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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