Ne'er whisper'd thee a word: but she shall see These legs-this throbbing heart-and grieve with me.
O Cyclops, where is all thy vanish'd sense?
Go, weave thy baskets-go-and hie thee hence,
Where each green tree its tender twigs supplies
Fresh fodder for the lambs-awake-be wise-
Go-milk the first that offers on the plain:
Why thus pursue the flying sheep in vain?
Come-let me give this fooling to the wind-
Another girl, still fairer, may be kind.
Full many a pretty maid, at dusky eve,
My smiles and jokes with frolic laugh receive;
And hail me, as I join their sportive band:
Though scorn'd at sea, I'm some one on the land.'
Thus could fond Polypheme his passion calm Through the sweet influence of the Muse's balm, That gave his lovesick heart more lenient ease Than medicine dearly bought by lavish fees.
SAY,art thou come, now three long days are pass'd,
To crown the wishes of my soul, at last?
Sure thou hast felt, unless thy heart be cold,
That faithful lovers in one day grow old.
Far as the apple's pulp outvies the sloe,
Or vernal meads the wintry wastes of snow;
Far as the milky mothers of the plain [tain;
Bear wool more weighty than their lambs sus-
Far as the virgin, in the prime of life,
Excels the matron three times dubb'd a wife.
Or the light fawn the calf; or nightingales
Surpass the rival minstrels of the vales;
So far thy converse cheers! to thee I run,
As travellers to the beech that screens the sun.
O that our fame of friendship long may live,
And to recording bards new lustre give!
O may we, through a deathless being, prove
The golden joys of harmonizing love!
Then, after many an age hath roll'd away,
May some one meet my shade, and sweetly say,
'Your friendship blooms, the theme of every
tongue,
[song.'
And prompts the shepherd's tune-the poet's
Such are my prayers! may such the Fates dispose;
While, no dishonest pimple on my nose,
I with a firm-toned energy maintain—
The joy I've felt with thee outweighs the pain.' Ye Megarensians, who, in equal time,
The music of your oars so softly chime;
Bless'd may ye flourish: since the' Athenian's
Gain'd, at his closing hour your just applause-
Above all strangers honour'd, since ye pay
Due rites to Diocles, each festal day.
Then sprightly boys, when spring begins to bloom,
Sport, in soft contest, at their hero's tomb;
And who the sweetest kiss hath power to breathe,
Bears to his mother many a rosy wreath.
Bless'd is the man with more than vulgar bliss,
Whoe'er he be, that judges of the kiss!
Fair Ganymede-who makes the thunderer bow;
Whose lenient smile can smooth his angry brow;
His fury with a magic power command,
And stop his lightning in his lifted hand—
Had such a lip (or Fame hath often lied—
And Fame errs seldom on the better side)
As, a true touchstone, tried the proffer'd joy,
And the pure ore distinguish'd from alloy.
ADDRESSED TO NYCIAS.
How vain the' opinion (argue all we can)
That love, dear Nicias, is confined to man!
How vain, that beauty blooms for us alone:
Mortals, who idly deem one day our own!
With iron bosom though the beast he slew,
The charms of melting love Alcides knew!
He cherish'd Hylas, with his golden hair;
Felt all the fondness of parental care;
And taught him, as a sire instructs his son,
By manly virtues how renown is won!
Himself alike the model and the guide,
He watch'd assiduous at his Hylas' side;
Whether their course Aurora's white steeds run
From Jove's high dome; or blazed the noonday sun;
Or the hen shook her wings, by twilight's gleam,
Gathering her chicken to the smoky beam-
That, tutor'd on instruction's steady plan,
The boy, in wisdom's way, might rise to man.
But when bold Jason, for the golden fleece, Braved the rough billows with the sons of Greece,
Who, duly chosen from the cities, came
(Princes of high hereditary name),
"Twas then, at rich Iolcos' crowded strand,
Alcmena's toiling offspring met the band:
And Hylas, with a filial friendship fraught,
Close at his side, the firm-deck'd Argo sought.
Midst Cyané's dread rocks the vessel pass'd,
And with an eagle's swiftness cleft the waste!
But, till the vernal breeze in safety curl'd
The heaving wave, her sails in Phasis furl'd.
Soon as the Pleiades shone, and milder May
Bade the light lambs o'er springing verdure play;
The flower of heroes, with a southern gale,
Spread on the Hellespont their rapid sail;
And through the smooth Propontus bent their
Where rich Cyanean fields in furrows rose.
There landing on the beach, in pairs they spread,
Quick, for their evening viands, many a bed;
Though some for ampler cates their couch provide
More spacious, where a shadowy mead supplied
Sharp ox tongue's flowering plant, and rushes
broad,
That on the tufted ground the chieftains strow'd.
Swift Hylas o'er the meadow runs, to bring
In brazen vase fresh water from the spring,
For Hercules and Telamon, who stored
(Sworn comrades at the feast) one common board.
Straight in the bosom of a lowly dell,
He found, beset with plants, a shaded well:
On its cool marge the fringing herbage grew-
The mingling dyes of celandine so blue,
With verdurous parsley,maidenhair's bright green,
And vervain: while amid the watery scene,
Naïds, the dread of every rustic wight,
Led the gay dance, and revel'd through the night.
Young Malis and Eunica form'd the ring,
And sweet Nychea, like the blooming spring.
His vase now dipping in the sable lymph,
Fair Hylas struck each fond enamour'd nymph!
They seized!- -down-down he dropp'd, as
from heaven's height
Shoots glittering to the main a starry light.
- Unfurl your sails-(aloud the boatswain cries)
Speed, my brave boys! propitious gales arise!'
With soft address the nymphs sooth Hylas' fears,
And lull him on their laps, and kiss his tears.
Meantime Alcides, clouded o'er by grief,
Grasp'd (the dread image of a Scythian chief)
His long bent bow: and, wildness in his look,
The club familiar to his right hand shook.
(And thrice the clamour rent the trembling air)
On Hylas call'd in accents of despair!
From the deep waters Hylas thrice replied—
Though near, each feeble murmur, as at distance,
E'en as the lion, if far off a fawn
[died!
Cry with sad plaint along the dusky lawn,
Starts from the covert of his mountain wood,
And rushes on his ready feast of blood;
Thus Hercules, in dire disorder, takes [brakes;
His way through thickets and through devious
And strides (how wretched is the lover's lot!)
O'er hills and dreary glens-the fleece forgot.
Now fitted for the deep the vessel lay
(Amphytrion's son expected with the day);
For all at night unfolded to the breeze
Her pendants stream'd across the shadowy seas.
He, in dark frenzy, rush'd through ways untrod;
For love had pierced his heart-a cruel god!
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