In equal balance laid 'gainst sea or hell,

Flings up the adverse scale, and shuns proportion. Wherefore not chance, but power, above thy

brethren

Exalted thee, their king. When thy great will
Commands thy chariot forth, impetuous strength,
And fiery swiftness wing the rapid wheels,
Incessant; high the eagle flies before thee,
And oh as I and mine consult thy augur,
Grant the glad omen: let thy favourite rise
Propitious, ever soaring from the right.

Thou to the lesser gods hast well assign'd
Their proper shares of power: thy own, great Jove,
Boundless and universal. Those who labour
The sweaty forge, who edge the crooked scythe,
Bend stubborn steel, and harden gleening armour,
Acknowledge Vulcan's aid. The early hunter
Blesses Diana's hand, who leads him safe
O'er hanging cliffs, who spreads his net successful,
And guides the arrow through the panther's heart,
The soldier, from successful camps returning
With laurel wreath'd, and rich with hostile spoil,
Severs the bull to Mars. The skilful bard,
Striking the Thracian harp, invokes Apollo,
To make his hero and himself immortal.
Those, mighty Jove, meantime, thy glorious care,
Who model nations, publish laws, announce
Or life or death, and found or change the empire.
Man owns the power of kings; and kings of Jove.
And, as their actions tend subordinate

To what thy will designs, thou giv'st the means

Proportion'd to the work; thou seest impartial,
How they those means employ. Each monarch rules
His different realm, accountable to thee,

Great ruler of the world: these only have
To speak and be obey'd; to those are given
Assistant days to ripen the design;

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

Their tedious life, and mourn their purpose blasted With fruitless act, and impotence of council.

Hail! greatest son of Saturn, wise disposer Of every good thy praise what man yet born Has sung? 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 power, And less diffuses good. Then grant us, gracious, Virtue and wealth; for both are of thy gift.

THE SECOND HYMN OF CALLIMACHUS.

TO APOLLO

HAH! how the laurel, great Apollo's tree,
And all the cavern shakes! far off, far off,
The man that is unhallow'd: for the god,

The god approaches. Hark! he knocks; the gates

Feel the glad impulse: and the sever'd bars Submissive clink against their brazen portals. Why do the Delian palms incline their boughs, Self-mov'd and hovering swans, their throats releas'd,

From native silence, carol sounds harmonious?

Begin, young men, the hymn : let all your harps
Break their inglorious silence; and the dance,
In mystic numbers trod, explain the music.
But first by ardent prayer, and clear lustration,
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 silver hairs, and fair descent of children ;
So lay foundations for aspiring cities,
And bless your spreading colonies' increase.
Pay sacred reverence to Apollo's song ;
Lest wrathful the far-shooting god emit
His fatal arrows. Silent Nature stands ;
And seas subside, obedient to the sound
Of Iö Iö Pean! nor dares Thetis
Longer bewail her lov'd Achilles' death;

For Phoebus was his foe. Nor must sad Niobe
In fruitless sorrow persevere, or weep

E'en through the Phrygian marble. Hapless

mother!

[spring Whose fondness could compare her mortal offTo those which fair Latona bore to Jove.

Iö! again repeat ye, Iö Pean!

Against the deity 'tis hard to strive.

He that resists the power of Ptolemy,

Resists the power of heaven, for power from heaven
Derives; and monarchs rule by gods appointed.
Recite Apollo's praise, till night draws on,
The ditty still unfinish'd; and the day
Unequal to the godhead's attributes
Various, and matter copious of your songs.
Sublime at Jove's right hand Apollo sits,
And thence distributes honour, gracious king,
And theme of verse perpetual. From his robe
Flows light ineffable: his harp, his quiver,
And Lictian bow are gold: with golden sandals
His feet are shod; how rich! how beautiful!
Beneath his steps the yellow mineral rises ;
And earth reveals her treasures. Youth and beauty
Eternal deck his cheek; from his fair head
Perfumes distil their sweets; and cheerful health,
His duteous handmaid, through the air improv'd,
With lavish hand diffuses scents ambrosial.

The spearman's arm by thee, great god, directed, Sends forth a certain wound. The laurel'd bard, Inspir'd by thee, composes verse immortal. Taught by thy art divine, the sage physician Eludes the urn; and chains, or exiles death.

Thee, Nomian, we adore; for that from Heaven Descending, thou on fair Amphrysus' banks Didst guard Admetus's herds. Sithence the cow Produc'd an ampler store of milk; the she-goat Not without pain dragg'd her distended udder;

And ewes, that erst brought but single lambs, Now dropp'd their twofold burthens. Blest the

cattle,

On which Apollo cast his favouring eye!

But Phoebus, thou to man beneficent,

Delight'st in building cities.

Kind sister to thy infant deity,

Bright Diana,

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 wast) and in the well-fram'd models, With emblematic skill and mystic order,

Thou show'dst, where towers or battlements should

rise;

Where gates should open; or where walls should

compass:

While from thy childish pastime man received
The future strength and ornament of nations.

Battus, our great progenitor, now touch'd
The Libyan strand; when the foreboding crow
Flew on the right before the people, marking
The country, destin'd the auspicious seat
Of future kings, and favour of the god,
Whose oath is sure, and promise stands eternal.

Or Boëdromian hear'st thou pleas'd, or Clarian, Phœbus, great king? for different are thy names, As thy kind hand has founded many cities, Or dealt benign thy various gifts to man.