The Epigoniad A Poem. In Nine Books. By William Wilkie, The Second Edition, Carefully Corrected and Improved. To which is Added, A Dream. In the Manner of Spenser. [by William Winkie] |
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| I. |
| II. |
| III. |
| IV. | BOOK IV. |
| V. |
| VI. |
| VII. |
| VIII. |
| IX. |
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 | The Epigoniad |  |
59
BOOK IV.
And now the princes of the Theban state
In council sat, assembled in the gate,
Where rows of marble pillars bound the space,
To judgment sacred in the days of peace.
And Creon thus, with public cares oppress'd
And private griefs, the senators address'd.
In council sat, assembled in the gate,
Where rows of marble pillars bound the space,
To judgment sacred in the days of peace.
And Creon thus, with public cares oppress'd
And private griefs, the senators address'd.
Princes of Thebes, and valiant aids from far,
Our firm associates in the works of war,
Heroes, attend! I shall not now propose
To supplicate, for peace, our haughty foes;
No peace can grow, no friendship e'er be found,
When mutual hate has torn so wide a wound.
Yet for a truce of seven days space I plead,
And fun'ral obsequies to grace the dead.
Nor were it just, that they, who greatly fall
From rage of foes to guard their native wall,
Should want the honors which their merits claim,
Sepulchral rites deny'd and fun'ral flame.
Our firm associates in the works of war,
Heroes, attend! I shall not now propose
To supplicate, for peace, our haughty foes;
No peace can grow, no friendship e'er be found,
When mutual hate has torn so wide a wound.
Yet for a truce of seven days space I plead,
And fun'ral obsequies to grace the dead.
Nor were it just, that they, who greatly fall
From rage of foes to guard their native wall,
Should want the honors which their merits claim,
Sepulchral rites deny'd and fun'ral flame.
60
Thus as he spoke, parental grief supprest
His voice, and swell'd within his lab'ring breast.
Silent amidst th' assembled peers he stands,
And wipes his falling tears with trembling hands;
For great Leophron, once his country's boast,
The glory and the bulwark of her host,
Pierc'd by a foe and lifeless on the plain,
Lay drench'd in gore and mix'd with vulgar slain:
Silent he stood; the Theban lords around
His grief partake, in streams of sorrow drown'd;
Till sage Palantes rose, and to the rest,
The Monarch seconding, his words addrest.
His voice, and swell'd within his lab'ring breast.
Silent amidst th' assembled peers he stands,
And wipes his falling tears with trembling hands;
For great Leophron, once his country's boast,
The glory and the bulwark of her host,
Pierc'd by a foe and lifeless on the plain,
Lay drench'd in gore and mix'd with vulgar slain:
Silent he stood; the Theban lords around
His grief partake, in streams of sorrow drown'd;
Till sage Palantes rose, and to the rest,
The Monarch seconding, his words addrest.
Princes! renown'd for wisdom and for might,
Rever'd in council and approv'd in fight;
What Creon moves the laws themselves require,
With obsequies to grace and fun'ral fire
Each warrior, who in battle bravely falls
From rage of foes to guard his native walls.
If all approve, and none will sure withstand
What Creon counsels and the laws command,
Charg'd with the truce, Apollo's priest shall go
To offer and conclude it with the foe.
His silver hairs a mild respect may claim,
And great Apollo's ever honor'd name.
Rever'd in council and approv'd in fight;
What Creon moves the laws themselves require,
With obsequies to grace and fun'ral fire
Each warrior, who in battle bravely falls
From rage of foes to guard his native walls.
If all approve, and none will sure withstand
What Creon counsels and the laws command,
Charg'd with the truce, Apollo's priest shall go
To offer and conclude it with the foe.
His silver hairs a mild respect may claim,
And great Apollo's ever honor'd name.
The rest assent. The venerable man,
Slow from his seat arising, thus began:
Princes of Thebes! and thou, whose sov'reign hand
Sways the dread sceptre of supreme command;
Tho' well I might this perilous task refuse,
And plead my feeble age a just excuse;
Yet nothing shall restrain me, for I go;
Pleas'd with the pious charge, to meet the foe.
Willing I go; our bleeding warriors claim
Sepulchral honors and the fun'ral flame.
If all approve, let Clytophon attend;
With just success our labors thus shall end:
For sure no Theban boasts an equal skill,
With pleasing words, to bend the fixed will.
Slow from his seat arising, thus began:
Princes of Thebes! and thou, whose sov'reign hand
Sways the dread sceptre of supreme command;
61
And plead my feeble age a just excuse;
Yet nothing shall restrain me, for I go;
Pleas'd with the pious charge, to meet the foe.
Willing I go; our bleeding warriors claim
Sepulchral honors and the fun'ral flame.
If all approve, let Clytophon attend;
With just success our labors thus shall end:
For sure no Theban boasts an equal skill,
With pleasing words, to bend the fixed will.
Sooth'd with the friendly praise, the hero said,
No self-regard shall hold me or dissuade;
The pious charge my inmost thoughts approve.
He said; and slow thro' yielding crowds they move;
While Thebes on ev'ry side assembled stands,
And supplicates the gods with lifted hands:
O grant that wrathful enemies may spare
These rev'rend heads; nor wrong the silver hair!
No self-regard shall hold me or dissuade;
The pious charge my inmost thoughts approve.
He said; and slow thro' yielding crowds they move;
While Thebes on ev'ry side assembled stands,
And supplicates the gods with lifted hands:
O grant that wrathful enemies may spare
These rev'rend heads; nor wrong the silver hair!
And now they pass'd the lofty gates, and came
Where slow Ismenus winds his gentle stream;
Amphion's grove they pass'd, whose umbrage wide
His rural tomb defends on ev'ry side.
The scene of fight they reach'd, and spacious fields
With mangled slaughter heap'd, and spears and shields.
Under their feet the hollow bucklers sound;
And splinter'd faulcions glitter on the ground.
And now the stations of the camp appear,
Far as a shaft can wound the flying deer.
Thither, amid the wrecks of war, they go
With silent steps; and scape the watchful foe.
Now full in view before the guards they stand;
The priest displays his ensigns in his hand,
The laurel wreath, the gold bespangled rod
With stars adorn'd, the symbols of the god.
Where slow Ismenus winds his gentle stream;
Amphion's grove they pass'd, whose umbrage wide
His rural tomb defends on ev'ry side.
The scene of fight they reach'd, and spacious fields
With mangled slaughter heap'd, and spears and shields.
Under their feet the hollow bucklers sound;
And splinter'd faulcions glitter on the ground.
And now the stations of the camp appear,
Far as a shaft can wound the flying deer.
62
With silent steps; and scape the watchful foe.
Now full in view before the guards they stand;
The priest displays his ensigns in his hand,
The laurel wreath, the gold bespangled rod
With stars adorn'd, the symbols of the god.
He thus began: ye Argive warriors, hear!
A peaceful message to your tents we bear:
A truce is ask'd, till the revolving sun,
Seven times from east to west his journey run,
Again ascends; and, from the ocean's streams,
Crowns the green mountains with his golden beams:
That mutually secure, with pious care,
Both hosts funereal honors may prepare
For ev'ry hero, whom the rage of fight
Has swept to darkness and the shores of night.
A peaceful message to your tents we bear:
A truce is ask'd, till the revolving sun,
Seven times from east to west his journey run,
Again ascends; and, from the ocean's streams,
Crowns the green mountains with his golden beams:
That mutually secure, with pious care,
Both hosts funereal honors may prepare
For ev'ry hero, whom the rage of fight
Has swept to darkness and the shores of night.
Thus as he spoke, the list'ning warriors heard
With approbation and the priest rever'd.
The chief of Salamis, their leader, went
Himself to guide them to the royal tent;
Which shone conspicuous; thro' the shades of night
Its spacious portal pour'd a stream of light.
Thither conducted by the chief, they found
The king of men with all his peers around.
On thrones with purple spread each royal guest
In order sat, and shar'd the genial feast.
Silent they enter'd. From his chair of state,
Full in the midst opposed to the gate,
The monarch saw; and rising thus exprest
The gen'rous dictates of his royal breast.
With approbation and the priest rever'd.
The chief of Salamis, their leader, went
Himself to guide them to the royal tent;
Which shone conspicuous; thro' the shades of night
Its spacious portal pour'd a stream of light.
Thither conducted by the chief, they found
The king of men with all his peers around.
On thrones with purple spread each royal guest
In order sat, and shar'd the genial feast.
Silent they enter'd. From his chair of state,
Full in the midst opposed to the gate,
63
The gen'rous dictates of his royal breast.
My guests, approach! no enemy is near;
This roof protects you, straight forget your fear.
Ev'n tho' from yon devoted walls you come,
For vengeance mark'd by fate's eternal doom;
Here in my tent, with safety, you shall rest,
And with the princes, share the genial feast.
You freely then your message may propose,
When round the board the chearing vintage flows,
Which sooths impatience, and the open'd ear,
With favour and attention, bends to hear.
This roof protects you, straight forget your fear.
Ev'n tho' from yon devoted walls you come,
For vengeance mark'd by fate's eternal doom;
Here in my tent, with safety, you shall rest,
And with the princes, share the genial feast.
You freely then your message may propose,
When round the board the chearing vintage flows,
Which sooths impatience, and the open'd ear,
With favour and attention, bends to hear.
The hero thus. Apollo's priest replies:
Humane thy manners, and thy words are wise;
With thee the noblest gifts the gods have plac'd,
And pow'r supreme with equal wisdom grac'd:
Tho' oft, by parts, for others they ordain,
The arts of sway, the privilege to reign;
In thee their partial favor has combin'd
The highest fortune with the greatest mind.
Humane thy manners, and thy words are wise;
With thee the noblest gifts the gods have plac'd,
And pow'r supreme with equal wisdom grac'd:
Tho' oft, by parts, for others they ordain,
The arts of sway, the privilege to reign;
In thee their partial favor has combin'd
The highest fortune with the greatest mind.
As thus the sage reply'd, the princely band
By turns presented each his friendly hand,
The sign of peace. For each a splendid throne,
Where fring'd with gold the purple cov'ring shone,
The ready waiters, by command, prepar'd;
There sat the envoys and the banquet shar'd.
On ev'ry side the sparkling vintage flows,
The momentary cure of human woes.
The rage of thirst and hunger thus suppress'd,
To Nestor turning Clytophon address'd.
By turns presented each his friendly hand,
The sign of peace. For each a splendid throne,
Where fring'd with gold the purple cov'ring shone,
The ready waiters, by command, prepar'd;
There sat the envoys and the banquet shar'd.
On ev'ry side the sparkling vintage flows,
The momentary cure of human woes.
64
To Nestor turning Clytophon address'd.
Illustrious chief! an honor now I'll claim,
Which not to publish, sure, would merit blame.
Your father's guest I was; by fortune led,
When from Trinacria's desart shores I fled
With ills beset: but, in his friendly land,
His gen'rous heart I prov'd and lib'ral hand.
A grateful mind excites me to reveal
His sov'reign bounty, and attempt a tale
Of dear remembrance. But the fond design,
Prudence dissenting, warns me to decline;
For when to public cares your thoughts you bend,
A private story mingled must offend.
Which not to publish, sure, would merit blame.
Your father's guest I was; by fortune led,
When from Trinacria's desart shores I fled
With ills beset: but, in his friendly land,
His gen'rous heart I prov'd and lib'ral hand.
A grateful mind excites me to reveal
His sov'reign bounty, and attempt a tale
Of dear remembrance. But the fond design,
Prudence dissenting, warns me to decline;
For when to public cares your thoughts you bend,
A private story mingled must offend.
The artful Theban thus. The chief reply'd,
Whose sov'reign mandates all the host obey'd:
My honor'd guest! proceed; nor aught conceal
Which gratitude enjoins you to reveal:
For gen'rous deeds, imprudently supprest,
Lie unapplauded in the grateful breast:
And now the feast, short interval of care,
To vocal symphony unbends the ear;
Or sweet discourse, which to the soul conveys
Sublimer joys than music's tuneful lays.
The monarch thus. The prudent sage suppress'd
His inward joy, and thus the peers address'd:
Each chief he strove to gain, but Nestor most,
Whose wisdom sway'd the councils of the host.
Whose sov'reign mandates all the host obey'd:
My honor'd guest! proceed; nor aught conceal
Which gratitude enjoins you to reveal:
For gen'rous deeds, imprudently supprest,
Lie unapplauded in the grateful breast:
And now the feast, short interval of care,
To vocal symphony unbends the ear;
Or sweet discourse, which to the soul conveys
Sublimer joys than music's tuneful lays.
The monarch thus. The prudent sage suppress'd
His inward joy, and thus the peers address'd:
Each chief he strove to gain, but Nestor most,
Whose wisdom sway'd the councils of the host.
65
Confed'rate kings! and thou whose sov'reign hand
Sways the dread sceptre of supreme command,
Attend and hearken! since you seek to know
The sad beginnings of a life of woe.
In Rhodes my father once dominion claim'd,
Orsilochus, for deeds of valor fam'd.
The Sporades his sov'reign sceptre own'd,
And Carpathus with waving forests crown'd.
His youngest hope I was, and scarce had seen
The tenth returning summer clothe the green,
When pirates snatch'd me from my native land:
While with my infant equals on the strand
I play'd, of harm secure, and from the deep
With pleasure saw approach the fatal ship;
Pleas'd with the whiteness of the sails we stood,
And the red streamers shining on the flood;
And fearless saw the hostile galley land,
Where from the hills a current seeks the strand.
They climb'd the rocky beach, and far around,
Intent on spoil and rapine, view'd the ground;
If any herd were near or fleecy store,
Or lonely mansion on the winding shore.
My young companions straight their fear obey.
I, bold and unsuspecting, dar'd to stay.
Me straight they seiz'd; and doom'd to servile toil
A wretched captive in a foreign soil.
Struggling in vain, they bore me down the bay,
Where, anchor'd near the beach, their vessel lay;
And plac'd me on the deck. With bitter cries,
To speeding gales I saw the canvass rise;
The boundless ocean far before me spread;
And from my reach the shores at distance fled.
All day I wept; but when the setting light
Retir'd, and yielded to the shades of night,
Sleep stole upon my grief with soft surprize,
Which care ne'er banish'd long from infant eyes.
Sways the dread sceptre of supreme command,
Attend and hearken! since you seek to know
The sad beginnings of a life of woe.
In Rhodes my father once dominion claim'd,
Orsilochus, for deeds of valor fam'd.
The Sporades his sov'reign sceptre own'd,
And Carpathus with waving forests crown'd.
His youngest hope I was, and scarce had seen
The tenth returning summer clothe the green,
When pirates snatch'd me from my native land:
While with my infant equals on the strand
I play'd, of harm secure, and from the deep
With pleasure saw approach the fatal ship;
Pleas'd with the whiteness of the sails we stood,
And the red streamers shining on the flood;
And fearless saw the hostile galley land,
Where from the hills a current seeks the strand.
They climb'd the rocky beach, and far around,
Intent on spoil and rapine, view'd the ground;
If any herd were near or fleecy store,
Or lonely mansion on the winding shore.
My young companions straight their fear obey.
I, bold and unsuspecting, dar'd to stay.
Me straight they seiz'd; and doom'd to servile toil
A wretched captive in a foreign soil.
Struggling in vain, they bore me down the bay,
Where, anchor'd near the beach, their vessel lay;
66
To speeding gales I saw the canvass rise;
The boundless ocean far before me spread;
And from my reach the shores at distance fled.
All day I wept; but when the setting light
Retir'd, and yielded to the shades of night,
Sleep stole upon my grief with soft surprize,
Which care ne'er banish'd long from infant eyes.
Nine days we sail'd; the tenth returning ray
Show'd us Trinacria rising in our way,
Far in the west; where, with his ev'ning beams,
The sun descending gilds the ocean's streams.
Thither the sailors ply, and blindly run
On hidden dangers which they ought to shun;
For whom the gods distinguish by their hate,
They first confound and then resign to fate.
All day we sail'd; and with the ev'ning hour,
Which calls the shepherd to his rural bow'r,
Approach'd the shore. The forests on the land
We mark'd, and rivers op'ning from the strand.
Then gladness touch'd my heart; the first I knew
Since fate had mix'd me with that lawless crew:
With joy I saw the rising shores appear;
And hop'd to find some kind deliv'rer near;
Some gen'rous lord, to whom I might relate,
Low bending at his knees, my wretched fate.
Vain was the hope; the Cyclopes ne'er know
Compassion, not to melt at human woe.
Show'd us Trinacria rising in our way,
Far in the west; where, with his ev'ning beams,
The sun descending gilds the ocean's streams.
Thither the sailors ply, and blindly run
On hidden dangers which they ought to shun;
For whom the gods distinguish by their hate,
They first confound and then resign to fate.
All day we sail'd; and with the ev'ning hour,
Which calls the shepherd to his rural bow'r,
Approach'd the shore. The forests on the land
We mark'd, and rivers op'ning from the strand.
Then gladness touch'd my heart; the first I knew
Since fate had mix'd me with that lawless crew:
With joy I saw the rising shores appear;
And hop'd to find some kind deliv'rer near;
Some gen'rous lord, to whom I might relate,
Low bending at his knees, my wretched fate.
Vain was the hope; the Cyclopes ne'er know
Compassion, not to melt at human woe.
67
Near on the left, and where the parted tides
A promontory's rocky height divides,
A bay they found; and on the fatal strand
Descending, fix'd their vessel to the land.
The valleys straight and mountains they explore,
And the long windings of the desart shore;
And find, of sheep and goats, a mingled flock,
Under the shelter of a cavern'd rock.
The largest and the best the pirate band
Seiz'd, and prepar'd a banquet on the strand.
With joy they feasted; while the goblet, crown'd
With Mithymnean vintage, flow'd around.
Of harm secure they sat; and void of fear
To mirth resign'd; nor knew destruction near.
A promontory's rocky height divides,
A bay they found; and on the fatal strand
Descending, fix'd their vessel to the land.
The valleys straight and mountains they explore,
And the long windings of the desart shore;
And find, of sheep and goats, a mingled flock,
Under the shelter of a cavern'd rock.
The largest and the best the pirate band
Seiz'd, and prepar'd a banquet on the strand.
With joy they feasted; while the goblet, crown'd
With Mithymnean vintage, flow'd around.
Of harm secure they sat; and void of fear
To mirth resign'd; nor knew destruction near.
Amid them there I meditating sat;
Some god inspir'd me, or the pow'r of fate,
To 'scape their hated hands: and soon I found
The wish'd occasion; when along the ground,
Each where he sat, the ruffians lay supine,
With sleep oppress'd and sense-subduing wine;
Softly I rose, and to a lofty grove,
Which shaded all the mountain tops above,
Ascending, in a rocky cavern lay,
Till darkness fled before the morning ray.
Then from above I saw the pirate band,
In parties, roaming o'er the desart strand;
The mountain goats they drove and fleecy store,
From all the pastures, crowded to the shore.
Me too by name they call'd; and oft, in vain,
Explor'd each grove and thicket on the plain;
While from above I saw, with careless eye,
Them searching round and list'ning for reply.
Some to the ship the bleating spoil convey'd;
While others to prepare a banquet stay'd,
And call'd their mates: to share the full repast
With mirth they came, nor knew it was their last.
Some god inspir'd me, or the pow'r of fate,
To 'scape their hated hands: and soon I found
The wish'd occasion; when along the ground,
Each where he sat, the ruffians lay supine,
With sleep oppress'd and sense-subduing wine;
Softly I rose, and to a lofty grove,
Which shaded all the mountain tops above,
Ascending, in a rocky cavern lay,
Till darkness fled before the morning ray.
Then from above I saw the pirate band,
In parties, roaming o'er the desart strand;
The mountain goats they drove and fleecy store,
From all the pastures, crowded to the shore.
68
Explor'd each grove and thicket on the plain;
While from above I saw, with careless eye,
Them searching round and list'ning for reply.
Some to the ship the bleating spoil convey'd;
While others to prepare a banquet stay'd,
And call'd their mates: to share the full repast
With mirth they came, nor knew it was their last.
Then from the rocky summit where I lay,
A flock appear'd descending to the bay;
Which thro' a narrow valley rush'd along,
Oxen and sheep, an undistinguish'd throng.
With these the sloping hills were cover'd o'er,
And the long windings of the sandy shore.
Behind a Cyclops came; and, by degrees,
Rose to my view, and tower'd above the trees.
His giant stature, like a lofty rock,
Appear'd: and in his hand a knotted oak
Of tallest growth; around his shoulder flung
His bag enormous, by a cable hung.
Panting I lay; as when a lurking deer,
From some close thicket, sees the hunter near.
By dread subdu'd, confounded and amaz'd,
My fixed eye-balls darken'd as I gaz'd.
Soon from above my wretched mates he knew,
As on the level shore, in open view,
They sat secure, with flow'ry garlands crown'd;
The signs of spoil and ravage scatter'd round.
With indignation, for his wasted flock,
Inflam'd, he thus like distant thunder spoke.
Whoe'er these are, who from their native soil
To foreign climates thus, in quest of spoil,
Licentious roam; they soon shall feel my hand,
And rue that e'er they touch'd Trinacria's strand.
As mutt'ring thus, along the craggy road
He came, the mountain trembled as he trode.
The wretches saw with horror and affright;
Each limb enfeebled lost the pow'r of flight.
Their cries in vain the monster mov'd to spare;
His club he rear'd and swung it thrice in air,
Then hurl'd it cross the bay: it swiftly drove
O'er the smooth deep, and raz'd the beach above.
Threat'ning it rush'd along; but, bending low,
Each, where he sat, escap'd the weighty blow.
Beyond them far it pitch'd upon the land,
Tore the green sward, and heav'd a mount of sand.
Now starting from the ground they strove to fly,
Press'd by despair and strong necessity;
The woody summits of the cliffs to gain,
With fault'ring haste they fled across the plain.
But the impending mountains barr'd their flight,
High and projecting from their airy height;
Back from the slipp'ry arch, in heaps, they fall;
And with imploring cries for mercy call,
In vain. The monster with gigantic strides,
At twenty steps, the spacious bay divides;
Around his knees the whit'ning billows roar,
And his rude voice like thunder shakes the shore.
A flock appear'd descending to the bay;
Which thro' a narrow valley rush'd along,
Oxen and sheep, an undistinguish'd throng.
With these the sloping hills were cover'd o'er,
And the long windings of the sandy shore.
Behind a Cyclops came; and, by degrees,
Rose to my view, and tower'd above the trees.
His giant stature, like a lofty rock,
Appear'd: and in his hand a knotted oak
Of tallest growth; around his shoulder flung
His bag enormous, by a cable hung.
Panting I lay; as when a lurking deer,
From some close thicket, sees the hunter near.
By dread subdu'd, confounded and amaz'd,
My fixed eye-balls darken'd as I gaz'd.
Soon from above my wretched mates he knew,
As on the level shore, in open view,
They sat secure, with flow'ry garlands crown'd;
The signs of spoil and ravage scatter'd round.
69
Inflam'd, he thus like distant thunder spoke.
Whoe'er these are, who from their native soil
To foreign climates thus, in quest of spoil,
Licentious roam; they soon shall feel my hand,
And rue that e'er they touch'd Trinacria's strand.
As mutt'ring thus, along the craggy road
He came, the mountain trembled as he trode.
The wretches saw with horror and affright;
Each limb enfeebled lost the pow'r of flight.
Their cries in vain the monster mov'd to spare;
His club he rear'd and swung it thrice in air,
Then hurl'd it cross the bay: it swiftly drove
O'er the smooth deep, and raz'd the beach above.
Threat'ning it rush'd along; but, bending low,
Each, where he sat, escap'd the weighty blow.
Beyond them far it pitch'd upon the land,
Tore the green sward, and heav'd a mount of sand.
Now starting from the ground they strove to fly,
Press'd by despair and strong necessity;
The woody summits of the cliffs to gain,
With fault'ring haste they fled across the plain.
But the impending mountains barr'd their flight,
High and projecting from their airy height;
Back from the slipp'ry arch, in heaps, they fall;
And with imploring cries for mercy call,
In vain. The monster with gigantic strides,
At twenty steps, the spacious bay divides;
Around his knees the whit'ning billows roar,
And his rude voice like thunder shakes the shore.
70
There thirty youths he slew; against the stones
And ragged cliffs, he dash'd their crackling bones.
Twenty his feet and heavy hands pursue,
As to the ocean in despair they flew;
Striving the summit of the beach to gain,
With headlong course to rush into the main:
For there they hop'd a milder fate to have,
And less abhor'd, beneath the whelming wave.
These too he reach'd; and, with his weighty hand,
Their flight oppress'd, and mix'd them with the sand.
Two yet surviv'd; who supplicating strove,
With humble suit, his barb'rous soul to move.
With trembling knees the sandy beach they press'd;
And, as he came, the monster thus address'd.
And ragged cliffs, he dash'd their crackling bones.
Twenty his feet and heavy hands pursue,
As to the ocean in despair they flew;
Striving the summit of the beach to gain,
With headlong course to rush into the main:
For there they hop'd a milder fate to have,
And less abhor'd, beneath the whelming wave.
These too he reach'd; and, with his weighty hand,
Their flight oppress'd, and mix'd them with the sand.
Two yet surviv'd; who supplicating strove,
With humble suit, his barb'rous soul to move.
With trembling knees the sandy beach they press'd;
And, as he came, the monster thus address'd.
O thou! with whom no mortal can compare
For strength resistless, pity now and spare.
O let the blood, already shed, atone
For our provoking guilt, and trespass done!
O spare and pity! sure, the gods above,
Who sit around the starry throne of Jove,
Are won by pray'r; and he whose matchless might
The solid earth sustains and starry height,
Oft spares the guilty; for his soul approves
Compassion, and the works of mercy loves.
Let sov'reign pity touch thy mighty breast;
And him revere, the greatest and the best;
Who pardons oft, but measures grief and pain
To such as hear the wretched plead in vain.
For strength resistless, pity now and spare.
O let the blood, already shed, atone
For our provoking guilt, and trespass done!
O spare and pity! sure, the gods above,
Who sit around the starry throne of Jove,
Are won by pray'r; and he whose matchless might
The solid earth sustains and starry height,
Oft spares the guilty; for his soul approves
Compassion, and the works of mercy loves.
Let sov'reign pity touch thy mighty breast;
And him revere, the greatest and the best;
Who pardons oft, but measures grief and pain
To such as hear the wretched plead in vain.
71
As thus to touch his iron heart they try'd,
The Cyclops smiling, scornful thus reply'd:
The praise of mercy well your words proclaim;
And vengeance mark, tho' merited, with blame.
Well have you spoken; therefore, from my hand,
More favor hope than any of your band;
They, on the desart shore expos'd and bare,
The wolves shall feast and ev'ry bird of air;
But ye, prefer'd above the rest, shall have
This body for your monument and grave.
The Cyclops smiling, scornful thus reply'd:
The praise of mercy well your words proclaim;
And vengeance mark, tho' merited, with blame.
Well have you spoken; therefore, from my hand,
More favor hope than any of your band;
They, on the desart shore expos'd and bare,
The wolves shall feast and ev'ry bird of air;
But ye, prefer'd above the rest, shall have
This body for your monument and grave.
He said, and seizing lifts them both on high,
With hands and feet extended in the sky:
Then dash'd them thrice against the rocky shore;
Gnaw'd their warm flesh, and drank their streaming gore.
Oft have I seen the havoc of the plain,
The rage of tempests and the stormy main;
But fate, in such a form, ne'er met my eyes,
And, while I speak, afresh its horrors rise
To chill my veins: nor can the vary'd state
Of sprightly youth, and middle age sedate,
Or life's last stage with all its griefs opprest,
Banish the dire impression from my breast.
For still I see the monster, as he stood,
His hairy visage dy'd in human blood:
As the grim lion leaves the wasted plains,
Red from the ravage of the flocks and swains.
With hands and feet extended in the sky:
Then dash'd them thrice against the rocky shore;
Gnaw'd their warm flesh, and drank their streaming gore.
Oft have I seen the havoc of the plain,
The rage of tempests and the stormy main;
But fate, in such a form, ne'er met my eyes,
And, while I speak, afresh its horrors rise
To chill my veins: nor can the vary'd state
Of sprightly youth, and middle age sedate,
Or life's last stage with all its griefs opprest,
Banish the dire impression from my breast.
For still I see the monster, as he stood,
His hairy visage dy'd in human blood:
As the grim lion leaves the wasted plains,
Red from the ravage of the flocks and swains.
72
With vengeance pleas'd he view'd the shores around;
And, riding near the beach, our vessel found:
Her by the mast he seiz'd; and to the land,
With all her anchors, dragg'd along the strand.
Exploring, next the solid deck he tore,
And found, conceal'd below, his fleecy store.
With scornful smiles he saw the theft bewray'd;
And sidelong on the beach the galley laid;
And call'd his flock: to open light they strain,
Through the wide beach, and crowd upon the plain:
Still, as they pass'd, his weighty hands he laid
On their soft backs, and, stroaking gently, said:
Go now, my flock! enjoy the verdant hills,
The rivers cool, the sweet refreshing rills,
The meads and shady forests, safe from harm;
Your foes lie crush'd beneath your master's arm.
The giant thus; and next the hold explor'd:
Four jars he found with Lesbian vintage stor'd.
These first he drain'd; then to his lips apply'd
His flute, which like a quiver by his side,
Of size enormous, hung. Its hollow sound
The woods repeated and the caves around.
Its music such, as when a stormy gale
Roars thro' a hollow cliff with hideous peal,
Resounding deep, along the level shore:
He play'd, and drove his past'ring flock before.
And, riding near the beach, our vessel found:
Her by the mast he seiz'd; and to the land,
With all her anchors, dragg'd along the strand.
Exploring, next the solid deck he tore,
And found, conceal'd below, his fleecy store.
With scornful smiles he saw the theft bewray'd;
And sidelong on the beach the galley laid;
And call'd his flock: to open light they strain,
Through the wide beach, and crowd upon the plain:
Still, as they pass'd, his weighty hands he laid
On their soft backs, and, stroaking gently, said:
Go now, my flock! enjoy the verdant hills,
The rivers cool, the sweet refreshing rills,
The meads and shady forests, safe from harm;
Your foes lie crush'd beneath your master's arm.
The giant thus; and next the hold explor'd:
Four jars he found with Lesbian vintage stor'd.
These first he drain'd; then to his lips apply'd
His flute, which like a quiver by his side,
Of size enormous, hung. Its hollow sound
The woods repeated and the caves around.
Its music such, as when a stormy gale
Roars thro' a hollow cliff with hideous peal,
Resounding deep, along the level shore:
He play'd, and drove his past'ring flock before.
Horror and grief at once my heart assail'd;
Presages sad o'er ev'ry hope prevail'd.
My distant country rush'd upon my mind;
My friends, my weeping parents, left behind.
Now lost to hope, and furious from despair,
With both my hands I rent my rooted hair;
And, in an agony of sorrow, prest
With strokes repeated oft, my heaving breast.
All day I mourn'd; but when the setting ray
Retir'd, and ev'ning shades expel'd the day;
Encourag'd by the night, I sought the plain;
And, wand'ring anxious 'midst the mangled slain,
Oft call'd, to know if any of the band
Did yet survive, escap'd the monster's hand:
But none reply'd. Along the desert shore
All night I wander'd, 'midst the sullen roar
Of bursting billows; till the morning ray
Appear'd to light my solitary way.
'Twas then I reach'd a mountain's height, o'erspread
With thickets close, and dark impending shade,
Hung o'er a valley, where a river leads
His wand'ring current thro' a grove of reeds.
Presages sad o'er ev'ry hope prevail'd.
73
My friends, my weeping parents, left behind.
Now lost to hope, and furious from despair,
With both my hands I rent my rooted hair;
And, in an agony of sorrow, prest
With strokes repeated oft, my heaving breast.
All day I mourn'd; but when the setting ray
Retir'd, and ev'ning shades expel'd the day;
Encourag'd by the night, I sought the plain;
And, wand'ring anxious 'midst the mangled slain,
Oft call'd, to know if any of the band
Did yet survive, escap'd the monster's hand:
But none reply'd. Along the desert shore
All night I wander'd, 'midst the sullen roar
Of bursting billows; till the morning ray
Appear'd to light my solitary way.
'Twas then I reach'd a mountain's height, o'erspread
With thickets close, and dark impending shade,
Hung o'er a valley, where a river leads
His wand'ring current thro' a grove of reeds.
Thither I went; and, op'ning to the deep,
A cavern found beneath the rocky steep;
The haunt of mountain goats, when wint'ry rains
Have chac'd them from the hills and naked plains.
Gladly I enter'd; for, deceiv'd by fear,
I always thought the barb'rous Cyclops near;
His form descry'd in ev'ry tree behind,
And heard his voice approaching in the wind.
Of honey there a sweet repast I found,
In clusters hanging from the cliffs around.
My hunger soon appeas'd, the gentle pow'r
Of sleep subdu'd me till the ev'ning hour.
'Twas then I wak'd; and to the deep below,
Thro' thickets, creep'd with careful steps and slow;
And gaz'd around if any hut were there,
Or solitary wretch my grief to share:
But none appear'd. I climb'd a mountain's head,
Where, wide before me, lay the ocean spread;
And there no object met my wishing eyes,
But billows bounded by the setting skies.
Yet still I gaz'd, till night's prevailing sway
Extinguish'd, in the west, the ev'ning ray.
Hopeless and sad, descending from my stand,
I wander'd on the solitary strand,
Thro' the thick gloom; and heard the sullen roar
Of billows bursting on the desert shore.
A cavern found beneath the rocky steep;
The haunt of mountain goats, when wint'ry rains
Have chac'd them from the hills and naked plains.
Gladly I enter'd; for, deceiv'd by fear,
I always thought the barb'rous Cyclops near;
His form descry'd in ev'ry tree behind,
And heard his voice approaching in the wind.
74
In clusters hanging from the cliffs around.
My hunger soon appeas'd, the gentle pow'r
Of sleep subdu'd me till the ev'ning hour.
'Twas then I wak'd; and to the deep below,
Thro' thickets, creep'd with careful steps and slow;
And gaz'd around if any hut were there,
Or solitary wretch my grief to share:
But none appear'd. I climb'd a mountain's head,
Where, wide before me, lay the ocean spread;
And there no object met my wishing eyes,
But billows bounded by the setting skies.
Yet still I gaz'd, till night's prevailing sway
Extinguish'd, in the west, the ev'ning ray.
Hopeless and sad, descending from my stand,
I wander'd on the solitary strand,
Thro' the thick gloom; and heard the sullen roar
Of billows bursting on the desert shore.
Thus ten long years I liv'd, conceal'd by day,
Under a rock on wither'd leaves I lay;
At dawn and twilight on the mountains stood,
Exploring with my eyes the pathless flood;
Impatient till some friendly sail should come,
To waft me to my sire and native home:
But none appear'd. The pilots shun the shores
Where Ætna flames, and dire Charybdis roars;
And where the curs'd Cyclopean brothers reign,
The lonely tyrants of the desert plain.
Press'd by despair, at last I dar'd to brave,
Even in a skiff, the terrors of the wave;
Contemning all the perils in my way,
For worse it seem'd than death itself to stay.
Under a rock on wither'd leaves I lay;
At dawn and twilight on the mountains stood,
Exploring with my eyes the pathless flood;
Impatient till some friendly sail should come,
To waft me to my sire and native home:
But none appear'd. The pilots shun the shores
Where Ætna flames, and dire Charybdis roars;
And where the curs'd Cyclopean brothers reign,
The lonely tyrants of the desert plain.
75
Even in a skiff, the terrors of the wave;
Contemning all the perils in my way,
For worse it seem'd than death itself to stay.
Of oziers soft the bending hull I wove;
And ply'd the skins of mountain goats above.
A slender fir, ten cubit lengths, I found
Fall'n from a mould'ring bank, and stript it round.
This for the mast, with bulrush ropes I ty'd;
A pole to steer the rudder's use supply'd:
Four goat-skins join'd I fitted for the sail,
And spread it with a pole to catch the gale.
Each chink with gum, against the brine, I clos'd:
And the whole work beneath a shade dispos'd,
Where, from the hills descending to the main,
A winding current cuts the sandy plain.
Nuts and dry'd figs in baskets next I shar'd;
And liquid stores in bags of skin prepar'd:
And waited anxious till the southern gale,
From the dire coast, should bear my flying sail.
Nine days I stay'd; and still the northern breeze,
From great Hesperia, swept the whit'ning seas:
But on the tenth it chang'd; and, when the hour
Of twilight call'd the giant to his bow'r,
Down from my grotto to the shore I came,
And call'd the God who rules the ocean's stream;
Oblations vow'd, if, by his mighty hand
Conducted safe, I found my native land.
And, turning where conceal'd my vessel lay,
The rope I loos'd, and push'd her to the bay;
The sail unfurl'd, and, steering from the strand,
Behind me left with joy the hated land.
And ply'd the skins of mountain goats above.
A slender fir, ten cubit lengths, I found
Fall'n from a mould'ring bank, and stript it round.
This for the mast, with bulrush ropes I ty'd;
A pole to steer the rudder's use supply'd:
Four goat-skins join'd I fitted for the sail,
And spread it with a pole to catch the gale.
Each chink with gum, against the brine, I clos'd:
And the whole work beneath a shade dispos'd,
Where, from the hills descending to the main,
A winding current cuts the sandy plain.
Nuts and dry'd figs in baskets next I shar'd;
And liquid stores in bags of skin prepar'd:
And waited anxious till the southern gale,
From the dire coast, should bear my flying sail.
Nine days I stay'd; and still the northern breeze,
From great Hesperia, swept the whit'ning seas:
But on the tenth it chang'd; and, when the hour
Of twilight call'd the giant to his bow'r,
Down from my grotto to the shore I came,
And call'd the God who rules the ocean's stream;
Oblations vow'd, if, by his mighty hand
Conducted safe, I found my native land.
And, turning where conceal'd my vessel lay,
The rope I loos'd, and push'd her to the bay;
76
Behind me left with joy the hated land.
All night, by breezes sped, the prow divides
The deep, and o'er the billows lightly glides.
But when the dawn, prevailing o'er the night,
Had ting'd the glowing east with purple light,
The air was hush'd: deserted by the gale,
Loose to the mast descends the empty sail.
And full against my course a current came,
Which hurl'd me backwards, floating on its stream,
Towards the land. I saw the shores draw near;
And the long billows on the beach appear.
The cruel Cyclops spy'd me, as he drove
His past'ring flock along the hills above;
And winding thro' the groves his secret way,
Conceal'd behind a promontory lay;
Prepar'd to snatch me, when his arm could reach
My skiff, which drove ungovern'd to the beach.
I mark'd his purpose; furious from despair,
With both my hands I rent my rooted hair;
And on the poop with desp'rate purpose stood,
Prepar'd to plunge into the whelming flood.
But Neptune sav'd me in that perilous hour;
The headlong current felt his present pow'r:
Back from the shore it turn'd, at his command,
And bore me joyful from the fatal strand.
The Cyclops vex'd; as when some fowler spies,
Safe from his cover'd snares, the quarry rise:
His seat forsook, and, leaning o'er the steep,
Strove with soft words to lure me from the deep.
Stranger, approach! nor fly this friendly strand;
Share the free blessings of a happy land:
Here, from each cliff, a stream of honey flows;
And ev'ry hill with purple vintage glows.
Approach; your fear forget; my bounty share;
My kindness prove and hospitable care.
As to allure me thus the monster try'd,
His fraud I knew; and rashly thus reply'd:
Talk not of friendship; well I know the doom
Of such as to your dire dominions come.
These eyes beheld when, with a ruthless hand,
My wretched mates you murder'd on the strand.
Two su'd for mercy; but their limbs you tore
With brutal rage, and drank their streaming gore.
If heav'n's dread Sov'reign to my vengeful hand
His wasting flames would yield, and forked brand,
Scorch'd on the cliffs, your giant limbs should feed
The mountain wolves, and all the rav'nous breed.
The deep, and o'er the billows lightly glides.
But when the dawn, prevailing o'er the night,
Had ting'd the glowing east with purple light,
The air was hush'd: deserted by the gale,
Loose to the mast descends the empty sail.
And full against my course a current came,
Which hurl'd me backwards, floating on its stream,
Towards the land. I saw the shores draw near;
And the long billows on the beach appear.
The cruel Cyclops spy'd me, as he drove
His past'ring flock along the hills above;
And winding thro' the groves his secret way,
Conceal'd behind a promontory lay;
Prepar'd to snatch me, when his arm could reach
My skiff, which drove ungovern'd to the beach.
I mark'd his purpose; furious from despair,
With both my hands I rent my rooted hair;
And on the poop with desp'rate purpose stood,
Prepar'd to plunge into the whelming flood.
But Neptune sav'd me in that perilous hour;
The headlong current felt his present pow'r:
Back from the shore it turn'd, at his command,
And bore me joyful from the fatal strand.
The Cyclops vex'd; as when some fowler spies,
Safe from his cover'd snares, the quarry rise:
His seat forsook, and, leaning o'er the steep,
Strove with soft words to lure me from the deep.
77
Share the free blessings of a happy land:
Here, from each cliff, a stream of honey flows;
And ev'ry hill with purple vintage glows.
Approach; your fear forget; my bounty share;
My kindness prove and hospitable care.
As to allure me thus the monster try'd,
His fraud I knew; and rashly thus reply'd:
Talk not of friendship; well I know the doom
Of such as to your dire dominions come.
These eyes beheld when, with a ruthless hand,
My wretched mates you murder'd on the strand.
Two su'd for mercy; but their limbs you tore
With brutal rage, and drank their streaming gore.
If heav'n's dread Sov'reign to my vengeful hand
His wasting flames would yield, and forked brand,
Scorch'd on the cliffs, your giant limbs should feed
The mountain wolves, and all the rav'nous breed.
I said; and from the south a rising breeze
Brush'd the thick woods, and swept the curling seas.
Above the waves my vessel lightly flew;
The ocean widen'd, and the shores withdrew.
Inrag'd the Cyclops, rushing down the steep,
Eager to snatch me, plung'd into the deep:
My flight he follow'd with gigantic strides,
And stem'd with both his knees the rushing tides.
Soon had I perish'd, but escap'd again,
Protected by the God who rules the main.
He sent a spectre from his wat'ry caves;
Like mist it rose and hover'd o'er the waves.
A skiff like mine, by art divine, it grew;
And to the left across the ocean flew.
With course divided, where the pilot spies
Amid the deep two desert islands rise,
In shape like altars, so by sailors nam'd,
A mark for pilots, else for nothing fam'd;
The angry giant doubting stood, nor knew
Which to forsake, the shadow or the true:
For both seem'd equal. By the fates misled,
He chac'd the airy image as it fled;
Nor reach'd it: for it led him thro' the main,
As the bright rainbow mocks some simple swain;
Who still intent to catch it where it stands,
And grasp the shining meteor with his hands,
Along the dewy meadows holds his way;
But still before him flies the coloured ray.
The Cyclops so, along the wat'ry plain,
The shadowy phantom chac'd and chac'd in vain:
The billows bursted on his hairy sides,
And far behind him rush'd the parted tides.
Dissolv'd at last, its airy structure broke,
And vanish'd hov'ring like a cloud of smoke.
His error then, and my escape, he knew;
For, favour'd by the breeze, my vessel flew
Far to the deep: yet plunging in the waves,
Torn from its bed a pond'rous rock he heaves,
Craggy and black, with dangling sea-weed hung;
Push'd from his hand the weighty mass he flung,
To crush my flight: along th' ethereal plain
It roll'd, and thund'ring downwards shook the main.
Behind it fell; and farther from the shore,
Hurl'd on the mounting waves, my vessel bore
Towards the deep. The giant saw, with pain,
His fraud detected, force essay'd in vain.
He curs'd the partial pow'rs, and lash'd on high,
With both his hands, the ocean to the sky.
Brush'd the thick woods, and swept the curling seas.
Above the waves my vessel lightly flew;
The ocean widen'd, and the shores withdrew.
Inrag'd the Cyclops, rushing down the steep,
Eager to snatch me, plung'd into the deep:
My flight he follow'd with gigantic strides,
And stem'd with both his knees the rushing tides.
Soon had I perish'd, but escap'd again,
Protected by the God who rules the main.
78
Like mist it rose and hover'd o'er the waves.
A skiff like mine, by art divine, it grew;
And to the left across the ocean flew.
With course divided, where the pilot spies
Amid the deep two desert islands rise,
In shape like altars, so by sailors nam'd,
A mark for pilots, else for nothing fam'd;
The angry giant doubting stood, nor knew
Which to forsake, the shadow or the true:
For both seem'd equal. By the fates misled,
He chac'd the airy image as it fled;
Nor reach'd it: for it led him thro' the main,
As the bright rainbow mocks some simple swain;
Who still intent to catch it where it stands,
And grasp the shining meteor with his hands,
Along the dewy meadows holds his way;
But still before him flies the coloured ray.
The Cyclops so, along the wat'ry plain,
The shadowy phantom chac'd and chac'd in vain:
The billows bursted on his hairy sides,
And far behind him rush'd the parted tides.
Dissolv'd at last, its airy structure broke,
And vanish'd hov'ring like a cloud of smoke.
His error then, and my escape, he knew;
For, favour'd by the breeze, my vessel flew
Far to the deep: yet plunging in the waves,
Torn from its bed a pond'rous rock he heaves,
Craggy and black, with dangling sea-weed hung;
Push'd from his hand the weighty mass he flung,
79
It roll'd, and thund'ring downwards shook the main.
Behind it fell; and farther from the shore,
Hurl'd on the mounting waves, my vessel bore
Towards the deep. The giant saw, with pain,
His fraud detected, force essay'd in vain.
He curs'd the partial pow'rs, and lash'd on high,
With both his hands, the ocean to the sky.
Now safe beyond his reach, a prosp'rous gale
Blew fresh behind, and stretch'd my flying sail:
The shores retir'd; but, from the distant main,
I saw him tow'ring on the wat'ry plain,
Like a tall ship; and moving to the shore,
Sullen and sad, to tend his fleecy store.
Seven days I sail'd; the eighth returning light
The Pylian shores presented to my sight,
Far in the east; and where the sun displays,
Along the glitt'ring waves, his early rays.
Thither I steer'd, and, where a point divides
Extended in the deep, the parted tides,
A fane I mark'd; whose tow'ring summit, rear'd
High in the air, with gilded spires appear'd.
To Neptune sacred on the beach it stands,
Conspicuous from the sea and distant lands.
Assembled on the shore the people stood
On ev'ry side extended, like a wood:
And in the midst I saw a pillar rise,
Of sacred smoke, ascending to the skies.
'Twas there I reach'd the hospitable strand,
And, joyful, fix'd my vessel to the land.
Blew fresh behind, and stretch'd my flying sail:
The shores retir'd; but, from the distant main,
I saw him tow'ring on the wat'ry plain,
Like a tall ship; and moving to the shore,
Sullen and sad, to tend his fleecy store.
Seven days I sail'd; the eighth returning light
The Pylian shores presented to my sight,
Far in the east; and where the sun displays,
Along the glitt'ring waves, his early rays.
Thither I steer'd, and, where a point divides
Extended in the deep, the parted tides,
A fane I mark'd; whose tow'ring summit, rear'd
High in the air, with gilded spires appear'd.
To Neptune sacred on the beach it stands,
Conspicuous from the sea and distant lands.
Assembled on the shore the people stood
On ev'ry side extended, like a wood:
And in the midst I saw a pillar rise,
Of sacred smoke, ascending to the skies.
80
And, joyful, fix'd my vessel to the land.
There, with his peers, your royal sire I found;
And fell before him prostrate on the ground,
Imploring aid; my lineage I reveal'd,
Nor aught of all my tedious toils conceal'd.
Attentive, as I spoke, the hero heard,
Nor credulous nor diffident appear'd;
For prudence taught him, neither to receive
With easy faith, or rashly disbelieve.
And fell before him prostrate on the ground,
Imploring aid; my lineage I reveal'd,
Nor aught of all my tedious toils conceal'd.
Attentive, as I spoke, the hero heard,
Nor credulous nor diffident appear'd;
For prudence taught him, neither to receive
With easy faith, or rashly disbelieve.
O son of Neleus! tho' you justly claim,
For eloquence and skill, superior fame;
Yet to an equal glory ne'er aspire:
Vain were the hope to emulate your sire.
Eight days we feasted: still the flowing bowl
Return'd, and sweet discourse, to glad the soul,
With pleasure heard; as comes the sound of rain,
In summer's drought, to chear the careful swain.
And when the ninth returning morn arose,
Sixty bold mariners the hero chose,
Skill'd, thro' the deep, the flying keel to guide,
And sweep, with equal oars, the hoary tide:
They trimm'd a vessel, by their lord's command,
To waft me to my sire and native land.
With gifts enrich'd of robes and precious ore,
He sent me joyful from the Pylian shore.
Such Neleus was! and such his matchless praise
For hospitable deeds in former days;
The friend, the patron, destin'd to redress
The wrongs of fate, and comfort my distress.
For eloquence and skill, superior fame;
Yet to an equal glory ne'er aspire:
Vain were the hope to emulate your sire.
Eight days we feasted: still the flowing bowl
Return'd, and sweet discourse, to glad the soul,
With pleasure heard; as comes the sound of rain,
In summer's drought, to chear the careful swain.
And when the ninth returning morn arose,
Sixty bold mariners the hero chose,
Skill'd, thro' the deep, the flying keel to guide,
And sweep, with equal oars, the hoary tide:
They trimm'd a vessel, by their lord's command,
To waft me to my sire and native land.
With gifts enrich'd of robes and precious ore,
He sent me joyful from the Pylian shore.
Such Neleus was! and such his matchless praise
For hospitable deeds in former days;
The friend, the patron, destin'd to redress
The wrongs of fate, and comfort my distress.
81
But what is man! a reptile of the earth;
To toils successive fated from his birth;
Few are our joys; in long succession flow
Our griefs; we number all our days in woe.
Misfortune enter'd with my infant years;
My feeble age a load of sorrow bears.
Driv'n from my country by domestic foes,
Thebes but receiv'd me to partake her woes.
The sword I've seen and wide devouring fire,
Against her twice in fatal league conspire,
The public griefs, which ev'ry heart must share,
By nature taught to feel another's care,
Augment my own: our matrons weeping stand;
Our rev'rend elders mourn a ruin'd land;
Their furrow'd cheeks with streams of sorrow flow;
And wailing orphans swell the gen'ral woe;
They mourn their dearest hopes, in battle slain,
Whose limbs unbury'd load their native plain;
And now by us entreat that war may cease,
And, for seven days successive, yield to peace:
That mutually secure, with pious care,
Both hosts funereal honors may prepare
For ev'ry warrior, whom the rage of fight
Has swept to darkness and the coasts of night.
To ratify the truce, if ye approve,
We come alike commission'd, as to move.
To toils successive fated from his birth;
Few are our joys; in long succession flow
Our griefs; we number all our days in woe.
Misfortune enter'd with my infant years;
My feeble age a load of sorrow bears.
Driv'n from my country by domestic foes,
Thebes but receiv'd me to partake her woes.
The sword I've seen and wide devouring fire,
Against her twice in fatal league conspire,
The public griefs, which ev'ry heart must share,
By nature taught to feel another's care,
Augment my own: our matrons weeping stand;
Our rev'rend elders mourn a ruin'd land;
Their furrow'd cheeks with streams of sorrow flow;
And wailing orphans swell the gen'ral woe;
They mourn their dearest hopes, in battle slain,
Whose limbs unbury'd load their native plain;
And now by us entreat that war may cease,
And, for seven days successive, yield to peace:
That mutually secure, with pious care,
Both hosts funereal honors may prepare
For ev'ry warrior, whom the rage of fight
Has swept to darkness and the coasts of night.
To ratify the truce, if ye approve,
We come alike commission'd, as to move.
Thus Clytophon; and he, whose sov'reign sway
The warriors of the Pylian race obey,
Nestor, his partial favor thus express'd;
And to the Theban chief himself address'd.
The truth you speak, nor do your words appear
Prepar'd with art, or dictated by fear;
For what you tell, my memory recalls,
When young I saw you at my native walls,
Yourself a youth; tho' now a length of years,
Imprinted deep, in all your form appears;
Yet still, with sure remembrance, can I trace
Your voice the same and lineaments of face.
An infant then upon your knees I hung,
And catch'd the pleasing wonders from your tongue:
Your woes I pity'd, as I pity still;
And, were the chiefs determin'd by my will,
The truce should stand: for piety conspires
With justice, to demand what Thebes requires.
The warriors of the Pylian race obey,
82
And to the Theban chief himself address'd.
The truth you speak, nor do your words appear
Prepar'd with art, or dictated by fear;
For what you tell, my memory recalls,
When young I saw you at my native walls,
Yourself a youth; tho' now a length of years,
Imprinted deep, in all your form appears;
Yet still, with sure remembrance, can I trace
Your voice the same and lineaments of face.
An infant then upon your knees I hung,
And catch'd the pleasing wonders from your tongue:
Your woes I pity'd, as I pity still;
And, were the chiefs determin'd by my will,
The truce should stand: for piety conspires
With justice, to demand what Thebes requires.
The hero thus; the king of men replies:
Princes, in fight approv'd, in council wise!
What Thebes propounds 'tis yours alone to chuse
Whether ye will accept it or refuse:
For tho' your votes consenting, in my hand
Have plac'd the sceptre of supreme command;
Yet still my pow'r, obedient to your choice,
Shall with its sanction join the public voice.
Princes, in fight approv'd, in council wise!
What Thebes propounds 'tis yours alone to chuse
Whether ye will accept it or refuse:
For tho' your votes consenting, in my hand
Have plac'd the sceptre of supreme command;
Yet still my pow'r, obedient to your choice,
Shall with its sanction join the public voice.
The monarch thus; and thus the chief reply'd,
Whom fair Etolia's martial sons obey'd:
Princes, attend! and thou, whose sov'reign hand
Sways the dread sceptre of supreme command!
What Thebes requires I do not now oppose,
Because, insensible to human woes,
The widow's tears I scorn, the mother's sighs,
The groans of fathers, or the orphans cries,
Whose dearest hopes, in rage of battle slain,
With wounds defac'd, lie scatter'd on the plain:
Compassion for the host, which fruitless toil
So long has wasted in a foreign soil,
What Thebes propounds, impels me to dissuade,
And, for the living, disregard the dead.
How long has war and famine thin'd our pow'rs,
Inactive camp'd around the Theban tow'rs?
And pestilence, whose dire infection flies,
Blown by the furies thro' the tainted skies?
Many now wander on the Stygian shore,
Whom sires and consorts shall behold no more;
And many still, who yet enjoy the day,
Must follow down the dark Tartarean way,
If, blinded by the fates, our counsels bar
The course of conquest and protract the war.
Since equity and public right demands
That Thebes should fall by our avenging hands,
Now let us combat, till the gods above,
Who sit around the starry throne of Jove,
The judges of the nations, crown our toil,
So long endur'd, with victory and spoil;
Or, destine us to fall in glorious fight,
Elate and dauntless in the cause of right.
Shall we delay till dire infection spreads
Her raven wings o'er our devoted heads?
Till gen'rous wrath, by slow disease supprest,
Expires inactive in the warrior's breast,
And life, the price of glory, paid in vain,
We die forgotten on a foreign plain.
Whom fair Etolia's martial sons obey'd:
Princes, attend! and thou, whose sov'reign hand
Sways the dread sceptre of supreme command!
83
Because, insensible to human woes,
The widow's tears I scorn, the mother's sighs,
The groans of fathers, or the orphans cries,
Whose dearest hopes, in rage of battle slain,
With wounds defac'd, lie scatter'd on the plain:
Compassion for the host, which fruitless toil
So long has wasted in a foreign soil,
What Thebes propounds, impels me to dissuade,
And, for the living, disregard the dead.
How long has war and famine thin'd our pow'rs,
Inactive camp'd around the Theban tow'rs?
And pestilence, whose dire infection flies,
Blown by the furies thro' the tainted skies?
Many now wander on the Stygian shore,
Whom sires and consorts shall behold no more;
And many still, who yet enjoy the day,
Must follow down the dark Tartarean way,
If, blinded by the fates, our counsels bar
The course of conquest and protract the war.
Since equity and public right demands
That Thebes should fall by our avenging hands,
Now let us combat, till the gods above,
Who sit around the starry throne of Jove,
The judges of the nations, crown our toil,
So long endur'd, with victory and spoil;
Or, destine us to fall in glorious fight,
Elate and dauntless in the cause of right.
Shall we delay till dire infection spreads
Her raven wings o'er our devoted heads?
84
Expires inactive in the warrior's breast,
And life, the price of glory, paid in vain,
We die forgotten on a foreign plain.
Tydides thus; and he, whose sovereign sway
The warriors of the Pylian race obey,
Nestor reply'd, for eloquence approv'd,
By Pallas and the tuneful sisters lov'd:
Confed'rate kings! and thou, whose sov'reign hand
Sways the dread sceptre of supreme command,
With patience hear the reasons which I plead
For fun'ral rites, the honors of the dead.
Well have you heard the various ills that wait
On strife prolong'd, and war's disastrous state:
And they, who choose to dwell amid alarms,
The rage of slaughter and the din of arms,
Know little of the joys, when combats cease,
That crown with milder bliss the hours of peace.
Tho' gladly would I see, in vengeance just,
The Theban tow'rs confounded with the dust;
That from the war releas'd, we might again
Each share the pleasures of his native reign:
Yet let us not presumptuously withstand
What piety alike and right command,
The honors of the dead; nor tempt the gods,
To curse our labors, from their bright abodes.
Far in the heav'ns, above this mortal scene,
In boundless light, the Thund'rer sits serene;
He views the works of men; the good he knows,
And on their just attempts success bestows;
But blasts impiety, and mocks its aim,
With disappointment sure, and lasting shame.
The warriors of the Pylian race obey,
Nestor reply'd, for eloquence approv'd,
By Pallas and the tuneful sisters lov'd:
Confed'rate kings! and thou, whose sov'reign hand
Sways the dread sceptre of supreme command,
With patience hear the reasons which I plead
For fun'ral rites, the honors of the dead.
Well have you heard the various ills that wait
On strife prolong'd, and war's disastrous state:
And they, who choose to dwell amid alarms,
The rage of slaughter and the din of arms,
Know little of the joys, when combats cease,
That crown with milder bliss the hours of peace.
Tho' gladly would I see, in vengeance just,
The Theban tow'rs confounded with the dust;
That from the war releas'd, we might again
Each share the pleasures of his native reign:
Yet let us not presumptuously withstand
What piety alike and right command,
The honors of the dead; nor tempt the gods,
To curse our labors, from their bright abodes.
Far in the heav'ns, above this mortal scene,
In boundless light, the Thund'rer sits serene;
85
And on their just attempts success bestows;
But blasts impiety, and mocks its aim,
With disappointment sure, and lasting shame.
Attend, ye princes! and I shall unfold
What sage Harmodius taught my sire of old.
The Locri summon'd all their martial pow'rs,
And fought around the Orchomenian tow'rs.
From oxen seiz'd, began the dire debate;
And wide and wasteful was the work of fate.
The Orchomenians oft a truce propos'd
For fun'ral rites; the Locrian chiefs oppos'd.
Nine days expir'd, the bleeding warriors lay;
Their wounds hot streaming to the solar ray.
From Styx's sable shore their ghosts implor'd,
With suppliant cries, hell's dread avenging lord.
He heard, and from the gloomy deep below
Of Erebus profound, the house of woe,
A fury sent, the fiercest of the crew,
Whose iron scourges human crimes pursue:
Discord her name; among th' infernal gods
She dwells, excluded from the blest abodes;
Tho' oft on earth she rears her baleful head,
To kindle strife, and make the nations bleed.
The fury came; and, hov'ring o'er the plain,
Devoted with her eyes the Locrian train.
In form a raven, to a tow'r she flew,
Which rose upon a precipice in view,
And on the airy summit took her seat,
With potent charms, to kindle dire debate.
The howling dogs her presence first declare;
The war-horse trembling snorts aloft in air;
On man at last the dire infection fell,
The awful vengeance of the pow'rs of hell.
Confusion straight thro' all the camp is found;
The wand'ring centinel deserts his ground,
Fatally gay and crown'd with ev'ry weed,
Which weeping matrons scatter o'er the dead;
Of dire portent: but when the silent reign
Of night possess'd the mountains and the plain,
Above the camp her torch the fury rear'd,
Red, in the air, its baleful flame appear'd,
Kindling debate: outrageous strife arose,
Loud as the ocean when a tempest blows,
O'er all the plain, and stun'd the ear of night
With shouts tumultuous and the din of fight.
Down from her airy stand the Goddess came,
Shot like a meteor, with a stream of flame,
To kindle fiercer strife, with stronger charms,
To swell the tumult and the rage of arms.
The combat burn'd; the Orchomenians heard
With horror, nor beyond their walls appear'd,
By awe divine restrain'd: but when the light
Return'd successive on the steps of night,
From ev'ry tow'r they saw the spacious plain
With havoc heap'd, and mountains of the slain.
The secret cause the augurs first declar'd;
The justice of the gods they own'd and fear'd.
No fun'ral rite the Orchomenian state
On them bestow'd, the vulgar or the great;
In one deep pit, whose mouth extended wide
Four hundred cubit length from side to side,
They whelm'd them all; their bucklers and their spears,
The steeds, the chariots, and the charioteers,
One ruin mix'd; for so the will of Jove
The priests declar'd; and heap'd a mount above:
Such was the fate, by heav'n and hell decreed,
To punish bold contemners of the dead.
And let not us their fatal wrath provoke,
Nor merit by our guilt an equal stroke;
But seal the truce, and piously bestow
What to the reliques of the dead we owe.
What sage Harmodius taught my sire of old.
The Locri summon'd all their martial pow'rs,
And fought around the Orchomenian tow'rs.
From oxen seiz'd, began the dire debate;
And wide and wasteful was the work of fate.
The Orchomenians oft a truce propos'd
For fun'ral rites; the Locrian chiefs oppos'd.
Nine days expir'd, the bleeding warriors lay;
Their wounds hot streaming to the solar ray.
From Styx's sable shore their ghosts implor'd,
With suppliant cries, hell's dread avenging lord.
He heard, and from the gloomy deep below
Of Erebus profound, the house of woe,
A fury sent, the fiercest of the crew,
Whose iron scourges human crimes pursue:
Discord her name; among th' infernal gods
She dwells, excluded from the blest abodes;
Tho' oft on earth she rears her baleful head,
To kindle strife, and make the nations bleed.
The fury came; and, hov'ring o'er the plain,
Devoted with her eyes the Locrian train.
In form a raven, to a tow'r she flew,
Which rose upon a precipice in view,
And on the airy summit took her seat,
With potent charms, to kindle dire debate.
86
The war-horse trembling snorts aloft in air;
On man at last the dire infection fell,
The awful vengeance of the pow'rs of hell.
Confusion straight thro' all the camp is found;
The wand'ring centinel deserts his ground,
Fatally gay and crown'd with ev'ry weed,
Which weeping matrons scatter o'er the dead;
Of dire portent: but when the silent reign
Of night possess'd the mountains and the plain,
Above the camp her torch the fury rear'd,
Red, in the air, its baleful flame appear'd,
Kindling debate: outrageous strife arose,
Loud as the ocean when a tempest blows,
O'er all the plain, and stun'd the ear of night
With shouts tumultuous and the din of fight.
Down from her airy stand the Goddess came,
Shot like a meteor, with a stream of flame,
To kindle fiercer strife, with stronger charms,
To swell the tumult and the rage of arms.
The combat burn'd; the Orchomenians heard
With horror, nor beyond their walls appear'd,
By awe divine restrain'd: but when the light
Return'd successive on the steps of night,
From ev'ry tow'r they saw the spacious plain
With havoc heap'd, and mountains of the slain.
The secret cause the augurs first declar'd;
The justice of the gods they own'd and fear'd.
No fun'ral rite the Orchomenian state
On them bestow'd, the vulgar or the great;
87
Four hundred cubit length from side to side,
They whelm'd them all; their bucklers and their spears,
The steeds, the chariots, and the charioteers,
One ruin mix'd; for so the will of Jove
The priests declar'd; and heap'd a mount above:
Such was the fate, by heav'n and hell decreed,
To punish bold contemners of the dead.
And let not us their fatal wrath provoke,
Nor merit by our guilt an equal stroke;
But seal the truce, and piously bestow
What to the reliques of the dead we owe.
He said; the peers their joint assent declare,
The dead to honor, and the gods revere.
The king of men commands a herald straight
The priests to call, and hasten ev'ry rite.
While thus the sov'reign mandate they obey'd,
Th' Etolian leader rose, and frowning said:
The dead to honor, and the gods revere.
The king of men commands a herald straight
The priests to call, and hasten ev'ry rite.
While thus the sov'reign mandate they obey'd,
Th' Etolian leader rose, and frowning said:
O blind to truth! and fated to sustain
A length of woes, and tedious toils in vain!
By sounds deceiv'd, as to her fatal den
Some vocal sorc'ress lures the steps of men;
O eloquence! thou fatal charm! how few,
Guided by thee, their real good pursue!
By thee, our minds, with magic fetters bound,
In all decisions, true and false confound.
Not the unnumber'd wrecks, which lie along
The Syrens' coast the trophies of their song,
Nor there where Circe from the neighb'ring deep,
With strong inchantments, draws the passing ship,
Can match thy spoils: O let me ne'er obey,
And follow blindly, as you point the way!
Confed'rate kings! since nothing can oppose
The truce you purpose with our treach'rous foes,
With mischief pregnant; I alone am free,
Nor these my eyes the fatal rite shall see;
Lest it be said, when mischief shall succeed,
Tydides saw it, and approv'd the deed.
A length of woes, and tedious toils in vain!
By sounds deceiv'd, as to her fatal den
Some vocal sorc'ress lures the steps of men;
O eloquence! thou fatal charm! how few,
Guided by thee, their real good pursue!
By thee, our minds, with magic fetters bound,
In all decisions, true and false confound.
Not the unnumber'd wrecks, which lie along
The Syrens' coast the trophies of their song,
88
With strong inchantments, draws the passing ship,
Can match thy spoils: O let me ne'er obey,
And follow blindly, as you point the way!
Confed'rate kings! since nothing can oppose
The truce you purpose with our treach'rous foes,
With mischief pregnant; I alone am free,
Nor these my eyes the fatal rite shall see;
Lest it be said, when mischief shall succeed,
Tydides saw it, and approv'd the deed.
Speaking he grasp'd his spear and pond'rous shield;
And mov'd like Mars, when, 'midst th' imbattel'd field,
Sublime he stalks to kindle fierce alarms,
To swell the tumult and the rage of arms.
Such seem'd the chief: the princes with surprize
Turn'd on the king of men, at once their eyes.
And mov'd like Mars, when, 'midst th' imbattel'd field,
Sublime he stalks to kindle fierce alarms,
To swell the tumult and the rage of arms.
Such seem'd the chief: the princes with surprize
Turn'd on the king of men, at once their eyes.
He thus began: Since now the public choice
The truce approves, with one consenting voice;
Tydides only, with superior pride,
Tho' youngest, still the readiest to decide,
Our gen'ral sense condemns; his haughty soul
Must not the counsels of the host control,
Brave tho' he is: the altars ready stand;
In order waits the consecrated band;
Straight let us seal the truce with blood and wine,
And, to attest it, call the pow'rs divine.
The truce approves, with one consenting voice;
Tydides only, with superior pride,
Tho' youngest, still the readiest to decide,
Our gen'ral sense condemns; his haughty soul
Must not the counsels of the host control,
Brave tho' he is: the altars ready stand;
In order waits the consecrated band;
Straight let us seal the truce with blood and wine,
And, to attest it, call the pow'rs divine.
89
The monarch thus; Tydides to his tent,
Thro' the still host, in sullen sorrow went.
Fix'd in his mind the fatal vision stay'd,
Snatch'd by invading force his lovely maid;
The fraud of Cytherea; still his heart
Incessant anguish felt, and lasting smart:
And, as a lion, when his side retains
A barbed shaft, the cause of bitter pains,
Growls in some lonely shade; his friends declin'd,
He breath'd in groans the anguish of his mind.
Thro' the still host, in sullen sorrow went.
Fix'd in his mind the fatal vision stay'd,
Snatch'd by invading force his lovely maid;
The fraud of Cytherea; still his heart
Incessant anguish felt, and lasting smart:
And, as a lion, when his side retains
A barbed shaft, the cause of bitter pains,
Growls in some lonely shade; his friends declin'd,
He breath'd in groans the anguish of his mind.
Now round the flaming hearth th' assembly stands,
And Theseus thus invokes with lifted hands:
Hear me, ye pow'rs, that rule the realms of light!
And ye dread sov'reigns of the shades of night!
If, till the eighth succeeding sun displays,
Above the eastern hills, his early rays,
Any bold warrior of the Argive bands,
Against a Theban lifts his hostile hands
By us approv'd; let ev'ry curse succeed
On me, and all, for perjury decreed.
And as by blood our mutual oath we seal,
The blood of victims drawn by deathful steel;
So let their blood be shed, who, scorning right,
Profanely shall presume its ties to slight.
Apollo's priest, for Thebes, resum'd the vow,
The gods above, invoking, and below,
Their vengeance to inflict, if force, or art,
The truce should violate on either part.
And Theseus thus invokes with lifted hands:
Hear me, ye pow'rs, that rule the realms of light!
And ye dread sov'reigns of the shades of night!
If, till the eighth succeeding sun displays,
Above the eastern hills, his early rays,
Any bold warrior of the Argive bands,
Against a Theban lifts his hostile hands
By us approv'd; let ev'ry curse succeed
On me, and all, for perjury decreed.
And as by blood our mutual oath we seal,
The blood of victims drawn by deathful steel;
So let their blood be shed, who, scorning right,
Profanely shall presume its ties to slight.
Apollo's priest, for Thebes, resum'd the vow,
The gods above, invoking, and below,
Their vengeance to inflict, if force, or art,
The truce should violate on either part.
90
The rites concluded thus, the king commands
Two younger warriors of his native bands
A chariot to prepare; the driver's place
Sophronimus assum'd; with tardy pace,
Ascend the sage ambassadors; before
A lighted torch Asteropæus bore,
And led the way; the tents, the field of war,
They pass'd, and at the gate dismiss'd the car.
Two younger warriors of his native bands
A chariot to prepare; the driver's place
Sophronimus assum'd; with tardy pace,
Ascend the sage ambassadors; before
A lighted torch Asteropæus bore,
And led the way; the tents, the field of war,
They pass'd, and at the gate dismiss'd the car.
| The Epigoniad | |