Dramas Translations, and Occasional Poems. By Barbarina Lady Dacre.[i.e. Barbarina Brand] In Two Volumes |
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239
TRANSLATION OF HORACE'S ODE TO GROSPHUS.
The mariner on the Egean tost,
Sighs for repose, when from the pilot's sight
The moon is shrouded, and th' uncertain light
Of friendly stars in gathering clouds is lost.
The Thracian, terrible to armed foes,
Asks of the Gods repose;
Repose the weary Median fain would know
Who bends th' unerring bow;
Repose, my Grosphus, not by gold procured,
By robes of Tyrian dye, nor precious gems ensured.
Sighs for repose, when from the pilot's sight
The moon is shrouded, and th' uncertain light
Of friendly stars in gathering clouds is lost.
The Thracian, terrible to armed foes,
Asks of the Gods repose;
Repose the weary Median fain would know
Who bends th' unerring bow;
Repose, my Grosphus, not by gold procured,
By robes of Tyrian dye, nor precious gems ensured.
For not the wealth proud Persia can display,
Th' attendant lictor, and the consul's state,
The lofty dome, and all the gifts of fate,
Can the wild tumults of the soul allay,
And still the breast; nor from the fretted roof
Keep fluttering cares aloof:
Blest who, content with little, simply fares,
Whose board no goblet bears,
Save one descended from his frugal sires;
His rest by fears unbroke, or sordid, base desires.
Th' attendant lictor, and the consul's state,
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Can the wild tumults of the soul allay,
And still the breast; nor from the fretted roof
Keep fluttering cares aloof:
Blest who, content with little, simply fares,
Whose board no goblet bears,
Save one descended from his frugal sires;
His rest by fears unbroke, or sordid, base desires.
Ah why this breath of life so fleeting prize?
With distant aim why projects idly form?
Why climates seek that other sun-beams warm?
Say, can the wretch who from his country flies,
Fly from himself?—Destructive care e'en now
Mounts the tall vessel's prow!
Behold the warrior on the rapid steed!
Swift care o'ertakes his speed!
Swifter than flies the stag that, startled, springs,
Swifter than Eurus bears the clouds upon his wings.
With distant aim why projects idly form?
Why climates seek that other sun-beams warm?
Say, can the wretch who from his country flies,
Fly from himself?—Destructive care e'en now
Mounts the tall vessel's prow!
Behold the warrior on the rapid steed!
Swift care o'ertakes his speed!
Swifter than flies the stag that, startled, springs,
Swifter than Eurus bears the clouds upon his wings.
The man of mind serene, beyond to-day
No thought will take, still on the present fixt;
And if his cup with bitterness be mixt,
The cheerful smile upon his lip will play,
Tempering the draught—for not on earth below
May we each blessing know:
Renown'd Achilles in his manly bloom
Found an untimely tomb:
Tithonus languish'd in eternal years,
And Time may snatch from thee what he for me prepares.
No thought will take, still on the present fixt;
And if his cup with bitterness be mixt,
The cheerful smile upon his lip will play,
Tempering the draught—for not on earth below
May we each blessing know:
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Found an untimely tomb:
Tithonus languish'd in eternal years,
And Time may snatch from thee what he for me prepares.
Sicilian cows, and herds unnumber'd, low
Along thy meads; eager thy coursers neigh,
That in the chariot race thy hand obey;
Gorgeous with purple dye thy vestures glow.
To me the gentle fates (my promised meed)
An humble farm decreed;
O'er my rapt thought in happy hour to feel
The Grecian muse soft steal;
And a calm soul, that with determined choice
Shuns the malignant world, and scorns its idle voice.
Along thy meads; eager thy coursers neigh,
That in the chariot race thy hand obey;
Gorgeous with purple dye thy vestures glow.
To me the gentle fates (my promised meed)
An humble farm decreed;
O'er my rapt thought in happy hour to feel
The Grecian muse soft steal;
And a calm soul, that with determined choice
Shuns the malignant world, and scorns its idle voice.
Jan. 1805.
The above paraphrase was undertaken at the desire of a friend, who accompanied the request with a literal translation in English prose. Had I understood the original, or been, at the time, aware how peculiarly unfitted to the character of Horace is that more expanded metre which I adopted, I should have employed a shorter measure, and have attempted a more compressed style.
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