kish with the salt of human tears;     Thou shoreless flood, which in thy ebb and flow Claspest the limits of mortality! An

ted one.     Vestal. Yet spare me!     Priest. Thou pleadst in vain —  thy destiny is fixed. Vestal. Mercy — oh! mercy; tho

iful, I cannot, dare not, will not, think of death!     Priest. It is thy doom! thy living grave is near. Thou hast despoil

nnot, dare not, will not, think of death!     Priest. It is thy doom! thy living grave is near. Thou hast despoiled the God

. Alas! I pity thee, and hate myself, That I can do no more: aye from thy sight Returning, for a season, heaven seems hell,

re: aye from thy sight Returning, for a season, heaven seems hell, So thy worn form pursues me night and day, Smiling repro

now; I care not.     Second Fury. Dost imagine We will but laugh into thy lidless eyes?     Pro. I weigh not what ye do, bu

the self-content of wisest men: That we will be dread thought beneath thy brain, And foul desire round thine astonished hea

brain, And foul desire round thine astonished heart, And blood within thy labyrinthine veins, Crawling like agony.     Pro.

s less painful. “But thou, oh! Hope, with eyes so fair,     What was thy delighted measure?     Still it whispered promise

habitants. Swift growth and wondrous grace, oh! heavenly Jove, Waited thy blooming years: inventive wit, And perfect judgme

aited thy blooming years: inventive wit, And perfect judgment crowned thy youthful act. Thou to the lesser gods hast well a

u to the lesser gods hast well assigned Their proper shares of power; thy own, great Jove, Boundless and universal. Each mo

f counsel. Hail! greatest son of Saturn, wise disposer Of every good; thy praise what man yet born Has sung? or who that ma

ses good. Then grant us, Gracious, Virtue and wealth, for both are of thy gift!” Prior. Juno. Juno, who was the dau

ars, Oh! wilt thou ne’er enable us to look Into the volume clasped at thy right hand? The past is known to us, and doth con

kings and sages,             Of wiser ages, Still live and gladden in thy genial rays!         “King of the tuneful lyre!

ngs upon a summer’s breath!         “Father of rosy day!     No more thy clouds of incense rise;     But waking flowers,  

bove; And as the locks of Phœbus are unshorn So shall perpetual green thy boughs adorn.” Ovid. However earnest Apollo mig

s within a reed, ‘To thee alone, oh! lake,’ she said, ‘I tell, And as thy queen, command thee to conceal, Beneath his locks

ourted by the Moon. ——————— “Oh! woodland Queen, What smoothest air, thy smoother forehead woos? Where dost thou listen to

smoother forehead woos? Where dost thou listen to the wide halloos Of thy departed nymphs? Through what dark tree Glimmers

wide halloos Of thy departed nymphs? Through what dark tree Glimmers thy crescent? Whatsoe’er it be ’Tis in the breath of

y — Sometimes I watch thee on from steep to steep, Timidly lighted by thy vestal torch, Till in some Latmian cave I see the

ian cave I see thee creep To catch the young Endymion asleep, Leaving thy splendour at the jagged porch! “Oh! thou art bea

oo late now for the old Ephesian vows, And not divine the crescent on thy brows: Yet call thee nothing but the mere, mild m

t simple boon In many a thoughtful verse, and anthem sweet, And bless thy dainty face whene’er we meet. “So let it be: bef

autiful Dian! and so whene’er I lie Trodden, thou wilt be gazing from thy hills. Blest be thy loving light, where’er it spi

whene’er I lie Trodden, thou wilt be gazing from thy hills. Blest be thy loving light, where’er it spills, And blessed thy

thy hills. Blest be thy loving light, where’er it spills, And blessed thy fair face, O mother mild! Still shine, the soul o

mother mild! Still shine, the soul of rivers as they run, Still lend thy lonely lamp, to lovers fond, And blend their plig

: Still smile at even on the bedded child, And close his eyelids with thy silver wand.” Hood. Bacchus. Insérer imag

“Great father Bacchus, to my song repair, For clustering grapes are thy peculiar care; For thee large bunches load the be

    “Cytherea! whom the favoured earth Of Cyprus claims, exulting in thy birth Bright queen! adorned with every winning gr

isle,     Forsake those loved retreats awhile, And to the temple bend thy flight, Where Glycera, the young, the fair,     I

mple bend thy flight, Where Glycera, the young, the fair,     Invokes thy presence high, While clouds of incense fill the a

incense fill the air,     And waft her suppliant sigh.     “Bring in thy train the vengeful boy,     And Graces (while the

r the soft ear Of goddess Cytheræa! Yet deign, white queen of beauty, thy fair eyes On our souls’ sacrifice.” Keats. Insé

wrung     By sweet enforcement and remembrance dear, And pardon that thy secrets should be sung,     Even into thine own s

l death-shadows, and glooms that overcast Our spirits, fanned away by thy light pinions. O sweetest essence! sweetest of al

lowing epigram, written under one of his statues. “Whoe’er thou art, thy master see, Who was, or is, — or is to be.” Volt

ght, In golden panoply superbly dight; And while the glittering spear thy hands essayed, Olympus trembled at the martial ma

was acquitted. “Mars! God of Armies! mid the ranks of war, Known by thy golden helm, and rushing car, Before whose lance,

exert eternal rage. From thee, O father! all these ills we bear, And thy fell daughter with the shield and spear. ‌Thou g

ernicious, wild, regardless of the right; All Heaven besides, reveres thy sovereign sway, Thy voice we hear, and thy behest

ll Heaven besides, reveres thy sovereign sway, Thy voice we hear, and thy behests obey: ’Tis hers to offend, and e’en offen

ests obey: ’Tis hers to offend, and e’en offending, share Thy breast, thy counsels, thy distinguished care: So boundless sh

s hers to offend, and e’en offending, share Thy breast, thy counsels, thy distinguished care: So boundless she, and thou so

skies, Thou most unjust, most odious in our eyes! Inhuman discord is thy dire delight, The waste of slaughter, and the rag

ght, The waste of slaughter, and the rage of fight. No bound, no law, thy fiery temper quells, And all thy mother in thy so

the rage of fight. No bound, no law, thy fiery temper quells, And all thy mother in thy soul rebels. In vain our threats, i

ght. No bound, no law, thy fiery temper quells, And all thy mother in thy soul rebels. In vain our threats, in vain our pow

ght, My bolts are not so feathery light.’ He took the shaft — and oh! thy look, Sweet Venus! when the shaft he took, He sig

s Eternally before Thee, the waves awful bow. Fast, stubborn rock; At thy feared trident, shrinking, doth unlock Its deep f

ns, hissing into foam. All mountain-rivers, lost, in the wide home Of thy capacious bosom, ever flow. Thou frownest, and ol

home Of thy capacious bosom, ever flow. Thou frownest, and old Æolus, thy foe, Skulks to his cavern, mid the gruff complain

uff complaint Of all his rebel tempests. Dark clouds faint When, from thy diadem, a silver gleam Slants over blue dominion.

ures which the stormy winds sent to his domain. “What hid’st thou in thy treasure-caves and cells? Thou hollow-sounding, a

hells, Bright things which gleam unrecked of, and in vain; Keep, keep thy riches, melancholy sea.                          

s, the burning gold, Won from ten thousand royal argosies; Sweep o’er thy spoils, thou wild and wrathful main;             

      Earth claims not these again! “Yet more, the depths have more! thy waves have rolled, Above the cities of a world go

, Sea-weed o’er-grown the halls of revelry. Dash o’er them, ocean! in thy scornful play!                                Man

llows and the depths have more! High hearts and brave are gathered to thy breast! They hear not now the booming waters roar

ming waters roar, The battle thunders will not break their rest; Keep thy red gold and gems, thou stormy grave,            

thless gloom, And the vain yearning woke midst festal song! Hold fast thy buried isles, thy towers o’erthrown,             

the vain yearning woke midst festal song! Hold fast thy buried isles, thy towers o’erthrown,                               

not thine own! “To thee the love of woman hath gone down, Dark flow thy tides o’er manhood’s noble head, O’er youth’s bri

rath: The listening woods thou draw’st along, The rivers stay to hear thy song,     And listen still as death. Tityos with

r thy song,     And listen still as death. Tityos with pleasure heard thy strain, And Ixion smiled amid his pain.” Horace.

ake the quiver, or the arrows seize And mix the toils of hunting with thy ease.’ Nor quivers she, nor arrows e’er would sei

orld on his shoulders so broad; Hear me, thou power, who, of yore, by thy words Couldst soften the hearts of the barbarous

ouls shall for ever exist, Who governest their shades by the power of thy spell, The favourite of Heaven, the favourite of

alling upon her, for the pleasure of hearing her voice in reply. “In thy cavern-hall,     Echo! art thou sleeping? By the

,     Then glad sounds are swelling, From each sister voice     Round thy rocky dwelling;         And their sweetness fills

Where my tender lambkins stray: Let each field and mountain high, Own thy genial presence nigh. Since with each returning y

igh, Own thy genial presence nigh. Since with each returning year, In thy presence, I appear, With the victim’s votive bloo

With the victim’s votive blood, Mighty monarch of the wood, And upon thy sacred shrine, Place the love inspiring wine, And

all free and bold, Tho’ feeds the wolf beside the fold, Knowing well thy potent arm Then protects from every harm. Lo, to

prayers. ‘O father Bacchus, I have sinned,’ he cried, ‘And foolishly thy gracious gift applied, Thy pity now, repenting, I

nd what a blush were thine, When, as the breath of every Grace Wafted thy feet along the studded sphere With a bright cup,

bright cup, for Jove himself to drink, Some star, that shone beneath thy tread,     Raising its amorous head To kiss those

those matchless feet,     And all heaven’s host of eyes.     Checked thy career so fleet: Entranced, but fearful all, Saw

nd drum delights to hear, When frenzy with her bloodshot eye Implores thy dreadful deity, Archangel! power of desolation!  

scending as thou art, Say, hath mortal invocation     Spells to touch thy stony heart? Then, sullen Winter, hear my prayer,

beacons strew the steep, And spectres walk along the deep. Milder yet thy snowy breezes     Pour on yonder tented shores, W

is thine thou wind!     Full many a voice is thine, From every scene thy wing o’ersweeps     Thou bear’st a sound and sign

strong thou art,     With a mastery all thine own, And the spirit is thy harp, O wind!     That gives the answering tone.

of proud banner folds,     A peal of stormy drums, — All these are in thy music met,     As when a leader comes.     “Thou

es brought back Each noise of waters that awoke     In the mystery of thy track; The chime of low, soft southern waves     

The harpings in the hall, The far off shout of multitudes,     Are in thy rise and fall.     “Thou art come from kingly to

ce of the sea.                           “O, poor Alcyone! What were thy feelings on the stormy strand, When thou saw’st C

es lamenting roar,                           O, poor Alcyone! But now thy stormy passion past, Thou upon the wave at last,

of its birth.                         I come with every star; Making thy streams, that on their noon-day track, Give but t

rt thou? They call thee ‘King of Terrors!’ drear dismay     Followeth thy footsteps, and around thy brow Hovers a thick imp

ing of Terrors!’ drear dismay     Followeth thy footsteps, and around thy brow Hovers a thick impenetrable cloud, Which, to

 And toll’d amid the triumph, a lone knell For his departure: Death —  thy gloomy power Can throw a sadness o’er the happies

r     Of pomp, and pride, and royalty’s array; And the next victim of thy reckless power     May be the beggar in his hut o

hildhood is thine, its unexpanded bloom,     Shrinks to decay beneath thy chilling breath; Gay Youth, thou witherest, with

to decay beneath thy chilling breath; Gay Youth, thou witherest, with thy touch of doom,     Stern Manhood shrinks beneath

witherest, with thy touch of doom,     Stern Manhood shrinks beneath thy grasp, oh, death, And fragile Age by worldly care

d,     ‘Rash mortal — would’st thou tempt the dangerous gloom, Launch thy frail bark upon the awful tide     That leaves th

tide     That leaves the lonely islands of the tomb; Darest thou, in thy vain impotence of pride Demand the knowledge to f

ates. “Yet one song more! one high and solemn strain, Ere, Phœbus! on thy temples ruined wall I hang the silent harp: one s

hine,                 And many a virtue comes                 To join thy happy train. Parent of every bliss, the busy han

oft will paint in brightest hues                 How calm, how clear thy torch                 Illumes the wintry hour. W

our                 Of tranquil happiness, Lured by the splendour of thy sacred torch, The beacon light of bliss, young Lo

                And leads his willing slaves                 To wear thy flowery chain.” Southey. “Hymen, late, his lov

ide     Thy glowing chariot, steeped in kindred gore; Or seek to hide thy foul infanticide     Where peace and mercy dwell

endship binds the generous and the good, Say, shall it hail thee from thy frantic way,     Unholy woman! with thy hands emb

Say, shall it hail thee from thy frantic way,     Unholy woman! with thy hands embrued. In thine own children’s gore? Oh!

thine own children’s gore? Oh! ere they bleed,     Let Nature’s voice thy ruthless heart appal! Pause at the bold, irrevoca

agger from Revenge! Say, hast thou, with kind protection,     Reared thy smiling race in vain; Fostering Nature’s fond aff

 Hymenean joys to prove? Spare, O sanguinary stranger,     Pledges of thy sacred love! Ask not Heaven’s commiseration,    

er thou hast done the deed; Mercy, pardon, expiation,     Perish when thy victims bleed” Euripides. Hercules. This

Theseus. And for that good deed, now I pity thee! Hercules. I want thy pity, I have slain my sons. Theseus. Thee, for t

Hercules. I want thy pity, I have slain my sons. Theseus. Thee, for thy grace, in other ills I mourn! Hercules. Whom has

repared, and fixed to die. Theseus. And deemest thou the gods regard thy threats? Hercules. The gods regard not me, nor I

ules. The gods regard not me, nor I the gods! Theseus. Forbear: lest thy proud words provoke worse ill. Hercules. I now a

full, and can contain no more. Theseus. What dost thou? Whither doth thy rage transport thee? Hercules. From whence I cam

ie thus rashly. Hercules. Now hear me whilst my arguments refute All thy monitions. Whilst I yet Hung on the breast, two h

For he the shallows of the stream had tried, ‘Swim thou, Alcides, all thy strength prepare, On yonder bank I’ll lodge thy n

im thou, Alcides, all thy strength prepare, On yonder bank I’ll lodge thy nuptial care.’ Th’ Aonian chief to Nessus trusts

alarms his ears, ‘Nessus, to thee I call,’ aloud he cries, — ‘Vain is thy trust in flight, be timely wise; Thou monster dou

set free, If thou no reverence owe my fame and me, Yet kindred should thy lawless lust deny, Think not perfidious wretch, f

d all his pains. “Then lifting both his hands aloft, he cries, ‘Glut thy revenge, dread empress of the skies; Sate with my

evenge, dread empress of the skies; Sate with my death the rancour of thy heart, Look down with pleasure and enjoy my smart

oy my smart; Or, if e’er pity moved a hostile breast For here I stand thy enemy profest;’ ‌“Meanwhile, whate’er was in the

prince addressed, Humbly implored a hospitable rest: If bold exploits thy admiration fire, (He said), I fancy, mine thou wi

,     To Perseus then: ‘Fly quickly, fly this coast, Nor falsely dare thy acts and race to boast.’     In vain the hero for

man advance,’ Stung with resentment for his ravished wife, Nor shall thy wings O Perseus, save thy life; Nor Jove himself,

resentment for his ravished wife, Nor shall thy wings O Perseus, save thy life; Nor Jove himself, tho’ we’ve been often tol

pouse? ’Twas thine to conquer by Minerva’s power, Favoured of heaven, thy mercy I implore, For life I sue, the rest to thee

rom the very hour I saw, I loved thee; That from the very moment that thy voice Rang in my ears, it entered in my heart, Th

and say Thou dost not hate me.     Hip. Some sudden frenzy hath upset thy brain — Thou knowest not what thou speakest.     

round me; Am I indeed Hippolytus, and art thou Phædra?     Phæ. I am thy Phædra! Theseus has my hand, But thou, Hippolytus

leaves The marriage bed, even were it but in thought: And thou above thy compeers raised afar, In that thy name is mated w

e it but in thought: And thou above thy compeers raised afar, In that thy name is mated with my father’s, Shouldst pray the

    Phæ. Thou canst not do it!     Hip. What if I did proclaim to him thy guilt? What if I said — father! thy wife, my moth

ip. What if I did proclaim to him thy guilt? What if I said — father! thy wife, my mother, Hath offered me the love due but

The. Now by my crown, this is most base effrontery, But ’tis in vain, thy mother hath told all, Hath told how, with an impi

vain, thy mother hath told all, Hath told how, with an impious love, thy heart Hath turned to her’s; how with an impure li

horror And transports of affection fiercely urged, That would pollute thy father’s marriage bed, Thou darest present to me

at would pollute thy father’s marriage bed, Thou darest present to me thy traitor brow, And vow thine innocence. Away from

r’s curse, And I must vindicate myself or die? Phædra, my mother, and thy wife, avowed In accents shameless as the wish she

her offered love, Implored her to remember that I stood Before her as thy son, and did entreat her To come back to the stra

e? Away, away, no more pollute my court; Wert thou not called my son, thy time were short.’” Racine. Banished thus from t

ing cries, ‘What fury thee possest? What frenzy, Orpheus, seized upon thy breast? Once more my eyes are seized with endless

                ‘I go, I go, Thou sun, thou golden sun, I go Far from thy light to dwell: Thou shalt not find my place belo

 —     Are they not written on my brow? And will that image ever quit thy sight?     No! deathless in thy faithful breast,

y brow? And will that image ever quit thy sight?     No! deathless in thy faithful breast,     There shall my memory keep  

air, And all are gifts, my love’s last gifts to thee!     Take me to thy warm heart once more!     Night falls, my pulse b

quicken, to restore — Joy is in every pang, — I go, I go!     I feel thy tears, I feel thy breath,     I meet thy fond loo

re — Joy is in every pang, — I go, I go!     I feel thy tears, I feel thy breath,     I meet thy fond look, still     Keen

ng, — I go, I go!     I feel thy tears, I feel thy breath,     I meet thy fond look, still     Keen is the strife of love a

e gods, and dare to touch me? Methinks there’s not a hand that grasps thy hell, But should run up like flax, all blazing fi

I Should call no more my brother, do thou spare The blood of Thebes: thy hate, thy rage, thy sword, All, all, on me let fa

call no more my brother, do thou spare The blood of Thebes: thy hate, thy rage, thy sword, All, all, on me let fall, on me

re my brother, do thou spare The blood of Thebes: thy hate, thy rage, thy sword, All, all, on me let fall, on me alone!’ To

bright drop, Shall bear the crown thou did’st usurp from me. And that thy soul may fly with more regret Know traitor that t

from me. And that thy soul may fly with more regret Know traitor that thy last blow comes from me.’” Racine. ‌He approac

words the widow sent her child. Aga. Oh Earth! I suffered less upon thy shores! (Aside) The bath that bubbled with my blo

truth! my child! my child! (Alone) Fell woman! ever false! false was thy last Denunciation, as thy bridal vow; And yet eve

! (Alone) Fell woman! ever false! false was thy last Denunciation, as thy bridal vow; And yet even that found faith with me

from flesh, where this hand rests, Severs not, as thou boasted’st in thy scoffs, Iphigenia’s love from Agamemnon: The wife

g crew, Or with my fleet their flying souls pursue? Rather with steel thy guilty breast invade, And take the fortune thou t

nd is it thus, ah! thus we meet,’ she cried My Pyramus, whence sprang thy cruel fate? My Pyramus; ah! speak, ere ’tis too l

e sprang thy cruel fate? My Pyramus; ah! speak, ere ’tis too late: I, thy own Thisbe; but one word implore, One word thy Th

ere ’tis too late: I, thy own Thisbe; but one word implore, One word thy Thisbe never asked before! Fate, though it conque

shade, Still let our loves from thee be understood, Still witness, in thy purple fruit our blood — She spoke, and in her bo

                Such is the tale they tell,                 Vain was thy beauty’s spell — Vain all the praise thy song cou

ll,                 Vain was thy beauty’s spell — Vain all the praise thy song could still inspire,                 Though

              Rung with less skilful hand, The borrowed love notes of thy echoing lyre.                 Fame, to thy breaki

The borrowed love notes of thy echoing lyre.                 Fame, to thy breaking heart,                 No comfort could

thy breaking heart,                 No comfort could impart, In vain thy brow the laurel wreath was wearing;              

ng;                 One grief and one alone                 Could bow thy bright head down, — Thou wert a woman, and wert l

Who found a more than common votary there Too much adoring; whatso’er thy birth, Thou wert a beautiful thought, and softly

odied forth Here did’st thou dwell, in this enchanted cover, Egeria! thy all heavenly bosom beating For the far footsteps

over, Egeria! thy all heavenly bosom beating For the far footsteps of thy mortal lover; The purple midnight veiled that mys

ell Haunted by holy love — the earliest oracle! And did’st thou not, thy breast to his replying, Blend a celestial with a

sérer image anonyme_heathen-mythology_1842_img264 “Look no longer for thy sister,” replied Apollo, “but follow the first co

,” replied Apollo, “but follow the first cow which presents itself to thy sight, and wherever that shall stop, build a city

to thy sight, and wherever that shall stop, build a city for thee and thy successors.” Cadmus obeyed and was guided in this

Trisrota pure? By that I call; its power confess: With growing gifts thy suppliants bless, Who with full sails in many a l

suppliants bless, Who with full sails in many a light-oared boat, On thy jasper bosom float; Nor frown, dread goddess, on

oured, heavenly fragrance breathe?         Hail power unknown! for at thy beck         Vales and groves their bosoms deck,

m dresses         With gems of dew, his musky tresses. I feel, I feel thy genial flame divine, And hallow thee and kiss thy

ses. I feel, I feel thy genial flame divine, And hallow thee and kiss thy shrine. “‘Knowest thou not me?’ celestial sounds

ing,         Locks in braids ethereal streaming, Thy scaly standards, thy mysterious arms, And all thy pains, and all thy c

ethereal streaming, Thy scaly standards, thy mysterious arms, And all thy pains, and all thy charms. ‘O thou for ages born

Thy scaly standards, thy mysterious arms, And all thy pains, and all thy charms. ‘O thou for ages born, yet ever young, F

all thy charms. ‘O thou for ages born, yet ever young, For ages may thy Brahmins’ lay be sung! And when thy glory spreads

orn, yet ever young, For ages may thy Brahmins’ lay be sung! And when thy glory spreads his emerald wings To waft thee high

wings To waft thee high above the tower of kings,         Whilst o’er thy throne the moon’s pale light         Pours her so

    The haunts of blessed or joyless lovers, Thy mildest influence to thy bard impart, To warm, but not consume his heart.”

on couples his name with that of Orpheus: — “But O, sad virgin, that thy power Might raise Musæus from his bower, Or bid t

in their sad reality, Were not as things that gods despise, What was thy pity’s recompense? A silent suffering, and intens

voice is echoless… “Thy godlike crime was to be kind, To render with thy precepts less The sum of human wretchedness, And

man with his own mind. But, baffled as thou wert from high, Still, in thy patient energy, In the endurance and repulse Of t

nd Huntress, chaste and fair, Now the sun is laid to sleep, Seated in thy silver chair. State in wonted manner keep: Hesper

d in thy silver chair. State in wonted manner keep: Hesperus entreats thy light, Goddess excellently bright. “Earth, let n

erus entreats thy light, Goddess excellently bright. “Earth, let not thy envious shade Dare itself to interpose; Cynthia’s

se: Bless us then with wished sight, Goddess excellently bright. Lay thy bow of pearl apart, And thy crystal-shining quive

d sight, Goddess excellently bright. Lay thy bow of pearl apart, And thy crystal-shining quiver; Give unto the flying hart

:86 The Medicean’s sly and servile grace, And the immortal beauty of thy face. One is the spirit of all short-lived love

Staring against; the dark, the blank of space Opens immeasurably, and thy face Wavers and glimmers there and is withdrawn.

ither bearest thou me, bull-god? What art thou? How dost thou fare on thy feet through the path of the sea-beasts, nor fear

presently receive thee, Crete that was mine own foster-mother, where thy bridal chamber shall be.”113 Fig. 35. Europa

ow thee as thou art! To hold thee on my heart as Juno does! ‘ Come in thy thunder— kill me with one fierce Divine embrace!

e gods their common wish. “We ask to be priests and guardians of this thy temple, and that one and the same hour may take u

plain of heaven With hyperborean echoes rings and roars, Remembering thy dread nuptials, a wise god, Golden and white in t

oars, Remembering thy dread nuptials, a wise god, Golden and white in thy new-carven shape, Hear me! and grant for these my

brought Their mother to the feast of her desire, Grant them, O Hera, thy best gift of gifts!’ Whereat the statue from its

st preserve the memory of this lesson continue to hang, both thou and thy descendants, to all future times.” Then, sprinkli

dwell in Olympus; thou ever lovest strife and wars and battles. Truly thy mother’s spirit is intolerable, unyielding, even

ger endure to see thee in anguish; mine offspring art thou, and to me thy mother bare thee. But wert thou born of any other

fly, dost thou match gods with gods in strife, with stormy daring, as thy great spirit moveth thee? Rememberest thou not ho

earnt how far better than thou I claim to be, that thus thou matchest thy might with mine. Thus, shalt thou satisfy thy mot

that thus thou matchest thy might with mine. Thus, shalt thou satisfy thy mother’s curses, who deviseth mischief against th

er on his shoulder . “Thou diest, Hyacinth,” spake Phœbus, “robbed of thy youth by me. Would that I could die for thee! But

nce that may not be, my lyre shall celebrate thee, my song shall tell thy fate, and thou shalt become a flower inscribed wi

time turning round and carrying the stars with it. Couldst thou keep thy course, while the sphere revolved beneath thee? T

Raising her pallid arms to heaven, “Cruel Latona,” said she, “satiate thy hard heart, while I follow to the grave my seven

y hard heart, while I follow to the grave my seven sons. Yet where is thy triumph? Bereaved as I am, I am still richer than

To smite them for a beauty such as thine? Deserv’d they death because thy grace appear’d In ever modest motion? ’twas thy g

’d they death because thy grace appear’d In ever modest motion? ’twas thy gift, The richest gift that youth from heaven rec

ins For me to offer yet. Thy quiver holds More than nine arrows: bend thy bow; aim here! I see, I see it glimmering through

Admetus,” said he, “take and keep this woman, my captive, till I come thy way again.” But Admetus would admit no woman into

. And, as eternal youth is mine, thou also shalt be always green, and thy leaf know no decay.” The laurel tree bowed its he

Adonis, he hath perished, the lovely Adonis! … Cease, Cytherea, from thy lamentations, to-day refrain from thy dirges. Tho

Adonis! … Cease, Cytherea, from thy lamentations, to-day refrain from thy dirges. Thou must again bewail him, again must we

all that thou beholdest is thine. We whose voices thou dost hear are thy servants. Retire, we pray thee, to thy chamber, r

hose voices thou dost hear are thy servants. Retire, we pray thee, to thy chamber, repose on thy bed of down, and when it m

ear are thy servants. Retire, we pray thee, to thy chamber, repose on thy bed of down, and when it may please thee repair t

ne, and say, ‘My mistress Venus entreats thee to send her a little of thy beauty, for in tending her sick son she hath lost

he touch of an arrow. “Again,” said he, “hast thou almost perished by thy curiosity. But now perform the task imposed upon

ers, wrung By sweet enforcement and remembrance dear, And pardon that thy secrets should be sung Even into thine own soft-c

d the fire; Yet even in these days so far retired From happy pieties, thy lucent fans, Fluttering among the faint Olympians

nt Olympians, I see, and sing, by my own eyes inspired. ‘So let me be thy choir, and make a moan Upon the midnight hours; T

me be thy choir, and make a moan Upon the midnight hours; Thy voice, thy lute, thy pipe, thy incense sweet From swinged ce

choir, and make a moan Upon the midnight hours; Thy voice, thy lute, thy pipe, thy incense sweet From swinged censer teemi

d make a moan Upon the midnight hours; Thy voice, thy lute, thy pipe, thy incense sweet From swinged censer teeming, Thy sh

thy pipe, thy incense sweet From swinged censer teeming, Thy shrine, thy grove, thy oracle, thy heat Of pale-mouthed proph

thy incense sweet From swinged censer teeming, Thy shrine, thy grove, thy oracle, thy heat Of pale-mouthed prophet dreaming

sweet From swinged censer teeming, Thy shrine, thy grove, thy oracle, thy heat Of pale-mouthed prophet dreaming. “Yes, I w

y oracle, thy heat Of pale-mouthed prophet dreaming. “Yes, I will be thy priest, and build a fane In some untrodden region

her cedar frame Are beautiful, indeed, but cold; Ah, touch them with thy flame! Oh, bid her move those lips of rose, Bid f

choose me, as I chose, This fairest of the fair! And then an altar in thy court I’ll offer, decked with gold; And there thy

nd then an altar in thy court I’ll offer, decked with gold; And there thy servants shall resort, Thy doves be bought and so

ot come to me, O dear companion of my new found life, For I am called thy lover and thy wife?… “My sweet,” she said, “as ye

O dear companion of my new found life, For I am called thy lover and thy wife?… “My sweet,” she said, “as yet I am not wis

nt and bloody. “O, hapless girl,” cried he, “I have been the cause of thy death; but I follow thee!” So saying, he drew his

e tomb contain us. And thou, tree, retain the marks of slaughter. Let thy berries still serve for memorials of our blood.”

ereupon the sailors, enraged by their lust of gain, exclaimed, “Spare thy prayers for us!” and, in spite of the resistance

Eryx playing with her boy Cupid, espied him, and said, “My son, take thy darts which subdue all, even Jove himself, and se

declined. He urged her. “Go in peace,” she replied, “and be happy in thy daughter; I have lost mine.” But their compassion

vercome with astonishment, she said, “Mother, thou hast been cruel in thy fondness; for I would have made thy son immortal.

“Mother, thou hast been cruel in thy fondness; for I would have made thy son immortal. Nevertheless, he shall be great and

ra dismissed him in displeasure, saying, “Go, ungrateful mortal, keep thy wife; but thou shalt one day be sorry that thou d

thee, if thou hast ever loved me, if I have ever deserved kindness at thy hands, my husband, grant me this last request; ma

s! for this gray shadow, once a man — So glorious in his beauty and thy choice, Who madest him thy chosen, that he seem

a man — So glorious in his beauty and thy choice, Who madest him thy chosen, that he seem’d To his great heart none

ng with a smile, Like wealthy men who care not how they give; But thy strong Hours indignant work’d their wills, And

Immortal age beside immortal youth, And all I was, in ashes. Can thy love, Thy beauty, make amends, tho’ even now,

beauty, make amends, tho’ even now, Close over us, the silver star, thy guide, Shines in those tremulous eyes that fill

remulous eyes that fill with tears To hear me? Let me go; take back thy gift: Why should a man desire in any way To v

here I was born. Once more the old mysterious glimmer steals From thy pure brows, and from thy shoulders pure, And bo

ore the old mysterious glimmer steals From thy pure brows, and from thy shoulders pure, And bosom beating with a heart

ey blind the stars, and the wild team Which love thee, yearning for thy yoke, arise, And shake the darkness from their

autiful In silence, then before thine answer given Departest, and thy tears are on my cheek. “Why wilt thou ever sca

, and thy tears are on my cheek. “Why wilt thou ever scare me with thy tears, And make me tremble lest a saying learnt

und thee; saw The dim curls kindle into sunny rings; Changed with thy mystic change, and felt my blood Glow with the

ood Glow with the glow that slowly crimson’d all Thy presence and thy portals, while I lay, Mouth, forehead, eyelids,

er in thine East: How can my nature longer mix with thine? Coldly thy rosy shadows bathe me, cold Are all thy lights,

er mix with thine? Coldly thy rosy shadows bathe me, cold Are all thy lights, and cold my wrinkled feet Upon thy glim

bathe me, cold Are all thy lights, and cold my wrinkled feet Upon thy glimmering thresholds, when the steam Floats up

d; Thou seest all things, thou wilt see my grave: Thou wilt renew thy beauty morn by morn; I earth in earth forget th

I earth in earth forget these empty courts, And thee returning on thy silver wheels.” § 115. Memnon, the son of Auror

art blind, Not I unmerciful; I can forgive, But have no skill to heal thy spirit’s eyes; Only the soul hath power o’er itse

h baskets. [Ant. d’Hercul.: Thompson’s Horace.] “Bear me, Pomona, to thy citron groves, To where the lemon and the piercin

these things, dearest child,” said the seeming old woman, “lay aside thy scorn and thy delays, and accept a lover. So may

dearest child,” said the seeming old woman, “lay aside thy scorn and thy delays, and accept a lover. So may neither the ve

y delays, and accept a lover. So may neither the vernal frosts blight thy young fruits, nor furious winds scatter thy bloss

the vernal frosts blight thy young fruits, nor furious winds scatter thy blossoms!” Fig. 71. Rustics with baskets. [An

other, and didst wish to pluck the hyacinths from the hill, and I was thy guide on the way. But to leave loving thee, when

e me not a finny thing, so would I have gone down to thee, and kissed thy hand, if thy lips thou would not suffer me to kis

nny thing, so would I have gone down to thee, and kissed thy hand, if thy lips thou would not suffer me to kiss! And I woul

iling with his ship, that I may see why it is so dear to thee to have thy dwelling in the deep. Come forth, Galatea, and fo

have forgotten, the homeward way!… “Oh, Cyclops, Cyclops, whither are thy wits wandering? Ah, that thou wouldst go, and wea

, whither are thy wits wandering? Ah, that thou wouldst go, and weave thy wicker-work, and gather broken boughs to carry to

t go, and weave thy wicker-work, and gather broken boughs to carry to thy lambs: in faith, if thou didst this, far wiser wo

yrene; “and at last, when he finds his arts of no avail, he will obey thy behest.” The nymph then sprinkled her son with ne

questioning of Aristæus, said: “Thou receivest the merited reward of thy deed, by which Eurydice met her death. To avenge

et her death. To avenge her, the nymphs have sent this destruction on thy bees. Their anger thou must appease. Four bulls s

slucent wave. In twisted braids of lilies knitting The loose train of thy amber-dropping hair; Listen for dear honor’s sake

g her soft, alluring locks, By all the nymphs that nightly dance Upon thy streams with wily glance; Rise, rise, and heave t

ightly dance Upon thy streams with wily glance; Rise, rise, and heave thy rosy head From thy coral-paven bed, And bridle in

hy streams with wily glance; Rise, rise, and heave thy rosy head From thy coral-paven bed, And bridle in thy headlong wave,

rise, and heave thy rosy head From thy coral-paven bed, And bridle in thy headlong wave, Till thou our summons answered hav

w, and with chivalric reverence, somewhat thus addressed her: — “For thy name’s sake and awe toward thy chaste head, O hol

, somewhat thus addressed her: — “For thy name’s sake and awe toward thy chaste head, O holiest Atalanta! no man dares Pra

Praise thee, though fairer than whom all men praise, And godlike for thy grace of hallowed hair And holy habit of thine ey

whirl it; yet we praise Gods, found because of thee adorable And for thy sake praiseworthiest from all men: Thee therefore

r-deep with plunging feet; but she Saying, “Speed it as I send it for thy sake, Goddess,” drew bow and loosed; the sudden s

shore, Still, after many years in distant lands, Still nourishing in thy bewilder’d brain That wild, unquench’d, deep-sunk

night, And the sweet, tranquil Thames, And moonshine, and the dew, To thy rack’d heart and brain Afford no calm? “Dost tho

again peruse, With hot cheeks and sear’d eyes, The too clear web and thy dumb sister’s shame? Dost thou once more assay Th

t, with baleful ballast of curses? Never, could never a plea forefend thy cruelly minded Counsel? Never a pity entreat thy

ever a plea forefend thy cruelly minded Counsel? Never a pity entreat thy bosom for shelter?… Hence, let never a maid confi

est thou homeward, yet, have borne me a damsel beholden, Fain to obey thy will, and to lave thy feet like a servant, Fain t

, have borne me a damsel beholden, Fain to obey thy will, and to lave thy feet like a servant, Fain to bedeck thy couch wit

to obey thy will, and to lave thy feet like a servant, Fain to bedeck thy couch with purple coverlet for thee. “But to the

, goddess of our city, grant thee victory over the Minotaur, hoist on thy return, when first the dear hills of Attica greet

otaur, hoist on thy return, when first the dear hills of Attica greet thy vision, white canvas to herald thy joy and mine,

rst the dear hills of Attica greet thy vision, white canvas to herald thy joy and mine, that mine eyes may see the propitio

below, Who traced these laws for all the sons of men; Nor did I deem thy edicts strong enough, That thou, a mortal man, sh

g against these. That I should die I knew (how should I not?), though thy decree Had never spoken. And before my time If I

in time, nor yet in eternity, shaken. “Thou that exaltest renown of thy name with the name of thy valor, Bulwark Emathian

ity, shaken. “Thou that exaltest renown of thy name with the name of thy valor, Bulwark Emathian, blest above sires in the

s — Hesperus, — cometh anon with star propitious the virgin, Speedeth thy soul to subdue — submerge it with love at the flo

the Trojan sand. “Yet bitter, oft-times bitter was the pang When of thy loss I thought, beloved Wife! On thee too fondly

ou Achaia’s host from darkness; clear the skies; Give day; and, since thy sovereign will is such, Destruction with it; but,

you have brought such dire distress. No! trust me; nought shall save thy carcass from the dogs. Though twenty ransoms and

ought shall save thy carcass from the dogs. Though twenty ransoms and thy weight in gold were offered, I should refuse it a

lives, he doubtless still rejoices, hoping that one day he shall see thy face again. But me no comfort cheers, whose brave

g inestimable ransom with me. Achilles! reverence the gods! recollect thy father ! for his sake show compassion to me!” The

e no mortal even in his prime of youth had dared the attempt. I grant thy request, for I am moved thereto by the manifest w

a bowl of wine, saying, “Cyclops, this is wine; taste and drink after thy meal of man’s flesh.” He took and drank it, and w

e Ulysses shouted out, “Cyclops, the gods have well requited thee for thy atrocious deeds. Know it is Ulysses to whom thou

d thee for thy atrocious deeds. Know it is Ulysses to whom thou owest thy shameful loss of sight.” The Cyclops, hearing thi

ched him with her wand, saying, “Hence, seek the stye and wallow with thy friends.” But he, instead of obeying, drew his sw

act, a voice from the ground cried out to him, “Spare me, Æneas; I am thy kinsman, Polydore, here murdered with many arrows

oracle of Apollo, and received an answer, ambiguous as usual, — “Seek thy ancient mother; there the race of Æneas shall dwe

. Lie down a while and take needful rest. I will stand at the helm in thy place.” Palinurus replied, “Tell me not of smooth

announced the approach of the deities. “Now,” said the Sibyl, “summon thy courage, for thou shalt need it.” She descended i

erils past? O my son, how have I trembled for thee, as I have watched thy ‘ course!” To which Æneas replied, “O father! thy

, as I have watched thy ‘ course!” To which Æneas replied, “O father! thy image was always before me to guide and guard me.

nce. When I reach the upper air, I will cause a temple to be built to thy honor, and will myself bring offerings.”“I am no

ssessor of the Latin realms, this is the promised land, here is to be thy home, here shall terminate the hostility of the h

thou faithfully persevere. There are friends not far distant. Prepare thy boats and row up my stream; I will lead thee to E

he Rutulians, and is prepared to become an ally of thine. Rise! offer thy vows to Juno, and deprecate her anger. When thou

er thy vows to Juno, and deprecate her anger. When thou hast achieved thy victory then think of me.” Æneas woke and paid im

fort. Under thee he shall learn the art of war, and strive to emulate thy great exploits.” Then the king ordered horses to

ove of adventure, replied, “Wouldst thou then, Nisus, refuse to share thy enterprise with me? And shall I let thee go into

ast more of life in prospect. Nor can I be the cause of such grief to thy mother, who has chosen to be here in the camp wit

in pity. “Hapless youth,” he said, “what can I do for thee worthy of thy praise? Keep those arms in which thou gloriest, a

praise? Keep those arms in which thou gloriest, and fear not but that thy body shall be restored to thy friends, and have d

ch thou gloriest, and fear not but that thy body shall be restored to thy friends, and have due funeral honors.” So saying

his name. “My name is Skrymir,” said the giant, “but I need not ask thy name, for I know that thou art the god Thor. But

t be more than thou appearest to be. What are the feats that thou and thy fellows deem yourselves skilled in, for no one is

thou couldst not untie it. After this thou gavest me three blows with thy mallet; the first, though the least, would have e

ould have ended my days had it fallen on me, but I slipped aside, and thy blows fell on the mountain, where thou wilt find

three glens, one of them remarkably deep. These are the dints made by thy mallet. I have made use of similar illusions in t

nd it was impossible for Thialfi to keep pace with that. When thou in thy turn didst attempt to empty the horn, thou didst

u comest to the shore thou wilt perceive how much the sea has sunk by thy draughts. Thou didst perform a feat no less wonde

l again defend myself by other illusions, so that thou wilt only lose thy labor and get no fame from the contest with me.”

show honor to Balder by throwing this twig at him, and I will direct thy arm toward the place where he stands.” Höder the

th with dawn To Hela’s kingdom, to ask Balder back; And they shall be thy guides who have the power.” He spake, and brushed

comforting her; — “Yes, and I fain would altogether ward Death from thy head, and with the gods in heaven Prolong thy lif

ogether ward Death from thy head, and with the gods in heaven Prolong thy life, though not by thee desired — But right bars

thy life, though not by thee desired — But right bars ties, not only thy desire. Yet dreary, Nanna, is the life they lead

he be, How stout soe’er or stately, one greater is than he. Gunther, thy noble brother, a higher place may claim, Of knigh

night, “To leave off idle talking and rule their tongues aright. Keep thy fair wife in order, I’ll do by mine the same. Suc

es of our strife and care, Float the green Fortunate Isles, Where all thy hero-spirits dwell and share Our martyrdom and to

nnyson, Princess, “Now lies the earth all Danaë to the stars, And all thy heart lies open unto me.” Translations of Simonid

ides’ Medea, beginning “Oh, haggard. queen! to Athens dost thou guide thy glowing chariot.” Translations of the Medea of Eu

suffering god. “Thy godlike crime was to be kind,     To render with thy precepts less     The sum of human wretchedness,

sunk since thou wert first revered, And varying rites have sanctified thy shrine. The dust is round thee of the race that r

s out his joy to thee, by all the names That thou dost bear — whether thy godhead claims Phœbus or Sol, or golden-hair’ d A

thlessness. “Then he turned upon the Raven,     ‘Wanton babbler! see thy fate! Messenger of mine no longer,     Go to Hade

bler! see thy fate! Messenger of mine no longer,     Go to Hades with thy prate! “‘Weary Pluto with thy tattle!     Hither

f mine no longer,     Go to Hades with thy prate! “‘Weary Pluto with thy tattle!     Hither, monster, come not back; And —

o with thy tattle!     Hither, monster, come not back; And — to match thy disposition —     Henceforth be thy plumage black

er, come not back; And — to match thy disposition —     Henceforth be thy plumage black!’” Saxe. Apollo Citharædus. V

oment, and promising to do her no harm. “Abate, fair fugitive, abate thy speed, Dismiss thy fears, and turn thy beauteous

g to do her no harm. “Abate, fair fugitive, abate thy speed, Dismiss thy fears, and turn thy beauteous head; With kind reg

“Abate, fair fugitive, abate thy speed, Dismiss thy fears, and turn thy beauteous head; With kind regard a panting lover

to the dark shadows of Hades. “At that elm-vista’s end I trace Dimly thy sad leave-taking face, Eurydice! Eurydice! The tr

    “Hail, gentle Dawn! mild blushing goddess, hail! Rejoiced I see thy purple mantle spread O’er half the skies; gems pa

ejoiced I see thy purple mantle spread O’er half the skies; gems pave thy radiant way, And orient pearls from every shrub d

Phœbus cries, ‘Aurora, come — too late Thou linger’st slumbering with thy wither’d mate Leave him, and to Hymettus’ top rep

his prayers of mingled awe and love, For like a God thou art, and on thy way Of glory sheddest with benignant ray,     Bea

ar! Queen of the sky, whose beams are seen afar! By night heaven owns thy sway, by day the grove, When, as chaste Dian, her

nt on her well-poised head. “Near the Delian olive-tree Latonia gave thy life to thee, That thou shouldst be for ever quee

ins For me to offer yet. Thy quiver holds More than nine arrows: bend thy bow; aim here! I see, I see it glimmering through

brightness that mine eyes have seen! As thou exceedest all things in thy shrine, So every tale does this sweet tale of thi

And is there glory from the heavens departed? —     O void unmark’d —  thy sisters of the sky.         Still hold their plac

untress, chaste and fair,     Now the Sun is laid to sleep; Seated in thy silver chair,     State in wonted manner keep: He

thy silver chair,     State in wonted manner keep: Hesperus entreats thy light, Goddess excellently bright. “Earth, let n

erus entreats thy light, Goddess excellently bright. “Earth, let not thy curious shade     Dare itself to interpose; Cynth

se; Bless us then with wished sight, Goddess excellently bright. Lay thy bow of pearl apart,     And thy crystal-shining q

ght, Goddess excellently bright. Lay thy bow of pearl apart,     And thy crystal-shining quiver; Give unto the flying hart

his goal, and pay her a visit in her lonely tower.     “‘Sweet! for thy love,’ he cried, ‘the sea I’d cleave, Though foam

e fire; Yet even in these days so far retir’d     From happy pieties, thy lucent fans,     Fluttering among the faint Olymp

int Olympians, I see, and sing, by my own eyes inspired. So let me be thy choir, and make a moan         Upon the midnight

hy choir, and make a moan         Upon the midnight hours; Thy voice, thy lute, thy pipe, thy incense sweet     From swinge

and make a moan         Upon the midnight hours; Thy voice, thy lute, thy pipe, thy incense sweet     From swinged censer t

moan         Upon the midnight hours; Thy voice, thy lute, thy pipe, thy incense sweet     From swinged censer teeming; Th

pipe, thy incense sweet     From swinged censer teeming; Thy shrine, thy grove, thy oracle, thy heat     Of pale-mouth’d p

incense sweet     From swinged censer teeming; Thy shrine, thy grove, thy oracle, thy heat     Of pale-mouth’d prophet drea

t     From swinged censer teeming; Thy shrine, thy grove, thy oracle, thy heat     Of pale-mouth’d prophet dreaming.” Keat

ing, That Helicon and th’ Ægean deeps dost hold. O thou earth-shaker; thy command, twofold The gods have sorted; making the

se graceful green hair circles all the earth. Bear a benign mind; and thy helpful hand Lend all, submitted to thy dread com

arth. Bear a benign mind; and thy helpful hand Lend all, submitted to thy dread command.” Homer ( Chapman’s tr.). Before

earth we tread: Thine are the beasts with fin and scales, That round thy chariot, as it sails, Plunging and tumbling, fast

s! Eternally before Thee the waves awful bow. Fast, stubborn rock, At thy fear’d trident shrinking, doth unlock Its deep fo

ons, hissing into foam. All mountain-rivers, lost in the wide home Of thy capacious bosom, ever flow. Thou frownest, and ol

home Of thy capacious bosom, ever flow. Thou frownest, and old Æolus thy foe Skulks to his cavern, ’mid the gruff complain

uff complaint Of all his rebel tempests. Dark clouds faint When, from thy diadem, a silver gleam Slants over blue dominion.

participants. “Bacchus, on thee they call, in hymns divine, And hang thy statues on the lofty pine: Hence plenty every lau

, sacred sire, with luscious clusters crown’d, Here all the riches of thy reign abound; Each field replete with blushing au

apter XIX: Hercules Hercules and the Serpents     “Unto this thy son it shall be given, With his broad heart to wi

child! What sufferings I endure! thou sleep’st the while, Inhaling in thy milky-breathing breast The balm of slumber.’” Si

pellbound, we survey The horrid coils which round thee play, And mark thy wild, enduring smile, Lit by no mortal fire the w

m the famous winged steed called Pegasus. ‘‘And the life drops from thy head On Libyan sands, by Perseus shed, Sprang a s

; ‘I warn thee fly Along the middle track: nor low, nor high; If low, thy plumes may flag with ocean’s spray; If high, the

lled to his daughter to return to her home and to her father. “‘Stay thy rash flight! and, from the distant main, — For oh

— turn again. Whither depart? the vessel backward steer; Thy friends, thy still fond father, wait thee here.’” Flaccus ( E

art blind, Not I unmerciful; I can forgive, But have no skill to heal thy spirit’s eyes.’                                 

with her for three hours’ time.           “‘Such grace hath crowned thy prayer, Laodamia! that at Jove’s command Thy husb

ars, Clung to his hand, and, thus beginning, said: —      ‘Too brave! thy valour yet will cause thy death. Thou hast no pit

d, thus beginning, said: —      ‘Too brave! thy valour yet will cause thy death. Thou hast no pity on thy tender child, Nor

‘Too brave! thy valour yet will cause thy death. Thou hast no pity on thy tender child, Nor me, unhappy one, who soon must

who soon must be Thy widow. All the Greeks will rush on thee To take thy life. A happier lot were mine, If I must lose the

thful spouse besides. In pity keep within the fortress here, Nor make thy child an orphan nor thy wife A widow.’      Then

pity keep within the fortress here, Nor make thy child an orphan nor thy wife A widow.’      Then answered Hector, great i

rn, Coward or brave, can shun his destiny. But go thou home, and tend thy labours there, —  The web, the distaff, —  and co

, and tend thy labours there, —  The web, the distaff, —  and command thy maids To speed the work. The cares of war pertain

into the fray.      “Send me at least into the war, And let me lead thy Myrmidons, that thus The Greeks may have some gle

thus The Greeks may have some gleam of hope. And give The armour from thy shoulders. I will wear Thy mail, and then the Tro

e immortals are offended, and himself The most, that thou shouldst in thy spite detain The corse of Hector at the beaked sh

te ram, how art thou now the last To leave the cave? It hath not been thy wont To let the sheep go first, but thou didst co

e to seek The stable; now thou art the last of all. Grievest thou for thy master, who has lost His eye, put out by a deceit

revealing at the same time his identity. “‘Ha! Cyclops! those whom m thy rocky cave Thou, in thy brutal fury, hast devoure

me his identity. “‘Ha! Cyclops! those whom m thy rocky cave Thou, in thy brutal fury, hast devoured, Were friends of one n

y, hast devoured, Were friends of one not unexpert in war; Amply have thy own guilty deeds returned Upon thee. Cruel one! w

thee. Cruel one! who didst not fear To eat the strangers sheltered by thy roof, Jove and the other gods avenge them thus! …

h thine own eyes what thou hast pined for long. Ulysses has returned; thy lord is here, Though late, and he has slain the a

rible storm. “‘O Æolus! since the Sire of all Has made the wind obey thy call         To raise or lay the foam, A race I h

nsporting Troy to Italy         And home gods reft of home: Lash thou thy winds, their ships submerge, Or toss them welteri

in their sad reality, Were not as things that gods despise; What was thy pity’s recompense? A silent suffering, and intens

sense of woe. “Thy godlike crime was to be kind;     To render with thy precepts less     The sum of human wretchedness,

his own mind.     And, baffled as thou wert from high,     Still, in thy patient energy In the endurance and repulse     O

rent and bloody. “O hapless girl,” said he, “I have been the cause of thy death! Thou, more worthy of life than I, hast fal

e tomb contain us. And thou, tree, retain the marks of slaughter. Let thy berries still serve for memorials of our blood.”

h candle, from the wicker hole Of some clay habitation, visit us With thy long levelled rule of streaming light, And thou s

on his shoulder. “Thou diest, Hyacinth,” so spoke Phœbus, “robbed of thy youth by me. Thine is the suffering, mine the cri

memory and in song. My lyre shall celebrate thee, my song shall tell thy fate, and thou shalt become a flower inscribed wi

her tears, saying, “Alas! unhappy one, and unhappy, if such there be, thy wife!” Borne by the waves, it came nearer. As she

er fruits, and as such is invoked by Thomson: — “Bear me, Pomona, to thy citron groves, To where the lemon and the piercin

to him and says, “My dear son, punish that contumacious beauty; give thy mother a revenge as sweet as her injuries are gre

id to her, “Why, poor unlucky girl, dost thou design to put an end to thy days in so dreadful a manner? and what cowardice

under this last danger who hast been so miraculously supported in all thy former?” Then the voice told her how by a certain

piter,’ I said, ‘if thou art indeed my father, and art not ashamed of thy offspring, give me back my people, or take me als

. “Sweet Echo, sweetest nymph, that liv’st unseen             Within thy aëry shell         By slow Meander’s margent gree

eth well; Canst thou not tell me of a gentle pair         That likest thy Narcissus are?             O, if thou have       

sion to Danaë: — “Now lies the earth all Danaë to the stars, And all thy heart lies open unto me.” Niobe. The fa

dost thou flow,     Old Tiber! through a marble wilderness? Rise with thy yellow waves, and mantle her distress.” Childe H

ide     Thy glowing chariot, steeped in kindred gore; Or seek to hide thy damned parricide     Where Peace and Justice dwel

or thine own crime. Return the life which twice I gave thee, first at thy birth, again when I snatched this brand from the

otto: — “Here didst thou dwell, in this enchanted cover, Egeria! all thy heavenly bosom beating For the far footsteps of t

over, Egeria! all thy heavenly bosom beating For the far footsteps of thy mortal lover; The purple midnight veiled that mys

est fell When thou wouldst build, no quarry sent its stores T’ enrich thy walls; but thou didst hew the floods And make thy

ts stores T’ enrich thy walls; but thou didst hew the floods And make thy marble of the glassy wave. In such a palace Arist

nt wave       In twisted braids of lilies knitting The loose train of thy amber-dropping hair;       Listen for dear honor’

with that of Orpheus in his Il Penseroso: — “But O, sad virgin, that thy power Might raise Musæus from his bower, Or bid t

eve my grief? Alas, I leave my friend behind me. Thou, who didst find thy Eurydice, and lose her again as soon as found; wh

but half the expected sum, saying, “Here is payment for my portion of thy performance; Castor and Pollux will doubtless com

on: —                                  “The sleeping kine Couched in thy brightness dream of fields divine. Innumerable mo

ns rise, and rise, Ambitious for the hallowing of thine eyes, And yet thy benediction passeth not One obscure hiding-place,

lace, one little spot Where pleasure may be sent; the nested wren Has thy fair face within its tranquil ken;” etc., etc.

I cannot tell you; they were in equal measure. O Venus, how great is thy power! this fierce giant, the terror of the woods

e Trojan sand. “Yet bitter, ofttimes bitter was the pang     When of thy loss I thought, beloved wife! On thee too fondly

ou Achaia’s host from darkness; clear the skies; Give day; and, since thy sovereign will is such, Destruction with it; but,

store; Give me to see and Ajax asks no more; If Greece must perish we thy will obey, But let us perish in the face of day.”

you have brought such dire distress. No! trust me, naught shall save thy carcass from the dogs. Though twenty ransoms and

aught shall save thy carcass from the dogs. Though twenty ransoms and thy weight in gold were offered, I would refuse it al

had destroyed so many of his sons. “Think, O Achilles,” he said, “of thy own father, full of days like me, and trembling o

at Achilles lives he still rejoices, hoping that one day he shall see thy face again. But no comfort cheers me, whose brave

g inestimable ransom with me. Achilles! reverence the gods! recollect thy father! for his sake show compassion to me!” Thes

e no mortal even in his prime of youth had dared the attempt. I grant thy request, moved thereto by the evident will of Jov

a bowl of wine, saying, “Cyclops, this is wine; taste and drink after thy meal of men’s flesh.” He took and drank it, and w

e Ulysses shouted out, “Cyclops, the gods have well requited thee for thy atrocious deeds. Know it is Ulysses to whom thou

d thee for thy atrocious deeds. Know it is Ulysses to whom thou owest thy shameful loss of sight.” The Cyclops, hearing thi

uched him with her wand, saying, “Hence, seek the sty and wallow with thy friends.” But he, instead of obeying, drew his sw

m we find in Elegant Extracts: — From the Latin. “Unhappy, Dido, was thy fate In first and second married state! One husba

o, was thy fate In first and second married state! One husband caused thy flight by dying, Thy death the other caused by fl

our strife and care,     Float the green ‘Fortunate Isles,’ Where all thy hero-spirits dwell and share     Our martyrdoms a

ence. When I reach the upper air I will cause a temple to be built to thy honor, and will myself bring offerings.” “I am no

oras, That souls of animals infuse themselves Into the trunks of men; thy currish spirit Governed a wolf; who hanged for hu

a wolf; who hanged for human slaughter Infused his soul in thee; for thy desires Are wolfish, bloody, starved and ravenous

zy tent (His conquered Sybaris) than I when first From the dark green thy yellow circles burst.” A war arose between the t

ocrates: — “Thyself shall, under some rosy bower,     Sit mute, with thy finger on thy lip; Like him, the boy, who born am

hyself shall, under some rosy bower,     Sit mute, with thy finger on thy lip; Like him, the boy, who born among     The fl

aired exact; A leaf succeeded and another leaf, And, all the elements thy puny growth Fostering propitious, thou becam’st a

o lived when thou wast such? O, couldst thou speak, As in Dodona once thy kindred trees Oracular, I would not curious ask T

es Oracular, I would not curious ask The future, best unknown, but at thy mouth Inquisitive, the less ambiguous past.” Te

their own hounds!         Be thou like the imperial basilisk, Killing thy foe with unapparent wounds!         Gaze on oppre

lms of worship, earth and air, Nor fix on fond abodes to circumscribe thy prayer.” III. 91. The religion of Zoroaster cont

g his name. “My name is Skrymir,” said the giant, “but I need not ask thy name, for I know that thou art the god Thor. But

t be more than thou appearest to be. What are the feats that thou and thy fellows deem yourselves skilled in, for no one is

thou couldst not untie it. After this thou gavest me three blows with thy mallet; the first, though the least, would have e

would have ended my days had it fallen on me, but I slipped aside and thy blows fell on the mountain, where thou wilt find

three glens, one of them remarkably deep. These are the dints made by thy mallet. I have made use of similar illusions in t

nd it was impossible for Thialfi to keep pace with that. When thou in thy turn didst attempt to empty the horn, thou didst

u comest to the shore thou wilt perceive how much the sea has sunk by thy draughts. Thou didst perform a feat no less wonde

l again defend myself by other illusions, so that thou wilt only lose thy labor and get no fame from the contest with me.”

show honor to Baldur by throwing this twig at him, and I will direct thy arm towards the place where he stands.” Hodur the

te and leave this sacred isle, Unholy bark, ere morning smile; For on thy deck, though dark it be,           A female form

ng airs, Enchanting shell! the sullen Cares And frantic Passions hear thy soft control.” 3. The goddess of innocence an

Psyche, “I can do nothing to disturb this innocent creature. If it be thy will to grieve her, choose another to do it; and

oncluded thus: “Gracious goddess! I perceive in the precincts of this thy sanctuary, heaps of wheat, which the liberal and

de one of these heaps.” “I grieve,” answered Ceres, “that I must deny thy petition. Willingly would I afford thee protectio

ony among themselves; I must therefore leave thee to be dealt with as thy persecutor wills. I pity, but I cannot relieve th

s. Juno heard her and replied. “I am sorry, unhappy Psyche, to reject thy prayer. I know that Venus is wrong, thus to affli

nance lovely; but sorrow withers the flower of beauty. My vexation at thy presumptuous conduct has robbed me of my colour.

e to Licinia. “This lily is fair, like Cyane; take it, it will become thy white bosom — but nay, not this for thee; I will

s, we may be allowed to serve at thine altar, to minister together in thy holy rites; and when this service shall be finish

ow no more, Shall yet be numbered ’mongst my best lov’d sons. No more thy hand shall stroke this beard; no more Embrace thy

lov’d sons. No more thy hand shall stroke this beard; no more Embrace thy mother’s father, nor thy voice Address me thus: ‘

and shall stroke this beard; no more Embrace thy mother’s father, nor thy voice Address me thus: ‘Who wrings thy heart With

brace thy mother’s father, nor thy voice Address me thus: ‘Who wrings thy heart With rude offence? Inform me, and my hand S

o offend thee by the least disrespect? If any should forget to honour thy reverend age, I will punish him.’” The remains of

ourite tree. My temples, my lute, and my quiver shall be adorned with thy leaves, and in ages to come, thou shalt encircle

. Fame shall crown their triumphant heads, with garlands plucked from thy branches. Time and age shall not wither thy folia

ith garlands plucked from thy branches. Time and age shall not wither thy foliage, but thy verdure shall be at once the emb

ked from thy branches. Time and age shall not wither thy foliage, but thy verdure shall be at once the emblem of glory and

er thee favour and protection. I have commanded this cloud to envelop thy path, and I can dispel it.” Io instantly recognis

ge motions of the heifer, and saw in the sands these words, “I am Io, thy daughter; Jupiter has transformed me to this shap

permit thyself to be thus disturbed by this young man’s suspicions of thy mother’s veracity; truly thou art my own, and tru

on heard Apollo, but he was not moved by his remonstrances. “Remember thy oath, my father,” replied the rash youth; “instru

in gladness and triumph from the glowing west, after having dispensed thy glory to all the nations of the earth.” Apollo, k

y provoked at their insolence, exclaimed, ‘Henceforward, be this lake thy habitation!’ Scarcely had she pronounced these wo

r they were foretold. Moses was a prophet when he foretold, “The Lord thy God will raise up unto thee a prophet from the mi

“The Lord thy God will raise up unto thee a prophet from the midst of thy brethren like unto me.” This prophet was our Sav

upiter, in Homer, answers a petitioner thus: Depart in peace, secure thy prayer is sped, Witness the sacred honours of our

s the will divine; The faithful, fixed, irrevocable, sign; This seals thy suit, and this fulfils thy vows. — He spoke, and

hful, fixed, irrevocable, sign; This seals thy suit, and this fulfils thy vows. — He spoke, and awful bends his sable brows

. Prometheus. Thy godlike crime was to be kind, To render with thy precepts less The sum of human wretchedness, And

hip. To Bacchus. Bacchus, on thee we call, in hymns divine, And hang thy statues on the lofty pine. Hence plenty ev’ry lau

e, sacred sire, with luscious clusters crowned, Let all the riches of thy reign abound; Each field replete, with blushing a

ild wood’s leafy tops, To drink the dew that morning drops, And chirp thy song with such a glee, That happiest kings may en

buds, for thee it grows. Nor yet art thou the peasant’s fear. To him thy friendly notes are dear; For thou art mild as mat

, when summer’s flowery hue Begins to paint the bloomy plain. We hear thy sweet prophetic strain, Thy sweet prophetic strai

rain we hear. And bless the notes and thee revere!     The muses love thy shrilly tone; Apollo calls thee all his own; ”Twa

all his own; ”Twas he who gave that voice to thee, ”Twas he who tunes thy minstrelsy. Unworn by age’s dim decline, The fade

vulgar frames away; With not a drop of blood to stain The current of thy purer vein; So blest an age is past by thee. Thou

of that age had never heard of the commandment, “Thou shalt not covet thy neighbour’s wife,” and often stole each other’s w

owed, And ill he pays the promise of a god, If yon proud monarch thus thy son defies, Obscures my glory and resumes my priz

on silent stranger?     Proud he moves with lowering eyes, Odin, mark thy stern avenger!     Slain the shaggy monster lies.

heaven are falling!     Earth has sunk in ocean’s bed! Glorious Sun! thy beams are shrouded.     Vapours dank around thee

mitted to take oaths upon solemn occasions. “Thou shalt fear the Lord thy God, and serve him, and shalt swear by his name.”

every vale and mountain    Echoes to immortal strains, Light is round thy stream and fountain,    Light on all thy plains.

rtal strains, Light is round thy stream and fountain,    Light on all thy plains. Never shall thy glory set; Thou shalt be

ound thy stream and fountain,    Light on all thy plains. Never shall thy glory set; Thou shalt be our beacon yet. James

e, daughter, to forsake    Thy fellow-maids that fatal morn, And give thy dark lord power to take    Thee living to his rea

ter soul that draweth thee    Hath left his shadow plain to see    On thy fair face, Persephone! Demeter sighs, but sure't

r cedar frame Are beautiful, indeed, but cold;    Ah, touch them with thy flame! Oh, bid her move those lips of rose,    Bi

oose me, as I chose    This fairest of the fair! And then an altar in thy court    I’ll offer, decked with gold; And there

then an altar in thy court    I’ll offer, decked with gold; And there thy servants shall resort,    Thy doves be bought and

mazes of the darksome cave    With prudent clue recovered. Welcome to thy country’s shore,    Thou king’s son girt with glo

alarms.    “Be safe with me across the main.” “Nay let me die ere to thy charms    I lend,” saith she, “an ear again. For

ith she, “an ear again. For what to me the sound of lyre,    And what thy loved sweet-voiced call, If amid blood and wallow

the leaping waters and gay young isles;     Ay, look, and he’ll smile thy gloom away. William C. Bryant . A Story of

all weathers,     Still seeming best, Upward or downward,     Motion thy rest; Full of a nature     Nothing can tame, Cha

him now to thee, and ask     The loved to take the loving. Part back thy mantle, fringed with green,     Broidered with le

leaf and blossom, And lay him tenderly to sleep     Dear Earth, upon thy bosom. Thy cheerful birds, thy liberal flowers,

enderly to sleep     Dear Earth, upon thy bosom. Thy cheerful birds, thy liberal flowers,     Thy woods and waters, only,

r sweet companionship,     And made his hours less lonely. Then part thy mantle, fringed with green,     Broidered with le

leaf and blossom, And lay him tenderly to sleep     Dear Earth, upon thy bosom. Phœbe Cary . A Sea God and a Wicked

thee move, Come, live with me and be my love. Thy silver dishes for thy meat, As precious as the gods do eat, Shall on an

ch day for thee and me. The shepherd swains shall dance and sing For thy delight each May morning: If these delights thy m

ll dance and sing For thy delight each May morning: If these delights thy mind may move, Then, live with me and be my love.

arus. “Now Dædalus, behold, by fate assigned, A task proportioned to thy mighty mind.” Pope. Da′gon [Dagon]. A god of t

uestions. “Sweet Echo, sweetest nymph, that liv’st unseen     Within thy airy shell. ………………………………………. Sweet queen of parle

Jove’s Mercury, and herald for a king.” “Be Mercury, set feathers to thy heels And fly, like thought, from them to me agai

, And died to kiss his shadow in the brook.” “Hadst thou Narcissus in thy face, to me Thou wouldst appear most ugly.” Shak

the stars, where his constellation is one of the most splendid. Ori′ thy ′ia [Orithyia]. A daughter of Erechtheus, whose lo

he head of Itys threw.” Pope. “And thou, melodious Philomel, Again thy plaintive story tell.” Sir Thomas Lyttleton. P

come away. ……………………………………… The sun, and Mira’s charming eyes,     At thy return more charming grow. With double glory they

strong defence proud tow’ring cities share, While roaring lions whirl thy mighty car! Oh! kindly second this auspicious sig

irl thy mighty car! Oh! kindly second this auspicious sign, And grace thy Phrygians with thy aid divine. Inspir’d by thee,

Oh! kindly second this auspicious sign, And grace thy Phrygians with thy aid divine. Inspir’d by thee, the combat I requir

orgies. Bacchus. Bacchus, on thee we call, in hymns divine, And hang thy statues on the lofty pine. Hence, plenty ev’ry la

e, sacred Sire, with luscious clusters crown’d, Let all the riches of thy reign abound; Each field replete, with blushing a

ame the cloud-born Centaurs in the fight, Hylæus, Pholus sunk beneath thy feet, And the grim bull whose rage dispeopled Cre

eath thy feet, And the grim bull whose rage dispeopled Crete. Beneath thy arm Nemea’s lion fell; Thy arm with terror fill’d

ell; Thy arm with terror fill’d the realms of hell. Nor Lerna’s fiend thy courage could confound, With all her hundred head

on silent stranger?     Proud he moves with low’ring eyes. Odin, mark thy stern avenger!     Slain the shaggy monster lies.

heav’n are falling!     Earth has sunk in ocean’s bed! Glorious Sun, thy beams are shrowded,     Vapours dark around thee

to man.” Horace. “Thy godlike crime was to be kind, To render with thy precepts less The sum of human misery than wretch

thee, fair goddess, we’ll a garland plait, Of ears of corn, t’ adorn thy temple gate.” Tibullus. “Let ev’ry swain adore

ild wood’s leafy tops, To drink the dew that morning drops, And chirp thy song with such a glee, That happiest kings may en

buds, for thee it grows. Nor yet art thou the peasant’s fear, To him thy friendly notes are dear; For thou art mild as mat

when summer’s flowery hue Begins to paint the blooming plain, We hear thy sweet prophetic strain; Thy sweet prophetic strai

c strain we hear, And bless the notes and thee revere. The muses love thy shrilly tone; Apollo calls thee all his own; ‘Twa

e all his own; ‘Twas he who gave that voice to thee, Tis he who tunes thy minstrelsy. Unworn by age’s dim decline, The fade

vulgar frames away; With not a drop of blood to stain The current of thy purer vein; So blest an age is past by thee, Thou

fill, Virgil. “Bacchus, on thee we call, in hymns divine, And hang thy statues on the lofty pine; Hence, plenty ev’ry la

e, sacred fire, with luscious clusters crown’d; Let all the riches of thy reign abound; Each field replete, with blushing a

hero! could subdue The cloud-born Centaurs, and the monster crew; Nor thy resistless arm the bull withstood; Nor he the roa

. The triple porter of the Stygian seat, And seiz’d with fear, forgot thy mangled meat. Th’ infernal waters trembled at thy

d with fear, forgot thy mangled meat. Th’ infernal waters trembled at thy sight; Not huge Typhœus, nor th’ unnumber’d snake

ve’s undoubted son! an added grace To heav’n, and the great author of thy race. Receive the grateful off’rings which we pay

Receive the grateful off’rings which we pay, And smile propitious on thy solemn day.” Virgil. “———— The Cleonian lion f

on silent stranger?     Proud he moves with low’ring eyes, Odin, mark thy stern avenger!     Slain the shaggy monster lies.

heav’n are falling!     Earth has sunk in ocean’s bed! Glorious Sun, thy beams are shrouded,     Vapours dark around thee

     “Of old Called the wild man from waste and wold, And, in his hut thy presence stealing, Roused each familiar household

shalt not plant thee a grove of trees near unto the altar of the Lord thy God.” Statues. The Greeks had no represent

ipus, he said: “Thou art the murderer of the old king, Laius, who was thy father, and thou art wedded to his widow, thine o

a bowl of wine, saying, “Cyclops, this is wine; taste and drink after thy meal of man’s flesh.” Delighted with the deliciou

uched him with her wand, saying, “Hence, seek the sty and wallow with thy friends.” Instead of obeying, he drew his sword a

lls, But would account it blessedness to die? If then I meet the doom thy laws assign, It nothing grieves me. Had I left my

With vocal sounds that emulate the lyre; And Thebes, such, Fate, are thy disastrous turns, Now prostrate o’er her pompous

hipers : And if thou do so, Pan beloved, may ne’er The Arcadian boys thy shoulders and thy sides Pelt with their squills w

hou do so, Pan beloved, may ne’er The Arcadian boys thy shoulders and thy sides Pelt with their squills when little meat is

is had ; But if thou otherwise incline, may pain Seize thee when all thy skin is torn with nails, And in hot nettles may t

: And Satyrs wailed and sable-cloaked Priaps ; And Pans sighed after thy sweet melody. It was fabled1219 that Priapos was