Oh father Phoebus! whether Lycia's coast
And fnowy mountain, thy bright presence boast;
Whether to fweet Caftalia thou repair,
And bathe in filver dews thy yellow hair;
Or pleas'd to find fair Delos float no more,
Delight in Cynthus, and the fhady shore;
Or chufe thy feat in Ilion's proud abodes,
The fhining structures rais'd by lab'ring Gods;
By thee the bow and mortal fhafts are born;
Eternal charms thy blooming youth adorn :
Skill'd in the laws of fecret fate above,
And the dark counfels of almighty Jove,
'Tis thine the feeds of future war to know,
The change of Sceptres, and impending woe;
When direful meteors spread through glowing air
Long trails of light, and shake their blazing hair.
Thy rage the Phrygian felt, who durst aspire
T'excel the mufic of thy heav'nly lyre;
Thy fhafts aveng'd lewd Tityus' guilty flame,
Th' immortal victim of thy mother's fame;
Thy hand flew Python, and the dame who lost
Her num'rous offspring for a fatal boast.
In Phlegyas' doom thy juft revenge appears,
Condemn'd to Furies and eternal fears;

829

835

840

845

850

He

NOTES.

VER. 8.9.] Some of the most finished lines he has ever written, down to verfe 854. WARTON.

VER. 841. 'Tis thine] Far fuperior to the original are these four lines; and how mean is the Tityus of Statius, compared with the tremendous picture in Virgil! WARTON.

Æterno premit accubitu, dapibufque profanis
Inftimulat: fed mifta famem faftidia vincunt.
Adfis o, memor hofpitii, Junoniaque arva
Dexter ames; feu te rofeum Titana vocari
Gentis Achæmeniæ ritu, feu præftat Ofirin
Frugiferum, feu Perfei fub rupibus antri
Indignata fequi torquentem cornua Mitram.

855

He views his food, but dreads, with lifted eye,
The mouldring rock that trembles from on high.
Propitious hear our pray'r, O Pow'r divine! 855
And on thy hofpitable Argos fhine,
Whether the stile of Titan please thee more,
Whofe purple rays th' Achæmenes adore;
Or great Ofiris, who first taught the swain
In Pharian fields to fow the golden grain;
Or Mitra, to whose beams the Persian bows,
And pays, in hollow rocks, his awful vows;
Mitra, whose head the blaze of light adorns,
Who grafps the struggling heifer's lunar horns.

"Illum ingens haurit fpecus, & tranfire parantes
Mergit equos; non arma manu non frena remifit
Sicut erat, rectos defert in Tartara currus,

IN order to give young readers a just notion of chasteness and fimplicity of style, I have seen it of ufe to let them compare the mild majesty of Virgil and the violent exuberance of Statius, by reading ten lines of each immediately after one another. The motto for the style of the age of Augustus may be the "Simplex Munditiis" of Horace; for the age of Domitian and the succeeding ages, the "Cultûque laborat Multiplici" of Lucan. After this cenfure of Statius's manner, it is but justice to add, that in The Thebais there are many ftrokes of a strong imagination; and indeed the picture of Amphiaraus, swallowed up fuddenly by a chaẩm that opened in the ground, is truly fublime:

Refpexitque cadens cœlum, campumque coire
Ingemuit!"

860

B. vi. v. 817.-WARTON. In this tranflation there are fome excellent pallages, particularly those pointed out by Dr. Warton-" Oh father Phœbus," and the exquifite lines descriptive of Evening, "Twas now the time," &c.; but fome of the most striking images are omitted, fome added,

and

and fome misunderstood. Let us however confefs, that the verfi-. fication is truly wonderful, confidering the age of the author. It would be endless to point out more particularly occafional er: rors and inaccuracies, in a compofition which can be confidered no otherwise than as an extraordinary fpecimen of verfification, before the writer's judgment and tafte were matured.

THE FABLE OF DRYOPE.

FROM THE NINTH BOOK OF

OVID'S METAMORPHOSES.