Lyric Poems Made in Imitation of the Italians. Of which, many are Translations From other Languages ... By Philip Ayres |
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A Hint from the Beginning of the Third Satyr of Juvenal
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 | Lyric Poems |  |
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A Hint from the Beginning of the Third Satyr of Juvenal
Laudo tamen vacuis quod sedem figere Cumis
Destinet, atque unum Civem donare Sibyllæ, &c.
Destinet, atque unum Civem donare Sibyllæ, &c.
A Neighbour, now, shall Aged Sibyl have,
For I'll withdraw to Cuma's Sacred Cave,
Where I, Vesuvius like, when Years attire
My Head with Snow, shall still maintain my Fire.
For I'll withdraw to Cuma's Sacred Cave,
Where I, Vesuvius like, when Years attire
My Head with Snow, shall still maintain my Fire.
In Hatred of the World my Days I'll spend,
Till with Despight my wretched Life shall end;
My haughty Plumes I've clipp'd, I'll soar no more,
So the Fates cut what they had spun before.
Till with Despight my wretched Life shall end;
My haughty Plumes I've clipp'd, I'll soar no more,
So the Fates cut what they had spun before.
I was when Bad, of Vertuous Men despis'd,
And by the Scourge Vice brings with it, chastis'd:
That Course I left, and turning good agen,
Was hated, and oppress'd by Wicked Men.
And by the Scourge Vice brings with it, chastis'd:
That Course I left, and turning good agen,
Was hated, and oppress'd by Wicked Men.
Thus seems the Partial World on all sides bent,
It's utmost Spight on wretched me to vent.
My Sins were fruitless: Must, when Life is done,
Vertue lye buried in Oblivion?
It's utmost Spight on wretched me to vent.
My Sins were fruitless: Must, when Life is done,
Vertue lye buried in Oblivion?
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