 | Judith, Esther, and other poems |  |
75
From the French of C. A. Demoustier.
No sooner was Venus delivered of Cupid, than Jupiter reading in his sweet and perfidious countenance the mischief that he would one day cause, proscribed him in his cradle. Venus, to conceal him from the wrath of Jupiter, took her son in her arms, and feeble yet, sought with her tender burthen the forests of the Isle of Cyprus. There she forgot the brilliant pleasures of the celestial court, and gave herself up to the delights of maternal love.
Through all the day 'twas her's to proveThat soft but anxious transport blending,
And still with thousand fears contending,
Known but to those who dearly love.
Upon her lap the urchin played
Smiling sweetly when carest:
His lip her ivory bosom prest
And every care was overpaid.
Reposed he, “winds be hushed!” said she,
“Young roses, now your fragrance shed!
Breath, Zephyr, breath around his head!
The poppy wreaths designed for me.
O'er him, (ah! far more dear!) dispense,
Sweet slumber—how he smiles! to wake,
Were sweet, forever, for his sake—
How fair is sleeping innocence!
And can that fragile hope be he
Whose laws must govern all the earth?
Whose power, the moment of his birth,
Was doomed to combat Fate's decree?—
76
Heroes and kings must wear his chains,
And every mortal prove his pains—
Even the gods—and he is mine!—
But why thus alter? Suffers he?
Ah! what can hurt him? He will cry
No—his eyes open, with a sigh
He wakes, he wakes to smile on me.”
| Judith, Esther, and other poems | |