Lyric Poems Made in Imitation of the Italians. Of which, many are Translations From other Languages ... By Philip Ayres |
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A Pæan, or Song of Triumph, translated into a Pindaric; supposed to be of Alcæus, of Sappho, or of Praxilla the Sycionian.
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 | Lyric Poems |  |
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A Pæan, or Song of Triumph, translated into a Pindaric; supposed to be of Alcæus, of Sappho, or of Praxilla the Sycionian.
This Sword I'll carry in a Myrtle Bough,
It is my Trophy now;
Aristogiton, and Harmodius,
They bare it thus,
VVhen they the Tyrant had destroy'd,
Restoring Athens to those Liberties,
VVhich she so much does prize,
And which she anciently enjoy'd.
It is my Trophy now;
Aristogiton, and Harmodius,
They bare it thus,
VVhen they the Tyrant had destroy'd,
Restoring Athens to those Liberties,
VVhich she so much does prize,
And which she anciently enjoy'd.
O Dear Harmodius! Thou art not dead,
But in the Island of the Blest,
Dost live in Peace, and Rest:
For so 'tis sed,
Thou happy art in Company
Of swift Achilles, and fierce Diomede,
And dost Tydides see;
But in the Island of the Blest,
Dost live in Peace, and Rest:
For so 'tis sed,
Thou happy art in Company
Of swift Achilles, and fierce Diomede,
And dost Tydides see;
Therefore this Sword in a Green Myrtle Bough,
I carry as in Triumph now,
The brave Harmodius,
And fam'd Aristogiton bare it thus:
For when they had perform'd the Sacrifice,
To our great Patroness, Minerva, due,
They, as he in his Grandeur sate,
The Tyrant, Proud Hipparchus slew,
Who o'er th' Athenian State,
Without Pretence of Right, did tyrannize.
Eternal Honours you on Earth shall gain,
Aristogiton, and Harmodius!
You have the bloody Tyrant slain,
By which you do restore,
Your City to the Laws which govern'd it before.
I carry as in Triumph now,
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And fam'd Aristogiton bare it thus:
For when they had perform'd the Sacrifice,
To our great Patroness, Minerva, due,
They, as he in his Grandeur sate,
The Tyrant, Proud Hipparchus slew,
Who o'er th' Athenian State,
Without Pretence of Right, did tyrannize.
Eternal Honours you on Earth shall gain,
Aristogiton, and Harmodius!
You have the bloody Tyrant slain,
By which you do restore,
Your City to the Laws which govern'd it before.
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