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THE NINTH PYTHIAN ODE.
Strophe I.
Glowing bright with shield of brass,Victorious in the Pythian race;
Great Telesicrates his praise,
My soul delights to sound in noblest lays.
Ye Graces aid your poet's song,
And boldly bear the strain along.
Spread, spread the bliss, the glory wide,
Of brave Cyrene's garland and her pride.
From Pelion's mount where winds perpetual roar,
Bright-hair'd Apollo fair Cyrene bore
To those blest realms, where flocks in thousands stray,
And fullest plenty crowns the smiling plain:
In golden car he bore the nymph away,
And gave her o'er the world's third part to reign.
Antistrophe I.
Bright Venus, goddess of the fair,Who holds her courts and revels there;
Smiling receiv'd her Delian guest,
And breath'd soft love thro' each enamour'd breast.
While modesty, sweet blushing, spread
The happy love-expecting bed;
Where glad Apollo's glowing arms
Might clasp Hypsæus' blooming daughter's charms.
From Ocean's monarch was Hypsæus sprung,
King of the Lapithæ, a warlike throng:
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Who dalliance with fair Crëusa held
In Pindus' vale, where he the virgin won,
And with Cyrene's god-like father fill'd.
Epode I.
That father, with industrious care,Each female virtue taught the fair:
But she—a nobler task approving,
Scorn'd the loom's enervate toys:
Far from female trains removing,
Talking banquets, lazy joys:
With the bow, the quiver arming,
To the field triumphant flew;
Where the savage race alarming,
These her darts unerring slew:
O'er the hills Aurora rising,
E'er equipp'd the maid beheld;
Sleep's emollient bliss despising,
Early hast'ning to the field:
No hostile beasts her father's realms annoy'd,
She clear'd each forest, and each foe destroy'd.
Strophe II.
Once, without help of dart or spear,Maintaining an unequal war;
Phœbus on Pelion's top survey'd
Engag'd with lion fierce the lovely maid!
Strait Chiron, call'd he, from his cave,
Phyllirides, thy bower leave;
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To view the triumphs of a female power.
View with what courage she maintains the fight,
While her great spririt soars beyond her might;
She knows not fear:—relate her happy sire,
What root its birth to branch so glorious gave?
What mortal to the honour may aspire,
Of daughter so undaunted, fair, and brave?
Antistrophe II.
On the virgin, Chiron, say,May we soft compulsion lay;
Gently force her to our arms,
And crop her virgin flower, and full-blown charms?
Soften'd to smiles his features grave,
This answer sober Chiron gave;
Who love's purer flames would share,
By sweet persuasion steal upon the fair;
And with fond elegance of passion move,
The yielding fair one to a virtuous love:
In modest hints first sighing out their flame,
And delicate alike, tho' bolder grown:
For gods and men hate those who know not shame,
But shock the ear with ribbald lewdness' tone.
Epode II.
But thou, of truth great Deity,Whose proving touch all falshoods fly:
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Thee hath led to this request:
Art thou gracious, thou enquiring,
Whence descends this maiden blest?
Thou, who all events art knowing,
Every path that mortals tread;
Whence their several fates are flowing,
Where their several actions lead:
Whose is wisdom past expressing,
Knowledge past our power to tell:
Sooner count we earth's encreasing,
When her pregnant bowels swell:
Sooner, when waves roll rough, and tempests roar,
Number the sands that raging croud the shore.
Strophe III.
All things are open to thine eyes,Both where they flow, and whence they rise:
Yet if, with one so wise and great,
'Tis granted me, dread king, myself to meet;
Hear what the Centaur hath to tell:
Destin'd the maid's, thou sought'st this vale;
Hither thou cam'st, her love to share,
And to Jove's gardens o'er the seas to bear.
Thither thy people from their isle shall tend,
And to the vale-surrounded hill ascend;
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Now for thy sake glad Lybia to the fair,
In golden domes reception waits to give:
And yield her of her spacious empire share.
Antistrophe III.
There shall they rule, their laws the same,And joint command, and empire claim;
O'er realms for noblest beasts renown'd,
O'er fields with fruits and fullest plenty crown'd.
There with a son shall she be blest,
Whom, carried from his mother's breast,
The golden-throned hours shall join
With mother earth to nurse, and make divine:
Hermes to them shall bear Apollo's race,
And on their laps the smiling infant place:
His rosy lips the well-pleas'd nymphs shall bless,
With nectar and ambrosia, heavenly food;
Which, to his fires and grandsires place shall raise,
And make of men's delight, the man, a god.
Epode III.
The fields, the flocks, his care shall claim,And Aristæus be his name.”
—Speaking thus, to consummation,
Chiron instigates the god;
Swift is each immortal action;
Swift the flight, and short the road:
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Lybia strait received the pair:
Both the golden bed ascended,
Blest, and both immortal there;
There her beauteous city guarding,
Fair Cyrene ever smiles.
Her Carneans still rewarding,
In the Pythian's sacred toils.
Thrice blest Carnean, whose renown can give
Fame to those realms, whence all their fame receive!
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