Medulla Poetarum Romanorum Or, the Most Beautiful and Instructive Passages of the Roman Poets. Being a Collection, (Disposed under proper Heads,) Of such Descriptions, Allusions, Comparisons, Characters, and Sentiments, as may best serve to shew the Religion, Learning, Politicks, Arts, Customs, Opinions, Manners, and Circumstances of the Antients. With Translations of the same in English Verse. By Mr. Henry Baker |
 | I. |
 | II. |
|
|
Pigmalion and the Statue. |
|
 | Medulla Poetarum Romanorum |  |
Pigmalion and the Statue.
Long time Pigmalion led a single Life:
Women were so bad he durst not take a Wife:
But hating Idleness, the Source of Ill,
In curious Sculpture exercis'd his Skill:
And carv'd a Maid of Ivory, fo fair,
That Nature could not with his Art compare.
Women were so bad he durst not take a Wife:
But hating Idleness, the Source of Ill,
In curious Sculpture exercis'd his Skill:
And carv'd a Maid of Ivory, fo fair,
That Nature could not with his Art compare.
With Admiration struck Pigmalion stands,
And doats on Beauties made by his own Hands.
The Statue wore a real Virgin's Face,
And seeming Life did ev'ry Feature grace:
It cou'd have mov'd, (one would have thought,) but strove
With Modesty, and was asham'd to move.
Art hid with Art, so well perform'd the Cheat,
It caught the Carver with his own Deceit.
Pleas'd with Surprize his Eyes her Charms explore,
And still, the more he looks, he loves the more.
With curious Hand he feels it oft, to try
If Flesh it be, or only Ivory:
Nor that 'tis Iv'ry can himself perswade,
But courts and clasps it like a living Maid:
Kisses, and thinks that she returns the Kiss,
Grasps, and believes her Fingers twin'd in his.
But when he strain'd her hard, he was afraid
His Hands had made a Dint, and bruis'd his Maid.
And doats on Beauties made by his own Hands.
The Statue wore a real Virgin's Face,
And seeming Life did ev'ry Feature grace:
It cou'd have mov'd, (one would have thought,) but strove
With Modesty, and was asham'd to move.
Art hid with Art, so well perform'd the Cheat,
It caught the Carver with his own Deceit.
225
And still, the more he looks, he loves the more.
With curious Hand he feels it oft, to try
If Flesh it be, or only Ivory:
Nor that 'tis Iv'ry can himself perswade,
But courts and clasps it like a living Maid:
Kisses, and thinks that she returns the Kiss,
Grasps, and believes her Fingers twin'd in his.
But when he strain'd her hard, he was afraid
His Hands had made a Dint, and bruis'd his Maid.
With Flatt'ry now her Mind he seeks to move,
And now with Gifts, the pow'rful Bribes of Love:
Her Closet first he furnishes, and fills
The crowded Shelves with Rarities of Shells:
And orient Pearls, which from the Conchs he drew,
And all the sparkling Stones of various Hue:
And Parrots imitating human Tongue,
And singing Birds in silver Cages hung:
And ev'ry beauteous Flow'r, and fragrant Green,
And painted Toys, and Amber, shone between.
Rich fashionable Robes her Person deck,
Pendants her Ears, and Pearls adorn her Neck:
Her taper Fingers glitt'ring Diamonds grac'd,
And an embroider'd Zone surrounds her slender Waste:
But tho' with all this Cost and Trouble drest,
Lovely she look'd; she look'd when naked best.
And now with Gifts, the pow'rful Bribes of Love:
Her Closet first he furnishes, and fills
The crowded Shelves with Rarities of Shells:
And orient Pearls, which from the Conchs he drew,
And all the sparkling Stones of various Hue:
And Parrots imitating human Tongue,
And singing Birds in silver Cages hung:
And ev'ry beauteous Flow'r, and fragrant Green,
And painted Toys, and Amber, shone between.
Rich fashionable Robes her Person deck,
Pendants her Ears, and Pearls adorn her Neck:
Her taper Fingers glitt'ring Diamonds grac'd,
And an embroider'd Zone surrounds her slender Waste:
But tho' with all this Cost and Trouble drest,
Lovely she look'd; she look'd when naked best.
Along he lays her on a stately Bed,
With Cov'rings of Sidonian Purple spread:
Calls her his Bride, and, as of Sense possess'd,
Soft Pillows places for her Head to rest.
With Cov'rings of Sidonian Purple spread:
Calls her his Bride, and, as of Sense possess'd,
Soft Pillows places for her Head to rest.
The Feast of Venus came: a solemn Day,
To which the Cypriots due Devotion pay:
With gilded Horns the Milk-white Heifers led,
Slaughter'd before the sacred Altars bled:
And Clouds of Incense o'er the Altar spread.
To which the Cypriots due Devotion pay:
With gilded Horns the Milk-white Heifers led,
Slaughter'd before the sacred Altars bled:
And Clouds of Incense o'er the Altar spread.
Pigmalion too with Gifts approach'd the Shrine,
And trembling thus implor'd the Pow'rs divine:
Almighty Gods! if all we Mortals want,
If all we can require, be yours to grant,
Make this fair Statue mine, he would have said,
But chang'd his Words for shame: and only pray'd,
Give me a Wife just like my Iv'ry Maid!
And trembling thus implor'd the Pow'rs divine:
Almighty Gods! if all we Mortals want,
If all we can require, be yours to grant,
227
But chang'd his Words for shame: and only pray'd,
Give me a Wife just like my Iv'ry Maid!
The Golden Goddess present at the Pray'r,
Well knew he meant th' inanimated Fair;
And gave the Sign of granting his Desire,
For thrice in chearful Flames ascends the Fire.
To his dear Image home again he hies,
And on the Bed close to her Bosom lies:
His Lips to her's he press'd; the Virgin's Kiss
To him seem'd warm, and oft he prov'd the Bliss.
Transported more, no longer now he stays,
But his fond Hand on her hard Bosom lays:
Hard tho' it was, beginning to relent,
The Iv'ry Breast beneath his Fingers bent:
The pleasing Task he fails not to renew,
Soft, and more soft, at ev'ry Touch it grew:
Like pliant Wax, when working Hands reduce
The Mass to Form, and make it fit for Use.
Amaz'd, he would believe, but still in Pain,
He fondly wanders o'er her once again:
And feels the soft'ning Flesh inform'd with Heat,
And in each Vein the leaping Pulses beat.
Well knew he meant th' inanimated Fair;
And gave the Sign of granting his Desire,
For thrice in chearful Flames ascends the Fire.
To his dear Image home again he hies,
And on the Bed close to her Bosom lies:
His Lips to her's he press'd; the Virgin's Kiss
To him seem'd warm, and oft he prov'd the Bliss.
Transported more, no longer now he stays,
But his fond Hand on her hard Bosom lays:
Hard tho' it was, beginning to relent,
The Iv'ry Breast beneath his Fingers bent:
The pleasing Task he fails not to renew,
Soft, and more soft, at ev'ry Touch it grew:
Like pliant Wax, when working Hands reduce
The Mass to Form, and make it fit for Use.
Amaz'd, he would believe, but still in Pain,
He fondly wanders o'er her once again:
And feels the soft'ning Flesh inform'd with Heat,
And in each Vein the leaping Pulses beat.
Convinc'd, o'erjoy'd, his study'd Thanks and Praise,
To her who made the Miracle he pays:
His Lips to her's he joins, which seem to melt,
For now the Virgin his warm Kisses felt:
And as she, blushing, ope's her beauteous Eyes,
At once her Lover, and the Light she spies.
The Goddess bless'd the Marriage she had made:
And when nine Crescents had at full display'd,
Their joining Horns, repleat with borrow'd Flame,
She Paphos bore: who gave that Isle a Name.—
To her who made the Miracle he pays:
His Lips to her's he joins, which seem to melt,
For now the Virgin his warm Kisses felt:
And as she, blushing, ope's her beauteous Eyes,
At once her Lover, and the Light she spies.
The Goddess bless'd the Marriage she had made:
And when nine Crescents had at full display'd,
Their joining Horns, repleat with borrow'd Flame,
She Paphos bore: who gave that Isle a Name.—
| Medulla Poetarum Romanorum | |