Classic Poem

My sportive Muse first sung Sicilian strains,
Nor blush'd to dwell in woods and lowly plains.
To sing of kings and wars when I aspire,
Apollo checks my vainly-rising fire.
‘To swains the flock and sylvan pipe belong,
‘Then choose some humbler theme, nor dare heroic song.’
The voice divine, O V ARUS , I obey,
And to my reed shall chant a rural lay;
Since others long thy praises to rehearse,
And sing thy battles in immortal verse.
Yet if these songs, which P HOEBUS bids me write,
Hereafter to the swains shall yield delight,
Of thee the trees and humble shrubs shall sing,
And all the vocal grove with V ARUS ring.
The song inscrib'd to V ARUS ' sacred name
T O P HOEBUS ' favour has the justest claim.
Come then, my Muse, a sylvan song repeat.
'Twas in his shady arbour's cool retreat
Two youthful swains the God S ILENUS found,
In drunkenness and sleep his senses bound.
His turgid veins the late debauch betray;
His garland on the ground neglected lay,
Fallen from his head; and by the well-worn ear
His cup of ample size depended near.
Sudden the swains the sleeping God surprise,
And with his garland bind him as he lies,
(No better chain at hand) incens'd so long
To be defrauded of their promis'd song.
To aid their project, and remove their fears,
Æ GLE a beauteous fountain-nymph appears;
Who, while he hardly opes his heavy eyes,
His stupid brow with bloody berries dies.
Then smiling at the fraud S ILENUS said,
‘And dare you thus a sleeping God invade?
‘To see me was enough; but haste, unloose
‘My bonds; the song no longer I refuse;
‘Unloose me, youths; my song shall pay your ‘pains;
‘For this fair nymph another boon remains.’
He sung; responsive to the heavenly sound
The stubborn oaks and forests dance around,
Tripping the Satyrs and the Fauns advance,
Wild beasts forget their rage, and join the general dance.
Not so Parnassus' listening rocks rejoice,
When P HOEBUS raises his celestial voice;
Nor Thracia's echoing mountains so admire,
When O RPHEUS strikes the loud-lamenting lyre.

For first he sung of Nature's wondrous birth;
How seeds of water, air, and flame, and earth,
Down the vast void with casual impulse hurl'd,
Clung into shapes, and form'd this fabric of the world.
Then hardens by degrees the tender soil,
And from the mighty mound the seas recoil.
O'er the wide world new various forms arise;
The infant-sun along the brighten'd skies
Begins his course, while earth with glad amaze
The blazing wonder from below surveys.
The clouds sublime their genial moisture shed,
And the green grove lifts high its leafy head.
The savage beasts o'er desart mountains roam,
Yet few their numbers, and unknown their home.
He next the blest S ATURNIAN ages sung;
How a new race of men from P YRRHA sprung;
P ROMETHEUS' daring theft, and dreadful doom,
Whose growing heart devouring birds consume.
Then names the spring renown'd for H YLAS ' fate
By the sad mariners bewail'd too late;
They call on H YLAS with repeated cries,
And H YLAS , H YLAS , all the lonesome shore replies.
Next he bewails P ASIPHAE (hapless dame!)
Who for a bullock felt a brutal flame.
What fury fires thy bosom, frantic queen!
How happy thou, if herds had never been!
The Maids, whom J UNO , to avenge her wrong,
Like heifers doom'd to lowe the vales along,
Ne'er felt the rage of thy detested fire,
Ne'er were polluted with thy foul desire;
Though oft for horns they felt their polish'd brow,
And their soft necks oft fear'd the galling plough.
Ah wretched queen! thou roam'st the mountain-waste,
While, his white limbs on lillies laid to rest,
The half-digested herb again he chews,
Or some fair female of the herd pursues.
‘Beset, ye Cretan nymphs, beset the grove,
‘And trace the wandering footsteps of my love.
‘Yet let my longing eyes my love behold,
‘Before some favourite beauty of the fold
‘Entice him with Gortynian herds to stray,
‘Where smile the vales in richer pasture gay.’
He sung how golden fruit's resistless grace
Decoy'd the wary Virgin from the race.
Then wraps in bark the mourning Sisters round,
And rears the lofty alders from the ground.
He sung, while G ALLUS by Permessus stray'd,
A Sister of the Nine the hero led
To the Aonian hill; the choir in haste
Left their bright thrones, and hail'd the welcome guest.
L INUS arose, for sacred song renown'd,
Whose brow a wreathe of flowers and parsley bound;
And, ‘Take, he said, this pipe, which heretofore
‘The far-fam'd Shepherd of Ascræa bore;
‘Then heard the mountain-oaks its magic sound,
‘Leap'd from their hills, and thronging danced ‘around.
‘On this thou shalt renew the tuneful lay,
‘And grateful songs to thy Apollo pay,
‘Whose fam'd Grynæan temple from thy strain
‘Shall more exalted dignity obtain.’
Why should I sing unhappy S CYLLA 's fate?
Sad monument of jealous C IRCE 's hate!
Round her white breast what furious monsters roll,
And to the dashing waves incessant howl:
How from the ships that bore U LYSSES ' crew
Her dogs the trembling sailors drag'd, and slew.
Of P HILOMELA'S feast why should I sing,
And what dire chance befel the Thracian king?
Changed to a lapwing by th' avenging God
He made the barren waste his lone abode,
And oft on soaring pinions hover'd o'er
The lofty palace then his own no more.
The tuneful God renews each pleasing theme,
Which P HOEBUS sung by bless'd Eurotas' stream;
When bless'd Eurotas gently flow'd along,
And bade his laurels learn the lofty song.
S ILENUS sung; the vocal vales reply,
And heavenly music charms the listening sky.
But now their folds the number'd flocks invite,
The star of evening sheds its trembling light,
And the unwilling heavens are wrapt in night,