THE

GOLDEN VERSES OF PYTHAGORAS.

TRANSLATED FROM THE GREEK,

TO THE READER.

Hope the reader will forgive the liberty I have taken in tranflating thefe Verfes fomewhat at large, without which it would have been almost impoffible to bave given any kind of turn in English poetry to fo dry a fubject. The fenfe of the Author is, I hope, no zbere mistaken; and if there feems in fome places to be fome additions in the English verfes to the Greek text, they are only fuch as may be juftified from Hierocles's Commentary, and delivered by bim as the larger and explained sense of the Author's bort precept. I bave in fome few places ventured | to differ from the learned Mr. Dacier's French interpretation, as thofe that fall give themfelves the trouble of a strict comparison will find. How far I am in the right, is left to the reader to deter

mine.

F

IRST to the gods thy humble homage pay; The greatest this, and firft of laws obey; Perform thy vows, obferve thy plighted troth, And let religion bind thee to thy oath. The heroes next demand thy just regard, Renown'd on earth, and to the stars preferr'd, To light and endless life, their virtue's fure reward.

fure

4

ΤΟ

Due rights perform and honours to the dead,
To every wife, to every pious fhade.
Vith lowly duty to thy parents bow,
Aid grace and favour to thy kindred fhew:
For what concerns the reft of human kind,
Choob out the man to virtue beft inclin'd;
Him to hy arms receive, him to thy befom bind.
Poffeft of ich a friend, preferve him still;
Nor thwart is counfels with thy stubborn will;
Pliant to all h. admonitions prove,
And yield to all is offices of love:

Him from thy heart. so true, so justly dear,

Let no rash word, n light offences tear.
Bear all thou canft, ftit.with his failings itrive,
And to the utmost still, ad ftill forgive;
For strong neceffity alone,
plores
The fecret vigour of our latet powers,
Rouzes and urges on the lazy art,
Force, to itself unknown before,+'exert.

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By use thy ftronger appetites affwage,
Thy gluttony, thy floth, thy luft, thy rage:
From each difhoneft act of fhame forbear;
Of others, and thyfelf, alike beware.
Let reverence of thyfelf thy thoughts control,
And guard the facred temple of thy foul.
Let justice o'er thy word and deed prefide,
And reafon ev'n thy meanest actions guide:
For know that death is man's appointed doom, 35
Know that the day of great account will come,
When thy past life shall strictly be furvey'd,
Each word, each deed, be in the balance laid,
And all the good and all the ill most justly be
repaid.

40

For wealth, the perishing, uncertain good,
Ebbing and flowing like the fickle flood,
That knows no fure, no fix'd abiding-place,
But wandering loves from hand to hand to pass;
Revolve the getter's joy and lofer's pain,
And think if it be worth thy while to gain. 45
Of all thofe forrows that attend mankind,
With patience bear the lot to thee allign'd;
Nor think it chance, nor murmur at the load;
For know what man calls Fortune is from God.
In what thou may'ft, from wisdom feek relief, 50
And let her healing hand affwage thy grief;
Yet ftill whate'er the righteous doom ordains,
What caufe foever multiplies thy pains,
Let not thofe pains as ills be understood;
For God delights not to afflict the good.

55

The reafoning art, to various ends apply'd, Is oft a fure, but oft an erring guide. Thy judgment therefore found and cool pre

ferve,

Nor lightly from thy refolution swerve;

The dazzling pomp of words does oft deceive, 60
And fweet perfuafion wins the easy to believe.
When fools and lyars labour to perfuade,
Be dumb, and let the babblers vainly plead.
This above all, this precept chiefly learn,
This nearly does, and first, thyself concern; 65
Let not example, let no foothing tongue,
Prevail upon thee with a Syren's fong,
To do thy foul's immortal effence wrong.
Of good and ill by words or deeds exprest,
Choose for thyfelf, and always choose the best. 70
Let wary thought each enterprize forerun,
And ponder on thy task before begun,
Left fry fhould the wretched work deface,
And mock thy fruitlefs labours with difgrace.

Fools huddle on, and always are in haste,

75 Act without thought, and thoughtless words they waste.

But thou, in all thou doft, with early cares
Strive to prevent at first a fate like theirs ;
That forrow on the end may never wait,
Nor fharp repentance make thee wife too late. 80
Beware thy meddling hand in ought to try,
That does beyond thy reach of knowledge lie;
But feek to know, and bend thy ferious thought
To fearch the profitable knowledge out.
So joys on joys for ever fhall increase,
Wifdom fhall crown thy labours, and shall blefs

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Nor let the body want its part, but share A juft proportion of thy tender care; For health and welfare prudently provide, And let its lawful wants be all fupply'd. Let fober draughts refresh, and wholefome fare Decaying nature's wafted force repair; And fprightly exercife the duller fpirits chear. In all things ftill which to this care belong, Observe this rule, to guard thy foul from wrong. By virtuous ufe thy life and manners frame, 96 Manly and fimply pure, and free from blame. Provoke not envy's deadly rage, but fly The glancing curfe of her malicious eye. Seek not in needlefs luxury to waste Thy wealth and fubftance with a spendthrift's hafte. Yet flying thefe, be watchful left thy mind, Prone to extremes, an equal danger find, And be to fordid avarice inclin'd. Distant alike from each, to neither lean, But ever keep the happy Golden Mean.

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ΓΙΟ

Be careful till to guard thy foul from wrong, And let thy thought prevent thy hand and tongue. Let not the ftealing God of Sleep furprize, Nor creep in flumbers on thy weary eyes, Ere every action of the former day Strictly thou doft and righteously survey, With reverence at thy own tribunal ftand, And answer juftly to thy own demand. Where have I been? In what have I tranfgrefs'd? What good or ill has this day's life exprefs'd? 116 Where have I fail'd in what I ought to do? In what to God, to man, or to myself I owe? Inquire fevere what-e'er from first to laft, From morning's dawn, till evening's gloom, has past.

120

If evil were thy deeds, repenting mourn,
And let thy foul with ftrong remorse be torn.
It good, the good with peace of mind repay,
And to thy fecret self with pleasure say,
Rejoice, my heart, for all went well to-day.
Thefe thoughts, and chiefly these thy mind
fhould move,
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Employ thy ftudy, and engage thy love.
Thefe are the rules which will to virtue lead,
And teach thy feet her heavenly paths to tread.
This by his name I fwear, whofe facred lore
First to mankind explain'd the myftic Four,
Source of eternal nature and almighty power.
In all thou doft first let thy prayers afcend,
And to the gods thy labours first commend:
From them implore fuccefs, and hope a profpe-
rous end.

Who bears within himself the inborn caufe of woe,
Unhappy race! that never yet could tell,
How near their good and happinefs they dwell. 149
Depriv'd of fenfe, they neither hear nor fee;
Fetter'd in vice, they seek not to be free,
But ftupid, to their own fad fate agree:
Like ponderous rolling-ftones, opprefs'd with ill,.
The weight that loads them makes them roll
on ftill,

Bereft of choice, and freedom of the will;
For native ftrife in every bosom reigns,
And fecretly an impious war maintains :
Brovoke not this, but let the combat ceafe,
And every yielding paffion fue for peace.
Would't thou, great Jove, thou father of man-
kind,

156

Relates whate'er her bufy eyes beheld,
And tells the fortune of each bloody field;
While, with officious duty, crowds attend,
To hail the labours of the god-like friend,
Vouchsafe the Mufe's humbler joy to hear;
For facred numbers fhall be still thy care;
Though mean the verfe, though lowly be the
ftrain,

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Though leaft regarded be the Mufe, of all the tuneful train,

Yet rife, neglected nymph, avow thy flame,
Affert th' inpiring god, and greatly aim
To make thy numbers equal to thy theme.
From heaven derive thy verse; to heaven belong
The counfels of the wife, and battles of the
ftrong.

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To heaven the royal Anna owes, alone,
The virtues which adorn and guard her throne;
Thence is her juftice wretches to redress,
Thence is her mercy and her love of peace;
Thence is her power, her fceptre uncontrol'd,
To bend the stubborn, and reprefs the bold;
Her peaceful arts fierce factions to affwage,
To heal their breaches, and to footh their rage; 25
Thence is that happy prudence, which prefides
In each defign, and every action guides;
Thence is the taught her fhining court to grace,
And fix the worthieft in the worthieft place,
To truft at home Godolphin's watchful care, 30
And fend victorious Churchill forth to war.

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Arife, ye nations rescued by her sword, Freed from the bondage of a foreign lord, Arife, and join the heroine to bless, Behold the fonds to fave you from distress; Rich is the royal bounty she bestows, 'Tis plenty, peace, and fafety from your foes. And thou, Iberia! rous'd at length, difdain To wear inflav'd the Gallic tyrant's chain. For fee! the British genius comes, to chear Thy fainting fons, and kindle them to war. With her own glorious fires their fouls fhe warms, And bids them burn for liberty and arms, Unhappy land! the foremost once in fame, Once lifting to the ftars thy noble name, In arts excelling, and in arms fevere, The western kingdoms' envy, and their fear : Where is thy pride, thy confcious honour, flown, Thy ancient valour, and thy first renown? How art thou funk among the nations now! How hast thou taught thy haughty neck to bow, And drop the warrior's wreath inglorious from thy brow!

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Nor fate denies, what first his wishes name,
Proud Barcelona owns his jufter claim,
With the first laurel binds his youthful brows,
And, pledge of future crowns, the mural wreath
bestows.

But foon the equal of his youthful years,
Philip of Bourbon's haughty line appears;
Like hopes attend his birth, like glories grace,
(If glory can be in a tyrant's race)

86

In numbers proud, he threats no more from far, 90
But nearer draws the black impending war;
He views his hoft, then fcorns the rebel town,
And dooms to certain death the rival of his crown.
Now fame and empire, all the nobler spoils
That urge the hero, and reward his toils, 95
Plac'd in their view, alike their hopes engage,
And fire their breafts with more than mortal rage.
Not lawless love, not vengeance, nor despair,
So daring, fierce, untam'd, and furious are,
As when ambition prompts the great to war;
As youthful kings, when, ftriving for renown, 101
They prove their might in arms, and combat for

a crown.

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Hard was the cruel ftrife, and doubtful long Betwixt the chiefs fufpended conqueft hung; Till, forc'd as length, difdaining much to yield, Charles to his rival quits the fatal field. Numbers and fortune o'er his right prevail, And ev❜n the British valour feems to fail; And yet they fail'd not all. In that extreme, Conscious of virtue, liberty, and fame, They vow the youthful monarch's fate to fhare," Above diftrefs, unconquer'd by despair, Still to defend the town and animate the war. But, lo! when every better hope was past, When every day of danger feem'd their last, 115 Far on the diftant ocean, they survey, Where a proud navy plows its watery way. Nor long they doubted, but with joy descry, Upon the chief's tall top-mafts waving high, The British crofs and Belgic lion fly. Loud with tumultuous clamour, loud they rear 121 Their cries of ecftafy, and rend the air; In peals on peals the shouts triumphant rife, Spread fwift, and rattle through the spacious skies; While, from below, old ocean groans profound,. 'The walls, the rocks, the fhores, repel the found, Ring with the deafening fhock, and thunder all around.

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Fatal ambition! say what wondrous charms
Delude mankind to toil for thee in arms!
When all thy fpoils, thy wreaths in battle won,
The pride of power, and glory of a crown,
When all war gives, when all the great can gain,
Ev'n thy whole pleasure, pays not half thy pain.
All hail! ye fofter, happier arts of peace, 150
Secur'd from harms, and blefs'd with learned eafe;
In battles, blood, and perils hard, unskill'd,
Which haunt the warrior in the fatal field;
But chief, thee, Goddefs Mufe! my verfe would
raife,

And to thy own foft numbers tune thy praife; 155
Happy the youth inspir'd, beneath thy fhade,
Thy verdant, ever-living laurels laid!
There, fafe, no pleasures, there no pains they'
know,

162

But thofe which from thy facred raptures flow,
Nor with for crowns, but what thy groves bestow..
Me, nymph divine! nor fcorn my humble prayer,
Receive unworthy, to thy kinder care,
Doom'd to a gentler, though more lowly, fate,
Nor wifhing once, nor knowing to be great;
Me, to thy peaceful haunts, inglorious bring,
Where fecret thy celeftial fifters fing,
Paft by their facred hill, and sweet Caftalian

fpring.

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But nobler thoughts the victor prince employ,
And raise his heart with high triumphant joy;
From hence a better courfe of time rolls on, 170
And whiter days fucceflive feem to run.
From hence his kinder fortune feem to date
The rifing glories of his future ftate,

180

From hence!-But oh! too foon the hero mourns
His hopes deceiv'd, and war's inconstant turns. 175
In vain, his echoing trumpets loud alarms
Provoke the cold Iberian lords to arms;
Careless of fame, as of their monarch's fate,
In fullen floth fupinely proud they fate;
Or to be flaves or free alike prepar'd,
And trufting heaven was bound to be their guard,
Untouch'd with fhame, the noble ftrife beheld,
Nor once effay'd to ftruggle to the field;
But fought in the cold fhade, and rural feat,
An unmolefted eafe and calm retreat :
Saw each contending prince's arms advance,
Then with a lazy dull indifference

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Turn'd to their reft, and left the world to chance.

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So when, commanded by the wife of Jove,
Thaumantian Iris left the realms above,
And swift defcending on her painted bow,
Sought the dull god of sleep in fhades below;
Nodding and flow, his drowsy head he rear'd,
And heavily the facred message heard;
Then with a yawn at once forgot the pain, 195
And funk to his first sloth and indolence again.
But oh, my Muse! th' ungrateful toil forfake,
Some task more pleafing to thy numbers take,
Nor choose in melancholy ftrains to tell
Each harder chance the jufter cause befel.
Or rather turn, aufpicious turn thy flight,
Where Marlborough's heroic arms invite,
Where highest deeds the poet's breast inspire
With rage divine, and fan the facred fire.
See! where at once Ramillia's noble field
Ten thousand themes for living verse shall yield.
See! where at once the dreadful objects rife,
At once they spread before my wondering eyes,
And fhock my labouring foul with vaft furprize;
At once the wide-extended battles move,
At once they join, at once their fate they prove.
The roar afcends promifcuous; groans and cries,
The drums, the canons' burft, the shout, fupplies
One univerfal anarchy of noife.

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One din confus'd, found mixt and lost in found, 215
Echoes to all the frighted cities round.
Thick duft and smoke in wavy clouds arife,
Stain the bright day, and taint the purer skies;
While flashing flames like lightning dart between,
And fill the horror of the fatal scene.
Around the field, all dy'd in purple foam,
Hate, fury, and infatiate flaughter roam;
Difcord with pleasure o'er the ruin treads,
And laughing wraps her in her tatter'd weeds; 224
While fierce Bellona thunders in her car,
Shakes terribly her steely whip from far,
And with new rage revives the fainting war.
So when two currents, rapid in their course,
Rush to a point, and meet with equal force, 229
The angry billows rear their heads on high,
Dafhing aloft the foaming furges fly,

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But chief, the Angel of his Queen was there,
The union-crofs his filver fhield did bear,
And in his decent hand he fhook a warlike fpear.
While Victory celestial foars above,
Plum'd like the eagle of imperial Jove,
Hangs o'er the chief, whom the delights to blefs,
And ever arms his fword with fure fuccefs,
Dooms him the proud oppreffor to destroy, 260
Then waves her palm, and claps her wings for joy.
Such was young Ammon on Arbela's plain,
Or fuch the painter did the hero feign,
Where rufhing on, and fierce, he seems to ride,
With graceful ardor, and majestic pride,
With all the gods of Greece and fortune on his
fide

274

Nor long Bavaria's haughty prince in vain Labours the fight unequal to maintain; He fees 'tis doom'd his fatal friend the Gaul Shall fhare the fhame, and in one ruin fall; 270 Flies from the foe too oft in battle try'd, And heaven contending on the victor's fide; Then mourns his rafh ambition's crime too late, And yields reluctant to the force of fate. So when Æneas, through night's gloomy fhade, The dreadful forms of hoftilę gods furvey'd, Hopeless he left the burning town, and fled : Saw 'twas in vain to prop declining Troy, Or fave what heaven had deftin'd to destroy. What vaft reward, O Europe, fhalt thou pay 280 To him who fav'd thee on this glorious day! Blefs him, ye grateful nations, where he goes, And heap the victor's laurel on his brows.

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In every land, in every city freed Let the proud column rear its marble head, To Marlborough and Liberty decreed; Rich with his wars, triumphal arches raife, 287 To teach your wandering fons the hero's praise ! To him your skilful bards their verfe fhall bring, For him the tuneful voice be taught to fing, The breathing pipe fhall fwell, fhall found the trembling ftring.

O happy thou! where peace for ever smiles, Britannia! nobleft of the ocean's ifles, Fair queen! who doft amidst thy waters reign, And ftretch thy empire o'er the fartheft main: 295 What tranfports in thy parent bofom roll'd, When fame at firft the pleafing story told! How didst thou lift thy towery front on high! Not meanly conscious of a mother's joy, 299 Proud of thy fon, as Crete was of her Jove, How wert thou pleas'd heaven did thy choice

340

Ev'n his own Sunderland, in beauty's flore
So rich, the feem'd incapable of more,
Now fhines with graces never known before.
Fierce with transporting joy fhe feems to burn,
And each foft feature takes a fprightly turn;
New flames are feen to fparkle in her eyes,
And on her blooming cheeks fresh roses rife;
The pleafing paffion heightens each bright hue, 330
And feems to touch the finifh'd piece anew,
Improves what nature's bounteous hand hath given,'
And mends the faireft workmanship of heaven.
Nor joy like this in courts is only found,
But spreads to all the grateful people round; 335.
Laborious hinds inur'd to rural toil,
To tend the flocks and turn the mellow foil,
In homely guife their honeft hearts exprefs,
And blefs the warrior who protects the peace,
Who keeps the foe aloof, and drives afar
The dreadful ravage of the wafting war.
No rude deftroyer cuts the ripening crop,
Prevents the harveft, and deludes their hope;
No helpless wretches fly with wild amaze,
Look weeping back, and fee their dwellings blaze;
The victor's chain no mournful captives know, 346
Nor hear the threats of the infulting foe,
But Freedom laughs, the fruitful fields abound,
The chearful voice of mirth is heard to found,
And Plenty doles her various bounties round.
The humble village, and the wealthy town, 351
Confenting join their happiness to own:
What heaven and Anna's gentleft reign afford,
All is fecur'd by Marlborough's conquering fword.
O facred, ever honour'd name! O thou! 355
That wert our greatcft William once below!
What place foe'er thy virtues now poffefs
Near the bright fource of everlasting blifs,
Where-e'er exalted to etherial height,
Radiant with stars, thou tread'ft the fields of light,
Thy feats divine, thy heaven a-while forfake, 361
And deign the Britons' triumph to partake.
Nor art thou chang'd, but ftill thou fhalt delight,
To hear the fortune of the glorious fight, ight.

What once below, fuch ftill thy pleasures are, 366
Europe and Liberty are ftill thy care;
Thy great, thy generous, pure, immortal mind,
Is ever to the public good inclin'd,

Is ftill the tyrant's foe, and patron of mankind.,
Behold where Marlborough, thy laft best gift, 371
At parting to thy native Belgia left,
Succeeds to all thy kind paternal cares,

Thy watchful counfels, and laborious wars;

VOL. IV.