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Odes of Pindar

With several other Pieces in Prose and Verse, Translated from the Greek. To which is added a dissertation on the Olympick games. By Gilbert West
  

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273

The Story of Phineus.

The following Day Bithynia's Coast they reach,
And fix their Hausers to the shelt'ring Beach.
There on the Margin of the beating Flood
The mournful Mansions of sad Phineus stood,
Agenor's Son; whom Heav'n ordain'd to bear
The grievous Burden of unequall'd Care.
For taught by wise Apollo to descry
Th'unborn Events of dark Futurity,
Vain of his Science the presumptuous Seer
Deign'd not Jove's awfull Secrets to revere;
But wantonly divulg'd to frail Mankind
The sacred Purpose of th'omniscient Mind.
Hence Jove indignant gave him length of Days,
But quench'd in endless Shade his visual Rays.
Nor would the vengefull God permit him taste
The chearful Blessings of the genial Feast;
Tho' the large Tribute of the Nations round
Their Prophet's Board with Wealth and Plenty crown'd.
For, lo! descending sudden from the Sky,
Round the pil'd Banquet shrieking Harpies fly,
Who with rapacious Claws incessant tear
Forth from his famish'd Lips th'untasted Fare.

274

Yet would some slender Pittance oft remain,
What might suffice to keep up Life and Pain.
But then such Odours the foul Scraps exhal'd,
That with the Stench the loathing Stomach fail'd.
Aloof the hungry Guests and wondring stood
While their sick Hearts abhorr'd the putrid Food.
But now the princely Crew approaching near,
The welcome Sound invades the Prophet's Ear.
Taught by th'inspiring God that now was come
The long-wish'd Period of Heav'n's vengefull Doom,
That by these Heroe's destin'd Aid restor'd,
Peace shou'd thenceforward bless his feastfull Board.
Then heaves he from the Couch his haggard Head,
Like some pale, lifeless, visionary Shade,
And leaning on his Staff with fault'ring Steps,
Along the Walls his Way exploring creeps.
Diseas'd, enfeebled, and by Age unbrac'd,
Trembled his tott'ring Limbs as forth he pass'd.
Shrunk was his Form, adust with Want and Care,
And bursting thro' his Hide the pointed Bones appear.
But faint and breathless as he reach'd the Gate,
Down on the Threshold over-toil'd he sate.
In dizzy Fumes involv'd his Brain runs round,
And swims beneath his Feet the solid Ground.
No more their Functions the frail Senses keep,
And speechless sinks the Seer in death-like Sleep.

275

This saw the Chiefs amaz'd, and gather'd round;
When from his labouring Lungs a hollow Sound,
With Breath and Utt'rance scarce recover'd broke,
And thus th'enlighten'd Seer prophetick spoke:
“Princes of Greece, attend; if ye be they
Whom o'er the Main Thessalia's Pines convey,
And Jason leads to Colchos' magick Land,
Such is your cruel Tyrant's stern Command.
Yes, ye be they; for yet my mental Eye
Undim'd past, present, future, can descry.
Thanks to thy Son, Latona, who bestows
This Grace, this only Solace of my Woes.
By Jove, to whom the Suppliant's Cause belongs,
Who hates the Merc'less, who avenges Wrongs,
By Phœbus, by Saturnia Wife of Jove,
By all the bless'd immortal Pow'rs above,
Who lead you o'er the Main with watchfull Care,
O help! O save from Famine and Despair
A Wretch ill-fated, to Affliction born,
Nor leave me here unpitied, and forlorn.
For not these Orbs alone depriv'd of Sight
Vindictive Heav'n hath veil'd in dolefull Night;
But to extreme old Age his cruel Law
Dooms me th'unwasting Thread of Life to draw.
Nor end my Sorrows here; a heavy Chain
Of Woes succeeds, and Pain still link'd to Pain.

276

From secret Haunts aërial, unexplor'd,
Flights of devouring Harpies vex my Board.
Swift, instantaneous, sudden they descend
And from my Mouth the tastefull Morsel rend.
Mean while my troubled Soul with Woes oppress'd,
No Means of Aid, no Comfort can suggest.
For when the Feast I purpose to prepare,
They see that Purpose, and prevent my Care.
But cloy'd and glutted with the luscious Spoil
With noisome Ordure parting they defile
Whate'er remains, if ought perchance remain,
That none approaching may the Stench sustain,
Tho' his strong Heart were wrapt in plated Mail,
The filthy Fragments such dire Steams exhale:
Yet me fell Hunger's all subduing Pain
Compells reluctant, loathing to remain;
Compells the deadly Odours to endure
And gorge the craving Maw with Food impure.
From these Invaders (so hath Fate decreed)
By Boreas' Offspring shall my Board be freed.
Nor on a Stranger to your House and Blood,
O Sons of Boreas, is your Aid bestow'd.
Phineus behold, Agenor's hapless Son,
Once for prophetick Skill and Riches known;
Who, while I sway'd the Thracian Sceptre, led
Your dower'd Sister to my spousal Bed.

277

Here Phineus ceas'd, each pitying Hero groans,
But chief, O Boreas, thy relenting Sons
Feel kind Compassion swelling in their Souls,
While down their Cheeks the gen'rous Torrent rolls.
Then Zetes near approaching, closely press'd
His Hand, and thus the lab'ring Seer address'd:
O most disastrous of all human Kind,
Whence sprung the Evils that o'erwhelm thy Mind?
Hast thou, intrusted with the Book of Fate,
By Folly merited celestial Hate?
Hence falls this Indignation on thy Head?
Fain wou'd the Sons of Boreas grant thee Aid;
Fain wou'd they execute what Heav'n ordains,
But awfull Dread their willing Hands restrains.
To frighted Mortals well thy Suff'rings prove,
How fierce the Vengeance of the Gods above.
Then swear, or never shall this righteous Sword,
Tho' drawn for thy Deliv'rance, aid afford,
Swear, that th'Assistance which our Arms shall lend,
Shall no immortal angry God offend.
He spoke; when straight tow'rd Heav'n disclosing wide
His sightless Balls, the Senior thus reply'd:
My Son, th'Injustice of thy Tongue restrain,
Nor let such Thoughts thy pious Soul profane:
By Phœbus, heav'nly Augur, who inspires
My conscious Bosom with prophetick Fires;

278

By this my wretched Lot of Woe and Care
These Eyes involv'd in dark'ning Clouds, I swear,
By the fell Dæmons of the Realms below,
Whom ever unpropitious may I know,
From their Resentments not in Death secure,
If falsly their dread Godheads I adjure:
That your assisting Hands shall never move
Wrath or Displeasure in the Pow'rs above.
Then acquiescing in the solemn Pray'r,
To aid the Prophet Boreas' Sons prepare.
The ready Youth a Banquet spread, the last
That those fell Harpies were decreed to taste:
Nigh stand the Brothers, ardent to oppose
With glitt'ring Faulchions their invading Foes.
But scarce the first sweet Morsel Phineus took,
When from the Clouds with swift Prevention broke,
Swift as the Light'ning's Glance, or stormy Blast
Whose rapid Fury lays the Forest waste,
Shrill clam'ring for their Prey the Birds obscene,
The watchfull Heroes shouting rush'd between;
But they with speediest Rage the Cates devour'd,
And round intolerable Odours pour'd;
Then o'er th'Ægean far away they flew;
Upspringing swift with threat'ning Blades pursue
The feather'd Chiefs. That Day Saturnius steel'd
Their vig'rous Nerves with Force untaught to yield;

279

And did not Jove their wearying Strength sustain,
Their flitting Pinions had they spread in vain:
For when to Phineus furious they repair,
Or quitting Phineus seek the Fields of Air,
The light-wing'd Monsters, fleeter than the Wind,
Leave the impetuous Zephyrs far behind.
As when the Hound experienc'd in the Chace,
Thro' some wide Forest o'er the scented Grass
A bounding Hind or horned Goat pursues,
And near his panting Prey and nearer views;
Eager he stretches the short Space to gain,
And snapping, grinds his gnashing Fangs in vain:
So ever-near th'insulting Chiefs pursu'd;
The Harpies so their catching Hands elude.
But now far off in the Sicilian Main,
By the wing'd Brothers, Sons of Boreas, slain,
The Race of Harpies (tho' Heav'n disallow'd)
Had stain'd the Plotian Isles with sacred Blood,
Their sore Distress had Iris not survey'd,
And darting from the Skies the Heroes staid.
O Sons of Boreas, the dread Laws above
Permit ye not to wound the Dogs of Jove.
And, lo! my Oath I pledge, that never more
Shall those fell Dogs approach Bithynia's Shore.
This said, adjuring the tremendous Floods,
Most fear'd, most honour'd by th'immmortal Gods:

280

By the slow-dripping Urn of Styx she swore,
The Prophet's peacefull Mansions evermore
From those rapacious Spoilers shou'd be free;
Such was the fatal Sisters' fixt Decree.
The Goddess sware, the Brothers straight obey,
And back to Argo wing their airy Way.
The Strophades from thence derive their Name,
The Plotian Islands styl'd by antient Fame.
Then part the Harpies and Thaumantian Maid,
In thousand various mingling Dyes array'd.
These to the Grots retir'd and dark Retreat
Of Dicte's Caverns in Minoian Crete.
While the gay Goddess of the watry Bow
Gain'd in a Moment high Olympus' Brow.
Mean while the Princes in the cleansing Wave
With purifying Rites the Senior lave.
Next from the Spoil, which on Bybrycia's Shore
From vanquish'd Amycus stern Pollux tore,
A Victim they select with pious Care;
And soothe the Gods with Sacrifice and Pray'r.
Then in the Palace each heroick Guest
Partakes the Pleasures of the sumptuous Feast.

281

With them sate Phineus, and refresh'd his Soul
With sav'ry Viands and the chearing Bowl.
Unsatiated he feeds, and bathes in Streams
Of Extasy beyond the Bliss of Dreams.