Translations [of poems, in various languages] by lord Lyttelton and W.E ...

From the morn I fell, and fell; and
Lighted down in craggy Lemnos :
But it chanced the men of Sinte
Thus he spake. On him the goddess,
And with hand outstretched, in smiling,
All the gods he deftly serving
As from left to right he travelled
Then among the blest Immortals
When they saw divine Hephaistos

So, until the sun's declining,
Neither lacked the social dining,
In the hand of great Apollo,
While he plays, to pour in answer

But the blazing sun descended; Each to his own mansion wended, That the maimed and famed Hephaistos Zeus Olympian, lord of lightning,

Slumber soft had bound him. Herè

picked me up from where I lay. white-armed Herè, softly smiled; took the goblet from her child. from the bowl sweet nectar drew, step by step in order due. burst the laughter uncontrolled, limp along the halls of gold. held they on carousing still: nor the lyre's enchanted skill nor the Muses, that rejoice, liquid notes with sweetest voice. each to home and rest inclined; mansion fair, for each designed, builded with his skilful mind. sought the couch, where many a day golden-throned beside him lay.

1861.

HORACE.

Horace to Lydia.

OD. III. 9.

Donec gratus eram tibi,

Nec quisquam potior brachia candida
Cervici juvenis dabat;
Persarum vigui rege beatior.

LYDIA.

Donec non aliâ magis

Arsisti, neque erat Lydia post Chloen;

Multi Lydia nominis,
Romanâ vigui clarior Ilià.

HORACE. Me nunc Thressa regit Chloe,

Dulces docta modos, et citharæ sciens;

Pro quâ non metuam mori,

Si parcent animæ fata superstiti.

HOR.

While no more welcome arms could twine
Around thy snowy neck, than mine;
Thy smile, thy heart, while I possest,

Not Persia's monarch lived as blest.

LYDIA. While thou didst feel no rival flame,
Nor Lydia next to Chloe came;
O then thy Lydia's echoing name
Excelled e'en Ilia's Roman fame.

HOR.

Me now Threïcian Chloe sways,
Skilled in soft lyre and softer lays;
My forfeit life I'll freely give,
So she, my better life, may live.

LYDIA.

Me torret face mutuâ
Thurini Calais filius Ornyti;

Pro quo bis patiar mori

Si parcent puero fata superstiti.

HORACE. Quid si prisca redit Venus,
Diductosque jugo cogit aheneo;

LYDIA.

Si flava excutitur Chloe,
Rejectæque patet janua Lydia?

Quanquam sidere pulchrior

Ille est; tu levior cortice, et improbo

Iracundior Adriâ;

Tecum vivere amem, tecum obeam libens.

LYDIA. The son of Ornytus inspires

My burning breast with mutual fires;
I'll face two several deaths with joy,
So Fate but spare my Thurian boy.

HOR.

What, if our ancient love awoke,
And bound us with its golden yoke;

If auburn Chloe I resign,

And Lydia once again be mine?

LYDIA. Though brighter than a star is he,

Thou, rougher than the Adrian sea,

And fickle as light bark; yet I

With thee would live, with thee would die.

1858.

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