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 |
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Bacchus.
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Bacchus.
See Wine.
With rosy Cheeks plump Bacchus march'd along:
His curling Hair with wreathing Ivy ty'd,
And on his Back the Parthian Tyger's Pride:
The gilded Claws in equal Order meet,
And his crown'd Spear assists his erring Feet.—
His curling Hair with wreathing Ivy ty'd,
And on his Back the Parthian Tyger's Pride:
The gilded Claws in equal Order meet,
And his crown'd Spear assists his erring Feet.—
Bacchus returning from his Indian War,
By Tygers drawn triumphant in his Car,
From Nisa's Top descended on the Plains,
With curling Vines around his purple Reins.—
By Tygers drawn triumphant in his Car,
From Nisa's Top descended on the Plains,
With curling Vines around his purple Reins.—
The God himself with clust'ring Grapes was crown'd,
And shook his Spear, which curling Vines surround:
Tygers and Lynxes round him seem'd to lye,
And painted Panthers dreadful to the Eye.—
And shook his Spear, which curling Vines surround:
Tygers and Lynxes round him seem'd to lye,
And painted Panthers dreadful to the Eye.—
Thee, Bacchus! now I sing:—
Hither, Lenæus, Father, (with thy Gifts
All here abounds: For Thee the Field full charg'd
With viny Autumn flourishes: For Thee
In red o'er-flowing Vats the Vintage foams:)
Hither, Lenæus, Father, come: and tinge
Thy Legs, unbuskin'd, in new Must, with me.—
Hither, Lenæus, Father, (with thy Gifts
93
With viny Autumn flourishes: For Thee
In red o'er-flowing Vats the Vintage foams:)
Hither, Lenæus, Father, come: and tinge
Thy Legs, unbuskin'd, in new Must, with me.—
—An horn'd He-Goat
Sacred to Bacchus, on each Altar bleeds:
And ancient Interludes adorn the Scene.
And all the Roads and Villages around,
Th' Athenians Prizes for those Plays propos'd:
And jovial o'er their Bowls in grassy Meads,
Danc'd upon Goat-skin Bottles sleek with Oil.
Nor less th' Ausonian Colony of Troy
Sport in rude Laughter, and unpolish'd Verse:
Of hollow Bark uncouth rough Vizors wear:
Thee, Bacchus, Thee with joyous Songs invoke,
And hang thy little Images aloft
On a tall Pine. Hence ev'ry Vineyard sprouts,
And swells with future Wine: The hollow Vales,
And shady Groves, to which soe'er the God
Turns his gay Face, with copious Fruit abound.
Therefore to Bacchus, in our Country's Verse,
We'll sing due Praise, and Cakes, and Chargers bring:
And at his Altar kill the Victim Goat
Dragg'd by the Horns: and roast his well-fed Flesh,
On Hazle-Spits, before the sacred Fire.—
Sacred to Bacchus, on each Altar bleeds:
And ancient Interludes adorn the Scene.
And all the Roads and Villages around,
Th' Athenians Prizes for those Plays propos'd:
And jovial o'er their Bowls in grassy Meads,
Danc'd upon Goat-skin Bottles sleek with Oil.
Nor less th' Ausonian Colony of Troy
Sport in rude Laughter, and unpolish'd Verse:
Of hollow Bark uncouth rough Vizors wear:
Thee, Bacchus, Thee with joyous Songs invoke,
And hang thy little Images aloft
On a tall Pine. Hence ev'ry Vineyard sprouts,
And swells with future Wine: The hollow Vales,
And shady Groves, to which soe'er the God
Turns his gay Face, with copious Fruit abound.
Therefore to Bacchus, in our Country's Verse,
We'll sing due Praise, and Cakes, and Chargers bring:
And at his Altar kill the Victim Goat
Dragg'd by the Horns: and roast his well-fed Flesh,
On Hazle-Spits, before the sacred Fire.—
| Medulla Poetarum Romanorum | |