« ՆախորդըՇարունակել »
While you my flock and rural pipe disdain," * 149 ] And treat with bitter scorn a faithful swain, ki se ti to Begin, my pipe, the sweet Mænalian strain.
When first I saw you by your mother's side, To where our apples grew I was your guide; Twelve summers since my birth had rollid around, -A And I could reach the branches from the ground. How did I gaze !—how perish!-ah how vain The fond bewitching hopes that sooth'd my pain? Begin, my pipe, the sweet Mænalian strain.
Too well I know thee, Love. From Scythian snows, Or Lybia's burning sands the mischief rose. Rocks adamantine nursed this foreign bané, This fell invader of the peaceful plain. Begin, my pipe, the sweet Mænalian strain.
Love taught the mother's* murdering hand to kill,
Now let the fearful lamb the wolf devour;
Let land no more the swelling waves divide;
LLA And cease, my pipe, the sweet Mænalian 'strain.
Medea. + This seems to be Virgil's meaning. The translator did not choose to preserve the conceit on the words puer and mater in his version; as this (in his opinion) would have rendered the passage obscure and unpleasing to an Eoglish reader.
Here Damon ceased. And now, yê tuneful Nine, Alphesiboeus' magic verse subjóin, To his reponsive song your aid we call; Our power extends not equally to all.
By powerful charms what prodigies are done! Charms draw pale Cynthia from her silver thronę; Charms burst the bloated snake, and Circe's* guests By mighty magic charms were changed to beasts.. Bring Daphnis home, bring Daphnis to my arms, i i O bring my long-lost love, my powerful charms,
Three woollen wreaths, and each of triple dye,
Haste, let three colours with three knots be join'd,
As this soft clay is harden'd by the flame,
Of you my
As when, to find her love, an heifer roami
These robes beneath the threshold here I leave,
faithless Daphnis I require.
These deadly poisons, and these magic weeds,
These ashes from the altar take with speed,
Lo, while I linger, with spontaneous fire The ashes redden, and the flames aspire! May this new prodigy auspicious prove! What fearful hopes my beating bosom move! Hark! does not Hylax bark ?--ye powers supreme, Can it be real, or do lovers dream He comes, my Daphnis comes ! forbear my charms; My love, my Daphnis flies to bless my longing arms.
mudo P PASTORAL IX.* . * *
Yjlu 1 3vol to bring
in Trbit vo Lycidas.
ID Go you to town, my friends this beaten way" Conducts us thither. In
» Di Toril
Moeris. IVIC I MJAht the fatal day, 'y' ft but The unexpected day, at last is come, When a rude alien drives us from our home. Hence, hence, resign usurper thus commands,
ye powers divine!
Lycidas. 'Twas said, Menalcas with his tuneful strains Had saved the grounds of all the neighbouring swains, From where the hill, that terminates the vale, In easy risings first begins to swell; Far as the blasted beech that mates the sky, And the clear stream that gently murmurs by,
* This and the first éclogue seems to have been written on the saine occasion. The time is a still evening. The landscape is described at the 97th line of this translation. On one side of the highway is an artificial arbour, where Lycidas invites Mæris to rest a little from the fatigue of his journey: and at a considerable distance appears a sepulchre by the way-side, where the ancient sepulchres were commonly erected.
The critics with one voice seem to condemn this eclogue as un. worthy of its author; I know not for what good reason. The many beautiful lines scattered through it would, one might think, be no weak recommendation. But it is by no means to be reckoned a loose collection of incoherent fragments; its principal parts are all strictly connected, and refer to a certain end, and its allusions and images are wholly suited to pastoral life. Its subject, though uncommon, is not improper; for what is more natural, than that two shepherds, whien occasionally mentioning thegood qualities of their absent friend, particularly his poetical ** talents, should repeat such fragments of his songs as they re... collected!
Moeris. Such was the voice of fame; but music's charms, Amid the dreadful clang of warlike arms, Avail po more than the Chaonian dove, When down the sky descends the bird of Jove. And had not the prophetic raven spoke His dire presages from the hollow oak, woj of joy o) And often warn'd me to avoid debate, di an bpobao) And with a patient mind submit to fate, Ne'er had thy Moris seen this fatal hour, And that melodious swain had been no more.
DOWith ex. b $97999x900 9111 101 Lycidas. !thie ile gbut a 1911 W
98 9901911 What horrid breast such impious thoughts could not
breed ! What barbarous hand could make Menalcas bleed
AbuA Could every tender Muse in him destroy,
10 it'l And from the shepherds ravish all their joy! For who but he the lovely nymphs could sing, Or paint the valleys with the purple spring? Who shade
the fountains from the glare of day ewT Who
Menalcas could compose the lay, h 176-bxH Which, as we journey'd to my love's abode, s ' , MOTY I softly sung to cheer the lonely road? • Tityrus, while I am absent, feed the flock,
11 mi 1 And, having fed, conduct them to the brook
( 1 )ir/ (The way is short, and I shall soon return), But shun the he-goat with the butting hom.'
ي ( آج)
Moeris. Or who could finish the imperfect lays Sung by Menalcás to his Varus' praise ? • If fortune yet shall spare the Mantuan swains, And save from plundering hands our peaceful plains,
* These lines, which Virgil has translated literally from The ocritus, may be supposed to be a fragment of the poem mentioned in the preceding, verses; or, what is more likely, to be spoken i by Lycidas to his servant; something similar to which may be seen Past. 5, V. 20, of this translation - The original is here rer markably explicit, even to a degree of affectation. This the translator has endeavoured to imitate.