Classic Poem

Cease not, ye Maids of Memory, to sing
Apollo's sacred praise, the Archer-king
Whom, when his hands in Jove's bright mansion draw
The shining bow — with reverential awe
The gods behold, his power tremendous own,
Each stands aloof, receding from his throne.
Latona, sole of all the' ethereal train;
Dares by the side of thundering Jove remain.
The quiver from his back her arms unbrace,
His bow against the daedal column place,
Then leads him to his throne; while parent Jove
Presents the nectar'd bowl, the pledge of love;
And as the other powers resume their seats,
Latona's heart her son exulting greets.
Hail, bless'd Latona! who to Jove of yore
Apollo and the' immortal huntress bore;
Her in Ortygia, him on Delos' shore.
Stretch'd 'neath a palm by Cynthus' rugged brow,
Where the clear waves of smooth Inopus flow:
How shall my voice the hymn to Phaebus raise,
How praise, whom every strain contends to praise?
Is it that charm'd with numbers pour'd by thee,
Phaebus! resounds each isle that studs the sea?
Each continent with pastures widely spread?
Each mountain lifting high its airy head?
Each fountain clear, whose current gently glides
Through smiling vales to ocean's roaring tides?
Is it that first thee, fair Latona bore
By Cynthus' Mount on Delos' rugged shore,
Where swells the sable wave and howling wind,
The first, the dearest blessing to mankind?
All human race with grateful zeal obey
Thy just decrees, and own thy regal sway.
All who fair Crete's illustrious regions grace,
For justice fam'd, all Athens' polish'd race.
Ægina's isle, Eubaea's naval reign,
Æga, Eirisia, Peparethus' plain:
Athos and Samos, Peleus' lofty mound,
And Ida's heights with darkening forests crown'd;
Scyros, Phocaea, Imbrus' cultur'd shore,
And, proud Autocane, thy mountains hoar.
Lemnos, whose hostile coasts no strangers greet,
Lesbos divine, Æolian Macar's seat.
Chios, the fairest isle that Ocean laves;
Corycus' mountains, Mimas' rocky caves.
Samos, mid streams and vales irriguous plac'd,
And Mycale with verdant uplands grac'd:
Coos and Æsage and Claros bright,
Carpathus' stormy seats, and Cnidus' height,
Naxos and fertile Paros' fair domain,
And proud Rhenaea's rude and stony plain.
Latona, teeming with the Archer-god,
Sought mid these scenes her future son's abode.
Each seat, though plenty there its blessings shower,
Shrinks fearful to receive the mighty power,
But Delos' favour'd isle she first explores,
Addressing thus the Genius of the shores: —
" Delos! if thou become my son's domain,
If here Apollo fix his splendid fane,
Sacred alone to him thy seats shall be,
From other lords and mortal tyrants free.
What though nor flocks nor herds thy pastures feed,
No harvest ripen, and no vintage bleed;
Yet if thy shores his sacred temples grace,
From each assembling tribe of human race
Shall hecatombs with pious zeal be given,
The smoke of offer'd victims climb to heaven,
While every god protective influence yields,
And foreign plenty crowns thy barren fields."
She said: — with joy the island power replied;
" Daughter of Saturn! of thy sire the pride,
Pleas'd shall my yales the heavenly birth receive: —
Me, me, alas! man's bitter censures grieve.
But thus protected by thy son divine,
Round me shall glory's beams celestial shine.
Yet, O Latona, let me now reveal
The dread of future danger that I feel.
Phaebus, 'tis said, shall be of mind severe,
His awful power will gods and men revere:
Much is my heart perplex'd, lest in that day
When first his eye-balls drink the solar ray,
His foot should spurn my rude uncultur'd plain,
And whelm my sterile mountains in the main;
Bid o'er my head, in fatal triumph ride,
The swelling surges of old Ocean's tide:
And to some happier seat the god removes
His consecrated fane and hallow'd groves;
While in my solitary caverns sleep
The scaly monsters of the briny deep.
But if to me, great goddess, thou wilt swear
By those dread powers which ev'n the gods revere;
That here the sacred oracle shall rise,
Which shows the future mandates of the skies;
Here all mankind shall seek the voice divine,
And distant ages crowd the holy shrine."
Thus spoke the nymph. — Latona, lov'd of Jove,
Swore the dread oath that binds the powers above: —
" Let earth and heaven's high spreading regions know,
And those dark waves that roll through shades below,
Infernal Styx — whose awful name adjur'd,
No god dare violate the solemn word,
Here Phaebus still shall keep his groves and fane,
Fix in these hallow'd seats from age to age his reign!"
The oath thus pledg'd: — Delos' parental earth
Joy'd in the' immortal archer's promis'd birth.
Nine tedious days on sad Latona rose,
Nine tedious nights witness'd her lingering throes,
Though round of heavenly nymphs a friendly train,
With unavailing sorrow wept her pain.
Dione, Rhea, Themis, near her stood,
And Amphitrite, sprung from Ocean's flood;
And many a goddess else to aid her came,
Scap'd from the eye of Jove's imperious dame;
She by the' eternal Thunderer's awful throne
Sat, fill'd with rage, secluded and alone.
Lucina, sole of power to soothe her cares,
Nor knew her torturing pangs, nor heard her prayers,
High on Olympus' cloud-capt brow remain'd
The saving nymph; so Juno's will ordain'd;
Griev'd that Latona, with the beauteous hair,
Should to her lord the godlike offspring bear.
The friendly goddesses from Delos' shade
Call'd many-colour'd Iris to their aid,
And promis'd, could she bring Lucina's power
To sad Latona in the palmy bower,
An ample scarf her bosom should unfold,
Studded with brilliant gems, and rough with gold.
From Juno far they bade her wing her way,
Lest jealous rage the saving power should stay.
Fleet as the clouds, by winds tempestuous driven,
Sprang forth the swift-wing'd messenger of heaven;
A moment's space the' ethereal herald bore,
To high Olympus' brow from Delos' shore;
There, calling forth Lucina's favouring power,
Cautious, apart from Jove's imperial bower,
The mandate of the heavenly race display'd;
Her words at once the friendly nymph persuade.
Swift as the timid dove, the' immortal pair
With buoyant pinion cleave the realms of air.
Soon as Latona trod the Delian shore,
The yeaning goddess' tedious pangs were o'er.
Beneath the spreading palm-tree's spacious shade
The mighty Thunderer's godlike son was laid.
Around, the hills, the streams, the valleys smil'd,
And every goddess hail'd the heavenly child:
Their hands divine thy limbs, O Phaebus! lave
In the pellucid fountain's silver wave,
With a white robe thy infant form confine,
And round embroider'd swathes of gold entwine.
No nurture from his mother's fragrant breast,
Thirsting, the golden-sceptred monarch press'd;
But Themis' care his infant lips imbued
With nectar'd draughts, and gave ambrosial food.
And fair Latona smil'd with conscious joy,
Proud of the happy birth, and heavenly boy.
Swell'd by the feast of gods, each mighty vein,
Nor robes, nor swathes, the' immortal child restrain,
Bursting with giant-force each circling band,
He thus address'd the powers that round him stand: —
" Mine be the favour'd lyre and crooked bow,
To man from me Jove's oracles shall flow."
With golden tresses crown'd, the Archer-god
Thus spoke; and from the' extended region strode,
The' immortal nymphs around, in deep surprise,
Gazed on the prodigy with wondering eyes.
But Delos chief, bright beams of future joy,
And hopes of more than mortal bliss employ,
Since, from great Jove and fair Latona sprung,
Phaebus was born her humble seats among.
By the bright god a self-selected ground,
From every isle and continent around;
O'er her bleak wastes young forests seem to grow,
And flowers to crown each mountain's hoary brow.
King of the argent bow, thy feet now climb
Of Cynthus' rugged mount the height sublime;
Now many an isle around and peopled shore
Wandering thy desultory steps explore.
For on the mountains near, that proudly rise
And shoot their azure summits to the skies,
By every stream the lowly plain that laves,
Rolling to Ocean's bed its winding waves,
Thy hallow'd groves their sacred umbrage spread,
The frequent temple rears to thee the head.
Yet, Phaebus! still thy lov'd parental isle
Wins from an envious world thy favouring smile;
Where with their lovely dames and infant train,
Seeking protection of thy holy fane,
Ionia's warlike heroes crowding round,
Sweep with their lengthen'd stoles the sacred ground;
To thee devoted, festal games belong,
The lyre, the dance, the cestus, and the song;
While life and youth eternal seem to grace
With never-fading charms the votive race.
Gazing around, in splendid order stand
Of striplings and of maids a beauteous band,
Rich treasures pour profuse a golden store,
And swelling sails adorn the rocky shore.
But far above the rest, in rapt surprise,
This lovely miracle arrests the eyes:
Of Delian nymphs divine, a virgin train,
Each, priestess of Apollo's glorious fane,
First in harmonious strains of rapture sing
The' immortal honours of the Archer-king;
Then to Latona pour the votive strain,
And Dian, virgin huntress of the plain:
Thence to the listening train around unfold
Chiefs and illustrious dames who lived of old.
The varied speech and voice of all mankind
Their lays impress so strongly on the mind,
So just the imitative art appears,
Each thinks the speaker present that he hears.
Hail, Phaebus and Latona! Dian, hail!
O let your votary's fervent prayers prevail!
And when in future times some pilgrim hoar;
Wandering, shall reach this sea-encircled shore,
And ask " what mortal now, with heavenly fire,
Strikes with his skilful hand the warbling lyre,
What dulcet voice is this to which belong
Powers to entrance you with its godlike song?
O may you answer with applausive smile —
" 'Tis the blind bard of Chios' rugged isle,
The' unrival'd merit of whose glorious strain
Succeeding times shall emulate in vain."
Thus I, through every seat of man's abode,
Through every track by human footsteps trod,
Bold in the truth, my native worth proclaim;
My verse alone the herald of my fame.
Ne'er shall my votive lay forget to sing
Fair-hair'd Latona and the Archer-king.
Monarch of Lycia's wide extended reign,
Monarch of fair Meonia's fertile plain,
The god, Miletus' naval towers who sways,
Whom Delos' wave-surrounded coast obeys; —
Behold the power celestial pass along,
His lyre preluding to the heavenly song;
That golden lyre whose strings symphonious move,
Charming the breast to rapture and to love.
Onward he goes to rocky Pythos' shrine,
His robes ambrosial shedding sweets divine:
Hence, scorning earth's inferior seats, he soars
To high Olympus' heaven-constructed doors,
The' imperial dome of Jove, where round him stand
Of crowding Deities the' eternal band.
In mute attention wrap'd, the listening throng
Struck by the warbling wire and sacred song,
At once the Muses in alternate lay,
And strains of heavenly harmony, display
The gifts that ever powers celestial grace,
The ills that wait on man's unhappy race,
Ills that no care can heal, no heart assuage,
Inevitable death and wasting age. —
The fair-hair'd Graces, and the laughing Hours,
Sweet Hebe's and Harmonia's kindred powers,
With Cytherea, Queen of Joy and Love,
The favourite daughter of imperial Jove,
Encircled hand in hand, with active feet
To strains divine the golden pavement beat:
While arrow-bearing Dian, fair and young,
From the same womb with great Apollo sprung,
Joins in the chorus of the festive train,
With no unlovely form or humble strain:
Hermes his wand foregoes, and Mars his lance,
And cheerly mingle in the sprightly dance.
Above the rest behold Apollo stand,
And strike the sounding wire with skilful hand.
Awful he treads, in radiant glory dight,
His vesture beaming with celestial light;
While fair Latona and immortal Jove
Exulting view the offspring of their love.
How shall my verse thy glorious deeds display,
Thou the great theme of every poet's lay?
Say, shall I first thy happy loves declare?
Sing, how thy ardour won the' Azantine fair?
With those of Elatia, fam'd to breed
On her extended plains the generous steed.
Phaebus, to Triopus' high race allied,
With brave Leucippus and Leucippus' bride:
This skill'd to train and drive the agile horse
With rapid footsteps, this to urge the course!
Or shall I rather, in my votive lay,
Trace to the Oracle of Truth thy way?
First from Olympus' height thy steps descend
To where Pieria's fertile fields extend.
Then Lecton's sandy deserts next you tread,
Pass where Magnesia and Perrhaebus spread,
Iolchus reach, and climb Cenaea's head;
Eubaea, glorying in her naval reign;
And gain at length Lelantos' spacious plain:
Yet there thou didst not fix thy seat divine,
Nor raise the sacred grove, nor build the shrine.
Hence, crossing Euripus — far-shooting god! —
Thy sacred steps the verdant mountain trod.
Then passing Mycalessus' fair domain,
And, clad in herbage green, Teumessas' plain;
You reach at length the Theban realms, around
With waving shade and gloomy forests crown'd.
For then could Thebes no human inmates boast,
No human steps her fertile regions cross'd.
Still wandering on, immortal power! you rove
To fair Onchestus, Neptune's hallow'd grove:
Where the young steeds, scarce train'd the yoke to bear
Forespent with toil, forget the driver's care.
The charioteer, though skill'd their fire to sway,
Leaps from the car, and speeds on foot his way;
The panting coursers, loosen'd from the rein,
The empty chariot drag across the plain;
But cautious from the woodland-shade decline,
Lest clustering trees should break the car divine.
Apollo's power their pious care rewards,
And with protective arm the chariot guards.
Thence crossing bright Cephissus' silver tide,
Whose lucid waves from fair Lilaea glide,
Passing Ocalea's high embattled towers,
Passing the green Amartus' grassy bowers,
At length Delphusa's sacred seat you gain,
Pleas'd there to raise your groves and build your fane:
And speaking thus the dictates of your breast,
Your voice the Genius of the place address'd: —
" At length my mind is fix'd; Delphusa here
To man the sacred oracle I'll rear.
All, all who dwell where Pelops' region smiles,
All in Europa and her clustering isles,
Hither the frequent hecatomb shall bring,
Seeking of truth divine the hallow'd spring,
By me while from the sacred fane is given,
The will of future fate decreed by heaven."
Thus spoke the god: and straight his daedal hand
The wide foundations of the temple plan'd;
Delphusa sees, and, fill'd with rage and fear,
Pours these sad accents in Apollo's ear: —
" Phaebus! immortal king! O let my voice
From these unhappy seats avert thy choice.
Were here thy sacred oracle decreed,
If here the frequent hecatomb should bleed,
The crowding mules and steeds that custom brings
To graze my pastures, and to quaff my springs,
Would mar the honours of the solemn rite,
And man, misjudging man, might turn his sight
Averted, from thy gifts and splendid fane,
To view the car and courser scour the plain.
If I can aught persuade (yet, power divine!
How dare I counsel such a power as thine?)
On Crissa's plain, beneath Parnassus' brow,
The favour of thy happier choice bestow.
No rattling car, no coursers' neighing train,
Shall there thy rites with jarring sound profane.
There shall a glorious race their offerings bring,
And to thy praise the choral Paean sing;
While emulative nations round combine
To heap with wealth profuse thy golden shrine.
Delphusia's prayer prevails — her shores he leaves
Still undivided fame the nymph receives. —
On pass'd Apollo by Cephissus' tide,
Where in the fair extended vale reside
The Phlegyan race, whose stubborn hearts defy
The laws of heaven, nor bolts of angry Jove.
Hence, rising swiftly near the lofty brow
Of high Olympus, white with endless snow,
Crissa he reach'd, fann'd by the gentle gale,
Beneath the rock where spreads the hollow vale.
Here Phaebus stood, resolv'd to fix his seat,
And thus his words the favour'd region greet: —
" At length my wandering search is ended; here
The sacred Oracle resolv'd to rear.
All, all who dwell where Pelops' region smiles,
All in Europa and her clustering isles,
Hither the frequent hecatomb shall bring,
Seeking of truth divine the hallow'd spring,
By me while from the sacred fane is given
The will of future fate decreed by heaven."
Apollo said: and straight his daedal hand
The wide foundations of the Temple plann'd.
Erginus' sons, dear to the gods and Jove,
The well-compacted fabric rear'd above.
While nations crowd from earth's remotest zone
To shape the column, and to hew the stone;
Till proud the Temple rose in awful grace,
A lasting wonder to the human race.
Near the bright waves of that clear fountain flow,
Where Jove's great offspring, with his silver bow,
The monstrous dragon slew of size immense,
Whose breath could fate to man and beast dispense.
Typhaon dire, by Juno's angry mind
Nurtur'd and rear'd, a scourge to humankind:
When from the temples of her heavenly sire
Sprung Pallas forth, whom gods and men admire,
While standing mid the' assembled powers above,
Indignant spoke the' imperious Queen of Jove.
Each god, each goddess, hear! — oppress'd I stand,
Sham'd by the cloud-compelling Tyrant's hand;
Endow'd above the rest with form and grace,
Me he selected from the' ethereal race
To share his bed. — But ah! without my aid
Alone he gave to light the blue-eyed maid,
Minerva the divine, whose powers excel
All who in heaven's eternal mansions dwell:
While Vulcan, whom I bore, deform'd and lame,
Limps mid the gods, the object of their shame,
I seiz'd and threw the infant in the main,
Where silver-footed Thetis, and her train
Of wat'ry nymphs, receiv'd him from the waves,
And kindly nurtur'd in their coral caves. —
Cruel, unjust! what other means remain
To shame thy Consort mid the heavenly train?
Remote from me, thy secret haunts among,
The blue-eyed goddess from thy temples sprung:
But now a son produc'd by me shall boast
To shine superior mid the' immortal host.
I to our nuptial couch no shame will bring,
Nor shall from thy embrace the infant spring."
She said; and from the' ethereal synod broke,
Then smote the earth, and thus indignant spoken I: —
" O hear me, earth! and heaven's supreme domain!
And hear, ye powers in Tartarus who reign!
Hear, hear me all — and far from Jove, alone,
O let my womb a potent offspring own:
And in his frame superior strength inspire,
As far as Jove excell'd his hoary sire."
She said, and struck — beneath her mighty hand,
From its foundations shook the solid land.
Juno with joy the happy omen bless'd,
And deem'd fulfill'd the wishes of her breast.
A long revolving year she past alone,
Far from the Thunderer's genial bed and throne,
Brooding in silence o'er her deep designs,
Or drinking incense from her votaries' shrines. —
But when the days and nights fulfill'd appear,
And the swift hours complete the circling year,
A hideous monster to her vows was given,
Unlike to all that breathed in earth or heaven.
Of size immense, the vast Typhaon spread,
A dragon fell, of all mankind the dread.
Her awful hands on earth, malignant, place
The dire destroyer of the human race.
Onward he pass'd, dispensing fate around,
Till the avenger's mighty arm he found:
Immortal Phaebus, from his silver bow
Launch'd the keen shaft that laid the monster low;
Writhing in death he rolls, while hideous cries
And roars tremendous shake the vaulted skies,
Till pouring forth his life in crimson tide,
Exulting Phaebus speaks with conscious pride: —
" On earth's maternal bosom here remain,
Once the dire terror of her filial train,
Living no more the pious race to awe,
Who to my shrines the frequent victim draw.
Typhaeus' might, and dark Chimaera's power,
Were weak to' avert the inevitable hour;
Here sable earth and Hyperion's ray
Shall bid the putrifying corse decay."
Thus with triumphant voice the god exclaim'd!
The baleful serpent hence was Pytho nam'd:
And hence the bards, to Phaebus' praise who sing,
Hail him, in votive verse, the Pythian king.
Then found he, that the nymph whose cares preside
O'er fair Delphusa's silver-flowing tide,
Had with fallacious words deceiv'd his breast,
And wrathful thus the goddess he address'd: —
" No more thy arts my purpose shall elude,
No more these pleasant seats and crystal flood,
Sacred to thee alone, shall honour claim;
Lo, I partake the pleasure and the fame!"
Thus spoke the god; and from the mountain's side
Hurl'd a vast rock across the hidden tide,
While near the gliding stream a choral train
Tend, mid embowering shades, his sacred fane;
And while Delphusa's waves are veil'd in shame,
Hail, great Apollo, by Delphusius' name!
As, wrap'd in meditation deep, he stood; —
Lo, on the breast of Ocean's sable flood,
By many a warlike chief and hero mann'd,
Floats a light bark, by favouring breezes fann'd.
A godlike race from Crete's well-peopled plains
Where, fam'd for justice, Gnossian Minos reigns
Who 'neath Parnassus, mid the laurel shade,
The sacred rite to mighty Phaebus paid.
In traffic now he turns his daedal prore
To Pylos' sons, and Pylos' sandy shore.
Apollo rushing from the craggy steep,
In form a Dolphin, plung'd amid the deep;
Then to the buoyant bark he bent his way,
Dread on the deck his form stupendous lay.
All gazing stood aghast, with fearful look,
And 'neath the god the solid timbers shook:
At the dire sight the boldest bosoms fail,
None strain the cordage, none unfurl the sail;
No more their skilful hands the rudder guide,
But, urged by Notus, through the foaming tide
The vessel drives, — passing Maleia's coast,
Passing Laconia, and, of Sol the boast,
Fair Taenarus, beneath whose sheltering grove,
Sacred to Sol, the fleecy myriads rove;
There much they wish'd to anchor, and from shore
Careful the mighty miracle explore,
If there resolv'd to linger, or again
To plunge amid the monsters of the main.
No more the bark obeys the pilot's hand,
But flies along by Pelops' fertile land;
While from Apollo breath'd, the freshening gales
Urge on her course, and fill the swelling sails.
Forc'd by the fury of the stormy blast,
Arene's and Argyphia's shores they past;
Thryas, and Epys, and Alpheus trace,
And pass the Pylian sands and Pylian race;
Pass Crunos, Chalcis, Dymen's fair domain,
Pass Elis, the divine Epean reign,
Pass, capt with clouds, fam'd Ithaca's high glades,
Dulichium, Samos, and Zacynthus' shades;
But when, the winding shores of Pelops past,
Wide water'd Crissa's bay appear'd at last,
By Jove's decree the gale of Zephyr blew,
Swift through the yielding waves the vessel flew;
Hence to the east, whence beams Aurora's ray,
The rapid galley measures back her way,
Till guided by Apollo's favouring hands,
The prow is fix'd in viny Crissa's sands.
Now mighty Phaebus, like the day-star bright,
Sprung from the deck robed in ethereal light;
Sparks of celestial radiance from him rise,
Illume his hallow'd fane, and climb the skies:
Through Crissu's region spread the awful flames,
Filling with fear her sons and beauteous dames.
Then to the bark returning mid the flood,
In face and form a youth divine he stood;
Loose o'er his shoulders flows the' ambrosial hair,
And thus his mind his heavenly words declare:
" Say whence your race? On what adventure say
Thus far ye wander through the wat'ry way?
Relate, if business or the thirst of gain
Engage your journey o'er the pathless main:
Or, pirates, seek ye now through seas unknown
The lives of others, reckless of your own?
Why quit ye not the bark, and on the shore
The sail deposit and the useless oar?
Scap'd from the toils and dangers of the main,
When treads the wave-worn mariner the plain,
Gladly with food he cheers his fainting soul,
The strengthening viand shares, and drains the bowl."
His words with joy inspir'd each sinking breast,
And thus the Cretan chief the god address'd:
" O godlike stranger, hail! whose form and face
Bespeak thee sprung of more than mortal race,
To thee propitious still be heaven's high train;
But to our anxious minds, O kindly deign
To say on what strange region now we stand,
What tribes of humankind possess the land.
Far hence, alas! we steer'd our wat'ry way
From fertile Crete to Pylos' sandy bay;
Hither, alas! by unpropitious heaven
Through seas unknown to distant regions driven."
Then thus the god: — " Strangers, who dwelt of yore
On far fam'd Grossus' widely-wooded shore,
Ne'er shall ye view again your native bowers,
Your splendid palaces and lofty towers,
Your lovely consorts and your infant race,
But here my sacred Temple shall ye grace:
Behold me! — Great Apollo! son of Jove!
Impell'd by me through Ocean's waves ye rove,
Not with malignant mind; but in my fane
With me, by nations honour'd, to remain.
Here shall your eyes heaven's future will foresee,
Hence to the world reveal fate's dark decree;
While gifts divine your rites celestial grace,
The pride and glory of the human race:
Swift then the cordage loose, and furl the sail,
And on the oozy beach the vessel trail:
Land all your treasures and your naval gear,
And close by Ocean's brink the altar rear.
Then heap the surface with the wheaten store,
And, standing round, the eternal powers adore!
But as I first, mid Ocean's billows dark,
Leap'd a vast dolphin on your trembling bark,
Here first the vow pay to Delphinius' name,
For Delphi's shrine shall boast perennial fame.
Then by the ship indulge the genial hour,
And to the gods the free libation pour.
But, hunger's rage appeas'd, on me attend,
With me the Temple's site sublime ascend;
And, in the strains of gratitude and praise,
With joyful voice the Io-paean raise."
Apollo ceas'd. — With haste the band fulfil
The awful mandate of the heavenly will.
" The sails they furl'd, they lash'd the mast aside,
Then drop'd the anchor, and the pinnace tied."
Then issuing on the beach, the sinewy crew
Far from the shore the weighty vessel drew:
While massy piles, driven in the sandy ground,
A barrier firm the inland bark surround.
The altar then they raise beside the shore,
Heap the smooth surface with the wheaten store,
And, standing round, the' eternal powers, adore!
Then by the ship indulge the genial hour,
And to the gods the free libation pour.
Hunger appeas'd, on Phaebus they attend,
And the bright Temple's lofty site ascend;
Onward before, with step celestial, trod
The son of thundering Jove, the Archer-god;
While his skill'd fingers with immortal fire
Struck strains of rapture from the warbling lyre.
Following to Pythos' dome, the Cretan throng
The Io-paean raise in echoing song.
That Paean Crete of old was wont to raise,
While every Muse divine inspir'd the lays.
They climb the steep with labouring step and slow,
And reach Apollo's seat, Parnassus' brow.
The god is proud the region fair to own,
And points his hallow'd fane and splendid throne; —
Fear-struck they stood: till first their leader broke
The awful silence, and astonish'd spoke: —
" Far from our friends — far from our native home
Since led by thee, O mighty power! we roam,
O teach thy suppliant votaries, we implore,
How to subsist on this ungenial shore!
Nor flocks nor herds the sterile region feeds,
No harvest ripens, and no vintage bleeds."
Apollo, smiling, thus his mind express'd: —
" Vain man is still by causeless cares distress'd;
But let me thus console each anxious breast.
For know from every region, sent by all,
The frequent victim by your hands shall fall.
To you the winds shall waft from every shore
Of Nature's richest books a plenteous store. —
My temple guard. — The crowds assembled here
Courteous receive, and my commands revere;
That man, misjudging man, from ill refrain,
Nor act, nor word, my solemn rites profane:
Else shall ye bow beneath a foreign sway. —
Mark then my solemn mandates, and obey."
Farewell awhile, high mid the powers above,
Offspring of fair Latona and of Jove;
Soon shall my votive voice, in glowing lays,
The hymn again to glorious Phaebus raise.