Earth and the air afford a large supply
Of animals that creep, and birds that fly.
Green bow'rs are built, with dill sweet-smelling
crown'd,

And little Cupids hover all around;

And, as young nightingales their wings essay, Skip here and there, and hop from spray to spray.

What heaps of golden vessels glittering bright!
What stores of ebon black, and ivory white!
In ivory carv'd large eagles seem to move,
And through the clouds bear Ganymede to Jove.
Lo! purple tapestry arrang'd on high
Charms the spectators with its Tyrian dye,
The Samian and Milesian swains, who keep

Large flocks, acknowledge 'tis more soft than

sleep:

Of this Adonis claims a downy bed,
And lo! another for fair Venus spread!
Her bridegroom scarce attains to nineteen years,
Rosy his lips, and no rough beard appears.
Let raptur'd Venus now enjoy her mate,
While we, descending to the city gate,
Array'd in decent robes that sweep the ground,
With naked bosoms, and with hair unbound,
Bring forth Adonis, slain in youthful years,
Ere Phœbus drinks the morning's early tears.
And while to yonder flood we march along,
With tuneful voices raise the funeral song.
"Adonis, you alone of demigods

Now visit earth, and now hell's dire abodes:
Not fam'd Atrides could this favour boast,
Nor furious Ajax, though himself a host;
Nor Hector, long his mother's grace, and joy
Of twenty sons, not Pyrrhus safe from Troy,
Not brave Patroclus of immortal fame,
Nor the fierce Lapithæ, a deathless name;
Nor sons of Pelops, nor Deucalion's race,
Nor stout Pelasgians, Argos' honour'd grace.
"As now, divine Adonis, you appear
Kind to our prayers, O bless the future year!
As now propitious to our vows you prove,
Return with meek benevolence and love."*

feast of Adonis' there were carried shells filled with earth, in which grew several sorts of herbs, especially lettuces, in memory that Adonis was laid out by Venus on a bed of lettuces: these were called xnoi, gardens; whence Adavidos xol are proverbially applied to things unfruitful, or fading; because those herbs were only sown so long before the festival, as to sprout forth, and be green at that time, and afterwards cast in the water. See Antiquit. Vol. I.

"The Adonia were celebrated in most of the Greek cities in honour of Aphrodite and her paramour Adonis. The solemnity lasted two days; the first of which was devoted to the expression of grief, the second to merriment and joy. On the first day the statues of Aphrodite and Adonis were brought forth with great pomp: the women tore their hair, beat their breasts, and went through all the show of violent grief. Small vases filled with earth, containing herbs, and especially lettuces, were carried in the pomp: these were called 'the gardens of Adonis,' and as they were presently cast out into the water, the 'gardens of Adonis' came to signify any thing unfruitful, fading, and transitory. On the second day the demonstrations of joy were made in memory of Adonis, who returned to life, and dwelt with his beloved onehalf of every year.

Gor. O, fam'd for knowledge in mysterious things!

How sweet, Praxionë, the damsel sings!
Time calls me home to keep my husband kind,
He's prone to anger if he has not din'd.
Farewell, Adonis, lov'd and honour'd boy;
O come, propitious, and augment our joy.

FROM IDYL XVI

LIBERALITY TO POETS ENJOINED.

*

NoT so the truly wise their wealth employ
'Tis theirs to welcome every coming guest,
And, blessing each departed friend, be blest;
But chiefly theirs to mark with high regard
The Muse's laurell'd priest-the holy bard;
Lest in the grave their unsung glory fade,
And their cold moan pierce Acheron's dreary
shade-

As the poor labourer, who, with portion scant,
Laments his long, hereditary want.

Saw crowding menials fill their festal rooms; What though Aleua's and the Syrian's domes What though o'er Scopas' fields rich plenty flow'd, And herds innumerous through his valleys low'd;

What though the bountiful Creondæ drove Full many a beauteous flock through many a grove;

Yet when expiring life could charm no more, And their sad spirits sought the Stygian shore, Their grandeur vanish'd with their vital breath, And riches could not follow them in death!

"Adonis was the son of Cinyras; he was killed by a wild boar, while hunting. As Aphrodite was the 'Ashtoreth of the Sidonians,' Adonis, we find, was the Thammuz worshipped in Syria. The worship of this pair made at one time great progress in Palestine; and the prophet Ezekiel says, that he saw in the vision in which the various kinds of idolatry practised at Jerusalem were shown to him, 'women sitting and weeping for Thammuz.'

"The legend of Venus and Adonis was done into English verse by Shakspeare, but with no great success. Milton has introduced the pair with striking effect in a fine passage in his 'Paradise Lost,' (book i.): :

"With these in troop

Came Ashtoreth, whom the Phoenicians called
Astarte, queen of heaven, with crescent horns;
To whose bright image nightly, by the moon,
Sidonian virgins paid their vows and songs;
In Sion also not unsung, where stood
Her temple on th' offensive mountain, built
By that uxorious king, whose heart, though large,
Beguiled by fair idolatresses, fell

To idols foul. Thammuz came next behind,
Whose annual wound in Lebanon allured
The Syrian damsels to lament his fate
In amorous ditties all a summer's day,
While smooth Adonis from his native rock
Ran purple to the sea, supposed with blood
Of Thammuz yearly wounded: the love-tale
Infected Sion's daughters with like heat,
Whose wanton passions in the sacred porch
Ezekiel saw, when, by the vision led,
His eye surveyed the dark idolatries
Of alienated Judah."
See Chapman's Theocritus.

Lo! these for many a rolling age had lain
In blank oblivion, with the vulgar train,
Had not their bard, the mighty Ceian, strung
His many-chorded harp, and sweetly sung,
In various tones, each high-resounding name,
And giv'n to long posterity their fame.

Verse can alone the steed with glory grace,Whose wreaths announce the triumph of the race!

Could Lycia's chiefs, or Cycnus' changing hues,
Or Ilion live with no recording muse?
Not e'en Ulysses, who through dangers ran
For ten long years, in all the haunts of man;
Who e'en descended to the depths of hell,
And fled unmangled from the Cyclop's cell;
Not he had lived, but sunk, oblivion's prey,
Had no kind poet pour'd the unfading ray.
Thus, too, Philætius had in silence past;
And, nameless, old Laertes breath'd his last;
And good Eumæus fed his herds in vain,
But for Ionia's life-inspiring strain.

Lo! while the spirit of the spendthrift heir
Wings the rich stores amass'd by brooding care,
While the dead miser's scattering treasures fly,
The Muse forbids the generous man to die.

FROM IDYL XVII.

PRAISES OF PTOLEMY PHILADELPHUS.

WITH Jove begin, ye Nine, and end with Jove,
Whene'er ye praise the greatest Gon above:
But if of noblest men the song ye cast,
Let Ptolemy be first, and midst, and last.
Heroes of old, from demigods that sprung,
Chose lofty poets who their actions sung:
Well skill'd, I tune to Ptolemy my reed;
Hymns are of gods above the honour'd meed.
To Ida, when the woodman winds his way,
Where verdant pines their towering tops dis-
play,

Doubtful he stands, with undetermin'd look,
Where first to deal the meditated stroke:

And where shall I commence? New themes

arise,

Deeds that exalt his glory to the skies.

If from his fathers we commence the plan,
Lagus, how great, how excellent a man! †
Who to no earthly potentate would yield
For wisdom at the board, or valour in the field:
Him with the gods Jove equals, and has given
A golden palace in the realms of heaven:
Near him sits Alexander, wise and great,
The fell destroyer of the Persian state.
Against them, thron'd in adamant, in view
Alcides, who the Cretan monster slew,
Reclines, and, as with gods the feast he shares,
Glories to meet his own descendant heirs,
From age and pain's impediments repriev'd,
And in the rank of deities receiv'd.

⚫ Simonides.

+Ptolemy Lagus, one of Alexander's captains, who, pire, had Egypt, Libya, and that part of Arabia which borders upon Egypt, allotted to his share.

upon that monarch's death, and the division of his em

For in his line are both these heroes class'd,
And both deriv'd from Hercules the last.
Thence, when the nectar'd bowl his love in-
spires,

And to the blooming Hebe he retires,
To this his bow and quiver he allots,
To that his iron club, distinct with knots;
Thus Jove's great son is by his offspring led
To silver-footed Hebe's rosy bed.

How Berenice shone! her parents' pride;
Virtue her aim, and wisdom was her guide:
Sure Venus with light touch her bosom prest,
Infusing in her soft ambrosial breast
Pure, constant love: hence faithful records tell,
No monarch ever lov'd his queen so well;
No queen with such undying passion burn'd,
For more than equal fondness she return'd.
Whene'er to love the chief his mind unbends,
To his son's care the kingdom he commends.
Unfaithful wives, dissatisfied at home,

Let their wild thoughts on joys forbidden roam :
Their births are known, yet, of a numerous race,
None shows the features of the father's face.
Venus, than all the goddesses more fair,
The lovely Berenice was thy care;

To thee 'twas owing, gentle, kind and good,
She past not Acheron's woe-working flood.
Thou caught'st her e'er she went where spectres
dwell,

Or Charon, the grim ferryman of hell;
Thine own high honour's privilege to share.
And in thy temple plac'd the royal fair,
Thence gentle love in mortals she inspires,
And soft solicitudes, and sweet desires.
The fair Deïpyle to Tydeus bare
Stern Diomed, the thunderbolt of war:
And Thetis, goddess of the azure wave,
To Peleus brought Achilles, bold and brave:
But Berenice nobler praise hath won,
And sea-girt Cos receiv'd thee soon as born,
Who bore great Ptolemy as great a son:
When first thine eyes beheld the radiant inorn.
For there thy mother to Lucina pray'd,
She came, and friendly to the genial bed,
Who sends, to those that suffer child-bed, aid.
A placid, sweet tranquillity she shed
O'er all her limbs; and thus serene and mild,
Like his lov'd sire, was born the lovely child.
Cos saw, and fondling in her arms the boy,
Thus spoke, transported, with the voice of joy;
"Quick rise to light, auspicious babe be born!
And me with equal dignity adorn,

As Phœbus Delos-on fam'd Triops' brow,
And on the neighbouring Dorian race bestow
Just honours, and as favourably smile,
As the god views with joy Rhenæa's fertile isle."
The Island spoke; and thrice the bird of Jove
His pinions clang'd, resounding from above;
Jove's omen thunder'd from his eagle's wings;
Jove loves and honours venerable kings.
But whom in infancy his care befriends,
Him power, and wealth, and happiness attends:
And various oceans roll at his command.
He rules, belov'd, unbounded tracts of land,
Unnumber'd nations view their happy plains,
Fresh fertiliz'd by Jove's prolific rains:

But none, like Egypt, can such plenty boast,
When genial Nile o'erflows the humid coast:-
Here, too, O Ptolemy! beneath thy sway
What cities glitter to the beams of day!
Lo! with thy statelier pomp no kingdom vies,
While round thee thrice ten thousand cities rise.
Struck by the terror of thy flashing sword,
Syria bow'd down, Arabia call'd thee lord;
Phoenicia trembled, and the Lybian plain,

FROM IDYL XVIII.

THE EPITHALAMIUM OF HELEN AND MENELAUS.

TWELVE Spartan virgins, noble, young, and fair,
With violet wreaths adorn'd their flowing hair;
And to the pompous palace did resort,
Where Menelaus kept his royal court.
There, hand in hand, a comely choir they led;
To sing a blessing to his nuptial bed,

main :

ers bespread,

Jove's beauteous daughter now his bride must be, And Jove himself was less a god than he.

For this their artful hands instruct the lute to sound,

flows,

And wealth beyond a monarch's grandeur glows.

Such gold-hair'd Ptolemy! whose easy port
Speaks the soft polish of the manner`d court;
And whose severer aspect, as he wields
The spear, dire-blazing, frowns in tented fields.
And though he guards, while other kingdoms

own

His conquering arms, the hereditary throne,
Yet in vast heaps no useless treasure stor'd
Lies, like the riches of an emmet's hoard;
To mighty kings his bounties he extends,
To states confederate, and illustrious friends.
No bard at Bacchus' festival appears,

Whose lyre has power to charm the ravish'd

ears,

But he bright honours and rewards imparts,
Due to his merits, equal to his arts:

And poets hence, for deathless song renown'd,
The generous fame of Ptolemy resound.

At what more glorious can the wealthy aim,
Than thus to purchase fair and lasting fame?
The great Atride this alone enjoy,

While all the wealth and spoil of plunder'd
Troy,

That scap'd the raging flame, of whelming wave,
Lies buried in oblivion's greedy grave.
Close trode great Ptolemy, at virtue's call,
His father's footsteps, but surpast them all.

• Ptolemy intended to engross the whole trade of the east and west to himself, and therefore fitted out two great fleets to protect his trading subjects; one of these he kept in the Red sea, the other in the Mediterranean: the latter was very numerous, and had several ships of an extraordinary size. By this means, the whole trade being fixed at Alexandria, that place became the chief mart of all the traffic that was carried on between the east and the west, and continued to be the greatest emporium in the world above seventeen hundred years, till another passage was found out by the Cape of Good Hope: but as the road to the Red sea lay across the deserts, where no water could be had, nor any convenience of towns or houses for lodging passengers, Ptolemy, to remedy both these evils, opened a canal along the great road, into which he conveyed the water of the Nile, and built on it houses at proper distances; so that passengers found every night convenient lodgings, and necessary refreshments for themselves, and their beasts of burden.

Their feet assist their hands, and justly beat the ground.

why,

Ere yet the stars are kindled in the sky,
Ere twilight shades, or evening dews are shed,
Why dost thou steal so soon away to bed?
Has Somnus brush'd thine eyelids with his rod,
Or do thy legs refuse to bear their load,
With flowing bowls of a more generous god?
If gentle slumber on thy temples creep,
(But, naughty man, thou dost not mean to sleep.)
Betake thee to thy bed, thou drowsy drone,
Sleep by thyself, and leave thy bride alone:
Go, leave her with her maiden mates to play
At sports more harmless till the break of day!
Give us this evening: thou hast morn and night,
And all the year before thee, for delight.
O happy youth! to thee, among the crowd
Of rival princes, Cupid sneez'd aloud;
And every lucky omen sent before,
To meet thee landing on the Spartan shore.
Of all our heroes thou canst boast alone,
That Jove, whene'er he thunders, calls thee son:
What virgin with thy Helen can compare,
So soft, so sweet, so balmy, and so fair?
A boy, like thee, would make a kingly line;
But oh, a girl like her must be divine.
Her equals we, in years, but not in face,
Twelve score viragos of the Spartan race,
While naked to Eurotas' banks we bend,
And there in manly exercise contend,
When she appears, are all eclips'd and lost,
And hide the beauties that we made our boast.
And as, when winter melts, when darkness flies,
And spring and noontide brighten all the skies,
So bloom'd the virgin Helen in our eyes;
So bloom'd she, beautiful above the rest,
Tall, slender, straight, with all the graces blest.
As pines the mountains, or as fields the corn,
Or as Thessalian steeds the race adorn,
So rosy-colour'd Helen charms the sight,
Our Sparta's grace, our glory and delight.
With her no nymph may in the loom contend;
No nymph, like her, the willing osier bend;
None with such raptures animate the lyre;
Whether Minerva the rapt strain inspire,
Or Dian, sporting with her virgin choir;
None can record their heavenly praise so well
As Helen, in whose eyes ten thousand Cupids

dwell.

0 fair, O graceful! yet with maids enroll'd, But whom to-morrow's sun a matron shall be

hold!

Yet ere to-morrow's sun shall show his head,
The dewy paths of meadows we will tread,
For crowns and chaplets to adorn thy head.
When all shall weep, and wish for thy return,
As bleating lambs their absent mother mourn.
Our noblest maids shall to thy name bequeath
The boughs of Lotos, form'd into a wreath.
This monument, thy maiden beauties' due,
High on a plane-tree shall be hung to view,
On the smooth rind the passenger shall see
Thy name engrav'd, and worship Helen's tree:
Balm, from a silver box distill'd around,

Shall all bedew the roots, and scent the sacred ground.

Hail bride, hail bridegroom, son-in-law to Jove! With fruitful joys Latona bless your love! Almighty Jove augment your wealthy store, Give much to you, and to his grandsons more! From generous loins a generous race will spring,— Each girl, like her, a queen; each boy, like you, a king."

FROM IDYL XXII.

THE BOXERS.

THE twins of Leda, child of Thestius, Twice and again we celebrate in song, The Spartan pair, stamped by Ægiochus, Castor and Pollux, arming with the thong His dreadful hands; both merciful as strong, Saviours of men on danger's extreme edge, And steeds tost in the battle's bloody throng, And star-defying ships on ruin's ledge, Swept with their crews by blasts into the cruel dredge.

The winds, where'er they list, the huge wave drive,

Dashing from prow or stern into the hold; Both sides, sail, tackle, yard, and mast they rive,

Snapping at random: from night's sudden fold Rushes a flood; hither and thither rolled, Broad ocean's heaving volumes roar and hiss, Smitten by blasts and the hail-volley cold: The lost ship and her crew your task it is, Bright pair! to rescue from the terrible abyss.

They think to die-but lo! a sudden lull
O' the winds; the clouds disperse; and the
hush'd sheen

Of the calmed ocean sparkles beautiful:
The bears and asses, with the stall between,
Foreshow a voyage safe and skies serene.
Blest brothers! who to mortals safety bring,
Both harpers, minstrels, knights, and warriors
keen:

Since both I hymn, with which immortal king Shall I commence my song? of Pollux first I'll sing.

The justling rocks, the dangerous Euxine's

mouth,

Her course at the Bebrycian shore, the youth Born of the gods from both her sides descended, And on the deep shore, from rude winds defended,

Their couches spread; and strook the seeds of fire

From the pyreion. Forthwith unattended Did Pollux, of the red-brown hue, retire With Castor, whose renown for horsemanship was higher.

On a high hill a forest did appear:

The brothers found there a perennial spring, Under a smooth rock, filled with water clear, With pebbles paved, which from below did

There lay at ease a bulky insolent,

Grim-looked: his ears by gauntlets scored and marred;

His vast chest, like a ball, was prominent;
His back was broad with flesh like iron hard,
Like anvil-wrought Colossus to regard;
And under either shoulder thews were seen
On his strong arms, like round stones which,
oft jarred

In the quick rush with many a bound between, A winter torrent rolls down through the cleft ravine.

A lion's hide suspended by the feet

Hung from his neck and o'er his shoulders fell: Him the prize-winner Pollux first did greet: "Hail, stranger! in these parts what people dwell?"

"The hail of utter stranger sounds not well, At least to me." "We're not malevolent, Nor sons of such, take heart." " You need not

tell

Me that-I in myself am confident." "You are a savage, quick to wrath and insolent."

"You see me as I am; upon your land

I do not walk." "Come thither, and return With hospitable gifts." "I've none at hand, Nor want I yours." "Pray, let me learn, Wilt let me drink from out this fountain urn?" "You'll know, if your thirst-hanging lips are dry."

"How may we coax you from your humour

stern?

With silver or what else?" "The combat try-"

"How, pray, with gauntlets, foot to foot and eye to eye?"

'In pugilistic fight, nor spare your skill." "Where is my gauntlet-armed antagonist ?" "At hand! he's here; you see him if you will, I, Amycus, the famous pugilist."