Propitious, ever foaring from the right.

Thou to the leffer gods haft well affign'd

Their proper shares of pow'r: thy own, great Jove,
Boundless and univerfal. thofe who labour

The fweaty forge, who edge the crooked scythe,
Bend ftubborn steel, and harden gleening armor,
Acknowledge Vulcan's aid. The early hunter
Bleffes Diana's hand, who leads him safe

O'er hanging cliffs; who fpreads his net successful,
And guides the arrow through the panther's heart.
The foldier from fuccefsful camps returning,
With laurel wreath'd, and rich with hoftile fpoil,
Severs the bull to Mars. The skilful bard,
Striking the Thracian harp, invokes Apollo,
To make his hero and himself immortal.
Those, mighty Jove, mean time, thy glorious care,
Who model nations, publish laws, anounce
Or life or death, and found or change the empire.
Man owns the pow'r of kings; and kings of Jove.
And as their actions tend fubordinate

To what thy will designs, thou giv't the means
Proportion'd to the work; thou seest impartial,
How they those means imploy. each monarch rules
His different realm, accountable to thee,
Great ruler of the world: thefe only have
To speak and be obey'd; to those are giv❜n
Affiftant days to ripen the design;

To fome whole months; revolving years to fome:
Others, ill-fated are condemn'd to toil

Their tedious life, and mourn their purpose blasted
With fruitless a&t, and impotence of council.
Hail! greatest fon of Saturn, wise difpofer
Of ev'ry good thy praife what man yet born
Has fung? or who that may be born shall sing?

Again, and often hail! indulge our prayer,
Great father! grant us virtue, grant us wealth:
For without virtue, wealth to man avails not;
And virtue without wealth exerts less pow'r, -
And lefs diffuses good. Then grant us, gracious,
Virtue and wealth; for both are of thy gift.

The fecond HYMN of CALLIMACHUS

to APOLLO.

『1,

HAH! how the laurel, great Apollo's tree,

And all the cavern shakes! far off, far off, The man that is unhallow'de for the God, The God approaches. Hark! he knocks; the gates Feel the glad impulse: and the fever'd bars Submiffive clink against their brazen portals. Why do the Delian palms incline their boughs, Self-mov'd: and hov'ring fwans, their throats releas'd From native filence, carol founds harmonious? Begin, young men, the hymn: let all your harps Break their inglorious filence; and the dance, In myftic numbers trod, explain the mufic. But first by ardent pray'r, and clear luftration Purge the contagious spots of human weakness: Impure no mortal can behold Apollo, So may ye flourish favour'd by the god, In youth with happy nuptials, and in age With filver hairs, and fair defcent of children; So lay foundations for aspiring cities, And bless your spreading colonies' encrease. Pay facred rev'rence to Apollo's song; Left wrathful the far-fhooting God emit His fatal arrows. Silent nature stands;

And feas fubfide, obedient to the found
Of Io, Io Pean! nor dares Thetis

Longer bewail her lov'd Achilles' death:

For Phoebus was his foe. Nor must fad Niobe

In fruitless forrow perfevere, or weep

Ev'n thro' the Phrygian marble. Hapless mother! Whose fondness could compare her mortal off-spring To thofe which fair Latona bore to Jove.

Jo! again repeat ye, Io Pean!

Against the Deity 'tis hard to ftrive.

He that refifts the pow'r of Ptolemy,

Refifts the pow'r of heav'n: for pow'r from heav'n
Derives; and monarchs rule by gods appointed.
Recite Apollo's praise, till night draws on,
The ditty ftill unfinish'd; and the day
Unequal to the Godhead's attributes
Various, and matter copious of your fongs.
Sublime at Jove's right hand Apollo fits,
And thence diftributes honour, gracious king,
And theme of verfe perpetual. From his robe
Flows light ineffable: his harp, his quiver,
And Liftian bow are gold: with golden fandals
His feet are fhod; how rich! how beautiful!
Beneath his steps the yellow minʼral rifes ;

And earth reveals her treasures. Youth and beauty
Eternal deck his cheek: from his fair head
Perfumes diftill their fweets; and chearful Health,
His duteous handmaid, thro' the air improv❜d,
With lavish hand diffufes fcents ambrofial..

2

The fpear-man's arm by thee, great God, directed, Sends forth a certain wound. The laurel'd bard, Infpir'd by thee, compofes verfe immortal.. Taught by thy art divine, the sage physician Eludes the urn; and chains, or exiles death.

Thee Nomian we adore; for that from heav'n
Defcending, thou on fair Amphrysus' banks
Didft guard Admetus' herds. Sithence the cow
Produc'd an ampler store of milk; the fhe-goat
Not without pain dragg'd her diftended udder;
And ewes, that erst brought forth but single lambs,
Now dropp'd their two-fold burdens. blest the cattle,
On which Apollo caft his fav'ring eye!

But, Phoebus, thou to man beneficent,
Delight'st in building cities. Bright Diana,
Kind fifter to thy infant-deity

New-wean'd, and just arising from the cradle,
Brought hunted wild goats-heads, and branching antlers
Of stags, the fruit and honour of her toil.

These with discerning hand thou knew'st to range,
(Young as thou waft) and in the well-fram'd models,
With emblematic skill, and mystic order,

Thou shew'dft, where towers or battlements should rife;
Where gates should open; or where walls should compass:
While from thy childish pastime man receiv'd
The future ftrength, and ornament of nations.
Battus, our great progenitor, now touch'd
The Libyan ftrand; when the foreboding crow
Flew on the right before the people, marking
The country deftin'd the auspicious feat
Of future kings, and favour of the God,
Whose oath is fure, and promise stands eternal.
Or Boedromian hear'ft thou pleas'd, or Clarian,
Phoebus, great king? for diff'rent are thy names,
As thy kind hand has founded many cities,
Or dealt benign thy various gifts to man.◄
Carnean let me call thee; for my country.
Calls thee Carnean: the fair colony

Thrice by thy gracious guidance was transported,

Ere fettl'd in Cyrene; there w' appointed
Thy annual feafts, kind god, and bless thy altars
Smoaking with hecatombs of flaughter'd bulls;
As Carnus, thy high priest and favour'd friend,
Had erft ordain'd; and with mysterious rites,
Our great forefathers taught their fons to worship.
Io Carnean Phoebus! Io Pean!

The yellow Crocus there, and fair Narciffus
Referve the honours of their winter flore,
To deck thy temple; 'till returning spring
Diffufes nature's various pride; and flow'rs
Innumerable, by the foft fouth-west

Open'd, and gather'd by religious hands,
Rebound their sweets from th' odoriferous pavement.
Perpetual fires fhine hallow'd on thy altars,

When annual the Carnean feast is held:

The warlike Libyans clad in armor, lead

The dance; with clanging swords and shields they beat
The dreadful measure: in the chorus join
Their women, brown but beautiful: fuch rites
To thee well pleafing. Nor had yet thy votaries,
From Greece transplanted, touch'd Cyrene's banks,
And lands determin'd for their last abodes;
But wander'd thro' Azilis' horrid foreft
Difpers'd; when from Myrtufa's craggy brow,
Fond of the maid, aufpicious to the city,
Which must hereafter bear her favour'd name,
Thou gracious deign'ft to let the fair one view
Her Typic people; thou with pleasure taught'st her
To draw the bow, to flay the fhaggy lyon,
And stop the fpreading ruin of the plains.
Happy the nymph, who honour'd by thy paffion,
Was aided by thy pow'r! the monftrous Python
Durft tempt thy wrath in vain: for dead he fell,