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 |
 | I. | [VOL. I.] |
 | 1. |
| II. |
 | A Poetical Translation of the elegies of Tibullus |  |
I. [VOL. I.]
3
TIBULLUS. BOOK THE FIRST.
ELEGY THE FIRST.
[The glitt'ring Ore let others vainly heap]
The glitt'ring Ore let others vainly heap,
O'er fertile Vales extend th'inclosing Mound;
With dread of neighb'ring Foes forsake their Sleep,
And start aghast at ev'ry Trumpet's Sound.
O'er fertile Vales extend th'inclosing Mound;
With dread of neighb'ring Foes forsake their Sleep,
And start aghast at ev'ry Trumpet's Sound.
5
Me humbler Scenes delight, and calmer Days;
A tranquil Life fair Poverty secure!
Then boast, my Hearth, a small but cheerful Blaze,
And Riches grasp who will, let me be poor.
A tranquil Life fair Poverty secure!
Then boast, my Hearth, a small but cheerful Blaze,
And Riches grasp who will, let me be poor.
Nor yet be Hope a Stranger to my Door,
But o'er my Roof, bright Goddess, still preside!
With many a bounteous Autumn heap my Floor,
And swell my Vats with Must, a purple Tide.
But o'er my Roof, bright Goddess, still preside!
With many a bounteous Autumn heap my Floor,
And swell my Vats with Must, a purple Tide.
My tender Vines I'll plant with early Care,
And choicest Apples, with a skilful Hand;
Nor blush, a Rustic, oft to guide the Share,
Or goad the tardy Ox along the Land.
And choicest Apples, with a skilful Hand;
Nor blush, a Rustic, oft to guide the Share,
Or goad the tardy Ox along the Land.
7
Let me, a simple Swain, with honest Pride,
If chance a Lambkin from its Dam should roam,
Or sportful Kid, the little Wanderer chide,
And in my Bosom bear exulting Home.
If chance a Lambkin from its Dam should roam,
Or sportful Kid, the little Wanderer chide,
And in my Bosom bear exulting Home.
Here Pales I bedew with milky Show'rs,
Lustrations yearly for my Shepherd pay,
Revere each antique Stone bedeck'd with Flow'rs
That bounds the Field, or points the doubtful Way.
Lustrations yearly for my Shepherd pay,
Revere each antique Stone bedeck'd with Flow'rs
That bounds the Field, or points the doubtful Way.
9
My grateful Fruits, the earliest of the Year,
Before the rural God shall duly wait.
From Ceres' Gifts I'll cull each browner Ear,
And hang a wheaten Wreath before her Gate.
Before the rural God shall duly wait.
From Ceres' Gifts I'll cull each browner Ear,
And hang a wheaten Wreath before her Gate.
The ruddy God shall save my Fruit from stealth,
And far away each little Plund'rer scare:
And you, the Guardians once of ampler Wealth,
My household Gods, shall still my Off'rings share.
And far away each little Plund'rer scare:
And you, the Guardians once of ampler Wealth,
My household Gods, shall still my Off'rings share.
11
My num'rous Herds, that wanton'd o'er the Mead,
The choicest Fatling then could richly yield;
Now scarce I spare a little Lamb to bleed
A mighty Victim for my scanty Field.
The choicest Fatling then could richly yield;
Now scarce I spare a little Lamb to bleed
A mighty Victim for my scanty Field.
And yet a Lamb shall bleed, while, rang'd around,
The Village Youths shall stand in Order meet,
With rustic Hymns, ye Gods, your Praise resound,
And future Crops and future Wines intreat.
The Village Youths shall stand in Order meet,
With rustic Hymns, ye Gods, your Praise resound,
And future Crops and future Wines intreat.
Then come, ye Pow'rs, nor scorn my frugal Board,
Nor yet the Gifts clean earthen Bowls convey;
With these the first of Men the Gods ador'd,
And form'd their simple Shape of ductile Clay.
Nor yet the Gifts clean earthen Bowls convey;
With these the first of Men the Gods ador'd,
And form'd their simple Shape of ductile Clay.
My little Flock, ye Wolves, ye Robbers, spare,
Too mean a Plunder to deserve your Toil;
For wealthier Herds the nightly Theft prepare;
There seek a nobler Prey, and richer Spoil.
Too mean a Plunder to deserve your Toil;
For wealthier Herds the nightly Theft prepare;
There seek a nobler Prey, and richer Spoil.
For treasur'd Wealth, nor Stores of golden Wheat,
The Hoard of frugal Sires, I vainly call;
A little Farm be mine, a Cottage neat
And wonted Couch where balmy Sleep may fall.
The Hoard of frugal Sires, I vainly call;
A little Farm be mine, a Cottage neat
And wonted Couch where balmy Sleep may fall.
13
“What Joy to hear the Tempest howl in vain,
“And clasp a fearful Mistress to my Breast:
“Or lull'd to Slumber by the beating Rain,
“Secure and happy sink at last to rest.”
“And clasp a fearful Mistress to my Breast:
“Or lull'd to Slumber by the beating Rain,
“Secure and happy sink at last to rest.”
These Joys be mine!—O grant me only these,
And give to others Bags of shining Gold,
Whose steely Heart can brave the boist'rous Seas,
The Storm wide-wasting, or the stiffning Cold.
And give to others Bags of shining Gold,
Whose steely Heart can brave the boist'rous Seas,
The Storm wide-wasting, or the stiffning Cold.
15
Content with little, I would rather stay
Than spend long Months amid the watry Waste:
In cooling Shades elude the scorching Ray
Beside some Fountain's gliding Waters plac'd.
Than spend long Months amid the watry Waste:
In cooling Shades elude the scorching Ray
Beside some Fountain's gliding Waters plac'd.
O perish rather all that's rich and rare,
The diamond Quarry, and the golden Vein,
Than that my Absence cost one precious Tear,
Or give some gentle Maid a Moment's Pain.
The diamond Quarry, and the golden Vein,
Than that my Absence cost one precious Tear,
Or give some gentle Maid a Moment's Pain.
With Glitt'ring Spoils, Messala, gild thy Dome,
Be thine the noble Task to lead the Brave:
A lovely Foe me captive holds at Home,
Chain'd to her scornful Gate, a watchful Slave.
Be thine the noble Task to lead the Brave:
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Chain'd to her scornful Gate, a watchful Slave.
Inglorious Post!—And yet I heed not Fame:
Th'Applause of Crouds for Delia I'd resign:
To live with thee I'd bear the Coward's Name,
Nor 'midst the Scorn of Nations once repine.
Th'Applause of Crouds for Delia I'd resign:
To live with thee I'd bear the Coward's Name,
Nor 'midst the Scorn of Nations once repine.
With thee to live I'd mock the Plowman's Toil,
Or on some lonely Mountain tend my Sheep;
At Night I'd lay me on the flinty Soil,
And happy 'midst thy dear Embraces sleep.
Or on some lonely Mountain tend my Sheep;
At Night I'd lay me on the flinty Soil,
And happy 'midst thy dear Embraces sleep.
What drooping Lover heeds the Tyrian Bed,
While the long Night is pass'd with many a Sigh:
Nor softest Down with richest Carpets spread,
Nor whisp'ring Rills, can close the weeping Eye.
While the long Night is pass'd with many a Sigh:
Nor softest Down with richest Carpets spread,
Nor whisp'ring Rills, can close the weeping Eye.
Of threefold Iron were his rugged Frame,
Who when he might thy yielding Heart obtain,
Could yet attend the Calls of empty Fame,
Or follow Arms in quest of sordid Gain.
Who when he might thy yielding Heart obtain,
Could yet attend the Calls of empty Fame,
Or follow Arms in quest of sordid Gain.
19
Unenvy'd let him drive the vanquish'd Host,
Thro' captive Lands his conquering Armies lead;
Unenvy'd wear the Robe with Gold imboss'd,
And guide with solemn State his foaming Steed.
Thro' captive Lands his conquering Armies lead;
Unenvy'd wear the Robe with Gold imboss'd,
And guide with solemn State his foaming Steed.
O may I view thee with Life's parting Ray,
And thy dear Hand with dying Ardor press:
Sure thou wilt weep—and on thy Lover's Clay,
With breaking Heart, print many a tender Kiss!
And thy dear Hand with dying Ardor press:
Sure thou wilt weep—and on thy Lover's Clay,
With breaking Heart, print many a tender Kiss!
Sure thou wilt weep—and Woes unutter'd feel,
When on the Pile thou seest thy Lover laid!
For well I know, nor Flint, nor ruthless Steel,
Can arm the Breast of such a gentle Maid.
When on the Pile thou seest thy Lover laid!
For well I know, nor Flint, nor ruthless Steel,
Can arm the Breast of such a gentle Maid.
From the sad Pomp, what Youth, what pitying Fair,
Returning slow can tender Tears refrain?
O Delia, spare thy Cheeks, thy Tresses spare,
Nor give my ling'ring Shade a World of Pain.
Returning slow can tender Tears refrain?
21
Nor give my ling'ring Shade a World of Pain.
But now while smiling Hours the Fates bestow,
Let Love, dear Maid, our gentle Hearts unite!
Soon Death will come and strike the fatal Blow;
Unseen his Head, and veil'd in Shades of Night.
Let Love, dear Maid, our gentle Hearts unite!
Soon Death will come and strike the fatal Blow;
Unseen his Head, and veil'd in Shades of Night.
Soon creeping Age will bow the Lover's Frame,
And tear the myrtle Chaplet from his Brow:
With hoary Locks ill suits the youthful Flame,
The soft Persuasion, or the ardent Vow.
And tear the myrtle Chaplet from his Brow:
With hoary Locks ill suits the youthful Flame,
The soft Persuasion, or the ardent Vow.
Now the fair Queen of gay Desire is ours,
And lends our Follies an indulgent Smile:
'Tis lavish Youth's t'enjoy the frolick Hours,
The wanton Revel and the midnight Broil.
And lends our Follies an indulgent Smile:
'Tis lavish Youth's t'enjoy the frolick Hours,
The wanton Revel and the midnight Broil.
Your Chief, my Friends, and Fellow-soldier, I
To these light Wars will lead you boldly on:
Far hence ye Trumpets sound and Banners fly:
To those who covet Wounds and Fame begone.
To these light Wars will lead you boldly on:
23
To those who covet Wounds and Fame begone.
And bear them Fame and Wounds; and Riches bear;
There are that Fame and Wounds and Riches prize.
For me, while I possess one plenteous Year,
I'll Wealth and meagre Want alike despise.
There are that Fame and Wounds and Riches prize.
For me, while I possess one plenteous Year,
I'll Wealth and meagre Want alike despise.
25
THE SECOND ELEGY.
[With Wine, more Wine, my recent Pains deceive]
With Wine, more Wine, my recent Pains deceive,
Till creeping Slumber send a soft Reprieve:
Asleep, take heed no Whisper stirs the Air,
For wak'd, my Boy, I wake to heart-felt Care.
Now is my Delia watch'd by ruthless Spies,
And the Gate, bolted, all Access denies.
Relentless Gate! may Storms of Wind and Rain,
With mingled Violence avenge my Pain!
May forky Thunders, hurl'd by Jove's red Hand,
Burst every Bolt, and shatter every Band!
Ah no! Rage turns my Brain; the Curse recall;
On me, devoted, let the Thunder fall!
Then recollect my many Wreaths of Yore,
How oft you've seen me weep, insensate Door!
No longer then our Interview delay,
And as you open let no Noise betray.
Till creeping Slumber send a soft Reprieve:
Asleep, take heed no Whisper stirs the Air,
For wak'd, my Boy, I wake to heart-felt Care.
Now is my Delia watch'd by ruthless Spies,
And the Gate, bolted, all Access denies.
Relentless Gate! may Storms of Wind and Rain,
With mingled Violence avenge my Pain!
May forky Thunders, hurl'd by Jove's red Hand,
Burst every Bolt, and shatter every Band!
Ah no! Rage turns my Brain; the Curse recall;
On me, devoted, let the Thunder fall!
Then recollect my many Wreaths of Yore,
How oft you've seen me weep, insensate Door!
27
And as you open let no Noise betray.
In vain I plead!—Dare then my Delia rise!
Love aids the Dauntless, and will blind your Spies!
Those who the Godhead's soft Behests obey,
Steal from their Pillows unobserv'd away;
On tiptoe traverse unobserv'd the Floor;
The Key turn noiseless, and unfold the Door:
In vain the jealous each Precaution take,
Their speaking Fingers Assignations make.
Nor will the God impart to all his Aid:
Love hates the fearful, hates the lazy Maid;
But through sly Windings, and unpractis'd Ways,
His bold Night-Errants to their Wish conveys:
For those whom He with Expectation fires,
No Ambush frightens, and no Labour tires;
Sacred the Dangers of the Dark they dare,
No Robbers stop them, and no Bravoes scare.
Tho' wintery Tempests howl, by Love secure,
The howling Tempest I with ease endure:
No watching hurts me, if my Delia smile,
Soft turn the Gate, and beckon me the while.
Love aids the Dauntless, and will blind your Spies!
Those who the Godhead's soft Behests obey,
Steal from their Pillows unobserv'd away;
On tiptoe traverse unobserv'd the Floor;
The Key turn noiseless, and unfold the Door:
In vain the jealous each Precaution take,
Their speaking Fingers Assignations make.
Nor will the God impart to all his Aid:
Love hates the fearful, hates the lazy Maid;
But through sly Windings, and unpractis'd Ways,
His bold Night-Errants to their Wish conveys:
For those whom He with Expectation fires,
No Ambush frightens, and no Labour tires;
Sacred the Dangers of the Dark they dare,
No Robbers stop them, and no Bravoes scare.
Tho' wintery Tempests howl, by Love secure,
The howling Tempest I with ease endure:
29
Soft turn the Gate, and beckon me the while.
She's mine. Be blind, ye Ramblers of the Night,
Lest angry Venus snatch your guilty Sight:
The Goddess bids her Votaries Joys to be
From every casual Interruption free:
With prying Steps alarm us not, retire,
Nor glare your Torches, nor our Names enquire:
Or if ye know, deny, by Heaven above,
Nor dare divulge the Privacies of Love.
From Blood and Seas vindictive Venus sprung,
And sure Destruction waits the blabbing Tongue!
Nay, should they prate, you, Delia, need not fear;
Your Lord, (a Sorceress swore,) should give no Ear!
By potent Spells she cleaves the sacred Ground,
And shuddering Spectres wildly roam around!
I've seen her tear the Planets from the Sky!
Seen Lightning backward at her Bidding fly!
She calls! from blazing Pyres the Corse descends,
And, re-enliven'd, clasps his wondering Friends!
The Fiends she gathers with a magic Yell,
Then with Aspersions frights them back to Hell!
She wills,—glad Summer gilds the frozen Pole!
She wills,—in Summer wintery Tempests roll!
She knows, ('tis true,) Medea's awful Spell!
She knows to vanquish the fierce Guards of Hell!
To me she gave a Charm for Lovers meet,
(“Spit thrice, my Fair, and thrice the Charm repeat.”)
Us, in soft Dalliance should your Lord surprize;
By this impos'd on he'd renounce his Eyes!
But bless no Rival, or th'Affair is known;
This Incantation me befriends alone.
Nor stopp'd she here; but swore, if I'd agree,
By Charms or Herbs to set thy Lover free.
With dire Lustrations she began the Rite!
(Serenely shone the Planet of the Night)
The magic Gods she call'd with hellish sound,
A sable Sacrifice distain'd the Ground—
I stopp'd the Spell: I must not, cannot part:
I begg'd her Aid to gain a mutual Heart.
Lest angry Venus snatch your guilty Sight:
The Goddess bids her Votaries Joys to be
From every casual Interruption free:
With prying Steps alarm us not, retire,
Nor glare your Torches, nor our Names enquire:
Or if ye know, deny, by Heaven above,
Nor dare divulge the Privacies of Love.
From Blood and Seas vindictive Venus sprung,
And sure Destruction waits the blabbing Tongue!
31
Your Lord, (a Sorceress swore,) should give no Ear!
By potent Spells she cleaves the sacred Ground,
And shuddering Spectres wildly roam around!
I've seen her tear the Planets from the Sky!
Seen Lightning backward at her Bidding fly!
She calls! from blazing Pyres the Corse descends,
And, re-enliven'd, clasps his wondering Friends!
33
Then with Aspersions frights them back to Hell!
She wills,—glad Summer gilds the frozen Pole!
She wills,—in Summer wintery Tempests roll!
She knows, ('tis true,) Medea's awful Spell!
She knows to vanquish the fierce Guards of Hell!
To me she gave a Charm for Lovers meet,
(“Spit thrice, my Fair, and thrice the Charm repeat.”)
35
By this impos'd on he'd renounce his Eyes!
But bless no Rival, or th'Affair is known;
This Incantation me befriends alone.
Nor stopp'd she here; but swore, if I'd agree,
By Charms or Herbs to set thy Lover free.
With dire Lustrations she began the Rite!
(Serenely shone the Planet of the Night)
The magic Gods she call'd with hellish sound,
A sable Sacrifice distain'd the Ground—
I stopp'd the Spell: I must not, cannot part:
I begg'd her Aid to gain a mutual Heart.
39
THE THIRD ELEGY.
[While you, Messala, plough th'Ægean Sea]
While you, Messala, plough th'Ægean Sea,
O sometimes kindly deign to think of me:
Me, hapless me, Phæacian Shores detain,
Unknown, unpitied, and oppress'd with Pain.
Yet spare me, Death, ah spare me and retire:
No weeping Mother's here to light my Pyre:
Here is no Sister, with a Sister's Woe,
Rich Syrian Odors on the Pile to throw:
But chief, my Soul's soft Partner is not here,
Her Locks to loose, and sorrow o'er my Bier.
O sometimes kindly deign to think of me:
Me, hapless me, Phæacian Shores detain,
Unknown, unpitied, and oppress'd with Pain.
Yet spare me, Death, ah spare me and retire:
No weeping Mother's here to light my Pyre:
41
Rich Syrian Odors on the Pile to throw:
But chief, my Soul's soft Partner is not here,
Her Locks to loose, and sorrow o'er my Bier.
What tho' fair Delia my Return implor'd,
Each Fane frequented, and each God ador'd:
What tho' they bade me every Peril brave;
And Fortune thrice auspicious Omens gave;
All could not dry my tender Delia's Tears,
Suppress her Sighs, or calm her anxious Fears;
E'en as I strove to minister Relief,
Unconscious Tears proclaim'd my heart-felt Grief:
Urg'd still to go, a thousand Shifts I made,
Birds now, now Festivals my Voyage staid:
Or, if I struck my Foot against the Door,
Strait I return'd, and Wisdom was no more.
Forbid by Cupid, let no Swain depart,
Cupid is vengeful, and will wring his Heart.
Each Fane frequented, and each God ador'd:
What tho' they bade me every Peril brave;
And Fortune thrice auspicious Omens gave;
All could not dry my tender Delia's Tears,
Suppress her Sighs, or calm her anxious Fears;
E'en as I strove to minister Relief,
Unconscious Tears proclaim'd my heart-felt Grief:
43
Birds now, now Festivals my Voyage staid:
Or, if I struck my Foot against the Door,
Strait I return'd, and Wisdom was no more.
Forbid by Cupid, let no Swain depart,
Cupid is vengeful, and will wring his Heart.
What do your Offerings now, my Fair, avail?
Your Isis heeds not, and your Cymbals fail!
What, though array'd in sacred Robes you stood,
Fled Man's Embrace, and sought the purest Flood?
While this I write, I sensibly decay,—
“Assist me, Isis, drive my Pains away:
“That you can every mortall Ill remove,
“The numerous Tablets in your Temple prove:
“So shall my Delia, veil'd in votive White,
“Before your Threshold sit for many a Night;
“And twice a Day, her Tresses all unbound,
“Amid your Votaries fam'd, your Praises sound:
“Safe to my household Gods may I return,
“And Incense monthly on their Altars burn.”
Your Isis heeds not, and your Cymbals fail!
What, though array'd in sacred Robes you stood,
Fled Man's Embrace, and sought the purest Flood?
While this I write, I sensibly decay,—
“Assist me, Isis, drive my Pains away:
45
“The numerous Tablets in your Temple prove:
“So shall my Delia, veil'd in votive White,
“Before your Threshold sit for many a Night;
“And twice a Day, her Tresses all unbound,
“Amid your Votaries fam'd, your Praises sound:
“Safe to my household Gods may I return,
“And Incense monthly on their Altars burn.”
47
How blest Man liv'd in Saturn's golden Days,
E'er distant Climes were join'd by lengthned Ways.
Secure the Pine upon the Mountain grew,
Nor yet o'er Billows in the Ocean flew;
Then every Clime a wild Abundance bore,
And Man liv'd happy on his natal Shore:
For then no Steed to feel the Bit was broke,
Then had no Steer submitted to the Yoke;
No House had Gates, (blest Times!) and, in the Grounds
No scanty Landmarks parcell'd out the Bounds:
From every Oak redundant Honey ran,
And Ewes spontaneous bore their Milk to Man:
No deathful Arms were forg'd, no War was wag'd,
No Rapine plunder'd, no Ambition rag'd.
How chang'd, alas! Now cruel Jove commands;
Gold fires the Soul, and Falchions arm our Hands:
Each Day, the Main unnumber'd Lives destroys;
And Slaughter, daily, o'er her Myriads joys.
Yet spare me, Jove, I ne'er disown'd thy Sway,
I ne'er was perjur'd; spare me, Jove, I pray.
E'er distant Climes were join'd by lengthned Ways.
Secure the Pine upon the Mountain grew,
Nor yet o'er Billows in the Ocean flew;
Then every Clime a wild Abundance bore,
And Man liv'd happy on his natal Shore:
For then no Steed to feel the Bit was broke,
Then had no Steer submitted to the Yoke;
No House had Gates, (blest Times!) and, in the Grounds
No scanty Landmarks parcell'd out the Bounds:
From every Oak redundant Honey ran,
And Ewes spontaneous bore their Milk to Man:
No deathful Arms were forg'd, no War was wag'd,
No Rapine plunder'd, no Ambition rag'd.
49
Gold fires the Soul, and Falchions arm our Hands:
Each Day, the Main unnumber'd Lives destroys;
And Slaughter, daily, o'er her Myriads joys.
Yet spare me, Jove, I ne'er disown'd thy Sway,
I ne'er was perjur'd; spare me, Jove, I pray.
But, if the Sisters have pronounc'd my Doom,
Inscrib'd be these upon my humble Tomb.
“Lo! here inurn'd a youthful Poet lies,
“Far from his Delia, and his native Skies!
“Far from the lov'd Messala, whom to please
“Tibullus follow'd over Land and Seas.”
Inscrib'd be these upon my humble Tomb.
“Lo! here inurn'd a youthful Poet lies,
“Far from his Delia, and his native Skies!
“Far from the lov'd Messala, whom to please
“Tibullus follow'd over Land and Seas.”
Then Love my Ghost (for Love I still obey'd)
Will grateful usher to th'Elysian Shade:
There Joy and ceaseless Revelry prevail;
There soothing Musick floats on every Gale;
There painted Warblers hop from Spray to Spray,
And, wildly-pleasing, swell the general Lay:
There every Hedge, untaught, with Cassia blooms,
And scents the ambient Air with rich Perfumes:
There every Mead a various Plenty yields;
There lavish Flora paints the purple Fields:
With ceaseless Light a brighter Phœbus glows,
No Sickness tortures, and no Ocean flows;
But Youths associate with the gentle Fair,
And stung with Pleasure to the Shade repair:
With them Love wanders wheresoe'er they stray,
Provokes to Rapture, and inflames the Play:
But chief, the constant Few, by Death betray'd,
Reign, crown'd with Myrtle, Monarchs of the Shade.
Will grateful usher to th'Elysian Shade:
51
There soothing Musick floats on every Gale;
There painted Warblers hop from Spray to Spray,
And, wildly-pleasing, swell the general Lay:
There every Hedge, untaught, with Cassia blooms,
And scents the ambient Air with rich Perfumes:
There every Mead a various Plenty yields;
There lavish Flora paints the purple Fields:
With ceaseless Light a brighter Phœbus glows,
No Sickness tortures, and no Ocean flows;
But Youths associate with the gentle Fair,
And stung with Pleasure to the Shade repair:
With them Love wanders wheresoe'er they stray,
Provokes to Rapture, and inflames the Play:
But chief, the constant Few, by Death betray'd,
Reign, crown'd with Myrtle, Monarchs of the Shade.
Not so the Wicked; far they drag their Chains,
By black Lakes sever'd from the blissful Plains;
Those should they pass, impassable the Gate
Where Cerb'rus howls, grim Sentinel of Fate.
There snake-hair'd Fiends with Whips patrole around,
Rack'd Anguish bellows, and the Deeps resound:
There he, who dar'd to tempt the Queen of Heaven,
Upon an ever-turning Wheel is driven:
The Danaids there, still strive huge Casks to fill,
But strive in vain, the Casks elude their Skill:
There Pelop's Sire, to quench his thirsty Fires,
Still tries the Flood, and still the Flood retires:
There Vulturs tear the Bow'ls, and drink the Gore,
Of Tityus, stretch'd enormous on the Shore.
Dread Love, as vast as endless be their Pain
Who tempt my Fair, or wish a long Campaign.
By black Lakes sever'd from the blissful Plains;
53
Where Cerb'rus howls, grim Sentinel of Fate.
There snake-hair'd Fiends with Whips patrole around,
Rack'd Anguish bellows, and the Deeps resound:
There he, who dar'd to tempt the Queen of Heaven,
Upon an ever-turning Wheel is driven:
The Danaids there, still strive huge Casks to fill,
But strive in vain, the Casks elude their Skill:
There Pelop's Sire, to quench his thirsty Fires,
Still tries the Flood, and still the Flood retires:
There Vulturs tear the Bow'ls, and drink the Gore,
Of Tityus, stretch'd enormous on the Shore.
Dread Love, as vast as endless be their Pain
Who tempt my Fair, or wish a long Campaign.
55
O let no Rival your Affections share,
Long as this Bosom beats, my lovely Fair!
Still on you let your prudent Nurse attend;
She'll guard your Honour, she's our common Friend.
Her Tales of Love your Sorrowings will allay,
And, in my Absence, make my Delia gay:
Let her o'er all your Virgin-train preside,
She'll praise th'Industrious, and the Lazy chide.
But see! on all enfeebling Languors creep;
Their Distaffs drop, they yawn, they nod, they sleep.
Then, if the Destinies propitious prove,
Then will I rush, all Passion, on my Love:
My wish'd Return no Messenger shall tell,
I'll seem, my Fair, as if from Heaven I fell.
A soft Confusion flushes all your Charms,
Your graceful Dishabille my Bosom warms,
You, Delia, fly and clasp me in your Arms.
Long as this Bosom beats, my lovely Fair!
Still on you let your prudent Nurse attend;
She'll guard your Honour, she's our common Friend.
Her Tales of Love your Sorrowings will allay,
And, in my Absence, make my Delia gay:
Let her o'er all your Virgin-train preside,
She'll praise th'Industrious, and the Lazy chide.
But see! on all enfeebling Languors creep;
Their Distaffs drop, they yawn, they nod, they sleep.
Then, if the Destinies propitious prove,
Then will I rush, all Passion, on my Love:
My wish'd Return no Messenger shall tell,
I'll seem, my Fair, as if from Heaven I fell.
A soft Confusion flushes all your Charms,
Your graceful Dishabille my Bosom warms,
You, Delia, fly and clasp me in your Arms.
For this Surprize, ye Powers of Love, I pray,
Post on Aurora, bring the rosy Day.
Post on Aurora, bring the rosy Day.
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THE FOURTH ELEGY.
[So round, my God, may shady Coverings bend]
Poet.So round, my God, may shady Coverings bend,
No Sun-beams scorch thy Face, no Snows offend!
Whence are the Fair so proud to win thy Heart,
Yet rude thy Beard, and guiltless thou of Art?
Naked thou stand'st, expos'd to wintery Snows!
Naked thou stand'st when burning Sirius glows!
Thus I—and thus the Garden-Power reply'd,
A crooked Sickle glittering by his Side.
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Take no Repulse—at first what tho' they fly!
O'ercome at last, Reluctance will comply.
The Vine in Time full ripen'd Clusters bears,
And circling Time brings back the rolling Spheres:
In Time soft Rains thro' Marble sap their Way,
And Time taught Man to tame fierce Beasts of Prey.
Nor aw'd by Conscience meanly dread to swear;
Love-oaths, unratify'd, wild Tempests bear!
Banish then Scruples, if you'd gain a Heart;
Swear, swear by Pallas' Locks, Diana's Dart;
By all that's most rever'd—if they require:
Oaths bind not eager Love, thank Heaven's good Sire!
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Time posts; and, oh! Youth's Raptures soon are o'er:
Now Forests bloom, and purple Earth looks gay;
Bleak Winter blows, and all her Charms decay:
How soon the Steed to Age's Stiffness yields,
So late a Victor in th'Olympic Fields?
I've seen the Aged oft lament their Fate,
That senseless they had learnt to live too late.
Ye partial Gods, and can the Snake renew,
His youthful Vigour and his burnish'd Hue?
But Youth and Beauty past; is art in vain
To bring the coy Deserters back again?
Poet.
Jove gives alone the Powers of Wit and Wine,
In Youth immortal, spite of Years, to shine.
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Yield prompt Compliance to the Maid's Desires;
A prompt Compliance fans the Lover's Fires:
Go pleas'd where'er she goes, tho' long the Way,
Tho' the fierce Dog-Star dart his sultry Ray;
Tho' painted Iris gird the bluish Sky,
And sure portends, that ratling Storms are nigh:
Or, if the Fair-one pant for sylvan Fame,
Gay drag the Meshes, and provoke the Game:
Nay, should she chuse to risk the driving Gale;
Or steer, or row, or agile hand the Sail:
No Toil, tho' weak, tho' fearful, thou forbear;
No Toils should tire you, and no Dangers scare:
Occasion smiles, then snatch an ardent Kiss;
The Coy may struggle, but will grant the Bliss:
The Bliss obtain'd, the fictious Struggle past;
Unbid, they'll clasp you in their Arms at last.
Poet.
Alas! in such degenerate Days as these,
No more Love's gentle Wiles the Beauteous please!
65
The Fair-one's languish now alone for Gain!
O may Dishonour be the Wretch's Share,
Who first with hateful Gold seduc'd the Fair!
Priapus.
Ye charming Dames, prefer the tuneful Quire,
Nor meanly barter heavenly Charms for Hire.
What cannot Song? The purple Locks that glow'd
On Nisus' Head, harmonious Song bestow'd!
What cannot Strains? By tuneful Strains alone
Fair Iv'ry, Pelops, on thy Shoulder shone!
While Stars with nightly Radiance gild the Pole,
Earth boasts her Oaks, or mighty Waters roll,
The Fair, whose Beauty Poets deign to praise,
Shall bloom uninjur'd in poetic Lays:
While she who hears not when the Muses call,
But flies their Fav'rites, Gold's inglorious Thrall!
Shall prove, believe the Bard, or soon, or late,
A dread Example of avenging Fate!
Nor meanly barter heavenly Charms for Hire.
What cannot Song? The purple Locks that glow'd
On Nisus' Head, harmonious Song bestow'd!
What cannot Strains? By tuneful Strains alone
Fair Iv'ry, Pelops, on thy Shoulder shone!
While Stars with nightly Radiance gild the Pole,
Earth boasts her Oaks, or mighty Waters roll,
The Fair, whose Beauty Poets deign to praise,
Shall bloom uninjur'd in poetic Lays:
While she who hears not when the Muses call,
But flies their Fav'rites, Gold's inglorious Thrall!
Shall prove, believe the Bard, or soon, or late,
A dread Example of avenging Fate!
Soft, flattering Songs, the Cyprian Queen approves;
And aids the suppliant Swain with all her Loves.
And aids the suppliant Swain with all her Loves.
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The God, no Novice in th'intriguing Trade,
This Answer, Titius, to my Question made:
But Caution bids you fly th'insidious Fair,
And paints the Perils of their Eyes and Air;
Nor these alone, devoted Man subdue,
Devoted Man their slighest Actions woo.
This Answer, Titius, to my Question made:
But Caution bids you fly th'insidious Fair,
And paints the Perils of their Eyes and Air;
Nor these alone, devoted Man subdue,
Devoted Man their slighest Actions woo.
Be cautious those who list—but ye who know
Desire's hot Fever, and Contempt's chill Woe;
Me grateful praise—Contempt shall pain no more;
But Wish meet Wish, instructed by my Lore:
By various Means, while others seek for Fame,
Scorn'd Love to counsel be my noblest Aim.
Wide stands my Gate for all—I rapt foresee
The Time, when I Love's Oracle shall be!
When round my Seat shall press th'enamour'd Throng.
Attend my Motions, and applaud my Song.
Desire's hot Fever, and Contempt's chill Woe;
Me grateful praise—Contempt shall pain no more;
But Wish meet Wish, instructed by my Lore:
By various Means, while others seek for Fame,
Scorn'd Love to counsel be my noblest Aim.
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The Time, when I Love's Oracle shall be!
When round my Seat shall press th'enamour'd Throng.
Attend my Motions, and applaud my Song.
Alas! my Hopes are fled, my Wiles are vain;
The Fair, I doat on, treats me with Disdain:
Yet spair me, Charmer, your Disdain betrays
To witty Laughter my too boastful Lays.
The Fair, I doat on, treats me with Disdain:
Yet spair me, Charmer, your Disdain betrays
To witty Laughter my too boastful Lays.
71
THE FIFTH ELEGY.
[Of late I boasted I could happy be]
Of late I boasted I could happy be,
Resume the Man, and not my Delia see!
My boasts of Manhood boasts of Bliss are vain;
Back to my Bondage I return again!
And like a Top am whirl'd, which Boys, for Sport.
Lash on the Pavement of a level Court!
Resume the Man, and not my Delia see!
My boasts of Manhood boasts of Bliss are vain;
Back to my Bondage I return again!
And like a Top am whirl'd, which Boys, for Sport.
Lash on the Pavement of a level Court!
What can attone, my Fair, for Crimes like these?
I'll bear with Patience, use me as you please!
Yet, by Love's Shafts, and by your braided Hair,
By all the Joys we stole, your Suppliant spare.
When Sickness dimm'd, of late, your radiant Eyes;
My restless, fond Petitions won the Skies.
Thrice I with Sulphur purified you round,
And thrice the Rite, with Songs, th'Enchantress bound:
The Cake, by me thrice sprinkled, put to flight
The death-denouncing Phantoms of the Night:
And I nine Times, in linnen Garbs array'd,
In silent Night, nine Times to Trivia pray'd.
What did I not? Yet what Reward have I?
You love another, your Preserver fly!
He tastes the sweet Effects of all my Cares,
My fond Lustrations, and my solemn Prayers.
I'll bear with Patience, use me as you please!
Yet, by Love's Shafts, and by your braided Hair,
By all the Joys we stole, your Suppliant spare.
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My restless, fond Petitions won the Skies.
Thrice I with Sulphur purified you round,
And thrice the Rite, with Songs, th'Enchantress bound:
The Cake, by me thrice sprinkled, put to flight
The death-denouncing Phantoms of the Night:
And I nine Times, in linnen Garbs array'd,
In silent Night, nine Times to Trivia pray'd.
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You love another, your Preserver fly!
He tastes the sweet Effects of all my Cares,
My fond Lustrations, and my solemn Prayers.
Are these the Joys my madding Fancy drew,
If young-ey'd Health restor'd your rosy Hue?
I fondly thought, sweet Maid, oh thought in vain!
With you to live a blythsome Village-swain.
When yellow Ceres asks the Reaper's Hand,
Delia (said I) will guard the Reaper's Band;
Delia will keep, when Hinds unload the Vine,
The choicest Grapes for me, the richest Wine:
My Flocks she'll count, and oft will sweetly deign
To clasp some Pratler of my menial Train:
With pious Care will load each rural Shrine,
For ripen'd Crops a golden Sheaf assign,
Cates for my Fold, rich Clusters for my Vine:
No, no domestic Care shall touch my Soul;
You, Delia, reign despotic o'er the Whole!
And will Messala fly from Pomp of State,
And deign to enter at my lowly Gate?
The choicest Fruitage, that my Trees afford,
Delia will cull herself, to deck the Board;
And wondering, such transcendant Worth to see,
The Fruit present, thy blushing Hand-maid she.
If young-ey'd Health restor'd your rosy Hue?
I fondly thought, sweet Maid, oh thought in vain!
With you to live a blythsome Village-swain.
When yellow Ceres asks the Reaper's Hand,
Delia (said I) will guard the Reaper's Band;
Delia will keep, when Hinds unload the Vine,
The choicest Grapes for me, the richest Wine:
My Flocks she'll count, and oft will sweetly deign
To clasp some Pratler of my menial Train:
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For ripen'd Crops a golden Sheaf assign,
Cates for my Fold, rich Clusters for my Vine:
No, no domestic Care shall touch my Soul;
You, Delia, reign despotic o'er the Whole!
And will Messala fly from Pomp of State,
And deign to enter at my lowly Gate?
The choicest Fruitage, that my Trees afford,
Delia will cull herself, to deck the Board;
And wondering, such transcendant Worth to see,
The Fruit present, thy blushing Hand-maid she.
Such were the sond Chimeras of my Brain,
Which now the Winds have wafted o'er the Main.
O Power of Love, whom still my Soul obey'd,
What has my Tongue against thy Mother said?
Guiltless of Ill, unmark'd with Incest's Stain,
I stole no Garland from her holy Fane:
For Crimes, like these, I'd abject crawl the Ground,
Kiss her dread Threshold, and my Forehead wound.
Which now the Winds have wafted o'er the Main.
O Power of Love, whom still my Soul obey'd,
What has my Tongue against thy Mother said?
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I stole no Garland from her holy Fane:
For Crimes, like these, I'd abject crawl the Ground,
Kiss her dread Threshold, and my Forehead wound.
But ye who, falsely wise, deride my Pains,
Beware; your Hour approaches—Love has Chains.
I've known the Young, who ridicul'd his Rage;
Love's humblest Vassals, when oppress'd with Age:
Each Art, I've known them try to win the Fair,
Smooth their hoarse Voice, and dress their scanty Hair;
I've known them, in the Street, her Maid detain;
And weeping, beg her to assist their Pain.
At such preposterous Love, each School-boy sneers:
Shuns, as an Omen; or pursues with Fleers.
Beware; your Hour approaches—Love has Chains.
I've known the Young, who ridicul'd his Rage;
Love's humblest Vassals, when oppress'd with Age:
Each Art, I've known them try to win the Fair,
Smooth their hoarse Voice, and dress their scanty Hair;
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And weeping, beg her to assist their Pain.
At such preposterous Love, each School-boy sneers:
Shuns, as an Omen; or pursues with Fleers.
Why do you crush your Slave, fair Queen of Joy?
Destroying me, your Harvest you destroy!
Destroying me, your Harvest you destroy!
83
THE SIXTH ELEGY.
[With Wine, I strove to sooth my Love-sick Soul]
With Wine, I strove to sooth my Love-sick Soul,
But vengeful Cupid dash'd with Tears the Bowl:
All mad with Rage, to kinder Nymphs I flew;
But Vigour fled me, when I thought on you.
Balk'd of the Rapture, from my Arms they run,
Swear I'm devoted, and my Converse shun!
But vengeful Cupid dash'd with Tears the Bowl:
All mad with Rage, to kinder Nymphs I flew;
But Vigour fled me, when I thought on you.
Balk'd of the Rapture, from my Arms they run,
Swear I'm devoted, and my Converse shun!
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By what dire Witchcraft am I thus betray'd?
Your Face and Hair unnerve me, matchless Maid:
Not more celestial look'd the Sea-born Fair,
Receiv'd by Peleus from her pearly Chair.
A rich Admirer his Addresses paid;
And brib'd my Mistress by a Beldam's Aid.
From you my ruin, curst Procuress, rose;
What Imprecations shall avenge my Woes?
May Heaven, in pity to my Sufferings, shed
Its keenest Mischief on your plotting Head!
The Ghosts of those, you robb'd of Love's delight,
In horrid Visions haunt your irksome Night!
And, on the Chimney, may the boding Owl
Your Rest disturb, and terrify your Soul!
By Famine stung, to Church-yards may you run;
There, feast on Offals, hungry Wolves would shun!
Or howling frantic, in a tatter'd Gown;
Fierce Mastiffs bate you thro' each crowded Town!
Your Face and Hair unnerve me, matchless Maid:
Not more celestial look'd the Sea-born Fair,
Receiv'd by Peleus from her pearly Chair.
A rich Admirer his Addresses paid;
And brib'd my Mistress by a Beldam's Aid.
From you my ruin, curst Procuress, rose;
What Imprecations shall avenge my Woes?
May Heaven, in pity to my Sufferings, shed
Its keenest Mischief on your plotting Head!
The Ghosts of those, you robb'd of Love's delight,
In horrid Visions haunt your irksome Night!
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Your Rest disturb, and terrify your Soul!
By Famine stung, to Church-yards may you run;
There, feast on Offals, hungry Wolves would shun!
Or howling frantic, in a tatter'd Gown;
Fierce Mastiffs bate you thro' each crowded Town!
'Tis done! a Lover's Curse the Gods approve;
But keenest Vengeance fires the Queen of Love.
Leave then, my Fair, the crafty venal Jade;
What Passion yields not, when such Foes invade?
But keenest Vengeance fires the Queen of Love.
Leave then, my Fair, the crafty venal Jade;
What Passion yields not, when such Foes invade?
Your Hearts, ye Fair, does modest Merit claim?
Tho' small his Fortunes, feed his gentle Flame;
For, genuin Love's soft Raptures would ye know?
These Raptures Merit can alone bestow:
The Sons of Opulence are Folly's Care,
But Want's rough Child is Sense, and Honour's Heir.
Tho' small his Fortunes, feed his gentle Flame;
For, genuin Love's soft Raptures would ye know?
These Raptures Merit can alone bestow:
The Sons of Opulence are Folly's Care,
But Want's rough Child is Sense, and Honour's Heir.
In vain we sing—the Gate still bolted stands;
Come, Vengeance, let us burst its sullen Bands.
Learn, happy Rival, by my Wrongs to know
Your Fate; since Fortune governs all below.
Come, Vengeance, let us burst its sullen Bands.
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Your Fate; since Fortune governs all below.
91
THE SEVENTH ELEGY.
[Love still invites me with a smiling Eye!]
Love still invites me with a smiling Eye!
Beneath his Smiles, what Pains and Anguish lye?
Yet since the Gods, dread Power, must yield to thee!
What Laurels canst thou gain from conquering me?
Me Delia lov'd; but by thy subtle Wiles,
The Fair, in secret, on another smiles:
That my Suspicion's false, 'tis true, she swears;
And backs her Imprecations with her Tears!
False Fair, your Oaths, and Syren Tears refrain;
Your Syren Tears, and Oaths no Credit gain;
For when your Lord suspected me of yore,
As much you wept, as many Oaths you swore.
Beneath his Smiles, what Pains and Anguish lye?
Yet since the Gods, dread Power, must yield to thee!
What Laurels canst thou gain from conquering me?
Me Delia lov'd; but by thy subtle Wiles,
The Fair, in secret, on another smiles:
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And backs her Imprecations with her Tears!
False Fair, your Oaths, and Syren Tears refrain;
Your Syren Tears, and Oaths no Credit gain;
For when your Lord suspected me of yore,
As much you wept, as many Oaths you swore.
Yet wherefore blame I Love? the blame is mine;
I, wretched I, first taught her to design!
I first instructed her, her Spies to foil!
Back on myself my wanton Arts recoil:
Herbs of rare Energy my Skill supplied,
All Marks of too-fond Gallantry to hide!
More artful now, alone the wanton Lies;
And new Pretexts her cozening Brains devise.
I, wretched I, first taught her to design!
I first instructed her, her Spies to foil!
Back on myself my wanton Arts recoil:
Herbs of rare Energy my Skill supplied,
All Marks of too-fond Gallantry to hide!
More artful now, alone the wanton Lies;
And new Pretexts her cozening Brains devise.
Uncautious Lord of a too cunning Spouse!
Admittance grant me, she shall keep her Vows!
Be warn'd, my Friend, observe her when her Tongue
Commends in wanton Phrase the gay-dress'd young;
O let her not her heaving Bosom bare,
Expos'd to every Fop's immodest Stare.
When leaning on the Board, with flowing Wine,
She seems to draw some inconsiderate Line;
Take heed, take heed, (I know the Warning true)
These random Lines assign an Interview.
Nor let your Wife to Fanes so frequent roam,
A modest Wife's best Temple is at Home:
But if your Prohibitions all are vain;
Give me the Hint, I'll dodge her to the Fane;
What tho' the Goddess snatch my curious Sight,
I'll bring her wanton Privacies to light.
Admittance grant me, she shall keep her Vows!
Be warn'd, my Friend, observe her when her Tongue
Commends in wanton Phrase the gay-dress'd young;
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Expos'd to every Fop's immodest Stare.
When leaning on the Board, with flowing Wine,
She seems to draw some inconsiderate Line;
Take heed, take heed, (I know the Warning true)
These random Lines assign an Interview.
Nor let your Wife to Fanes so frequent roam,
A modest Wife's best Temple is at Home:
But if your Prohibitions all are vain;
Give me the Hint, I'll dodge her to the Fane;
What tho' the Goddess snatch my curious Sight,
I'll bring her wanton Privacies to light.
97
Some Gem she wore, I'd oft pretend to view,
But squeez'd her Fingers unperceiv'd of you:
Oft with full racy Bowls I seal'd your Eyes,
Water my Bev'ridge, and obtain'd the Prize.
Yet since I tell, forgive the Pranks I play'd,
Love prompted all, and Love must be obey'd!
But squeez'd her Fingers unperceiv'd of you:
Oft with full racy Bowls I seal'd your Eyes,
Water my Bev'ridge, and obtain'd the Prize.
Yet since I tell, forgive the Pranks I play'd,
Love prompted all, and Love must be obey'd!
Nay, 'twas at me (be now the Truth avow'd)
Your watchful Mastiff us'd to bark so loud;
But now some other, with insidious wait,
Intent observes each creaking of your Gate,
At which, whoever of the House appears,
Passing, the Mein of quick Dispatch he wears;
But comes again, the Minute they remove,
And coughs, sure Signal of impatient Love!
Your watchful Mastiff us'd to bark so loud;
But now some other, with insidious wait,
Intent observes each creaking of your Gate,
At which, whoever of the House appears,
Passing, the Mein of quick Dispatch he wears;
But comes again, the Minute they remove,
And coughs, sure Signal of impatient Love!
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What boots, tho' Marriage gave a Wife so fair,
If careless you, or she eludes your Care?
While Men are artful, and your Wife can feign,
Vain are your Brazen-bolts, your Mastiffs vain.
If careless you, or she eludes your Care?
While Men are artful, and your Wife can feign,
Vain are your Brazen-bolts, your Mastiffs vain.
Cold to the Raptures of the genial Bed,
She lays the Fault upon an aching Head:
'Tis false; the Wanton for some other Sighs;
From this, her Coolness, this, her Aches arise.
She lays the Fault upon an aching Head:
'Tis false; the Wanton for some other Sighs;
From this, her Coolness, this, her Aches arise.
Then then be warn'd, intrust her to my Care;
Whipps, Chains I laugh at, if you grant my Prayer.
“Hence from my Ward, ye sparkish essenc'd Beaus;
“Illegal Love oft springs from essenc'd Cloaths.”
Where'er she walks, not distant I'll attend;
And guard your Honour from the casual Friend!
“Off, Gallants, off: for so the Gods ordain,
“So, the dread Priestess in unerring Strain!”
(When holy Fury fires the frantic Dame,
She mocks all Torture, and exults in Flame;
Her Snow-white Arms and heaving Breast she tears;
And with the gushing Gore Bellona smears;
Deep in her Side she plants the glittering Sword;
And the dread Goddess prompts each fateful Word.)
“Ye youths beware, nor touch whom Cupid guards,
“Unpunish'd none Attempt his gentle Wards:
“As my Blood flows, and as these Ashes fly;
“Their wealth shall perish, and their manhood die.”
Whipps, Chains I laugh at, if you grant my Prayer.
“Hence from my Ward, ye sparkish essenc'd Beaus;
“Illegal Love oft springs from essenc'd Cloaths.”
Where'er she walks, not distant I'll attend;
And guard your Honour from the casual Friend!
“Off, Gallants, off: for so the Gods ordain,
“So, the dread Priestess in unerring Strain!”
(When holy Fury fires the frantic Dame,
She mocks all Torture, and exults in Flame;
101
And with the gushing Gore Bellona smears;
Deep in her Side she plants the glittering Sword;
And the dread Goddess prompts each fateful Word.)
“Ye youths beware, nor touch whom Cupid guards,
“Unpunish'd none Attempt his gentle Wards:
“As my Blood flows, and as these Ashes fly;
“Their wealth shall perish, and their manhood die.”
She menac'd then the Fair, with dreadful Pain;
E'en were you guilty, may her Threats be vain:
Not on your own Account; your Mother's Age,
Your worthy Mother, deprecates my Rage:
When Love and Fortune smil'd, her gentle Aid
Oft me conducted to the blooming Maid;
My Foot-steps, wakeful, from a-far she knew,
Unbarr'd the Gate, nor fear'd the nightly Dew:
Half of my Life's long Thread I'd pleas'd resign,
My sweet Conductress, could I lengthen thine!
Still, still, tho' much abus'd, I Delia prize;
She's still thy Daughter, and enchants my Eyes.
E'en were you guilty, may her Threats be vain:
Not on your own Account; your Mother's Age,
Your worthy Mother, deprecates my Rage:
When Love and Fortune smil'd, her gentle Aid
Oft me conducted to the blooming Maid;
My Foot-steps, wakeful, from a-far she knew,
Unbarr'd the Gate, nor fear'd the nightly Dew:
Half of my Life's long Thread I'd pleas'd resign,
My sweet Conductress, could I lengthen thine!
Still, still, tho' much abus'd, I Delia prize;
She's still thy Daughter, and enchants my Eyes.
Yet tho' no coy Cimarr invest the Fair;
Nor vestal Fillet bind her auburn Hair;
Teach her what decent Modesty requires;
To crown my Fire, alone, with equal Fires.
Me too confine; and if, in wanton Praise
Of other Maids, my Tongue luxuriant strays;
Let thy Suspicion then no Limits know,
Insult me, spurn me, as thy greatest Foe!
But if your Jealousies are built in Air,
And patient Love your Usage cannot bear;
What Wrath may perpetrate, my Soul alarms;
For Wrath, I warn you, heeds not Female-charms.
Nor yet be chaste, from mean unamorous Fear;
Be still most modest, when I am not near.
Nor vestal Fillet bind her auburn Hair;
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To crown my Fire, alone, with equal Fires.
Me too confine; and if, in wanton Praise
Of other Maids, my Tongue luxuriant strays;
Let thy Suspicion then no Limits know,
Insult me, spurn me, as thy greatest Foe!
But if your Jealousies are built in Air,
And patient Love your Usage cannot bear;
What Wrath may perpetrate, my Soul alarms;
For Wrath, I warn you, heeds not Female-charms.
Nor yet be chaste, from mean unamorous Fear;
Be still most modest, when I am not near.
For those, whom neither Wit, nor Worth secure,
Grow old, unpitied; palsi'd, worthless, poor;
Yet with each servile Drudgery they strive,
To keep their Being's Wretchedness alive!
The gay regard their Woe, with laughing Eyes;
Swear they deserve it, and absolve the Skies!
Nor Venus less exults! “May such a Fate,
(From Heaven she prays) upon th'Inconstant wait.”
Grow old, unpitied; palsi'd, worthless, poor;
Yet with each servile Drudgery they strive,
To keep their Being's Wretchedness alive!
The gay regard their Woe, with laughing Eyes;
Swear they deserve it, and absolve the Skies!
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(From Heaven she prays) upon th'Inconstant wait.”
The same my Wish! but O may we two prove,
In Age, a Pattern of unalter'd Love!
In Age, a Pattern of unalter'd Love!
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THE EIGHTH ELEGY.
[“This Day, (the Fates foretold in sacred Song]
“This Day, (the Fates foretold in sacred Song,
And singing drew the vital Twine along)
“He comes, nor shall the Gods the Doom recal,
“He comes, whose Sword shall quell the Rebel Gaul.
“With all her Laurels, him shall Conquest crown,
“And Nations shudder at his awful Frown;
“Smooth Atur, now that flows through peaceful Lands,
“Shall fly affrighted at his hostile Bands.”
'Tis done! this Prophecy, Rome joys to see,
Far-fam'd Messala, now fulfill'd in thee:
Long Triumphs ravish the Spectators Eyes,
And fetter'd Chieftains of enormous Size:
An Ivory-car, with Steeds as white as Snow,
Sustains thy Grandeur through the pompous Show.
And singing drew the vital Twine along)
“He comes, nor shall the Gods the Doom recal,
“He comes, whose Sword shall quell the Rebel Gaul.
“With all her Laurels, him shall Conquest crown,
“And Nations shudder at his awful Frown;
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“Shall fly affrighted at his hostile Bands.”
'Tis done! this Prophecy, Rome joys to see,
Far-fam'd Messala, now fulfill'd in thee:
Long Triumphs ravish the Spectators Eyes,
And fetter'd Chieftains of enormous Size:
An Ivory-car, with Steeds as white as Snow,
Sustains thy Grandeur through the pompous Show.
Some little Share, in those Exploits, I bore;
Witness Tarbella; and the Santoigne Shore;
Witness the Land, winding with a silver Soane;
Where rush the Garonne; and th'impetuous Rhone;
Where Loire, enamour'd of Carnutian Bounds,
Leads his blue Water through the yellow Grounds.
Witness Tarbella; and the Santoigne Shore;
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Where rush the Garonne; and th'impetuous Rhone;
Where Loire, enamour'd of Carnutian Bounds,
Leads his blue Water through the yellow Grounds.
Or shall His other Acts adorn my Theme;—
Fair Cydnus, stealing with a silent Stream?
Taurus, that in the Clouds his Fore-head hides,
And rich Cilicia from the World divides;
Taurus, from which unnumber'd Rivers spring,
The savage Seat of Tempests, shall I sing?
Why should I tell, how sacred through the Skies
Of Syrian Cities, the white Pidgeon flies?
Why sing of Tyrian Towers, which Neptune laves;
Whence the first Vessel, venturous, stemm'd the Waves?
How shall the Bard the secret Source explore,
Whence, Father Nile, thou draw'st thy watery Store?
Thy Fields ne'er importune for Rain the Sky;
Thou dost benignly all their Wants supply:
As Egypt, Apis mourns in mystic Lays,
She joins thy Praises to Osiris' Praise.
Fair Cydnus, stealing with a silent Stream?
Taurus, that in the Clouds his Fore-head hides,
And rich Cilicia from the World divides;
Taurus, from which unnumber'd Rivers spring,
The savage Seat of Tempests, shall I sing?
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Of Syrian Cities, the white Pidgeon flies?
Why sing of Tyrian Towers, which Neptune laves;
Whence the first Vessel, venturous, stemm'd the Waves?
How shall the Bard the secret Source explore,
Whence, Father Nile, thou draw'st thy watery Store?
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Thou dost benignly all their Wants supply:
As Egypt, Apis mourns in mystic Lays,
She joins thy Praises to Osiris' Praise.
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Osiris first contriv'd the crooked Plough,
And pull'd ripe Apples from the novice Bough;
He taught the Swains, the Savage-mould to wound,
And scatter'd Seed-corn in th'unpractis'd Ground.
He first with Poles sustain'd the reptile Vine,
And shew'd its Infant tendrils how to twine;
Its wanton Shoots instructed Man to shear,
Subdue their Wildness, and mature the Year:
Then too, the ripen'd Cluster first was trod;
Then in gay Streams its cordial Soul bestow'd;
This as Swains quaff'd, spontaneous Numbers came,
They prais'd the festal Cask, and hymn'd thy Name;
All Ecstacy! to certain Time they bound,
And beat in measur'd Aukwardness the Ground.
Gay Bowls serene the wrinkled Front of Care;
Gay Bowls the toil-oppressed Swain repair!
And let the Slave the laughing Goblet drain;
He blythsome sings, though Manacles inchain.
And pull'd ripe Apples from the novice Bough;
He taught the Swains, the Savage-mould to wound,
And scatter'd Seed-corn in th'unpractis'd Ground.
He first with Poles sustain'd the reptile Vine,
And shew'd its Infant tendrils how to twine;
Its wanton Shoots instructed Man to shear,
Subdue their Wildness, and mature the Year:
Then too, the ripen'd Cluster first was trod;
Then in gay Streams its cordial Soul bestow'd;
This as Swains quaff'd, spontaneous Numbers came,
They prais'd the festal Cask, and hymn'd thy Name;
All Ecstacy! to certain Time they bound,
And beat in measur'd Aukwardness the Ground.
Gay Bowls serene the wrinkled Front of Care;
Gay Bowls the toil-oppressed Swain repair!
And let the Slave the laughing Goblet drain;
He blythsome sings, though Manacles inchain.
Thee Sorrow flies, Osiris, God of Wine!
But Songs, enchanting Love, and Dance are thine:
But Flowers and Ivy thy fair Head surround,
And a loose Saffron-mantle sweeps the Ground.
With Purple-robes invested, now you glow;
The shrine is shewn, and Flutes melodious blow:
Come then, my God, but come bedew'd with Wine!
Attend the Rites, and in the Dance combine;
The Rites and Dances are to Genius due!
Benign Osiris, stand confess'd to view!
Rich Unguents drop already from his Hair,
His Head and Neck soft flowery Garlands share!
O come, so shall my grateful Incense rise,
And Cates of Honey meet thy laughing Eyes!
But Songs, enchanting Love, and Dance are thine:
But Flowers and Ivy thy fair Head surround,
And a loose Saffron-mantle sweeps the Ground.
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The shrine is shewn, and Flutes melodious blow:
Come then, my God, but come bedew'd with Wine!
Attend the Rites, and in the Dance combine;
The Rites and Dances are to Genius due!
Benign Osiris, stand confess'd to view!
Rich Unguents drop already from his Hair,
His Head and Neck soft flowery Garlands share!
O come, so shall my grateful Incense rise,
And Cates of Honey meet thy laughing Eyes!
On thee, Messala ('tis my fervent Prayer)
May Heaven bestow a wise, a warlike Heir:
In whom, increas'd, paternal Worth may shine,
Whose Acts may add a Lustre to thy Line,
And Transports give thee in thy Life's decline.
May Heaven bestow a wise, a warlike Heir:
In whom, increas'd, paternal Worth may shine,
Whose Acts may add a Lustre to thy Line,
And Transports give thee in thy Life's decline.
But should the Gods my fervent Prayer deny,
Thy Fame, my glorious Friend, shall never die.
Long as (thy bounteous Work) the well-made Way
Shall its broad Pavement to the Sun display.
The Bards of Alba shall in lofty Rhyme,
Transmit thy Glory down the Tide of Time:
They sing from Gratitude: nor less the Clown
Whom Love or Business have detain'd in Town
Till late, as home he safely plods along,
Thee chants, Messala, in his Village-song.
Thy Fame, my glorious Friend, shall never die.
Long as (thy bounteous Work) the well-made Way
Shall its broad Pavement to the Sun display.
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Transmit thy Glory down the Tide of Time:
They sing from Gratitude: nor less the Clown
Whom Love or Business have detain'd in Town
Till late, as home he safely plods along,
Thee chants, Messala, in his Village-song.
Blest Morn, which still my grateful Muse shall sing,
Oft rise, and with you greater Blessings bring.
Oft rise, and with you greater Blessings bring.
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THE NINTH ELEGY.
[In vain would Lovers hide their Infant-smart]
In vain would Lovers hide their Infant-smart,From me a Master in the amorous Art;
I read their Passion in their Mein and Eyes,
O'er-hear their Whispers, and explain their Sighs.
This Skill no Delphian Oracles bestow'd,
No Augurs taught me, and no Victims show'd;
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Lash'd me, and lashing, mutter'd many a Sound.
No more then, Marathus, Indifference feign,
Else vengeful Venus will inhance your Pain!
What now, sweet Youth, avails your anxious Care,
So oft to essence, oft to change your Hair?
What tho' Cosmetics all their Aid supply?
And every Artifice of Dress you try?
She's not oblig'd to Bredes, to Gems, to Cloaths,
Her Charms to Nature Pholoe only owes.
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What Mid-night Sorceress fascinates your Mind?
Spells can seduce the Corn from neighbouring Plains!
The head-long Serpent halts at Magic Strains!
And did not Cymbals stop thy prone Career,
A Spell thee Luna from thy Orb would tear!
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Magic is useless to a perfect Frame!
You squees'd her Hands, your Arms around her threw,
Join'd Lip to Lip, and hence your Passion grew.
Cease then, fair Maid, to give your Lover Pain;
Love hates the Haughty, will avenge the Swain.
See Youth vermilions o'er his modest Face!
Can Riches equal such a Boy's Embrace?
Then ask no Bribe—when Age affects the Gay,
Your every Smile let hoary Dotage pay;
But you your Arms around the Stripling throw,
And scorn the Treasure Monarchs can bestow.
But she who gives to Age, her Charms, for pay,
May her wealth perish, and her Bloom decay.
Then when Impatience thrills in every Vein,
May Manhood shun her, and the Young disdain.
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Alas! when Age has silver'd o'er the Head,
And Youth that feeds the Lamp of Love is fled,
In vain the Toilette charms; 'tis vain to try,
Grey scanty Locks with yellow Nuts to die;
You strip the Tell-tales vainly from their Place;
And vainly strive to mend an aged Face.
And Youth that feeds the Lamp of Love is fled,
In vain the Toilette charms; 'tis vain to try,
Grey scanty Locks with yellow Nuts to die;
You strip the Tell-tales vainly from their Place;
And vainly strive to mend an aged Face.
Then in thine Eyes while Youth triumphant glows,
And with his Flowers thy Cheeks my Fair-one sows,
Incline thine Heart to Love, and gentle Play,
Youth, Youth has rapid Wings, and flies away!
The fond old Lover vilify, disdain;
What Praise can crown you from a Stripling's Pain?
Spare then the lovely Boy; his Beauties die;
By no dire Sickness sent him from the Sky:
The Gods are just; you, Pholoe, are to blame;
His sallow Colour from your Coyness came.
And with his Flowers thy Cheeks my Fair-one sows,
Incline thine Heart to Love, and gentle Play,
Youth, Youth has rapid Wings, and flies away!
The fond old Lover vilify, disdain;
What Praise can crown you from a Stripling's Pain?
Spare then the lovely Boy; his Beauties die;
By no dire Sickness sent him from the Sky:
The Gods are just; you, Pholoe, are to blame;
His sallow Colour from your Coyness came.
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Groans rend his Breast, and Tears his Cheeks bedew?
“Why dost thou rack me with Contempt? he cries,
“The willing ever can elude their Spies.
“Had you, O had you felt what now I feel,
“Venus would teach you from your Spies to steal.
“I can breathe low; can snatch the melting Kiss,
“And noiseless ravish Loves enchanting Bliss;
“At Mid-night I securely grope my Way;
“The Floor tread noiseless, noiseless turn the Key.
“Poor fruitless Skill! my Skill if she despise,
“And cruel from the Bed of Rapture flies.
“Or if a Promise haply I obtain,
“That she will recompence at Night my Pain;
“How am I dup'd? I wakeful listen round,
“And think I hear her in each casual Sound.
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“In russet Weeds I'll shrowd my Wretchedness.
“The Wiles of Love, and Arts of Dress are vain,
“My Fair to soften, and Admittance gain.”
Youth, weep no more; your Eyes are swoln with Tears;
No more complain; for O! she stops her Ears.
The Gods, I warn you, hate the haughty Fair,
Reject their Incense, and deny their Prayer.
This Youth, this Marathus, who wears your Chains,
Late laugh'd at Love, and ridicul'd its Pains!
Th'impatient Lover in the Street would stay!
Nor dreamt that Vengeance would his Crimes repay.
Now, now he moans his past Misdeeds with Tears,
A Prey to Love, and all its frantic Fears:
Now he exclaims at Female-scorn and Hate;
And from his Soul abhors a bolted Gate!
Like Vengeance waits you; trust th'unerring Muse,
If still you're coy, and still Access refuse!
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But vainly wish, these Moments to recall!
139
THE TENTH ELEGY.
[Why did you swear by all the Powers above?]
Why did you swear by all the Powers above?
Yet never meant to crown my longing Love.
Wretch, tho' at first the perjur'd Deed you hide,
Wrath comes with certain, tho' with tardy Stride;
Yet, yet, offended Gods, my Charmer spare!
Yet pardon the first Fault of one so fair!
Yet never meant to crown my longing Love.
Wretch, tho' at first the perjur'd Deed you hide,
Wrath comes with certain, tho' with tardy Stride;
Yet, yet, offended Gods, my Charmer spare!
Yet pardon the first Fault of one so fair!
For Gold the careful Farmer ploughs the Plain,
And joins his Oxen to the cumbrous Wane;
For Gold, thro' Seas that stormy Winds obey,
By Stars, the Sailor steers his watery Way.
Yet, gracious Gods, this Gold from Man remove,
That wicked Metal brib'd the Fair I love.
And joins his Oxen to the cumbrous Wane;
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By Stars, the Sailor steers his watery Way.
Yet, gracious Gods, this Gold from Man remove,
That wicked Metal brib'd the Fair I love.
Soon shall you suffer greatly for your Crime,
A weary Wanderer in a foreign Clime;
Your Hair shall change, and boasted Bloom decay,
By wintery Tempests, and the solar Ray.
A weary Wanderer in a foreign Clime;
Your Hair shall change, and boasted Bloom decay,
By wintery Tempests, and the solar Ray.
“Beware of Gold, how oft did I advise?
“From tempting Gold what mighty Mischiefs rise?
“Love's generous Power, I said, with ten-fold Pain
“The Wretch will rack, who sells her Charms for Gain.
“Let Torture all her Cruelties exert,
“Torture is Pastime to a venal Heart.
“From tempting Gold what mighty Mischiefs rise?
“Love's generous Power, I said, with ten-fold Pain
“The Wretch will rack, who sells her Charms for Gain.
“Let Torture all her Cruelties exert,
“Torture is Pastime to a venal Heart.
“Nor idly dream your Gallantries to hide,
“The Gods are ever on the Sufferer's Side.
“With Sleep or Wine o'ercome, so Fate ordains,
“You'll blab the Secret of your impious Gains.”
“The Gods are ever on the Sufferer's Side.
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“You'll blab the Secret of your impious Gains.”
Thus oft I warn'd you; this augments my Shame;
My Sighs, Tears, Homage, henceforth I disclaim.
My Sighs, Tears, Homage, henceforth I disclaim.
“No Wealth shall bribe my Constancy, you swore,
“Be mine the Bard, you sigh'd, I crave no more:
“Not all Campania shall my Heart intice,
“For thee Campania's Autumns I despise.
“Let Bacchus in Falernian Vineyards stray,
“Not Bacchus' Vineyards shall my Faith betray.”
“Be mine the Bard, you sigh'd, I crave no more:
“Not all Campania shall my Heart intice,
“For thee Campania's Autumns I despise.
“Let Bacchus in Falernian Vineyards stray,
“Not Bacchus' Vineyards shall my Faith betray.”
Such strong Professions, in so soft a Strain,
Might well deceive a captivated Swain;
Such strong Professions might Aversion charm,
Slow Doubt determine, and Indifference warm.
Nay more, you wept, unpractis'd to betray,
I kiss'd your Cheeks, and wip'd the Tears away.
Might well deceive a captivated Swain;
Such strong Professions might Aversion charm,
Slow Doubt determine, and Indifference warm.
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I kiss'd your Cheeks, and wip'd the Tears away.
But if I tempting Gold unjustly blame,
And you have left me for another Flame;
May he, like you, seem kind, like you deceive,
And O may you, like cheated me, believe.
And you have left me for another Flame;
May he, like you, seem kind, like you deceive,
And O may you, like cheated me, believe.
Oft I by Night the Torch myself would bear,
That none our tender Converse might o'er-hear;
When least expected, oft some Youth I led,
A Youth all Beauty, to the genial Bed,
And tutor'd him your Conquest to complete,
By soft Enticements, and a fond Deceit.
That none our tender Converse might o'er-hear;
When least expected, oft some Youth I led,
A Youth all Beauty, to the genial Bed,
And tutor'd him your Conquest to complete,
By soft Enticements, and a fond Deceit.
By these I foolish hop'd to gain your Love!
Who than Tibullus could more cautious prove?
Fir'd with uncommon Powers I swept the Lyre,
And sent you melting Strains of soft Desire:
The Thought o'erspreads my Face with conscious Shame,
Doom, doom them Victims to the Seas or Flame.
No Verse be their's, who Love's soft Fires profane,
And sell inestimable Joys for Gain.
Who than Tibullus could more cautious prove?
Fir'd with uncommon Powers I swept the Lyre,
And sent you melting Strains of soft Desire:
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Doom, doom them Victims to the Seas or Flame.
No Verse be their's, who Love's soft Fires profane,
And sell inestimable Joys for Gain.
But you who first the lovely Maid decoy'd,
By each Adulterer be your Wife enjoy'd.
And when each Youth has rifled all her Charms,
May Bed-gowns guard her from your loathed Arms!
May she, O may she like your Sister prove,
As fam'd for drinking, far more fam'd for Love!
'Tis true, the Bottle is her chief Delight,
She knows no better Way to pass the Night;
Your Wife more knowing can the Night improve,
To Joys of Bacchus joins the Joys of Love.
By each Adulterer be your Wife enjoy'd.
And when each Youth has rifled all her Charms,
May Bed-gowns guard her from your loathed Arms!
May she, O may she like your Sister prove,
As fam'd for drinking, far more fam'd for Love!
'Tis true, the Bottle is her chief Delight,
She knows no better Way to pass the Night;
Your Wife more knowing can the Night improve,
To Joys of Bacchus joins the Joys of Love.
Think'st thou for thee, the Toilette is her Care?
For thee, that Fillets bind her well-dress'd Hair?
For thee, that Tyrian Robes her Charms enfold?
For thee, her Arms are deck'd with burnish'd Gold?
By these, some Youth the Wanton would intice,
For him she dresses, and for him she sighs;
To him she prostitutes, unaw'd by Shame,
Your House, your Pocket, and your injur'd Fame:
Nor blame her Conduct, say, ye Young, what Charms
Can Beauty taste in Gout and Age's Arms?
For thee, that Fillets bind her well-dress'd Hair?
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For thee, her Arms are deck'd with burnish'd Gold?
By these, some Youth the Wanton would intice,
For him she dresses, and for him she sighs;
To him she prostitutes, unaw'd by Shame,
Your House, your Pocket, and your injur'd Fame:
Nor blame her Conduct, say, ye Young, what Charms
Can Beauty taste in Gout and Age's Arms?
Less nice my Fair one, she for Money can
Caress a gouty impotent old Man;
O thou by generous Love, too justly blam'd!
All, all that Love could give, my Passion claim'd.
Yet since thou couldst so mercenary prove,
The more deserving shall engross my Love;
Then thou wilt weep when these ador'd you see;
Weep on, thy Tears will Transport give to me.
To Venus I'll suspend a golden Shield,
With this Inscription grav'd upon the Field.
Caress a gouty impotent old Man;
O thou by generous Love, too justly blam'd!
All, all that Love could give, my Passion claim'd.
Yet since thou couldst so mercenary prove,
The more deserving shall engross my Love;
Then thou wilt weep when these ador'd you see;
Weep on, thy Tears will Transport give to me.
To Venus I'll suspend a golden Shield,
With this Inscription grav'd upon the Field.
“Tibullus, freed at last from amorous Woes,
“This Offering, Queen of Bliss, on thee bestows:
“And humbly begs, that henceforth thou wilt guard
“From such a Passion, thy devoted Bard.”
“This Offering, Queen of Bliss, on thee bestows:
“And humbly begs, that henceforth thou wilt guard
“From such a Passion, thy devoted Bard.”
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THE ELEVENTH ELEGY.
[Who was the first that forg'd the deadly Blade?]
Who was the first that forg'd the deadly Blade?
Of rugged Steel his savage Soul was made;
By him, his bloody Flag Ambition wav'd;
And grisly Carnage thro' the Battle rav'd:
Yet wherefore blame him? we're ourselves to blame;
Arms first were forg'd to kill the savage Game:
Death-dealing Battles were unknown of old;
Death-dealing Battles took their rise from Gold:
When beachen Bowls, on oaken Tables stood,
When temperate Acorns were our Fathers food;
The Swain slept peaceful, with his Flocks around,
No Trench was open'd, and no Fortress frown'd.
Of rugged Steel his savage Soul was made;
By him, his bloody Flag Ambition wav'd;
And grisly Carnage thro' the Battle rav'd:
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Arms first were forg'd to kill the savage Game:
Death-dealing Battles were unknown of old;
Death-dealing Battles took their rise from Gold:
When beachen Bowls, on oaken Tables stood,
When temperate Acorns were our Fathers food;
The Swain slept peaceful, with his Flocks around,
No Trench was open'd, and no Fortress frown'd.
O had I liv'd in gentle Days like these,
To Love devoted, and to home-felt Ease;
Compell'd I had not been those Arms to wear,
Nor had the Trumpet forc'd me from the Fair:
But now I'm dragg'd to War, perhaps my Foe
E'en now prepares th'inevitable Blow!
To Love devoted, and to home-felt Ease;
Compell'd I had not been those Arms to wear,
Nor had the Trumpet forc'd me from the Fair:
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E'en now prepares th'inevitable Blow!
Come then, paternal Gods, whose Help I've known
From Birth to Manhood, still protect your Own,
Nor Blush, my Gods, tho' carv'd of antient Wood,
So carv'd in our Fore-fathers Times you stood;
And though in no proud Temples you were prais'd,
Nor foreign Incense on your Altars blaz'd;
Yet white-rob'd Faith conducted every Swain;
Yet meek-ey'd Piety seren'd the Plain;
While clustering Grapes, or Wheat-wreaths round your Hair,
Appeas'd your Anger, and engag'd your Care:
Or dulcet Cakes himself the Farmer paid,
When crown'd his Wishes by your powerful Aid;
While his fair Daughter, brought with her from home,
The luscious Offering of a honey-Comb:
If now you'll aid me in the Hour of need,
Your Care I'll recompence—a Boar shall bleed.
In White array'd I'll Myrtle Baskets bear,
And Myrtle Foliage, round my Temples wear:
In Arms redoutable let others shine,
By Mars protected mow the hostile Line;
You let me please, my Head with Roses crown,
And every Care in flowing Goblets drown;
Then when I'm joyous let the Soldier tell,
What Foes were captiv'd, and what Leaders fell;
Or on the Board describe with flowing Wine,
The furious Onset, and the flying Line.
For Reason whispers, Why will short-liv'd Man,
By War contract his too contracted Span?
Yet when he leaves the chearful Realms of Light,
No laughing Bowls, no Harvests cheer the Sight;
But howl the Damn'd, the triple Monster roars,
And Charon grumbles on the Stygian Shores:
By fiery Lakes, the blasted Phantoms yell,
Or shrowd their Anguish in the Depths of Hell.
From Birth to Manhood, still protect your Own,
Nor Blush, my Gods, tho' carv'd of antient Wood,
So carv'd in our Fore-fathers Times you stood;
And though in no proud Temples you were prais'd,
Nor foreign Incense on your Altars blaz'd;
Yet white-rob'd Faith conducted every Swain;
Yet meek-ey'd Piety seren'd the Plain;
While clustering Grapes, or Wheat-wreaths round your Hair,
Appeas'd your Anger, and engag'd your Care:
Or dulcet Cakes himself the Farmer paid,
When crown'd his Wishes by your powerful Aid;
While his fair Daughter, brought with her from home,
The luscious Offering of a honey-Comb:
If now you'll aid me in the Hour of need,
Your Care I'll recompence—a Boar shall bleed.
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And Myrtle Foliage, round my Temples wear:
In Arms redoutable let others shine,
By Mars protected mow the hostile Line;
You let me please, my Head with Roses crown,
And every Care in flowing Goblets drown;
Then when I'm joyous let the Soldier tell,
What Foes were captiv'd, and what Leaders fell;
Or on the Board describe with flowing Wine,
The furious Onset, and the flying Line.
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By War contract his too contracted Span?
Yet when he leaves the chearful Realms of Light,
No laughing Bowls, no Harvests cheer the Sight;
But howl the Damn'd, the triple Monster roars,
And Charon grumbles on the Stygian Shores:
By fiery Lakes, the blasted Phantoms yell,
Or shrowd their Anguish in the Depths of Hell.
In a thatch'd Cottage happier he by far,
Who never hears of Arms, of Gold, or War,
His chaste Embrace a numerous Offspring crown,
He courts not Fortune's Smile, nor dreads her Frown;
While lenient Baths at home his Wife prepares,
He, and his Sons, attend their fleecy Cares,
As old, as poor, as peaceful may I be,
So guard my Flocks, and such an Offspring see.
Who never hears of Arms, of Gold, or War,
His chaste Embrace a numerous Offspring crown,
He courts not Fortune's Smile, nor dreads her Frown;
While lenient Baths at home his Wife prepares,
He, and his Sons, attend their fleecy Cares,
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So guard my Flocks, and such an Offspring see.
Meantime, soft Peace, descend, O! bliss our Plains!
Soft Peace to plough with Oxen taught the Swains.
Peace plants the Orchard, and matures the Vine,
And first gay-laughing prest the ruddy Wine;
The Father quaffs, deep quaff his joyous Friends,
Yet to his Son a well-stor'd Vault descends.
Soft Peace to plough with Oxen taught the Swains.
Peace plants the Orchard, and matures the Vine,
And first gay-laughing prest the ruddy Wine;
The Father quaffs, deep quaff his joyous Friends,
Yet to his Son a well-stor'd Vault descends.
Bright shine the Plough-share, our Support and Joy!
But Rust, deep Rust, the Veteran's Arms destroy!
But Rust, deep Rust, the Veteran's Arms destroy!
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The Villager (his sacred offerings paid
In the dark Grove, and consecrated Shade,)
His Wife and Sons, now Darkness parts the Throng,
Drives home, and whistles, as he reels along.
Then triumphs Venus; then Love-feuds prevail;
The Youth all jealous then the Fair assail;
Doors, Windows fly, no Deference they pay,
The Chastest suffer in th'ungentle Fray:
These beat their Breasts, and melt in moving Tears;
The Lover weeps, and blames his Rage and Fears;
Love sits between, unmov'd with Tears and Sighs,
And with Incentives sly the Feud supplies.
In the dark Grove, and consecrated Shade,)
His Wife and Sons, now Darkness parts the Throng,
Drives home, and whistles, as he reels along.
Then triumphs Venus; then Love-feuds prevail;
The Youth all jealous then the Fair assail;
Doors, Windows fly, no Deference they pay,
The Chastest suffer in th'ungentle Fray:
These beat their Breasts, and melt in moving Tears;
The Lover weeps, and blames his Rage and Fears;
Love sits between, unmov'd with Tears and Sighs,
And with Incentives sly the Feud supplies.
Ye Youths, tho' stung with Taunts, of Blows beware;
They, they are impious, who can beat the Fair:
If much provok'd, or rend their silken Zone,
Or on their Tresses, be your Anger shown:
But if nor this your Passion can appease,
Until the Charmer weep, the Charmer teaze!
Blest Anger, if the Fair dissolves in Tears!
Blest Youth, her Fondness undisguis'd appears!
But crush the Wretch, O War, with all thy Woes,
Who to rough Usage adds the Crime of Blows.
They, they are impious, who can beat the Fair:
165
Or on their Tresses, be your Anger shown:
But if nor this your Passion can appease,
Until the Charmer weep, the Charmer teaze!
Blest Anger, if the Fair dissolves in Tears!
Blest Youth, her Fondness undisguis'd appears!
But crush the Wretch, O War, with all thy Woes,
Who to rough Usage adds the Crime of Blows.
Bland Peace descend, with Plenty on our Plains,
And bless with Ease and laughing Sport the Swains.
And bless with Ease and laughing Sport the Swains.
End of the First Volume.
| A Poetical Translation of the elegies of Tibullus | |