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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Sailing.
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 | Medulla Poetarum Romanorum |  |
Sailing.
See Navigation. Pilot. Storm at Sea.
—He gives command with speed
To raise the Masts, with Yards to stretch the Sails:
At once they tug the Haulsers all: at once
The left Side now unfurl, and now the right:
Now this, now that way, tack at once: The Fleet
With it's own Breezes smoothly plows the Waves.
Before them all, first Palinurus leads
Th' embody'd Line: The rest commanded steer
Their Course to him.—
To raise the Masts, with Yards to stretch the Sails:
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The left Side now unfurl, and now the right:
Now this, now that way, tack at once: The Fleet
With it's own Breezes smoothly plows the Waves.
Before them all, first Palinurus leads
Th' embody'd Line: The rest commanded steer
Their Course to him.—
—Then all at once
The Trojans urge their Toil, and from the Dock
Draw their tall Ships: the new-pitch'd Gallies float.—
The Trojans urge their Toil, and from the Dock
Draw their tall Ships: the new-pitch'd Gallies float.—
—From all Parts, thou seest,
Rushing they croud the Shore; Their Sails unfurl'd
Invite the Breezes, and with joyful Haste
The shouting Mariners have crown'd their Ships.—
Rushing they croud the Shore; Their Sails unfurl'd
Invite the Breezes, and with joyful Haste
The shouting Mariners have crown'd their Ships.—
—Good Æneas then,
Soon as the Deep lay smooth, with Canvas spread
Unmoors, and leaves the Port. A Breeze at Night
Springs fresh: Nor does the silver Moon deny
Her Beams, which tremble on the glim'ring Waves.—
Soon as the Deep lay smooth, with Canvas spread
Unmoors, and leaves the Port. A Breeze at Night
Springs fresh: Nor does the silver Moon deny
Her Beams, which tremble on the glim'ring Waves.—
Neptune with Winds propitious swell'd their Sails,
And sped them safe beyond the boiling Tides.—
And sped them safe beyond the boiling Tides.—
—All at once the Winds
Lay hush'd, and ev'ry Blast: the lab'ring Oars
Cleave the smooth Marble of the yielding Deep.—
Lay hush'd, and ev'ry Blast: the lab'ring Oars
Cleave the smooth Marble of the yielding Deep.—
He spoke, and spread His Canvas to the Wind,
Unmoor'd his Boat, and left the Shore behind.
Swift flew the nimble Keel: and as they past,
Long Trails of Light the shooting Meteors cast:
Ev'n the fixt Stars above in Motion seem,
Shake thro' the Blast, and dart a quiv'ring Beam.
Black Horrors on the gloomy Ocean brood,
And in long Ridges rolls the threatning Flood:
While loud and louder murm'ring Winds arise,
And growl from ev'ry Quarter of the Skies.
When thus the trembling Master, pale with Fear,
Behold what Wrath the dreadful Gods prepare!
My Art is at a Loss: the various Tide
Beats my unstable Bark on ev'ry Side:
From the Nor-West the setting Current swells,
While Southern Storms the driving Rack foretells.
Our only means of Safety is to yield,
And measure back with Haste the foamy Field:
To reach, while yet we may, the neighb'ring Shore,
And give our unavailing Labour o'er.—
Unmoor'd his Boat, and left the Shore behind.
Swift flew the nimble Keel: and as they past,
Long Trails of Light the shooting Meteors cast:
Ev'n the fixt Stars above in Motion seem,
Shake thro' the Blast, and dart a quiv'ring Beam.
Black Horrors on the gloomy Ocean brood,
And in long Ridges rolls the threatning Flood:
While loud and louder murm'ring Winds arise,
And growl from ev'ry Quarter of the Skies.
When thus the trembling Master, pale with Fear,
Behold what Wrath the dreadful Gods prepare!
My Art is at a Loss: the various Tide
Beats my unstable Bark on ev'ry Side:
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While Southern Storms the driving Rack foretells.
Our only means of Safety is to yield,
And measure back with Haste the foamy Field:
To reach, while yet we may, the neighb'ring Shore,
And give our unavailing Labour o'er.—
| Medulla Poetarum Romanorum | |