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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Mercury.
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 | Medulla Poetarum Romanorum |  |
Mercury.
—Preparing to obey
His mighty Father's Will, first to his Feet
He binds the golden Sandals, which on Wings
Bear him aloft, as o'er the Seas, or Earth
He flies, and round him whirls the rapid Air.
Then takes his Wand:—With This pale Ghosts he calls
From Hell: sends Others to those dreary Realms:
Gives, or breaks Sleep: and Eyes unseals from Death.
Equip'd with This, he drives the Winds, and cuts
Th' opposing turbid Mists: and now discerns,
In his swift Flight, the Top, and lofty Sides
Of rocky Atlas, who sustains the Sky.
His mighty Father's Will, first to his Feet
He binds the golden Sandals, which on Wings
Bear him aloft, as o'er the Seas, or Earth
He flies, and round him whirls the rapid Air.
Then takes his Wand:—With This pale Ghosts he calls
From Hell: sends Others to those dreary Realms:
Gives, or breaks Sleep: and Eyes unseals from Death.
Equip'd with This, he drives the Winds, and cuts
Th' opposing turbid Mists: and now discerns,
In his swift Flight, the Top, and lofty Sides
Of rocky Atlas, who sustains the Sky.
Here first Cyllenius, pois'd on even Wings,
Alighted: Thence with all his Body's Force,
Flings himself headlong from the steepy Height
Down to the Ocean: Like the Bird that flies,
Low, skimming o'er the Surface, near the Sea,
Around the Shores, around the fishy Rocks:
So Mercury in Air 'twixt Earth and Heav'n,
Shooting from his maternal Gransire, flew,
And cut the Winds, and Lybia's sandy Shore.—
With all his Harness soon the God was sped,
Alighted: Thence with all his Body's Force,
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Down to the Ocean: Like the Bird that flies,
Low, skimming o'er the Surface, near the Sea,
Around the Shores, around the fishy Rocks:
So Mercury in Air 'twixt Earth and Heav'n,
Shooting from his maternal Gransire, flew,
And cut the Winds, and Lybia's sandy Shore.—
His flying Hat was fast'ned on his Head,
Wings on his Heels were hung, and in his Hand
He holds his snaky Sleep-producing Wand.
Then darting from the Skies, his Pinions sound,
And, in an Instant, shoot him on the Ground.—
Hermes she fir'd, as in the Clouds he hung:
So the cold Bullet, that with Fury slung,
From Balearic Engines mounts on high,
Glows in the Whirl, and burns along the Sky.
Now down to Earth he turn'd his Flight, and show'd
The Form divine, the Features of a God.
He knew their Virtue o'er a female Heart,
And yet he strives to better them by Art.
He hangs his Mantle loose, and sets to Show
The golden Edging on the Seam below:
Adjusts his flowing Curls, and in his Hand
Waves with an Air, the Sleep-commanding Wand:
The glitt'ring Sandals to his Feet applies,
And to each Heel the well-trim'd Pinion tyes.—
Hermes obeys, and to his Feet applies
Those golden Wings that cut the yielding Skies:
His ample Hat his beamy Locks o'er-spread,
And veil'd the starry Glories of his Head:
He seiz'd his Wand, that causes Sleep to fly,
Or in soft Slumbers seals the wakeful Eye:
That drives the Dead to dark Tartarean Coasts,
Or back to Life compels the wand'ring Ghosts.
Thus, thro' the parting Clouds the Son of May,
Wings on the whistling Winds his rapid Way:
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Now springs aloft, and tow'rs th' etherial Height:
Then wheeling down the Steep of Heav'n he flies,
And draws a radiant Circle o'er the Skies.—
Now Maia's Son
he cites: with ready Speed
The God obeys, his Wings adorn his Head:
He shakes the Virtue of the sleepy Wand,
And hastens to receive the high Command.
The God obeys, his Wings adorn his Head:
He shakes the Virtue of the sleepy Wand,
And hastens to receive the high Command.
Offspring of Atlas, and my Nephew dear,
Of Hell and Heav'n the common Messenger:
Who canst alone appear in either Court,
Free of both Worlds, which own thy glad Resort:
Wing on the rapid Winds thy Flight above,
And bear my Message to the haughty Jove.
Of Hell and Heav'n the common Messenger:
Who canst alone appear in either Court,
Free of both Worlds, which own thy glad Resort:
Wing on the rapid Winds thy Flight above,
And bear my Message to the haughty Jove.
Scarce had he spoke, when, with dispatchful Flight,
The sacred Envoy gain'd the Realms of Light.—
The sacred Envoy gain'd the Realms of Light.—
| Medulla Poetarum Romanorum | |