A Poetical Translation of the elegies of Tibullus and of the poems of Sulpicia. With The Original Text, and Notes Critical and Explanatory. In two volumes. By James Grainger |
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| 5. | THE FIFTH ELEGY.
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 | A Poetical Translation of the elegies of Tibullus |  |
181
THE FIFTH ELEGY.
[While you at Tuscan Baths for Pleasure stay]
While you at Tuscan Baths for Pleasure stay,
(Too hot when Sirius darts his sultry Ray,
Tho' now that purple Spring adorns the Trees,
Not Baia's more medicinal than these,)
Me harder Fates attend, my Youth decays;
Yet spare, Persephone! my blameless Days:
With secret Wickedness unstung my Soul;
I never mix'd, nor gave the baneful Bowl;
I ne'er the holy Mysteries proclaim'd;
I fir'd no Temple, and no God defam'd;
Age has not snow'd my jetty Locks with White,
Nor bent my Body, nor decay'd my Sight;
(When both the Consuls fell, ah fatal Morn!
Fatal to Roman Freedom! I was born.)
Apples unripe, what Folly 'tis to pull,
Or crush the Cluster ere the Grapes are full!
(Too hot when Sirius darts his sultry Ray,
Tho' now that purple Spring adorns the Trees,
Not Baia's more medicinal than these,)
Me harder Fates attend, my Youth decays;
Yet spare, Persephone! my blameless Days:
183
I never mix'd, nor gave the baneful Bowl;
I ne'er the holy Mysteries proclaim'd;
I fir'd no Temple, and no God defam'd;
185
Nor bent my Body, nor decay'd my Sight;
(When both the Consuls fell, ah fatal Morn!
Fatal to Roman Freedom! I was born.)
187
Or crush the Cluster ere the Grapes are full!
189
Ye gloomy Gods! whom Acheron obeys,
Dispel my Sickness, and prolong my Days!
Ere to the Shades my dreary Steps I take,
Or ferry o'er th'irremeable Lake,
Let me (with Age when wrinkled all my Face)
Tell ancient Stories to my listening Race;
Dispel my Sickness, and prolong my Days!
191
Or ferry o'er th'irremeable Lake,
193
Tell ancient Stories to my listening Race;
195
Thrice five long Days and Nights consum'd with Fire,
(O sooth its Rage!) I gradually expire;
While you the Naiad of your Fountain praise,
Or lave, or spend in gentle Sport your Days:
Yet, O my Friends! whate'er the Fates decree,
Joy guide your Steps, and still remember me!
(O sooth its Rage!) I gradually expire;
197
Or lave, or spend in gentle Sport your Days:
Yet, O my Friends! whate'er the Fates decree,
Joy guide your Steps, and still remember me!
Mean Time, to deprecate the fierce Disease,
And hasten glad Returns of vigorous Ease,
Milk, mix'd with Wine, O promise to bestow,
And sable Victims, on the Gods below.
And hasten glad Returns of vigorous Ease,
Milk, mix'd with Wine, O promise to bestow,
And sable Victims, on the Gods below.
| A Poetical Translation of the elegies of Tibullus | |