Haply at eafe, from ftudious toil fet free,
The day expiring as I rov'd at large,
The call of Vindex, hospitable friend!
Drew me to fupper; and within the mind
It refts yet unconfum'd. No feftive toys
Of dainty appetite we there devour'd,
Viands far-fetch'd, or wines of wondrous age.
Ah! wretched thofe, who nice difcernment boast
In crane or pheafant; tell how geefe grow large;
Why Umbrian boars by 'Tuscan are surpass'd;
And on what weeds the richest cockles reft!
Love and difcourfe, from Helicon deriv'd,
With focial pleasantry, led us to waste
The wintry hours, difcarding downy fleep,
Till a new Caftor from Elyfium rose,
last night's feast Aurora fmil'd.
Excellent night! would thou hadst match'd, in length,
That whence Alcides rofe! Thy joys deferve
Festivity's red mark and endless fame.
A thousand beauties there, of ivory wrought,
Of brass, and wax, with mimic life endow'd,
I learnt; for who, like Vindex, has an eye
That, feeing ancient artifts in their touch,
Reftores the author to the nameless work?
How the fine brass, elaborately wrought,
Speaks learned Myron's toil; how marble grace
Proclaims Praxiteles; whofe ivory charms
Quod Polycletæis juffum eft fpirare caminis,
Linea quæ veterem longe fateatur Apellem,
Monftrabit; namque hæc, quoties chelyn exuit ille,
Defidia eft; hic Aoniis amor avocat antris.
Hæc inter, caftæ Genius tutelaque menfæ
Amphitryoniades, multo mea cepit amore
Pectora, nec longo fatiavit lumina visu
Tantus honos operi, finefque inclufa per artos
Majeftas! Deus ille, Deus; fefeque videndum
Indulfit Lyfippe tibi, parvufque videri
Sentirique ingens, et cum mirabilis intra
Stet menfura pedem, tamen exclamare libebit,
(Si vifus per membra feras) hoc pectore preffus
Vaftator Nemees; hæc exitiale ferebant.
Robur, et Argoos frangebant brachia remos.
Hoc fpatio, tam magna, brevi, mendacia formæ !
Quis modus in dextra, quanta experientia docti
Artificis curis, pariter geftamina menfæ
Fingere, et ingentes animo verfare Coloffos?
Tale nec Idæis quicquam Telchines in antris,
Nec folidus Brontes, nec qui polit arma Deorum
Lemnius, exigua potuiffet ludere maffa.
Nec torva effigies epulifque aliena remiffis ;
Sed qualem parci domus admirata Molorchi,
Aut Aleæ lucis vidit Tegeæa facerdos :
Qualis ab Etæis emiffus in aftra favillis
Nectar adhuc torva lætus Junone bibebat :
Sic mitis vultus, veluti de pectore gaudens
Hortetur menfas, tenet hæc marcentia fratris
What drew its breath from Polycletus' forge,
And lines that own Apelles from afar,
He fhews: his paftime when he quits the lyre!
This paffion calls him from Aonian caves.
Of these, the guard and genius of the board,
Alcides, most with awful love infpir'd
My breast, and feasted my insatiate eyes.
Such grace adorns the work; in narrow bounds
Such majesty; the God, the present God,
Lyfippus! bleft thy fight. Small to be seen,
And mighty to be felt, within a foot
His wondrous ftature: yet may we exclaim,
Contemplating his limbs, "This bofom prefs'd
"The Nemean lion; and these arms,
"Endu'd with fatal force, the oars of Argo broke! "Can space fo brief belie so vast a form? "What skill and knowledge in thy hand and mind, "Great artift! thus to form the table's grace, "And in thy foul conceive colossal shapes! "Not the Telchines in Idæan caves,
"Nor Brontes, nor the Lemnian power who points "Arms for the gods, could thus minutely sport."
Not fierce this image, nor from feasts averse, But as ador'd, Molorchus! in thy hall;
Or in Tegæa, by his prieftefs feen,
Such as from Eta, rifen to the ftars.
Nectar he quaffs, and smiles at Juno's frown.
So mild his vifage, as with cordial joy
Prompting the banquet, in one hand he holds.
Pocula, at hæc clavæ meminit manus; afpera fedes
Suftinet, occultum Nemexo tegmine faxum.
Digna operi fortuna facro: Pellæus habebat
Regnator lætis numen venerabile menfis,
Et comitem Occafus fecum portabat et Ortus:
Prenfabatque libens modo qua diademata dextra
Abftulerat dederatque, et magnas verterat urbes.
Semper ab hoc animos in craftina bella petebat,
Huic acies Victor femper narrabat opimas,
Sive catenatos Bromio detraxerat Indos,
Seu claufam magna Babylona refregerat hasta,
Seu Pelopis terras libertatemque Pelafgam
Obruerat bello: magnoque ex agmine laudum
Fertur Thebanos tantum excufaffe triumphos.
Ille etiam, magnos Fatis rumpentibus actus,
Cum traheret letale merum, jam mortis opaca
Nube gravis, vultus altos in numine caro
Eraque fupremis tenuit fudantia menfis.
Mox Nafamoniaco decus admirabile regi Poffeffum; fortique Deo libavit honores Semper atrox dextra perjuroque enfe fuperbus Annibal. Italicæ perfufum fanguine gentis, Diraque Romuleis portantem incendia tectis Oderat, et cum epulas, et cum Lenæa dicaret Dona, Deus caftris mærens comes iffe nefandis. Præcipue cum facrilega face mifcuit arces Ipfius, immeritæque domos ac templa Sagunti Polluit, et populis furias immifit honeftas.
Nec poft Sidonii lethum ducis ære potita Egregio plebeia domus: convivia Syllæ
The goblet, one is mindful of his club,
The rock, his feat, his lion-veft conceals.
Due fortune grac'd the hallow'd work; fince first Pella's young victor, on his feftive board
Rever'd, and bore it to the west and east,
And clafp'd it in that hand which oft bestow'd,
Oft seiz'd a crown, and mighty cities crush'd.
This for the morrow's battle he invok'd;
To this, when Victor all his triumph told,
Whether from Bacchus' yoke he India freed,
Or the beleaguer'd Babylon o'erthrew ;
Or trampled on the liberties of Greece
Of all his numerous feats,
Only his Theban triumph fought excuse.
He, when the lates cut short his bright career,
The deadly cup exhaufted; and his brow,
Dark with Death's fhadow, on this foften'd bronze Fix'd his rais'd eyes, and prefs'd the focial god.
Next, as the treasure of the Libyan chief,
The ftatue fhone. The hand of Hannibal
Fierce and fallacious, new libations pour'd
To this brave power: but him, with Latian blood
Deform'd, and bearing defolating fire
'Gainft Rome, the god abhorr'd; and at his feaft
Mourn'd as the partner of an impious camp;
Then moft, when facrilegious he destroy'd
Herculean towers; and juft Saguntum's fhrines
Subverting, fir'd her fons to glorious rage.
The Punic chieftain dead, the hallow'd bronze Shar'd no plebeian house, but Sylla's feast
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