His sceptre stretching forth, the golden rod,
Hung round with hallowed garlands of his god,
Of all the host, of every princely chief,
But first of Atreus' sons he begged relief.
"Great Atreus' sons, and warlike Greeks, attend,
So may the immortal gods your cause befriend;
So may you Priam's lofty bulwarks burn,
And rich in gathered spoils to Greece return;
As for these gifts my daughter you bestow,
And reverence due to great Apollo show,
Jove's favourite offspring, terrible in war,
Who sends his shafts, unerring, from afar."
Throughout the host consenting murmurs rise
The priest to reverence, and give back the prize;
When the great king incensed, his silence broke
In words reproachful, and thus sternly spoke.
"Hence, dotard, from my sight. Nor ever more
Approach, I warn thee, this forbidden shore,
Lest thou stretch forth, my fury to restrain,
The wreaths and sceptre of thy god, in vain.
The captive maid I never will resign ;
Till age o'ertakes her, I have vowed her mine.
To distant Argos shall the fair be led :
She shall; to ply the loom, and grace my bed.
Be gone, ere evil intercept thy way.
Hence, on thy life: nor urge me by thy stay."
He ended frowning. Speechless, and dismayed,
The aged sire his stern command obeyed.
Silent he passed amid the deafening roar
Of tumbling billows, on the lonely shore:
Far from the camp he passed: then suppliant stood;
And thus the hoary priest invoked his god.
"Dread warrior with the silver bow, give ear. Patron of Chrysa and of Cilla, hear.
To thee the guard of Tenedos belongs;
Propitious Smintheus! oh! redress my wrongs.
If e'er within thy fane, with wreaths adorned,
The fat of bulls and well-fed goats I burned,
Oh! hear my prayer. Let Greece thy fury know,
And with thy shafts avenge thy servant's woe."
Apollo heard his injured suppliant's cry,
Down rushed the vengeful warrior from the sky;
Across his breast the glittering bow he flung,
And at his back the well-stored quiver hung:
His arrows rattled, as he urged his flight,
In clouds he flew, concealed from mortal sight;
Then took his stand the well-aimed shaft to throw,-
Fierce sprung the string, and twanged the silver bow.
The dogs and mules his first keen arrow slew;
Amid the ranks the next more fatal flew,
A deathful dart. The funeral piles around
For ever blazed on the devoted ground.
Nine days entire he vexed th' embattled host.
The tenth, Achilles through the winding coast
Summoned a council, by the queen's command
Who wields heaven's sceptre in her snowy hand:
She mourned her favourite Greeks, who now enclose
The hero, swiftly speaking as he rose.
"What now, O Atreus' son, remains in view, But o'er the deep our wanderings to renew, Doomed to destruction, while our wasted powers The sword and pestilence at once devours? Why haste we not some prophet's skill to prove, Or seek by dreams? for dreams descend from Jove. What moves Apollo's rage let him explain, What vow withheld, what hecatomb unslain And if the blood of lambs and goats can pay The price for guilt and turn this curse away?"
Thus he. And next the reverend Calchas rose,
Their guide to Ilion whom the Grecians chose;
The prince of augurs, whose enlightened eye
Could things past, present, and to come, descry:
Such wisdom Phoebus gave. He thus began,
His speech addressing to the godlike man.
"Me then command'st thou, loved of Jove, to show
What moves the god that bends the dreadful bow?
First plight thy faith thy ready help to lend,
By words to aid me, or by arms defend.
For I foresee his rage, whose ample sway
The Argian powers and sceptred chiefs obey.
The wrath of kings what subject can oppose?
Deep in their breasts the smothered vengeance glows,
Still watchful to destroy. Swear, valiant youth,
Swear, wilt thou guard me, if I speak the truth?"
To this Achilles swift replies: "Be bold.
Disclose what Phoebus tells thee uncontrolled.
By him who, listening to thy powerful prayer,
Reveals the secret, I devoutly swear,
That, while these eyes behold the light, no hand
Shall dare to wrong thee on this crowded strand;
Not Atreus' son, though now himself he boast
The king of men and sovereign of the host."
Then boldly he: "Nor does the god complain
Of vows withheld, or hecatombs unslain.
Chryseis to her awful sire refused,
The gifts rejected, and the priest abused,
Call down these judgments, and for more they call,
Just ready on th' exhausted camp to fall;
Till ransom-free the damsel is bestowed,
And hecatombs are sent to soothe the god,
To Chrysa sent. Perhaps Apollo's rage
The gifts may expiate and the priest assuage.'
He spoke and sate. When, with an angry frown,
The chief of kings upstarted from his throne.
Disdain and vengeance in his bosom rise,
Lour in his brows and sparkle in his eyes:
Full at the priest their fiery orbs he bent,
And all at once his fury found a vent.
Augur of ills, for never good to me
Did that most inauspicious voice decree:
For ever ready to denounce my woes,
When Greece is punished I am still the cause.
And now, when Phoebus spreads his plagues abroad,
And wastes our camp, 'tis I provoke the god,
Because my blooming captive I detain,
And the large ransom is produced in vain.
Fond of the maid, my queen, in beauty's pride,
Ne'er charmed me more a virgin and a bride;
Not Clytemnestra boasts a nobler grace,
A sweeter temper, or a lovelier face,
In works of female skill hath more command,
Or guides the needle with a nicer hand.
Yet she shall go: the fair our peace shall buy :
Better I suffer than my people die.
But mark me well. See instantly prepared
A full equivalent, a new reward.
Nor is it meet, while each enjoys his share,
Your chief shall lose his portion of the war:
In vain your chief; whilst the dear prize I boast,
Is wrested from me, and for ever lost."
To whom the swift pursuer quick replied:
"Oh! sunk in avarice and swollen with pride!
How shall the Greeks, though large of soul they be,
Collect their severed spoils, a heap for thee
To search anew, and cull the choicest share
Amid the mighty harvest of the war?
Then yield thy captive to the god resigned,
Assured a tenfold recompence to find,
When Jove's decree shall throw proud Ilion down,
And give to plunder the devoted town."
[This specimen must suffice. It will, we think, be sufficient to convince any one that Addison was not the translator.]
INAUGURATIO REGIS GULIELMI,1 1689.
TITYRUS. Hic inter corylos, umbrosa cacumina, densas, Nos cantare pares quoniam convenimus ambo, Dicamus Laudes heroum (ut, Mopse, solemus). Tempora transibunt sic læta canentibus, et nunc Dic age, quos nostro celebrari carmine sumes. MOPSUS. Tityre, nunc reddantur eis pia munera laudum, Otia qui dederint nobis placidamque quietem; Scilicet illorum resonent encomia sylvæ,
Qui dignabantur regni fulcire ruinas.
T. Tanta haud conveniunt humili tenuique cicutæ ;
Sed quoniam in magnis, dicunt, voluisse sat esse ;
Ipse tuas, Gulielme, canam laudesque Mariæ;
Nam, quos junxit amor, nemo sejungere debet.
M. Tunc mihi Phoebe fave, Musæque favete canenti,
Ne culpa ingenii illorum minuantur honores.
T. Ast ego nec Phoebum curo Phœbive sorores,
Carmina namque mihi cedit nunc lemma canenti.
M. Sint licet illustri proavorum stemmate clari,
Sunt magis ornati propriis virtutibus ambo.
T. Si rex est regit immanes qui pectoris æstus; Tum quot regna tenet Gulielmus! quotque Maria! M. Inclytus hic Mavors, sapiens hæc altera Pallas, Vulnerat ille armis, forma sed vulnerat illa.
T. Quando vias Pelagi tentarunt, mole superbum
Sustulit ad nubes mare se, fastuque tumebat.
M. Quando tellurem tetigerunt, Arcades omnes
Fani Deo Arcadiæ tenerum mactavimus agnum.
T. Tunc iterum totus resonat modulamine campus,
Miscent pactores iterum nymphæque choreas.
M. Lætus gramineis lusit tunc agnus in agris,
Floribus atque novis hædi insiluere petulci.
T. Quantus erat victor Gulielmus, quando popelli Vicit corda, hostes vicit, vicitque seipsum!
M. Participat sponsi virtutem et regna Maria,
Digna tribus regnis, et tanto digna marito.
T. Primus hic imperio, nulli est virtute secundus,
Sic sol, quam stellæ, majori luce refulget.
These verses occasioned Mr. Addison's being elected into Magdalen College.
M. Sed qualis stellas micat inter luna minores,
Talis, cum cincta est sociis, regina videtur.
T. At quæ nos illis nunc, Tityre, digna precemur,
Ludere qui pecori, pecorisque dedere magistris ?
M. Æternam inveniam, quam donavere, quietem!
T. Et sero cœlos exornet sidus utrumque!
Josephus Addison, Commensalis è Coll. Reg.
RETURN OF KING WILLIAM FROM IRELAND,
AFTER THE BATTLE OF THE BOYNE.1
CUM Domini impatiens excussit Ierna catenas,
Tota reuns in Martem, intestinosque labores,
Integri quicunque graves vidêre tumultus
(Constitit heu! tanti virtus) in vincula missi,
Exosam luctuque trahunt et carcere vitam.
Latè agri dumis horrescunt, aspera rura
Luxuriant segete spinarum, autumnus Iernæ
Nullus adest, cultorque deest quærentibus arvis.
Passim turba dolis instat peregrina secundis,
Nativamque premit lasciva potentia plebem ;
In lacrymas Gens omnis abit, manifestat ubique
Communes luctus, vultuque laborat in uno.
Præceps in tardas sic crevit Hibernia pœnas,
Et sic venturæ maturuit illa ruinæ :
Facta esset tanto nequaquam vindice digna,
Si minor horrendas Gulielmi senserat iras.
Anglia in ignavam dudum resoluta quietem,
Imperiis rediviva tuis, Nassove, veternum
Excutit, et longum sopitos suscitat ignes.
Te duce quas fecit strages! quæ prælia movit!
Dum fervet cædes, et campo sanguis inundat,
Assiduæ sudant peragendo pensa sorores,
Et stipata gemit sub pondere cymba Charontis.
Terga premens Cæsar fugientia corripit hostes
From the "Academiæ Oxoniensis Gratulatio pro exoptato serenissimi Regis Gulielmi ex Hibernia reditu. Oxoniæ, e Theatro Sheldoniano, Ann. Dom. 1690."
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