網頁圖片
PDF
ePub 版

With fertile feed the fill'd the pervious earth,
And ever fix'd the myftic ways of birth.

Let thofe love now, who never lov'd before ;
Let those who always lov'd, now love the more.

'Twas the the parent to the Latian shore Through various dangers Troy's remainder bore, She won Lavinia for her warlike fon, And, winning her, the Latian empire won. She gave to Mars the maid, whole honour'd womb Swell'd with the founder of immortal Rome. Decoy'd by fhows, the Sabine dames fhe led, And taught our vigorous youth the way to wed. Hence fprung the Romans, hence the race divine Through which great Cæfar draws his Julian line.

[ocr errors]

Let thofe love now, who never lov'd before; Let thofe who always lov'd, now love the more.

In rural feats the foul of pleasure reigns; The life of beauty fills the rural scenes; Ev'n love (if fame the truth of love declare) Drew first the breathings of a rural air. Some pleafing meadow pregnant beauty preft, She laid her infant on its flowery breast, From Nature's fweets he fipp'd the fragrant dew, He fmil'd, he kiss'd them, and by kiffing grew. Let thofe love now, who never low'd before; Let those who always lov'd, now love the more.

Now buils o'er stalks of broom extend their fides,

Secure of favours from their lowing brides.
Now ftately rams their fleecy conforts lead,
Who bleating follow through the wandering fhade.
And now the goddess bids the birds appear,
Raife all the mufic, and falute the year:
Then deep the fwan begins, and deep the fong
Runs o'er the water where he fails along :
While Philomela turns a treble strain,
And from the poplar charm the listening plain,
We fancy love expreft at every note,
It melts, it warbles, in her liquid throat.
Of barbarous Fereus the complains no more,
But fings for pleasure, as for grief betore.
And fill her graces rife, her airs extend,
And all is filence till the Syren end.

How kng in coming is my lovely Spring!
And when fhall I, and when the fwallow fing?
Sweet Philomela, ceafe :-Or here Ufit,
And filent lose my rapturous hour of wit:
'Tis gone, the fit retires, the flames decay,
My tuneful Phoebus flies averfe away.
His own Amycle thus, as ftories run,
But once was filent, and that once undone.

Let thofe love now, who never lov'd before; Let thofe who always lev'd, now love the more.

[blocks in formation]
[ocr errors]

BOOK I.

To fill my rifing fong with facred fire,
Ye tuneful Nine, ye fweet celeftial quire!
From Helicon's embowering height repair,
Attend my labours, and reward my prayer;
The dreadful toils of raging Mars I write,
The fpring of conteft, and the fields of fight;
How threater ing mice advanc'd with warlike
grace,

And wag'd dire combats with the croaking race.
Not louder tumults fhook Olympus' towers,
When earth-born giants dar'd immortal powers.
Thefe equal acts an equal glory claim,
And thus the mufe records the tale of fame.

Once on a time, fatigued and out of breath,
And just escap'd the ftretching claws of death,
A gentle mouse, whom cats pursued in vain,
Fkdfwift of foot across the neighbouring plain,
Hung o'er a brink, his eager thirst too cool,
And dipp'd his whiskers in the standing pool;
When near a courteous frog advanc'd his head,
And from the waters, hoarse resounding, said,
What art thou, ftranger? what the line you
boaft?

What chance has call thee panting on our coaft?
With ftrictest truth let all thy words agree,
Nor let me find a faithlefs moufe in thee.
If worthy, friendship, poffer'd friendship take,
And entering view the pleasurable lake;
Range o'er my palace, in my bounty thare,
And glad return from hofpitable fare
This filver realm extends beneath my fway,
And me, their monarch, all its frogs obey.
Great Phyfignathus I, from Peleus' race,
Begot in fair Hydromede's embrace,
Where, by the nuptial bank that paints his fide,
The [wift Eridanus delights to glide. [claim
Thee too, thy form, thy ftrength, and port, pro-
A fcepter'd king; a fon of martial fanic;
Then trace thy line, and aid my gueffing eyes.
Thus ceas'd the frog, and thus the moule replies.
Known to the gods, the men, the birds that fly
Through wild expanfes of the midway sky,
My name refounds; and if unknown to thee,
The foul of great Plycarpax lives in me.
Of brave Troxartas' line, whofe fleeky down
In love comprefs'd Lychomile the brown.
My mother fhe, and princess of the plains
Where'er her father Pternotractas reigns.
Born where a cabbin lifts its airy fhed,
With figs, with nuts, with vary'd dainties fed.
But, fince our natures nought in common know,
From what foundation can a friendship grow?
Theic curling waters o'er thy palace roll;
Bet man's high food fupports my princely foul:
In vain the circled loaves attempt to lie
Conccal'd in flaskets from my curious eye.

In vain the tripe that boafts the whiteft hue,
In vain the gilded bacon fhuns my view,
In vain the cheefes, off-pring of the pail,
Or honey'd cakes, which gods themselves regale
And as in arts I fhine, in arms I fight,
Mix'd with the bravest, and unknown to flight,
Though large to mine, the hun an form appear,
Not man himself can fmite my foul with fear,
Sly to the bed with filent steps I go,
Attempt his finger, or attack his toe,
And fix indented wounds with dextrous skill,
Sleeping he feels, and only feems to feel.
Yet have we foes which direful dangers caufe,
Grim owls with talons arm'd, and cats with claws,
And that falfe trap, the den of filent fate,
Where death his ambush plants around the bait :
All dreaded these, and dreadful o'er the rest
The potent warriors of the tabby vest,
If to the dark we fly, the dark they trace,
And rend our heroes of the nibbling race,
But me, nor ftaiks nor waterish herbs delight,
Nor can the crimfon radifh charm my fight,
The lake-refounding frogs felected fare,
Which not a mufe of any tafte can bear.

As thus the downy prince his mind exprest,
His answer thus the croaking king addrest:

Thy words luxuriant on thy dainties rove, And, stranger, we can boast of bounteous Jove: We fport in water, or we dance on land, And, born amphibious, food from both command. But truft thyself where wonders afk thy view, And fafely temp thofe feas, I'll bear thee through: Afcend my fhoulders, firmly keep thy feat, And reach my marthy court, and feast in state. He faid, and bent his back; with nimble boundLeaps the light moufe, aud clafps his arms around, Then wondering floats, and fees with glad furvey I he winding banks refembling ports at fea But when aloft the curling water rides, And wets with azure wave his downy fides, His thoughts grow conscious of approaching woe, His idle tears with vain repentance flow, His locks he rends, his trembling feet he rears, Thick beats his heart with unaccuftom'd fears; He fighs, and, chill'd with danger, longs for fhore: His tail extended, forms a fruitlefs oar, Half drench'd in liquid death his prayers he fpake, And thus bemoan'd him from the dreadful lake: So país'd Europa through the rapid sea, Trembling and fainting all the venturous way; With oary feet the bull triumphant rode, And fafe in Crete depos'd his lovely load. Ab, fafe at laft, may thus the frog support My trembling limbs to reach his ample court! As thus he forrows, death ambiguous grows, Lo from the deep a water-hydra rofe;

To make her fenfe with double charms abound,
Or make her lively nonfenfe please by found.

To drefs the maid the decent graces brought
A robe in all the dies of beauty wrought,
And plac'd their boxes o'er a rich brocade,
Where pictur'd loves on every cover play'd;
Then fpread thofe implements that Vulcan's art
Had fram'd to merit Cytherea's heart;
The wire to curl, the close indented comb
To call the locks, that lightly wander, home;
And chief, the mirror, where the ravish'd maid
Beholds and loves her own reflected fhade.

Fair Flora lent her ftores; the purpled hours
Confin'd her treffes with a wreath of flowers;
Within the wreath arofe a radiant crown;
A veil pellucid hung depending down;
Back roll'd her azure veil with ferpent fold,
The purfled border deck'd the floor with gold.
Her robe (which clofely by the girdle brac'd
Reveal'd the beauties of a flender waist)
Flow'd to the feet, to copy Venus' air,
When Venus' ftatues have a robe to wear.
The new-fprung creature, finif'd thus for harms,
Adjufts her habit, practises her charms,
With blushes glows, or fhines with lively fmiles,
Confirms her will, or recollects her wiles :
Then, confcious of her worth, with easy pace
Glides by the glafs, and turning views her face.

A finer flax than what they wrought before, Through time's deep cave, the fifter fates explore, Then fix the loom, their fingers nimbly weave, And thus their toil prophetic fongs deceive.

Flow from the rock, my flax! and fwiftly flow, Purfue thy thread; the fpindle runs below. A creature fond and changing, fair and vain, The creature woman, rifes now to reign. New beauty blooms, a beauty form'd to fly; New love begins, a love produc'd to die; New parts diftrefs the troubled feenes of life, The fondling miftrefs, and the ruling wife.

Men born to labour, all with pains provide;
Women have time to facrifice to pride:
They want the care of man, their want they know,
And drefs to pleafe with heart-alluring fhow;
The fhow prevailing, for the fway contend,
And make a fervant where they meet a friend.
Thus in a thoufand wax-erected forts
A loitering race the painful bee fupports;
From fun to fun, from bank to bank he flies,
With honey loads his bag, with wax his thighs;
Fly where he will, at home the race remain,
Prune the filk dress, and murmuring eat the
gain.

Yet here and there we grant a gentle bride,
Whose temper betters by the father's fide;
Unlike the ref that double human care,
Fond to relieve, or refolute to fhare:
Happy the man whom thus his stars advance!
The curfe is general, but the bleffing chance.

Thus fung the fifters, while the gods admire
Their beauteous creature, made for man in ire;
The young Pandora fhe, whom all contend
To make too perfect not to gain her end:
Then bid the winds, that fly to breathe the spring,
Return to bear her on a gentle wing;

With wafting airs the winds obfequious blow,
And land the fhining vengeance fafe below.
A golden coffer in her hand the bore,
The prefent treacherous, but the bearer more;
'Twas fraught with pangs; for Jove ordain'd above,
That gold should aid, and pangs attend on love.
Her gay defcent the man perceiv'd afar,
Wondering he ran to catch the falling ftar:
But fo furpris'd, as none but he can tell,
Who lov'd fo quickly, and who lov'd so well.
O'er all his veins the wandering paffion burns,
He calls her nymph, and every nymph by turns.
Her form to lovely Venus he prefers,

Or fwears that Venus' must be fuch as hers.

She, proud to rule, yet strangely fram'd to teaze,
Neglects his offers while her airs fhe plays,
Shoots fcornful glances from the bended frown,
In brifk dilorder trips it up and down;
Then hums a careleis tune to lay the ftorm,
And fits, and bluthes, fmiles, and yields, in form.
"Now take what Jove defign'd, the foftly
cry'd,

"This box thy portion, and myself the bride."
Fir'd with the profpect of the double charms,'
He fnatch'd the box, and bride, with eager arms.
Unhappy man! to whom so bright the thone,
The fatal gift, her tempting feif, unknown!
The winds were filent, all the waves afleep,
And heaven was trac'd upon the flattering deep
But, whilst he looks unmindful of a storm,

And thinks the water wears a fìable form,
What dreadful din around his ears fhall rife!
What frowns confufe his picture of the fkies!

At first the creature man was fram'd alone,
Lord of himself, and all the world his own.
For him the nymphs in green forfok the woods,
For him the nymphs in blue forfook the floods;
In vain the fatyrs rage, the tritons rave,
They bore him heroes in the fecrct cave.
No care defroy'd, no fick diforder prey'd,
No bending age his fprightly form decay'd,
No wars were known, no females heard to rage,
And, poets tell us, 't was a golden age.

When woman came, thofe ills the box confin'd Burst furious out, and poifon`d all the wind, From point to point, from pole to pole they flew, Spread as they went, and in the progrefs grew : The nymphs regretting left the mortal race, And altering nature wore a fickly face: New terms of folly rofe, new states of care; New plagues, to fuffer, and to please, the fair! The days of whining, and of wild intrigues, Commeric'd, or finish'd, with the breach of leagues; The mean defigns of well-diffembled love; The fordid matches never join'd above; Abroad the labour, and at home the noise, (Man's double fufferings for domestic joys) The curfe of jealoufy; expence and ftrife; Divorce, the public brand of fhameful life; The rival's fword; the qualm that takes the fair; Difdain for paffion, paffion in despairThese, and a thousand yet unnam'd, we find; Ah fear the thousand yet unnam'd behind!

Thus on Parnaffus tuneful Hefiod fung, The mountain ccheed, and the valley rung,

The facred groves a fix'd attention how,' The crystal Helicon forbore to flow,

The fky grew bright, and (if his verse be true)
The mules came to give the laurel too.
But what avail'd the verdant prize of wit,
If love fwore vengeance for the tales he writ?
Ye fair offended, hear your friend relate
What heavy judgment prov'd the writer's fate,
Though when it happen'd no relation clears,
'Tis thought in five, or five and twenty years.

Where, dark and filent, with a twisted fhade
The neighbouring woods a native arbour made,
There oft a tender pair, for amorous play
Retiring, toy'd the ravish'd hours away;
A Locrian youth, the gentle Troilus he,
A fair Milefian, kind Evanthe she:
Bat fwelling nature in a fatal hour
Betray'd the fecrets of the confcious bower;
The dire difgrace her brothers count their own,
And track her steps, to make its author known.

It chanc'd one evening, 't was the lover's day,
Conceal'd in brakes the jealous kindred lay;
When Hefiod, wandering, mus'd along the plain,
And fix'd his feat where love had fix'd the scene;
Aftrong fufpicion ftrait poffefs their mind
(For Poets ever were a gentle kind),
But when Evanthe near the paffage ftood,
Flung back a doubtful look, and fhot the wood,
દ Now take (at once they cry) thy due reward."
And, urg'd with erring rage, affault the bard.
His corpfe the fea receiv'd." The dolphins bore
('Twas all the gods would do) the corple to fhore.
Methinks I view the dead with pitying eyes,
And fee the dreams of ancient wifdom rife;
1 fee the mufes round the body cry,
But hear a cupid loudly laughing by;
He wheels his arrow with infulting hand,
And thus infcribes the moral on the fand.

Here Hefiod lies: ye future bards, beware
How far your moral tales incenfe the fair.
Uslov'd, unloving, 't was his fate to bleed;
Without his quiver, Cupid caus'd the deed:
He judg'd this turn of malice juftly due,
"And Hefiod dy'd for joys he never knew."

[ocr errors][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small]

And thus, might I gratify both, I would do: Still an angel appear to each lover befide, But ftill be a woman to you.

SONG.

THYRSIS, a young and amorous fwain,
Saw two, the beauties of the plain,
Who both his heart fubdue:
Gay Celia's eyes were dazzling fair,
Sabina's eafy fhape and air

With fofter magic drew.

He haunts the fream, he haunts the grove, Lives in a fond romance of love,

And feems for each to die; Till, each a little spiteful grown, Sabina Calia's fhape ran down, And the Sabina's eye.

Their envy made the shepherd find Those eyes which love could only blind; So fet the lover free:

No more he haunts the grove or stream, Or with a true-love knot and nante Engraves a wounded tree.

Ah, Cælia! fly Sabina cry'd, Though neither love, we're both deny'd; Now to fupport the fex's pride,

Let either fix the dart.

Poor girl, fays Cælia, fay no more; For fhould the fwain but one adore, That fpite, which broke his chains before, Would break the other's heart.

SONG.

LOVE AND INNOCENCE.

My day have been fo wondrous free,
The little birds, that fly
With careless eafe from tree to tree,
Were but as blefs'd as I.

Afk gliding waters, if a tear

Of mine increas'd their ftream? Or ask the flying gales, if e'er I lent one figh to them?

But now my former days retire, And I'm by beauty caught, The tender chains of fweet defire Are fix'd upon my thought.

Ye nightingales, ye twifling pines!
Ye fwains that haunt the grove!
Ye gentle echoes, breezy winds!
Ye clofe retreats of love!

1

[blocks in formation]

WHEN fpring came on with fresh delight,
To cheer the foul, and charm the fight,
While eafy breezes, fofter rain,
And warmer fans, falute the plain;
"Twas then, in yonder piny grove,
That nature went to meet with love.

Green was her robe, and green her wreath,
Where'er fhe trod, 'twas green beneath;
Where'er the turn'd, the pulfes beat
With new recruits of genial heat;
And in her train the birds appear,
To match for all the coming year.
Rais'd on a bank where daifies grew,
And violets intermix'd a blue,
She finds the boy fhe went to find;
A thousand pleasures wait behind,
Afide, a thousand arrows lie,
But all unfeather'd, wait to fly.

When they met, the dame and boy,
Dancing graces, idle joy,
Wanton fimiles, and airy play
Confpir'd to make the scene be gay;

Love pair'd the birds through all the grove,
And nature bid them fing to love,
Sitting, hopping, fluttering, fing,
And pay their tribute from the wing,
To fledge the fhafts that idly lie,
And yet unfeather'd wait to fly

'Tis thus, when fpring renews the blood,
They meet in every trembling wood,
And thrice they make the plumes agree,
And every dart they mount with three,
And every dart can boast a kind,
Which fuits each proper turn of mind.
From the towering eagle's plume
The generous hearts accept their doom;
Shot by the peacock's painted eye,
The vain and airy lovers die :
For careful dames and frugal men,
The fhafts are fpeckled by the hen.
The pyes and parrots deck the darts,
When prattling wins the panting hearts;
When from the voice the paffions fpring,
The warbling finch affords a wing:
Together, by the sparrow ftung.
Down fall the wanton and the young:

And fledg'd by geefe the weapons fly,
When others love they know not why
All his (as late I chanc'd to rove)
I learn'd in yonder waving grove,
And fee, fays love, who call'd me near,
How much I deal with nature here;
How both fupport a proper part,
She gives the feather, I the dart:
Then ceafe for fouls averfe to figh,
If nature crofs you, fo do I;
My weapon there unfeather'd flies,
And shakes and fhuffles through the skies.
But if the mutual charms I find

By which the links you mind to mind,
They wing my fhafts, I poize the darts,
And ftrike from both, through both your hearts,

[blocks in formation]
« 上一頁繼續 »