Is that beamy radiance melting?
Does that eye less bright appear?
Love in Pity’s bosom sheltering,
Wafts his arrows on a tear!
Translations from Horace[14].
ODE XV. BOOK I.
Written at Thirteen.
When o’er the seas the treach’rous shepherd bore
His lovely hostess, to the Dardan shore;
Lull’d was each wave, and hush’d each stormy breeze,
By Nereus soften’d to ingrateful ease;
That the dire fate to Priam’s race they bring,
Of mighty woes, the pitying god may sing.
“Ah! hapless Paris, in an evil day,
“Thou bear’st thy burthen from her home away.
“To break thy guilty ties, the Greeks conspire,
“And wrap thy father’s ancient realms in fire.10
“What labour trickles from each warlike face,
“Alas! what carnage dyes the Dardan race;
“Pallas prepares e’en now her flying car,
“The helm, the ægis, and desire of war!
“By guardian Venus’ soft assistance bold,
“In vain, you comb your flowing locks of gold;
“In vain, your finger sweeps th’ unwarlike string,
“And tender measures, loved by females, sing;
“In vain, you fly the Cretan lance; in vain,
“From Ajax swift, you scour your native plain;20
“Though harmless through the airy tide be sped
“The dart, so hateful to the nuptial bed,
“Yet still, though late, th’ adult’rous ringlets must
“Be steep’d in blood, and scatter’d in the dust.
“See stern Ulysses, terror of thy race;
“And Pylian Nestor’s venerable grace;
“Teucer, and Sthenelus, renown’d in war,
“Or skill’d to guide the coursers and the car.
“Ah! hapless Paris, dost thou also see,
“Where godlike Merion scours the plain for thee;30
“Where fierce Tydides, greater than his sire,
“Searches for thee, and burns with vengeful ire?
“As when some stag perceives, with fearful eyes,
“Across the vale the tawny wolf, and flies;
“So shalt thou fly! forgetful of thy fame;—
“Not thus thou promised to the Spartan dame.
“Achilles’ angry fleet may bring delay,
“But not less sure th’ inevitable day;
“The fate-allotted time will soon expire,
“And Troy shall sink beneath the Grecian fire.”40
ODE XVI. BOOK II.
Written at Fourteen.