The works Of Hesiod :: :: University of Virginia Library

The works Of Hesiod

translated From The Greek. By Mr. Cooke. The Second Edition

Cooke, Thomas (1703-1756)

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WORKS and DAYS.

THE THEOGONY, OR THE Generation of the Gods .

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Pages 70–71 are missing from the source document.

To his GRACE JOHN Duke of ARGYLL and Greenwich, &c.

WORKS and DAYS.

BOOK I.

The ARGUMENT.

This book contains the invocation to the whole, the general proposition, the story of Prometheus, Epimetheus, and Pandora, a description of the golden age, silver age, brasen age, the age of heros, and the iron age, a recommendation of virtue, from the temporal blessings with which good men are attended, and the condition of the wicked, and several moral precepts proper to be observed thro the course of our lives.

Sing, Muses, sing, from the Pierian grove;
Begin the song, and let the theme be Jove;
From him ye sprung, and him ye first should praise;
From your immortal sire deduce your lays;

To him alone, to his great will, we owe,
That we exist, and what we are, below.

Whether we blaze among the sons of fame,
Or live obscurely, and without a name,
Or noble, or ignoble, still we prove
Our lot determin'd by the will of Jove.
With ease he lifts the peasant to a crown,
With the same ease he casts the monarch down;
With ease he clouds the brightest name in night,
And calls the meanest to the fairest light;
At will he varys life thro ev'ry state,
Unnerves the strong, and makes the crooked strait.
Such Jove, who thunders terrible from high,
Who dwells in mansions far above the sky.

Look down, thou Pow'r supreme, vouchsafe thine aid,
And let my judgement be by justice sway'd;
O! hear my vows, and thine assistance bring,
While truths undoubted I to Perses sing.

As here on earth we tread the maze of life,
The mind's divided in a double strife;
One, by the wise, is thought deserving fame,
And this attended by the greatest shame,
The dismal source whence spring pernicious jars,
The baneful fountain of destructive wars,
Which, by the laws of arbitrary fate,
We follow, tho by nature taught to hate;

From night's black realms this took its odious birth
And one Jove planted in the womb of earth,
The better strife; by this the soul is fir'd
To arduous toils, nor with those toils is tir'd;
One sees his neighbour, with laborious hand,
Planting his orchard, or manuring land;
He sees another, with industrious care,
Materials for the building art prepare;
Idle himself he sees them haste to rise,
Observes their growing wealth with envious eyes,
With emulation fir'd, beholds their store,
And toils with joy, who never toil'd before:
The artist envys what the artist gains,
The bard the rival bard's successful strains.

Perses attend, my just decrees observe,
Nor from thy honest labour idly swerve;
The love of strife, that joys in evils, shun,
Nor to the forum, from thy duty, run.
How vain the wranglings of the bar to mind,
While Ceres, yellow goddess, is unkind!
But when propitious she has heap'd your store,
For others you may plead, and not before;
But let with justice your contentions prove,
And be your counsels such as come from Jove;
Not as of late, when we divided lands,
You grasp'd at all with avaritious hands;
When the corrupted bench, for bribes well known,
Unjustly granted more than was your own.
Fools, blind to truth! nor knows their erring soul
How much the half is better than the whole,

How great the pleasure wholesome herbs afford,
How bless'd the frugal, and an honest, board!
Would the immortal gods on men bestow
A mind, how few the wants of life to know,
They all the year, from labour free, might live
On what the bounty of a day would give,
They soon the rudder o'er the smoke would lay,
And let the mule, and ox, at leisure stray:

This sense to man the king of gods denys,
In wrath to him who daring rob'd the skys;
Dread ills the god prepar'd, unknown before,
And the stol'n fire back to his heav'n he bore;

But from Prometheus 'twas conceal'd in vain,
Which for the use of man he stole again,
And, artful in his fraud, brought from above,
Clos'd in a hollow cane, deceiving Jove:

Again defrauded of celestial fire,
Thus spoke the cloud-compelling god in ire:
Son of Iäpetus, o'er-subtle, go,
And glory in thy artful theft below;
Now of the fire you boast by stealth retriev'd,
And triumph in almighty Jove deceiv'd;
But thou too late shall find the triumph vain,
And read thy folly in succeeding pain;
Posterity the sad effect shall know,
When, in pursuit of joy, they grasp their woe.
He spoke, and told to Mulciber his will,
And, smiling, bade him his commands fulfil,
To use his greatest art, his nicest care,
To frame a creature exquisitely fair,
To temper well the clay with water, then
To add the vigour, and the voice, of men,
To let her first in virgin lustre shine,
In form a goddess, with a bloom divine:
And next the sire demands Minerva's aid,
In all her various skill to train the maid,
Bids her the secrets of the loom impart,
To cast a curious thread with happy art:

And golden Venus was to teach the fair,
The wiles of love, and to improve her air,
And then, in aweful majesty, to shed
A thousand graceful charms around her head:
Next Hermes, artful god, must form her mind,
One day to torture, and the next be kind,
With manners all deceitful, and her tongue
Fraught with abuse, and with detraction hung.
Jove gave the mandate; and the gods obey'd.
First Vulcan form'd of earth the blushing maid;
Minerva next perform'd the task assign'd,
With ev'ry female art adorn'd her mind.
To dress her Suada, and the Graces, join;
Around her person, lo! the di'monds shine.

To deck her brows the fair-tress'd Seasons bring
A garland breathing all the sweets of spring.
Each present Pallas gives it proper place,
And adds to ev'ry ornament a grace.
Next Hermes taught the fair the heart to move,
With all the false alluring arts of love,
Her manners all deceitful, and her tongue
With falsehoods fruitful, and detraction hung.
The finish'd maid the gods Pandora call,
Because a tribute she receiv'd from all:
And thus, 'twas Jove's command, the sex began,
A lovely mischief to the soul of man.
When the great sire of gods beheld the fair,
The fatal guile, th'inevitable snare,
Hermes he bids to Epimetheus bear.

Prometheus, mindful of his theft above,
Had warn'd his brother to beware of Jove,
To take no present that the god should send,
Lest the fair bribe should ill to man portend;
But he, forgetful, takes his evil fate,
Accepts the mischief, and repents too late.
Mortals at first a blissful earth enjoy'd,
With ills untainted, nor with cares anoy'd;
To them the world was no laborious stage,
Nor fear'd they then the miserys of age;
But soon the sad reversion they behold,
Alas! they grow in their afflictions old;
For in her hand the nymph a casket bears,
Full of diseases, and corroding cares,
Which open'd, they to taint the world begin,
And Hope alone remains entire within.

Such was the fatal present from above,
And such the will of cloud-compelling Jove:
And now unnumber'd woes o'er mortals reign,
Alike infected is the land, and main,
O'er human race distempers silent stray,
And multiply their strength by night and day;
'Twas Jove's decree they should in silence rove;
For who is able to contend with Jove!
And now the subject of my verse I change;
To tales of profit and delight I range;
Whence you may pleasure and advantage gain,
If in your mind you lay the useful strain.

Soon as the deathless gods were born, and man,
A mortal race, with voice endow'd, began,
The heav'nly pow'rs from high their work behold,
And the first age they stile an age of gold.

Men spent a life like gods in Saturn's reign,
Nor felt their mind a care, nor body pain;
From labour free they ev'ry sense enjoy;
Nor could the ills of time their peace destroy;
In banquets they delight, remov'd from care;
Nor troublesome old age intruded there:
They dy, or rather seem to dy, they seem
From hence transported in a pleasing dream.
The fields, as yet untill'd, their fruits afford,
And fill a sumptuous, and unenvy'd board:
Thus, crown'd with happyness their ev'ry day,
Serene, and joyful, pass'd their lives away.

When in the grave this race of men was lay'd,
Soon was a world of holy dæmons made,

Aërial spirits, by great Jove design'd,
To be on earth the guardians of mankind;
Invisible to mortal eyes they go,
And mark our actions, good, or bad, below;
Th'immortal spys with watchful care preside,
And thrice ten thousand round their charges glide:
They can reward with glory, or with gold;
A pow'r they by divine permission hold.

Worse than the first, a second age appears,
Which the celestials call the silver years.

The golden age's virtues are no more;
Nature grows weaker than she was before;
In strength of body mortals much decay;
And human wisdom seems to fade away.
An hundred years the careful dames employ,
Before they form'd to man th'unpolish'd boy;
Who when he reach'd his bloom, his age's prime,
Found, measur'd by his joys, but short his time.
Men, prone to ill, deny'd the gods their due,
And, by their follys, made their days but few.
The altars of the bless'd neglected stand,
Without the off'rings which the laws demand;
But angry Jove in dust this people lay'd,
Because no honours to the gods they pay'd.
This second race, when clos'd their life's short span,
Was happy deem'd beyond the state of man;
Their names were grateful to their children made;
Each pay'd a rev'rence to his father's shade.

And now a third, a brasen, people rise,
Unlike the former, men of monstrous size:

Strong arms extensive from their shoulders grow,
Their limbs of equal magnitude below;
Potent in arms, and dreadful at the spear,
They live injurious, and devoid of fear:

On the crude flesh of beasts, they feed, alone,
Savage their nature, and their hearts of stone;

Their houses brass, of brass the warlike blade,
Iron was yet unknown, in brass they trade:

Furious, robust, impatient for the fight,
War is their only care, and sole delight.
To the dark shades of death this race descend,
By civil discords, an ignoble end!
Strong tho they were, death quell'd their boasted might,
And forc'd their stubborn souls to leave the light.

To these a fourth, a better, race succeeds,
Of godlike heros, fam'd for martial deeds;
Them demigods, at first, their matchless worth
Proclaim aloud, all thro the boundless earth.
These, horrid wars, their love of arms, destroy,
Some at the gates of Thebes, and some at Troy.
These for the brothers fell, detested strife!
For beauty those, the lovely Greecian wife!

To these does Jove a second life ordain,
Some happy soil far in the distant main,
Where live the hero-shades in rich repast,
Remote from mortals of a vulgar cast:
There in the islands of the bless'd they find,
Where Saturn reigns, an endless calm of mind;

And there the choicest fruits adorn the fields,
And thrice the fertile year a harvest yields.

O! would I had my hours of life began
Before this fifth, this sinful, race of man;
Or had I not been call'd to breathe the day,
Till the rough iron age had pass'd away!
For now, the times are such, the gods ordain,
That ev'ry moment shall be wing'd with pain;
Condemn'd to sorrows, and to toil, we live;
Rest to our labour death alone can give;
And yet, amid the cares our lives anoy,
The gods will grant some intervals of joy:
But how degen'rate is the human state!
Virtue no more distinguishes the great;
No safe reception shall the stranger find;
Nor shall the tys of blood, or friendship, bind;
Nor shall the parent, when his sons are nigh,
Look with the fondness of a parent's eye,

Nor to the sire the son obedience pay,
Nor look with rev'rence on the locks of grey,
But, o! regardless of the pow'rs divine,
With bitter taunts shall load his life's decline.
Revenge and rapine shall respect command,
The pious, just, and good, neglected stand.
The wicked shall the better man distress,
The righteous suffer, and without redress;
Strict honesty, and naked truth, shall fail,
The perjur'd villain, in his arts, prevail.
Hoarse envy shall, unseen, exert her voice,
Attend the wretched, and in ill rejoice.
At last fair Modesty and Justice fly,
Rob'd their pure limbs in white, and gain the sky;
From the wide earth they reach the bless'd abodes,
And join the grand assembly of the gods,
While mortal men, abandon'd to their grief,
Sink in their sorrows, hopeless of relief.

While now my fable from the birds I bring,
To the great rulers of the earth I sing.
High in the clouds a mighty bird of prey
Bore a melodious nightingale away;

And to the captive, shiv'ring in despair,
Thus, cruel, spoke the tyrant of the air.
Why mourns the wretch in my superior pow'r?
Thy voice avails not in the ravish'd hour;
Vain are thy crys; at my despotic will,
Or I can set thee free, or I can kill.
Unwisely who provokes his abler foe,
Conquest still flys him, and he strives for woe.
Thus spoke th'enslaver with insulting pride.

O! Perses, Justice ever be thy guide;
May malice never gain upon thy will,
Malice that makes the wretch more wretched still.
The good man, injur'd, to revenge is slow,
To him the vengeance is the greater woe.
Ever will all injurious courses fail,
And justice ever over wrongs prevail;
Right will take place at last, by fit degrees;
This truth the fool by sad experience sees.
When suits commence, dishonest strife the cause,
Faith violated, and the breach of laws,
Ensue; the crys of justice haunt the judge,
Of bribes the glutton, and of sin the drudge.
Thro citys then the holy dæmon runs,
Unseen, and mourns the manners of their sons,
Dispersing evils, to reward the crimes
Of those who banish justice from the times.
Is there a man whom incorrupt we call,
Who sits alike unprejudic'd to all,

By him the city flourishes in peace,
Her borders lengthen, and her sons increase;
From him far-seeing Jove will drive afar
All civil discord, and the rage of war.
No days of famine to the righteous fall,
But all is plenty, and delightful all;
Nature indulgent o'er their land is seen,
With oaks high tow'ring are their mountains green,
With heavy mast their arms diffusive bow,
While from their truncs rich streams of honey flow;
Of flocks untainted are their pastures full,
Which slowly strut beneath their weight of wool;
And sons are born the likeness of their sire,
The fruits of virtue, and a chast desire:
O'er the wide seas for wealth they need not roam,
Many, and lasting, are their joys at home.
Not thus the wicked, who in ill delight,
Whose dayly acts pervert the rules of right;
To these the wise disposer, Jove, ordains
Repeated losses, and a world of pains:
Famines and plagues are, unexpected, nigh;
Their wives are barren, and their kindred dy;

Numbers of these at once are sweep'd away;
And ships of wealth become the ocean's prey.
One sinner oft' provokes th'avenger's hand;
And often one man's crimes destroy a land.
Exactly mark, ye rulers of mankind,
The ways of truth, nor be to justice blind;
Consider, all ye do, and all ye say,
The holy dæmons to their god convey,
Aërial spirits, by great Jove design'd,
To be on earth the guardians of mankind;

Invisible to mortal eyes they go,
And mark our actions, good, or bad, below;
Th'immortal spys with watchful care preside,
And thrice ten thousand round their charges glide.
Justice, unspoted maid, deriv'd from Jove,
Renown'd, and reverenc'd by the gods above,
When mortals violate her sacred laws,
When judges hear the bribe, and not the cause,
Close by her parent god behold her stand,
And urge the punishment their sins demand.

Look in your Breasts, and there survey your crimes,
Think, o! ye judges, and reform betimes,
Forget the pass'd, nor more false judgements give,
Turn from your ways betimes, o! turn and live.
Who, full of wiles, his neighbour's harm contrives,
False to himself, against himself he strives;
For he that harbours evil in his mind
Will from his evil thoughts but evil find;
And lo! the eye of Jove, that all things knows,
Can, when he will, the heart of man disclose;
Open the guilty bosom all within,
And trace the infant thoughts of future sin.

O! when I hear the upright man complain,
And, by his jnjurys, the judge arraign,

If to be wicked is to find success,
I cry, and to be just to meet distress,
May I nor mine the righteous path pursue,
But int'rest only ever keep in view:
But, by reflection better taught, I find
We see the present, to the future blind.
Trust to the will of Jove, and wait the end,
And good shall always your good acts attend.

These doctrines, Perses, treasure in thy heart,
And never from the paths of justice part:
Never by brutal violence be sway'd;
But be the will of Jove in these obey'd.

In these the brute creation men exceed,
They, void of reason, by each other bleed,
While man by justice should be keep'd in awe;
Justice of nature, well ordain'd, the law.
Who right espouses thro a righteous love,
Shall meet the bounty of the hands of Jove;

But he that will not be by laws confin'd,
Whom not the sacrament of oaths can bind,
Who, with a willing soul, can justice leave,
A wound immortal shall that man receive;
His house's honour dayly shall decline:
Fair flourish shall the just from line to line.

O! Perses, foolish Perses, bow thine ear
To the good counsels of a soul sincere.
To wickedness the road is quickly found,
Short is the way, and on an easy ground.
The paths of virtue must be reach'd by toil,
Arduous, and long, and on a rugged soil,
Thorny the gate, but when the top you gain,
Fair is the future, and the prospect plain.
Far does the man all other men excel,
Who, from his wisdom, thinks in all things well,
Wisely consid'ring, to himself a friend,
All for the present best, and for the end;

Nor is the man without his share of praise,
Who well the dictates of the wise obeys;
But he that is not wise himself, nor can
Harken to wisdom, is a useless man.

Ever observe, Perses, of birth divine,
My precepts, and the profit shall be thine;
Then famine always shall avoid thy door,
And Ceres, fair-wreath'd goddess, bless thy store.
The slothful wretch, who lives from labour free,
Like drones, the robbers of the painful bee,
Has always men, and gods, alike his foes;
Him famine follows with her train of woes.
With chearful zeal your mod'rate toils pursue,
That your full barns you may in season view.
The man industrious stranger is to need,
A thousand flocks his fertile pastures feed;
As with the drone with him it will not prove,
Him men and gods behold with eyes of love.
To care and labour think it no disgrace,
False pride! the portion of the sluggard race:
The slothful man, who never work'd before,
Shall gaze with envy on thy growing store,

Like thee to flourish, he will spare no pains;
For lo! the rich virtue and glory gains.

Strictly observe the wholesome rules I give,
And, bless'd in all, thou like a god shalt live.
Ne'er to thy neighbour's goods extend thy cares,
Nor be neglectful of thine own affairs.
Let no degen'rate shame debase thy mind,
Shame that is never to the needy kind;
The man that has it will continue poor;
He must be bold that would enlarge his store:
But ravish not, depending on thy might,
Injurious to thy-self, another's right.
Who, or by open force, or secret stealth,
Or perjur'd wiles, amasses heaps of wealth,
Such many are, whom thirst of gain betrays,
The gods, all seeing, shall o'ercloud his days;
His wife, his children, and his friends, shall dy,
And, like a dream, his ill-got riches fly:
Nor less, or to insult the supplyant's crys,
The guilt, or break thro hospitable tys.
Is there who, by incestuous passion led,
Pollutes with joys unclean his brother's bed,

Or who, regardless of his tender trust,
To the poor helpless orphan proves unjust,
Or, when the father's fatal day appears,
His body bending thro the weight of years,
A son who views him with unduteous eyes,
And words of comfort to his age denys,
Great Jove vindictive sees the impious train,
And, equal to their crimes, inflicts a pain.

These precepts be thy guide thro life to steer:
Next learn the gods immortal to revere:
With unpolluted hands, and heart sincere,
Let from your herd, or flock, an off'ring rise;
Of the pure victim burn the white fat thighs;
And to your wealth confine the sacrifice.

Let the rich fumes of od'rous incense fly,
A grateful favour, to the pow'rs on high;
The due libation nor neglect to pay,
When ev'ning closes, or when dawns the day:
Then shall thy work, the gods thy friends, succeed;
Then may you purchase farms, nor fell thro need.

Enjoy thy riches with a lib'ral soul,
Plenteous the feast, and smiling be the bowl;
No friend forget, nor entertain thy foe,
Nor let thy neighbour uninvited go.
Happy the man with peace his days are crown'd,
Whose house an honest neighbourhood surround;
Of foreign harms he never sleeps afraid,
They, always ready, bring their willing aid;
Chearful, should he some busy pressure feel,
They lend an aid beyond a kindred's zeal;

They never will conspire to blast his fame;
Secure he walks, unsully'd his good name:
Unhappy man, whom neighbours ill surround,
His oxen dy oft' by a treach'rous wound.
Whate'er you borrow of your neighbour's store,
Return the same in weight, if able, more;
So to your self will you secure a friend;
He never after will refuse to lend.
Whatever by dishonest means you gain,
You purchase an equivalent of pain.

To all a love for love return: contend
In virtuous acts to emulate your friend.
Be to the good thy favours unconfin'd;
Neglect a sordid, and ingrateful, mind.
From all the gen'rous a respect command,
While none regard the base ungiving hand:
The man who gives from an unbounded breast,
Tho large the bounty, in himself is bless'd:
Who ravishes another's right shall find,
Tho small the prey, a deadly sting behind.
Content, and honestly, enjoy your lot,
And often add to that already got;
From little oft' repeated much will rise,
And, of thy toil the fruits, salute thine eyes.
How sweet at home to have what life demands,
The just reward of our industrious hands,
To view our neighbour's bliss without desire,
To dread not famine, with her aspect dire!
Be these thy thoughts, to these thy heart incline,
And lo! these blessings shall be surely thine.

When at your board your faithful friend you greet,
Without reserve, and lib'ral, be the treat:
To stint the wine a frugal husband shows,
When from the middle of the cask it flows.

Do not, by mirth betray'd, your brother trust,
Without a witness, he may prove unjust:
Alike it is unsafe for men to be,
With some too diffident, with some too free.

Let not a woman steal your heart away,
By tender looks, and her apparel gay;
When your abode she languishing enquires,
Command your heart, and quench the kindling fires;
If love she vows, 'tis madness to believe,
Turn from the thief, she charms but to deceive:
Who does too rashly in a woman trust,
Too late will find the wanton prove unjust.
Take a chast matron, partner of your breast,
Contented live, of her alone possess'd;
Then shall you number many days in peace;
And with your children see your wealth increase;

Then shall a duteous careful heir survive,
To keep the honour of the house alive.

If large possessions are, in life, thy view,
These precepts, with assiduous care, pursue.

The end of the first BOOK.

BOOK II.

The ARGUMENT.

In this book the poet instructs his countrymen in the arts of agriculture, and navigation, and in the management of the vintage: he illustrates the work with rural descriptions, and concludes with several religious precepts, founded on the custom and manners of his age.

When the Pleïades, of Atlas born,
Before the sun's arise illume the morn,
Apply the sickle to the ripen'd corn;
And when, attendant on the sun's decline,
They in the ev'ning æther only shine,

Then is the season to begin to plow,
To yoke the oxen, and prepare to sow:
There is a time when forty days they ly,
And forty nights, conceal'd from human eye,
But in the courfe of the revolving year,
When the swain sharps the scythe, again appear.
This is the rule to the laborious swain,
Who dwells or near, or distant from, the main,
Whether the shady vale receives his toil,
And he manures the fat, the inland, soil.

Would you the fruits of all your labours see,
Or plow, or sow, or reap, still naked be;
Then shall thy barns, by Ceres bless'd, appear
Full of the various produce of the year;

Nor shall the seasons then behold thee poor,
A mean dependant on another's store.
Tho, foolish Perses, bending to thy pray'rs,
I lately hear'd thy plaints, and eas'd thy cares,
On me no longer for supplys depend,
For I no more shall give, no more shall lend.
Labour industrious, if you would succeed;
That men should labour have the gods decreed,
That with our wives and children we may live,
Without th'assistance that our neighbours give,
That we may never know the pain of mind,
To ask for succour, and no succour find:
Twice, thrice, perhaps, they may your wants supply;
But constant beggars teach them to deny;
Then wretched may you beg, and beg again,
And use the moving force of words in vain.
Such ills to shun, my counsels lay to heart;
Nor dread the debtor's chain, nor hunger's smart.

A house, and yoke of oxen, first provide,
A maid to guard your herds, and then a bride;

The house be furnish'd as thy need demands,
Nor want to borrow from a neighbour's hands.
While to support your wants abroad you roam,
Time glides away, and work stands still at home.
Your bus'ness ne'er defer from day to day,
Sorrows and poverty attend delay;
But lo! the careful man shall always find
Encrease of wealth according to his mind.

When the hot season of the year is o'er
That draws the toilsome sweat from ev'ry pore,
When o'er our heads th'abated planet rolls
A shorter course, and visits distant poles,
When Jove descends in show'rs upon the plains,
And the parch'd earth is cheer'd with plenteous rains,
When human bodys feel the grateful change,
And less a burden to themselves they range,
When the tall forest sheds her foliage round,
And with autumnal verdure strews the ground,
The bole is incorrupt, the timber good;
Then whet the sounding ax to fell the wood.

Provide a mortar three feet deep, and strong;
And let the pistil be three cubits long.

One foot in length next let the mallet be,
Ten spans the wain, seven feet her axeltree;
Of wood four crooked bits the wheel compose,
And give the length three spans to each of those.

From hill or field the hardest holm prepare,
To cut the part in which you place the share;
Thence your advantage will be largely found,
With that your oxen long may tear the ground;
And next, the skilful husbandman to show,
Fast pin the handle to the beam below:
Let the draught-beam of sturdy oak be made,
And for the handle rob the laurel shade;
Or, if the laurel you refuse to fell,
Seek out the elm, the elm will serve as well.
Two plows are needful; one let art bestow,
And one let nature to the service bow;

If use, or accident, the first destroy,
Its fellow in the furrow'd field employ.

Yoke from the herd two sturdy males, whose age
Mature secures them from each other's rage;
For if too young they will unruly grow,
Unfinish'd leave the work, and break the plow:
These, and your labour shall the better thrive,
Let a good plowman, year'd to forty, drive;
And see the careful husbandman be fed
With plenteous morsels, and of wholesome bread:
The slave, who numbers fewer days, you'll find
Careless of work, and of a rambling mind;
Perhaps, neglectful to direct the plow,
He in one furrow twice the seed will sow.

Observe the crane's departing flight in time,
Who yearly soars to seek a southern clime,
Conscious of cold; when the shrill voice you hear,
Know the fit season for the plow is near;
Then he for whom no oxen graze the plains,
With aking heart, beholds the winter rains;

Be mindful then the sturdy ox to feed,
And careful keep within the useful breed.
You say, perhaps, you will intreat a friend
A yoke of oxen, and a plow, to lend:
He your request, if wise, will thus refuse,
I have but two, and those I want to use;
To make a plow great is th'expence and care;
All these you should, in proper time, prepare.
Reproofs like these avoid; and, to behold
Your fields bright waving with their ears of gold,
Let unimprov'd no hour, in season, fly,
But with your servants plow, or wet, or dry;
And in the spring again to turn the soil
Observe; the summer shall reward your toil.
While light and fresh the glebe insert the grain;
Then shall your children smile, nor you complain.

Prefer with zeal, when you begin to plow,
To Jove terrene, and Ceres chast, the vow;

Then will the rural deitys regard
Your welfare, and your piety reward.
Forget not, when you sow the grain, to mind
That a boy follows with a rake behind;
And strictly charge him, as you drive, with care,
The seed to cover, and the birds to scare.
Thro ev'ry task, with diligence, employ
Your strength; and in that duty be your joy;

And, to avoid of life the greatest ill,
Never may sloth prevail upon thy will:
(Bless'd who with order their affairs dispose!
But rude confusion is the source of woes!)
Then shall you see, Olympian Jove your friend,
With pond'rous grain the yellow harvest bend;
Then of Arachne's web the vessels clear,
To hoard the produce of the fertile year.
Think then, o! think, how pleasant will it be,
At home an annual support to see,
To view with friendly eyes your neighbour's store,
And to be able to relieve the poor.

Learn now what seasons for the plow to shun:
Beneath the tropic of the winter's sun

Be well observant not to turn the ground,
For small advantage will from thence be found:
How will you sigh when thin your crop appears,
And the short stalks support the dusty ears!
Your scanty harvest then, in baskets press'd,
Will, by your folly, be your neighbour's jest:
Sometimes indeed it otherwise may be;
But who th'effect of a bad cause can see?
If late you to the plowman's task accede,
The symptoms these the later plow must speed.
When first the cuckoo from the oak you hear,
In welcome sounds, foretel the spring-time near,
If Jove, the plowman's friend, upon the plains,
Three days and nights, descends in constant rains,
Till on the surface of the glebe the tide
Rise to that height the ox's hoof may hide,
Then may you hope your store of golden grain
Shall equal his who earlyer turn'd the plain.
Observe, with care, the precepts I impart,
And may they never wander from thy heart;

Then shall you know the show'rs what seasons bring,
And what the bus'ness of the painted spring.

In that bleak, and dead, season of the year,
When naked all the woods, and fields, appear,
When nature lazy for a while remains,
And the blood almost freezes in the veins,
Avoid the public forge where wretches fly
Th'inclement rigour of the winter sky:

Thither behold the slothful vermin stray,
And there in idle talk consume the day;
Half-starv'd they sit, in evil consult join'd,
And, indolent, with hope buoy up their mind;
Hope that is never to the hungry kind!
Labour in season to encrease thy store,
And never let the winter find thee poor:
Thy servants all employ till summer's pass'd,
For tell them summer will not always last.

The month all hurtful to the lab'ring kine,
In part devoted to the god of wine,

Demands your utmost care; when raging forth,
O'er the wide seas, the tyrant of the north,
Bellowing thro Thrace, tears up the lofty woods,
Hardens the earth, and binds the rapid floods.
The mountain oak, high tow'ring to the skys,,
Torn from his root across the valley lys;
Wide spreading ruin threatens all the shore,
Loud groans the earth, and all the forests roar:
And now the beast amaz'd, from him that reigns
Lord of the woods to those which graze the plains,
Shiv'ring the piercing blast, affrighted, flys,
And guards his tender tail betwixt his thighs.
Now nought avails the roughness of the bear,
The ox's hide, nor the goat's length of hair,
Rich in their fleece, alone the well cloath'd fold
Dread not the blust'ring wind, nor fear the cold.
The man, who could erect support his age,
Now bends reluctant to the north-wind's rage:
From accidents like these the tender maid,
Free and secure, of storms nor winds afraid,

Lives, nurtur'd chast beneath her mother's Eye,
Unhurt, unsully'd, by the winter's sky;
Or now to bathe her lovely limbs she goes,
Now round the fair the fragrant ointment flows;
Beneath the virtuous roof she spends the nights,
Stranger to golden Venus, and her rites.
Now does the boneless Polypus, in rage,
Feed on his feet, his hunger to asswage;
The sun no more, bright shining in the day,
Directs him in the flood to find his prey;
O'er swarthy nations while he fiercely gleams,
Greece feels the pow'r but of his fainter beams.
Now all things have a diff'rent face below;
The beasts now shiver at the falling snow;
Thro woods, and thro the shady vale, they run
To various haunts, the pinching cold to shun;
Some to the thicket of the forest flock,
And some, for shelter, seek the hollow rock.

A winter garment now demands your care,
To guard the body from th'inclement air;
Soft be the inward vest, the outward strong,
And large to wrap you warm, down reaching long:
Thin lay your warf, when you the loom prepare,
And close to weave the woof no labour spare.
The rigour of the day a man defys,
Thus cloath'd; nor sees his hairs like bristles rise.
Next for your feet the well hair'd shoes provide,
Hairy within, of a sound ox's hide.
A kid's soft skin over your shoulders throw,
Unhurt to keep you from the rain or snow;
And for your head a well made cov'ring get,
To keep your ears safe from the cold and wet.

When o'er the plains the north exerts his sway,
From his sharp blasts piercing begins the day;
Then from the sky the morning dews descend,
And fruitful o'er the happy lands extend.
The waters by the winds convey'd on high,
From living streams, in early dew-drops ly
Bright on the grass; but if the north-wind swells,
With rage, and thick and sable clouds compels,
They fall in ev'ning storms upon the plain:
And now from ev'ry part, the lab'ring swain
Foresees the danger of the coming rain;
Leaving his work, panting behold him scow'r
Homeward, incessant to outrun the show'r.
This month commands your care, of all the year,
Alike to man and beast, the most severe:
The ox's provender be stinted now;
But plenteous meals the husbandman allow;

For the long nights but tedious pass away.
These rules observe while night succeeds the day,
Long as our common parent, earth shall bring
Her various offsprings forth to grace the spring.

When, from the tropic of the winter's sun,
Thrice twenty days and nights their course have run,
And when Arcturus leaves the main to rise
A star, bright shining in the ev'ning skys,
Then prune the vine: 'tis dang'rous to delay
Till with complaints the swallow breaks the day.

When with their domes the slow-pac'd snails retreat,
Beneath some foliage, from the burning heat
Of the Pleïades, your tools prepare;
The ripen'd harvest then demands your care.
Now fly the jocund shades, your morning sleep,
And constant to their work your servants keep;
All other pleasures to your duty yield;
The harvest calls, haste early to the field.
The morning workman always best succeeds;
The morn the reaper, and the trav'ler, speeds:
But when the thistle wide begins to spread,
And rears in triumph his offensive head,

When in the shady boughs, with quiv'ring wings,
The grashopper all day continual sings,

The season when the dog resumes his reign,
Weakens the nerves of man and burns the brain,

Then the fat flesh of goats is wholesome food,
And to the heart the gen'rous wine is good;

Then nature thro the softer sex does move,
And stimulates the fair to acts of love:
Then in the shade avoid the mid-day sun,
Where zephyrs breathe, and living fountains run;
There pass the sultry hours, with friends, away,
And frolic out, in harmless mirth, the day;
With country cates your homely table spread,
The goat's new milk, and cakes of milk your bread;
The flesh of beeves, which brouse the trees, your meat;
Nor spare the tender flesh of kids to eat;
With Byblian wine the rural feast be crown'd;
Three parts of water, let the bowl go round.

Forget not, when Orion first appears,
To make your servants thresh the sacred ears;
Upon the level floor the harvest lay,
Where a soft gale may blow the chaff away;
Then, of your labour to compute the gain,
Before you fill the vessels, mete the grain.
Sweep up the chaff, to make your work compleat;
The chaff, and straw, the ox and mule will eat.
When in the year's provision you have lay'd,
Take home a single man, and servant-maid;
Among your workmen let this care be shown
To one who has no mansion of his own.
Be sure a sharp-tooth'd cur well fed to keep,
Your house's guard, while you in safety sleep.
The harvest pass'd, and thus by Ceres bless'd,
Unyoke the beast, and give your servants rest.

Orion and the Dog, each other nigh,
Together mounted to the midmost sky,
When in the rosy morn Arcturus shines,
Then pluck the clusters from the parent vines;
Forget not next the ripen'd grapes to lay
Ten nights in air, nor take them in by day;
Five more remember, 'e're the wine is made,
To let them ly, to mellow in the shade;
And in the sixth briskly yourself employ,
To cask the gift of Bacchus, fire of joy.
Next, in the round, do not to plow forget,
When the seven virgins, and Orion, set:
Thus an advantage always shall appear,
In ev'ry labour of the various year.

If o'er your mind prevails the love of gain,
And tempts you to the dangers of the main,

Yet in her harbour safe the vessel keep,
When strong Orion chaces to the deep
The virgin stars; then the winds war aloud,
And veil the ocean with a sable cloud:
Then round the bark, already haul'd on shore,
Lay stones, to fix her when the tempests roar;
But first forget not well the keel to drain;
And draw the pin to save her from the rain.
Furl the ship's wings, her tackling home convey,
And o'er the smoke the well made rudder lay.
With patience wait for a propitious gale,
And a calm season to unfurl the sail;
Then launch the swift wing'd vessel on the main,
With a fit burden to return with gain.
So our poor father toil'd his hours away,
Careful to live in the unhappy day;
He, foolish Perses, spent no time in vain,
But fled misfortunes thro the wat'ry plain;
He, from Æolian Cuma, th'ocean pass'd,
Here, in his sable bark, arriv'd at last. [OMITTED]

Which to the sacred Heliconian nine
I offer'd grateful for their gift divine,
Where with the love of verse I first was fir'd,
Where by the heav'nly maids I was inspir'd;
To them I owe, to them alone I owe,
What of the seas, or of the stars, I know;
Mine is the pow'r to tell, by them reveal'd,
The will of Jove, tremendous with his shield;
To them, who taught me first, to them belong
The blooming honours of th'immortal song.

When, from the tropic of the summer's sun,
Full fifty days and nights their course have run,
Fearless of danger, for the voy'ge prepare,
Smooth is the ocean, and serene the air:
Then you the bark, safe with her freight, may view,
And gladsome as the day the joyful crew,
Unless great Jove, the king of gods, or he,
Neptune, that shakes the earth, and rules the sea,
The two immortal pow'rs on whom the end
Of mortals, good and bad, alike depend,

Should jointly, or alone, their force employ,
And, in a luckless hour, the ship destroy:
If, free from such mischance, the vessel flys,
O'er a calm sea, beneath indulgent skys,
Let nothing long thee from thy home detain,
But measure, quickly, measure back the main.
Haste your return before the vintage pass'd,
Prevent th'autumnal show'rs, and southern blast,
Or you, too late a penitent, will find
A ruffel'd ocean, and unfriendly wind.
Others there are who chuse to hoist the sail,
And plow the sea, before a spring-tide gale,
When first the footsteps of the crow are seen,
Clearly as on the trees the buding green:
But then, may my advice prevail, you'll keep
Your vessel safe at land, nor trust the deep;
Many, surprising weakness of the mind,
Tempt all the perils of the sea and wind,
Face death in all the terrors of the main,
Seeking, the soul of wretched mortals, gain.
Would'st thou be safe, my cautions be thy guide;
'Tis sad to perish in the boystrous tide.
When for the voy'ge your vessel leaves the shore,
Trust in her hollow sides not half your store;
The less your loss should she return no more:
With all your stock how dismal would it be
To have the cargo perish in the sea!

A load, you know, too pond'rous for the wain,
Will crush the axeltree, and spoil the grain.
Let ev'ry action prove a mean confess'd;
A moderation is, in all, the best.

Next to my counsels an attention pay,
To form your judgement for the nuptial day.
When you have number'd thrice ten years in time,
The age mature when manhood dates his prime,
With caution choose the partner of your bed:
Whom fifteen springs have crown'd, a virgin wed.
Let prudence now direct your choice; a wife
Is or a blessing, or a curse, in life;
Her father, mother, know, relations, friends,
For on her education much depends:
If all are good accept the maiden bride;
Then form her manners, and her actions guide:

A life of bliss succeeds the happy choice;
Nor shall your friends lament, nor foes rejoice.
Wretched the man condemn'd to drag the chain,
What restless ev'nings his, what days of pain!
Of a luxurious mate, a wanton dame,
That ever burns with an insatiate flame,
A wife who seeks to revel out the nights
In sumptuous banquets, and in stol'n delights:
Ah! wretched mortal! tho in body strong,
Thy constitution cannot serve thee long;
Old age vexatious shall o'ertake thee soon;
Thine is the ev'n of life before the noon.

Observe in all you do, and all you say,
Regard to the immortal gods to pay.

First in your friendship let your brother stand,
So nearly join'd in blood, the strictest band;
Or should another be your heart's ally,
Let not a fault of thine dissolve the ty;
Nor e'er debase the friendship with a ly.
Should he, offensive, or in deed, or speech,
First in the sacred union make the breach,
To punish him may your resentments tend;
For who more guilty than a faithless friend!
But if, repentant of his breach of trust,
The self-accuser thinks your vengeance just,
And humbly begs you would no more complain,
Sink your resentments, and be friends again;

Or the poor wretch, all sorrowful to part,
Sighs for another friend to ease his heart.

Whatever rage your boiling heart sustains,
Let not the face disclose your inward pains.

Be your companions o'er the social bowl
The few selected, each a virtuous soul.

Never a friend among the wicked go,
Nor ever join to be the good man's foe.

When you behold a man by fortune poor,
Let him not leave with sharp rebukes the door:
The treasure of the tongue, in ev'ry cause,
With moderation us'd, obtains applause:
What of another you severely say
May amply be return'd another day.

When you are summon'd to the public feast,
Go with a willing mind a ready guest;
Grudge not the charge, the burden is but small;
Good is the custom, and it pleases all.

When the libation of black wine you bring,
A morning off'ring to the heav'nly king,

With hands unclean if you prefer the pray'r,
Jove is incens'd, your vows are loss'd in air;
So all th'immortal pow'rs on whom we call,
If with polluted hands, are deaf to all.

When you would have your urine pass away,
Stand not upright before the eye of day;
And scatter not your water as you go;
Nor let it, when you're naked, from you flow:
In either case 'tis an unseemly sight:
The gods observe alike by day and night:
The man that we devout and wise may call
Sits in that act, or streams against a wall.

Whate'er you do in amorous delight,
Be all transacted in the veil of night;
And when, transported, to your wife's embrace
You haste, pollute no consecrated place;

Nor seek to taste her beautys when you part
From a sad fun'ral with a heavy heart:
When from the joyous feast you come all gay,
In her fair arms revel the night away.

When to the rivulet to bathe you go,
Whose lucid currents, never ceasing, flow,
'E're, to deface the stream, you leave the land,
With the pure limpid waters cleanse each hand;
Then on the lovely surface fix your look,
And supplicate the guardians of the brook:
Who in the river thinks himself secure,
With malice at his heart, and hands impure,
Too late a penitent, shall find, 'e're-long,
By what the gods inflict, his rashness wrong.

When to the gods your solemn vows you pay,
Strictly attend while at the feast you stay;
Nor the black iron to your hands apply,
From the fresh parts to pare the useless dry.

The bowl, from which you the libation pour
To heav'n, profane not in the social hour:
Who things devote to vulgar use employ,
Those men some dreadful vengeance shall destroy.

Never begin to build a mansion seat,
Unless you're sure to make the work compleat;
Lest, on th'unfinish'd roof high perch'd, the crow
Croak horrid, and foretel approaching woe.

'Tis hurtful in the footed jar to eat,
Till purify'd: nor in it bathe your feet.

Who in a slothful way his children rears,
Will see them feeble in their riper years.

Never by acts effeminate disgrace
Yourself, nor bathe your body in the place
Where women bathe; for time and custom can
Soften your heart to acts beneath a man.

When on the sacred rites you fix your eyes,
Deride not, in your breast, the sacrifice;
For know, the god, to whom the flames aspire,
May punish you severely in his ire.

Sacred the fountains, and the seas, esteem,
Nor by indecent acts pollute their stream.

These precepts keep, fond of a virtuous name,
And shun the loud reports of evil fame:

Fame is an ill you may with ease obtain,
A sad oppression to be borne with pain;
And when you would the noisy clamours drown,
You'll find it hard to lay your burden down:
Fame, of whatever kind, not wholly dys,
A goddess she, and strengthens as she flys.

The end of the second BOOK.

BOOK III.

The ARGUMENT.

The poet here distinguishes holy days from other, and what are propitious, and what not, for different works, and concludes with a short recommendation of religion and morality.

Your servants to a just observance train
Of days, as Heav'n and human rites ordain;
Great Jove, with wisdom, o'er the year presides,
Directs the seasons, and the moments guides.

Of ev'ry month, the most propitious day,
The thirtyth choose, your labours to survey;
And the due wages to your servants pay.
The first of ev'ry moon we sacred deem,
Alike the fourth throughout the year esteem;
And in the seventh Apollo we adore,
In which the golden god Latona bore;
Two days succeeding these extend your cares,
Uninterrupted, in your own affairs;

Nor in the next two days, but one, delay
The work in hand, the bus'ness of the day,
Of which th'eleventh we propitious hold
To reap the corn, the twelfth to sheer the fold;
And then behold, with her industrious train,
The ant, wise reptile, gather in the grain;
Then you may see, suspended in the air,
The careful spider his domain prepare,
And while the artist spins the cobweb dome
The matron chearful plys the loom at home.
Forget not in the thirteenth to refrain
From sowing, left your work should prove in vain;
Tho then the grain may find a barren soil,
The day is grateful to the planter's toil:
Not so the sixteenth to the planter's care;
A day unlucky to the new-born fair,
Alike unhappy to the marry'd then;
A day propitious to the birth of men:

The sixth the same both to the man and maid;
Then secret vows are made and nymphs betray'd;
The fair by soothing words are captives led;
The gossip's tale is told, detraction spread;
The kid to castrate, and the ram, we hold
Propitious now; alike to pen the fold.
Geld in the eighth the goat, and lowing steer;
Nor in the twelfth to geld the mule-colt fear.
The offspring male born in the twenty'th prize,
'Tis a great day, he shall be early wise.
Happy the man-child in the tenth day born;
Happy the virgin in the fourteenth morn;
Then train the mule obedient to your hand,
And teach the snarling cur his lord's command;
Then make the bleating flocks their master know,
And bend the horned oxen to the plow.
What in the twenty-fourth you do beware;
And the fourth day requires an equal care;
Then, then, be circumspect in all your ways,
Woes, complicated woes, attend the days.
When, resolute to change a single life,
You wed, on the fourth day lead home your wife;
But first observe the feather'd race that fly,
Remarking well the happy augury.

The fifths of ev'ry month your care require,
Days full of trouble, and afflictions dire;
For then the furys take their round, 'tis say'd,
And heap their vengeance on the perjur'd head.
In the sev'nteenth prepare the level floor;
And then of Ceres thresh the sacred store;
In the same day, and when the timber's good,
Fell, for the bedpost, and the ship, the wood.
The vessel, suff'ring by the sea and air,
Survey all o'er, and in the fourth repair.
In the nineteenth 'tis better to delay,
Till afternoon, the bus'ness of the day.
Uninterrupted in the ninth pursue
The work in hand, a day propitious thro;

Themselves the planters prosp'rous then employ;
To either sex, in birth, a day of joy.
The twentyninth is best, observe the rule,
Known but to few, to yoke the ox and mule;
'Tis proper then to yoke the flying steed;
But few, alas! these wholesome truths can read;
Then you may fill the cask, nor fill in vain;
Then draw the swift ship to the sable main.
To pierce the cask till the fourteenth delay,
Of all most sacred next the twenty'th day;
After the twenty'th day few of the rest
We sacred deem, of that the morn is best.

These are the days of which th'observance can
Bring great advantage to the race of man;
The rest unnam'd indiff'rent pass away,
And nought important marks the vulgar day:
Some one commend, and some another praise,
But most by guess, for few are wise in days:
One cruel as a stepmother we find,
And one as an indulgent mother kind.

O! happy mortal, happy he, and bless'd,
Whose wisdom here is by his acts confess'd;

Who lives all blameless to immortal eyes,
Who prudently consults the augurys,
Nor, by transgression, works his neighbour pain,
Nor ever gives him reason to complain.

127

THE THEOGONY, OR THE Generation of the Gods .

To the most honourable GEORGE Marquess of Annandale.

The ARGUMENT.

After the proposition, and invocation, the poet begins the generation of the gods. This poem, besides the genealogy of the deitys and heros, contains the story of Heaven and the conspiracy of his wife and sons against him, the story of Styx and her offsprings, of Saturn and his sons, and of Prometheus and Pandora: hence the poet proceeds to relate the war of the gods, which is the subject of above three hundred verses. The reader is often relieved, from the narrative part of the Theogony, with several beautyful descriptions, and other poetical embellishments.

Begin, my song, with the melodious nine
Of Helicon the spacious and divine;
The Muses there, a lovely choir, advance,
With tender feet to form the skilful dance,

128

Now round the sable font in order move,
Now round the altar of Saturnian Jove;
Or, if the cooling streams to bathe invite,
In thee, Permessus, they awhile delight;
Or now to Hippocrene resort the fair,
Or, Olmius, to thy sacred spring repair.

129

Veil'd in thick air, they all the night prolong,
In praise of Ægis-bearing Jove the song;
And thou, O Argive Juno, golden shod,
Art join'd in praises with thy consort god;
Thee, goddess, with the azure eyes, they sing,
Minerva, daughter of the heav'nly king;
The sisters to Apollo tune their voice,
And, Artemis, to thee whom darts rejoice;
And Neptune in the pious hymn they sound,
Who girts the earth, and shakes the solid ground;
A tribute they to Themis chast allow,
And Venus charming with the bending brow,
Nor Hebe, crown'd with gold, forget to praise,
Nor fair Dione in their holy lays;
Nor thou, Aurora, nor the Day's great light,
Remain unsung, nor the fair lamp of Night;
To thee, Latona, next the numbers range;
Iäpetus, and Saturn wont to change,

130

They chant; thee, Ocean, with an ample breast,
They sing, and Earth, and Night in sable dress'd;
Nor cease the virgins here the strain divine;
They celebrate the whole immortal line.
'E'rewhile as they the shepherd swain behold
Feeding, beneath the sacred mount, his fold,
With love of charming song his breast they fir'd;
There me the heav'nly Muses first inspir'd;
There, when the maids of Jove the silence broke,
To Hesiod thus, the shepherd swain, they spoke.

Shepherds attend, your happyness who place
In gluttony alone, the swain's disgrace;
Strict to your duty in the field you keep,
There vigilant by night to watch your sheep;
Attend ye swains on whom the Muses call,
Regard the honour not bestow'd on all;

131

'Tis our to speak the truth in language plain,
Or give the face of truth to what we feign.

So spoke the maids of Jove, the sacred nine,
And pluck'd a scepter from the tree divine,
To me the branch they gave, with look serene,
The laurel ensign, never fading green:
I took the gift with holy raptures fir'd,
My words flow sweeter, and my soul's inspir'd;
Before my eyes appears the various scene
Of all that is to come, and what has been.
Me have the Muses chose, their bard to grace,
To celebrate the bless'd immortal race;
To them the honours of my verse belong;
To them I first and last devote the song:

132

But where, O where, inchanted do I rove,
Or o'er the rocks, or thro the vocal grove!

Now with th'harmonious nine begin, whose voice
Makes their great sire, olympian Jove, rejoice;
The present, future, and the pass'd, they sing,
Join'd in sweet concert to delight their king;
Melodious and untir'd their voices flow;
Olympus echos, ever crown'd with snow.

133

The heav'nly songsters fill th'æthereal round;
Jove's palace laughs, and all the courts resound:
Soft warbling endless with their voice divine,
They celebrate the whole immortal line:
From Earth, and Heav'n, great parents, first they trace
The progeny of gods, a bounteous race;
And then to Jove again returns the song,
Of all in empire, and command, most strong;
Whose praises first and last their bosom fire,
Of mortals, and immortal gods, the sire:
Nor to the sons of men deny they praise,
To such as merit of their heav'nly lays;

134

They sing the giants of puissant arm,
And with the wond'rous tale their father charm.

Mnemosyne, in the Pierian grove,
The scene of her intrigue with mighty Jove,
The empress of Eleuther, fertile earth,
Brought to olympian Jove the Muses forth;
Bless'd offsprings, happy maids, whose pow'rful art
Can banish cares, and ease the painful heart.

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Absent from heav'n, to quench his am'rous flame,
Nine nights the god of gods compress'd the dame.
Now thrice three times the moon concludes her race,
And shews the produce of the god's embrace,
Fair daughters, pledges of immortal Jove,
In number equal to the nights of love;
Bless'd maids, by harmony of temper join'd;
And verse, their only care, employs their mind.
The virgin songsters first beheld the light
Near where Olympus rears his snowy height;
Where to the maids fair stately domes ascend,
Whose steps a constant beauteous choir attend.
Not far from hence the Graces keep their court,
And with the god of love in banquets sport;
Meanwhile the nine their heav'nly voices raise
To the immortal pow'rs, the song of praise;
They tune their voices in a sacred cause,
Their theme the manners of the gods, and laws:
When to Olympus they pursue their way,
Sweet warbling, as they go, the deathless lay,

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Meas'ring to Jove, with gentle steps, the ground,
The sable earth returns the joyful sound.
Great Jove, their sire, who rules th'æthereal plains,
Confirm'd in pow'r, of gods the monarch reigns;
His father Saturn hurl'd from his command,
He grasps the thunder with his conqu'ring hand;
He gives the bolts their vigour as they fly,
And bids the red-hot light'ning pierce the sky;
His subject deitys obey his nod,
All honours flow from him of gods the god;
From him the Muses sprung, no less their sire,
Whose attributes the heav'nly maids inspire:
Clio begins the lovely tuneful race,
Melpomene which, and Euterpe, grace,

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Terpsichore all joyful in the choir,
And Erato to love whose lays inspire;
To these Thalia and Polymnia join,
Urania, and Calliope divine,
The first, in honour, of the tuneful nine;
She the great acts of virtuous monarchs sings,
Companion only for the best of kings.
Happy of princes, foster sons of Jove,
Whom at his birth the nine with eyes of love
Behold; to honours they his days design;
He first among the scepter'd hands shall shine;
Him they adorn with ev'ry grace of song,
And soft persuasion dwells upon his tongue;
To him, their judge, the people turn their eye,
On him for justice in their cause rely,

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Reason alone his upright judgement guides,
He hears impartial, and for truth decides;
Thus he determines from a sense profound,
And of contention heals the poys'nous wound.
Wise kings, when subjects grow in faction strong,
First calm their minds, and then redress their wrong,
By their good counsels bid the tumult cease,
And sooth contending partys into peace;
His aid with duteous rev'rence they implore,
And as a god their virtuous prince adore:
From whom the Muses love such blessings flow,
To them a righteous prince the people owe.
From Jove, great origin, all monarchs spring,
From mighty Jove of kings himself the king;
From the Pierian maids, the heav'nly nine,
And from Apollo, sire of verse divine,

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Far shooting deity whose beams inspire,
The poets spring, and all who strike the lyre.
Bless'd whom with eyes of love the Muses view,
Sweet flow his words, gentle as falling dew.
Is there a man by rising woes oppress'd,
Who feels the pangs of a distracted breast,
Let but the bard, who serves the nine, rehearse
The acts of heros pass'd, the theme for verse,
Or if the praise of gods, who pass their days
In endless ease above, adorns the lays,
The pow'rful words administer relief,
And from the wounded mind expel the grief;
Such are the charms which to the bard belong,
A gift from gods deriv'd, the pow'r of song.

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Hail maids celestial, seed of heav'n's great king,
Hear, nor unaided let the poet sing,
Inspire a lovely lay, harmonious nine,
My theme th'immortal gods, a race divine,
Of Earth, of Heav'n which lamps of light adorn,
And of old sable Night, great parents, born,
And, after, nourish'd by the briny Main:
Hear goddesses, and aid the ventrous strain;
Say whence the deathless gods receiv'd their birth,
And next relate the origin of Earth,
Whence the wide sea that spreads from shore to shore,
Whose surges foam with rage, and billows roar,
Whence rivers which in various channels flow,
And whence the stars which light the world below,
And whence the wide expanse of heav'n, and whence
The gods, to mortals who their good dispense;
Say how from them our honours we receive,
And whence the pow'r that they our wants relieve,

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How they arriv'd to the æthereal plains,
And took possession of the fair domains:
With these, olympian maids, my breast inspire,
And to the end support the sacred fire,
In order all from the beginning trace,
From the first parents of the num'rous race.

Chaos, of all the origin, gave birth
First to her offspring the wide-bosom'd Earth,

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The seat secure of all the gods, who now
Possess Olympus ever cloath'd with snow;
Th'abodes of Hell from the same fountain rise,
A gloomy land that subterranean lys;
And hence does Love his antient lineage trace,
Excelling fair of all th'immortal race;
At his approach all care is chas'd away,
Nor can the wisest pow'r resist his sway;
Nor man, nor god, his mighty force restrains,
Alike in ev'ry breast the godhead reigns:
And Erebus, black son, from Chaos came,
Born with his sister Night a sable dame.

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Night bore, the produce of her am'rous play
With Erebus, the sky, and chearful day.

Earth first an equal to herself in fame
Brought forth, that covers all, the starry frame,

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The spacious Heav'n, of gods the safe domain,
Who live in endless bliss, exempt from pain;
From her the lofty Hills, and ev'ry Grove,
Where nymphs inhabit, goddesses, and rove:
Without the mutual joys of love she bore
The barren Sea, whose whit'ning billows roar.

At length the Ocean, with his pools profound,
Whose whirling streams pursue their rapid round,
Of Heav'n and Earth is born; Cœus his birth
From them derives, and Creus, sons of Earth;

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Hyperion and Japhet, brothers, join:
Thea, and Rhea, of this antient line
Descend; and Themis boasts the source divine,

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And thou Mnemosyne, and Phœbe crown'd
With gold, and Tethys for her charms renown'd:
To these successive wily Saturn came,
As sire and son in each a barb'rous name.
Three sons are sprung from Heav'n and Earth's embrace,
The Cyclops bold, in heart a haughty race,
Brontes, and Steropes, and Arges brave,
Who to the hands of Jove the thunder gave;

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They for almighty pow'r did light'ning frame,
All equal to the gods themselves in fame;
One eye was plac'd, a large round orb, and bright,
Amidst their forehead to receive the light;
Hence were they Cyclops call'd; great was their skill,
Their strength, and vigour, to perform their will.
The fruitful Earth by Heav'n conceiv'd again,
And for three mighty sons the rending pain
She suffer'd; Cottus, terrible to name,
Gyges, and Briareus, of equal fame;
Conspicuous above the rest they shin'd,
Of body strong, magnanimous of mind;
Fifty large heads their lusty shoulders bore,
And, dang'rous to approach, hands fifty more:
Of all from Heav'n, their sire, who took their birth,
These were most dreadful of the sons of Earth;
Their cruel father, from their natal hour,
With hate pursued them, to his utmost pow'r;
He from the parent womb did all convey
Into some secret cave remote from day:
The tyrant father thus his sons oppress'd,
And evil meditations fill'd his breast.
Earth deeply groan'd for these her sons confin'd,
And vengeance for their wrongs employ'd her mind;
She yields black iron from her fruitful vein,
And of it forms an instrument of pain;

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Then to her children thus, the silence broke,
Without reserve she deeply sighing spoke.

My sons, descended from a barb'rous sire,
Whose evil acts our breasts to vengeance fire,
Attentive to my friendly voice incline;
Th'aggressor he, and to revenge be thine.

The bold proposal they astonish'd hear;
Her words possess'd them with a silent fear;
Saturn, at last, whom no deceit can blind,
To her responsive thus declar'd his mind.

Matron, for us the throwing pangs who bore,
Much we have suffer'd, but will bear no more;
If such as fathers ought our will not be,
The name of father is no ty to me;
Patient of wrongs if they th'attempt decline,
Th'aggressor he, all to revenge be mine.

Earth greatly joy'd at what his words reveal'd,
And in close ambush him from all conceal'd;
Arm'd with the crooked instrument she made,
She taught him to direct the sharp-tooth'd blade.
Great Heav'n approach'd beneath the veil of Night,
Proposing from his consort, Earth, delight;
As in full length the god extended lay,
No fraud suspecting in his am'rous play,
Out rush'd his son, comploter with his wife,
His right hand grasp'd the long, the fatal, knife,
His left the channel of the seed of life,

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Which from the roots the rough-tooth'd metal tore,
And bath'd his fingers with his father's gore;
He throw'd behind the sourse of Heaven's pain;
Nor fell the ruins of the god in vain;
The sanguine drops which from the members fall
The fertile earth receives, and drinks them all:
Hence, at the end of the revolving year,
Sprung mighty Giants, pow'rful with the spear,
Shining in arms; the Furys took their birth
Hence, and the Wood-Nymphs of the spacious earth.
Saturn the parts divided from the wound,
Spoils of his parent god, cast from the ground
Into the sea; long thro the watry plain
They journey'd on the surface of the main:
Fruitful at length th'immortal substance grows,
Whit'ning it foams, and in a circle flows:
Behold a nymph arise divinely fair,
Whom to Cythera first the surges bear;
Hence is she borne safe o'er the deeps profound
To Cyprus, water'd by the waves around:
And here she walks endow'd with every grace
To charm, the goddess blooming in her face;
Her looks demand respect; and where she goes
Beneath her tender feet the herbage blows;
And Aphrodite, from the foam, her name,
Among the race of gods, and men, the same;
And Cytherea from Cythera came;

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Whence, beauteous crown'd, she safely cross'd the sea,
And call'd, o Cyprus, Cypria from thee;
Nor less by Philomedea known on earth,
A name deriv'd immediate from her birth:
Her first attendants to th'immortal choir
Were Love, the oldest god, and fair Desire:
The virgin whisper, and the tempting smile,
The sweet alurement that can hearts beguile,
Soft blandishments which never fail to move,
Friendship, and all the fond deceits in love,
Constant her steps pursue, or will she go
Among the gods above, or men below.

Great Heav'n was wrath thus by his sons to bleed,
And call'd them Titans from the barb'rous deed;
He told them all, from a prophetic mind,
The hours of his revenge were sure behind.

Now darksome Night fruitful begun to prove,
Without the knowledge of connubial love;

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From her black womb sad Destiny and Fate,
Death, Sleep, and num'rous Dreams, derive their date:
With Momus the dark goddess teems again,
And Care the mother of a doleful train;
Th'Hesperides she bore, far in the seas
Guards of the golden fruit, and fertile trees:
From the same parent sprung the rig'rous three,
The goddesses of Fate, and Destiny,
Clotho and Lachesis, whose boundless sway,
With Atropos, both men and gods obey;
To human race they, from their birth, ordain
A life of pleasure, or a life of pain;

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To slav'ry, or to empire, such their pow'r,
They fix a mortal at his natal hour;
The crimes of men, and gods, the Fates pursue,
And give to each alike the vengeance due;
Nor can the greatest their resentment fly,
They punish 'e're they lay their anger by:
And Nemesis from the same fountain rose,
From hurtful Night, herself the sourse of woes:
Hence Fraud, and loose Desire the bane of life,
Old age vexatious, and corroding Strife.

From Strife pernicious painful labour rose,
Oblivion, Famine, and tormenting Woes;
Hence Combats, Murders, Wars, and Slaughters, rise,
Deceits, and Quarrels, and injurious Lys;
Unruly License hence that knows no bounds,
And Losses spring, and sad Domestic wounds;
Hence Perjury, black Perjury, began,
A crime destructive to the race of man.

Old Nereus to the Sea was born of Earth,
Nereus who claims the precedence in birth

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To their descendants; him old god they call,
Because sincere, and affable, to all;
In judgement moderation he preserves,
And never from the paths of justice swerves.
Thaumas the great from the same parents came,
Phorcys the strong, and Ceto beauteous dame:
To the same sire did Earth Euribia bear,
As iron hard her heart, a cruel fair.

Doris to Nereus bore a lovely train,
Fifty fair daughters, wand'rers of the main;

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A beauteous mother she, of Ocean born,
Whose graceful head the comely'st locks adorn:
Proto, Eucrate, nymphs, begin the line,
Sao to whom, and Amphitrite join;
Eudore, Thetis, and Galene, grace,
With Glauce, and Cymothoe, the race;
Swift-footed Spio hence derives her birth,
With thee, Thalia, ever prone to mirth;
And Melite, charming in mien to see,
Did the same mother bear, Eulimene,
Agave too, Pasithea and thee;
From whom sprung Erato, Eunice you,
With arms appearing of a rosy hue;

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Doto and Proto join the progeny,
With them Pherusa and Dunamene;
Nisæa and Actæa boast the same,
Protomedia from the fruitful dame,
And Doris honour'd with maternal name;
And hence does Panope her lineage trace,
And Galatea with a lovely face;
And hence Hippothoe who sweetly charms,
And thou Hipponoe with thy rosy arms;
And hence Cymodoce the floods who binds,
And with Cymatolege stills the winds;
With them the pow'r does Amphitrite share,
Of all the main the lovely'st footed fair;
Cumo, Heïone, and Halimed
With a sweet garland that adorns her head,
Boast the same rise, joyful Glauconome,
Pontoporea, and Liagore;
Evagore, Laomedia, join,
And thou Polynome, the num'rous line;
Autonoe, Lysianassa, name,
Sisters descended from the fertile dame;
In the bright list Evarne fair we find,
Spotless the nymph both in her form and mind,
And Psamathe of a majestic mien;
And thou divine Menippe there art seen;
To these we Neso add, Eupompe thee,
And thee Themisto next, and Pronoe;

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Nemertes, virgin chast, compleats the race,
Not last in honour tho the last in place;
Her breast the virtues of her parent fire,
Her mind the copy of her deathless sire.
From blameless Nereus these, the fruits of joy,
And goodly offices the nymphs employ.

Of Ocean born, Electre plights her word
To Thaumas, and obeys her rightful lord;
Iris to whom, a goddess swift, she bears;
From them the Harpys, with their comely hairs,
Descend, Aëllo who pursues the wind,
And with her sister leaves the birds behind;
Ocypete the other; when they fly,
They seem with rapid wings to reach the sky.

Ceto to Phorcys bore the Graiæ, grey
From the first moment they beheld the day;

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Hence gods and men these daughters Graiæ name;
Pephredo lovely veil'd from Ceto came,
And Enyo with her saffron veil: the same

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To Phorcys bore the Gorgons, who remain
Far in the seat of Night, the distant main,

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Where, murm'ring at their task, th'Hesperides
Watch o'er the golden fruit, and fertile trees:
The number of the Gorgons once were three,
Stheno, Medusa, and Euryale;
Of which two sisters draw immortal breath,
Free from the fears of age as free from death;
But thou Medusa felt a pow'rful foe,
A mortal thou, and born to mortal woe;
Nothing avail'd of love thy blissful hours,
In a soft meadow, on a bed of flow'rs,
Thy tender dalliance with the ocean's king,
And in the beauty of the year, the spring;
You by the conqu'ring hand of Perseus bled,
Perseus whose sword lay'd low in dust thy head;
Then started out, when you began to bleed,
The great Chrysaor, and the gallant steed
Call'd Pegasus, a name not giv'n in vain,
Born near the fountains of the spacious main.

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His birth will great Chrysaor's name unfold,
When in his hand glitter'd the sword of gold;
Mounted on Pegasus he soar'd above,
And sought the palace of almighty Jove;
Loaded with light'ning thro the skys he rode,
And bore it with the thunder to the god.

Chrysaor, love the guide, Calliroe led,
Daughter of Ocean, to the genial bed;
Whence Geryon sprung, fierce with his triple head;
Whom Hercules lay'd breathless on the ground,
In Erythea which the waves surround;
His oxen lowing round their master stand,
While he falls gasping from the conqu'rer's hand:
That fatal day beheld Eurytion fall,
And with him Orthus in a gloomy stall;

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By his strong arm the dog and herdsman slain,
The hero drove the oxen cross the main;
The wide-brow'd herds he to Tirynthus bore,
And safely landed on the sacred shore.
Calliroe in a cave conceiv'd again,
And for Echidna bore maternal pain;
A monster she of an undaunted mind,
Unlike the gods, nor like the human kind;
One half a nymph of a prodigious size,
Fair her complexion, and asquint her eyes;
The other half a serpent dire to view,
Large, and voracious, and of various hue;
Deep in a Syrian rock her horrid den,
From the immortal gods remote, and men;
There, so the council of the gods ordains,
Forlorn, and ever young, the nymph remains.

In love Echidna with Typhaon join'd,
Outragious he, and blust'ring, as the wind;
Of these the offsprings prov'd a furious race;
Orthus, the produce of the first embrace,
Was vigilant to watch his master's herd,
The dog of Geryon, and a trusty guard:
Next Cerberus, the dog of Pluto, came,
Devouring, direful, of a monstrous frame;

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From fifty heads he barks with fifty tongues,
Fierce, and undaunted, with his brasen lungs:
The dreadful Hydra rose from the same bed,
In Lerna by the fair-arm'd Juno bred,
Juno, with hate implacable who strove
Against the virtues of the son of Jove;
But Hercules, with Iolaus join'd,
Amphitryon's race, and of a martial mind,
Bless'd with the counsel of the warlike maid,
Dead at his feet the horrid monster lay'd:
From the same parents sprung Chimæra dire,
From whose black nostrils issued flames of fire;
Strong, and of size immense; a monster she
Rapid in flight, astonishing to see;

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A lion's head on her large shoulders grew,
The goat's, and dragon's, terrible to view;
A lion she before in mane and throat,
Behind a dragon, in the midst a goat;
Her Pegasus the swift subdued in flight,
Back'd by Bellerophon a gallant knight.

From Orthus and Chimæra, foul embrace,
Is Sphinx deriv'd, a monster to the race

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Of Cadmus fatal: from the same dire veins
Sprung the stern ranger of Nemean plains,
The lion nourish'd by the wife of Jove,
Permited lord of Tretum's mount to rove;
Nemea he, and Apesas, commands,
Alarms the people, and destroys their lands;
In Hercules at last a foe he found,
And from his arm receiv'd a mortal wound.

Ceto and Phorcys both renew'd their flame;
From which amour a horrid Serpent came;
Who keeps, while in a spacious cave he lys,
Watchful o'er all the golden fruit his eyes.

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Tethys and Ocean, born of Heav'n, embrace,
Whence springs the Nile, and a long wat'ry race,
Alpheus, and Eridanus the strong,
That rises deep, and stately rowls along,

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Strymon, Mæander, and the Ister clear;
Nor, Phasis, are thy streams omited here;
To the same rise Rhesus his current owes,
And Achelous that like silver flows;
Hence Nessus takes his course, and Rhodius,
With Haliacmon, and Heptaporus;
To these the Granic and Æsapus join,
Hermus to these, and Simoïs divine,
Penëus, and the Caic flood that laves
The verdant margins with his beauteous waves;
The great Sangarius, and the Ladon, name,
Parthenius, and Evenus, streams of fame,
And you, Ardescus, boast the fruitful line,
And lastly you Scamender the divine.
From the same parents, fertile pair, we trace
A progeny of nymphs, a sacred race;
Who, from their birth, o'er all mankind the care
With the great king Apollo jointly share;
In this is Jove, the god of gods, obey'd,
Who grants the rivers all to lend their aid.
The nymphs from Tethys, and old Ocean, these,
Pitho, Admete, daughters of the seas,

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Ianthe, and Electra, nymphs of fame,
Doris, and Prymno, and the beauteous dame
Urania as a goddess fair in face;
Hence Hippo, and hence Clymene, we trace,
And thou, Rodia, of the num'rous race;
Zeuxo to these succeeds, Calliroe,
Clytie, Idya, and Pasithoe;
Plexaure here, and Galaxaure, join,
And lovely Dion of a lovely line;
Molobosis, and Thoe, add to these,
And charming Polydora form'd to please,
Cerces whose beautys all from nature rise,
And Pluto with her large majestic eyes;
Perseïs, Xanthe, in the list we see,
And Ianira, and Acaste thee;
Menestho, nor Europa, hence remove,
Nor Metis, nor Petræa raising love;
Crisie, and Asia, boast one antient sire,
With fair Calypso object of desire,
Telestho saffron-veil'd, Eurynome,
Eudore, Tyche, and Ocyroe,
And thou Amphiro of the source divine,
And Styx exceeding all the lovely line:
These are the sons first in the list of fame,
And daughters, which from antient Ocean came,
And fruitful Tethys, venerable dame:

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Thousands of streams which flow the spacious earth
From Tethys, and her sons, deduce their birth;
Numbers of tydes she yielded to her lord,
Too many for a mortal to record;
But they who on, or near, their borders dwell
Their virtues know, and can describe them well.

The fruits of Thia and Hyperion rise,
And with refulgent luster light the skys,
The great the glorious Sun transcending bright,
And the fair splendid Moon the lamp of night;
With them Aurora, when whose dawn appears,
Who mortal men, and gods immortal, chears.

To Creus, her espous'd, a son of Earth,
Eurybia gave the great Astræus birth;

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Perses from them, of all most skilful, came,
And Pallas first of goddesses in fame.

Aurora brought to great Astræus forth
The West, the South-wind, and the rapid North;
The morning-star fair Lucifer she bore,
And, ornaments of heav'n, ten thousand more.

From Styx, the fairest of old Ocean's line,
And Pallas, sprung a progeny divine,

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Zeal to perform, and Vict'ry in her pace
Fair-footed, Valour, Might, a glorious race!
They hold a mansion in the realms above,
Their seat is always near the throne of Jove;
Where the dread thund'ring god pursues his way,
They march, and close behind his steps obey.
This honour they by Styx their mother gain'd;
Which by her prudence she from Jove obtain'd:
When the great pow'r that e'en the gods commands,
Who sends the bolts from his almighty hands,
Summon'd th'immortals, who obey'd his call,
He thus address'd them in th'olympian hall.

Ye gods, like gods, with me who dauntless dare
To face the Titans in a dreadful war,
Above the rest in honour shall ye stand,
And ample recompence shall load your hand:
To Saturn's reign who bow'd, and unprefer'd,
Void of distinction, and without reward,
Great, and magnificently rich, shall shine,
As right requires, and suits a pow'r divine.

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First, as her father counsel'd, Styx ascends,
And her brave offsprings to the god commends;
Great Jove receiv'd her with peculiar grace,
Nor honour'd less the mother than her race;
Enrich'd with gifts she left the bright abodes,
By Jove ordain'd the solemn oath of gods;
Her children, as she wish'd, behind remain,
Constant attendants on the thund'rer's train:
Alike the god with all maintain'd his word,
And rules, in empire strong, of lords the lord.

Phœbe with fondness to her Cœus cleav'd,
And she, a goddess, by a god conceiv'd;
Latona, sable-veil'd, the produce proves,
Pleasing to all, of their connubial loves,
Sweetly engaging from her natal hour,
The most delightful in th'olympian bow'r:
From them Asteria sprung, a nymph renown'd,
And with the spousal love of Perses crown'd;

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To whom she bore Hecate, lov'd by Jove,
And honour'd by th'inhabitants above,
Profusely gifted from th'almighty hand,
With pow'r extensive o'er the sea and land,
And great the honour she by Jove's high leave,
Does from the starry vault of heav'n receive.
When to the gods the sacred flames aspire,
From human off'rings, as the laws require,
To Hecate the vows are first prefer'd;
Happy of men whose pray'rs are kindly hear'd,
Success attends his ev'ry act below,
Honour, wealth, pow'r, to him abundant flow.
The gods, who all from Earth and Heav'n descend,
On her decision for their lots depend;
Nor what the earlyest gods, the Titans, claim,
By her ordain'd, of honour or of fame,

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Has Jove revok'd by his supreme command,
For her decrees irrevocable stand:
Nor is her honour less, nor less her pow'r,
Because she only bless'd the nuptial hour;
Great is her pow'r on earth, and great her fame,
Nor less in Heav'n, and o'er the main the same,
Because Saturnian Jove reveres the dame:
The man she loves she can to greatness raise,
And grant to whom she favours public praise;
This shines for words distinguish'd at the bar;
One proudly triumphs in the spoils of war;
And she alone can speedy vict'ry give,
And rich in glory bid the conqu'rer live:
And where the venerable rulers meet
She sits supreme upon the judgement-seat:
In single tryals or of strength, or skill,
Propitious she presides o'er whom she will;
To honour she extends the beauteous crown,
And glads the parent with the son's renown,
With rapid swiftness wings the gallant steeds,
And in the race the flying courser speeds.
Who, urg'd by want, and led by hopes of gain,
Pursue their journey cross the dang'rous main,
To Hecate they all for safety bow,
And to their god and her prefer the vow.
With ease the goddess, venerable dame,
Gives to the sportsman's hand his wish'd-for game;

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Or now the weary'd creature faintly flys,
And, for a while, eludes the huntsman's eyes,
Who stretches sure to seize the panting prey,
And bear the glory of the chace away,
Till, by the kind protect'ress of the plains,
Her strength recovers, and new life she gains,
She starts, surprising, and outstrips the wind,
And leaves the masters of the chace behind.
With Mercury the watchful goddess guards
Of goats the stragling flocks, the lowing herds,
And bleating folds rich with the pond'rous fleece;
By her they lessen, and by her increase.
The only daughter of her mother born,
And her the gods with various gifts adorn:
O'er infants she, so Jove ordain'd, presides,
And the upgrowing youth to merit guides;
Great is the trust the future man to breed,
A trust to her by Saturn's son decreed.

Rhea to Saturn bore, her brother god,
Vesta and Ceres; Juno golden shod,

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And Pluto hard of heart, whose wide command
Is o'er a dark and subterranean land,
A pow'rful monarch, hence derive their birth,
With Neptune, deity who shakes the earth;
Of these great Jove, the ruler of the skys,
Of gods and men the sire, in council wise,
Is born; and him the universe adores,
And the earth trembles when his thunder roars.

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Saturn from Earth, and Heav'n adorn'd with stars,
Had learn'd the rumour of approaching wars,
Great as he was a greater should arise
To rob him of the empire of the skys,
The mighty Jove, his son, in council wise:
With dread the fatal prophecy he hear'd,
And for his regal honours greatly fear'd,
And that the dire decree might fruitless prove,
Devour'd his pledges, at their birth, of love:
Now Rhea, who her slaughter'd children griev'd,
With Jove, the sire of gods and men, conceiv'd;
To Earth and Heav'n she for assistance runs,
And begs their counsel to revenge her sons,
To guard her Jove from wily Saturn's ire,
Secret to keep him from a barb'rous sire:
They to their daughter lend a willing ear,
And to her speak the hour of vengeance near,
Nor hide they from her what the fates ordain
Of her great-minded son, and Saturn's reign:
Her safe to Crete the parent gods convey,
In Lyctus there, a fertile soil, she lay;
At length the tedious months their course had run,
When mighty Jove she bore, her youngest son;
Wide-spreading Earth receiv'd the child with joy,
And train'd the god up from a newborn boy.
Rhea to Lyctus safely took her flight,
Protected by the sable veil of night;

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Far in the sacred earth her son she lay'd,
On mount Ægæus ever crown'd with shade.
When the old king, who once could boast his reign
O'er all the gods, and the ætherial plain,
Came jealous of the infant's future pow'r,
A stone the mother gave him to devour;
Greedy he seiz'd th'imaginary child,
And swallow'd heedless, by the dress beguil'd;
Nor thought the wretched god of ought to fear,
Nor knew the day of his disgrace was near;
Invincible remains his Jove alive,
His throne to shake, and from his kingdom drive
The cruel parent, for to him 'tis giv'n
To rule the gods, and mount the throne of heav'n.
Well thriv'd the deity, nor was it long
Before his strength increas'd, and limbs grow'd strong.
When the revolving year his course had run,
By Earth thy art and Jove his pow'rful son,
The crafty Saturn, once by gods ador'd,
His injur'd offsprings to the light restor'd:
First from within he yielded to the day
The stone deceitful, and his latest prey;
This Jove, in mem'ry of the wond'rous tale,
Fix'd on Parnassus in a sacred vale,
In Pytho the divine, a mark to be,
That future ages may astonish'd see:

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And now a greater task behind remains,
To free his kindred heav'n-born race from chains,
In an ill hour by Saturn rashly bound,
Who from the hands of Jove their freedom found;
With zeal the gods perform'd a thankful part,
The debt of gratitude lay next their heart;
Jove owes to them the bolts which dreadful fly,
And the bright light'ning which illumes the sky;
To him th'exchange for liberty they bore,
Gifts deep in earth conceal'd, unknown before;
Now arm'd with them he reigns almighty Jove,
The lord of men below and gods above.

Clymene, Ocean-born, with beauteous feet,
And Japhet, in the bands of wedlock meet;

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From whose embrace a glorious offspring came,
Atlas magnanimous, and great in fame,

180

Menœtius thou with lasting honours crown'd,
Prometheus for his artifice renown'd,

181

And Epimetheus of instedfast mind,
Lur'd to false joys, and to the future blind,
Who, rashly weak by soft Temptations mov'd,
The bane of arts and their inventors prov'd,
Who took the work of Jove, the virgin fair,
Nor saw beneath her charms the latent snare.
Blasted by light'ning from the hands of Jove,
Menœtius fell in Erebus to rove;
His dauntless mind that could not brook command,
And prone to ill, provok'd th'almighty hand.

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Atlas, so hard necessity ordains,
Erect the pond'rous vault of stars sustains;
Not far from the Hesperides he stands,
Nor from the load retracts his head or hands:
Here was he fix'd by Jove in council wise,
Who all disposes, and who rules the skys:
To the same god Prometheus ow'd his pains,
Fast bound with hard inextricable chains
To a large column, in the midmost part,
Who bore his suff'rings with a dauntless heart;
From Jove an eagle flew with wings wide spread,
And on his never-dying liver fed;
What with his rav'nous beak by day he tore
The night supply'd, and furnish'd him with more:
Great Hercules to his assistance came,
Born of Alcmena lovely-footed dame;
And first he made the bird voracious bleed,
And from his chains the son of Japhet freed;
To this the god consents, th'olympian sire,
Who, for his son's renown, suppress'd his ire,
The wrath he bore against the wretch who strove
In counsel with himself, the pow'rful Jove;
Such was the mighty thund'rer's will, to raise
To greatest height the Theban hero's praise.
When at Mecona a contention rose,
Men and immortals to each other foes,
The strife Prometheus offer'd to compose;

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In the division of the sacrifice,
Intending to deceive great Jove the wise,
He stuff'd the flesh in the large ox's skin,
And bound the entrails, with the fat, within,
Next the white bones, with artful care, dispos'd,
And in the candid fat from sight enclos'd:
The sire of gods and men, who saw the cheat,
Thus spoke expressive of the dark deceit.

In this division how unjust the parts,
O Japhet's son, of kings the first in arts!

Reproachful spoke the god in council wise;
To whom Prometheus full of guile replys,

O Jove, the greatest of the pow'rs divine,
View the division, and the choice be thine.

Wily he spoke from a deceitful mind;
Jove saw his thoughts, nor to his heart was blind;
And then the god, in wrath of foul, began
To plot misfortunes to his subject man:
The lots survey'd, he with his hands embrac'd
The parts which were in the white fat incas'd;
He saw the bones, and anger sat confess'd
Upon his brow, for anger seiz'd his breast:
Hence to the gods the od'rous flames aspire
From the white bones which feed the sacred fire.
The cloud-compelling Jove, by Japhet's son
Enrag'd, to him in words like these begun.

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O ! who in male contrivance all transcend,
Thine arts thou wilt not yet, obdurate, end.

So spoke th'eternal wisdom, full of ire,
And from that hour deny'd the use of fire
To wretched men, who pass on earth their time,
Mindful, Prometheus, of thy artful crime:
But Jove in vain conceal'd the splendid flame;
The son of Japhet, of immortal fame,
Brought the bright sparks clandestine from above
Clos'd in a hollow cane; the thund'ring Jove
Soon, from the bitterness of soul, began
To plot destruction to the peace of man.

Vulcan, a god renown'd, by Jove's command,
Form'd a fair virgin with a master hand,
Earth her first principal, her native air
As modest seeming as her face was fair.
The nymph, by Pallas, blue-ey'd goddess, dress'd,
Bright shin'd improv'd beneath the candid vest;
The rich-wrought veil behind, wond'rous to see,
Fruitful with art, bespoke the deity;
Her brows to compass did Minerva bring
A garlant breathing all the sweets of spring:
And next the goddess, glorious to behold,
Plac'd on her head a glitt'ring crown of gold,
The work of Vulcan by his master hand,
The labour of the god by Jove's command;

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There seem'd to scud along the finny breed;
And there the beasts of land appear'd to feed;
Nature and art were there so much at strife,
The miracle might well be took for life.
Vulcan the lovely bane, the finish'd maid,
To the immortal gods and men convey'd;
Graceful by Pallas dress'd the virgin trod,
And seem'd a blessing or for man or god:
Soon as they see th'inevitable snare,
They praise the artist, and admire the fair;
From her, the fatal guile, a sex derives
To men pernicious, and contracts their lives,
The softer kind, a false alluring train,
Tempting to joys which ever end with pain,
Never beheld with the penurious race,
But ever seen where lux'ry shews her face.
As drones, oppressive habitants of hives,
Owe to the labour of the bees their lives,
Whose work is always with the day begun,
And never ends but with the seting sun,
From flow'r to flow'r they rove, and loaded home
Return, to build the white the waxen comb,
While lazy the luxurious race remain
Within, and of their toils enjoy the gain,
So woman, by the thund'rer's hard decree,
And wretched man, are like the drone and bee:

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If man the gauling chain of wedlock shuns,
He from one evil to another runs;
He, when his hairs are winter'd o'er with grey,
Will want a helpmate in th'afflicting day;
And if possessions large have bless'd his life,
He dys, and proves perhaps the source of strife;
A distant kindred, far ally'd in blood,
Contend to make their doubtful titles good:
Or should he, these calamitys to fly,
His honour plight, and join the mutual ty,
And should the partner of his bosom prove
A chast and prudent matron, worthy love;
Yet he would find this chast this prudent wife
The hapless author of a checquer'd life:
But should he, wretched man, a nymph embrace,
A stubborn consort, of a stubborn race,
Poor hamper'd slave how must he drag the chain!
His mind, his breast, his heart, o'ercharg'd with pain!
What congregated woes must he endure!
What ills on ills which will admit no cure!
Th'omnipotence of Jove in all we see,
Whom none eludes, and what he wills must be;
Not thou, to none injurious, Japhet's son,
With all thy wisdom, could his anger shun;
His rage you suffer'd, and confess'd his pow'r
Chain'd in hard durance in the penal hour.

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The brothers Briareus and Cottus lay,
With Gyges, bound in chains, remov'd from day,

188

By their hard-hearted sire, who with surprise
View'd their vast strength, their form, and monstrous size:
In the remotest parts of earth confin'd
They sat, and silent sorrows wreck'd their mind,
Till by th'advice of Earth, and aid of Jove,
With other gods, the fruits of Saturn's love
With Rhea beauteous dress'd, they broke the chain,
And from their dungeons burs'd to light again.
Earth told them all, from a prophetic light,
How gods encount'ring gods should meet in fight,
To them foretold, who stood devoid of fear,
Their hour of vict'ry and renown was near;
The Titans, and the bold Saturnian race,
Should wage a dreadful war, ten years the space.
The Titans brave on lofty Othrys stand,
And gloriously dare the thund'rer's hand;
The gods from Saturn sprung ally their pow'r;
(Gods Rhea bore him in a fatal hour:)
From high Olympus they like gods engage,
And dauntless face, like gods, Titanian rage.
In the dire conflict neither party gains,
In equal ballance long the war remains;

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At last by truce each soul immortal rests,
Each god on nectar and ambrosia feasts;
Their spirits nectar and ambrosia raise,
And fire their generous breasts to acts of praise;
To whom, the banquet o'er, in council join'd,
The sire of gods and men express'd his mind:

Gods who from Earth and Heav'n, great rise, descend,
To what my heart commands to speak attend:
For vict'ry long, and empire, have we strove,
Long have ye battel'd in defence of Jove;
To war again, invincible your might,
And dare the Titans to the dreadful fight;
Of friendship strict observe the sacred charms,
Be that the cement of the gods in arms;
Grateful remember, when in chains ye lay,
From darkness Jove redeem'd ye to the day.

He spoke, and Cottus to the god replys;
O venerable sire, in council wise,
Who freed immortals from a state of woe,
Of what you utter well the truth we know:
Rescu'd from chains and darkness here we stand,
O son of Saturn, by thy pow'rful hand;
Nor will we, king, the rage of war decline,
Till pow'r, indisputable pow'r, is thine;
The right of conquest shall confirm thy sway,
And teach the Titans whom they must obey.

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He ends, the rest assent to what he says;
And the gods thank him with the voice of praise;
He more than ever feels himself inspir'd,
And his mind burns with love of glory fir'd.
All rush to battle with impetuous might,
And gods and goddesses provoke the fight.
The race that Rhea to her lord conceiv'd,
And the Titanic gods by Jove reliev'd

191

From Erebus, who there in bondage lay,
Ally their arms in this immortal day.

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Each brother fearless the dire conflict stands,
Each rears his fifty heads, and hundred hands;
They mighty rocks from their foundations tore,
And fiercely brave against the Titans bore.
Furious and swift the Titan phalanx drove,
And both with mighty force for empire strove:
The ocean roar'd from ev'ry part profound,
And the earth bellow'd from her inmost ground:
Heav'n groans, and to the gods conflicting bends,
And the loud tumult high Olympus rends.
So strong the darts from god to god were hurl'd,
The clamour reach'd the subterranean world;
And where, with haughty strides, each warrior trod
Hell felt the weight, and sunk beneath the god;
All Tartarus could hear the blows from far:
Such was the big, the horrid, voice of war!
And now the murmur of incitement flys,
All rang'd in martial order, thro the skys;
Here Jove above the rest conspicuous shin'd,
In valour equal to his strength his mind;
Erect and dauntless see the thund'rer stand,
The bolts red hissing from his vengeful hand;
He walks majestic round the starry frame;
And now the light'nings from Olympus flame;
The earth wide blazes with the fires of Jove,
Nor the flash spares the verdure of the grove.

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Fierce glows the air, the boiling ocean roars,
And the seas wash with burning waves their shores;
The dazling vapours round the Titans glare,
A light too pow'rful for their eyes to bear!
One conflagration seems to seize on all,
And threatens Chaos with the gen'ral fall.
From what their eyes behold, and what they hear,
The universal wreck of worlds is near:
Should the large vault of stars, the heav'ns, descend,
And with the earth in loud confusion blend,
Like this would seem the great tumultuous jar:
The gods engag'd, such the big voice of war!
And now the batt'ling winds their havock make,
Thick whirls the dust, Earth thy foundations shake;
The arms of Jove thick and terrific fly,
And blaze and bellow, thro the trembling sky;
Winds, thunder, light'ning, thro both armys drove,
Their course impetuous, from the hands of Jove;
Loud and stupendous is the raging fight,
And now each warriour god exerts his might.
Cottus, and Briareus, who scorn to yield,
And Gyges panting for the martial field,
Foremost the labours of the day increase,
Nor let the horrors of the battel cease:
From their strong hands three hundred rocks they throw,
And, oft' repeated, overwhelm the foe;

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They forc'd the Titans deep beneath the ground,
Cast from their pride, and in sad durance bound;
Far from the surface of the earth they ly,
In chains, as earth is distant from the sky;

195

From earth the distance to the starry frame;
From earth to gloomy Tartarus, the same.
From the high heav'n a brasen anvil cast,
Nine nights and days in rapid whirls would last,
And reach the earth the tenth, whence strongly hurl'd,
The same the passage to th'infernal world,
To Tart'rus; which a brasen closure bounds,
And whose black entrance threefold night surrounds,
With earth thy vast foundations cover'd o'er;
And there the ocean's endless fountains roar:
By cloud-compelling Jove the Titans fell,
And there in thick, in horrid, darkness dwell:
They ly confin'd, unable thence to pass,
The wall and gates by Neptune made of brass;
Jove's trusty guards, Gyges and Cottus, stand
There, and with Briareus the pass command.
The entrance there, and the last limits, ly
Of earth, the barren main, the starry sky,

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And Tart'rus; there of all the fountains rise,
A sight detested by immortal eyes:
A mighty chasm, horror and darkness here;
And from the gates the journey of a year:
Here storms in hoarse, in frightful, murmurs play,
The seat of Night, where mists exclude the day.
Before the gates the son of Japhet stands,
Nor from the skys retracts his head or hands;
Where Night and Day their course alternate lead;
Where both their entrance make, and both recede,
Both wait the season to direct their way,
And spread successive o'er the earth their sway:
This chears the eyes of mortals with her light;
The harbinger of Sleep pernicious Night:
And here the sons of Night their mansion keep,
Sad deitys, Death and his brother Sleep;
Whom, from the dawn to the decline of day,
The sun beholds not with his piercing ray:
One o'er the land extends, and o'er the seas,
And lulls the weary'd mind of man to ease;
That iron-hearted, and of cruel soul,
Brasen his breast, nor can he brook controul,
To whom, and ne'er return, all mortals go,
And even to immortal gods a foe.
Foremost th'infernal palaces are seen
Of Pluto, and Persephone his queen;

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A horrid dog, and grim, couch'd on the floor,
Guards, with malicious art, the sounding door;
On each, who in the entrance first appears,
He fawning wags his tail, and cocks his ears;
If any strive to measure back the way,
Their steps he watches, and devours his prey.
Here Styx, a goddess, whom immortals hate,
The first-born fair of Ocean, keeps her state;
From gods remote her silver columns rise,
Roof'd with large rocks her dome that fronts the skys:
Here, cross the main, swift-footed Iris brings
A message seldom from the king of kings;
But when among the gods contention spreads,
And in debate divides immortal heads,
From Jove the goddess wings her rapid flight
To the fam'd river, and the seat of Night,
Thence in a golden vase the water bears,
By whose cool streams each pow'r immortal swears.

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Styx from a sacred font her course derives,
And far beneath the earth her passage drives;
From a stupendous rock descend her waves,
And the black realms of Night her current laves:
Could any her capacious channels drain,
They'd prove a tenth of all the spacious main;
Nine parts in mazes clear as silver glide
Along the earth, or join the ocean's tide;
The other from the rock in billows rowls,
Source of misfortune to immortal souls.
Who with false oaths disgrace th'olympian bow'rs,
Incur the punishment of heav'nly pow'rs:
The perjur'd god, as in the arms of death,
Lethargic lys, nor seems to draw his breath;
Nor him the nectar and ambrosia chear,
While the sun goes his journey of a year;
Nor with the lethargy concludes his pain,
But complicated woes behind remain:
Nine tedious years he must an exile rove,
Nor join the council, nor the feasts, of Jove;
The banish'd god back in the tenth they call
To heav'nly banquets and th'olympian hall:
The honours such the gods on Styx bestow,
Whose living streams thro rugged channels flow,
Where the begining, and last limits, ly
Of earth, the barren main, the starry sky,

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And Tart'rus; where of all the fountains rise;
A sight detested by immortal eyes.
Th'inhabitants thro brasen portals pass,
Over a threshold of e'erlasting brass,
The growth spontaneous, and foundations deep;
And here th'allys of Jove their captives keep,
The Titans, who to utter darkness fell,
And in the farthest parts of Chaos dwell.
Jove grateful gave to his auxiliar train,
Cottus and Gyges, mansions in the main;
To Briareus, for his superior might
Exerted fiercely in the dreadful fight,
Neptune, who shakes the earth, his daughter gave,
Cymopolia, to reward the brave.

When the great victor god, almighty Jove,
The Titans from celestial regions drove,
Wide Earth Typhœus bore, with Tart'rus join'd,
Her youngest born, and blust'ring as the wind;

200

Fit for most arduous works his brawny hands,
On feet as durable as gods he stands;
From heads of serpents hiss an hundred tongues,
And lick his horrid jaws, untir'd his lungs;
From his dire hundred heads his eye-balls stare,
And fire-like, dreadful to beholders, glare;
Terrific from his hundred mouths to hear,
Voices of ev'ry kind torment the ear;
His utt'rance sounds like gods in council full;
And now he bellows like the lordly bull:
And now he roars like the stern beast that reigns
King of the woods, and terror of the plains;
And now, surprising to be hear'd, he yelps,
Like, from his ev'ry voice, the lion's whelps;
And now, so loud a noise the monster makes,
The loftyest mountain from its basis shakes:
And now Typhœus had perplex'd the day,
And over men and gods usurp'd the sway,

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Had not the pow'rful monarch of the skys,
Of men and gods the sire, great Jove the wise,
Against the foe his hotest vengeance hurl'd,
Which blaz'd and thunder'd thro th'ætherial world;
Thro land and main the bolts red hissing fell,
And thro old Ocean reach'd the gates of Hell.
Th'almighty rising made Olympus nod,
And the earth groan'd beneath the vengeful god.
Hoarse thro the cœrule main the thunder rowl'd,
Thro which the light'ning flew, both uncontroul'd;
Fire caught the winds which on their wings they bore,
Fierce flame the earth and heav'n, the seas loud roar,
And beat with burning waves the burning shore;
The tumult of the gods was hear'd afar:
How hard to lay this hurricane of war!
The god who o'er the dead infernal reigns,
E'en Pluto, trembled in his dark domains;
Dire horror seiz'd the rebel Titan band,
In Tartarus who round their Saturn stand:
But Jove at last collected all his might,
With light'ning arm'd, and thunder, for the fight,

202

With strides majestic from Olympus strode;
What pow'r is able now to face the god!
The flash obedient executes his ire;
The giant blazes with vindictive fire;
From ev'ry head a diff'rent flame ascends;
The monster bellows, and Olympus bends:
The god repeats his blows, beneath each wound
All maim'd the giant falls, and groans the ground.
Fierce flash the light'nings from the hands of Jove,
The mountains burn, and crackles ev'ry grove.
The melted earth floats from her inmost caves,
As from the furnace run metallic waves:
Under the caverns of the sacred ground,
Where Vulcan works, and restless anvils sound,
Beneath the hand divine the iron grows
Ductile, and liquid from the furnace flows;
So the earth melted: and the giant fell,
Plung'd by the arms of mighty Jove to hell.

Typhœus bore the rapid winds which fly
With tempests wing'd, and darken all the sky;

203

But from the bounteous gods derive their birth
The gales which breathe frugiferous to earth,
The South, the North, and the swift Western wind,
Which ever blow to profit human kind:
Those from Typhœus sprung, an useless train,
To men pernicious, bluster o'er the main;
With thick and sable clouds they veil the deep,
And now destructive cross the ocean sweep:
The mariner with dread beholds from far
The gath'ring storms, and elemental war;

204

His bark the furious blast and billows rend;
The surges rise, and cataracts descend;
Above, beneath, he hears the tempest roar;
Now sinks the vessel, and he fears no more:
And remedy to this they none can find,
Who are resolved to trade by sea and wind.
On land in whirlwinds, or unkindly show'rs,
They blast the lovely fruits and blooming flow'rs;
O'er sea and land the blust'ring tyrants reign,
And make of earth-born men the labours vain.

And now the gods, who fought for endless fame,
The god of gods almighty Jove proclaim,
As Earth advis'd: nor reigns olympian Jove
Ingrate to them who with the Titans strove;
On those who war'd beneath his wide command
He honours heaps with an impartial hand.

And now the king of gods, Jove, Metis led,
The wisest fair one, to the genial bed;

205

Who with the blue-ey'd virgin fruitful proves,
Minerva, pledge of their celestial loves;

206

The sire, from what kind Earth and Heav'n reveal'd,
Artful the matron in himself conceal'd;
From her it was decreed a race should rise
That would usurp the kingdom of the skys:
And first the virgin with her azure eyes,
Equal in strength, and as her father wise,
Is born, the offspring of th'almighty's brain:
And Metis by the god conceiv'd again,
A son decreed to reign o'er heav'n and earth,
Had not the sire destroy'd the mighty birth:
He made the goddess in himself reside,
To be in ev'ry act th'eternal guide.

The Hours to Jove did lovely Themis bear,
Eunomie, Dice, and Irene fair;

207

O'er human labours they the pow'r possess,
With seasons kind the fruits of earth to bless:
She by the thund'ring god conceiv'd again,
And suffer'd for the Fates the rending pain,
Clotho and Lachesis to whom we owe,
With Atropos, our shares of joy or woe;
This honour they receiv'd from Jove the wise,
The mighty sire, the ruler of the skys.

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Eurynome, from Ocean sprung, to Jove
The beauteous Graces bore inspiring love,
Aglaia, and Euphrosyne the fair,
And thou Thalia of a graceful air;
From the bright eyes of these such charms proceed
As make the hearts of all beholders bleed.

He Ceres next, a bounteous goddess, led
To taste the pleasures of the genial bed;
To him fair-arm'd Persephone she bore,
Whom Pluto ravish'd from her native shore:
The mournful dame he of her child bereft,
But the wise sire assented to the theft.

Mnemosyne his breast with love inspires,
The fair-tress'd object of the god's desires;
Of whom the Muses, tuneful nine, are born,
Whose brows rich diadems of gold adorn;

209

To them uninterrupted joys belong,
Them the gay feast delights, and sacred song.

Latona bore, the fruits of Jove's embrace,
The lovely'st offsprings of th'æthereal race;
She for Apollo felt the child-bed throw;
And, Artemis, for thee who twang the bow.

Last Juno fills th'almighty monarch's arms,
A blooming consort, and replete with charms;

210

From her Lucina, Mars, and Hebe, spring;
Their sire of gods the god, of kings the king.

Minerva, goddess of the martial train,
Whom wars delight, sprung from th'almighty's brain;
The rev'rend dame, unconquerable maid,
The battel rouses, of no pow'r afraid.

Juno, proud goddess, with her consort strove,
And soon conceiv'd without the joys of love;
Thee she produc'd without the aid of Jove,

211

Vulcan, who far in ev'ry art excel
The gods who in celestial mansions dwell.

To Neptune beauteous Amphitrite bore
Triton, dread god, who makes the surges roar;
Who dwells in seats of gold beneath the main,
Where Neptune and fair Amphitrite reign.

To Mars, who pierces with his spear the shield,
Terror and Fear did Cytherea yield;

212

Dire brothers who in war disorder spread,
Break the thick phalanx, and increase the dead;
They wait in ev'ry act their father's call,
By whose strong hand the proudest citys fall:
Harmonia, sprung from that immortal bed,
Was to the scene of love by Cadmus led.

Maia, of Atlas born, and mighty Jove,
Join in the sacred bands of mutual love;
From whom behold the glorious Hermes rise,
A god renown'd, the herald of the skys.

Cadmean Simele, a mortal dame,
Gave to th'almighty's love a child of fame,
Bacchus, from whom our chearful spirits flow,
Mother and son alike immortal now.

213

The mighty Hercules Alcmena bore
To the great god who makes the thunder roar.

Lame Vulcan made Aglaia fair his bride,
The youngest Grace, and in her blooming pride.

Bacchus, conspicuous with his golden hair,
Thee Ariadne weds, a beauteous fair,
From Minos sprung, whom mighty Jove the sage
Allows to charm her lord exempt from age.

Great Hercules, who with misfortunes strove
Long, is rewarded with a virtuous love,
Hebe, the daughter of the thund'ring god,
By his fair consort Juno golden shod;
Thrice happy he safe from his toils to rise,
And ever young a god to grace the skys!

214

From the bright Sun, and thee, Perseïs, spring,
Fam'd offsprings, Circe, and Æetes king.

Æetes thee, beauteous Idya, led,
Daughter of Ocean, to the genial bed;
And with th'applause of heav'n your loves were crown'd;
From whom Medea sprung, a fair renown'd.

All hail olympian maids, harmonious nine,
Daughters, of Ægis-bearing Jove, divine,
Forsake the land, forsake the briny main,
The gods and goddesses, celestial train;
Ye Muses each immortal fair record
Who deign'd to revel with a mortal lord,
In whose illustrious offsprings all might trace
The glorious likeness of a godlike race.

Jason, an hero thro the world renow'd,
Was with the joyous love of Ceres crown'd;

215

Their joys they acted in a fertile soil
Of Crete, which thrice had bore the plowman's toil;
Of them was Plutus born, who spreads his hand,
Dispersing wealth, o'er all the sea and land;
Happy the man who in his favour lives,
Riches to him, and all their joys, he gives.

Cadmus Harmonia lov'd, the fair and young,
A fruitful dame, from golden Venus sprung;
Ino, and Simele, Agave fair,
And thee, Autonoë, thy lover's care,
(Young Aristæus with his comely hair,)
She bore; and Polydore compleats the race,
Born in the Walls of Thebes a stately place.

The brave Chrysaor thee, Calliroe, led,
Daughter of Ocean, to the genial bed;
Whence Geryon sprung fierce with his triple head;
Whom Hercules lay'd breathless on the ground,
In Erythia which the waves surround;
By his strong arm the mighty giant slain,
The hero drove his oxen cross the main.

216

Two royal sons were to Tithonus born,
Of thee, Aurora, goddess of the morn;
Hemathion from whom and Memnon spring,
Known by his brasen helm was Æthiop's king.

Pregnant by Cephalus the goddess proves,
A son of high renown rewards their loves;
In form like the possessors of the skys,
Great Phaëthon; whom with desiring eyes
Fair Aphrodite views: in blooming days
She to her sacred fane the youth conveys;
Inhabitant divine he there remain'd,
His task nocturnal by the fair ordain'd.

When Pelies, haughty prince of wide command,
Of much th'atchiever with an impious hand,

217

Success attending his injurious mind,
Gave the swell'd fails to fly before the wind,
Æsonides, such gods were thy decrees,
The daughter of Æetes cross the seas
Rap'd from her sire; the hero much endur'd
'E're in his vessel he the fair secur'd;
Her to Iolcus, in her youthful pride,
He bore, and there possess'd the charming bride:
To Jason, her espous'd, the lovely dame
Medeus yields, pledge of the monarch's flame;
Whom Chiron artful by his precepts sway'd:
Thus was the will of mighty Jove obey'd.

The Nereid Psamathe did Phocus bear
To Æacus, herself excelling fair.

To Peleus Thetis, silver-footed dame,
Achilles bore, in war a mighty name.

Fair Cytherea, ever flush'd with charms,
Resign'd them to a mortal hero's arms:
To thee, Anchises, the celestial bride
Æneas bore high in the shades of Ide.

Circe, the daughter of the Sun, inclin'd
To thee, Ulysses, of a patient mind;

218

Hence Agrius sprung, and hence Latinus came,
A valiant hero, and a spotless name:
The sacred isles were by the brothers sway'd;
And them the Tyrrhenes, men renown'd, obey'd.

Calypso with the sage indulg'd her flame;
From them Nausithous and Nausinous came.

Thus each immortal fair the nine record
Who deign'd to revel with a mortal Lord;
In whose illustrious offsprings all might trace
The glorious likeness of a god-like race:
And now, olympian maids, harmonious nine,
Daughters, of Ægis-bearing Jove, divine,
In lasting song the mortal dames rehearse;
Let the bright belles of earth adorn the verse.

The end of the Theogony.