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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Affection Filial. |
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 | Medulla Poetarum Romanorum |  |
Affection Filial.
Then
Jason thus his
Spouse address'd, O, Wife!
To whom I stand indebted for my Life:
Whose Tenderness and boundless Favours prove,
How much Thou art a Miracle of Love:
If Magick can:—what cannot that surmount?
O! take some needless Years from my Account,
And to my Father's Life the Number place:
He spoke: and as he spoke the Tears bedew'd his Face.—
To whom I stand indebted for my Life:
Whose Tenderness and boundless Favours prove,
How much Thou art a Miracle of Love:
If Magick can:—what cannot that surmount?
O! take some needless Years from my Account,
And to my Father's Life the Number place:
He spoke: and as he spoke the Tears bedew'd his Face.—
—Now
The Fire more loudly roars: and, from the Walls
The blazing Torrent nearer rolls the Flames.
Haste then, dear Father! on my Shoulders lay
Your aged Body: I the Load will bear,
Nor think that Labour hard: whatever Chance
Betides us, Both shall share one common Fate,
Escape together, or together fall.—
The Fire more loudly roars: and, from the Walls
The blazing Torrent nearer rolls the Flames.
Haste then, dear Father! on my Shoulders lay
Your aged Body: I the Load will bear,
Nor think that Labour hard: whatever Chance
Betides us, Both shall share one common Fate,
Escape together, or together fall.—
—Yet more than all
Rewards, and Prizes, one Thing I implore:
I have a Mother, from the ancient Race
Of Priam sprung: whose Fondness for her Son,
Urg'd her, unhappy, thro' the Toils of War
To follow me: nor could the Ilian Coasts
Detain her, nor the King Acestes' Walls.
Her, ignorant of whate'er Fate impends,
Unbless'd, and unsaluting, I forsake:
This Night, and thy Right Hand, I here attest,
I cannot bear my wretched Parent's Tears.
But Thou, I beg, console her helpless Age,
And aid her desolate: of that secure,
With less Concern shall I all Hazards run.—
Rewards, and Prizes, one Thing I implore:
I have a Mother, from the ancient Race
19
Urg'd her, unhappy, thro' the Toils of War
To follow me: nor could the Ilian Coasts
Detain her, nor the King Acestes' Walls.
Her, ignorant of whate'er Fate impends,
Unbless'd, and unsaluting, I forsake:
This Night, and thy Right Hand, I here attest,
I cannot bear my wretched Parent's Tears.
But Thou, I beg, console her helpless Age,
And aid her desolate: of that secure,
With less Concern shall I all Hazards run.—
Æneas, glad to see the
Tuscan's Blood,
Snatches his Fauchion from his Thigh with Haste,
And darts impetuous on his trembling Foe.
This Lausus saw: and struck with Fear and Grief,
For his lov'd Father by such Danger press'd,
Groan'd deep: and Tears ran trickling down his Cheeks.
The Sire, retreating, useless for the Fight,
And with his Wound disabled, back withdrew:
And in his Target trail'd the hostile Spear.
The Youth springs on amidst the thickest Arms,
Himself opposing to Æneas' Sword
Rais'd high, and ready to discharge the Blow.—
Snatches his Fauchion from his Thigh with Haste,
And darts impetuous on his trembling Foe.
This Lausus saw: and struck with Fear and Grief,
For his lov'd Father by such Danger press'd,
Groan'd deep: and Tears ran trickling down his Cheeks.
The Sire, retreating, useless for the Fight,
And with his Wound disabled, back withdrew:
And in his Target trail'd the hostile Spear.
The Youth springs on amidst the thickest Arms,
Himself opposing to Æneas' Sword
Rais'd high, and ready to discharge the Blow.—
| Medulla Poetarum Romanorum | |