 | Poems |  |
59
CASTOR AND POLLUX.
FROM THEOCRITUS: IDYLL. XXII.
Leda's and Jove's great sons my verse inspire—
The sons of Jove, their ægis-bearing sire!
Castor;—and Pollux dreadful in the lists,
The cestus brac'd with thongs around his wrists!
My frequent song shall hymn your manly grace,
Ye twins, the glory of the Spartan race!
Powers, who protect us from the foe, and shield
Our scar'd steeds trampling on the carnag'd field!
Powers that o'erlook the struggling ship, and save,
When stars arise malignant o'er the wave!
Behold the loosen'd tempests swell the tide,
Lash the high helm, and bulge each bursting side,
And pour into the poop the mountain-surge;
While the rent vessel reels upon the verge
Of fate—its torn sails hanging in the blast,
And wildly dasht around each shatter'd mast!
Clouds big with hail the midnight heavens deform,
And the broad ocean thunders to the storm!
But ye, tho' now the closing waves pursue,
From the chasm rescue the despairing crew!
Lo! the clouds break! their scatter'd fragments fly,
Whilst the drear winds in whispering murmurs die;
And each mild star that marks the tranquil night
Gilds the reposing wave with friendly light.
The sons of Jove, their ægis-bearing sire!
Castor;—and Pollux dreadful in the lists,
The cestus brac'd with thongs around his wrists!
My frequent song shall hymn your manly grace,
Ye twins, the glory of the Spartan race!
Powers, who protect us from the foe, and shield
Our scar'd steeds trampling on the carnag'd field!
Powers that o'erlook the struggling ship, and save,
When stars arise malignant o'er the wave!
Behold the loosen'd tempests swell the tide,
Lash the high helm, and bulge each bursting side,
And pour into the poop the mountain-surge;
While the rent vessel reels upon the verge
Of fate—its torn sails hanging in the blast,
And wildly dasht around each shatter'd mast!
60
And the broad ocean thunders to the storm!
But ye, tho' now the closing waves pursue,
From the chasm rescue the despairing crew!
Lo! the clouds break! their scatter'd fragments fly,
Whilst the drear winds in whispering murmurs die;
And each mild star that marks the tranquil night
Gilds the reposing wave with friendly light.
Midst shores, that threaten'd, as in act to close
Their adverse rocks, and Pontus drear with snows,
When Argo pass'd, (her freight the sons of gods)
And safely reach'd Bebrycia's wild abodes;
Strait down the vessel's sides the chiefs descend,
And o'er the shelter'd beach their footsteps bend;
Place on the kindling fires the vase; and spread
Soft on a shaded spot, their leafy bed.
Their adverse rocks, and Pontus drear with snows,
When Argo pass'd, (her freight the sons of gods)
And safely reach'd Bebrycia's wild abodes;
Strait down the vessel's sides the chiefs descend,
And o'er the shelter'd beach their footsteps bend;
Place on the kindling fires the vase; and spread
Soft on a shaded spot, their leafy bed.
The Royal Brothers, eager to explore
The sylvan scenes, far wander'd from the shore;
O'er a fair mountain's woodland summits stray'd,
The varied beauties of its brow survey'd;
And, tracing the recesses of the mount,
Found, deep-retir'd, a cool perennial fount.
Brimful beneath a craggy rock it gleam'd;
Whilst, at the bottom of the woodland beam'd
Full many a scatter'd pebble to the light,
As crystal or as polisht silver bright.
Beside this spot, the plane-tree quivering play'd,
And pensive poplars wav'd a paler shade;
While many a fir in living verdure grew,
And the deep cypress darken'd on the view:
And there each flower that marks the balmy close
Of Spring, the little bee's ambrosia, blows!
The sylvan scenes, far wander'd from the shore;
O'er a fair mountain's woodland summits stray'd,
The varied beauties of its brow survey'd;
61
Found, deep-retir'd, a cool perennial fount.
Brimful beneath a craggy rock it gleam'd;
Whilst, at the bottom of the woodland beam'd
Full many a scatter'd pebble to the light,
As crystal or as polisht silver bright.
Beside this spot, the plane-tree quivering play'd,
And pensive poplars wav'd a paler shade;
While many a fir in living verdure grew,
And the deep cypress darken'd on the view:
And there each flower that marks the balmy close
Of Spring, the little bee's ambrosia, blows!
Hard by (his couch the rock) a chieftain frown'd,
His ears fresh reeking from the gauntlet's wound.
Dire was his giant form; and amply spher'd
The broad projection of his breasts appear'd:
Like some Colossus wrought too firm to feel,
His back all sinewy seem'd of solid steel.
On his strong brawny arms his muscles stood,
Like rocks, that, rounded by the torrent flood,
Thro' the clear wave their shelving ridges show,
One smooth and polisht prominence below.
His ears fresh reeking from the gauntlet's wound.
Dire was his giant form; and amply spher'd
The broad projection of his breasts appear'd:
Like some Colossus wrought too firm to feel,
His back all sinewy seem'd of solid steel.
On his strong brawny arms his muscles stood,
Like rocks, that, rounded by the torrent flood,
62
One smooth and polisht prominence below.
Rough round his loins a lion's spoils were flung:
Suspended by the paws the trophy hung.
Suspended by the paws the trophy hung.
| Poems | |