And where his breast may drink the mountain-breeze, And where the fervour of the funny vale
May beat upon his brow, through devious paths Beckons his rapid courfer. Nor when ease, Cool eafe and welcome flumbers have becalm'd His eager bofom, does the queen of health Her pleafing care withold. His decent board She guards, prefiding; and the frugal powers With joy fedate leads in: and while the brown Ennæan dame with Pan presents her stores; While changing ftill, and comely in the change, Vertumnus and the Hours before him spread The garden's banquet; you to crown his feast, To crown his feast, O Naiads, you the fair Hygeia calls and from your fhelving feats, And groves of poplar, plenteous cups ye bring, To flake his veins; till foon a purer tide Flows down those loaded channels; washeth off The dregs of luxury, the lurking feeds
Of crude disease; and through the abodes of life Sends vigour, fends repose. Hail, Naiads: hail, Who give, to labour, health; to stooping age, The joys which youth had squander'd. Oft your urns Will I invoke; and, frequent in your praise, Abash the frantic Thyrfus with my song. For not eftrang'd from your benignant arts Is he, the God, to whofe myfterious shrine My youth was facred, and
Are due; the learned Pæon. Oft when all His cordial treasures he hath search'd in vain ; When herbs, and potent trees, and drops of balm Rich with the genial influence of the fun,
(To rouze dark fancy from her plaintive dreams, To brace the nervelefs arm, with food to win Sick appetite, or hush the unquiet breast Which pines with filent paffion) he in vain Hath prov'd; to your deep manfions he defcends. Your gates of humid rock, your dim arcades, He entereth; where impurpled veins of ore Gleam on the roof; where through the rigid mine Your trickling rills infinuate. There the God From your indulgent hands the streaming bowl Wafts to his pale-ey'd fuppliants; wafts the feeds Metallic and the elemental falts
Wash'd from the pregnant glebe.
Flies pain; flies inaufpicious care: and foon
The focial haunt or unfrequented shade
Hears Io, Io Pæan; as of old,
When Python fell. And, O propitious Nymphs, Oft as for hapless mortals I implore
Your falutary springs, thro' every urn
O fhed felected atoms, and with all
Your healing powers inform the recent wave. My lyre fhall pay your bounty. Nor difdain That humble tribute. Though a mortal hand Excite the frings to utterance, yet for themes
Not unregarded of cœleftial powers, I frame their language; and the Mufes deign To guide the pious tenour of my lay. The Mufes (facred by their gifts divine) In early days did to my wondering fenfe Their fecrets oft reveal: oft my rais'd ear In flumber felt their mufic: oft at noon Or hour of funfet, by fome lonely stream, In field or fhady grove, they taught me words. Of power from death and envy to preserve.
The good man's name. whence yet with grateful mind, And offerings unprofan'd by ruder eye,
My vows I fend, my homage, to the feats Of rocky Cirrha, where with you they dwell: Where you their chafte companions they admit Through all the hallow'd fcene: where oft intent, And leaning o'er Caftalia's moffy verge, They mark the cadence of your confluent urns, How tunefull, yielding gratefullest repose To their conforted measure: till again, With emulation all the founding choir, And bright Apollo, leader of the fong, Their voices through the liquid air exalt,
And sweep their lofty ftrings: those awful frings, That charm the mind of Gods: that fill the courts Of wide Olympus with oblivion sweet Of evils, with immortal rest from cares; Affuage the terrours of the throne of Jove;
And quench the formidable thunderbolt Of unrelenting fire. With flacken'd wings, While now the folemn concert breathes around, Incumbent o'er the fceptre of his lord
Sleeps the ftern eagle; by the number'd notes, Poffefs'd; and fatiate with the melting tone: Sovereign of birds. The furious God of war, His darts forgetting and the rapid wheels That bear him vengeful o'er the embattled plain, Relents, and fooths his own fierce heart to ease, Unwonted ease. The fire of Gods and men, In that great moment of divine delight,
Looks down on all that live; and whatsoe’er He loves not, o'er the peopled earth and o'er The interminated ocean, he beholds
Curs'd with abhorrence by his doom severe, And troubled at the found. Ye, Naiads, ye With ravish'd ears the melody attend Worthy of facred filence. But the flaves Of Bacchus with tempeftuous clamours ftrive To drown the heavenly ftrains; of highest Jove, Irreverent; and by mad prefumption fir'd Their own discordant raptures to advance With hostile emulation. Down they rush From Nyfa's vine-impurpled cliff, the dames Of Thrace, the Satyrs, and the unruly Fauns, With old Silenus, through the midnight gloom Toffing the torch impure, and high in air
The brandish'd Thyrfus, to the Phrygian pipe's Shrill voice, and to the clashing cymbals, mix'd With fhrieks and frantic uproar. May the Gods From every unpolluted ear avert
Their orgies! If within the feats of men, Within the feats of men, the walls, the gates Which Pallas rules, if haply there be found Who loves to mingle with the revel-band And hearken to their accents; who aspires From fuch inftructers to inform his breaft With verfe; let him, fit votarift, implore Their infpiration. He perchance the gifts Of young Lyæus, and the dread exploits, May fing in apteft numbers: he the fate Of fober Pentheus, he the Paphian rites, And naked Mars with Cytherea chain'd, And strong Alcides in the spinster's robe, May celebrate, applauded. But with you, O Naiads, far from that unhallow'd rout, Muft dwell the man whoe'er to praised themes Invokes the immortal Mufe. the immortal Mufe To your calm habitations, to the cave Corycian or the Delphic mount, will guide His footsteps; and with your unfullied ftreams His lips will bathe: whether the eternal lore Of Themis, or the majefty of Jove,
To mortals he reveal; or teach his lyre The unenvied guerdon of the patriot's toils,
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