Nor shall a mother fond, o'er brawls unlovely dishearten'd,
380 Lay her alone, or cease the delight of children awaiting.
Trail ye a long-drawn thread and run with destiny, spindles.
In such prelude old, such good-night ditty to Peleus,
Sang their deep divination, ineffable, holy, the Parcae.
Such as in ages past, upon houses godly descending,
385 Houses of heroes came, in mortal company present,
Gods high-throned in heaven, while yet was worship in honour.
Often a sovran Jove, in his own bright temple appearing,
Yearly, whene'er his day did rites ceremonial usher,
Gazed on an hundred slain, on strong bulls heavily falling.
390 Often on high Parnassus a roving Liber in hurried
Frenzy the Thyiads drave, their locks blown loosely, before him.
While all Delphi's city in eager jealousy trooping,
Blithely receiv'd their god on fuming festival altars.
Mavors often amidst encounter mortal of armies,
395 Streaming Triton's queen, or maid Ramnusian awful,
Stood in body before them, a fainting host to deliver.
Only when heinous sin earth's wholesome purity blasted,
When from covetous hearts fled justice sadly retreating,
Then did a brother his hands dye deep in blood of a brother,
400 Lightly the son forgat his parents' piteous ashes.
Lightly the son's young grave his father pray'd for, an unwed
Maiden, a step-dame fair in freer luxury clasping.
Then did mother unholy to son that knew not abase her,
Shamefully, fear'd not unholy the blessed dead to dishonour.
405 Human, inhuman alike, in wayward infamy blending,
Turned far from us away that righteous counsel of heaven.
Therefore proudly the Gods such sinful company view not,
Bear not day-light clear upon immortality breathing.
LXV.
Though, outworn with sorrow, with hours of torturous anguish,
Ortalus, I no more tarry the Muses among;
Though from a fancy deprest fair blooms of poesy budding
Rise not at all; such grief rocks me, uneasily stirr'd:
5 Coldly but even now mine own dear brother in ebbing
Lethe his ice-wan feet laveth, a shadowy ghost.
He whom Troy's deep bosom, a shore Rhoetean above him,
Rudely denies these eyes, heavily crushes in earth.
Ah! no more to address thee, or hear thy kindly replying,
10 Brother! O e'en than life round me delightfuller yet,
Ne'er to behold thee again! Still love shall fail not alone in
Fancy to muse death's dark elegy, closely to weep.
Closely as under boughs of dimmest shadow the pensive
Daulian ever moans Itys in agony slain.
15 Yet mid such desolation a verse I tender of ancient
Battiades, new-drest, Ortalus, wholly for you.
Lest to the roving winds these words all idly deliver'd,
Seem too soon from a frail memory fallen away.