On its dark fide if thou the profpect take; Grant all forgot beyond black Lethe's lake; In total death fuppofe the mortal lie,
No new hereafter, nor a future sky:
Yet bear thy lot content; yet cease to grieve: Why, ere death comes, doft thou forbear to live? The little time thou haft, 'twixt inftant now And Fate's approach, is all the Gods allow : And of this little haft thou aught to fpare To fad reflection, and corroding care? The moments paft, if thou art wife, retrieve With pleafant memory of the blifs they gave. The prefent hours in prefent mirth employ, And bribe the future with the hopes of joy: The future (few or more, howe'er they be) Were deftin'd erft; nor can by Fate's decree Be now cut off betwixt the grave and thee.
FIRST HYMN OF CALLIMACHUS.
WHILE we to Jove select the holy victim,
Whom apter fhall we fing, than Jove himself,
The God for ever great, for ever king,
Who flew the Earth-born race, and measures right To heaven's great habitants? Dictaan hear'ft thou More joyful, or Lycæan, long difpute
And various thought has trac'd. On Ida's mount, Or Dicte, ftudious of his country's praife,
The Cretan boasts thy natal place: but oft' He meets reproof deferv'd: for he prefumptuous Has built a tomb for thee, who never know'st To die, but liv'ft the fame to-day and ever. Arcadian therefore be thy birth: Great Rhea, Pregnant to high Parrhafia's cliffs retir'd, And wild Lycæus, black with fhading pines: Holy retreat! fithence no female hither, Confcious of focial love and nature's rites, Muft dare approach, from the inferior reptile To woman, form divine. There the bleft parent Ungirt her fpacious bofom, and difcharg'd The ponderous birth; fhe fought a neighbouring spring To wash the recent babe; in vain : Arcadia, (However streamy) now aduft and dry,
Deny'd the Goddess water; where deep Melas And rocky Cratis flow, the chariot fmoak'd, Obfcure with rifing duft: the thirsty traveller In vain requir'd the current, then imprifon'd In fubterraneous caverns: forefts grew
Upon the barren hollows, high o'ershading The haunts of favage beafts, where now Iaon And Erimanth incline their friendly urns.
Thou too, O Earth, great Rhea faid, bring forth; And short shall be thy pangs. She faid; and high She rear'd her arm, and with her fceptre ftruck The yawning cliff: from its difparted height Adown the mount the gushing torrent ran,
And cheer'd the vallies: there the heavenly mother Bath'd, mighty king, thy tender limbs : she wrapt them In purple bands: fhe gave the precious pledge To prudent Neda, charging her to guard thee, Careful and fecret; Neda, of the nymphs That tended the great birth, next Philyre And Styx, the eldeft. Smiling, she receiv'd thee, And, conscious of the grace, abfolv'd her trust : Not unrewarded; fince the river bore
The favourite virgin's name; fair Neda rolls By Leprion's ancient walls, a fruitful stream. Faft by her flowery bank the fons of Arcas, Favourites of Heaven, with happy care protect Their fleecy charge; and joyous drink her wave. Thee, God, to Cnoffus Neda brought; the nymphs And Corybantes thee, their facred charge, Receiv'd: Adrafte rock'd thy golden cradle : The goat, now bright amidst her fellow-ftars, Kind Amalthea, reach'd her teat diftent With milk, thy early food: the fedulous bee Diftill'd her honey on thy purple lips.
Around, the fierce Curetes (order folemn To thy fore-knowing mother!) trod tumultuous Their myftic dance, and clang'd their founding arms, Industrious with the warlike din to quell
Thy infant cries, and mock the ear of Saturn: Swift growth and wondrous grace, O heavenly Jove, Waited thy blooming years: inventive wit, And perfect judgment, crown'd thy youthful act. That Saturn's fons receiv'd the three-fold empire
Of heaven, of ocean, and deep hell beneath, As the dark urn and chance of lot determin'd, Old poets mention, fabling. Things of moment,. Well nigh equivalent and neighbouring value, By lot are parted: but high heaven, thy fhare, In equal balance laid 'gainst fea or hell,
Flings up the adverse scale, and fhuns 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, Inceffant; high the eagle flies before thee.. And oh! as I and mine confult thy augur, Grant the glad omen; let thy favourite rise Propitious, ever foaring from the right.
Thou to the leffer Gods haft well affign'd Their proper fhares of power: thy own, great Jove,
Boundless and univerfal. Thofe who labour The fweaty forge, who edge the crooked scythe, Bend ftubborn steel, and harden gleening armour, Acknowledge Vulcan's aid. The early hunter Bleffes Diana's hand, who leads him fafe
O'er hanging cliffs, who spreads his net fuccessful, And guides the arrow through the panther's heart. The foldier, from fuccessful 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. Thofe, mighty Jove, mean time, 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 fubordinate
To what thy will defigns, thou giv'ft the means Proportion'd to the work; thou feest impartial How they those means employ. Each monarch rules His different realm, accountable to thee, Great ruler of the world: these only have To fpeak and be obey'd; to those are given 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 act, and impotence of council. Hail! greateft fon of Saturn, wife difpofer Of every good: thy praise what man yet born Has fung? or who that may be born fhall fing? Again, and often hail! indulge our prayer, Great father! grant us virtue, grant us wealth : For, without virtue, wealth no man avails not ; And virtue without wealth exerts lefs power, And lefs diffuses good. Then grant us, gracious, Virtue and wealth; for both are of thy gift!
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