And he and I will be as far asunder
As life and death: the grave shall be betwixt us. 248. Love, the disturber of the peace of heaven,
And grand fomenter of Olympian feuds,
Was banish'd from the synod of the gods:
They drove him down to earth at the expense
Of us poor mortals, and curtail'd his wings
To spoil his soaring, and secure themselves
From his annoyance. Selfish, hard decree!
For ever since he roams th' unquiet world,
The tyrant and despoiler of mankind.
249. In doubt I still remain, nor can discover
Whether a race of children to beget
Is best for man, or to enjoy the fruits
Of life without them; for I see that they
Are wretched who have none, and they who bear
A father's name not happier: for if sons
Prove wicked, they are curses; but if good,
Ensues this evil, the paternal breast
They fill with care lest mischief should befall them. 250. The wonted bow across her shoulders slung. All gracefully, a huntress she appear'd, Giving her locks to float upon the wind. Her knee was bare; her vesture's wavy folds Were gather'd in a knot, and first she speaks: Ho! youths, inform me, have your eyes beheld One of my sisters wandering in these glades With quiver girt and hide of spotted lynx, Or chasing with loud shout the foaming boar? You have worth
Richly enamell'd with a modesty ;
And though your lofty merit might sit crown'd
On Caucasus, or the Pyrenean mountains,
You choose the humble valley, and had rather
Grow a safe shrub below, than dare the winds
And be a cedar. Sir, you know there is not
Half so much honour in the pilot's place
As danger in the storm.
In our young prime of years, are like green herbs,
With which we strew the houses of our friends;
For as their virtue, gather'd when they're green,
Before they wither or corrupt, is best;
So we in virtue are the best for death,
While yet we have not liv'd to such an age,
That the increasing canker of our sins
Hath spread too far upon us.
253. Y. Use no entreaty, for it is in vain.
P. Then lead me hence;-with whom I leave my
May never glorious sun reflex his beams
Upon the country where you make abode!
But darkness and the gloomy shade of death
Environ you; till mischief, and despair,
Drive you to break your necks, or hang your-
selves!
Y. Break thou in pieces, and consume to ashes,
Thou foul accursed minister of hell!
254. Here the recesses of a myrtle wood
Hide those, whom love with canker-grief consum'd:
Not ev❜n in death their sorrows are at rest.
Here Phædra, Procris, and Pasiphae,
Laodamia, and Evadne dwell;
And woful Eriphyle, showing still
The cruel wounds inflicted by her son : And Cœneus, now a woman, once a man, But to her ancient form by fate restor❜d. 255. A. Eestus dies est. C. Festus et Trojæ fuit. A. Veneremur aras. C. Cecidit ante aras pater.
A. Credis videre te Ilium? C. Et Priamum simul.
C. Ubi Helena est, Trojam
A. Ne metue dominam famula. C. Libertas adest.
A. Secura vive. C. Mors mihi est securitas.
A. Nullum est periclum tibimet. C. At magnum
A. Victor timere quid potest. C. Quod non timet.
256. As vinegar to the teeth, and as smoke to the eyes,
So is the loiterer to those who send him.
The fear of the Lord prolongeth life;
But the years of the wicked shall be shortened.
The patience of the just shall bring gladness;
But the hope of the wicked shall be disappointed.
The way of the Lord is courage to the upright;
But terror is on them that do evil.
The just man shall be immovable for ever;
But the wicked shall not dwell on the earth.
257. O bane of good, seducing cheat,
Can man, weak man, thy power defeat?
Gold banish'd honour from the mind,
And only left the name behind;
Gold sow'd the world with every ill;
Gold taught the murd'rous sword to kill.
'Twas gold instructed coward hearts
In treachery's more pernicious arts.
Who can recount the mischiefs o'er?
Virtue resides on earth no more.
258. I. Uncertain ever is the chance of arms:
No prudent warrior doth despise his foe.
Nor yet defenceless 'gainst severity
Hath nature left the weak; she gives him craft
And wily cunning; artful he delays,
Evades, eludes, and finally escapes.
Such arms are justified by violence.
T. But circumspection countervails deceit.
I. Which a pure spirit doth abhor to use.
T. Do not incautiously condemn thyself.
259. All are not just because they do no wrong;
But he who will not wrong me when he may,
He is the truly just. I praise not them,
Who in their petty dealings pilfer not;
But him whose conscience spurns a secret fraud,
When he might plunder and defy surprise.
His be the praise, who, looking down with scorn
On the false judgment of the partial herd,
Consults his own clear heart, and boldly dares
To be, not to be thought, an honest man.
260. E. Sweet lady, gentle lady, dearest lady,
O be not ruthless to a soul bow'd down
In extreme wretchedness.
C. Cease, cease; unlock thy hold: embrace me not.
Has he for whom thou plead'st from out thyself
Receiv'd his being, press'd with infant lips
Thy yearning bosom, smil'd upon thy knees,
And bless'd thine ear with his first voice of words?
Away, away: despair hath made thee mad
That thus thou hang'st upon me.
261. Son of Anchises, progeny divine,
The waters of Cocytus thou beholdest,
And marshy pool of Styx, whose sanctity
The Gods with oath inviolable binds.
All these are Ghosts unburied and forlorn ;
Yon boatman, Charon; those that sail, th' interr'd:
For none may he across the floods transport,
Whose bones in earth repose not. Hundred years
They wander, flitting round these doleful shores,
Then they return, and find their passage free.
262. The laws our native rights protect;
Offending thee, I those respect.
Shall luxury corrupt the hive,
And none against the torrent strive?
'Tis industry our state maintains:
'Twas honest toils and honest gains
That rais'd our sires to pow'r and fame.
Be virtuous; save yourselves from shame.
Know that, in selfish ends pursuing,
You scramble for the public ruin.
263. Brother, command thyself, and better know
Thy new-found sister, nor misconstrue thus
Her pure and heavenly joy. Ye gods, remove
From his fix'd eye delusion, lest this hour
Of highest bliss should make us trebly wretched !
Oh she is here, thy own, thy long-lost sister,
Whom great Diana from the altar snatch'd,
And safely plac'd here in her sacred fane.
A captive thou, prepar'd for sacrifice,
And findest here a sister in the priestess.
264. A gracious sovereign throws his portals wide,
Admitting every guest, excluding none,
As freely as the firmament the world;
So mercy must encircle friend and foe.
The sun pours forth his vivifying beams
Through all the regions of infinity;
The heavens impartially dispense their dew,
And bring refreshment to each thirsty plant.
Whate'er is good, and cometh from on high,
Is universal and without reserve.
265. Too soon, grim monarch, with unholy hand,
You snatch'd this infant to your dreary land,
Like some fair rose-bud pluck'd from mortal sight
Ere all its beauties open into light.
Cease, wretched parents, cease your wailings wild,
Nor mourn for ever your departed child;
Her youthful graces, and her form so fair,
Deserv'd a dwelling in the realms of air.
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