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SELECT ODES
A N A C R E O N,
cRITICAL ANNOTATIONs.
T O W HICH A R E A D D, E D
TRANSLATIONS AND IMITATIONS
• OF O T H E R
ANCIENT A U THORS.
By THE LATE Rev. HERCULES YOUNGE,
And published by the Rev. Rob ERT DR ought.
*—
/ . /*
II:00 'Awangsforts avyāorero.—ANTHOL. .
LONDON.
PRINTED, for VERNOR AND HO OD, POULTRY,
By James Swan, Angel Street, Newgate Street,
tº º
*sº
1802,
y
3.
g
4. Y13
*~~ § {-
tº, U → R
TO THE
R. I G H T H O N O U R A B L E,
THE EAR L OF MOIRA,
My Lo R.D,
HAv ING long contemplated the cha-
racter of Earl Moira with silent, though
sincere veneration, it is impossible for
me to resist profiting by the opportunity
which the publication of these posthu-
mous papers, of a near and dear rela-
tive, affords, of testifying it to the
world, by inscribing them to a noble-
man, who has taste to appreciate, and
knowledge to distinguish, their merits:
and it is a highly gratifying circumstance
to find, that, though I am not prepared,
a 2
iv D EDICATION,
or, I fear, competent, to make this ma-
nifestation by my own talents, yet I shall
not go out of my family to assure your
lordship, that I am
Your very obedient,
humble servant,
Rob ERT DRou GHT.
Claines, Worcester,
8th of May, 1802.
P. R. E. F. A C E.
IT is easier to imagine than to describe the
pleasure I felt on receiving my friend Mr.
Pratt's opinion, confirming my own, and that
of various others, whom I had consulted,
upon the Anacreontics, translated by my
learned and ingenious relative; more espe-
cially, as they could not have received any
bias in their judgement from the partiality
that might naturally be supposed to influence
mine. And, yet, had no such endearing af-
finity subsisted between me and the author,
I am persuaded I should have thought and
felt, as I expressed myself, on the high me-
rits of the translations : and I am particu-
larly proud, that my friends in general sanc-
tion my idea of there being greater delicacy,
and, if I may use the terms of one of the
most ingenious and learned of those friends,
“ the warmeſt glow of passion, shaded by a
lovelier modesty in such of the odes as re-
vi PR EFACE.
quired it.” Though it must have been by
a very skilful hand that these chastening
touches were given, without injury to that
rich and joyous imagery which characterises
the Grecian bard.
“A chaste yet animated selection of the
captivating Odes of the Teian bard,” (ob-
serves Mr. Pratt, in a letter now before me)
“giving, in a fashionable pocket volume, the
BEAUTIES of Anacreon, in a liberal, yet
guarded, translation, so as to preserve the de-
lightful sport, the jovial sentiments, and play-
ful spirit of the original, without bringing
forward any thing that o'ersteps the bounds
of modesty, appears to be a desideratum in
\ºm poetry.
“The majority of the notes will be grati-
fying chiefly to those who are intimate with
the Greek; yet, besides that the commentary
is too valuable to be lost, it seems expe-
dient to admit this estimable addition, with-
out swelling the size, or increasing the price
of the book, by printing the original text to
each ode. These illustrations not only throw
an agreeable and general light upon the sub-
PR E | AC E. vii
ject and the author, that may assist the En-
glish reader, but present the learned with op-
portunities of reference, augmenting at the
same time the reputation of the erudite trans-
lator.”
I will now own, that my sense of the ex-
cellence of these selections, aided, no doubt,
by my sincere respect for the translator, has
long inspired a latent wish to extend the plea-
sure I received, by making them public.—I
can, therefore, scarcely help repeating the
degree of gratification I experience from the
zeal with which the friend, above-mentioned,
offers to assist me in arranging the manu-
scripts, an offer, of which I have availed
myself with the utmost alacrity: and I have
endeavoured, at his request, to collect such
little memorabilia of the translator, as my
own memory, or that of my friends, can
furnish.
AN
A C C O U N T
OF
T H E T R A N SLATO R.
HE account of the ingenious and learned author
f the following translation, the late Reverend,
ERCULes YouNGE, is very scanty of materials.
is grandmother was daughter of the illustrious,
ut unfortunate Montmorenci, High Constable of
rance; who, after the revocation. of the famous
dict of Nantes, was imprisoned as a Hugonot.
The violent and indignant exertions of this eminent
*renchman, to prevent his enemies from loading
him with chains, occasioned the rupture of a blood-
essel, which quickly terminated his sufferings and
is life.
The daughter of Montmorenci married Le Jeune,
Hugonot gentleman of high distinction, who,
reading lest his son Lewis (the father of our Au-





A CCOUNT OF
thor) should imbibe the popish religion, sent him
privately to Holland. From thence he was invited
to Ireland by his maternal uncle, the pious Dr
Drelincourt, who was appointed to the deanery of
Armagh by William the Third, and is well known
to the literary world by his celebrated treatise on
Death.
On the arrival of Lewis in Ireland, he translated his
name, LeJeune, to its English equivalent “Younge,
and was entered a fellow commoner of Trinity Col
lege, Dublin, where he was educated at his uncle'
expense. His grandmother, who remained i
France, had appointed him heir to her splendi
fortunes: but, before she could procure an agent o
approved integrity, she was seised by a violent dis".
order, which obliged her to intrust the whole of he
immense property to the care of a popish priest
who, after solemnly promising to convey it to hek
grandson Lewis, fraudulently converted the rich
prize to his own use, asserting, that it was contrar
to the dictates of his tender conscience to give sº
much money to a heretic.
This was not the only loss, great as it might be
which our author's father had to lament; for,
about the same time, he was deprived of the as
sistance and friendship of his uncle, whom he had
disobliged by an early marriage with a lady of grea






*
j THE TRAN 6LATOR, xi
|
beauty and accomplishments, but not of equal rank,
—an offence rarely forgiven by ambitious or avari-
“ious parents.
Thus circumstanced, he was thrown on his lite-
ary talents for support. But, possessing a brilliant
º genius, highly improved by academical edu-
cation, his pen readily procured him a handsome
ubsistence, so long as the Earl of Chesterfield pre-
ided as chief governor of Ireland. During that
splendid aera, Mr. Younge published a poem, en-
titled, “ The Levee.” The easy, flowing numbers,
ointed satire, delicate irony, and polished wit of
his little piece, strongly recommended him to his
lordship's notice. The earl presented him to the
nly church-preferment vacant during his adminis-
ration, and obtained for him, from his successor, a
romise of the first bishoprick that should fall in his
ift. These gracious intentions were frustrated by
r. Younge's unexpected death: and it is to be re-
retted, that an intereſting literary correspondence
etween Lord Chesterfield and Mr. Younge has
een lost.
Mr. Younge's eldest son (our author) was edu-
ated at the university of Dublin, where he was
eminently distinguished for his literary talents, and
the strict propriety of his conduct. When or-
'dained, the Bishop of Waterford, at the desire of Lord

º
xii A CCO UNT, &c.
Chesterfield, who still extended to him his patronage
gave him a valuable living in his diocese. Mr.
Younge usually resided at Carrick on Suir, where
his time was divided between study, and the cont
scientious discharge of his parochial duties. Dr.
Newton, late bishop of Bristol, acknowledges him
self indebted to our author for several ingenious
hints, in his well-known Dissertations on the i.
phecies. |
Mr. Younge remained in retirement, greatly rº-
spected by all who had the pleasure of his acquaint
ance. He was usually called the Christian Sof
crates, on account of his uncommon patience in
cheerfully submitting to a wife whose temper pro
cured her the appellation of a second Xanthippe.—
and languished for many years under a painful disſ
ease; yet he bore his misfortunes with that piou
resignation, which, by precept and example, he ha
always enforced on the minds of his parishioners-
He died the 14th of January, 1798, aged 77; ad
mired for his talents, and revered for his virtues.




THE
LIFE OF ANACREON.
—º-—
-º-
. .º
|
NAcReoN, a Greek poet, was born at Teos, a
sea-port of Ionia. Madame Dacier endeavours to
rove from Plato, that he was a kinsman of
Splon, and consequently allied to the Codridae,
the noblest family in Athens; but this is not suf-
jº, supported. The time when he flourished
is ancertain ; Eusebius placing it in the 62d, Suidas
the 52d, and Mr. Le Fèvre in the 72d, Olym-
piad. He is said to have been about eighteen years
ge, when Harpagus, the general of Cyrus, came
, chose rather to abandon their country than
ir liberty; and, getting a fleet together, trans-
ported themselves and their families to the coast of
France, where, being hospitably received by Nan-
nus, king of the country, they built Marseilles.
The Teians soon followed their example; for, Har-
págus having made himself master of their walls,
they unanimously went on board their ships, and,
, sailing to Thrace, fixed themselves in the city




xiv LIFE OF ANACR EO N.
*
Abdera. They had not been there long, when the
Thracians, jealous of their new neighbours, endea-
voured to give them disturbance; and in these cor-
flicts it seems to have been, that Anacreon lost those
friends whom he celebrates in his epigrams. This
poet had certainly a most delicate wit, but was too
fond of pleasures; for love and wine had the dis-
posal of all his hours. Ovid himself, though do
great a libertine, censures Anacreon for devotºg
his Muse entirely to Bacchus and Venus:
Quid, nisicum multo Venerem confundere vino,
Praecepit lyrici Teja musa senis P
Anacreon left Abdera, and went to the court bf
Polycrates, at Samos, where he was received wºh
great marks of friendship ; and it was here he ble-
came enamoured with the handsome Bathylliks,
whom Horace mentions in the following passage;
Non aliter Samio dicunt arsisse Bathyllo |
Anacreonta Terum,
Qui persaepe cavá testudine flevit amorem.
He is said also to have loved the fair Cleobulilis,
whom he had like to have killed, when a child, in
the arms of his nurse, by rudely running againkst
her, as he reeled one day through the streets in fi-
quor; and, not content with this, he abused the
child with scurrilous language. But the nurse
LIFE OF AN ACR EO N, XV
wished he might one day commend him as much as
he had then abused him : and her wishes were ful-
filled ; for, Cleobulus growing to be a beautiful
youth, Anacreon fell in love with him, and wrote
several verses in his praise. AElian has endea-
voured to clear Anacreon from the suspicion of en-
tertaining any dishonourable passion for these
youths; but the general charge against him, in this
respect, is strong. How long Anacreon continued
at Samos, is uncertain; but it is probable he re-
ained there during the greatest part of the reign
of Polycrates; for Herodotus assures us that Ana-
reon was with that prince in his chamber, when
e received a message from Oroetes, governor of
ardis, by whose treachery Polycrates was soon af-
er betrayed, and inhumanly crucified. It seems
to have been a littke before this, that Anacreon left
Samos, and removed to Athens; having been in-
vited thither by Hipparchus, the eldest son of Pi—
sistratus, one of the most virtuous and learned
rinces of his time; who, as Plato assures us, sent
| obliging letter, with a vessel of fifty oars, to
onvey him over the AEgaean sea. After Hippar-
|chus was slain by the conspiracy of Harmodius and
Ainºgiº Anacreon returned to Teos, where he
remained till the revolt of Histiaeus, when he was
|obliged once more to remove to Abdera, where he

|
xvi. LIFE OF AN ACR EO N .
died. The manner of his death is said to have
been very extraordinary; for they tell us he was |
choked with a grape-ſtone, which he swallowed, as
he was regaling on some new wine. A small part
only of Anacreon's works remains. Besides odes 4.
and epigrams, he composed elegies, hymns, and ,
iambics: the poems which are extant, consist
chiefly of Bacchanalian songs and love-sonnets.
They have been frequently printed; but the prin- }
cipal editions are, that of Madame Dacier, with
a French version, at Paris, 1682, in 12mo; and that
of Joshua Barnes, of Cambridge, 1705, in 12mo.
The Odes of Anacreon, says Rapin, are flowers, beau-
ties, and perpetual graces; it is familiar to him to
write what is natural, and to the life; having an
air so delicate, so easy, and so graceful, that, among
all the ancients, there is nothing comparable to him
e flows soft and easy, every=where diffusing the
joy and indolence of his mind through his verse.
and tuning his harp to the smooth and pleasanº
jº. littleſ
god of love, as taught to speak by Mr. Cowley:
Aſl thy verse is softer far
Than the downy feathers are
Of my wings, or of my arrows,
Of my mother’s doves and sparrows; ,
Graceful, cleanly, smooth, and round,
All with Venus’ girdle bound.





A N A C R E O N.
O DE I*.
O N H J S L Y R. E.
I Long to sing of glorious spoils,
Of Cadmus’ acts, Atrides' toils,
And higher flights to prove;
Yet see, the stubborn lyre deniest,
* This seems to make a good preface to the
following Odes; for I cannot discover, as Mr. Barnes
has done, any kind of sublimity in them. &
+ Bapººrog.] We find this noun in every gen-
der; sometimes à, sometimes à, and sometimes to
Gatºrrow.—The latest critic on these Odes, whom I
have seen, is a Monsieur Pauw, the most insolent,
abusive, and dogmatical writer upon earth. He
treats Barnes as if he was a remarkable blockhead.
R
2
Rejects my wish'd attempts to rise,
And all its notes are love.
For this I chang'd my ev'ry string*,
Resolv'd Herculean might to sing,
But impotently strove:
It is true that Barnes was not thought to have much
taste for poetry, since he tells us that the wits of
his university applied to him the proverb Ovoº ºrpo;
Avpay, when busied about his version; but he retort-
ed, by saying, no, I am not Ovoº, but you want & vov;
orpo; Avgow, which seems like a pun, though I believe
it was undesigned. However, both as to taste and a
knowledge of the Greek language, he was certainly
not inferior to M. Pauw.
* Huerpoºj I changed my strings and the whole
tyre, i. e. as Barnes justly observes, I changed
Collabos, verticulos, pectinem, &c. but Pauw says
the poet took a different lyre. Pro (yra, quam an-
tea habebam, aliam lyram sums?—qui nervos mtat,
alios Sumit pro aliis; sic similiter, qui ſyrum mutat,
aliam Sumit pro alia.—For what purpose should
Anacreon change the strings of an instrument, if he
did not intend to use it? Why in the forty-eighth
Ode does he call for Homer's lyre, but powly; wivºs
*
Ǻ
J
The lyre, rebellious, gave a tone,
r
For tender themes attun’d alone;
And all its notes were love.
Xop?n;, without the bloody string, if strings were
not changed for different tones 2 Beside, it seems
evident from the whole ode, that the prosopopaia
cannot be transferred, from the lyre which our bard
constantly made use of, to another; for, says he, I
attempted epic poetry, but my lyre refused ; and
though I changed the strings and the whole lyre, yet
still it opposed my design. Now, if he took a second,
we must sure believe that it was 3.2 porizio X:0px;,
with bloody strings: and is it poetical justice to ima-
gine, that a lyre would refuse tones for which it was
contrived, and to which it was ever accustomed 2 As
to the phrases, my whole lyre is changed, the whole
country is changed, the man is quite changed, or be-
come a new man, and such like, in the sense of much
altercd, they are frequent in every language.
It seems to have been the practice formerly to
use strings of different sizes for different subjects:
and J suppose that strong and thick ones, in the
forty-eighth Ode, above quoted, are meant by the
bloody strings; for, of several tuned unisons, the
thickest, ox necessity, is the loudest,
4. *
Adieu then, flatt’ring hope, adieu! -
I quit the great but dang'rous view,
As far my lyre above;
It strongly warns, it cries, “resign
$
“The swelling sound, the touch divine,’
z
And plays alone to love.
G
ODE II.
O N W O M E N.
NATURE arm'd the bull with horn;
Bid strong hoofs the steed adorn;
Swiftness lent the tim'rous hare;
Lions might, and teeth severe;
Fishes made to skim the wave;
Birds the passive air to cleave;
Last, to man, superior sense *
Gave, for weapons and defence.
* Prudentiam viris dat. Steph. Animositas et
bellica virtus. Barnes. Praeter prudentiam, constan-
tia et robur; balbutiunt interpretes, nam sola pruden-
tia, Sola virtus.bellica non sufficit. Pauw. I cannot
think that robur was ever included in pºornua; and
the version of Barnes does not seem to agree with
his annotation; for, says he, utut leones, per se, etiam
supra homines sint magnanimi, non raro tamen hi etiam
illos aggredi audent, arte nempe bellica et venatica
6
Thus her store of bounty drain'd”,
What for woman yet remain'd?
instructi. Si quis hic prudentiam velit designari, om-
nino ill; ppávnow legendum, non ºpóvoaz. Certainly
prudence is necessary, if we design to attack a lion.
Indeed the meaning of Anacreon is so clear, that the
dispute does not seem to be very material; for, since
both ©fºrmuz and @pºols are derived 37% tº @povitz,
reason must be intended, in whatever manner ap-
plied. I have seen it observed, but cannot recollect
by what author, that ppánais denotes a speculative,
and pºmuz a practical, prudence.
* Tvr&#6, z. T. A.] Literally, Nothing remained for
women. I’auw attempts here to be very severe;
this thought, says he, is frigida et inepta. An omnia
qua excellunt igitur jam enumerata ? absit, absit; ubi,
exempli gratia, est astutia vulpibus tributa ? &c.—
Addam aliud : ipse bonus 32bi contradicit; nam ubi
direrat, naturam nihil habuisse amplius quod langire-
tur feminis, eodem fere spiritu pulchritudinem promit
—hoc est, eodem ore calidum et frigidum efflare simul.
With this Mr. Barnes agrees; for those, he thinks,
who render ºpómuz prudence, nimis injurić sunt mull-
cbr; sexui. Hence it appears, that, according to
the sentiments of our critics, the word nothing must
always strictly denote non-entity, or, according to
7
Beauty, captivating charms,
Pow’rful o'er the force of arms—
the vulgar phraseology, Nothing at all ; whereas
all things, all men, nothing, no man, and such-like
expressions, are generally used for most, or few, in
every language. In my apprehension, the poet says
only, that Nature had but a few things remaining,
out of which she could make a choice. Pauw goes
on—sed quidº an pulchritudo non communis quoque
illis (viris), et ut mulêeres sunt pulchra, 3ta mares
etiam sunt pulchrif de eo non dubitandum.—Very
true sometimes: yet methinks that he should not
forgethorses, since a fine horse is doubtless a beautiful
creature. Is it not sufficient, in such an ode as this,
to describe any person or thing by a characteristic *
but if a characteristic means only a property or qua-
lity which some being, or species of beings, has in
exclusion of all others, I suppose that a proper cha-
racteristic is not to be found in the whole creation;
fishes, bats, insects, &c. fly; birds, beasts, &c.
swim, and this kind of connexion is plainly ob-
servable through all the world. Our inimitable
Milton gives the following description of Adam and
Eve :
For contemplation he, and valour, form'd;
For softness she, and sweet attractive grace,
8
Beauty, whose imperial sway
Fire, and steel, and all obey!
Though some men are handsome, and some wo-
men contemplative or resolute, I believe that no
reader ever thought these epithets injurious to either
sex, or found any sort of impropriety in them. The
ladies are very properly, in our language, zor’ ičºv,
styled the Fair. However, Pauw strikes Opposi-
tion dumb, by adding, qui non sentit hatc inepta esse,
et male coagmentata, nihil revera sentit; which is his
general proof on all occasions. It is to be hoped
that we may understand nihil here in the limited
sense which I have given to it, though strengthened
by the additional word revera; otherwise, a reader
is told, that if he doth not perceive the justice of our
critic's remarks, he is, strictly speaking, a mere
block, and totally void of all perception.
O D E III.
ON CUPID.
'Twas now midnight, the rain severe;
By slow Boötes roll'd the Bear;
And human kind, with toil oppress'd,
Indulg'd the hour of balmy rest,
When treach’rous Love contriv'd a lure,
And struck, importunate, my door.
Who knocks 2 said I; your hasty blows
Disturb’d my dreams and soft repose”.
“A harmless child,” reply'd the pow'r:
“(Then fear no guile, though late the hour)
* xxiosis] Mr. Barnes has changed the origi-
mal here, and, instead of axiosis, reads oxidas, but
without any necessity; for sometimes the future is
used instead of past time by poetical licence. See
examples in Pauw,
10
“Who, tir’d and wet, has lost the road,
“And hopes relief in your abode.”
The story mov’d : I rose in haste,
Prepar'd my lamp, and saw my guest.
Wing'd was the boy, and arms he wore,
Behind him shafts, a bow before.
Close to the fire I made him stand,
There warm'd in mine each little hand,
Press'd floods of water from his hair”,
And try’d assiduous ev'ry care.
When, thus employ'd, my friendly part
Had eas'd the cold, and cheer'd his heart,
“I fear,” said he, “the show'ry sky
“Has spoil'd my bow-string: let me try.”
* typov ºp] the wet water. It was not unusual
to increase an idea by the addition of tautologous
epithets. Thus Pindar, Xºwaag 2.99geway ºve:-liqui-
da nat tibi linter aqua. Tibull.—and in the eastern
style, we read of a f iming flame, and of a burning,
fiery furnace.
| |
Quick then his deadly bow he drew,
Discharg’d, and pierc'd me through and
through”.
“Away now flits the wily boy,
And, titt'ring, cries, “ Pray, wish me joy:
“The bow, unhurt, can show’rs endure:
6.6 Perhaps your heart is less securet.”
* 3rap) pierced my liver. Some authors con-
sidered the liver, and others the heart, as the seat of
love: our poet here makes those bowels sympathe-
tic; for, when his liver is wounded, his heart is sup-
posed immediately to be affected.
+ That Cupid was fond of mischief, a waxop.2-
zavos, is the complaint of every poet. If he pre-
tends to be in distress, it is for some unlucky de-
sign.
Kºy wrot tº Kºzlovra, pvazzato, un as wºzma). Mosc.
And though he weeps, beware! he means deceit.
| 2
ODE IV.
O N H J M S E L F.
WHERE flourish young myrtles the lotos among,
I wish for a bowl, and to stretch me along.
Bid Love with papyrus his tunic confine”,
Attend my commands, and administer wine.
* IIazupp] Every one has heard of this reed,
and that it served the old Egyptians for many diffe-
rent uses. The chest, in which Moses was discovered
floating on the Nile, is called by the LXX a chest
of papyrus. Pauw thinks, and not irrationally, that
this ode was the work of some Egyptian poet; it is
not probable that a Grecian would have thought of
a plant which never was used in Greece. I must
request the reader to pardon my intruding here a
passage from Horace, which has no further con-
nexion with the line before us, than as both of them
point at dress.
Ad mare descendet vates tuus, et Sibi parcet,
Contractusque legeſ.
The commentator ºn usum Delphini understands
the poet as if he intended to spend a winter with
# 3
*
The Fates have decreed us a poor little span;
And quick passes over the date of a man.
Then why shouldlibations be scatter'd and lost?
Why unguents and liquor bestow'd on a ghost?
Me, rather let me, of your bounty have part:
Give wreaths for my head, and a fairtomy heart.
little recourse to books. But was it probable, was it
possible for a single man, a man of learning, and
fond of exemplaria Graeca, to make such a resolution?
how could he pass the long, tedious nights away 2
During summer he might amuse himself, at times,
in his farm with little wholesome and agreeable oc-
cupations; he might give his neighbours an op-
portunity of smiling at him, videntes Sara moventem;
but when alone, from home, and in winter, that he
should resolve to be idle, is hardly credible. To lead
such a life, would be to punish, not parcere sibi;
which means, I suppose, that he would avoid all
troublesome business. For these reasons I do not
understand contractus adverbially, but in its natural
import, and would make it agree with vales. “In
“winter,” says the poet, “I will go down to the
* Sea-side; and there, warmly huddled up in my
.*
l4
With pleasuremy soul, little Cupid, shall glow,
*Till call’d, horrid call! to the shadows below.
“ cloak, in meteres atque rotundus, I will indulge my-
“self with reading some excellent Grecian authors.”
This, in my opinion, is the true meaning of Horace;
and it strikes me as a very matural picture.
13
O D. E. V.
O N T H E R O S E.
STEEP the rose in gen’rous wine!
Cupid loves the scent divine.
Crown'd with roses sit, and smiling *
Quaff, invidious time beguiling.
(A) Kºorapolaw] crown'd with rosés. Chaplets
were made of roses, lilies, myrtle, violets, and other
plants, according to the different fancies of the
guests. It was imagined that, partly by the flowers,
and partly by the constriction made by the chaplet,
drunkenness might be prevented, or the disagree-
able consequence much allayed. I do not conceive,
that, used in this manner, the bare effluvia could
have any effect, though some of them were of a
medicinal nature, Hippocrates indeed prescribes
rose-leaves (but first made into a cataplasm with
vinegar) as a good topical application for a head-
ach. That may be rational ; yet the strong scent of
flowers in general hurts the nerves. I knew a lady,
whose practice was, to crowd the room she com-
16
Happy flow'r supremely bright!
Nature's care, and Spring's delight!
Roses charm the world above ;
Roses form the wreath of Love;
O'er his temples these he places,
Sporting with the gentle Graces *.
Crown me now at Bacchus’ fane if
There I’ll touch an am’rous strain,
monly used with pots of flowers hung up on every
side: but she found the ill effects of so doing, and,
by the advice of her physician, was obliged to throw
all away. Gems too, not better than gravel in reali-
ty, were thought to cure as many disorders as any
of the quack-medicines recommended by His Ma-
jesty's patents.
* X&pirical with the Graces—companions very
properly chosen for the God of Love, since every,
qualification which can adorn a woman is ascribed
to those divinities.
+ Xzzoic) shrine, properly a pen for sheep, but
applied to a temple, because the chief deity stood
in the middle of it, defended by rails on every
side. Fab.
17
Dress'd in roses play, and there
Lightly gambol with a fair *.
* Baſukoans] deep-breasted—a most disagreeable
image! As explained by Hesychius, it is suitable only
to masculine women; but Eustathius exculpates
Homer, from whom this epithet is borrowed, if the
great bard applies it to the Trojan women only,
and never to the Grecian fair. NeoBrAos, the direct
opposite to BaºunoXºros, should be said of a young
girl, as in the forty-second Ode. I will now tran-
scribe the opinions of two learned critics on the lat-
ter word, and leave them to the reader, without
making any remark. Innuit, hoc epitheto, se non
ita facile amasse frustilla illa mulierum, qua pumilar
cum sint, pupae potius, quam plenum et justum Veneris
2%paz haberi debent. Faber.—Optime hatc voz de fe-
minis usurpatur, quarum in sinus oculi et manus ama-
torum solent descendere. Barnes.
18
O DE VI.
A COMUS, OR BAN2UET.
EMBELLISH'D with roses, how pleasant to quaſſ!
With cheerful companions how happywelaugh!
Behold where a beauty, the bliss to enhance,
With ivy-twin'd thyrses commences a dance”!
And hark, the fair boy! on a pectis he plays,
Enliv'ning the tone with his delicate lays.
* Batºirº] The Latins say ad barbitum, but
the Grecians sub barbito Saltare. Fab. The same
critic thinks that Anacreon is here describing a real
dance, in which Bacchus, Cupid, and Venus, were
personated by two boys and a girl, who went, with
songs and merriment, to the temple of Comus. But
probably it is nothing more than a fanciful compo-
sition.
Ibid.] Mr. Barnes, in his text, has Govortag. Ego,
says he, hanc vocem primus restituo, miratus neminem
ante me id fecisse, cum 8pºp.orro; fuerit vor omnibus
suspecta. He adds, si liceret per versum, legerem
19
To finish our revel, the comfort of years +,
See Love, with his mother and Bacchus, ap-
pearst.
warzozºoloº. I prefer the edition of Stephanus in
both cases; for, when ivy-branches are twined
about a thyrsus, and the leaves agitated in dancing,
I think that it may very properly be called a thyr-
sus with rustling leaves. Pauw says, in his usual
manner, ineptissima (conjectura) est illa Barnesā;—
nam, mihi credas, nihil alienius ab ingenio poétat, vel
modice eruditi. Sed criticus ille ineptiebat, nec ullum
habuit judicii usum. Though I do not approve of
the change which Mr. Barnes would make, if the
metre allowed it, yet I cannot think it so very ab-
Surd as to merit this insolent treatment.
* Enviparoy yºgaroºj Pauw thinks this Ode could
not have been written by Anacreon; which possi-
bly may be true, but doubtless not for the reason
which our great critic assigns.—Ineptum epithetum,
says he: nam comissatio non solet esse vulgo pergrata
senibus.-2ui hatc scripsit, Anacreontem imitatus fuit;
et ad indolem ejus attendens, de cunctis senibus divit
yevizos, quod de eo, et paucis similibus, dicendum fu-
ºsset eiðvøg. i. e. Because this ode expresses the
true spirit or indoles of Anacreon, Anacreon could
2O
not be the author. An excellent reason ' I cannot
say from experience, whether old men are, or are
not, in general, fond of a banquet; but this is clear,
old Nestor dissents from M. Pauw ; for, says the
former to Agamemnon, 3aw 3.xito, yºgsow, for you have
plenty of wine and all things fit for a feast. *
t Epw; ºpwooxarrºg) golden hair. This epithet,
as well as £2,00xogog, auricomus, flavicomus, and such
like, mean what we term flaren hair. 32,00; and
flavus are commonly said of corn. I have seen a
masterly picture of Venus with fiery hair, though
locks, truly red, were as disagreeable to ancient, as
they are to modern taste. Theocritus, describing
two homely swains, says
6 fºey avrov
IIvčos, 3 2 */evios
Half-bearded one, the other fiery-hair'd.
and in Martial, Crine ruber is the sign of a rogue.
Flaxen hair is very properly given to Cupid, as a
child; for most adults, whom we see with brown,
in their childhood had flaxen hair.
21
O DE VII.
ON CUPID.
CUPID, who limp'd, his end to gain,
Supported on a purple cane *,
* “Yakušwn as 328%] Pauw seems here to be more
than commonly unfortunate in his observations.
Haud dubie, says he, intelligendus est floris hyacin-
thi scapus : nam quod de coloris hyacinthini sceptro
narrant interpretes, ineptum videtur mihi. Cur, qua-
so, sceptrum Cupidinis eo colore infectum ? cur natu-
Talis lign: color mutatus? Nuga, Nuga.-Quicquid
de nativo colore mutato, et inducto colore hyacinthino,
wiri erudit: perhibent, non sit unius assis. Nos recte
et vere.--Why should the wand of Cupid be made a .
beautiful colour 2 for the same reason, I suppose,
that we stain and varnish our modern walking-
sticks,—The critic proceeds—hunc scapum sumsit,
at sib; usui esset, eoque ad sequendum adegit miserum.
—How or whence it may be collected, that our
bard was to follow, and Cupid to lead the way, I
cannot tell; nor do I conceive that the small stalk
of a small flower could be a fit instrument for com-
pulsion.
29
who slowly mov’d with tott'ring pace*,
Defy'd me once to run a race. -
While o'er the rocks and tumbling floods,
Deep hideous vales, and thorny woods,
With eager haste I ran, I flew,
Some lurking serpent pierc'd me throught.
* Xaxaro's 323ſo] walking with difficulty. Mr.
Barnes has Čabºr instead of Człów. I must
confess that he is too guilty of deceiving a reader
by substituting words of his own choice in place of
the original text. Bøðr', which he takes from
Heinsius, makes the poet struggle against Cupid ;
whereas he seems to undertake the race instantly,
and without any compulsion. If I guess rightly at
the scope of this ode, the reading of Heinsius en-
tirely spoils the whole. A critic may put what
conjectures he pleases into his notes ; but the ori-
ginal should not be corrupted. - -
t Teoxzov'ro. Tregev 5%; a serpent wounded me. I
wish that I could find some authority for reading
Teox2000', 3 reigsy : for then Cupid would be the ser-
pent, and his desire to run, a scheme to wound the
poet, while busied and off his guard. This would,
at least, be characteristical, and agreeable to several
23
High bounc'd my flutt’ring heart: I swoon'dº,
And half expir’d; so great the wound.
odes. But I will always object against such liber-
ties as are taken by some critics; and have trans-
lated the passage as it is found in the edition of
Stephanus; to explain which, we may suppose that
the malicious deity seduced the bard into places so
infested by serpents, that he knew it was almost
impossible for him to escape.
* Kg23% 3% Śwo; axçiç Avićaws] my heart leaped wp
to my nose. This phrase is, at least, as old as Ho-
mer; and among us, my heart leaped up to my mouth,
which we say often, is a literal version of that emi-
nent poet.
is ºwo, owth
Stºsol roºsto, ºrog avo, arouz—
As I do not remember this thought to have been
taken notice of by any commentator, perhaps an at-
tempt to explain the cause of it may not be unac-
ceptable to the reader. When a person is sudden-
ly affected by a wound or terror, the blood runs to
the heart in a copious stream : this is manifested
by a consequent paleness of the cheeks; but the
muscle not being able to contain it, a wave is re-
pelled, by the systole, in the vein, by anatomists
called the Vena cata descendens, which rising above
24.
Then nodded Love his treach'rous head *,
Exulting, clapp'd his wings, and said:
the heart at its junction with it, the pulsation felt,
is supposed to be in the heart, though, in reality
made against the vein.
* Merwro. astov, &mdºots ºrrigorow] moving, or sha-
king (his or my) head with soft wings. The learned
Hen. Steph. and Mr. Barnes translate this passage as
if Cupid meant to restore the bard by gently fan-
ning him with his wings. Faber, on the contrary,
supposes the deity to be angry; and makes him
ask the poet, “Do you know why you suffer thus?
It is because you are disobedient to me.” But
wherein lies the disobedience, I see not; for, when
desired to run, he obeys without any reluctance.
A nod, or motion of the head, expresses very dif-
ferent ends; sometimes it marks anger, sometimes
it is a note of assent; and at other times it is made
with a jocular pleasure. Thus, in Bion, a boy
who thought Cupid was a bird, and attempted to
catch him with traps, complained to an old shepherd
that he could not secure his prey; the shepherd
Mºzov ºwnae %222, x. T. A.
shook his head,
And smiling, thus reply'd —
9.5
“ No longer vaunt of strong desire :
“You cannot bear the am’rous fire.”
In this sense I understand the poet, conceiving that
Cupid nods his head, and flutters or claps his wings
with exultation, like one of our cocks before hº
crows. But as at least a line of the original, whi
should here follow, is lost, the critics have a fair
opportunity of exerting their various fancies. Pauw
is clear that the whole ode is allegorical, and de-
notes amantºm in difficili amore harenten, ut cel unus
versiculus postremus apérie declarat. How the
words, for you cannot love, prove this singular whim,
I submit to the reader. Indeed his explanation of
the allegory is so dull and dark, in my apprehension,
as to stand in much need of an explanation. The
version of Hen. Steph. ergo anare disce, is so un-
like the Greek, that, between it and the preceding
line, I cannot even feign any connexion. For my
part, I apprehend that the whole is a scheme of
Cupid, and would supply the deficient line some-
what to the following purpose. “Hah, friend
“you boast to be in love with thousands of beau-
“ ties (Ode XXXII.)—you threaten to burn me,
“if I do not supply you with amorous flame
“ (Ode X.)—but since you are unable to bear the
“ small tooth of a serpent, you are plainly a mere
C
*
O DE VIII.
O N H J S D R E A M.
ASLEEP on tap'stry, stretch'd at ease *,
(For gen’rous wine all pain allays)
“boaster, and cannot cndure the pangs of love.”
(Compare Ode XL. with this.)
* Aaroe ºvgoi;] It is extremely difficult to know,
with precision, one colour from another; such a
confusion occurs among ancient writers. IIyacinth,
mentioned in the former Ode, is said by Jerom to
be ocean-green; by Ambrose sky-colour, like the
Sapphire; by Virgil, red; and by Ovid, the colour
of silver. . Axºnogºveos, named also &Aegyss, I sup-
pose to be the Oaxacairns of Epiphanius; but as nei-
ther this word nor &asey; has any relation to pur-
ple, I suspect that ºrogºveos is an epithet only, not a
colour: for so it is used, when not compounded,
by almost every Greek and Latin poet; in this
sense, &awroºpv60; should be rendered, a beautiful
shining green. Indeed it would require the wealth
of a monarch to purchase tapestry or bed-cloaths of
a Tyrian colour; the necessary material was so ex-
tremely dear.
97
Methought I join’d some lovely fair,
And ran and toy'd as light as air;
While youths, like Bacchus *, gib'd to see
The sprightly virgins play with me.
But, when I meant to gain a kiss,
Retiring sleep deny'd the bliss;
And lonesome now, and dark the scene.—
I wish’d and strove to dream again.
* ‘Azraxwrego, Avais] Bacchus and Apollo were
represented as the most beautiful persons among
the gods.
O DE IX.
ON A DOVE.
STOP, my beauteous dove, and pray
Tell me whence your airy way P
Why do all your little plumes
send a gale of rich perfumes 2
Who's your lord, and where you dwellº,
Lovely stranger, stay and tell.
The description of her happiness which the bird
gives, has a more pleasing effect than would a stu-
died and flourishing encomium by the poet. In
this respect, I prefer the Dove of Anacreon to the
Sparrow of Catullus, and to Martial's Issa. Faber
says, that not any mortal, but the Muses and Graces
conspired to form this elegant composition. He
may, with my leave, employ as many goddesses as
he thinks fit, provided always, that a goddess of
painting is not made one of the company.
* Tº eart col; wixt 3:) This line is written as
differently as there are different critics. I shall not
\
99
DOVE,
Me the Teian bid with care
Search and find his idol-fair *,
Her, whose beauty's early pride
Conquers all the sex beside.
Venus, for an ode he gave hert,
Much delighted with the favour,
Bid me, since you long to know it,
Serve obsequiously the poet,
enter into a dispute, which (without the discovery
of some correct manuscript) may be never conclu-
ded; but have used the edition of Barncs, supposing
however, that, in his extensive reading of Greek
authors, he met such a phrase as tº ear, gol, with
*arorn, understood; for I confess that, in the
course of my reading, I never saw any thing like it.
* Bobvaxon] In all places, where this name oc-
curs, I have substituted Egopsin instead of it, for ob-
vious reasons.
f Aagaz2 wingov twov) a small hymn. Anacreon,
observe the critics, was a writer of Odes, and not of
Hymns; but the difference, in my opinion, is not so
30
Now his fair one I pursue,
Charg’d to give this billet-doux.
Once he told me—“Dove,” said he,
“Soon I mean to set you free.”—
But, so easy now my case,
Should I quit the happy place 2
Should I range the hill and wood,
Seeking mean and scanty food P
Now securely I may stand,
Crumbs receiving from his hand;
Or, if thirsty, go and sup
Wine delicious from his cup.
Cheer'd with this, I play and bound *,
Nimbly dancing on the ground;
great as to prevent a poet from using them, for the
sake of variety, as synonymous terms.
* IIisao. 3' aw xtives] Graca laborant leviter, says
Pauw ; for the word should be written xogsvo.
Against this I have not any objection; and Steph.
.* 31.
tº
Then caress the bard, and spread
Both my pinions o'er his head;
translates it salto. Mr. Pope, speaking of poets and
critics, observes, that
—less dang'rous is th’ offence
To tire our patience than misguide our sense.
I will avoid the greater offence, to the best of my
judgement, by acknowledging, that a bird drunk
and dancing is the most ridiculous and preposterous
thought which appears among all the Grecian poets,
The writer was infamously attached to liquor, who
supposes that even a bird could not be happy with-
out it. Let a painter attempt such an image; and
if he puts the bird out of its natural, easy posture,
it will appear to a spectator as just shot, or other-
wise dying in strong convulsions. I cannot pass
unnoticed the judgement of self-praising, abusive,
and insolent M. Pauw. Having first told us that
Barnes mares habebat obesas, he proceeds—venuste
indicat, columbain...saltare velle, et saltare etian
posse, cum vinum...avide exhauserat; illud ad sal-
tandum excitabat molliculam ; absque co, via Saltare
poterat, aut Saltare cupiebat, Nihil suavius. What
a poetical painter is Pauw,
32
Last, to quiet sleep retire,
Perching on the very lyre.
Thus I told—a prattling jay—
All my case—now go my way”.
* ArtA93) Such is the judgement of Pauw, that
he speaks with as much diffidence when right, as
with insolence when plainly wrong; mescio an satis
conveniens sit illud wºrs),0s. This mescio may be
true ; fallor, aut poéta scripšit 27:200 ; mescio quid
alii dicturi sint ; this mescio is false; for he well
knew that H. Steph. had rendered the word, valeto.
Every one sees that arex0s undoubtedly must be
wrong; for the enquirer, for aught appears to the
contrary, was standing idle, whereas the dove was
hastening on her message, and therefore should say,
I must be gone; otherwise the Ode does not con-
clude, qualis ab incapto processerat; nec Sibi constat.
33
O DE X.
ON A WAXEN IMAGE OF CUPID.
A YOUTH, as once it so befell,
Propos'd a waxen Love to sell.
I quickly went, and said, “My boy,
“What price will buy that curious toy”
The youth reply'd, in Doric phraset,
“Why, master, take it as you please;
* Exºrcioux, coil The Grecians say relaosa. Twº, as
well as reloa Sa. 7262 Twog. Fab.
+ Adelačovl speaking in the Doric dialect. This
dialect, which is nearly allied to the AEolic, was
constantly used by Theocritus, and thought to be
particularly well suited to pastoral poetry ; not that
it was merum rus, but on account of its natural, un-
affected simplicity; for we find it sometimes used
by the most elegant poets. Tirgil could not imi-
tate his master in this particular ; for the Latin has
not a variety of dialects, like the Greek.
C 5
34
“For, sure, to act the friendly part,
“I practise not the carving art,
“Nor caré, in troth, to spend an hour
“With such an all-requiring pow'r.”—
“Here then, here take this drachm to thee,
“And give the charming friend to me.”
Now, Love, since you are fairly mine,
Be warn'd, and know my fix’d design.
Or feed my breast with fond desire",
Or you shall melt, and feed the fire.
-
* IIveacow) Pauw thinks that Anacreon was not
the author of this little tale, but indeed for a pre-
posterous reason: in his opinion, the poet was not
such a fool as to believe that a bit of wax could
inspire his breast with love. “Fallor, aut recen-
“ tior aliquis hac pepigit.—Quid scilicet ima-
“ guncula Cupidinis cerea 2 eane facere potest qua,
“ dicuntur hic? eine adscribuntur recte, qua in
tº a
Cupidinem vivum et immortalem conveniunt unice #
& &
Nuga”, nuga". Sº ars magica accessisset, speciem
‘ habilisset commentum. Nunc de fingendi arte sermo
{
35
“ est.” From what part of the Ode did he collect
this last assertion 2 If the folly of heathens indu-
ced them to think that honouring statues reflected
honour on their supposed divinities, why should
they not believe that insulting the same statues
might induce the divinities, through fear of being
deserted, to grant a request? Such a dread, it seems
operated on the heathenish queen of heaven,
quisquam numen Junonis adoret P &c. Virgil.
Pan is threatened in Theocritus with being scratch-
ed, and made to lie among nettles. Hanway says,
the Calmuck Tartars in the same manner treat
their idols; and if Pauw had sailed with the Por-
tuguese, who call themselves Christians, he might
have understood the meaning of a relative punish-
ment, as well as of a relative worship. I do not
recollect any Greek or Latin poet, who speaks of
love, without using the metaphor flame or fire. It
tips all the darts of Cupid ; ºrvº warra Cºarrat;
says Moschus. Generally the name of a person is
added to fire, as meus ignis Amyntas. Virg. But
Horace writes ignis singly, as if a fire and beauty
were synonymous terms.
si non pulchrior ignis
Accendit obsessam Ilion.
We follow Horace exactly, by saying, your flame.
his flame, &c.
36
ODE XI.
O N H J M S E L F.
THE women maliciously gibe me, and cy,
“Anacreon, thou’rt old: 'tis a jest to deny.
“Go lookintheglass; see how quickyou decay:
“Your hair and your forehead are wither'd
away !”—
Ye beauties, what mischief old Time may have
wrought,
How prey’d on my head, never cost me a
thought.
But this I can tell—and am sure 'tis a truth—
When age has succeeded the vigour of youth,
The more we should revel, the more we should
toy,
Since death near approaches to banish our joy.
37
O DE XII.
o N THE syAL Lo W.
Noisy, chatt’ring Swallow, say,
Shall I tear your wings away?
Shall I clip that little tongue,
Whose incessant, early song
Breaks my rest and happy dream,
Just when beauty is the theme?
J
In regard to this Ode, and several others of like
nature, we may safely rest on the opinion of an
eminent critic, and say that
—-olim lusit Anacreon. . HoR.
O DE XV.
ON GENEROUS LIVING,
UN conquER’D by riches, my soul nor admires
Fam'd Gyges, noraught of his treasuredesires”.
Untouch'd by ambition, to envy unknown,
I look with contempt on the blaze of a throne.
To dress, to perfume, to be careless and free,
And joys such as those, have a relish for me.
Each moment I seise, and the present possess;
For who can pretend at the future to guess?
While time then allows, and the weather is
clear,
With glasses and dice ever cheerful appear,
* Ou wo ºt-4. r. A.] I care not for Gyges, king
of Sardis—nor do I envy kings. This tautology is
observed by every critic; but if we read with Bent-
ley ro, I'vya, and with the V. M. &^0; instead of
Xavaos, tautologies are removed. The substance of
Pauw's long note is in Barnes.
39
Lest pallid disorder, your spirits now sinking,
Should come, and cry, “Pray, sir, have done
with your drinking *.”
* Necos.] Sickness. 2wid vscog, says Pauw, idne
accommodum est ?–de morbo, in his non loquuntur
homines lascivi, sed de morte, quia vitam tollit. That
death takes away life, will hardly be disputed: but
our critic seems to have forgotten chronic com-
plaints, when he adds, post morbum ad voluptates
redire poterant. The man who has lost the use of
every joint by the painful gout, or is excruciated by
the gravel, to omit other disorders, occasioned often
by a long habit of ebriety, can seldom return to
much pleasure again.
40
O DE XVI.
O N H J M S E L F.
WHILE you Thebaean wars relate,
And he proud Troy's severer fate,
Let me attempt the tuneful art,
And sing the conquest o'er my heart”.
No fleets equipp'd in strong array,
Nor foot, nor horse, have gain'd the day;
But foes uncommon won the prize,
Who cast their darts from beauteous eyest.
* Axwostºl Allusum ad Teotz, &Awaw. Exstat Try-
phiodori poéma, cui nomen Iaig Axwort; ; et Petro-
nius, “ sed video totum te in illa haerere tabula
“ quae Trojae Halosin ostendit.” Barnes.—This
adoption of Greek into Latin, Horace approves, as
follows,
nova factaque nuper habebunt verba fidem, s?
Graeco fonte cadant
t An opporow] I believe that there are not any
two figurative expressions so common as those which
41
give darts to the eyes, and fire to love. Thus
Musaws,
an’ opSaawoto Coxoov
"Eako, ohiasawes, kz in £gswo's 2,360; 3%vºl.
The reason why darts are thrown by the eyes,
according to Xenophon, is, because tročja,0s, rurgooxaas;
a much better reason than we have from Proper-
tius, who says,
Ante ferit quoniam tută quam cernimus hostem.
This implies that a lover is wounded before he can
see the object. The same poet has almost literally
translated the beginning of this ode;
Cum tibi Cadmea dicuntur, Pontice, Theba!, &e.
42
O DE XVII.
ON A SILVER BOWL.
COME, Vulcan, take that silver ore,
But forge destructive arms no more ;
They much affright my soul”.
No, all your wond’rous art employ,
To mould that lovely scene of joy,
A deep, capacious bowl.
* T. yag azzzio's wºuo;;] What have I to do with
battles 2 This kind of phraseology is common in
the Old and New Testament, where it never has
any other sense than, what communication is there
between particular persons? Yet our universal his-
torians translate tº spºol 22, aol, yovo. ; what is that to
you and to me? and the Rheims Bible, still more ab-
surdly gives us, what to me and to thee P which even
Maldonatus allows to be an insupportable version.
“ It is,” says he, “a pious interpretation: but the
“ idiom of the language cannot bear it; for I find,
43
Nor Pleiads grave, nor heav'nly signs,
Nor stars, nor wains, nor quaint designs;
But stretch the vine above :
w
&
6.
by the constant usage of Scripture, that the
phrase signifies, nihil huic cum alio esse com-
“ mune.” The Jesuit, (no doubt against his will)
s most clearly right; I say against his will ; for
he proceeds to make false and weak apologies for
the text, though obliged to confess that it expressed
a rebuke of the Virgin, according to all the primitive
fathers of the church. Our historians however tell
us, that the words contain a Hebrew idiom, and
refer us to a parallel in Sam. xix. 22. and 1 Kings,
xvii. 18. It is really astonishing to think, that, if a
reader will be at the trouble of looking at those pas-
sages, he will, at first sight, perceive, that our cri-
{{
i
tics, by their translation, make palpable nonsense of
them both. We have the phrase in question re-
peated here three several times—What have I to do
with battles & What have I to do with the Pleiades &
what with the constellation of Boötes ? Will these
bear the old exploded version, which our critical
historians have revived It makes sense indeed of
the text for which they propose it; but it does so
by mere accident only ; it does so, because it hap-
44
Then show, in gold, my beauteous fair”;
Let sportive Bacchus too be there,
With ever-conqu'ring Love.
pens to be a reply. How would it sound in any
other parts of the Gospel 2 For example; when a
demoniac starts from the tombs, sure we cannot
say that he accosts our Lord with, “what is that to
“ you or to me?” before one word is spoken to
which the relative has any relation. How often is
even learning absurdly misapplied
* Bozſvaaoºj See the note on Ode IX. The bard,
by representing his fair one in gold, places her on a
level with the other divinities. An old poet has
so disposed his metals as to give the figures almost
their proper colours, except that Jupiter, as chief,
is formed of gold.
Agyvggo; twº Bºy Nei?s goog, k. T. W.
In brass the heifer shone ; in silver roll’d
A little Nile; but Jove appear'd in gold.
46
O DE XIX.
ON THE NECESSITY OF DRINKING,
THIS fertile earth imbibes the rain *;
The trees her moisture drink again+;
* Hyn Lexowo.] the black earth; this epithet not
sounding well in English, I render it fertile; and
indeed black, applied to earth, and fertile, are al-
most synonymous torms. Herodotus, Plutarch,
Virgil, and many others, have observed that black
soils give a copious harvest. Egypt, Melambolus,
and (as Plutarch seems to think) Chemia, are names
of similar import, denoting the dark colour of that
country, which feeds Constantinople at present, as
it did ancient Rome.
# IIws, 3° 38,38s avtny.] the trees drink her, (the
earth.) Incpta locutio, exclaims Pauw ; arbores non
bibunt terram, sed humorem in terra occlusum, quo
âta ditantur solo, ut etiam ertra terram civere et
luxuriari possent, si humor ille larga copia suppeteret.
Res est quam omnes hodic scºunt; quare neque bonus
46
The swelling ocean drinks the gales;
From him the thirsty sun exhales *;
poeta, neque bonus fuit philosophus, qui haic scripsit.
That a few succulent plants will grow in water, is
known to every person: but that large forest trees
can thrive luxuriously in the same manner, is a new
discovery, made by M. Pauw. Waving, how-
ever, this question, I cannot agree with our critic,
that to drink the earth, is inepta locutio; nor will I,
on his sole authority, discard a figure which has
been constantly made use of by all writers, ancient
and modern, sacred and profane. Who does not
say, I drank a cup or a glass, lest some mighty
critic should tell him that he is a blockhead, and
did not, in reality, swallow the cup or glass 2
When the poet observes that trees drink the earth,
does he not plainly consider the earth as a cup,
in which water undoubtedly is contained Such
little cheerful pieces as these Odes should not be
treated with severity. Many of them, perhaps,
were extempore compositions. Every one can be
a snarler; but few are judicious critics. Rejecting
all figures, is it certain that great trees are nourished
by the pure element of water, without some ad-
dition of earth 2 I suppose it is not; for wood,
chemically analysed, gives a residuum, or caput
47
The moon, as thirsty, copious streamst
Insatiate drinks of solar beams.
mortuum, which is nothing but earth effete; and
spring-water, evaporated, leaves a proportion of
earth; it is therefore highly probable, that some
particles of it, so minute as not to be discovered in
the purest water, are taken up, with the water,
into the pores of a tree.
* Haro; Baaaaaay..] the sun drinks the sea. Lucan
makes it a question, whether spring-tides, as we
call them, are raised up by the moon or by the
sun; if by the sun, that he does it to drink the
WäVCS.
an sidere mota secundo
Tethyos unda vaga lunaribus astuet horis;
Flammiger an Titan, ut alentes hauriat undas,
Erigat oceanum.
+ Toy Hatoy Xianyn.] the moon drinks the sun. Hoc
-cliam, says the great critic, ineptum est; an Luna
bibit Solem, quia lucem ab eo mutuatur & et lur
pro potu haberi potest ? Nuga”, mugaº. Karzwisscºw,
pro absorberi sumtum apud Gracos, notant hic inter-
pretes, ut duritiem mitigent, credo : sed quid illud,
wbi de potu sermo est, et ad potum collimant singula?
Ut breviter dicam, quod res est; ineptiit poéta, hac
ita pangens; et indignus est-cut patrocinetur quisquam.
48
In drinking, then, since all agree,
What friend can justly censure me?
The surface of our planet undoubtedly absorbs a
large portion of rays; that the moon does not, but
reflects all, like a looking-glass, will hardly be
proved to our satisfaction by the astronomical
M. Pauw. And may not absorbing be called
drinking, without any great violence to poetical
licence 2
There is such a large number of odes on drink-
ing, and such a disgusting sameness runs through
all, that I have omitted the majority of them. I
shall, however, take notice of any phrase in those
omitted, which appears to require some animad-
version.
49
O DE XX.
O N H J S M I S T R E S S.
OLD Tantalus' daughter, give credit to Fame*,
Was chang'd from a nymph, and a statue be-
came ;
And Procne, her form of a beauty resign'd,
Flies up, in a swallow, as quick as the wind,
This Ode has been imitated by a cloud of poets,
and almost in every language.
2:0s yevoltzczy
"A Gogºvoz Lexico'o, ºcci & Teow av'rgov inotºzy. Theoc.
O utinam subito fieri mea mumera possin. Ovid.
O were I made, by some transforming pow'r,
The captive bird that sings within thy bow'r, Pope
* H Tayrox8, n. T. A.] Hore Pauw has discovered
two eminent blunders. Non quadrat hic Niobes ex-
emplum ; nam ea formam non mutavit.—Si mentem
habuisset odariž auctor, Proteum et Periclymenum hic
debuisset commemorare, -sic a viris durisset exemplum,
non a mulierculis, ut nunc satis insulse facit, 2ware
ID
50
May I be a mirror, my fairest to please;
That full on my bosom you ever should gaze”;
Or let me transform'd in a tunic appear,
Your waist to encircle, your breast to be near.
hic statim in principio duplex est lyrici minus eruditi
peccatum. But a change was made from rational
to irrational nature, which is enough for the poeti-
cal purpose. Beside, the gallant bard's imagination
was so monopolised by the fair, that he could not
even think of a man.
* Oro; ast.] For ever look at me : and of the
gown it is said afterward, that you may ever wear me.
On which Pauw remarks, that mimium est as de spe-
culo; de tunica mor frugalius sequitur—ita solent qui
zerba quarunt—ut versus oppleant. This, in my
opinion, if considered as a critical curiosity, can be
scarcely equalled : such an extraordinary, such a
stare-making comment, I am satisfied that Pauw
could not find in Mr. Barnes.—Our poet wishes to
be his fair one's glass, that she may for ever look at
him—“ saying for ever,” replies Pauw, “is say-
ing too much of the glass.”—A kind hint to his
reader! lest he should imagine that a beauty stares
in her glass, when fast asleep.–" But more fruga-
lity appears with regard to the gown.”—How so
51
As unguents or water, I’d visit my girl”,
Or hang on your neck in the shape of a pearl;
is not eternity given to both 2 I presume the reason
is, because, when the lady dressed herself in the
morning, she kept on the gown until she retired to
bed; whereas she could not conveniently hold the
glass before her, while eating, drinking, doing
some family-business, or walking about the streets;
the consequence of which is, that our bard has
wasted less of as on the gown, than he has, with
absurd prodigality, on the glass. Such are the ob-
servations of the most self-sufficient, insolent, abu-
sive, dogmatical writer who ever set pen on paper.
As and semper are not mere expletives: they are in-
tended to signify often, or long time, by every poet;
and a literal version of them is used for the same
purpose, in English, in French, and, as I believe, in
most, if not all, of the modern tongues in Europe.
I am obliged to quote Pauw more frequently
than any other critic; for the others are chiefly bu-
sied in settling the metre, which I pass over unno-
ticed, or in stating the various readings; whereas
Pauw adds his opinion of the merits or demerits of
almost every ode.
* Twwaj O woman. Neither Nºu) N in Hebrew,
nor Q yuya, in Greek, Sounded, in those lan-
j9
Ev’n slippers I’d be, could I gain my request;
For sure 'tis a joy by your foot to be press'd “.
guages, as O woman does to an English ear. Ho-
mer makes a princess addressed by that title; Ana-
creon here gives it to his fair one ; characters which
are always treated with the highest degree of flat-
tery, or, at least, respect.
* Movoy roar, ºrcºrew wel by your feet to be kicked,
or trodden.—On this concluding line M. Pauw ob-
serves,-si ad pracédentia et indolem sermonis atten-
das, facile cidebis mccum, haec metri necessitate etiam
(i. e. this line, as well as the word we before men-
tioned) extorta esse homini pauperis ingenii.--Thus
it seems that an entire line of an ode, not confined
to any given number of lines, and which has the
same measure in every line, is an expletive only to
complete the measure—the measure of what? of the
whole ode 2 That sure is too ridiculous. Is the verse.
then an expletive to complete itself? That is, if pos-
sible, worse. A reader, for aught I know, may
discover the critic's intention: but, for my part, I
can find nothing in it, but what, to my judgement,
seems evidcnt nonsense.
53
O DE XXVI.
ON HIMSELF.
WHEN Bacchus has fully replenish'd the veins,
No trouble can reach or can tease us:
I sing o'er the bowl, am a stranger to pains,
And think myself rich as a Croesus.
Then wreathing green ivy my forehead around,
So fruitful is liquor of mirth,
Contented Istretchat full length on the ground,
And spurn all the things upon earth”.
* Ketual, raro 3’ &rarro..] When a man, by filthy
ebriety, has brought himself into a temporary pal-
sy, and temporary idiotism ; when his limbs cannot
support him; when the os sublime lies groveling like
a hog upon the ground, and every word, which he
can articulate, shows the fool; then he becomes
the most excellent being upon earth !—A very na-
tural picture, on which Pauw does not make any
34
Let others love war—bring a bottle, my boy”
For have it I will, and I must.—
Dead-drunk to lie stretch'd, is allow'd to be joy,
But none to lie dead in the dust.
remark, though delighted by the preternatural
image of a drunken dove.
* Owaić', 'yo & ºrway.] I have followed the version
of H. Steph. The ode requires it; and āraft, instead
of 3raiſe, an active, instead of a passive verb, and
vice versa, is not uncommon in poetical language.
-We have a parallel to this ode in Ode XXXVIII.
'O us, Bºwy waxaasai—waxoSw, x. T. A.
Let those, whom martial glory charms,
indulge their dang'rous choice of arms.
For me, O boy, produce the cup, &c.
55
O DE XXVIII.
OF HIS MISTRESS, TO THE PAINTER,
MASTER of the rosy art”,
Try the pleasing, friendly part:
Paint my beauty all divine;
Colour you, and I’ll design.
Make her tresses easy lie,
Softly touch'd, and black the die.
If your tint so far prevailst,
Paint them breathing od’rous gales.
* “Požinºl rosy, H. Steph. who is followed by all
the critics, has changed this word into 'Poºn;, Rho-
dian ; and Pauw adds quaintly, that jºin; male olet,
et rosas minime spirat. However, I think that
painting may be styled, and with sufficient proprie-
ty, the rosy art; for most, if not all mixed colours,
are warmed with a portion of red, as every painter
knows. *
+ A, 39nra.] Anacreon is right, says Faber, to add
J()
Next, her forehead ſmooth and fail”
Gently raise beneath her hair.
if possible, since a picture is not made for the nose,
but eyes: an observation worthy of Pauw himself!
* Texpe 3’ sé 6&n; 7rageing, tºro 706%ugozia's X.2%tock,
x. v. A.] The whole sentence runs, in regard to the
hair and forehead, thus—paint out of, or from an en-
tire cheek, under her beautiful hair, an ivory forehead.
The adjective entire, is rendcred plena by Barter and
Mr. Barnes, who tell us, that quoniam utraque gena
mon potuit integra depingi, voluit autem unam carte
Žntegram poni, quo et psa frons conspection fieret;
which seems to imply, that, by turning a face, from
being full, toward a profile, we lessen one cheek,
and make the forehead conspection to the view.
Such drawing, to me, is inconceivable. Blaterant
miseri, cries Pauw ; aliud requiritur, quod tribus
werbis tibi exponam. Hogeio, öAn est gena plenior, quain
nulla macies obsidet.—Nihil naturalius, nihil accom-
modatius. It seems that a plena could not satisfy
our critic; he must have a plenior gena, which re-
presents to our imagination a cheek swelled out by
a violent tooth-ach. There should be a medium
between plenior and macilenta, or you cannot have
an agreeable contour. Beside, I do not recollect
ever to have seen $20; made use of to signify plump
57
a-
Form a brow on either side;
Mix them not, nor yet divideº;
or prominent. There is here another difficulty,
which the commentators have passed over without
any remark; I mean, with what propriety the fore-
head can be said to rise out of the cheek, whether
lcan or plump. For my part, I cannot answer this
question, nor do I understand what the poet means
by his epithet 5Aos. Mr. Barnes renders two ºrogºv-
exio xxvroig, sub violaceis capillis, and tells us, in his
notes, that Tamerlane the Tartar boasted of purple
hair. This is really surprising, since he could not
but know that nogºveo; is here an epithet only, and
that the hair of this portrait is expressly painted
black.
* Mo go ºaxo~rs, unre playe.] Neither cut them nor
mingle them. A junction of the eye-brows was
considered by some writers as an eminent beauty.
It is not generally thought so at present: but there
is no accounting for different tastes. Petronius
runs into a wild excess. Supercilia ad malarum
stricturam currentia, et rursus confinio luminum pene
permixta. This in nature would be monstrous;
on canvas, a mere caricature. Pauw acknow-
ledges that the brows are arched; but of the eye-
lids he says that orbis est nullus; he is profoundly
D 5
38
Let no eye distinctly see
Where they part, or where agree.
Then her eye-lash must arise
Black and circling o'er her eyes.
Now her eyes your hand require;
Paint them sparkling as the fire,
Awful as the queen of arms”,
Lively as the queen of charmst.
ignorant of painting; but it seems strange that he
never looked at a human face.
* Taavnoy] blue. The epithet yaavuori; is so
appropriated to Minerva, that we must under-
stand by it, in this place, her look in general, and
not the particular colour of her eyes: see the fol-
lowing Ode. Barnes defines yaavuo; to be color
subviridis, albo mixtus, et quasi clarus, et igneo quo-
dam splendore suffusus: a definition which, I think,
represents too exactly the eye of a cat.
+ ºxygov, & Kv0nen..] Wet as the eye of Venus. The
version of bygos, which Hen. Steph. gives, is pastus;
he takes it from a Latin epigram, which ascribes
an oculus pastus to the queen of love. I wish that I
f 59
Next attempt her cheeks and nose:
Blend the fairness through the rose”;
could agree with him; for it is really painful to
contradict such an eminent critic; but I appre-
hend, from Horace, that pattus regards the situa-
tion of an eye in its socket, and by no means the
beauty or vivacity of it; for, says he, Strabonem ap-
pellat partum; here a pattus seems to be a strabo in
a lesser degree; since it is absurd to imagine that
a parent is so blind, as to call a manifest deformity
in a child, by the name of an opposite beauty.
The fondest of mothers would attempt only to pal-
liate, not to praise; for praise would be ridicule on
such an occasion; (though our dull commentator, in
usum Delphini, tells us that pastus means a rolling
and beauteous eye like that of Venus.) I would
chuse to translate Horace—“ in friendship we
“should imitate the fond parent, who says, of a
squinting child, that it has a cast"—a pattus is ex-
actly opposite to a strabo; in the former, the iris
is turned outward, or toward the temples; but in
the latter, (which is far more disgusting) invariably
toward the inner canthus. When a side-look is not
fixed, but occasionally mimicked, it may be fitl
ascribed to a Venus. In regard to Öygog, I under-
stand it here in its natural meaning, wet; a bright
60
Then her lip's persuasive grace,
Softly courting an embrace.
eye constantly seems as wetted; whercas, if that
organ appears dryish, it indicates stupidity or dis-
order. The surface of water is so bright and vivid,
that even the lustre of a diamond is by jewellers
called the water. Hence Parnel:
He made her cyes with di’mond water shine.
Perhaps Horace alludes to this vivacity by vultus
lubricus: Solomon, who was a perfect judge of
beauty, says, thine eyes are the fish-pools ; here the
metaphor cannot bear any dispute: and it must be
with reference to the clearness and brightness of
water, that Musa’us gives the epithet bygo; to the
virgin-blushes of his delicate Hero—
A13.9% tygow giv%; &rograšeaz 7806078.
* Poèz tº yoAcwt., p.1%x;..] Blending the fairness, &c.
Mr. Barnes says, ut sit major in genis rosei coloris
mixtura, minor in maso, ct e contra, &c. That in-
deed is required, but not by the text, which does
not give any such implication. Our poet, in this
description, compares the skin of his mistress to
ivory, milk, and marble. For my part, when I
read in the poets of a skin like milk, snow, or lilies,
I consider such language as merely hyperbolical;
partly, because such a skin would be monstrous and
61
Let a thousand graces deck
All her Parian-marble neck.
terrific; and partly, because the Grecians, when
not figurative, are in their painting extremely warm.
As to ivory and marble, they are made similes
On account of their uniform colour and excellent
smoothness. A skin without any pimple, spot,
freckle, or wrinkle, would be an elegant skin in-
deed, and, in that respect, like good ivory or the
beautiful stone of Paros. Thus Horace compares
Glycera to marble, not for the whiteness, but for
the clearness and purity of the stone.
Urit me Glyccra, nitor
Splendentis Pario marmore purius.
And the bard himself, in his encomium on the rose,
(Ode LIII.) declares, that, without the colour of
that flower, it would be impossible to describe
Venus, or any one of the celestial fair. Pauw can-
not believe that the nose is here concerned at all.
—Color lactis et rosarum mixtus ad solas genas per-
timet—Facies hic mixtum illum colorem non admittit—
nihil fuit absurdius quam frontem eburneam facere,
facient autem reliquam ita colorare, ut lactis et ro-
sarum referret mixturam. Hoc perspicuum est.—
Certum gitur est quod de genis dicimus solis. Paint
the nose and cheeks, says the original, mixing the
62
Painter, now, to clothe the rest,
Form a purple, slender vest,
Clear, pellucid, that her skin
Half observ'd shall lie within :
Prying fancy thus may know,
Wond’rous beauties are below.
Hold! enough! I see the fair *:
All her charms confess'd appear !
rose with the milk—What rose with what milk 2
Most evidently the rose of her cheek with the milk
or fairness of her nose; where these colours meet,
they should be so Atxº,00twº blended together, as
to leave no perceptible line of distinction. In my
judgement, the poet is extremely clear: but what-
ever Pauw does not understand, of necessity must
be wrong; accordingly he concludes, Poétam adju-
ware non possumus ; etmor culpa ejus recurrit certa.
.* Artxºt' 8Aero yag &vtny.] Except here and in
St. Mark, the word &Texas, meaning sat est, sufficit,
is not to be found among the Grecian writers now
extant. Wherefore the critics would change it ac-
cording to their different fancies. Hen. Steph. (in
his Thesaurus) would read anize, which agrees with
63
Such the work in ev'ry feature,
Voice would make it real nature.
2.2% watov, in the following ode, as to the sense: but,
for want of globov, it is a most uncommon ellipsis.
Pauw chuses it also in St. Mark : yet I cannot ad-
mit his explanation of the passage; for it implies
that our Lord was ignorant of the approach of
Judas, until he was close at hand. Whitby, in his
comment on the Evangelist, renders Anacreon in
Such a manner, as shows the necessity of under-,
standing somewhat of painting, before we can un-
derstand the Grecian poets. He conceives the
bard to mean, “ hold! I see the beauty herself,
(Gatzo avtny) and therefore have no need of her pic-
ture.” I wonder that he never heard such com-
mon phrases as are used, when, pointing to pic-
tures, we say, there is the very woman, or there is the
man standing before you, intending only to praise an
accurate likeness.
O DE XXIX.
ON THE SAME SUBJECT *.
ARTIST, as nicely as you can,
My beauty paint, and this the plan.
Begin ; and first her lovely hair
Requires a master's skill and care:
* Tore à roº; etal zºol,—öcoy soºza, yuvoix, Xgovoy,
says Glycera in Athenaeus; and Q ºral ºrog0eviov 8×57av,
says our bard in a fragment. I have therefore,
without injuring the portrait, changed the title of
this ode, which, mutatis nominibus deorum, could as
justly be inscribed Teg roº Egwu.eyn; , as Teg re B2007 Ae,
were it not for one passage, which I have omitted,
as being too coarse for a modern ear. Mr. Barnes
has given a long defensio Troºpzorizº, a subject
which the learned well know, and which would
give little pleasure, and still less improvement, to
an English reader.
65
A vivid black must charm the sight;
But on the summit raise the light*.
Dispose your curls through ev’ry part
With feign'd neglect, with artless art,
Let all as free and easy flow,
As sporting nature bid them grow.
Her forehead softly touch; and now
A well-turn’d crescent make the brow.
Black be her sparkling eyes design'd,
Severely keen, yet softly kind.
From Pallas take the glance severe ;
From Venus add the milder air;
* E, anpov Žaiwaz;..] Sunny, or Shining on the summit
p §/, Sº, 2
or prominent part: See this explaimed in a com-
ment on a beautiful simile in Musaeus.
t EAiza, 3’ exiv$ºpov;-2. T. A.] Every word here is
nicely chosen. The poet would not shy, make the
curls lie, but cºpes, permit them to lie, &c 05Asal, as
&hey please, araxra ov,0s;, disposing them without a
stiff regularity.
66
That each who sees, and fondly burns,
May hope, and trembling dread by turns”.
Now paint her cheeks, and paint them, each
Soft as the tend’rest downy peach;
O'er which, with lively colour, spread
A modest bloom of rosy red.
The lips all pow'r of words defy!
In those let just persuasion lie:
Through ev'ry touch bid nature wake,
As if the picture meant to speakt.
* Iva rig to asy pºntai-k. T. A.] The alternate
hopes and fears of a lover are well expressed by .
Musaeus in the following line.-
"Evas 3e pziv Tots Saugot, ovaiºn, Tpop,03, ai?as.
If Pauw knew any thing of painting, he would
certainly have damned the whole ode, and cried
out, as usual, ineptiit poéta, who begins with the
locks before he had touched the face; but Anacreon
considered only the beauties of partial description,
and not any general regularity or correctness of
design. *
f Aaawy ownº speaking silently. As the lowest
67
Thus form'd complete her face divine—
As iv'ry smooth, the neck design.
From Dian's train collect the rest,
The well-turn'd limb, the hand, the breast.
Alas! imperfect is your art,
Which can't at once show ev'ry part.
A thousand charms the eye may find,
When plac'd her faultless shape behind.
Why should I speak of feet?—my task
Is ended: take whate'er you ask:
Exact from Venus draw the fair,
With all her great, celestial air:
Or, if my nymph you chance to see,
Her form shall Venus plan for thee.
whisper, in every language which has labials, re-
quires some motion of the lips, I like better what
our poet says in a fragment, the picture seems listen-
ing, and expects that some person would speak to it.
68
O HD E XXX.
ON CUP/D.
IT chanc'd, when the Muses young Cupid had
found,
Surprising the god as he lay,
They took him, with garlands and fillets they
bound,
Then gave to fair Beauty the prey*
* Tº Kax’s rage?ozzy..] They delivered him to
Beauty. This prosopopoeia makes Venus and Beauty
two different persons.—Odarium were elegans, says
Pauw, in quo nihil est quod reprehendi possit. He
might have been more kind, by explaining to us
wherein lies the particular elegance of this little
fable. If a moral is expected. I suppose it may be,
that, when a woman is truly amiable, she secures
the attachment of her admirer,
tenetque grata
Compede vinctum.
69
Now Venus, his liberty wishing to gain,
Proposes to ransom her Love:
But Cupid determines—so pleasing his chain—
Though free, that he never will move.
70
O DE XXXII.
ON HIS LOVES #.
WHOE’ER can tell the ocean-waves,
Or number all the summer-leaves,
May try alone the arduous part,
And sum the conquests o'er my heart.
* Odarium haud dubie, cries Pauw, est hominis
recentioris, qui regaroAoyay amabat, eamque pra:fere-
bat antiquorum aurea simplicitati. Hence we must
conclude that hyperbole was unknown to ancient
poets; which haud dubie is plainly false. This cri-
tic often declares war against rhetorical figures. It
seems that Virgil and he considered hyperbole in dif-
ferent lights: what would he say to the following
passage 2 *
Millia quot magnis nunquam venere Mycenis.
Some may think this a natural expression of fear:
but our hypercritic would exclaim, Nuga”, nuga ; a
palpable contradiction'
7 i
First courtly Athens write, and there
A list of five and thirty fair.
Achaia next your pen requires,
Where crowds on crowds my soul desires;
For Corinth boasts a lovely race,
Attractive, form'd with ev'ry grace.
Now reckon twice a thousand dames,
My Lesbian, Carian, Rhodian flames.
What! still more loves *—yes, more and
more;
I pass'd as yet my Syrian store;
I pass'd as yet untold the Nile,
And happy Crete’s all-plenteous isle.*,
* There is not a poet, not a historian, whether
Greek or Latin, who speaks of Crete, without cele-
brating it for riches and numerous fleets; hence we
may conclude that it enjoyed every article of conve-
niency and luxury which a trade to Europe, Afric,
and Asia, could afford. I am therefore surprised to
79
Where love their circling pleasure crowns, A.
And revels through a hundred towns.
Still shall I speak, and tell the rest,
Whose winning forms my soul possess'd 2
For thousands still I feel the pain,
From India to the western main *.
find Madame Dacier ignorant of what the poet
means by his epithet &rarr exsang, containing every
thing. If a modern writer should say of London, it
contains every thing, or every thing may be had in it,
I believe that his meaning would rarely be mista-
ken.
* Exto; av Tºeigwy—x. r. A.] From Cadiz to In-
dia. Thus Juvenal:
a Gadibus usque
Auroram et Gangen.
These are proverbial expressions, to signify all the
world. Huc, si liceret, says Mr. Barnes, adjicerem,
Żrºtov & 9 Hºaxatiow. The sense would then be, I
admire all the girls from this to Cadiz, and for a part
of the way. I wonder that Barnes did not mind the
absurdity of such an addition,
73
O DE XXXIII,
TO THE SPWALLOW.
You come, fair Swallow, ev’ry year *
y y >
To build, when genial suns appear;
* Xixiàov.] Swallow. The situation of this bird
in the winter is variously reported by various au-
thors. Since the time of Olaus Magnus, it has been
generally held that Swallows plunge into lakes and
ponds, are frozen over, and so continue until the
return of spring. Derham was of this opinion, but,
to confirm it, tells such an idle tale as is enough
to discredit his whole relation—“ An ancient fish-
“ erman,” says he, “ accounted an honest man,
“ saw, at a very low ebb, a black list of some-
“thing adhering to the rock. He found it was a
“great number of swallows hanging by the feet to
‘‘ one another, as bees do, which were covered com-
“ monly by the sea-waters,” &c.—Supposing them
to escape from crabs, cods, and other voracious
fishes, how can we imagine that bodies, incompara-
P.
\
74
And, ere chill snows the plains defile,
Retire to Memphis or the Nile.
bly heavier than swallows, would not by wintry
storms, and consequent surges, be dashed to pieces
against the rocks, or cast up and scattered along
the beach? Neither seals, crocodiles, hippopotami,
frogs, beavers, nor any kind of amphibious ani-
mals, whether their usual residence is on earth, in
fresh or salt water, could for a week, much less for
half the year, abide without inhaling a greater
quantity of air than water is known to afford. Even
whales, though not amphibious, require a due pro-
portion. No animal can subsist without a circula-
tion of blood ; and what motion of the lungs, what
systole or diastole of the heart, what vis motrix of
circulation can swallows have, without gills, when
the whole thorax is, of necessity, full of water 2
Beside, those birds are so numerous, that few
ponds, if the bishop is right, would be without a
collection of them ; and their ascent or descent
could not escape the yearly observation of many
different persons. For these reasons, I believe
the common report of Swallows to be nothing more
than a fable. Our poet says that they retire to
southern climes: and if the Grecks so conjectured,
because those birds disappear before the Etesian
75
But Love a strong perennial nest
Forms in my hapless tortur’d breast;
winds are quite ended, it was a natural supposition.
By the Romans it was judged that they slept hid-
den among the rocks:
Cum glaciantur aquae, scopulis secondit hirundo.
Willoughby is on the Grecian side; and his opinion
is put beyond all reasonable doubt by M. Adamson
the naturalist, who resided five years at Senegal,
and is a truly candid, ingenuous writer. He tells
us, that, on his passage thither, four European
swallows perched on the tackle of his ship near the
coast of Africa, but so fatigued that they could not
attempt to escape; that, in Senegal, during winter,
a crowd of them lay nightly on the sands; that, at
Gambia, many came every evening, and slept with
him in his hut ; but that, in those countries, they
never were known to breed. To this I must add
the account of two ship-captains, employed in the
trade to Guinea for several years. Both of them
assured me that Swallows are as common there in
December, as with us in the middle of May. These
reports, in my opinion, cannot be contradicted with
any measure of justice: yet that many of those
birds stay with us through the year, I know by
ecular demonstration, having once seen a large
76
Never, oh! never thence removes,
And rears, unceasing, endless Loves.
sleeping mass of them taken, in January, from an
ancient coal-pit. It may be objected, that, if some
go, and Some remain, the goers and residents are
actuated by a different instinct, True: but as swal-
lows continue to hatch until nearly their time of
disappearing, may not instinct, as it is called,
teach the young ones that they have not strength
enough to accompany their parents in a voyage to
the tropics or equinoctial line? and may not the
great Being, whose mercy is over all his works, pre-
pare them for sleep during winter, since flies, their
only nutriment, cannot then be obtained 2 Are not
young birds always fatter than the old which feed
them 2 so that, while the parents are enabled, by
greater strength, to perform long flights, their issue
are better provided for a tedious fast. I can see
the benign disposition of our Creator, but nothing
irrational, in such conjectures.
Perhaps what has been said of swallows, is partly
true of quails. These are also birds of passage,
but not sleepers, which come in large flights from
Africa in the spring, breed here, and return before
the cold is disagreeable to them. Yet that many
(young ones, I suppose) remain in these countries,
77
Some half appear: some newly gain
Their wings; and some unhatch'd remain.
No silence dwells the broods among;
But ever chirp the callow young :
Loves upon Loves eternal press;
The larger educate the less;
And these in turn, when fully grown,
Produce an offspring of their own.
Ah! what affords some kind relief?
For language vainly paints my grief”.
and are shot in the winter-season, is a truth well
known to every fowler.
* ExConow..] Many of the critics reject this verb,
which is however defended by Mr. Barnes. For
the proposed corrections, see Pauw. The verb is
adopted by Catullus —
Ubi cymbalúm somat vor, ubi tympana reboant.
Mr. Barnes quotes an imitation of this ode by an
Italian nobleman, Count Guidobaldo Ronarelli, in-
a pastoral drama.
78
O DE XXXVII.
ON THE SPRING.
BEHo LD! the flow'ry spring arrives;
And slumb'ring Nature quick revives:
The roses gem: the boist’rous main
Forgets to rage, and smiles serene:
The wanton duck in water plays:
The stalking crane more boldly strays”;
And Phoebus lends a genial ray,
To cheer the bright'ning face of day.
See heav'n is cloudless, mild, and clear!
See rural toils refresh'd appear t!
* 'O3 wer.] The crane travels–A picturesque ex-
pression, and not unlike the spatiatur of Virgil.
Et sola in sicca secum spatiatur arena.
† Beorov seycz.] The works of men. These are pro-
perly towns, towers, &c. says Baxter: but he says
79
The olive buds; the teeming Earth
Calls forth her various plants to birth;
And now the vine, in early pride”,
Diffuses shoots on ev'ry side.
it without any kind of authority. How could he
suppose that architecture is improved by the re-
turn of spring?
" Nauz—x. +, ×.] What is here said of the vine,
appears to be much corrupted ; vowo, and xzézo,
should be in a description of autumn, not of
spring. Those who are fond of conjectural emen-
dation, may find guessing enough among the critics.
80
O DE XXXIX.
ON HIMSELF.
REPLEN ISH'D with liquor, well gladded my
heart,
Such force has the juice of the vine,—
Inspir’d and inflam'd with the musical art,
I sing to the praise of the Nine.
*. 2.
Replenish’d with liquor, the chaser of pain,
I feel neither sorrow nor care,
But give the hoarse tempest, which ruffles the
main,
To waft and disperse them in air.
3.
Replenish’d with liquor, my spirits restor’d,
Then Bacchus, a lover of play,
8t
While new-blowing roses their fragrance af-
ford,
Commands to be frolic and gay.
4.
Replenish'd with liquor, I weave me a tire,
In chaplets o'erjoy'd to be dress'd;
And, crowning my temples, I praise and admire
Tranquillity, freedom, and rest.
(5.
Replenish’d with liquor, Itake the perfume,
For beauty my bosom alarms—
Anoint me well over, a courage assume,
And catch the dear nymph in my arms.
6.
Replenish’d with liquor, high rais'd withaglass,
My heart is so free and dilated,
From sages and grave to the cheerful I pass,
And love with the young to be rated.
E 5
S2
7.
Good liquor alone is the gain we can have,
The only fix’d pleasure we boast:
The rest are all flitting, submit to the grave,
Forsaken, forgotten, and lost.
83
ODE XL.
ON CUPID.
As heedless Cupid chanc'd to rove
Where fragrant roses deck'd the gove
A bee, which lay the flow’rs among,
Unmark'd, his finger deeply stung.
Quick to his lips the wound apply'd,
He suck'd, he sooth'd, and loudly cry’d.
To Venus now, in trembling haste,
He ran, he flew, by pain oppress'd,
And “Mother, oh! assist your son
“Assist,” he cries: “I’m lost undone#!
* Oawaz–2700maxw.] Cupid, says Pauw, was not
such a fool, utut parvus et tenellus, praisertim ubi jam
arcu valebat, as to think himself in danger of death.
Nonne illud oxwaz, nonne illud aroſłynaxo, mimium est
in ore puer; immortalis –A truly ridiculous note
indeed . It is hardly worth observing that verbs,
$4.
“Pierc’d by a dragon—here you see—
“Swains call the monstrous snake a bee.”
“Think then,” the beauteous queen replies,
“If wounds can pain of such a size,
“What hapless man is doom'd to know,
“At whom you draw your deadly bow.”
which in strictness mean dying, expiring, &c. are
used, in most languages, to signify nothing more
than great uneasiness of body or mind.
O DE XLIII.
ON THE GRASS-HOPPER.
DEW-FED Tettix, happy thou",
Perching on a leafy bough
* Teſlić.] The tettir, or grass-hopper. M. Adan-
son the naturalist, when sailing up the Niger, was
delighted by the fine meadows, enlivened by grass-
hoppers of a beautiful green colour, variegated with
a lively red. In these parts of Europe, they are of
a dusky greenish colour, but, as in Afric, are con-
stantly on the ground: yet the Greek writers uni-
versally place them on the trees; a remarkable
difference made by different climes.
The Grecians, as appears from AElian, were used
in his time to eat those insects; which may be
thought strange by a reader who had no other ac-
count of them than what he collected from the
Grecian poets. But an authentic traveler informs
us that “ sometimes grass-hoppers do fall so thick
** in Constantinople, in the summer-time, and that
“ especially in June and July, that a man cannot
“ pass in the streets of Constantinople or Galata,
86
Happy, while you sit and sing,
Thron'd sublimely as a king”
Meadows, blossoms, all you see,
Ev'ry sweet belongs to thee.
Fav'rite songster of the swain,
Harmless to his tender graint;
“but he shall every where tread upon them; also
“ they fly so thick upon the tops of houses, that
“ they do cover the tiles. Besides, they are much
“greater than ours,” &c. This being the case,
we may readily believe that such persons might eat
the grass-hopper, as had a stomach and taste to eat
the locust. The song of it is merely hyperbolical;
it has a monotonous and hoarse chirp only; where-
fore IHomer justly compares the chat of old men on
a tower to the voice of a grass-hopper.
* Baataev, Śwo-J as a king. Since the creature
does no injury, this plainly regards its situation, not
its voice; thus we say, such a house commands all
the country round about it.
t Airo wo)evo; tı Gazºrov.] Pauw has much better
explained this passage than Mr. Barnes; verba tra-
jecta, says he ordo est, wroGazzºtov tº wºwog, nullius
quid laidens. To woºvo; respicit yeagyov pracedens.
Tales trajectiones sunt satis frequentes ; quanquam
87
All thy cheering notes adore,
Prophet of autumnal store.
Happy too in Phoebus' choice!
Phoebus gave thy little v ice.
Free from age's slow decline,
Pleasing thou to all the Nine.
Wise, harmonious, gentle, good,
Earth-born, void of flesh and blood”,
Whom no passions triumph o'er—
Sure the gods are scarcely moret !
Barnesius certe ita vertit; “ de nihilo quicquam
labdens.”—Then he proceeds as usual—quid mirum ?
ab ipsa infantia sua mugari did cerat bonus.
* Inhumana cicada. Mart.—Pliny observes
that insects have neither nervos, nec ossa, nec spinas,
nec cartilaginem, nec pinguia, nec carnes, nec crus-
tam quiden fragilem,-nec qua jure dicatur culis ;
sed media cujusdam, inter haic omnia, natura corpus.
t Xxºov et 0song woo; J You are almost like the gods.
This certainly has the most epigrammatical turn of
all the odes; and from the premises, according to
heathen mythology, the poet's conclusion is justly
drawn.
O DE XLIV.
ON HIS DREAM.
As LEEP and easy once reclin'd,
Methought I rose, had wings behind,
And quick and lightly flew ;.
When Cupid, still more wond’rous fleet,
Though lead oppress'd his little feet,
Pursu'd, and caught me too.
What means the vision ?—surely this:
I ramble now from bliss to bliss,
From nymph to nymph around:
But one, attractive o'er the rest,
Of all my captive soul possess'd,
Will hold it strongly bound *.
* “En rºe avy).0%va.] I must here give due praise
to M. Pauw. His alteration of this line may, I
think, be justly called a restoration: it is rational,
S9
easy, clear : instead of iv. rºs, he reads in rº, 3s.
How could the poet say, that he might escape from
others, but would be confined to this one? which of
the woxaol, the many, before mentioned? This, doubt-
less, stood in need of correction; and the slight al-
teration which Pauw has made, gives a fit answer to
the question proposed, and a desirable perspicuity
to all the ode. I wish that he had omitted his
rough conclusion, “the prattling of other commen-
“tators does nothing but make him sick.”—I should
have observed, that tº is here put for twº, which is
not without many examples.
9()
O DE XLV.
ON THE ARROWS OF CUPID.
WHEN Vulcan, obliging his goddess of charms,
At Lemnos had finish’d for Cupid some arms,
The queen in pure honey anointed them all:
But Cupid maliciously mix’d it with gall*.
* Meat—xoxºv suiayev.] This composition makes
the yaw.vmingov, the bitter-sweets of love; an epithet
familiar to every poet. We have an explanation
of this ode from our learned Bentley, and another
from M. Pauw.
Jaculum, says Bentley, ex vivo igne et atherio
Julgure constans, in Martis corpus se sponte insinu-
avit, ct recognitum latuit. Inde est allud avaarsvačws,
genutum et susperium ducens, ob vulnus sculicet, et
«gow avro, tolle quatso; quippe ºn antima corporis pene-
traverat. EX's vero &vro, tecum stroa, alt Cuptao 2r-
rºdents, qui Solus potwit extrahere, Sed noluit.
Mlara, mira, cries Pauw, sed nºmis Hercule mira;
quare ea captum meum longe superant, et aliud re-
quiro. Id autem ubi in altorum commentis non of.
9 1
Now Mars, who exults in the weight of his
lance,
From battle returning, and passing by chance,
Jendo, paucís, quod res est, tibi exponam, lector. Cum
Mars telum Cupidinis in manum sumsit, vis teli oc-
culta statim per poros se in manís íntima ìnsinuavit,
eamque omni robore ita prìvavit, ut deus telum manu
neque sustinere, neque emittere potuit; quia movendi
jacultas deest, et pro manu mortua potius haberi debet,
quam pro manu vìva. Sic omniu hic perspicua sunt
et plana. Mars nunc tenere debebat invitus, cum
cæteroquin ìd vel Cupidini reddere, vel manu emit-
tere, potuisset facile, &c.
I cannot agree with Bentley; for he does not
agree with mythology. It was never fabled that
Cupid's arrows woundcd spontaneously, and with-
out any force impressed: the bow was as necessary
to that little deity, as to an earthly archer. Beside,
our critic makes the weapon not only pierce into the
hand, but run up the arm, then turning at the
elbow, pass through the shoulder, where changing
its direction, it proceeds downward, in intima cor-
poris, by which we may suppose that he means the
heart. Thus, it is true fulgur, which never moves
in a right line, but always in different angles.
Pauw tells us that he has made every thing plain
92
Observ'd the young urchin accoutred, and
laugh’d,
Deriding the boy, and the size of his shaft.
“Though little,” says Cupid, “it seems
to the eye,
“You’ll find it is heavy:—here, takeit and try.”
Mars handled the weapon, nor thought of a
cheat :
and clear: but, in my judgement, he has made no-
thing but an absurd heap of confusion.—Why are
the virulent effluvia of Cupid's arrow confined to
the hand of Mars? why not taken up by the ves-
sels, and carried to the heart by a natural course of
circulation ? If the hand was senseless, what made
the god issue his vehement groans ? Why did not
the weapon fall by its own weight, unless the hand,
instead of being dead, griped it by the force of a
strong convulsion ? And what pleasure can we Sup-
pose the tender queen of love received on foresce-
ing that poor Mars would become an invalid, and
lose the use of a limb On the whole, I think we
may answer to Pauw as he does to Bentley, mira,
mira, sed mimis Hercule mira !
93
But Venus was pleas'd when he swallow'd the
bait.
“O Love l’’ cries the warrior, districted
with pain,
“'Tis wonderful heavy O! take it agains.”—
“Not so,” replies Cupid : “good Mars, you
must have it :
“Pray callit your own; for Iheartily gave it.”
* Bøgv.] This Ode, in my opinion, is no more
than a trick of Cupid, which he plays by using a
word of two different senses. Bagw; is literally heavy,
figuratively painful; and the mischief-loving ur-
chin, who never speaks what he thinks (Ow yog idow
rose was pSeyyetal, says Moschus) tells Mars, that,
however small in appearance his shaft may be, it is
in reality Gago. The plain soldier takes it without
any suspicion, to poise and try the weight of it in
his hand. Venus smiles, well knowing that Mars
would be quickly in her toils; and he, from the
contact of his hand with the poisonous weapon, be-
ing immediately filled with the pains of love, and
now, though too late, understanding the treache-
rous scheme of Cupid, exclaims, “Oh! I confess
*
94.
“ that it is Cagu, extremely painful: here, here,
“ take it again!”—“By no means,” says Cupid, de-
riding Mars in his turn; “I make you a present of
“ it, and request that you will keep it.”—I leave the
critics to their anatomical and physical disquisitions.
95
O DE XVLI.
ON A VARICIOUS LOVE.
'TIs hard to pine by Love oppress'd,
And hard to want the flatt’ring guest;
But hardest is the lot, to burn -
And sigh and grieve without return.
No more has virtue pow'r to move,
Nor sense can charm the fair to love:
'Tis gold alone, whose conqu'ring aid
Attacks the heart, and wins the maid*!
O! may the sordid wretch be curs'd,
Who priz'd that dang'rous metal first!
Through it, fraternal love retires,
And children mourn their careless sires.
* Agyvew 8×ersaw.] If lions were painters, says the
fable, the pictures of men, conquering lions, would
be extremely rare.
96
Through it, what barb’rous feuds arise!
What streams of blood! what endless sighs!
And lovers too, yet more severe,
Are spurn’d by all the venal fair”.
* Oxxvgeaba of pix8wre;..] Why lovers in general?
The rich may be lovers; and such, according to our
poet, are in no danger of any repulse. I suppose we
must understand this of poetical lovers; for the
Muses and Plutus have seldom been cordial friends.
97
O DE LI.
ON A DISCUS REPRESENTING VENUS.
HAs then some hand with art divine
Perform'd the beauteous, bold design,
O'er a small disk contriv'd to grave *
The wide-spread ocean's ev'ry wave 2
Though I am far from judging this little piece
to be correct, yet it contains some agreeable touches.
We have a pretty French print, entitled Vénus sur
les Eaux, which seems as if the engraver had taken
his drawing entirely from this ode. However,
Pauw calls it futile et ineptum; and then proceeds,
as usual, to correct it. Sometimes the modest cri-
tic informs us, that, if he had been at the elbow of
the poet, he would have instructed him how to
write. For my part, though it is clear enough that
many of these odes have been injured by tran-
scribers, yet, when I can elicit any sense from them,
I am satisfied, and leave to our critics their vague
conjectures. *
* Alaxy..] The discus was used formerly, as we use
F
98
Has then some genius, heav'nly taught,
The queen of charms completely wrought?
From whose amours the bless'd abodes
Receiv'd their new-born race of gods*.
Behold, he shews the fair undress'd
Above; for waves inclose the rest.
See how she moves | her hands divide
With graceful ease the swelling tide;
Close to her stroke apply'd, declin'd,
She rows and leaves the wave behind.
Now through a surge her breast above
The gentle goddess seems to move.
As shines the lily’s vivid hue,
When clos'd in viºlets’ dusky blue,
a sledge or a bar : it was cast for a trial of strength,
and not of skill. According to Eustathius, they made
it of iron or stone; when of iron, it went by the
name of 20Åog.
* Here Venus signifies the natural passion. See
Lucretius and others.
99
So, in the smooth, encircling brine,
Her charms celestial brightly shine”.
Mark, where Desire and Love, astride
On sportive dolphins, wanton ride!
How soft their looks how mild to view
How mild, yet how deceitful too !
Round the fair queen, the gºthing fry
Leap up, and joyous please her eye:
Around they leap, and shoot, and play,
Where Venus lightly skims the sea.
* Aizſpowera.] Shines through. In colours, a fl-
gure can be represented as under water: but to
suppose that it can be so done in metal, is rather
too violent a supposition.
*
| 00
ODE, LIII.
O N T H E R O S E.
.”
THE blooming rose, the flow'ry prime *
Of vernal sweets, inspires a rhyme.
Do you, my friend, the Muse obeyt,
In concert join, and aid the lay;
For this the gods celestial breathe;
This scent delights the world beneath;
* Met Yeos, wºrowo., 30}ow 9-gºvoy.] I celebrate the
summer-rose, together with the spring. If Segºvoy was
never used, and I cannot say that it was, to signify
e calyce protrusus, or blown, as most flowers are in
summer, I must leave the passage to critics, who
repair and remake, according to their different fan-
cies.
+ Xvy, irag-z, r. A.] My friend assist, &c. Da-
cier supposes this ode to be sung by the poet and
his friend, alternately: but of such a practice he
does not give any example.
i () I.
Of all the Graces this the joy,
And am’rous Venus loves the toy.
Hence bards this subject fondly chuse,
A grateful theme to ev'ry Muse—
Sweet flow'r to him who lonely strays
Through devious woods and thorny ways!
Each mirthful banquet, ev'ry board,
And Bacchus’ feasts, the rose afford.
What can be done without the rose;
Her rosy hands Aurora shows;
The nymphs appear with rosy arms;
And Venus blooms in rosy charms.
This healing plant hath pow'r to save,
Or lends its aid beyond the grave”,
Eludes ev’n time's destructive rage,
And holds its grateful scent in aget.
* Nineok.] The dead. Venus, with rose-oint-
ment, preserved the body of Hector.
f Tºga;..] Old age. The leaves, pulled off and
dried, retain an agreeable odour.
102
Sing now the mild, propitious hour,
Which gave the world this beauteous flow’r.
From ocean, lull'd to calm repose,
When love's wide-conqu'ring queen arose,
When heav'n and all its pow'rs, afraid,
Saw lab’ring Jove produce a maid,
'Twas then the rose, a glorious birth,
Sprang from its wond'ring parent, earth!
Now met the gods, and merg’d the leaves
Deep in their od’rous nectar-waves;
Gave the whole flow'r a splendid glow,
And on a thorn-bush made it grow *.
* Ano,04;..] A thorn. Here, I confess, we have an
exiguus mus, after such a flourishing panegyric!
How much more poetically just is our excellent
Milton, who says, that in Paradise, before Adam's
transgression, were
Flow’rs of all hue, and, without thorn, the rose.
103
ODE LIV.
O N H J M S E L F *.
Jo IN’D to a young and vigºrous choir,
I feel a youthful, vig'rous fire;
I feel warm blood through ev'ry vein,
And, wing’d by transport, dance again.
Attend, and bring the fillets, maidt
Weave rosy chaplets; crown my head:
* In this ode we have, veluti descripta tabella,
vita senis—an accurate picture of the poet.
+ Kvºda.] Whatever Pauw may assert to the
contrary, I take Cubeba to be the name of a servant,
and not of a partner in the dance. Steph. would
have a different word, which Pauw calls ineptissinia.
lectio, nuga mera. As to Madame Dacier, who
proposes to read ovſzów, he thinks that she would do
well, if she confined herself to the distaff:—a most
uncourtly critic, on a courtly poet! His words are,
misère calcutivit, et ea scripsit, qua fusum potius red-
olent, quan doctas librorum chartas,
{ 04.
I'll throw this cumb’rous age away,
And, 'midst the young, be young and gay.
O! let some kind and gen’rous friend
With Bacchus’ sparkling juice attend;
To see what strength inspires a sage,
Who knows to dance in spite of age,
Who knows to quaff with cheerful ease,
And madly toy, yet still to please”,
* Maynval.] The desipere in loco of Horace, and
xagºrrwg warnyar, are perfectly synonymous phrases,
105
O DE LV.
ON LOVERS.
THE horse, we observe, has a character on it;
And Parthians are guess'd by the shape of
their bonnet:
So they, in whom Cupid's warm passions abide,
Are clearly distinct from all creatures beside;
For each has a tenderness easily known #,
A softness peculiar to lovers alone.
* Ts; fewrtas, têoy sm to rap.' Ev003.] I shall here dis-
miss Pauw, having first transcribed his following
observation. Ineptissima evyoz, et ineptissima com-
paratio. An Ain'toy illud xxexywa in amantium Jºvić,
ita conspic: potcrat, ut ºrvgo; x&gaywo, in equorum
coris, et tiara in Parthorum capitibus 2 An exeo aman-
tes dignosci poterant, eodem modo, quo ex tiara Par-
thi, er signo inusto equi º Nihil Stultius, nihil ab ipsa
natura alienius. Attamen bonus id diserte affirmat
hic; simul ac widebat amantes, notani illam tenuem in
F 5
106
anima eorum videre poterat, et psum amorem ex ea il-
lico dignoscere. Ineptide, et ineptide mera, qua: Sto-
machum mihi cient. That is, in few words, “ the
“Ode is modern ; for the author is an absurd mira-
“ cle-monger, who pretends to see into the heart
of man.” Instead of a reply, which such nonsense
does not merit, I shall only give two quotations.
zºvlat, psiºz,
c * 3. &
Azzyra tºo, tº 8vycat ov, Taoy vow-z: T. A.
All things, my friend, can luik within,
But two ; and those are clearly seen:
No art or love or wine belies;
They shine conspicuous through the eyes.
FRAGM. ANTiPH,
Quamvis tegatur, proditur vultu fulor:
Erumpit oculis ignis
SEN E c. HIPP or .
I O7
O DE LX.
TO DIANA.
BEAUTEO US progeny of Jove,
Dian, goddess of the grove,
Huntress, whose unerring darts,
Pierce the roes and trembling harts,
come. oh ! come, propitious maid!
Lethe claims thy patron-aid.
View the town with friendly eyes”;
Mark their heart-emitted sighs;
Let your people, just, humanet,
Favour hope, nor hope in vain.
* IIoxw.] The city. Magnesia, on the river Lethe.
According to Callimachus, Diana obtained from Ju-
piter thirty towns, of which she was to be the only
(I suppose he means principal) deity.—Téº &ng rot.
wroxisºgo.—z. v. A.
t Ov yog owntºge;..] Not inhuman. We have 2.
108
story (by Plutarch, if I do not forget) of a poet who
celebrated the goddess for cruelty and delight in
blood; to which some auditor replied, “may she
“reward you with a daughter exactly of a similar
“ temper.” Our bard speaks a different language;
his address implies that Diana was pleased with
mildness and humanity. Beside, he is so far from
recommending the Magnesians on account of their
expensive sacrifices, (a practice of some less judi-
cious writers)—he is so far from boasting even of
their philanthropy and benevolence,—that he gives
them no more than a mere negative commendation,
ex annºtes;–a modesty very proper on such an oc-
casion,
109
O DE LXV.
ON GOLD THE DESERTER.
WHEN gold, as swift as stormy wind,
Flies off, and leaves me far behind,
I let the traitor freely go:
For who would chuse to hunt a foe?
Now quite remov’d the dang'rous ore,
Perplex’d with doubts and fears no more,
I bid the gath'ring blasts obey,
And waft my ev'ry care away *;
Then take the long-neglected lyre,
And sing and play to soft desire.
I have numbered this Ode according to the edi-
tion of Barnes,
* Thus Horace:
Tristitiam et metus
Tradam protervis in mare Creticum
Portare ventis
1 ſ (j
But, when my soul, grown firmly bold,
Unmov’d can view the charms of gold,
He quick returns in friendly guise,
With tipsy mirth, devoid of sighs,
Returns intent to spoil my vein”,
And make me shun the lyre again.
How long, oh gold! wilt thou essay
To lead my vig'rous mind astray ?
Above thy charms, I love the lyre,
And notes attun'd to soft desire.
* Q, wºnpoy Aven; yeworks.] It is an old complaint
that wealth is injurious to a poet. For, as Theocri-
£us observes, tº
‘A Trevia, Aſoſpawte, gowo, toº rexpo.; eyeigss.
'Tis poverty awakes the various arts.
To shew gold at a distance, is Vatibus addere cal-
car: for,
Si dolosi spes refulserit nummi,
Corvos poetas, &c. ———
Wherefore, says Parmel,
If their riches spoil their vein,
Ye Muses, make them poor again.
| 1 ||
Perfidious ore! by your deceits
The lyre is mute! and Love retreats.
'Tis you prevent our mutual bliss;
'Tis you disturb the sacred kiss”
And then, delusive, treach’rous, fly
To shine in some barbarian eye;
But first from me, oh base designſ
Try ev'ry lure to fright the Nine.
Know, that, 'till death the bliss refuses,
I'll touch the lyre, and court the Muses.
Then go, and cheat, where'er you go,
The starving wretch with empty show.
* @ºgaror.] Kisses. I do not understand what
the poet here means, unless he allude to what he
formerly observed, viz. that marriages are contract-
ed for interest, not affection.
1 12
O DE LXVI.
ON THE SPRING.
How pleasing now to lightly tread
With devious steps the flow'ry mead!
To feel soft Zephyr's cooling gale,
And all his od’rous breath inhale!
How blooms the vine ! what easy pleasure,
On shady banks to stretch at leisure
And, o'er the rest, how doubly sweet
A kind and beauteous nymph to meet !
Scaliger terms the style of Anacreon sweeter than
sugar : Pauw, who is always as singular as taste-
less, condemns most of the odes as perfect non-
sense: Burmes, on the other hand, has discovered
sublimity in them. But, without citing a list of ,
Greek authors who praise our bard, I think that
we may safely rely on the judgement of Horace, that
Anacreon was a light, airy, familiar, and agreeable
1 13
poet. That he was light, easy and familiar, is sig-
nified, as I think, by lusit Anacreon ; and non de-
levit attas implies that they were agreeable to every
palate. Does not the present ode well justify the
opinion of Horace?
114.
O DE LXVII*.
ON HIS Of..D AGE.
'Tis past! my feeble nerves decay !
My locks are sadly chang'd to grey !
Slow creeps the blood through ev'ry vein;
No teeth, or useless teeth, remain.
Invidious Time prepares the dart,
And I, oh hapless soon depart +
* This number in Barnes is LVI. but, as these
odes may be numbered ad libitum, I place it last;
for it makes a just conclusion to a life of ebriety,
love, and dissipation. º
t Ovº ºr ºrožºo;-Xgovo;-x. T. A.] A small portion
of life remains. Suidas quotes a passage from Me-
necrates, a comic poet, which may well be applied
to the present ode.
Togo.g., 37&V Pºev arº, 72; evXeras’ my 3. nor’ tºº,
Map.pstat—k. T. A.
In youth, all wish for length of years,
Yet blame their age, when age appears.
-
1 15
This bids my gath'ring tears to flow:
I dread the hideous scenes below;
I dread o'er hell’s uncheerful coast
To flit, a wand'ring, gloomy ghost;
Convinc'd that he, whom Fates dissever
From present life, is gone for ever.
I 16
The following little piece, a jeu d'esprit of some
anonymous writer, is added to his edition of
Anacreon, by the eminent Mr. Barnes.
EPITH ALAMIU M.
FAIR Venus, queen of realms above!
And prince of mortals, conqu'ring Love /
Young Hymen, whose propitious care
Renews the parent in his heir
You, pow'rs divine, we joy to praise;
For you, attempt the nuptial lays.
Thrice happy youth! arise ! arise!
And seise the partridge ere it flies.
O Stratocles, whom Venus loves,
Whom fair Myrilla's self approves,
With rapture mark thy charming bride,
How fresh in beauty's early pride
As, midst of flow’rs, supremely glows
The blush of some new-op'ning rose,
117
Myrilla, with celestial air,
So blooms, a rose among the fair.
But see the night has stol’n away!
Your bridal bed receives the day *!
* baws...] Literally, the sun shews your bedcham-
ber. Mr. Barnes is here scarcely to be pardoned;
he has discarded the original word, and substituted
another of his own without any sort of authority;
though perhaps a reader may think that the passage
is so far from being mended, that it suffers ex-
tremely by the change. Pro panes, says he, malo
©2wo, wt congruat cum repuzot. AEnigmatice marem
Myrilla Sobolem optat ; Apollo enim, in mythologica
illa cum Hecate contentione, hominem protulit. But
where shall we find a poet, who, in a panegyric on
a young beauty, would introduce a female monster
of hell ? What relation to Hecate has Myrilla 2 A
critic surely does enough, who gives what he thinks
a correction, in his notes. Even admitting polyot,
I do not comprehend how it implies a wish of male
offspring, or indeed any rational wish at all. Be-
side, what appears incorrect or unintelligible to one
commentator, may seem perfectly correct and ob-
vious to another.
Instead then of “ may the sun shew your bed-
1 18
May ev'ry joy on both attend,
Nor cease your joys till life shall end.
chamber”—keep the original—“ but the sun shews
your bedchamber"—and it gives a clear, natural,
easy thought. Every one knows that marriages
were not celebrated, among the Greeks or Romans,
until evening. Hence we find the common ad-
dress to Hesperus, or the evening star. In long
summer-days, it is more than probable that Sol
arose, before the mirth and festivity, usual on such
occasions, were entirely at an end; wherefore the
poet very justly stops short, and observes to the
new married couple—but you are too long detained
asunder: the sun is risen on your bedchamber, and
finds it is empty still. The concluding wish is plain
enough, but cannot bear a literal version.
i 19
Mr. Barnes has collected twenty small produc-
tions which he terms Epigrammata Anacreontis; by
which he means nothing else than inscriptions; for
some of them are epitaphs, as
Here lies Timocritus.-Oh partial grave!
You spare the coward, and destroy the brave!
Others are dedications, as
To Phabus sacred hangs this faithful shield,
Defence of Python through the dang'rous field.
Two may be called epigrams, according to the
most usual acceptation of the word.
On a brazen Heifer by Myron.
Away, ye herdsmen feed your herds apart,
Unmix’d with Myron's wond’rous work of art;
Lest you mistake—mistake you easy may—
And drive the statue with the rest away.
On the same.
This heifer, sure, is chang'd by time alone
To brass; and Myron boasts the work his own.
190
We have another little poem in the collection,
which breathes the disposition and temper of our
elegant poet : but I know not how to give it a suit-
able title; for it is not a dedication, nor an epitaph,
nor an epigram in any sense of the term ; nor can
I say that it is a fragment; and it is too short for
an ode. However, as the bard might have sung
and played it in some friendly and agreeable com-
pany, perhaps we had best call it by the modern
name, a catch.
I love not him, who o'er his gen’rous wine
With horrid wars our wounded ear assails,
But him, who, charm'd with Venus and the Nine,
Immixes sprightly jests and am’rous tales.
I shall conclude with a few observations on the
authenticity of these odes.
1. Horace says that
*-- dicunt arsisse Bathyllo
Anacreonta Teium,
2ui persape cava testudine flewit amorem, &c.
And yet, instead of persape, we have not, on that
subject, one plaintive ode in the whole collection.
| 2 |
2. It can hardly be supposed that any poet, ex-
cept a very mean one, would disgust his reader with
a long string, a crambe repetita, of songs on drink-
ing, in which there is not the smallest attempt at
any kind of variety. They all seem as if intended
for nothing else than so many paraphrases on the
epitaph of Sardanapalus, as I observed before.
3. The poetical taste is widely different in the
different compositions. E. g. The natural painter
of drunken man (Ode XXVI.) could not be guilty
of that monstrous image, a drunken, dancing bird
(Ode IX.) Who can read Ode III, in which Cupid
gains admittance to, and wounds the author by a pret-
ty device, and yet ascribe it to the same hand which
wrote Ode LIX? for the latter, if not quite ridi-
culous, is, at best, but a mean conceit: here the
poetaster finds Cupid in some roses, seises him by
the pinions, sinks him in a glass of wine, and drinks
him down, but is tormented by the feathers of the
little archer, which tickle him so constantly, that
he cannot get any relief-To produce but one ex-
ample more, out of a large number which might
be collected, the conclusion of a panegyric on the
grass-hopper is just, terse, and epigrammatical,
whereas the conclusion of that on a rose entirely
spoils the whole.
4. If to these reasons we add that very strong
G
199
one, quoted from Suidas by all the critics, viz. that
Anacreon wrote every thing in the Ionic dialect,
(which can by no means agree with the present
collection), it seems highly probable that time has
left us but a small portion of his genuine odes, and
that most of those, now ascribed to our cheerful
bard, should be called Anacreontics only, or imita-
tions of that elegant poet. *.
TRAN SLATIONs,
IMITATIONS,
&c. &c.
TRANSLATIONS,
&c.
F. R O M BIO N.
IDYLLIUM II.
A sport.ING boy, in hopes to find
And catch in traps the feath’ry kind,
Went to a thick and devious grove,
Where little birds were us’d to rove.
There, as he watch'd, he chanc'd to see
Young Cupid perching on a tree:
The boy observ'd, with joyful eyes,
How large the bird, how rich the prize.
126 ... wº
Now, all his traps securely bound",
He mark'd the archer flutt’ring round.
At length, grown tir’d, and vex'd at heart,
That vain and useless prov’d his art,
He went and brought a friendly sage,
From whom he learn’d to make a cage,
Show’d him the wondrous bird, and how
It perch'd, quite careless, on a bough.
The sire look’d at it, gently smil’d,
And thus, in kindness, warn'd the child:
“Forbear, my child retire in haste,
Nor wish to catch that dang'rous beast.
Live free and easy while you can ;
For, when you gain the size of man,
•k Tøg x27&p,0; &zo. 72 vºto.g., x. A.] - Joining all the
reeds, (traps) &c. in order to make one large enough
to contain so great a bird; for we must suppose that
the young bird-catcher's traps were prepared before
he came from home,
127
Good cause you’ll find, the beast to dread:
Unask'd, he’ll seise your anxious head”.”
* Kaſpaway sºrt ceio zczºśst.] He will sit on your head.
The old poets seat love in the liver, or in the heart;
but if imagination is resident in the sensorium, then
all the passions must abide, of consequence, in the
head.
I 28
B I O N.
IDYHLLHUM VI.
CLEODAMUS AND MYRSON.
CLEO DAM U.S.
SINCE here we sit, of leisure hours possess'd,
Tell me which season charms you o'er the rest:
Do summer scenes your chief attention gain,
Which yield some respite to the lab’ring
swain * P
Perhaps rich autumn charms your fancy more,
When want is banish’d from our country store:
Love you the winter? does your wish require
To chat at ease before a social fire?
* Ploughing, &c. being over, and harvest not
begun.
129
Or in spring's beauty do you most rejoice?
Speak, now, what season claims your favºring
voice?
MYRSON .
We must not blame the works which heav'n
design'd;
For each is useful in its diff'rent kind.
Howe'er, I’ll tell, my friend, at your request,
Of all the seasons, which I judge the best.
I love not summer: from its stifling heat”,
We pant for shade, and languidly retreat.
Autumnal months I cannot justly praise:
The fruits they give us, give severe disease.
Who of the bleak and wint'ry months can boast?
* ‘Aato, owth.] The sun burns ºne. This complaint
belongs not to us, but to the southern poets.
O 1 qui me gelidis in vallibus Hami
Sistat, et ingenti ramorum protegat umbra ! Virg.
§
G 5
I 3()
I dread the snow; I dread pernicious frost.
O! that fair spring alone would form the year,
When neither snows nor shiv'ring frosts appear!
In spring all nature blooms supremely gay,
And length of night is equal’d by the day *.
* Nvá &v%07rotow ico, z. A.] Night and day are
equal. Equinox, succeeding the gloomy and short
days of winter, is doubtless extremely grateful; but,
in our latitude, to survey the works of Nature, as
they are vulgarly called, on a fair, long summer's
morning, as well as at and after sunset in the even-
ing, is perfectly delightful to a considerate mind.
The questions and answers contained in this idyl-
lium have such a natural simplicity, as, in my judge-
ment, is well suited to pastoral writing.
I 31
FR O M M OS C H U S.
IDYLLIUM I.
L OVE, THE DES E R TE R.
YE swains, cry’d Venus, ºf ye chance to see
A rambling Cupid, he belongs to me.
Who finds him, merits an ambrosial kiss;
Who back conducts—a more substantial bliss".
Thesemarks will show him: fi’ry are his eyes;
And honey’d speech a treach’rous heartbelies.
Provok'd, he grows implacable; the boy
Has something cruel in his ev'ry joy.
His little hands immensely far can throw,
And pierce the monarch of the realms below.
* IIAsov ièst;..]
Hwëc aliud mercedes erit— Virg.
139
His skin is naked, with a careless air;
But deep his schemes,and hid with anxious care.
From sea to sea he flies, from land to land,
And in the bosom takes his fav'rite stand.
Though small the arrows,small the bow of Love,
He oft severely wounds the pow'rs above.
His tears are dang'rous; dang'rous are his smiles.
Bind fast the cheat: his ev'ry act beguiles.
The golden quiver fi’ry shafts contains,
And I have felt them rankling in my veins:
All, all are cruel! Swains, be cautious ! shun
His little torch its flame outburns the sun.
Where'er the villain lurks, if haply found,
To me produce him, but securely bound.
His lips, though offer'd you in friendly guise,
Rejectſ in each a secret poison lies.
Should he say, “take my arms,” his base desire
Escape; for all are tipp'd with deadly fire.
133
M OS C H U S.
IDYLLIUM VI.
A BABBLING Echo Pan admir’d; and she,
A skipping Faun; and beauteous Lyda he.
As Pan his Echo, so the nymph desir’d
Her Faun, who Lyda's stubborn heart requir’d.
Thus each revenge in turn to each supply'd,
Lov’d those who hated, and who lov’d deny'd.
Ye gentle fair, not yet inclin'd to know -
What secret joy from ties connubial flow,
Regard your swains alone who fondly burn;
Their grateful hearts will love for love return.
T H E
NUPTIAL POEM
OF
C A TU L L U.S.
Y O U THS.
MARK, youths, where Hesper shows his beau-
teous light,
And, long expected, gilds the dusky night!
Quit, then, your flowing bowls, nor idly stay;
The ready bride demands a nuptial lay. |
Hymen / 0 Hymen 1 lend your patron ear!
Hymen! propitious to our feast appear!
MAIDS.
See, maids, the choir of youths Their verse
oppose.
135
Now spacious heav'n with fires CEtaean glows:
See, how they spring impatient! Maids, arise,
And, from their joint exertions, bear the prize.
Hymen 10 Hymen &c.
Y O U THS.
No easy palm awaits, O friends, the verse,
When maids their parts with studious care re-
hearse;
Nor vain their study seems; each well-turn’d
line,
Exactly polish'd, will be half divine.
Care gives a conquest: we shall lose the bays,
Whose ears and fancies rove through diff'rent
ways.
Then, more attentive, let us bravely vie:
The maids begin, and we in turn reply.
Hymen l 0Bymen l &c.
136
MAIDS.
Is there, like Hesperus, a star severe,
Which from her home secludes a trembling
fair—
Which gives to ardent youth such heav'nly
charms, -
Rent from a mother's soft encircling arms P
What act more cruel can a town deform,
Which foes have enter'd by a furious storm 2
Hymen / 0 Hymen l &c.
Y O U THS.
Is there, like Hesperus, a star benign,
Which in firm compact joins, with rites di-
vine?
Our friends may previous meet, our sires
agree ;
But all the dear conclusion leave to thee;
137
What can or youth receive, or heav'nly pow'r
Bestow, superior to the joyful hour P
Hymen 10 Hymen l &c.
MAIDS.
Hesper, Omaids, now steals ourgentle friend—
Thy dread approach the sleepless watch attend;
All thieves in darkness lurk, with treach’rous
aim,
Whom you detect, when call’d a diff'rent
name*.
Hymen 1 OHymen l &c.
Y O U THS.
Yes, fav'rite star! all love your nightly fire:
But maids calumniate what their souls desire.
Hymen! OHymen &c.
* In the morning called Phosphorus, or Lucifer.
138
MAIDS.
As in a garden springs a lovely flow'r,
Which ploughs nor bruise, nor hungry flocks
devour; *
Through its bright leaves while Zephyrs gently
play,
And Sol confirms them with his genial ray;
Admir’d by all, it blooms supremely fair,
Of youths the passion, and of maids the
C3 T€,
But should some hand, with more than im-
pious force,
The stalk nutritious from the flow'r divorce,
It droops; it fades; its ev'ry charm retires:
No nymph approves it, and no swain desires.
So fares the beauty; while a sprightly maid,
By nymphs she's honour’d, and by swains
obey'd ;
139
But if in wedlock snar'd through specious lore,
The maids reject her, and no youths adore.
Hymen / 0 Hymen I &c.
YOU THS,
As, in some field, neglected grows the vine,
Nor bout a purple flood of gen’rous wine;
Unprun'd, confus'd, and grov'ling on the plain
It lies, a cumbrous nuisance to the swain;
But, when its boughs on vig'rous elm rely,
The plant, now fruitful, pleases ev'ry eye.
So the weak virgin, who untouch'd appears,
May dully move from youthtowrinkling years;
But if, in time, she yields to nuptial rites,
Her sire and bridegroom feelunknown delights.
Youthen, fair nymph, consent! The am’rous
boy
From pow'r parental hopes the secret joy.
140
Northink a virgin sole commands her heart;
The father claims, the mother claims, a part:
Those for the youth their sev’ral shares design;
Then add to theirs, O beauteous maiden, thine.
Hymen! 0 Hymen l lend your patron ear!
Hymen! propitious to our feast appear!
A FAMILIAR IMITATION
OF
H O R. A. C. E.
Lib. i., Epist. 4.
SINCE you, my friend, without a courtly sneer,
Can sit on oak, and feast on country cheer,
To supper come, and come in easy guise,
Ere Phoebus sets, or noxious damps arise.
Light is my claret; *** is strictly true;
Th’ importer he, the vintage fifty-two.
For meat, the brook can eels and trouts supply,
My barn a chicken, and my doves a pie.
Add that Pomona, o'er vicarial land,
Her fruits diffuses with a bounteous hand.
If more than such your better tithes afford,
Dress when you please; and I’llattend the board;
If not, your fav'rite Chillingworth resign,
142
For social converse, harmless mirth, and wine.
Since this faireveprecedes th’auspicious morn,
On which, thank heav'n, our George the good
was born,
We'll sit, uncensur'd, chat the hours away,
Till light appears, then grateful toast the day.
Plagu'd with no doubts, unanxious for an heir,
Free from lean av’rice, and the frown severe,
Be mine to quaff, or stretch in careless ease;
And fools may call me thoughtless, if they
please.
What cannot wine perform P. Its genial fire
To am’rous youth restores the tott’ring sire;
It arms the coward hand, revives the brave,
Strikes off his fetters from the lab’ring slave;
Nay, bids ev'n B”y fearless ope the door,
And give (strange pow'r?) one farthing to the
poor!
143
Though little cost adorns my friendly treat,
At least the furniture is plainly neat:
Each knife, well whetted, cuts exactly keen;
In each bright dish your face is clearly seen;
The cloth is fair as Kitty's wondrous breast:
And all may satisfy an easy guest.
Nor dread, my friend, to see a motley train
Of clam’rous blockheads, or of pertly vain:
I hate disputes, and hold this gen'ral rule,
'Tis fretful labour to oppose a fool.
No barrister, who, joy'd himself to hear,
Refuses quarter to the wounded ear;
Who –in the hall, unworthy of a part —
To spoil good liquor, keeps his terms of art:
No rev'rend doctor, with important face,
Who palms stupidity for heav'nly grace;
O'er whose broad head fat WaWes unwieldy flow,
Impartial emblems of the brains below;
144
Who in polemics shows Herculean pow'r,
When not oppos'd, and dulls the festive hour:
None such expect: —I’ll bid a sprightly few,
Or leave the choice of company to you.
These are my terms: if grateful these, attend,
And quit a wife, one night, to please a friend.
145
FROM THE SAM E AUTHO R.
Lib. i., Epist. 10.
HEALTH to my friend, if, midst of odious
smells
And putrid air, the goddess safely dwells.
You love a city, I a country scene,
The devious wood, the grot, the flow'ry plain.
In this your taste seems oddly form'd to me;
In all things else our twin-like souls agree.
At town I sicken, pine, am scarce alive,
But, fann’d by od’rous gales, again revive.
I hateyour feasts, and, like some priest, lament,
Who spurns at turbot near the close of lent.
Suppose that Nature's unerroneous voice
Led you unbiass'd in your ev'ry choice,
|H
146
Where would you build? what site would
justly please,
With freedom, health, content, and virtuous
ease ?
Such joys (nor partial think them meanly small)
The fields must give, if man receives at all.
No dog-day scorches here: the sultry hour
Is pass'd unheeded in a friendly bow'r:
Nor frost disturbs us, of our health secure;
For, if intense, ’tis here intensely pure.
Think you, the ponded water, tasteless, dead,
Or creeping slow through half-chok'd pipes
of lead,
As ours, is pleasant, or as brightly shines,
Which gives you music, as itself refines?
Or glow the carpet-dies as richly gay
As Nature's vivid blooms in flow'ry May 2
Plead as you will for grandeur, pomp, and art,
147
A taste for Nature lurks in ev'ry heart:
With joy your cits inhale a country breeze;
Their Sunday-walks do justice to the trees.
Securer he, unconscious of deceit,
Who trusts attorneys with his whole estate,
Than he who, judging like the senseless throng,
Confounds the diff'rent paths of right and
wrong.
Methinks I see you, fool’d by court grimace,
Admire the candour of His faithless Grace;
So easy, so familiar, you and he,
Promotion follows in a large degree.
“Indeed he smiles”—Experience wisely trust—
He leers on all, but falsely on the just.
Frowns might his pains or malice clearly tell;
But smiles inform you, that—the man is well.
Know then, from such, (nor vainly more apply)
The mark of friendship is a barb’rous lie.
148
“Wellſ but he promis'd”—This your safety
Pray,
Are you expert, at cards and dice to play ?
What slut, what fav'rite pimp, your cause be-
friends P
What votes have you, to serveHisCrace's ends?
“Does then no worth support my fond desire?”
It does, I grant; so, timely, friend, retire.
Worth he regards it as a fright'ning elf,
And hates the obvious contrast to himself.
Your humble cot and frugal country store
Suffice for Nature: learn to ask no more.
Return, unruin’d yet; attend your land;
Drain, till, improve, and heav'nly peace
command;
Then sit, and laugh (for cause you'll quickly
find)
At all the dangling slaves you left behind.
149
For me, if e'er the chase of flatt’ring gold
You find me urge, though reason warns to
hold,
In turn correct, avert the deadly blow,
Plain as a friend, and sharply as a foe.
Here on a tomb, adorn'd in ancient style,
Where Gothic art once form'd a costly pile,
Where faithless stones now scarcely name the
dead,
And plaintive redbreasts warble o'er my head;
Where ivy'd oaks a friendly shade diffuse,
And all with sober thoughts inspire the Muse,
I sit and write, to anxious care unknown,
And nothing want but your return alone.
| 50
©(2KYAIAO'ſ IIOIHMA.
T H E
ADMONITORY POEM
OF
PHOCYLIDES.
SHUN furtive marriage; shun the base desire
Of male embraces : ev'ry fraud refuse;
Nor stain with human blood your impious
hands.
Live on the fruits of care; enjoy your own,
Nor sigh for riches purchas'd with injustice.
Lies are mean arts: let every word be truth.
Serve the Great Cause of all, admire, adore;
And parents honour in the next degree.
With Justice walk; nor from her sacred path
I51
Should fear or favour turn your steps aside.
Despise not poverty, nor judge severe
Of form exterior : know, the Pow'r Divine
Impartial views it, and will judge the judge.
Abhor false witness: keep virginity*:
Speak what is honest, and, in all, be faithful.
Give weight abundant, nor impel the beam
To sink fallacious as your hand requires.
Shun perjury, design'd or undesign'dt;
For heav'n observes, and hates the perjur’d
villain.
Steal not seed-corn; and pay the lab'ring hind
His wages well-deserv'd; nor vex the poor.
Guide the rude tongue: do injury to none;
And stay the hand which means it to another.
* i.e. until marriage; for the poet thinks celibacy
a preternatural state.
t As by swearing to do something, which after-
ward is forgotten or neglected.
I 52
Bid not the starveling beggar come to-morrow:
Relieve the indigent: receive the stranger
With open arms, and lead the helpless blind.
Pity the shipwreck'd : he who tempts the sea
Deserves it well, as ev'ry hour in danger.
Think that misfortunes are the lot of all :
Life is a wheel, and happiness unstable.
If thou art rich, thank heav'n which freely gave,
And give as freely to thy wanting neighbour.
Let all be harmony, and peace, and love.
Use not the sword; but, if it must be drawn,
In self-defence employ it. I could wish
The wasting blade were never seen at all.
You kill an enemy but hath not he,
Who kill'd an enemy, destroy'd a man,
And thus embru’d his deadly hands in blood P
Move not your neighbour's land-mark, nor his
fruits
153
Malicious hurt, nor spoil his rising crop.
Treat ev'ry stranger like a citizen ;
For most have felt the stings of poverty.
Wealth is a fatal lure, and avarice
The fruitful parent of unnumber'd vices.
O gold! thou head of ills! thou cank’ring
SOre
Of human life! how doth my soul repine
That mortals love thee, precious, shining cheat!
From thee what wars, what slaught’ring feuds,
arise !
Thou turn'st the course of Nature, bidd'st the
SOI.]
With impious enmity pursue the sire,
And mak’st a brother rise against a brotherſ
Speak honest truth, and scorn the subterfuge
Of mental reservation; nor appear
A polypus, and change in ev'ry site.
H 5
154
Base is the man who with premeditation
Unjustly acts; but whom necessity
Compels to frauds, is but a partial knave.
In ev'ry deed, consider the design.
Swell not with pride for wisdom, strength, or
riches:
Mortals have none to boast: one Pow'r alone
Is rich, omniscient, and omnipotent.
'Tis vain to grieve at evils which are past;
For what is done can never be recall’d.
Restrain your hand, and bridle furious anger;
For, when indulg’d, it gives a loose to blows,
And murder follows oft, though undesign'd.
Be kind and humble: luxury begets
Immoderate desires; and opulence
Is, in its nature, haughty and disdainful.
The virtuous emulate, and not the bad.
A steady purpose much assists the honest,
I 55
But makes the villain worse. Let venery,
Which brings disgrace, give way to love of
virtue. ſ
Eat, drink, and speak, do all in moderation.
Excesses shun, and keep the golden mean.
Free from dark envy live: superior pow'rs,
Pleas'd with their stations, envy not each other.
Look round the world; observe the pallid
moon;
She envies not the ſun's all-glorious orb :
This earth, unenvious, humbly views the heav'n
Stretch'd far above her: all, content, agree.
Should discord actuate the pow'rs divine,
This whole creation must at once be ruin'd.
Live temperate: avoid obscenity:
Nor study deep revenge; for soft persuasion
Bids strife to cease: but strife engenders strife.
Trust not too soon; but ever mark the end.
156
Outdo the kind in kindness. "Tis far better
|
To treat a stranger with immediate welcome,
Though frugal, than with formal, feign'd de-
lays.
Be not to poverty an usurer.
Let none attempt, who rob a nest of young,
To seise the parent bird, but give her liberty;
And other future broods shall pay the ransom.
'Tis not the office of a fool to judge:
Let wise teach wisdom, artists teach their arts.
He can’t improve, who cannot learn to hear.
Flee the base sycophant; nor think to find
A friend in him who loves thy board alone,
And serves the time, insatiably rapacious.
Trust not the crowd: the crowd is ever various,
Like fire and torrents, not to be restrain'd.
Ev’n in devotion chuse the middle way.
Entomb the dead, nor impious tear the graves
157
Of those who rest in peace. The sun abhors
So foul a sight; and heav'nly vengeance fol-
lows.
Touch not their poor remains; for Hope de-
clares *
That man shall rise from earth to light again,
Survive his earthly spoils, and live immortal.
Souls bloom corruptless, though the frames de-
Cay, t
Breath'd from the Godhead in the formof God.
Our bodies, shap'd of dust, to dust return”;
* Some heathen philosophers acknowledged the
immortality of spirit, but considered the body as a
prison or sepulcre which impeded the force and
activity of the soul. Revelation has opened to us
a different scene: the body must be raised, and
again connected with spirit: for experience seems,
to prove, and Scripture is far from contradicting
it, that neither our bodies nor spirits can possibly
act divisin. Now, since ineffable goodness intends
us for eternal happiness, not by totally altering and
158
But the free spirit soars aloft to heav'n.
Where is the use of riches to a mortal
Who cannot bear his hoarded heaps away P
The stroke of death makes ev'ry station equal;
But Heav'n disposes of the soul at pleasure.
A king shall boast his regal pomp no more :
The starveling beggar, ev’ry vulgar dead,
Must join his side, and use one common
mansion.
Born but to die, these bodies soon decay;
Yet, in perpetual vig'rous youth, the soul
Survives her prison, and for ever blooms.
Nor fortune prosp’rous should exalt the mind,
Nor adverse damp it. Serve necessity:
new modeling human nature, but by rendering the
corruptible part of us incorruptible, we may per-
ceive, if the expression be allowable, the necessity of
a resurrection. St. Paul does not put the question,
wherefore, but in what manner, or how, is the body
to be revived at the general day of judgement 2
1.59
'Tis vain to blow thy breath against a storm.
Bless'disthe man whom pow'rful words attend;
For reason conquers more than conqu'ring
steel.
The plastic Cause has furnish’d all with arms:
Birds have their wings, the lion nerves robust;
The steer presents his horns; the little bee
Hides a sharp sting; but man above them all
Exults in reason, as his strong defence.
Strength must submit to wisdom; wisdom tills
The fruitful country, builds the stately towns,
And guides a vessel through the boist’rous sea.
Hide not delinquents from their due desert;
For oft the stroke of vengeance hits the jus
When 'midst the wicked, nor with-holds the
blow.
Shun what is stol’n; for who the theft receives,
Maintains the fraud, and is himself a thief.
160
Give each his own: of future want beware.
Your cattle fodder with a bounteous hand;
And, if a beast should in the road be fall'n,
Upraise it, though an enemy's possession.
Assist the wand’rer: sure 'tis worthy praise,
Instead of enmity, to gain a friend.
Prevent a growing evil: heal a wound.
Eat not what beasts have torn; but let the dogs
Receive such offals: beasts should beasts de-
v0UIſ.
Abstain from pois'nous arts and sorcery.
Treat the soft infant with a gentle hand.
Sedition hate. The man may sow the ocean,
Who hopes return of kindness from the wicked.
Your hands should minister to ev'ry Want, as
sloth
Is ever prone to theft; nor basely wait
To catch the fragments of another's table.
161
You dine reproachless when the board's your
OWI1,
Bred to no useful art, employ the spade.
This world affords variety of scenes
Which give a choice for labour. View the sea;
How spacious is it, if you love to sai!!
For tillage, see how widely spread the fields!
Man should from labour hope his ev'ry meal;
For ev'n the pow'rs celestial have employs;
And Toil is Virtue’s immemorial friend.
Learn from the ant: she leaves her humble
cell,
When now the fields, new-shorn, have stor'd
the barns, -
And wide expatiates in laborious search
Of little grains. Pleas'd with her cumb’rous
load,
She urges and encourages the next.
162
Small, but industrious people! all, intent,
Autumnal fruits provide for wint'ry store.
Or mark the bee: her fragrant combs she builds
Deep in a cavern, or some ancient oak.
Live not unmarried; Nature's self com-
mands
That thou should'st form a rising progeny,
And give that life which she hath giv'n to thee.
'Tis base to prostitute a wife; you blot
Indelibly your legal sons, and find
The spurious issue dissolute and base”.
* The original runs thus: Do not prostitute a wife,
&c.
Ov yag riºrs, rai?z; pois; woxºo. Atwrºg.
I suppose that àuois; relates to their characters, not
their persons. It has long been observed, that bas-
tards make an idle, debauched, and useless set of
men; which happens, I believe, partly from the
vile example before their eyes, and partly from their
education, which is, in general, much neglected.
163
Touch not thy father's second joys; but know
That she, who fills the place thy mother held,
Should, like a mother, be rever'd and honour’d.
Shun am’rous commerce with thy sister; shun
Thy father's harlot: let their beds be sacred.
How black the deed, to slay with impious art
A harmless fetus, or to throw the child,
New-born, a prey to rav’ning dogs and vul-
tures
Base is the wretch, who lifts his shameless
hand,
ſ And to a pregnant consort deals a blow.
Despoil not manhood: Nature meant the boy
To multiply. Shun foul bestiality:
Nor contumelious gibe the virtuous bride.
Attend to Nature in your ev'ry act.
Male brutes indignant flee a male embrace;
Nor should the female imitate the male.
164
Permit not love to rule with boundless sway:
Love is no god; 'tis but a secret passion.
Tempt not a brother's wife to be disloyal :
Let each with conjugal affection treat
His gentle spouse. What charms the fancy
more
Than some fond pair, who pass their smiling
hours
In perfect unison, from youth to age?
Chuse wives with caution: studious flee the
vile;
Nor yield to woman, like a slave to gold,
That ruling pow'r which Nature gave the
IIlall.
Strange, that we search with care for gen’rous
steeds,
With care chuse dogs, and buy the lab’ring ox,
And yet are heedless in our choice of women !
165
Though base the man, if rich, he'lfgain the fair.
Be not too fond of frequent marriages:
Wedlock, repeated oft, adds ill to ill.
Parents, be tender; if your son transgresses,
Let the fond mother's gentle hand correct him,
Some friend dispassionate, or graver sage.
Trick not with female arts the rip'ning boy;
Plait not his hair, nor wave the flowing curl;
But leave such foppish ornaments to girls.
A blooming youth requires your strict atten-
tion;
The world is vicious: close immur'd the girl
Should live, nor, ere her spousals, loosely ram-
ble.
Of beauteous children arduous is the care.
Be kind and constant where the ties of blood
Require affection: if you meet a sire,
Whose hoary locks remind you of your father,
166
& tº
Revere, give place, and like a father treat
him *.
Let servants have a plenteous board, and slaves
No scant allowance; nor impress them o'er
;
With hateful marks of servitudet; nor bear
* No people in Greece were so remarkable fo
observing this rule as the Lacedemonians. I have
somewhere read a narrative, to the following pur
pose: – An old man, intending to see the *
games, happened to go first to the Athenian seats;
here several young men rose, as if to accommodate
him; but, on his approach, they quickly took thei
places: the old man, thus disappointed and derided
went onward to the Lacedemonian quarter, where
all stood up, and so continued, until he was fixed tº
his satisfaction. Alas! said he, the Athenians know
what they ought to do, but the Lacedemonians do it.
+ We are supposed to brand felons; yet th
brand is, in reality, cold. We brand black cattl
on the horns, which gives no uneasiness to the beast
we do not brand horses, because it would spoil thei
coats: but our fellow-subjects, in the West Indie
burn deep characters on their defenceless and innd
cent fellow-creatures!
167
Such tales as hurt them in their master's fa-
WOUT.
The mind, when pure, corrects our earthl
frame.
These are the mysteries of justice; these
Will lead you safely to the verge of life.
E. N. D.

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