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THE WORKS OF MOSCHUS.
O Solitude, on me bestow
Graingeh's Ode On Somtobe.
IDYLLfUM I. .«starch of her son, to the listening crowd, "ether day lovely Venus thus cry'd him aloud: Whoever may chance a stray Cupid to meet, My vagabond boy, as he strolls in the street. Arid will bring me the news, his reward shall 'be this,
He may freely demand of fair Venus a kiss;
To the regions below, and their terrible king, ha body quite naked to view is reveal'd, Bat be covers his mind, and his thoughts are 'conceal'd.
Like a bird light of feather, the branches among, He (kips here and there, to the old, to the young, from the men to the maids on a sudden he strays, Aod hid in their hearts on their vitals he preys. The how which he carries is little and light, On the nerve is an arrow wing'd ready for 'flight,
'* little short arrow, yet swiftly it flies
'Though regions) of ether, and pierces the flues.
'A quiver of gold on his shoulders is bound, , 'Stor'd with darts, that alike friends and enemies • wound:
'Ev'n I, his own mother, in vain strive to shun 'His arrows—so fell and so cruel my son, 'His torch is but small, yet so ardent its ray, 'It scorches the fun, and extinguishes day. 'O you, who perchance may the fugitive find, 'Secure first his hands, and with manacles bind; 40 'Show the rogue no companion, though oft he 'appears
* To weep—his are all hypocritical tears. 'With caution conduct him, nor let him beguile 'Your vigilant care with a treacherous smile. 'Perhaps with a laugh kisses sweet he will proffer; 'His kisses are poison, ah! shun the vile offer. 'Perhaps he'll fay, sobbing," No mischief I know; "Here take all my arrows, my darts, and my "bow!" [aim; 'Ah! beware, touch them not—deceitful his aim; 'His darts and his arrows are all tipt with Same.'
The Queen of Love, on amorous wiles intent,
With loader zeal: 'The beauteous nymph, (he
• said, * Her daughter was, and in her bosom bred.' But (he, who as a stranger was array'd, Forc'd to her arms the unresisting maid; Call'd her her right, by all the powers above, Giv'n her by Fate, and Ægis-bearing Jrve. 10
The fair Europa, struck with sudden dread, AH pale and trembling started from her bed j Silent she sat, and thought the vision tme, Still seem'd their forms to strive before her view: At length she utter'd thus the voice of fear; « *' Ye gods, what spectres to my fight appear? *■ What dreams are these, in fancy's livery drest, "That haunt my sleep, and break my golden rest? "And who that form that seem'd so wond'rous
"kind? "The dear idea still delights my mind. 30
"She. like a mother, press'd me in her arms 1 "But, O ye gods! that fend such strange
"larms, "Preserve these visionary scenes from harms
She said, and lightly from her couch she sprung,
The fragrant fields along the sea-beat shore, C
Europa's basket, radiant to behold,
.The lovely damsels gather'd flow'rets bright,
Some the gilt crocus or pale lily chose,
Then turn'd his suppliant eyes, and view's1
So speke the fair, ^nd up slie rose to ride,
He Wt eflay'd her purple robe to fare,
"Aa' Bkither wilt thou bear a wretched maid? "Who, aad whence art thou, wond'rous creature,
"fey* "How can'st thou fearless tread the wat'ry way? "On the broad ocean safely sails the,ship, 'Sat bulls avoid, and dread the stormy deep. 10 'Say, can a boll on sea-born viands seed .' "Or, if descended from celt dial breed, "i by acts are inconsistent with a god: [flood; "Satis rent the meads, and dolphins swim the "Bat earth and ocean arc alike to thee, [sea.
Jny hoofs are oars that row thee through the '.'crhapa, like airy birds, tbou soon wilt ily, 'Aad soar amidst the regions of the sley. 'Ah' wretched maid, to leave my native home, 'SzA simply dare with bulls in mcad« to roam'
* Aad cow on seas I ride—ah! wretched maid! 161 Eat, O' I truss, great Neptune, in thy aid;
'xaa let my eye* my great conductor hail, 'Par not without a deity I fail."
TW spoke the nymph, and thus the bull reply'd: "Caarafe, fair maid, nor fear the foaming tide: "Tbeags. now a bull I seem to mortal eye«,
* Tbce faca (hah see me ruler of the skies.
* wlac hape I please, at will I take and keep,
*• AacJ now a bull 1 cross the boundless deep; 170 'Far tiy bright charms inspire my breast with
"love: 'Sat soon soall Crete's fair isle, the nurse of Jove,
* Receive Europa on its friendly strand,
1 To join with me in Hymen's blissful band: 'iron tbee shall kings arise in long array, "To rule the world with delegated sway." 1 ha* spoke the god; and what he spoke prov'd
true: f t Coco Crete's lofty shore appear'd in view: j»»r Crait asltinVd another form and air, .■zj& looa'd her zone; the Hours the coucb prepare, ~\t try;- ph Europa thus, through powerful love, a^»a~- the bride of cloud-compelling Jove: rraoa her sprung mighty kings in long array, *ka rul'd the world with delegated sway.
ON THE 01ATH Of BION
': i woods, with grief your waving summits bow,
Vrf hid the rivers mourn for Bion dead:
VaJ dat with sorrow at sweet Bion', death:
Ye roses change from red to sickly pale,
And, all ye bright anemonies, bewail: 10
Now, hyacinth, thy doleful letters show
Inscrib'd in larger characters of woe
For Bion dead, the sweetest shepherd swain.
Begin, Sicilian Muse, begin the mournful strain! Ye nightingales, that perch among the sprays, Tune to meoldious elegy your lays, And bid the streams of Arethuse deplore Bion's fad fate; lov'd Bion is no more: Nor verse nor nv sic could hi- life prolong, He died, and with him died the D. ric song. 30
Begin. Sicilian Muse, the mournful strain! Ye swans of Strymon, in loud notes complain. Pensive, yet sweet, and droop, the sickly wing, As when your own sad elegy ye sing. All the fair damsels of Oeagria tell, And all the nymphs that in Bistonia dwell, That Doric Orpheus charms no more the plains.
Begin, Sicilian Muse, begin the mournful strains! No more he sooths his oxen at the yoke, No more he chants beneath the lonely oak. 30 Compell'd, alas! a doleful dirge to sing To the grim god, the deaf Tartarean king. And now each straggling heifer strays alone, And to the silent mountains makes her moan;. The bulls loud bellowing o'er the forests rove, Forsake their pasture, and forget their love.
Begin, Sicilian Muse, the mournful lay! Thy fate, 0 Bion, wept the god of day; Pan griev'd ; the dancing Satyrs and the Fauni March'd slow and lad, and sigh'd along the lawns: Then wail'd the Nymphs, that o'er the stream! preside, 41
Fast flow'd their tears, and swell'd the crystal
Mute Echo now laments the rocks among,
When from thy lips the honey's stnl'n away?
Begin, Sicilian Mule, begin the mournful lay!
As now in melancholy mood they shed
f-egin, Sicilian Muse, the mournful lay!
Ye turtles too, the gentle bard deplore,
And with dee • murmurs fill the sounding shore.
Begin, Sicilian Muse, the mournful lay! Who now, lov'd shepherd, on thy pipe shall play? Still, still, methinks, the melting notes I hear, But ah' more faint they die ueon my ear. Echo, still listening, roves the meads along, Or near the locks still meditates thy song. To Pan I'll give thy tuneful pipe, though he Will fear, perchance, to be surpass d by thee. So
Begin. Sicilian Muse, the mournful strain! Thee Galatea weeps, sweet shepherd-swain; For oft thy graceful form her bosom warm'd, Thy song delighted, and thy music charm'd: She fhunn'd the Cyclops, and his numbers rude, But thee with ardent love the nymph purlu'd: She left the sea, her element, and feeds, Forlirn, thy cattle on the flowery meads.
Begin, Sicilian Muse, the mournful lay! Alas' the mases will no longer stay, 90 No longer on these lonely coasts abide; "With thee they warbled, and with thee they died: With Bion perish'd all the grace of song, And all the kisses of the fair and young. The little Loves, lamenting at his doom, Strike their fair breasts, and weep around his tomb. See Venus too her beauteous bosom beat? She lov'd her shepherd more than kisses sweet, More than those last dear kisses which in death She gave Adonis, and imbib'd his breath. "lOO Melts! of streams in melody the chief, Now heaves thy bosom with another grief; Thy Homer died, great master of the song, Thy Homer died, the Muses sweetest tongue: Then did thy waves in plaintive murmur weep, And roll'd thy swelling sorrows to the deep: Another son demands the meed of woe, Again thy waters weep in long-drawn n urmurs flow.
Dear to the fo untains was each tuneful sen,
This drank of Arethuse, that Helicon: no
He song Atrides' and Achilles' ire,
And the fan- dame that set the world on fire:
This sorm'd his numbers on a softer plan,
And chaunted shepherds loves, and peaceful Pan;
His flock he tended on the flower meads.
And milk'd his kine, or join'd with wax the reeds;
Oft in his bosom he would Cupid take,
And Venus lov'd him for her Cupid's fake.
Begin, Sicilian Muse, the mournful strains! Thee all the cities of the hills and plains, Iia Illustrious bard, in silent grief deplore; Afcra for Hesiod ne'er lamented more; Not thus Bceotia mourn'd her Thcban swan, Jjgt thus the tears for bold Alcceus ran; Not Ceosfor Simonides, nor thus Griev'd Paros for her bard Archilocus: The shepherds of the Lesbian isle have long Neglected Sappho's for thy sweeter song: And all that breathe the past'ral reed rehearse Thy fate, U Bion, in harmonious verse. 130 Sicelidas, the Samian shepherd sweet, And Lycidas, the blithest bard of Crote, Whole sprightly looks erst spoke their hearts elate, Now sorrowing mourn thy fad untimely fate;
Mourns to Philetas' elegiac muse,
Begin, Sicilian Muse, begin the mournful lay'.
Soon as the hand of death has clos'd our eyes, Ijt
Hear heavenly music with a murderous thought!
"Wbt these complaints, and whence that drt •' ful sigh?
«* Why on thy cheek do thus the roses die i •' Is it to see thy glorious fun ft: stain, >' From worthless hands, pre-eminence of par •' A lion tortur'd by a fawn—Great Jove! >* Why such injurious treatment must I piove ,