A Poetical Translation of the works of Horace With the Original Text, and Critical Notes collected from his best Latin and French Commentators. By the Revd Mr. Philip Francis...The third edition |
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| THE SECULAR POEM. |
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 | A Poetical Translation of the works of Horace |  |
485
THE SECULAR POEM.
The Poet to the People.
Stand off, ye Vulgar, nor profane,With bold, unhallow'd Sounds, this festal Scene:
In Hymns, inspir'd by Truth divine,
I Priest of the melodious Nine,
To Youths and Virgins sing the mystic Strain.
487
To the Chorus of Youths and Virgins.
Phoebus taught me how to sing,
How to tune the vocal String;
Phœbus made me known to Fame,
Honour'd with a Poet's Name.
How to tune the vocal String;
Phœbus made me known to Fame,
Honour'd with a Poet's Name.
Noble Youths, and Virgins fair,
Chaste Diana's guardian Care,
(Goddess, whose unerring Dart
Stops the Lynx or flying Hart)
Mark the Lesbian Measures well,
Where they fall, and where they swell;
And in various Cadence sing,
As I strike the changing String.
Chaste Diana's guardian Care,
489
Stops the Lynx or flying Hart)
Mark the Lesbian Measures well,
Where they fall, and where they swell;
And in various Cadence sing,
As I strike the changing String.
To the God, who gilds the Skies,
Let the solemn Numbers rise;
Solemnising the Queen of Night,
And her Crescent's bending Light,
Which adown the fruitful Year
Rolls the Months in prone Career.
Let the solemn Numbers rise;
Solemnising the Queen of Night,
And her Crescent's bending Light,
Which adown the fruitful Year
Rolls the Months in prone Career.
Soon upon her bridal Day,
Thus the joyful Maid shall say,
When the great revolving Year
Bad the festal Morn appear,
High the vocal Hymn I rais'd,
And the listening Gods were pleas'd;
All the vocal Hymn divine,
Horace, tuneful Bard, was thine.
Thus the joyful Maid shall say,
When the great revolving Year
Bad the festal Morn appear,
High the vocal Hymn I rais'd,
And the listening Gods were pleas'd;
All the vocal Hymn divine,
Horace, tuneful Bard, was thine.
491
First Concert. HYMN TO APOLLO.
Chorus of Youths and Virgins.
Tityos, with impious Lust inspir'd,
By chaste Latona's Beauties fir'd,
Thy Wrath, O Phœbus, try'd;
And Niobe, of Tongue profane,
Deplor'd her numerous Offspring slain,
Sad Victims of their Mother's Pride.
By chaste Latona's Beauties fir'd,
Thy Wrath, O Phœbus, try'd;
And Niobe, of Tongue profane,
Deplor'd her numerous Offspring slain,
Sad Victims of their Mother's Pride.
Achilles too, the Son of Fame,
Though sprung from Thetis, sea-born Dame,
And first of Men in Fight,
Though warring with tremendous Spear
He shook the Trojan Towers with Fear,
Yet bow'd to thy superiour Might;
Though sprung from Thetis, sea-born Dame,
And first of Men in Fight,
Though warring with tremendous Spear
He shook the Trojan Towers with Fear,
Yet bow'd to thy superiour Might;
The Cypress, when by Storms impell'd,
Or Pine, by biting Axes fell'd,
Low bends the towering Head;
So falling on th' ensanguin'd Plain,
By your unerring Arrow slain
His mighty Bulk the Hero spread.
Or Pine, by biting Axes fell'd,
Low bends the towering Head;
So falling on th' ensanguin'd Plain,
By your unerring Arrow slain
His mighty Bulk the Hero spread.
493
He would not Priam's heedless Court,
Dissolv'd in Wine, and festal Sport,
With midnight Art surprise,
But bravely bold, of open Force,
Would proudly scorn Minerva's Horse,
And all its holy Cheat despise:
Dissolv'd in Wine, and festal Sport,
With midnight Art surprise,
But bravely bold, of open Force,
Would proudly scorn Minerva's Horse,
And all its holy Cheat despise:
Then arm'd, alas! with Horrours dire,
Wide-wasting with resistless Ire,
Into the Flames had thrown
Infants, upon whose faultering Tongue
Their Words in formless Accents hung,
Even those to Light and Life unknown:
Wide-wasting with resistless Ire,
Into the Flames had thrown
Infants, upon whose faultering Tongue
Their Words in formless Accents hung,
Even those to Light and Life unknown:
But charm'd by Beauty's Queen and Thee,
The Sire of Gods, with just Decree
Assenting, shook the Skies;
That Troy should change th'imperial Seat,
And guided by a better Fate,
Glorious in distant Realms should rise.
The Sire of Gods, with just Decree
Assenting, shook the Skies;
That Troy should change th'imperial Seat,
And guided by a better Fate,
Glorious in distant Realms should rise.
Oh! may the God, who could inspire
With living Sounds the Grecian Lyre;
In Xanthus' lucid Stream
Who joys to bathe his flowing Hair,
Now make the Latian Muse his Care,
And powerful guard her rising Fame.
With living Sounds the Grecian Lyre;
In Xanthus' lucid Stream
Who joys to bathe his flowing Hair,
Now make the Latian Muse his Care,
And powerful guard her rising Fame.
495
Second Concert.
Chorus of Youths.Ye Virgins, sing Diana's Praise.
Chorus of Virgins.
Ye Boys, let youthful Phœbus crown your Lays.
The Two Choirs.
Together let us raise the Voice
To Her, belov'd by Jove supreme;
Let fair Latona be the Theme,
Our tuneful Theme, his beauteous Choice.
Chorus of Youths.
Ye Virgins, sing Diana's Fame,
Who bathes delighted in the limpid Stream;
Dark Erymanthus' awful Groves,
The Woods, that Algidus o'erspread,
Or wave on Gragus' verdant Head,
Joyous th'immortal Huntress loves.
497
Ye Boys, with equal Honour sing
Fair Tempe cloth'd with ever-blooming Spring;
Then hail the Delian Birth divine,
Whose Shoulders, beaming heavenly Fire,
Grac'd with his Brother's warbling Lyre,
And with the golden Quiver shine.
Chorus of Youths and Virgins.
Mov'd by the solemn Voice of Prayer,
They both shall make imperial Rome their Care,
And gracious turn the direful Woes
Of Famine and of weeping War,
From Rome, from sacred Cæsar far,
And pour them on our British Foes.
Third Concert. TO APOLLO AND DIANA.
Chorus of Youths and Virgins.Ye radiant Glories of the Skies,
Ever-beaming God of Light,
Sweetly-shining Queen of Night,
Beneath whose Wrath the wood-born Savage dies;
Ye Powers, to whom with ceaseless Praise
A grateful World its Homage pays,
499
Now in this solemn Hour prefer'd,
When by the Sibyl's dread Command,
Of spotless Maids a chosen Train,
Of spotless Youths a chosen Band,
To all our guardian Gods uplift the hallow'd Strain.
Chorus of Youths.
Fair Sun, who with unchanging Beam
Rising another, and the same,
Canst from thy beamy Car unfold
The glorious Day,
Or hide it in thy setting Ray,
Of Light and Life immortal Source,
May'st Thou, in all thy radiant Course,
Nothing more great than seven-hill'd Rome behold.
Chorus of Virgins.
Goddess of the natal Hour,
Or if other Name more dear,
Propitious Power,
Can charm your Ear,
Our pregnant Matrons gracious hear:
501
Heal their agonizing Throes;
Give the springing Birth to Light,
And with every genial Grace,
Prolific of an endless Race,
Oh! crown our Marriage-Laws, and bless the nuptial Rite;
Chorus of Youths and Virgins.
That when the circling Years complete
Again this awful Season bring,
Thrice with the revolving Light,
Thrice beneath the Shades of Night,
In countless Bands our youthful Choirs may sing
These festal Hymns, these pious Games repeat.
Again this awful Season bring,
Thrice with the revolving Light,
Thrice beneath the Shades of Night,
In countless Bands our youthful Choirs may sing
These festal Hymns, these pious Games repeat.
Ye Fates, from whom unerring flows
The Word of Truth; whose firm Decree
Its stated Bounds, and Order knows,
Wide-spreading through Eternity,
With guardian Care around us wait,
And with successive Glories crown the State.
The Word of Truth; whose firm Decree
Its stated Bounds, and Order knows,
Wide-spreading through Eternity,
With guardian Care around us wait,
And with successive Glories crown the State.
503
Let Earth her various Fruitage yield,
Her living Verdure spread,
And form, amid the waving Field,
A sheafy Crown for Ceres' Head;
Fall genial Showers, and o'er our fleecy Care
May Jove indulgent breathe his purest Air.
Her living Verdure spread,
And form, amid the waving Field,
A sheafy Crown for Ceres' Head;
Fall genial Showers, and o'er our fleecy Care
May Jove indulgent breathe his purest Air.
Chorus of Youths.
Phœbus, whose kindly Beams impart
Health and Gladness to the Heart,
While in its Quiver lies thy pestilential Dart,
Thy youthful Suppliants hear;
Chorus of Virgins.
Queen of the Stars, who rul'st the Night
In horned Majesty of Light,
Bend to thy Virgins a propitious Ear.
Chorus of Youths and Virgins.
If, ye Gods, the Roman State
Was form'd by your immortal Power,
Or if, to change th'imperial Seat,
And other Deities adore,
Beneath your Guidance the Dardanian Ho
Pour'd forth their Legions on the Tuscan Coast;
Was form'd by your immortal Power,
Or if, to change th'imperial Seat,
And other Deities adore,
Beneath your Guidance the Dardanian Ho
Pour'd forth their Legions on the Tuscan Coast;
505
For whom Æneas, through the Fire,
In which he saw his Troy expire,
A Passage open'd to an happier Clime,
Where they might nobler Triumphs gain,
And, to never-ending Time,
With boundless Empire reign,
In which he saw his Troy expire,
A Passage open'd to an happier Clime,
Where they might nobler Triumphs gain,
And, to never-ending Time,
With boundless Empire reign,
Ye Gods, inform our docile Youth
With early Principles of Truth;
Ye Gods, indulge the waning Days
Of silver'd Age with placid Ease,
And grant to Rome an endless Race,
Treasures immense, and every sacred Grace.
With early Principles of Truth;
Ye Gods, indulge the waning Days
Of silver'd Age with placid Ease,
And grant to Rome an endless Race,
Treasures immense, and every sacred Grace.
The Prince, who owes to Beauty's Queen his Birth,
Who bids the snowy Victim's Blood
Pour forth to Day its purple Flood,
Oh! may He glorious rule the conquer'd Earth;
But yet a milder Glory show
In Mercy to the prostrate Foe.
Who bids the snowy Victim's Blood
Pour forth to Day its purple Flood,
Oh! may He glorious rule the conquer'd Earth;
But yet a milder Glory show
In Mercy to the prostrate Foe.
Already the fierce Mede his Arms reveres,
Which wide extend th' imperial Sway,
And bid th' unwilling World obey;
The haughty Indian owns his Fears,
And Scythians, doubtful of their Doom,
Await the dread Resolves of Rome.
Which wide extend th' imperial Sway,
And bid th' unwilling World obey;
The haughty Indian owns his Fears,
And Scythians, doubtful of their Doom,
Await the dread Resolves of Rome.
Faith, Honour, Peace, celestial Maid!
And Modesty, in ancient Guise array'd,
And Virtue (with unhallow'd Scorn
Too long neglected) now appear,
While Plenty fills her bounteous Horn,
And pours her Blessings o'er the various Year.
And Modesty, in ancient Guise array'd,
And Virtue (with unhallow'd Scorn
Too long neglected) now appear,
While Plenty fills her bounteous Horn,
And pours her Blessings o'er the various Year.
507
If the prophetic Power divine,
Fam'd for the golden Bow, and quiver'd Dart,
Who knows to charm the listening Nine,
And feeble Mortals raise with healing Art;
If He with gracious Eye survey the Towers,
Where Rome his Deity adores,
Oh! let each Æra still presage
Increase of Happiness from Age to Age;
Chorus of Virgins.
And may Diana, on these favourite Hills
Whose diffusive Presence fills
Her hallow'd Fane,
Propitious deign
Our holy Priests to hear,
And to our Youth incline her willing Ear.
509
Lo! We the chosen, youthful Choir,
Taught with harmonious Voice to raise
Apollo's and Diana's Praise,
In full and certain Hope retire,
That all th' assembled Gods, and sovereign Jove
These pious Vows, these choral Hymns approve.
| A Poetical Translation of the works of Horace | |