DAUGHTER of Jove, relentless Power, The proud are taught to taste of pain, With pangs unfelt before, unpitied and alone. When first thy sire to send on earth What sorrow was, thou bad'st her know, And from her own she learn'd to melt at others' woe. Scared at thy frown terrific, fly Self-pleasing Folly's idle brood, Wild Laughter, Noise, and thoughtless Joy, And leave us leisure to be good. Light they disperse, and with them go The summer friend, the flatt'ring foe; By vain Prosperity received, To her they vow their truth, and are again believed. Wisdom in sable garb array'd, Immersed in rapt'rous thought profound, And Melancholy, silent maid, With leaden eye, that loves the ground, Still on thy solemn steps attend: Warm Charity, the general friend, With Justice, to herself severe, And Pity, dropping soft the sadly-pleasing tear. Oh, gently on thy suppliant's head, Dread goddess, lay thy chasť'ning hand! Not in thy Gorgon terrors clad, Nor circled with the vengeful band, (As by the impious thou art seen) With thund'ring voice, and threať'ning mien, With screaming Horror's funeral cry, Despair, and fell Disease, and ghastly Poverty. Thy form benign, oh Goddess, wear, Thy milder influence impart, Thy philosophic train be there To soften, not to wound my heart. The generous spark extinct revive, Teach me to love and to forgive, Exact my own defects to scan, What others are to feel, and know myself a man. ODE V. THE PROGRESS OF POESY. PINDARIC. Φωνᾶντα συνετοῖσιν ἐς δὲ τὸ πᾶν ἑρμηνέων χατίζει. PINDAR, Olymp. II. I. I. AWAKE, Æolian lyre, awake, And give to rapture all thy trembling strings. Now the rich stream of music winds along, Deep, majestic, smooth, and strong, Through verdant vales, and Ceres' golden reign: Headlong, impetuous, see it pour : The rocks, and nodding groves, rebellow to the roar. I. 2. Oh! sovereign of the willing soul, Parent of sweet and solemn-breathing airs, And frantic Passions, hear thy soft control. On Thracia's hills the Lord of War Has curb'd the fury of his car, And dropp'd his thirsty lance at thy command. Of Jove, thy magic lulls the feather'd king The terror of his beak, and lightnings of his eye. I. 3. Thee the voice, the dance obey, Temper'd to thy warbled lay. O'er Idalia's velvet green The rosy-crownèd Loves are seen With antic Sport, and blue-eyed Pleasures, Now pursuing, now retreating, Now in circling troops they meet ; To brisk notes in cadence beating Glance their many twinkling feet. Slow melting strains their Queen's approach declare : Where'er she turns, the Graces homage pay. With arms sublime, that float upon the air, In gliding state she wins her easy way : O'er her warm cheek, and rising bosom, move The bloom of young Desire, and purple light of Love. II. I. Man's feeble race what ills await! Labour and Penury, the racks of Pain, And Death, sad refuge from the storms of Fate! The fond complaint, my song, disprove, And justify the laws of Jove. Say, has he giv'n in vain the heav'nly Muse? Night, and all her sickly dews, Her spectres wan, and birds of boding cry, He gives to range the dreary sky: Till down the eastern cliffs afar Hyperion's march they spy, and glittering shafts of war. II. 2. In climes beyond the solar road, Where shaggy forms o'er ice-built mountains roam, To cheer the shivering native's dull abode. Of Chili's boundless forests laid, She deigns to hear the savage youth repeat, In loose numbers wildly sweet, Their feather-cinctured chiefs, and dusky loves. Glory pursue, and generous Shame, Th' unconquerable Mind, and Freedom's holy flame. II. 3. Woods, that wave o'er Delphi's steep, Isles that crown th' Ægean deep, Fields, that cool Ilissus laves, Or where Mæander's amber waves How do your tuneful echoes languish, Inspiration breathed around; |