HORACE. BOOK I, ODE XXXVIII
Persicos odi, puer, apparatus.

[Written (?). Published by Johnson, 1815.]
Boy, I hate their empty shows,
Persian garlands I detest,
Bring not me the late-blown rose
Ling'ring after all the rest :

Plainer myrtle pleases me

Thus out-stretch'd beneath my vine,
Myrtle more becoming thee,

Waiting with thy master's wine.

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ANOTHER TRANSLATION OF THE SAME ODE [Written (?). Published by Johnson, 1815.]

English Sapphics have been attempted, but with little success, because in our language we have no certain rules by which to determine the quantity. The following version was made merely in the way of experiment how far it might be possible to imitate a Latin Sapphic in English without any attention to that circumstance [J.].

Boy! I detest all Persian fopperies,

Fillet-bound garlands are to me disgusting,
Task not thyself with any search, I charge thee,
Where latest roses linger;

Bring me alone (for thou wilt find that readily)
Plain myrtle. Myrtle neither will disparage
Thee occupied to serve me, or me drinking
Beneath my vine's cool shelter.

HORACE. BOOK II, ODE XVI

Otium Divos rogat in patenti.

[Written (?). Published by Johnson, 1815.]
EASE is the weary merchant's pray'r,
Who plows by night th' Ægean flood,
When neither moon nor stars appear,
Or faintly glimmer through the cloud.
For ease the Mede with quiver grac'd,
For ease the Thracian hero sighs,
Delightful ease all pant to taste,
A blessing which no treasure buys.
For neither gold can lull to rest,
Nor all a Consul's guard beat off
The tumults of a troubled breast,

The cares that haunt a gilded roof.

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8

Happy the man, whose table shows
A few clean ounces of old plate;
No fear intrudes on his repose,

No sordid wishes to be great.

Poor short-liv'd things, what plans we lay!
Ah, why forsake our native home!
To distant climates speed away;

For self sticks close where'er we roam!

Care follows hard; and soon o'ertakes
The well-rigg'd ship, the warlike steed,
Her destin'd quarry ne'er forsakes,
Not the wind flies with half her speed.
From anxious fears of future ill

Guard well the cheerful, happy Now;
Gild ev'n your sorrows with a smile,
No blessing is unmix'd below.

Thy neighing steeds and lowing herds,
Thy num'rous flocks around thee graze,
And the best purple Tyre affords
Thy robe magnificent.displays.

On me indulgent Heav'n bestow'd
A rural mansion, neat and small;
This Lyre; and as for yonder crowd,
The happiness to hate them all.

For the translation of Horace, Book II, Ode X. see p. 314 [Ed.].

VIRGIL'S ÆNEID

BOOK VIII, LINE 18

[Written (?). Published by Johnson, 1815.]

THUS Italy was mov'd--nor did the chief
Æneas in his mind less tumult feel.

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24

32

On ev'ry side his anxious thought he turns,
Restless, unfixt, not knowing what to choose.
And as a cistern that in brim of brass
Confines the crystal flood, if chance the sun
Smite on it, or the moon's resplendent orb,
The quiv'ring light now flashes on the walls
Now leaps uncertain to the vaulted roof:
Such were the wav'ring motions of his mind.
'Twas night-and weary nature sunk to rest.
The birds, the bleating flocks, were heard no more.
At length, on the cold ground, beneath the damp
And dewy vault, fast by the river's brink,
The Father of his country sought repose.

10

When lo among the spreading poplar boughs,
Forth from his pleasant stream, propitious rose
The god of Tiber: clear transparent gauze
Infolds his loins, his brows with reeds are crown'd:
And these his gracious words to sooth his care: 20

'Heav'n-born, who bring'st our kindred home
again,

Rescued, and giv'st eternity to Troy,

Long have Laurentum and the Latian plains
Expected thee; behold thy fixt abode,

Fear not the threats of war, the storm is pass'd,
The gods appeas'd. For proof that what thou hear'st
Is no vain forgery or delusive dream,

40

Beneath the grove that borders my green bank,
A milk-white swine, with thirty milk-white young
Shall greet thy wond'ring eyes. Mark well the place;
For 'tis thy place of rest, there end thy toils: 31
There, twice ten years elaps'd, fair Alba's walls
Shall rise, fair Alba, by Ascanius' hand.
Thus shall it be-now listen, while I teach
The means t' accomplish these events at hand.
Th' Arcadians here, a race from Pallas sprung,
Following Evander's standard and his fate,
High on these mountains, a well-chosen spot,
Have built a city, for their Grandsire's sake
Named Pallanteum. These, perpetual war
Wage with the Latians: join'd in faithful league
And arms confed'rate, add them to your camp.
Myself between my winding banks, will speed
Your well-oar'd barks to stem th' opposing tide.
Rise, goddess-born, arise; and with the first
Declining stars, seek Juno in thy pray'r,
And vanquish all her wrath with suppliant vows.
When conquest crowns thee, then remember Me.
I am the Tiber, whose cærulean stream
Heav'n favours; I with copious flood divide
These grassy banks, and cleave the fruitful meads.
My mansion, This--and lofty cities crown

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My fountain-head."-He spoke, and sought the deep, And plung'd his form beneath the closing flood. Æneas at the morning dawn awoke,

And rising, with uplifted eye beheld

The orient sun, then dipp'd his palms, and scoop'd The brimming stream, and thus address'd the skies. "Ye nymphs, Laurentian nymphs, who feed the

Source

Of many a stream, and thou, with thy blest flood, O Tiber, hear, accept me, and afford,

61

At length afford, a shelter from my woes.
Where'er in secret cavern under ground
Thy waters sleep, where'er they spring to light,
Since thou hast pity for a wretch like me,
My off'rings and my vows shall wait thee still :
Great horned Father of Hesperian floods,
Be gracious now, and ratify thy word."
He said, and chose two gallies from his fleet,
Fits them with oars, and clothes the crew in arms.
When lo! astonishing and pleasing sight,
The milk-white dam, with her unspotted brood,
Lay stretch'd upon the bank, beneath the grove.
To thee, the pious Prince, Juno, to thee
Devotes them all, all on thine altar bleed.
That live-long night old Tiber smooth'd his flood,
And so restrain'd it, that it seem'd to stand
Motionless as a pool, or silent lake,

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80

That not a billow might resist their oars.
With cheerful sound of exhortation soon
Their voyage they begin; the pitchy keel
Slides through the gentle deep, the quiet stream
Admires th' unwonted burthen that it bears,
Well polish'd arms, and vessels painted gay.
Beneath the shade of various trees, between
Th' umbrageous branches of the spreading groves,
They cut their liquid way, nor day, nor night
They slack their course, unwinding as they go
The long meanders of the peaceful tide.

The glowing sun was in meridian height,
When from afar they saw the humble walls,
And the few scatter'd cottages, which now
The Roman pow'r has equall'd with the clouds
But such was then Evander's scant domain.
They steer to shore, and hasten to the town.

It chanc'd th' Arcadian monarch on that day,
Before the walls, beneath a shady grove,
Was celebrating high, in solemn feast,
Alcides and his tutelary gods.

;

90

Pallas, his son, was there, and there the chief 100
Of all his youth; with these, a worthy tribe,
His poor but venerable senate, burnt

Sweet incense, and their altars smok'd with blood.
Soon as they saw the towering masts approach,
Sliding between the trees, while the crew rest
Upon their silent oars, amaz'd they rose,
Not without fear, and all forsook the feast.
But Pallas undismay'd his jav'lin seiz'd,
Rush'd to the bank, and from a rising ground

Forbade them to disturb the sacred rites.

110

Ye stranger youth! what prompts you to explore This untried way? and whither do ye steer?

Whence, and who are ye? Bring ye peace or war?" Æneas from his lofty deck holds forth

The peaceful olive branch, and thus replies.

Trojans and enemies to the Latian state,

Whom they with unprovok'd hostilities

Have driv'n away, thou see'st. We seek Evander-
Say this and say beside, the Trojan chiefs

Are come, and seek his friendship and his aid." 120
Pallas with wonder heard that awful name,
And "Whosoe'er thou art," he cried, "come forth ;
Bear thine own tidings to my father's ear,
And be a welcome guest beneath our roof."
He said, and press'd the stranger to his breast :
Then led him from the river to the grove,
Where, courteous, thus Æneas greets the king :
"Best of the Grecian race, to whom I bow

(So wills my fortune) suppliant, and stretch forth In sign of amity this peaceful branch,

I fear'd thee not, altho' I knew thee well

A Grecian leader, born in Arcady,

And kinsman of th' Atridæ. Me my virtue,
That means no wrong to thee-the Oracles,
Our kindred families allied of old,

And thy renown diffus'd thro' ev'ry land,

Have all conspir'd to bind in friendship to thee,
And send me not unwilling to thy shores.
Dardanus, author of the Trojan state,

(So say the Greeks) was fair Electra's son ;
Electra boasted Atlas for her sire,

Whose shoulders high sustain th' æthereal orbs.
Your sire is Mercury, who Maia bore,
Sweet Maia, on Cyllene's hoary top.

Her, if we credit aught tradition old,

Atlas of yore, the selfsame Atlas, claim'd

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140

150

His daughter. Thus united close in blood,
Thy race and ours one common sire confess.
With these credentials fraught, I would not send
Ambassadors with artful phrase to sound
And win thee by degrees--but came myself—
Me therefore, me thou see'st; my life the stake:
'Tis I, Æneas; who implore thine aid.
Should Daunia, that now aims the blow at thee,
Prevail to conquer us, nought then, they think,
Will hinder, but Hesperia must be theirs,
All theirs, from th' upper to the nether sea.