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Why to mute fish should thou thyself discover, Alas! what comfort is 't that I am growt
And not to me thy no less silent lover ?

Secure of being again o'erthrown?
As some froni men their buried gold commit L Since such an enemy needs not fear
To ghosts, that have no use of it;

Lest any else should quarter there,
Half their rich treasures so

Who has not only sack'd, but quite burnt down,
Maids bury: and, for aught we know,

the town. (Poor ignorants !) they're mermaids all below. The amorous waves would fain about her stay,

THE FORCE OF LOVE. But still new amorous waves drive them away,

PRESERVED FROM AN OLD MANUSCRIPT. And with swift current to those joys they haste,

{Throw an apple up an hill,
That do as swiftly waste :

Down the apple tumbles still ;
I laugh'd the wanton play to view;

Roll it down, it never stops • But’tis, alas! at land so too,

Till within the vale it drops : And still old lovers yield the place to new.

So are all things prone to Love, Kiss her, and as you part, you amorous waves, All below, and all above, (My happier rivals, and my fellow-slaves)

Down the mountain flows the stream,
Point 10 your flowery banks, and to her shew

Up ascends the lambent flame;
The good your bounties do;

Smoke and vapour mount the skies;
Then tell her what your pride doth cost,

All preserve their unities;
And how your use and beauty's lost,

Nought below, and nought abore,
When rigorous Winter binds you up with frost.

Seems averse, but prone to Love. Tell her, her beauties and her youth, like thee,

Stop the meteor in its flight, Haste without stop to a devouring sea;

Or the orient rays of light; Where they will mix'd and undistinguish'd lie

Bid Dan Phæbus not to shine,
With all the meanest things that die;

Bid the planets not incline;
As in the ocean thou

'Tis as vain, below, above,
No privilege dost know

To impede the course of Love. Above th’impurest streams that thither flow.

Salamanders live in fire, Tell her, kind Flood! when this has made her sad,

Eagles to the skies aspire, Tell her there's yel one remedy to be had : [find

Diamonds in their quarries lie,
Show her how thou, though long since past, dost

Rivers do the sea supply:
Thyself yet still behind:

Thus appears, below, above,
Marriage (say to her) will bring

A propensity to Love.
About the self-same thing.
But she, fond maid, shuts and scals up the spring.

Metals grow within the mine,
Luscious grapes upon the vine;

Still the needle marks the pole;
LOVE GIVEN OVER.

Parts are equal to the whole: :
It is enough ; enough of time and pain

'Tis a truth as clear, that Love Hast thou consum'd in vain ;

Quickens all, below, above. Leave, wretched Cowley ! leave

Man is born to live and die, Thyself with shadows to deceive;'

Snakes to creep, and birds to fly ; Think that already lost which thou must never Fishes in the waters swim. gain.

Doves are mild, and lions grim : Three of thy lustiest and thy freshest years,

Nature thus, below, above, (Toss'd in storms of hopes and fears)

Pushes all things on to Love.
Like helpless ships that be

Does the cedar love the mountain ?
Set on fire i'th' midst o’the sea,

Or the thirsty deer the fountain ? Have all been burnt in love, and all been drown'd Does the shepherd love his crook? in tears.

Or the willow court the brook ? Resolve then on it, and by force or art

Thus by nature all things move, Free thy unlucky heart;

Like a running stream, to Love. Since Fate does disapprove

Is the valiant hero bold ?
Th' ambition of thy love,

Does the miser doat on gold?
And not one star in learen offers to take thy part. Seek the birds in spring to pair ?
If e'er I clear my heart of this desire,

Breathes the rose-bud scented air
If e'er it home to its breast retire,

Should you this deny, you'll prove It ne'er shall wander more about,

Nature is averse to Love. Though thousand beauties call it out: As the wencher loves a lass, A lover burnt like me for ever dreads the fire. As the toper loves his glass, The pox, the plague, and erery small disease

As tbe friar loves his cowl, May come as oft as ill-fate please;

Or the miller loves the toll, But Death and Love are never found

So do all, below, above, To give a second wound:

Fly precipitate to Love. We're by those serpents bit; but we're devour'd When young maidens courtship shun, by these.

When the Moon out-shines the Sun,

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Je a man should undertake to translate Pindar, almost without any thing else, makes an excelword for word, it would be thought, that one mad- lent poet; for though the grammarians and critics man had translated another; as may appcar, have laboured to reduce his verses into regular when he that understands not the original, reads | feet and measures (as they have also those of the verbal traduction of him into Latin prose, the Greek and Latin comedies) yet in effect they than which nothing seems more raving. And are little better than prose to our ears. And I sure, rhyme, without the addition of wit, and would gladly know what applause our best pieces the spirit of poetry, (quod nequeo monstrare & of English poesy could expect from a Frenchsentio tantum) would but make it ten times | man or Italian, if converted faithfully, and word more distracted than it is 'in prose. We must for word, into French or Italian prose. And consider in Pindar the great difference of time when we have considered all this, we must needs betwixt his age and ours, which changes, as in confess, that, after all these losses sustained by pictures, at least the colours of poetry; the no. Pindar, all we can add to him by our wit or inless difference betwixt the religions and customs vention (not deserting still his subject) is not of our countries; and a thousand particularities like to make him a richer man than he was in his of places, persons, and manners, which do but own country. This is in some measure to be confusedly appear to our eyes at so great a dis- applied to all translations; and the not observing tance. And lastly (which were enough alone of it, is the cause that all which ever I yet saw for my purpose) we must consider, that our are so much inferior to their originals. The ears are strangers to the music of his numbers, like happens too in pictures, from the same root which, sometimes (especially in songs and odes) of exact imitation; which, being a vile and un. worthy kind of servitude, is incapable of pro-T own Muse; for that is a liberty which this ducing any thing good or noble. I have seen kind of poetry can hardly live without. originals, both in painting and poesy, much more beautiful than their natural objects; but I never saw a copy better than the original : which in

Queen of all harmonious things, deed cannot be otherwise; for men resolving in no case to shoot beyond the mark, it is a thousand

Dancing words, and speaking strings!

What god, what hero, wilt thou sing? to one if they shoot not short of it. It does not at all trouble me, that the grammariars, per

What happy man to equal glories bring?

Regin, begin thy noble choice, haps, will not suffer this libertine way of render

(vjice.

And let the hills around reflect the image of thy ing foreign authors to be called translation ; for

Pisa does to Jove belong; I am not so much enamoured of the name trans

Jove and Pisa claim thy song. lator, as not to wish rather to be something bet

The fair first-fruits of war, th’ Olympic games, ter, though it want yet a name. I speak not

Alcides offer'd-up to Jove; so much all this, in defence of my manner of translating, or imitating, (or what other title

Alcides too thy strings may move: [prove !

But, oh! what man to join with these can worthy they please) the two ensuing Odes of Pindar;

Join Theron boldly to their sacred names; for that would not deserve half these words; as

Theron the next honour claiins: by this occasion to rectify the opinion of divers

Theron to no man gives place, men upon this matter. The Psalms of David

Is first in Pisa's and in Virtue's race! (which I believe to have been in their original,

Theron there, and he alone, to the Hebrews of his time, though not to our

Ev'n his own swift forefathers has outgone, Hebrews of Buxtorfius's making, the inost exalted pieces of poesy) are a great example of They through rough ways, o'er many stops they what I have said; all the translaturs of which, past, (even Mr. Sandys himself; for in despite of po- Till on the fatal bank at last pular crroar, I will be bold not to except him! | Thev Agrigentum built, the beauteous eye for this very reason, that they have not sought Of fair-fac'd Sicily ; to supply the lost excellencies of another lan- / Which does itself i'th' river by guage with new ones in their own, are so far from With pride and joy espy. doing honour, or at least justice, tu that divine Then chearful nutes their painted years did sins, poet, that methinks they revile him worse than | And Wealth was one, and Honour th' other, Sbimei. And buchanan himself (though much wing; the best of them ail, and indeed a great person) | Their genuine virtues did more sweet and clear, comes in my opinion no less short of David, than In Fortune's graceful dress, appear. his country does of Judea. L'pon this ground I To which, great son of Rhea! say have, in these two Odes of Pindar, taken, left The firm word, which forbids things to decay! out, and added, what I please; nor inake it so If in Olympus' top, where thou much my aim to let the reader know precisely Sitt'st to behuld thy sacred show; what he spoke, as what was his way and manner If in Alpheus silver flight; of speaking; which has not been yet (that I If in my verse, thou dost delight, know of) introduced into English, though it be My verse, o Fhea's son ! wbich is the noblest and highest kind of writing in verse; Lofty as that, aud sinooth as this. and which might, perhaps, be put into the list of Pancirolus, among the lost inventions of anti

For the past sufferings of this noble nace quity. This essay is but to try how it will look (Since things once past, and fled out of thine in an English habit: for which experiment Il

hand,
have chosen one of his Olympic, and another of Hearken no more to thy command)
bis Nemean Odes; which are as followeth.

Let present joys fill up the r place,
And with Oblivion's silent stroke deface
Of foregone ills the very trace.

Io no illustrious line

Do these happy changes shine
THE SECOND OLYMPIC ODE OF More brightly, Theron! than in thine.

So, in the crystal palaces
PINDAR.

Of the blue-ey'd Nereides,

Ino her endless youth does please, Written in praise of Theron, prince of Agrigen And thanks her fall into the seas.

tum, (a famous city in Sicily, built by his an Beauteous Semele does no less cestors) who, in the seventy-seventh Olympic, Her cruel midwife, Thunder, bless; . won the chariot-prize. He is commended | Whilst, sporting with the gods on high, from the nobility of his race, (whose story is She enjoys secure their company; often toucht on) from his great riches, (an Plays with lightnings as they fly, ordinary cornmon-place in Pindar) from his Nor trembles at the bright embraces of the Deity hospitality, munificence, and other virtues. l'he Ode (according to the constant customBut death did them from future dangers free; of the poet) consists more in digressions, than What god, alas! will caution be in the main subject : and the reader must not for living man's security, be chuqued to hear him speak so often of his Or will ensure our vessel in this faithless sea!

Never did the Sun as vet

There silver rivers through enamelld meadows So healthful a fair-day beget,

side, That travelling mortals might rely on it.

And golden trees enrich their side; But Fortune's farour and her spite

Th'illustrious leaves no dropping antumn fear, Roll with alternate waves, like day and night: And jewels for their fruit they bear, Vicissitudes which thy great race pursue,

Which by the blest are gathered E'er since the fatal son his father slew,

For bracelets to the arın, and garlands to the And did old oracles fulfil

head. Of gods that cannot lie, for they foretell but | Here all the heroes, and their poets, live; their own will.

Wise Rhadamanthus did the sentence give,

Who for his justice was thought ti. Erynnis saw't, and made in her own seed

With sovereign Saturn on the bench t sit. The innocent parricide to bleed;

Peleus here, and Cadmus, reign; She slew bis wrathful sons with mutual blows:

Here great Achilles, wrathful now no more, But better things did then succeed,

Since bis blest mother (who before And brave Theisander, in amends for what was

Had try'd it on his body in vain) past, arose.

Dipt now his soul in Stygian lake, Brave Thersander was by none,

which did from thence a divine hardness take, In war, or warlike sports, out-done.

That does from passion and from vice invulneraThou, Theron, his great virtues dost revive;

ble make. He in my verse and thee again does live. Loud Olympis, happy thee,

To Theron, Muse! bring back thy wandering Isthmus and Nemæa, does twice happy see;

song, For the well-natur'd honour there,

Whom those bright troops expect impatiently; Which with thy brother thou didst share,

And may they do so long! Was to thee double grown

How, n ble archer! do thy wanton arrows fly By not being all thine own;

At all tbe gaine that does but cross thine eye: And those kind pious glories do deface

Shoot, and spare not, for I see The old fraternal quarrel of thy race.

Thy sounding quiver can ne'er emptied be:

Let Art use method and good-husbandry, Greatness of mind, and fortune too,

Art lives on Nature's alms, is weak and poor; Th’ Olympic trophies shew:

Nature herself has unexhausted store, Both their several parts must do

Wallows in wealth, and runs a turning maze, In the noble chase of faine;

(lame. That no vulgar eye can trace. This without that is blind, that without this is

Art, instead of mounting high, Nor is fair Virtue's picture seen aright

About her humble food does hurering fly; But in Fortune's golden light.

Like the ignoble crow, rapine and noise does Riches alone are of uncertain date,

love; And on shurt man long cannot wait;

Whilst Nature, like the sacred bird of Jove, The virtuous make of them the best,

Now bears loud thunder; and anon with silent And put them out to Fame for interest;

joy With a frail good they wisely buy

The beauteous Phrygian boy The solid purchase of e'ernity :

Defeats the strong, o'ertakes the flying prey, . They, wbilst life's air they breathe, consider well, | And sometimes basks in th' open flames of day i and know

And sometimes too he shrowds Th’account they must hereafter give below;

His soaring wings among the clouds. Whereas th'unjust and covetous above,

Leave, wanton Muse! thy roring fight; In deep unlovely vaults,

To thy loud string the well-fletcht arrow put; By the just decres of Jove,

Let Agrigentum be the butt, Unrelenting torments prove,

And Theron be the white. The heavy necessary effects of voluntary faults.

And, lest the vame of verse should give Whilst in the lands of unexhausted light,

Malicious mea pretext to misbelieve, O'er which the gul-like Sun's unwearied sight By the Castalian waters swear,

Ne'er winks in clonds, or sleeps in night, (A sacred oatlı no poets dare An endless spring of age the good enjoy,

To take in vain, Where neither Want does pinch, nor Plenty No more than gods do that of Styx prophane) cloy:

Swear, in no city e'er before, There neither earth nor sea they plough, A better man, or greater-soul'd, was born: Nor aushi to labour owe

Swear, that Theron sure has sworn For fuod, that whilst it nourishes does decay,

No man near bim should be poor! And in the lamp of life consumes away.

Swear, that none e'er had such a graceful art Thrice had these men hrungli mortal bodies past, Fortune's free gifts as freely to impart, Did thrice the trial undergo,

With an unenvious hand, and an unbounded Till all their little dross was purg'd at last,

heart, The furnace had no more to do..

But in this thankless world the givers Then in rich Saturn's peaceful state

Are envied ev'n by the receivers: Were they for sacred treasures plac'd,

Tis now the cheap and frugal fa-bion, The Muse-iliscover'd world of Islands Fortunate. Rather to hide, than pay, the obligation: oft-footed winds with tuneful voices there

Nay, 'tis much worse than su; Dance through the perfum'd air.

It now an artifice does grow,

Wrongs and outrages to do,

Appear'd not half so bright, Lest men should think we owe.

But cast a weaker light, Such monsters, Théron! has thy virtue found : Through earth, and air, and seas, and up to th' But all the malice they profess,

heavenly vault. Thy secure honour cannot wound;

" To thee, O Proserpine! this isle I gire," For thy vast bounties are so numberless,

Said Jore, and, as he said, That them or to conceal, or else to tell,

Smil'd, and bent his gracious head. Is equally impossible !

" And thou, O isle!” said he, “ for ever thrive, And keep the value of our gift alive!

As Heaven with stars, so let
THE FIRST NEMEAN ODE OF

The country thick with tuwns be set,
PINDAR.

And, numberless as stars,

Let all the towns be then Chromius, the son of Agesidamus, a young Replenish'd thick with men,

gentleman of Sicily, is celebrated for having. Wise in peace, and bold in wars! won the prize of the chariot-race in the Ne Of thousand glorious towns the nation, mæan games, (a solemnity instituted first to Of thousand glorious men each town a concelebrate the funeral of Opheltes, as is at

stellation ! · large described by Statius; and afterwards Nor let their warlike laurel scorn

continued every third year, with an extraor- With the Olympic olive to be worn, . dinary conflux of all Greece, and with incredi- Whose gentler honours do sọ well the brows of ble honour to the conquerors in all the exerci

Peace adorn!” ses there practised) upon which occasion the

Go to great Syracuse, my Muse, and wait : poet begins with the commendation of his

At Chromius' hospitable gate ; country, which I take to have been Ortygia,

'Twill open wide to let thee in, (an island belonging to Sicily, and a part of

When thy lyre's voice shall but begin ; Syracuse, being joined to it by a bridge)

Dy a brage) | Joy, plenty, and free welcome, dwells within, though the title of the Ode call him Ætnæan | The Tyrian beds thou shalt find ready drest, Chromius, perhaps because he was made go- | 'The ivory table crowded with a feast: vernor of that town by Hieron. From thence The table which is free for every guest. he falls into the praise of Chromius's person, 1 No doubt will thee admit, which he draws from his great endowments of

And feast more upon thee, than thou on it. mind and body, and most especially from his

Chromius and thou art met aright, hospitality, and the worthy use of his riches.

For, as by Nature thou dost write, He likens his beginning to that of Hercules ; So he by Nature loves, and does by Nature fight. and, according to bis usual manner of being transported with any good hint that meets him

Nature herself, whilst in the womb he was, in his way, passing into a digression of Her Sow'd strength and beauty through the forming $ cules, and his slaying the two serpents in his

mass; cradle, concludes the Ode with that history.

They mov'd the vital lump in every part, ,

And carv'd the members out with woudrous art. BEAUTEOUS Ortygia! the first breathing-place She fill'd his mind with courage, and with wit,

Of great Alpheus' close and amorous race! And a vast bounty, apt and fit Fair Delos' sister, the childbed

For the great dower wbich Fortune made to it, Of bright Latona, where she bred

T'is madness, sure, treasures to hoard,
Th’ original new Moon!

And make them useless, as in inines, remain, Who saw'st her tender forehead ere the horns To lose th’occasion Fortune does afford were grown!

Fame and public love to gain : Who, like a gentle scion newly started out,

Ev'n for self-concerning ends, From Syracusa's side dost sprout !

"Tis wiser much to hoard-up friends. Thee first my song does greet,

Though happy men the present goods possess, With numbers smooth and fleet

Th’ unhappy have their share in future hopes ne As thine own horses' airy feet,

less. When they young Chromius' chariot drew,

How early bas young Chromius begun And o'er the Nemæan race triumphant flew,

The race of virtue, and how swiftly run, Jove will approve my song and me;

And borne the noble prize away, Jove is concern'd in Nomea, and in thee.

Whilst other youths yet at the barriers stay! With Jove my song; this happy man, " None but Alcides e'er set earlier forth than he:

Young Chromius, too, with Jove began; The god, his father's blood, nought could
From hence came his success,

restrain, Nor ought he therefore like it less,

'Twas ripe at first, and did disdain Since the best fame is that of happiness;

The slow advance of dull humanity. For whom should we esteem above

The big-limb'd babe in bis huge cradle lay, The men whom gods do love?

Tuo weighty to be rock'd by nurses' hands, 'Tis them alone the Muse too does approve,

Wrapt in purple swaddliug-bands; Lo! how it makes this victory shine

When, lo! by jealous Juno's fierce commands, O'er all the fruitful isle of Proserpine!

Two dreadful serpents come,
The torches which the mother brought Rolling and hissing loud, into the room;
When the ravish'd maid she sought,

To the bold babe they trace their bidden way ;

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