ffPPU^IH;;: GIFT OF SEELEY W. MUDD and GEORGE I, COCHRAN MEYER ELSASSER DR. JOHN R. HAYNES WILLIAM L. HONNOLD JAMES R. MARTIN MRS. JOSEPH F. SARTOR! to the UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA SOUTHERN BRANCH j ji^isi^iijigSS^^ r JOHN FISKE "•^ts book is DUE on the last d UNIVERSITY of CALIFORNIA AT LOS ANGELES - LIBRARY COLLECTIONS FROM THE GREEK ANTHOLOGY. BY THE LATE Rev. ROBERT BLAND, and OTHERS. A NEW EDITION; COMFRIsrNG THE FRAGMENTS OF EARLY LYRIC POETRY, WITH SPECIMENS OF ALL THE POETS INCLUDED IN MELEAGER'S GARLAND. BY J. H. MERIVALE, Esq. F.S.A. HMISY MET ^YXH2 ETI TO HNEON. t t r LONDON: PRINTED FOR LONGMAN, REES, ORME, BROWN, GREEN, AND LONGMAN; AND JOHN MURRAY, ALBEMARLE STREET. 1833. 4098 r t « < « < 1 » c < c • • •• • • • • • .' • • •« • • • • • « ; • • « • • • < rixlXTED BV KICHAKD TAYLOR, KED MON COURT, FLEET STIIEEX. ^ ^ %J V- ?A A fc 5 ADVERTISEMENT. In giving to the world a new series of Trans- lations grounded on a work published many years ago, to which I was a principal contri- butor, in partnership with nriy lamented friend, the late Rev. Robert Bland =*, it will not perhaps be regarded as altogether superfluous to prefix a short notice relative to the former publication. v.» * Ttie Rev. Robert Bland, -vvho was also author of " Edvvy C7 and Elgiva" and "Sir Everard," and of "The Four Slaves of ,_l Cythera," besides other poetical works, died, curate of Kenil- worth, in 1825, when little more than forty years old, leaving _ a widow and several children to mourn his irreparable loss a M circumstance which I may be allowed to mention, as affording .^ a motive to the present publication, in the hope of its proving a &. source of profit, however inconsiderable, intended to be applied exclusively in aid of the eldest son on his approaching removal to College from the Charter House. That, among other attain- ments of a more solid nature, my young friend inherits at least a j^ portion of his father's talents in the art of versification, will, I trust, be made evident from a few pieces in the last division of the present volume, to which the signature R. B. is attached. O a 2 IV ADVERTISEMENT. The design of exhibiting in an English version some of the most beautiful, or otherwise remark- able, of the pieces ascribed to the Minor Poets of Greece, more especially the writers of the Anthology, originated at a very early period with my deceased friend. He commenced the execution of his plan by the publication of two or three papers in the Monthly Magazine, be- ginning in March, 1805; and these became subsequently the groundwork of a Preface, re- printed without alteration in the present volume. The series thus commenced was continued at intervals during the remainder of the year 1805 and part of 1806, under the title of " Epigrams, Fragments, and Fugitive Pieces, from the Greek," to which was affixed the signature "Narva;" and in the course of the last-mentioned year, the greater part of those contributions, with some additions, were collected together and published in a small octavo volume, entitled, "Translations, chiefly from the Greek Anthology ; with Tales and Miscellaneous Poems," (Phillips, 1806.) The arrangement of Brunck and Jacobs, accord- ing to the names of authors, was here followed, with a short appendix of " Fragments from the ADVERTISEMENT. Comic Poets," and with notes following the translation. I was myself a contributor to this volume, in about equal partnership ; and we enjoyed the valuable accession of three pieces (The Complaint of Danae, and Two Versions of the Hymn to Harmodius,) from the pen of the present Lord Chief Justice Denman, and of a few from that of our mutual friend the Rev. Francis Hodffson, which in the later edition were distin- guished by his initial. Of the success of the small volume thus ushered into the world, it does not become me to say more than that it received from Lord Byron, in his " English Bards and Scotch Reviewers," first published not long after it made its appearance, the compliment of a few lines, beginning, " And yc, associate Bards," &c. Between the time of this first publication and that of the second, the joint authors, besides having been emboldened by the recommendation of the noble poet, separately, on various occasions, to encounter the risk of original composition, were prevented by other circumstances, arising out of occupations and engagements of the most vi ADVERTISEMENT. foreign nature, from bestowing much thought on the subject of repubhcation. In the mean time, however, the portfolios of each had received large additions from the same rich storehouse of the Anthology, as well as from other classical sources, and each had continued occasionally to contribute to the periodicals of the day — first to the Monthly Magazine (as before) , and after- wards to Dr. Aikin's Athenaeum — some of the fruits of their respective gleanings. I may here be allowed to mention, with satisfaction, that this example was thought worthy of imitation by so distinguished and elegant a scholar as Dr. Haygarth, with some of whose specimens, as printed in the last-named classical and useful, though short-lived, miscellany, T have not scru- pled to enrich the present volume. It was not till 1813, that my friend and my- self jointly resolved on the publication of a new Work, which was to contain the entire substance of the former, together with such additions as each of us had since made ; and the result of this resolution was the production of the volume entitled " Collections from the Greek Anthology, and from the Pastoral, Elegiac, and Dramatic ADVERTISEMENT. Vll Poets of Greece, by the Rev. Robert Bland and others," (Murray, 1813.) This new Work, be- sides the insertion of the very considerable ad- ditions already spoken of, was constructed on the principle of an entirely new arrangement ; being divided into distinct heads or subjects — the Amatory — the Convivial — the Moral — the Sepulchral — the Descriptive — the Dedicatory — and the Humorous, or Satirical — together with a pretty copious infusion, in the midst of one of these departments, of irrelevant matter, consisting of metrical versions of passages from the Grecian drama — each division being followed by notes, to the extent in bulk of nearly half the volume, and containing a variety of illustrations both in prose and in verse. The defects of such an arrangement were too glaring to escape the just censure of even the most indulgent critics, and I have not ceased, during the period of twenty years which have now elapsed since its appearance, to enter- tain the desire and intention, should circum- stances ever permit, of giving to the world a new edition, freed from the most striking blemishes as well as superfluities of the former, besides ex- Vlll ADVERTISEMENT. hibiting a more correct and classical represen- tation of the original Anthology, by a more abundant infusion of the best specimens, and by returning to our early plan of assigning each to its several author, and placing the authors them- selves in chronological order of succession. This design even acquired strength from a circum- stance which might be supposed to have been ra- ther calculated to check it, — the premature death of my early associate — by exciting the wish of doing honour to his memory, and at the same time (if possible) of deriving benefit to his chil- dren from the profits of a new undertaking. A constant succession of other pursuits and engagements occasioned the postponement, until the present moment, of the accomplishment of this long-cherished intention ; and, without fur- ther reflection on the past, it now remains for me to state shortly in what points the present publication will be found principally to diff^er from the two that preceded it. In the first place, it will be obvious that the present volume, although in itself complete, as containing specimens of all the poets whom it is its professed design to illustrate, comprises, ne- ADVERTISEMENT. IX vertheless, but an inferior portion either of the poems printed in the Work entitled " Bland's Collections," or of the authors contained in that far larger storehouse of original poetry generally known under the appellation of "The Greek Anthology." The literary history of that re- markable compilation, and of its various succes- sive collectors, has been already sufficiently de- tailed by Mr. Bland in his Preface here re- printed ; and from this it will be seen, without going into unnecessary repetition, that the por- tion which may be properly called Meleager's, though the smallest in extent, is far the most valuable, as exhibiting the productions of the better ages ; while the remainder, being spread over the whole extended period of Grecian de- generacy, from the age of Augustus to the fall of the Constantinopolitan Empire, must be regard- ed as comparatively of low estimation in the scale of classical excellence, although far from deficient in the refinements of poetical expression and sentiment. At the same time, all those specimens of the Gnomic, Elegiac, and Dramatic fragments of antiquity which are contained in our former volumes, although included by Brunck in his Analecta, formed no part of either of the a 5 X ADVERTISKMENT. Anthologies, properly so denominated. These are now, therefore, reserved to constitute an appendix to a second volume, should I receive sufficient encouragement to enter on such an undertaking. In using this hypothetical expression, I beg, however, to be considered as free from the ap- prehension expressed by my late colleague, of being numbered among those who injure the cause they espouse "by giving dignity to trifles." On the contrary, I am well convinced that no genuine scholar will ever regard the bulk of the poems which constitute what is commonly known as the Greek Anthology in a point of view so disparaging, or refuse to admit that it forms an essential portion of what remains to us of Grecian literature. Enough, has been said to explain in what con- sists the principal difference above referred to ; and, by comparison with the edition of 1813, it will be found that more than three fourths of the contents of the present are additions to the former Work, and that, even as to those which are republished, so much of correction and amendment has been freely admitted as to render them in many instances new versions of the ori- ADVERTISEMENT. M ginal ; except indeed with respect to Mr. Bland's translations, which I have seldom thought my- self at liberty to alter in any essential matter. His portion of the Work is distinguished, as in the former publication, by the initial B. ; while the letter H. still continues to denote the con- tributions of Mr. Hodgson, and those marked C. M. belong to my son, Mr. Charles Merivale, of St. John's College, Cambridge, whom I am proud to name on the present occasion as having afforded me most material assistance in the arrangement of the Work*. * I have omitted, from not feeling myself sufficiently autho- rized, to insert the names of other contributors, whose initials will be found interspersed through the work. But I cannot suffer this motive of delicacy to extend so far as to restrain me from naming those to whom I am more particularly indebted for much valuable advice and suggestion as to the conduct of the Work, — Henry Nelson Coleridge, Esq., author of one of the versions of the 47th Epigram of Callimachus ; and Benjamin Keen, Esq., the contributor of several from Meleager and others, which will be discovered by the initials severally affixed to them. I must be also allowed to embrace the present opportunity of expressing my acknowledgments to Mr. John Edward Taylor, of the printing establishment of Mr. Richard Taylor, for the able critical assistance he has rendered me in many parts of the Work, no less than for his zealous attention to the office of typographical correction and superintendence through the whole of it. Xll ADVERTISEMENT. It remains merely to notice that the Greek text which I have uniformly followed is that of Brunck and Jacobs, except as to the fragments of Lyric Poetry which are not to be found in their respec- tive collections. I should have willingly sub- joined the originals for the greater satisfaction of critical readers, but found it would swell the Work both in respect of size and expense far be- yond my wishes, and have therefore contented myself with adding double references to the Pla- nudean Anthology printed by Henry Stephens, and to the celebrated Vatican MS. now rendered accessible to all scholars by means of the Tran- script recently edited*. On the merits or de- merits of the several versions, I must leave it to others to pronounce judgment ; but, at the risk even of repeating some of what has been already m-ged by Mr. Bland in his Preface, T must be allowed to conclude with a few remarks as to the nature of the task which it has been our aim to accomplish. The reader who is acquainted with the original * " Anthologia Grseca, ad fidem Codicis olim Palatini nunc Parisini, ex Apograplio Gothano edita." A Jacobs. 4 torn. Lips. 1813. ADVERTISEMENT. Xlll will at once perceive that, as the compilation has been the work of several hands, so no uniform rules of translation have been adopted. Many of the Epigrams in the Anthology owe their whole charm to their perfect unity of sentiment and simphcity of expression. Here, therefore, it be- comes the duty of the translator to preserve the charm by rendering his version, at w^hatever dis- advantage, as literal as he can. Others, again, contain more expanded thoughts, and more va- rious imagery ; and here w^ill be found to have been allowed the occasional licence of para- phrase, since the metaphors which pass current in an ancient idiom are rarely convertible into precise equivalents in modern diction. If, on the other hand, many of the fancies of these early poets appear common-place and trivial to those accustomed to the variety of more recent literature ; if the reader occasionally stumbles upon a thought hackneyed by modern usage, or a conceit rendered famiUar to him by its trans- fusion through many languages, let him remem- ber that the Anthology, although a rich, is not an inexhaustible storehouse of treasures, which later ages have plundered without restraint or XIV ADVERTISEMENT. scruple. Love, friendship, pleasure, sorrow, — all the most familiar sources of human interest, • — furnished the first race of poets with their freshest and most obvious images ; and succeed- ing writers have found it an easier and more popular task to reproduce them under a perpe- tual variety of forms, than to tax invention for original subjects. It is our misfortune to live in an after age, when all the poetical topics which appeal most readily to the imagination are worn threadbare by the use of so many generations. But let us not forget that the same complaint has been re-echoed from the remotest periods — 'A nctKap, offTis erjy Keivov ')(p6rov "i^pis aoiSfis, M.ovaddJV QepaiTMv, or aKtiparos r/v en \eifiwv' vvv S" ore irciPTa ^edacrrai, ey^pvcri he Treipara Te^^vai, vtrrepoi Cliare Bpofxov KaraXenrofxed', ovde tti? eort Travrrj TraTTTaivovra peo^vyes apfxa ireXacraai. J. H. Merivale. MR. BLAND'S PREFACE TO THE TWO FORMER EDITIONS. The merit to which the poems in the Greek An- thology have a claim, consists generally in the just- ness of a single thought conveyed in harmonious language. Very little can be done in the space of a few couplets, and it only remains for the writer to do that little with grace. The eye is fatigued with being raised too long to gaze on rocks and preci- pices, and delights to repose itself on the refreshing verdure and gentle slopes of scenery less bold and daring. In the same manner, the lover of poetry will sometimes find a grateful pause from grandeur and elevation, in the milder excellence of suavity and softness. The two great Epic Poets of antiquity have been instructed to sing in English numbers; and the smaller works which have been bequeathed to us XVI MK. BLAND S PREFACE have had admirers and translators. Even Horace, the most versatile, who illustrates the greatest va- riety of subjects with expressions for ever new and varying, has fallen in with persons hardy enough to attempt meeting him in all the shapes which he as- sumes. The Greek Anthology opens a wide and almost an untried field for further exertions ; and, although the present age may boast of no poets ca- pable of piercing deep into the regions made sacred by ancient genius, yet we have those whose taste may enable them to gather a few flowers that grow by the way-side, and preserve them to their country. There is a certain turn of thought in many of the English fugitive pieces, which may easily be traced to a Greek fountain ; such as that with which Ben Jonson concludes his Epitaph on Drayton. He thus addresses the ''pious marble :" " And when thy ruins shall disclaim To be the treasurer of his name. His name, that cannot fade, shall be An everlasting monument to thee." The following distich, inscribed by Ion to the me- mory of Euripides, furnished the above : Ov aov fjLpfjfia roc ear , 'RvpinlSr), ctXXct cv rovce. But our learned countryman commonly had recouise to the ancients for thoughts and images ; and he has TO THE TWO FORMER EDITIONS. XVU been detected, by Mr. Cumberland, *'in poaching in an obscure collection of love-letters, written in a most rhapsodical style," for all the ideas transmitted to us in the well-known song, '' Drink to me only with thine eyes," — for which it turns out that he was indebted to a pretty although conceited turn of thought in the twenty-fourth letter of the sophist Philostratus ; efxol Se i^iovoic, irpoirive toIg o/^iinaaiv, &c. : the version is literal. One of the few translated Epigrams (that of Simmias on the tomb of Sopho- cles,) has been naturalized in our language by every charm of poetry and of music; and Cumberland's, Observer contains several others, which, although faithfully translated, are as easy and familiar as ori- ginals. It is necessary to mention the impropriety of com- bining in our minds with the word Epigram, when applied to the poetry of the Greeks, any of the ideas which that term is apt to excite in the mind of a mere English reader. It is owing chiefly to this im- propriety, that those beautiful remains of antiquity are so little known to us, and that so few have been familiarized through the medium of translation. They relate to subjects that will be interesting and affect- ing, as long as youth and gaiety delight, as wine and music and beauty captivate, or as the contrary ideas of old-age anddeath, sickness,banishment, neglected xviii MR. eland's preface love, or forsaken friendship, can melt in pleasing sor- row, or chasten into tender melancholy. The term Epigram, which literally signifies an Inscription, was first appropriated to those short sentences which were inscribed on oflTerings made in temples. It was afterwards transferred to the inscription on the temple gate; thence to other edi- fices, to the statues of gods and heroes, and of men whether living or dead ; and the term remained, whether the inscription was in verse or in prose; as was that very ancient one on the tomb of Cyrus : 'Q avdpwtre, e-yw Kujooc, o ti]v hpyj^v role, Ylkpaaic, ktt}- aap.evoQ Koi rrJQ 'Acrirjc /BatrtAeuq' fxrj ovv (j)dovi](Tr]Q tou jui'jj^aTOG. The brevity of these inscriptions, which rendered it so easy to impress on the memory any particular event, or any illustrious name, soon re- commended them for other purposes. The lawgiver adopted them to convey a moral precept, and the lover to express a tender sentiment ; and hence, in process of time, almost every little poem, which con- cisely presented one distinct idea, or pursued one general argument, acquired the title of Epigram. But the small poems which claim the greatest attention are those which were written as memo- rials of the dead, as tokens of regard for living beauty or virtue, or as passing observations upon, and brief sketches of, human life. TO THE TWO FORMER EDITIONS. XIX The excellence belonging to the Greek inscrip- tions in honour of the dead, consists in the happy introduction of their names and peculiar characters or occupations. The lines inscribed by Pope to the illustrious dead, have been well called " Epitaphs to let." The omission of the name is not their only defect. The virtues so liberally bestowed have nothing in them of discrimination, and would sit equally easy on the shoulders of any other good or great personage, as of those thus generalized. They are " the scourge of knaves " — " honest courtiers " — " statesmen, vet friends to truth " — " uncor- rupted e'en among the great," " And they are all, all honourable men." — Yet their very names and distinguishing marks of character are frequently forgotten in the rhymes built to their immortality. In the tributes presented to beauty the same cha- racteristic is observable. A Grecian lover seldom la- bours at a picture for which the colours must be so far-fetched. Indeed he seldom gives any picture at all. He has been favoured or repulsed, as it may happen ; the occasion seems to suggest one natural turn of thought ; and, contenting himself with a de- lineation of what he felt, and not of what he might feel, he has done as much as the circumstance re- quired, and no more. XX ME. eland's preface The short observations on human life, couched in Greek Epigrams, are ever of a melancholy cast : a complaint on the ills of age, sickness, or poverty ; or a beacon set up to light us on our road, and to warn us against pride, perfidy, ingratitude, envy, and all the other shoals that lie in the way of our happiness. Gloomy and uncomfortable reflections on the shortness and misery of life, seem equally to have inspired the philosopher and the voluptuary. By such reflections the former points his moral, and the latter defends his excesses. To those, whose notions of a future state were perplexed, dark, and uncertain ; whose belief in re- tribution was unsettled and wavering, and rather an object of speculation than a ground of hope or sa- tisfaction, this present life must have appeared the boundary of all human desires and fears ; and the very uncertainty of its duration, and the dark and miserable gloom which involved everything beyond it, will of themselves account for the continual com- plaints of the sad lot of humanity to be found in the ancient poets. That such were the ideas which followed them in solitude, and crept in upon their banquets, witness the few remaining strains of Mi- mnermus, the poet of love and pleasure. From the histories, orations, and nobler poems which have come down to us, we know how to ap- preciate the bold and masterly characters, who in TO THE TWO FORMER EDITIONS. XXI lono" succession were the pilots of Greece, and whose steady guidance directed her with safety and glory through tempests which other states were unable to withstand. From documents so ample, we become acquainted with her greatest heroes and statesmen. For private events and domestic occurrences, we must look to her fugitive pieces, which, like planks of a mighty wreck, help to convey to us some idea of the majesty of the vessel which has gone to pieces. In these minor relics many events are recorded be- neath the dignity of history to commemorate, and which introduce us to the private characters, cus- toms, and transactions of the age. We follow ob- scure individuals into their retirements ; we are made companions of their festivities, are present at their tables, games, births, nuptials, and fu- nerals. While Greece was yet in her infancy, her Epi- grams were almost the only records of things, and memorials of the dead. To their testimony Hero- dotus and Thucydides recur, and these are followed by Diodorus and Plutarch, all of whom appeal to them, as to sure and undisputed authority. Scarcely was a trophy consecrated, or a city depressed by the vicissitudes of fortune and of war, without some Epigram recording the event, and the causes which led to its completion. Thus the history of an epoch xxii MR. eland's preface is sometimes found couched in a few disticbs, whicli are remembered and referred to without trouble. Simonides in particular claims our attention among the metrical historians of his country. His lines on Megistias the prophet, who fell at Thermopylce, and his inscriptions on the other heroes who perished at that famous battle, are preserved to us by Hero- dotus. Every thing relating to so generous and glorious an achievement cannot fail of interesting ; and we are at once delighted and instructed by the praises intended to convey to posterity the memory of those warriors who were the saviours of Greece. The valour of the people of Tegea, in defending themselves against the Spartans, is celebrated in four lines. On a Corinthian monument were four lines inscribed by the same poet to those of Corinth, who fell at Salamis ; and many other memorials, equally concise and important, are yet remaining. Polemo appears to have been the first collector of that species of Epigram, whose only aim it was to commemorate public transactions, cities, and gifts consecrated to the Gods. His books '* Ylepl twv Kara ttoAcic 'ETrtypafmaTWV," " Tlepi tcov avaOr)- {.lariov ev AaKe^a'ifiovi," and " Uepi twi' ev AeXcpotc Qy]rravpb}v" have furnished Athenseus and Plutarch with quotations and illustrations of times that had long elapsed. TO THE TWO FORMER EDITIONS. XXlll But jMeleager *, a Syrian, who flourished under the last of the Seleucidae, first collected the nume- rous fragments of Greece, which were entrusted, be- fore his time, to the memory of men, engraven on marbles, or dispersed as fugitive pieces. He is said to have been an imitator of the Cynic IMenippus, whom Lucian has selected as the most convenient and characteristic vehicle for scurrility and abuse : Movtrai MeXiaypoy ^levnnreiats yyXaitray j^apitn. But either some other Menippus, or some other Meleager, far different from the tender and affecting collector of the first Anthologia, seems to have been intended. It would appear impossible, that he, who so eloquently pourtrays the softer passions of our na- ture, whose muse is dedicated to amorous pleasures and incentives, should have sat a severe and stern censor on human frailties, passions, and infirmities, — that the same man who was by turns a slave to * An old Greek scholiast seems to settle the dispute concerning the aera in which Meleager lived. ijKjuu'jiv tTri ^sT^ivkov tou i(JX»~ov. Olymp. 170, about ninety-six years before the Christian aera. [Mr. Fyncs Clinton has amply confirmed the opinion here expressed; and no future translator or critic will confound toge- ther persons so dissimilar as the Cynic of Gadara, and the poet and collector of the Anthology. See Introd. to Meleager below. XXIV MR. BLAND S PREFACE love and melancholy, should have sneered sarcasti- cally at his fellow-creatures, few of whom were half so prone to weakness and error as himself. Diogenes Laertius speaks of a Meleager, who not only imitated, but equalled the biting and barking- Cynic of Gadara in wit and acrimony ; and Athe- naeus mentions a Cynic by the name of Meleager, but in such a manner, that he seems almost to be making a distinction between him and another of that name. MeXeay/ooc o Kvvikoq ev tw 2v|U7rotj-{w ovTiDol ypacjyei. Whence it appears that the Cynic had written a satire, called ^vfnroaiov. And the same author mentions the titles of two other satirical per- formances by the same Meleager, whom he calls the Cynic of Gadara, the birth-place of the Epigram- matist. Would not Athenseus with more consis- tency have given to our author the titles of Collec- tor and Poet, as well as that of Cynic, had he intended the last-mentioned appellation to have ap- plied to the same man ? * [There is a coarseness in the satirical character, which is never fined away into feeling for surrounding objects. Selfishness, which is inseparable from it, detains all its wishes and desires, its pleasures and uneasinesses, at home. The delight of such a man is purchased by the tor- * The passage here included between brackets is in the edition of 1806 (p. xvi.), but was omitted in that of 1813.— J. H. M. TO THE TWO FORMER EDITIONS. XXV ture of another, unless he has sacrificed his daily victim, — Noctem patltur lugentis araicum Peleidse. The nutriment on which he fattens is loathsome ; he cannot for a moment conceal the spirit of perse- cution, which is unrelenting ; it intrudes upon all his forced essays of philanthropy, and gives a tino-e to his constrained sallies of pleasantry. It must, it will be seen.] The relics of Meleager [form of themselves a con- trast to this description. They] bespeak a mind woven of the finest texture, shaded, but not dark- ened by melancholy ; easily affected by change of place or season ; soft and pliable to a guilty excess; and in no one instance do they betray a propensity to sneer, or a struggle to conceal it. At least his satires are no more; while his amatory poems, epi- taphs, and other records of affection, tenderness, and sorrow, remain in sufficient number to contra- dict his supposed devotion to Menippus, or to prove that, if he ever were so devoted, it was not until after he had banqueted to satiety at the table of Epicurus. The venom of Archilochus ceases to operate. All that we know of Menippus is, that his Satires were written in prose, with a sprinkling of verse ; b xxvi MR. eland's preface and even this peculiarity might have been unre- corded, had it not been imitated by Varro *, who thus procured to himself the title of the Roman Cynic, and to his writings the name of the poet whom he followed. The extemporary burlesques, written in France against the League, were collected together under the title of " Satires Menippees," and our countryman, Dr. Ferriar, has given us a specimen of the peculiarity at least of a Menippean treatise. The Menippean satires of the Cynic Meleager are so entirely buried in oblivion, that confusion has even arisen about their author. Burlesques, written to expose the eccentricities of individuals, are read with avidity, and are irresistible at their first appear- ance. The love of novelty and curiosity, the self- complacence and vanity which those persons feel who have escaped the lash, and the free indulgence of all that is malignant in human nature, conspire to adapt personal satire to the taste of the world. * Varro not only mixed prose with verse, but Greek witli Latin. The few fragments which we possess are much corrupted — the titles of many satires remain. He rejected the acrimony of Me- nippus, and is rather to be ranked am.ong those poets who are called aTovQoyi'hoioi. Boethius departs still further from the intention of Menippus ; and seeks consolation in the imprisonment imposed on him by the Gothic king, from the mixed charm of poetry and philosophy. TO THK TWO FORMER EDITIONS. XXvii But the once dreaded sting becomes blunted by time, and the salhes of raillery lose their poignancy with their application. Two Epigrams of Meleager seem to fix the aara in which he flourished. In one he commemorates the fall of Corinth ; in another he endeavours to ex- plain the emblematical figures of a cock supporting a branch of palm and a die, on the tomb of Anti- pater, the poet and philosopher of Sidon, whose re- mains are interwoven in the Anthologia. To this beautiful collection Meleager prefixed a poem descriptive of the work, and of the authors by whose contributions it was enriched. This preface is entitled the Garland, in which the choicest flowers of every ancient and contemporary poet are wreathed together, and presented to his friend Diodes. "Avvae fikv MeXeaypos, &c. Implicuit Meleager, honoratoque Diocli Munus amicitice dtsdala serta dedit ; Lilia multa Anytae subnectens, multaque Myrus Lilia ; Lesboae pauca, sed ilia rosas. The youthful vigour of Greece was now declining ; and her exertions in arms and arts were becoming less active as centuries rolled on ; but in her green old age, the features of her youth were discernible, and the spirit with which she was animated burst forth in irregular and partial gleams, that evinced b 2 xxviii MR. eland's preface her not yet to be exhausted by the efForts of former days. Deprived of the advantages enjoyed by his pre- decessor, Philip of Thessalonica continued the work after an interval of a hundred and fifty years. We must here no more expect to meet with those vivid flowers which adorned the elder wreath. Perfection is no longer to be found. The Sap- phos and Anacreons of the day were admirers and imitators of their predecessors, but bore no nearer resemblance to them than the Pseudo-Hercules * in one of Menander's plays, to the real hero of anti- quity. The same ideas recur : but the power of expression to give them their due illustration is wanting. It is a most just and elegant comparison which Addison makes somewhere in his Spectators (and which may well be transferred to the subject before us,) when, speaking of Roman eloquence, he observes, that the same idea expressed in the language of Cicero, and attempted by another writer, differs as much as the same object when seen by the light of the sun, or the glimmering of a taper. The attractions of these light compositions be- * This person is recorded to have appeared on the stage with a club, like his predecessor, which he brandished to and fro, threat- ening annihilation to the weak, timid, and defenceless. TO THE TWO FORMER EDITIONS. XXIX come less striking as we advance ; the colourings, no longer vivid, are mellowed into the tints of au- tumn, but although " fallen into the sear and yel- low leaf," remain pleasing to the eye, and interesting even to their latest decay. During the lapse of more than five hundred years, the lyre of Greece hung silent and unstrung ; and when Agathias, in the sixth century, attempted to give it sound, a feeble tinkling was returned to the touch before it lay mute for ever. This collector raked together the loose miscel- lanies and scattered fragments of his time ; and knew not that by his exertions he was bequeathing and perpetuating to succeeding ages the figure of his country, enfeebled, helpless, exhausted, and nearly sunk into dotage. Some of his own produc- tions may be brought forward to redeem it from this second childishness. He himself acknowledges the strong bent of his mind to the alluring pursuit of poetry, and in early youth he published a collec- tion of amorous poems, which he entitled " Daph- niaca." In some of his works a tenderness and justness of expression are perceivable, which would have done honour to better times; and the tribute offered to the Ereutho of Agathias, would not have been disregarded by the Heliodora of Meleager. It is most probable that our collector was assisted by XXX MR. eland's preface his friend Paul the Silentiary*, who, besides his more desultory works, wrote a laboured account of the Church, dedicated to Santa Sophia, or Sacred Wisdom, from which the cross has been taken, and the monks have in latter days retired, to make way for dervishes and the adorers of Mahomet. Many of the Epigrams of Agathias and his friend the Silentiary, correspond with each other. Paul was a courtier, who prostituted his muse, it is said, in celebration of the infamous Theodora; he was a voluptuary, who seems to have indulged himself freely in the gardens, the baths, and all the de- basing pleasures of his countrymen. He is never cloyed by possession, but returns after enjoyment, and dwells, in his polluted imagination, on the ban- quet by which he has been surfeited. In this how- ever he is not singular; for dreadful as were the calamities of his times, we turn with still greater horror from the vices which gave birth to them. We can know little of the private life of Aga- thias ; but from an anecdote which he has himself related, we may conjecture that it was imbittered by family disputes and misfortunes. His sister, Euoe- nia, had been married to Theodotus. This gentle * n«SAof li'hivrtufito^, a term adopted from the Latin Silen- tium; more properly Uav'ho;' ^avxoT!'oio^ : it was an office in the court of Justinian, corresponding to that of Gentleman-usher. TO THE TWO FORMER EDITIONS. XXxi pair, on some difference of opinion, had recourse to a trial of strength, in which, before they could be separated, they both expired*. Agathias supposes the husband to exculpate them, by declaring, from their common tomb, that neither was in fault, — that envy, or some fury, had devoted them to its ven- geance, and that before the judge of the shades they stood acquitted of malice. The labours of Agathias have however deserved well of posterity ; for as the public taste declines with the morals and power of a people, he found admirers in his contemporaries, who seem to have given all the encouragement in their power to this unpromising offspring of decrepitude, and to have watched over it with such jealous care, that we have more remains from the collection of Agathias, than from those of his two predecessors conjointly. Thus, if we are not indebted to this collector for any very refined pleasure in the perusal of his work, — yet, if it be true that muta est picturapoesis, we are at least enabled to judge, from the preference given to the new over the old collection, of the then prevailing taste in literature. A more calamitous period in the history of the * See Epig. 86 Agath. Brunck. torn. iii. p. 65. Jcxxii MR. eland's preface world is not to be found, than that which elapsed from the fourth to the sixth century. The barba- rians of the North had not only succeeded in their depredations on the enfeebled inhabitants of the Eastern and Western empires, but had introduced their manners among them, and had even engrafted their jargons on the withering stem of Grecian lite- rature. At the end of the sixth century, this unhappy country appears to have become foreign to herself, and none, except those who devoted themselves solely to the study of ancient learning, were masters of the dialects, metres, and nice discriminations be- tween words seemingly synonymous. Grammarians had, at different times, endeavoured to affix, by ac- cents, certain rules for the raising and depression of the voice, which, if not invented at this sera, were at least more generally resorted to as the standards of tone and modulation. On props so faithless and unsteady, the ancient fabric was not calculated long to brave the assaults of barbarism. The public taste continued to decline ; and while the collection of Agathias remained entire, those of Meleager and Philip were yearly losing some of their ornaments from two distinct causes : for the decay of old ma- nuscripts was not supplied by new transcribers ; and TO THE TWO FORMER EDITIONS. XXXUl with a gloomy and unrelenting zeal the ministers of religion persecuted every work of ingenuity and fancy. The first of Meleager's collections was necessarily exposed to their fury. The specimens of that work which yet remain too abundantly justify the perse- cution. It was written for the express purpose of celebrating Eastern sensuality ; and is said to have contained nothing but the divitias miseras of a mind pregnant with ideas wasted in the embellishment of vice. But unfortunately its undiscriminating ene- mies appear to have been actuated by a rage no less furious, against those beautiful relics of affection and sorrow, by which the poet endeavoured to make amends to an insulted world for the extravagance of his youth. To Agathias we are indebted for six years of the reign of Justinian, continued from the history of Procopius to the last victory of Belisarius, in the year 559, over the Bulgarians, commanded by Za- bergan. The history of our author has been cen- sured, perhaps justly, as a dull and prolix declama- tion. Yet he is generally allowed to maintain a respectable place among the Byzantine historians, and is peculiarly noticed for the mildness and huma- nity of his sentiments. The whole series of the Gothic war had been com- b 5 xxxlv MR. eland's preface pleted by Proeopius. — Daring the eventful reign of Justinian, Rome had five times changed masters, and was once more restored to her lawful Emperor by the bravery of Narses. The times were big with stratagems, individual deeds of heroism, distant mi- grations of Barbarians from the bleak and ungenial North in quest of milder suns, the havoc of war and pestilence, and the convulsions of empires and of nature *. Gibbon takes a reluctant leave of Proeo- pius for Agathias. *' We must now (says he) relin- quish a statesman and a soldier, to attend the foot- steps of a poet and a rhetorician." The savage descent of the Franks under the two brothers Buc- celin and Lothaire into the fair plains of Italy, the wild superstitions of their allies the AUemanni, who sacrificed the heads of horses to their native deities of woods and rivers, are noticed by this even and placid writer in the strain of cool philosophy. The Sibyl's cave, made venerable by its inmate and by the ancient dreams of inspiration, is only mentioned with a view of ascertaining its site with accuracy ; and the final victory gained by Narses on the banks of the Vulturnus was only chosen to give point and ornament to an epigram of six lines. Rome had so * See an account of the earthquakes that shook Constantinople incessantly, and the comets which appeared in the reign of Justi- nian. TO THE TWO FORMER EDITIONS. XXXV frequently been the seat of empire to barbarous mouarchs, had so often crouched under the despo- tism and indignities imposed on her by strangers, the theatre of her former victories had in such nu- merous instances represented the scenes of her dis- grace and humihation, that we are no longer to ex- pect from her historians that awful regard, that holy " admonitiis locorum," which is felt by the patriot while musing over the honours of his country. But in describing the joy which diffused itself over Italy, this writer is insensibly betrayed into language so nearly approaching to poetry, that its resemblance to the opening of Richard the Third could not escape the notice of Gibbon*. — ''Nothing (says Agathias) remained for the Italians but to exchange their shields and helmets for the soft lute and capacious hogshead." Agathias was one of the few remaining Greeks who made the study of the ancient language the business of their lives, and hence he obtained the name of Scholasticus ; for, amongst other encou- * I am led to observe another remavl?able resemblance between a celebrated passage in Henry the Fifth, and the following s])len- did figure in a homily of St. Chrysostom : tj-; Ss dvr&) Trqoiy Knuiau fAiv 6 oi/Qciiio; ciirocg, dixr^ou oi ii olx.ovf/,iuri, Qtarctt Zt kxI dy^QOXratt Trxvrti cLyyiK'iii kxi oivd^wTruv oaonriQ oLy/ihoi 'Tvyj(,»uov(!tu oi/r;;, ij xxxvi MR. eland's preface ragements held out to support the cause of expiring literature, the names and titles of grammarian and scholar were applied to those who signalized them- selves by successful application to the works of their forefathers. In the tenth century, the manuscripts, from the combined effects of time, discord, and superstition, were either nearly destroyed, or falling quietly into oblivion. Happily for the lovers of poetry, a person, known to us by name only, embarked once more in the undertaking, and saved the vessel that was go- ino- unnoticed down the stream of time to oblivion. This person was Constantinus Cephalus, the friend and relation of the Emperor Leo the Philosopher, some of whose whimsical productions appear in the work. How small a share of Hterature and talent entitled a person in these days to public notice, we may easily collect from the honourable title con- ferred on Leo, whose time appears to have been de- voted to anything" rather than those pursuits from whence he derived his precedence in name. Maximus Planudes, a monk of the fourteenth century, was the last collector. We are not to ex- pect great excellence of selection in a man of that age and profession ; and must not be surprised if many dull and, to say no worse of them, unmeaning epigrams of his tasteless times have a place in his TO THE TWO FORMER EDITIONS. XXXVU work, to the exclusion of others recommended by elegance and antiquity *. Pianudes turned with abhorrence from the many indelicacies that yet disgraced the work ; and, as Lascaris says of him in his Preface, " Non magis disposuit, quam mutilavit, et, ut ita dicam, castravit hunc librum, detractis lascivioribus epigrammatis ; ut ipse gloriatur." To this imperfect and tasteless abridgement the scholars of Europe were referred until the seven- teenth century ; and this might have been added to the number of instances on record, where abridge- ments have survived their originals, had not a youth of Burgundy, the pride and wonder of the age in which he lived, rescued the parent collection from total oblivion. Claude de Saumaise, well known to us by the name of Salmasius, was one of those original and hardy geniuses of the sixteenth and beginning of the seven- teenth centuries who braved the terrors of religious persecution, and embraced tenets rather from con- viction than the fashion of the times. His mother was a Protestant, and had infused into his mind her • The Edilio Princeps of this Antholog'ia was that of Janus Lascaris, accompaniccl by a Greek Prologue of the editor, and a Latin Epistle to Pietro de' Medici, printed at Florence, August, 1192. xxxviii MR. eland's preface notions on points of faith with such assiduity, that, after a residence in Paris of two or three years, he fled from that city to Heidelberg, for the express purpose of enjoying in freedom his religious opi- nions. It was at the age of fourteen that, under the escort of some merchants who were going to Frankfort fair, he reached the capital of the Pala- tinate, with recommendatory letters to all the learned there from Isaac Casaubon, with whom he had be- come intimate at Paris. To oblige his father, he studied civil law under Gothofredus. But his own inclination induced him to avail himself of the per- mission granted him of perusing the books contained in the library of the Palatinate. To accomplish this purpose, he sat up every third night, and was already pronounced by Casaubon "ad miraculum doctus." His time was employed in comparing printed edi- tions with their MSS., and in transcribing the MSS. not hitherto printed. He soon discovered that Maximus Planudes had been unfaithful in the oflice he had undertaken ; and put together that collection, which, though un- published, has ever since been known by the name of Salmasian, and constantly referred to by succeed- ing commentators. Various causes prevented Salmasius from pub- lishing his favourite work. Towards the close of life TO THE TWO FORMER EDITIONS. XXXIX he was in great estimation among the sovereigns of Europe, and, on his return from Sweden, was un- fortunately engaged to undertake the defence of the unhappy House of Stuart, which called down upon him the retaliation of Milton, with whom he was in no respect qualified to measure lances. Thus elated by the attentions of the great, and humbled in a contest with one who was then regarded as compa-; ratively an obscure individual, his mind fluctuated between the extremes of grandeur and debasement, and seems for ever to have lost that firm serenity, that just appreciation of its own powers, which neither aims at things beyond its grasp, nor sacri- fices, to a temporary repulse, the pursuit in which it was formed to excel from inclination and experi- ence. * [Within the last century, however, others arose to complete the task which Salmasius left imperfectly accomplished. Various MSS. in almost all the great public libraries of Europe, contained multi- tudes of Epigrams which had been rejected by or unknown to Planudes; many of them such as he certainly could not be imagined to have cast aside from any of the conscientious scruples above alluded to. The great Dictionary of Suidas, also, and other * The part included within brackets was added to the original Preface in the Edition of 1813.— J. H. M. xl MR. eland's preface similar magazines of ancient literature, had pre- served numbers, either entire, or in fragments, which are to be found in none of those existing MSS. and the sources of which are now no longer to be traced. From this mass of materials Brunck undertook to sup- ply the deficiencies of all former editions of the An- thology ; and his''Analecta,"corrected and perfected with all the industry and learning for which his name is so deservedly eminent, form the text of the later and very superior edition which has been since given to the world by Jacobs. The "Analecta," however, comprise, besides the numerous legitimate additions to the Anthology of Planudes already mentioned, a great quantity of the works of the minor Grecian poets, who are not, strictly speaking, entitled to a place among the Poets of the Anthology ; and this is avowed by Jacobs to have been his principal mo- tive for o-ivino; a new edition of Brunck, in which all extraneous matter was to be omitted, in pre- ference to publishing simply a commentary upon Brunck 's whole text. This intention being ex- pressed in the very outset of his Preface, it appears strangely inconsistent in him to have retained the Lyrics and Elegiacs of Simonides, the Fragments of Archilochus and Bacchylides, the Hymns of Proclus, &c. while he rejected the greater proportion of the Elegiac, Gnomic, Lyric, and Pastoral Poems which TO THE TWO FORMER EDITIONS. xU formed so large a part of Brunck's publication. He surely might have retained the whole, if he retained any part ; and he does not assign the shadow of a sufficient reason for making such a selection. The conduct of both these Editors of the Antho- logy being so arbitrary in this respect, there seems to be no apology necessary on the part of an English translator, who has considered himself as not con- fined exclusively even within the widest of the limits which they have prescribed ; and the fragments of dramatic writers, and even the few extracts from the great tragedians which will be found in the ensuing pages, may, it is hoped, defend their intrusion upon pleas at least as good as any that can be adduced in favour of Theocritus, Sappho, or Anacreon. To return to the editions of the Anthology : Ja- cobs's is the latest, and incomparably the best. It proceeds (as I have said before,) on the text, and retains the paging, of Brunck ; and all the numeri- cal references in the following Work are made to the same text. Whenever the sense of any of the pieces, which I selected for translation, appeared to require explanation, I have also made free use of the assist- ance which his annotations furnish towards it. A considerable portion of the Anthologia still re- mained in its inedited state after Brunck and Jacobs liad ransacked all the libraries to which they had xlii MR. bland's preface access, for the sake of giving the whole to the pub- lic. A splendid MS. known by the name of the Vatican, and now in the Imperial library at Paris, seems to have been untouched by them ; and it is said to contain some hundreds of Epigrams by the oldest and best poets of the Anthology, which are not to be found in either Brunck or Jacobs. Several of these have been subsequently edited by Huschke, in a small volume entitled "Analecta Critica;" but the best and fullest account of the MS. which con- tains them is to be found in the "Melanges de Cri- tique et de Philologie, par S. Chardon de la Ro- chette, 3 tomes, Paris, 1812," which contains also a few of the Epigrams themselves, with the conjec- tural emendations and notes of the very learned and sensible writer. We also learn, from that Work, that M. Chardon himself has, for a great many years past, been engaged in the design of giving to the world a new edition of the Anthology, to comprise all that ought strictly to be comprised under the term, and of course the whole of the yet unexhaust- ed treasures of this Vatican MS. The revolution of France, he says, interrupted the execution of this design, but he gives reason to believe that he has since resumed it ; and if our hopes of the whole Work are well founded upon these few specimens, there is reason to expect at last a perfect collection TO THE TWO FORMER EDITIONS. xliii of all those pieces of fugitive poetry, the history of which, and of their early assemblage and subsequent dispersion, has been hastily and imperfectly sketch- ed in the preceding pages. To this late publication of M. Chardon, it will be seen that I am under ob- ligations, upon other grounds, besides that of its having afforded me the information, which I have here communicated, respecting the '' Anthologia inedita."] I cannot conclude without slightly noticing the principal sources from which (besides the Antho- logia,) the materials of the ensuing Work have been collected. The first is Athenoeus, who was an Egyptian, a native of Naucratos, and flourished in the third century. From his extraordinary powers of memory, and from the extensive learning which his works display, he has acquired and merited the title of the Grecian Varro. Of these works, which were numerous, that of the " Deipnosophists " only remains to us, and is alone sufficient to support his character and justify his pre-eminence. To us, at least, it is rendered a most invaluable treasure by the quotations it contains from celebrated works of esteemed authors, and from authors whose names alone would have survived to us but for the frag- ments which it preserves. He conveys information, in the most pleasing way, on the most interesting xliv MR. eland's preface subjects, the customs, manners, and opinions of the Greeks ; and we are likewise indebted to him for several of the poems which the later collectors have inserted in the Anthologia. Joannes Stobseus was so called from the place of his birth, Stobae, in Macedonia. His age is not pre- cisely ascertained, but has been conjectured by Heeren, his commentator, to have been about the end of the fourth, and beginning of the fifth cen- turies. He was also a collector of an Anthologia, but on a very different principle from any hitherto mentioned. The instruction of a favourite son was the scope of his labours ; and to this we are indebt- ed for both the collections which we have under his name, but which, in all probability, were but sepa- rate parts of the same work. They consist of ex- tracts from the most excellent philosophers and mo- ral dramatic writers of Greece. To a work contain- ing the united wisdom of the best ages of antiquity and the most beautiful poetry which the vigorous genius of Athens ever produced, the title of a well- arranged common-place book is perhaps now the strongest recommendation that can be given ; and to such praise are the books of Stobseus entitled. Fragments of near three hundred writers are pre- served by him, of whom the greatest number have so nearly suffered their final dissolution, that no ves" TO THE TWO FORMER EDITIONS. xlv tiges of them remain anywhere else ; particularly those of the many comic writers of Menander's school, which (perhaps beyond any other circum- stances,) tend to make us regret the cruel depreda- tions of time. I shall, in the course of my present undertaking, present a few of these in an English dress. — Their serious and moral turn, united to a force and energy of expression which entitles them to a very high poetical estimation, will afford a pleas- ino- variety from the lighter and more alluring lays of Meleager, Agathius, and Antipater. The name of Menander, from the praises lavished on him by his contemporaries, suggests to our mind the most complete model of gaiety that any poet before or since his time has presented. We are en- titled, from the universal assent of the ancients, to expect this quality in a writer, to whom it was said so eminently to belong. But time has revelled on the noble image of Menander ; it has preyed on all that was inviting in his aspect, and spared little else than his frowns, wrinkles, and deformities. What a proof does it present to our mind of the instability of fame, when we find that the very character of this celebrated bard has undergone so entire a revolu- tion j and that of his voluminous works, the monu- ments by which lie vainly hoped to be immortalized, only fragments enough remain to present to our xlvi MR. eland's preface view the very reverse of that which they were de- signed to perpetuate ! Even this poet, gloomy and melancholy as he now appears, was once, according to Pliny, " omnis luxuricB interpres ;" in the language of Plutarch, " the constant worshiper, the chief priest of the God of Love, who, like some universal spirit, per- vaded and connected all his works." Yet his love was so refined and his voluptuousness so guarded by delicacy, that he was placed, without scruple or dan- ger, in the hands of youths and virgins : Fabula jucundi nulla est sine amore Menandri, Et solet hie pueris \-irginib usque legi. — Ovid. ' Many ages after his death, a statue was erected to his memory, and placed by the side of the image of Cupid. Two or three Epigrams, made upon this statue, are preserved, which display, in the figurative and forcible language of his countrymen, the estimation in which he was held, and give him a distinguished rank among the gay and amorous poets of antiquity. " In supporting the characters of fathers, sons, husbands, soldiers, peasants, the rich and the poor, the violent and the gentle, Menander surpassed all in consistency, and by the brilliance of his imagery threw every rival into the shade." Such is the cha- TO THE TWO FORMER EDITIONS. xlvii racter given of him by Quintilian. The natural par- tiality of Caesar for his countrymen only permits him to give a secondary place to Terence, the imitator of the elegant, but not of the witty, Grecian. Ausonius couples our poet with Homer ; and he is extolled by all those who had access to his works, with an en- thusiasm not inferior to that with which the name of the prince of poets is mentioned. I have heard that a great English orator, now livino*, the only scholar who has made the style of Demosthenes his own, and adapted it to present politics and the events of the times, has frequently declared his opinion, founded on the specimens of our poet which yet remain, and the praises of all the discernino- ancients, that the loss of his dramas is more to be deplored than of any other ancient writ- ino-s whatever. The real Menander is departed from us ; and all the praises of antiquity, and the regret of subsequent ages, resemble only the rich mantle which wraps the corpse of a monarch, or the frank- incense which burns upon his pile ! A few relics, among those of lesser note yet re- maining, (which like the bones of some giant picked * That is, in the year 1806, when this Preface was printed. In the Edition of 1813 the words " now no more " were substitntcd in the place of "now living." It is almost unnecessaiy to add that Fox was the orator alluded to. — J. H. M. xlviii MR. eland's preface up in the field, once the theatre of his exploits, cannot be fitted to any other than the huge body to which they belonged,) give us some idea of the vastness of Menander. — But " quantum mutatus ab illo!" Where are the perfumes, the breathings of gallantry and tenderness, the sprightly sallies of wit, and all the apparatus and circumstances of love, youth, and delight, that conveyed and recommend- ed Morality to the gay and thoughtless, by attiring her in a dress that enamoured her beholders ? That his aim was morality, is evident from the praises bestowed on him by Plutarch and other writers. This end he kept in view, " unmixed with baser matter," and by a sort of UeidavayKr], by an equal exertion of force and persuasion, commanded the hearts of his readers and auditors. And yet the fragments that have come down to us stamp him with the character of morose, sarcastic, and queru- lous. But these sentiments were put by him into the mouths of characters whom he designed to hold up to detestation or ridicule; — and what remains of him does not mark so strongly his own peculiar ge- nius, as the taste of those selectors who have chosen his words to illustrate their own ideas. Thus to the saturnine and melancholy selector we owe the survival of the sad, peevish, and infantine complaints on the many sorrowful items " which flesh is heir TO THE TWO FOKMER EDITIONS. xllX to," and which, instead of offering an alleviation to the evils we suffer, tend to aggravate their load and debilitate the bearer. On the other hand, the stri- kingly moral passages with which his works abound- ed alone causht the attention of the fathers of the primitive church, who found in the Greek comedian a strain of piety so nearly approaching to their own belief and feelings, that all ideas of a preponderance of satire over moral precept must yield to evidence so irresistible as the approbation of Clemens Alex- andrinus and Eusebius. In short, it is from these two sources alone, the writings of the melancholy and of the religious man, that we are furnished with our specimens of the great Menander. Happy were it for us, and for posterity, had the gay, the lively, and the witty, finished the portrait of the bard, by transmitting to after ages examples that would have enabled us to measure him by the standards of humour, sprightliness, and fancy. The superiority of the Grecian dramatists was felt and acknowledged by their Roman imitators and admirers ; and Cicero frequently reprobates the prevailing partiality of his countrymen for these fo- reign authors. He supposes a Roman thus to object to his arguments : " Shall I toil through the Syne- phebi of Caecilius, and the Andria of Terence, when I may as easily read the same plays in Menander?" c 1 MR. eland's preface The answer of Cicero is not very convincing, nor likely to turn the scale in favour of the Roman stage. Menander was drowned in the harbour of Piraeus (A. C. 293), at a time of life when he had done enough for immortality, but while the powers of his mind were yet unimpaired by age, and his genius sufficiently ardent to do still more. He is said to have thrown himself into the sea in a fit of jealousy, occasioned by his unfortunate competition with Phi- lemon, his contemporary in the Middle Comedy. He was vanquished, as Aulus Gellius asserts, by the superior interest rather than talents of his success- ful rival ; and the same writer relates that, meet- ing Philemon shortly after the contest had been de- cided, he asked him, ''if he did not blush at gain- ing the prize against him?" Menander is to be classed in the melancholy list of great men to whom the jealousy, bad taste, or intrigues of the times in which they lived, denied justice, and to whose names fame and honour were attached when they no longer lived to enjoy them. By a strange fatality, a great proportion of the writers of antiquity were thus prematurely cut off from existence. Euripides and Heraclitus were torn to pieces by dogs. Theocritus ended his career by the halter. Empedocles was lost in the crater of Mount Etna. Hesiod was murdered by his secret TO THE TWO FORMER EDITIONS. II enemies; Archilochus and Ibycus by banditti. Sap- pho threw herself from a precipice. iEschylus pe- rished by the fall of a tortoise. Anacreon (as might be expected) owed his death to the fruit of the vine. Cratinus and Terence experienced the same fate with Menander. Seneca and Lucan were condemned to death by a tyrant, cut their veins, and died repeat- ino- their own verses ; and Petronius Arbiter met a similar catastrophe. Lucretius, it is said, wrote under the delirium of a philter administered by his mis- tress, and destroyed himself from its effects. Poison, though swallowed under very different circumstances, cutshort the days both of Socrates and Demosthenes; and Cicero fell under the proscription of the Trium- virate. It is truly wonderful that so many men, the professed votaries of peace and retirement, should have met with fates so widely different from that to which the common casualties of life should seem to expose them. Of Philemon, the successful rival of Menander, we know but little. He seems to have passed his life in the exercise of those social virtues which se- cure to a man the affection of intimates, but have little tendency to advance him to notice. These peaceful virtues would probably have consigned the comic poet to obscurity, had not his exigencies call- ed out the powers he possessed to surmount those c 2 lii MK. BLAND S PREFACE obstacles which his inchnution had opposea, and pushed him into active hfe. His ears could not have been deaf to the plaudits conferred on his per- formances, and some sparks of ambition must have been kept alive by perpetual rivalry with the great master of the sock. We have a picture of Sterne, drawn by himself, in the attitude of feeding an ass with macaroons : " And at this moment," says that sprightly and whimsical writer, " that I am telling it, my heart smites me that there was more of pleasantry in the conceit of seeing how an ass would eat a macaroon, than of benevolence in giving him one, which pre- sided in the act." It would be hard to say what figure an ass would make while thus engaged ; but we are told by Valerius Maximus, that a similar entertainment caused the death of Philemon. This poet, on entering a room to refresh himself with some fi2:s, observed that an ass had been before- hand with him, and was leisurely devouring them one by one. Philemon, wishing to complete the repast, courteously ordered a slave to present his dumb guest with a goblet of wine. This curious symposium provoked the comedian to such a degree of laughter, that he was suffocated in the struggle. Every anecdote of Philemon, down to the tragi- comic one which closed his existence, recommends TO THE TWO FORMER EDITIONS. liil him to our esteem. He is said to have possessed infinite good-humour ; and to the ease and gaiety of his manners and amiable character he was, pro- bably, more indebted for his many triumphs over Menander, than to any superiority as a writer. * [Everything seems to have been so well tempered within him, all violent and malignant passions to have been held in such perfect subjection, and all the more engaging and estimable qualities to have been allowed such free indulgence, that his consti- tution suffered no violence from pent-up emotions, and his body no diminution of vigour from the jar- ring, gloomy or furious elements of his mind. He did not indulge in the luxuries of the table, which, as they pamper, irritate and inflame, are, at least, one of the sources from which the most dangerous disorders of temper, intellect, and constitution, de- rive their growth. Owing to these causes, he reached the very advanced age of one hundred and one years.] The Fragments of Philemon that have come down to us bespeak a mind tranquil and unruffled, capa- ble, from its intimacy with the human heart and all its intricacies, to dictate what is for the good of • The passage included between brackets is in the edition of 1806, p. li., but omitted in that of 1813.— J. H. M. liv MR. eland's preface mankind, but content with gentle admonition and persuasion. I have thus briefly recapitulated what I knew of a few principal originals from which I have made translations. Some names, with an occasional re- mark or an anecdote, will find a place in the notes subjoined. * [Something may here be expected from me in excuse for the number of modern trifles introduced into the notes, partly on their own account, and partly for the purpose of illustrating the triflers of Greece. — They may be said to form a book upon a book. These happy nothings are principally of French origin ; and those whose taste is little flat- tered by the simple soupe a la Grecque, may not dislike the seasoning of the soupe a la Frangoise. The names of Moncrif, Chaulieu, Racine, J. B. Rousseau, Mad. Deshoulieres, Pannard, the Com- * The passage included between brackets is added in the edi- tion of 1813. It must be observed that the greater part of this added passage will be found inapplicable to the present edition, in which it has been endeavoured to obviate the too just censure of a now Right Reverend critic, by leaving out of the Notes all that he complained of as being, " to speak the truth in the words of Cicei-o — otio et Uteris intemperantcr abiiii." For the remainder of the critical remarks included between these brackets, the Editor begs not to be considered as wishing to render himself entirely responsible. — J. H. M. TO THE TWO FORMER EDITIONS. \v tesse de Murat, Maillard, Boileau and Bernard, are, it is hoped, sufficient to excuse their introduction, even though a little forced, into the service of the ancients. Not to speak of their more important works, by which many of these names have become immortal, no modern authors have so gracefully re- laxed from labour, and none have trifled with equal playfulness and success. The French madrigal is, be- sides, the very fac-simile of the old Greek epigram. In comparing the epigram of the wittiest modern na- tion with that of Martial, modern times have nothing to regret. The character of these trifles has never yet been impressed on English literature, except by the few imitations of Prior ; and we are reproached to this day, by the best of their critical writers on the comparative literature of nations *, with our su- perfluity of words ; we are said to be yet strangers to the charm of that definite, close, and-graceful ex- pression, termed by her " le langage serre." This language, which she affirms to be utterly unknown to our prose, and which, with the exception of Gold- smith, Collins, and Gray, has been banished from our verse since the sera of Dryden and of Pope, has now left us altogether. Poetry has, for the first time, been induced to submit itself to fashion. Man- • Madame de Stael. Ivi MR. eland's preface nerism has become the substitute for character, oddity for meaning, the infinite and indefinite of description for thought, and a grotesque jingle for harmony of numbers. This latter excellence, which is the very soul of poetry, without which the very term has no meaning, and which, when allied to the charm of diction and of style, forms the only distinc- tive barrier between poetry and prose, this compa- rative music, so difficult to be elicited from a North- ern language, which cost the successive effort and improvement of every great writer, until it reached its point of perfection in the more finished cadences to be found scattered at intervals in different parts of .Dryden, has been voluntarily abandoned, and again we court a barbarism from which it was so hard to emerge. Every thought, from the most pleasing to the most sublime, may find utterance in unmeasured language. Music, cadence, harmony alone, exalt the thought, so conceived, to that ex- cellence which deserves the name and title of poetry. Those authors who arise so congenial with their times, that they appear expected and called-for by the existing modes, habits, and feelings of society, should remember that, with the passing away of those times, they pass away also. These attempts at ancient uncouthness, like the cements which are at present invented in imitation TO THE TWO FORMER EDITIONS. Ivii of stone, may answer their purpose for a period. A few rains, succeeded by a few frosts, lay open the imposition in the edifice ; their decay resembles not that of age ; it claims from us no reverence ; we cannot respect them in their mouldering state ; it is the premature decay of youth, accelerated by de- bauch ; and even in their ruins there is levity and folly. To this compliance with fashion we must attribute the unreasonable eulogies bestowed one year on writers, who, before the expiration of two lustres, become unpopular with equal want of reason. Those only can live, whose feelings and reasonings are so true and general as to be affected by no artificial pre- paration in matters of judgement, wit, and taste. They are ** the men of old," as Rousseau has it, " living in modern times." But their sentiments are those of nature, of unyieldino; and unchano'ins: nature ; and the modern times to come, whose fashions shall have assumed a new, and possibly a contrary bent, shall be their advocates and admirers. " That which good taste has once approved," says the same author, 'Ss ever good. If it be seldom fashionable, on the other hand it is never absurd ; and it derives from the congruity of things sure and unalterable rules, which remain when the fashions themselves are no more." True taste, it may be Iviii MR. eland's preface added, refuses all accommodation with fashion, every attempt at a composition or compromise, and sooner than yield in her pretensions, contents her- self with obscurity, mitil the times themselves shall come round and bow to her jurisdiction. The author who aspires to after ages, should take leave of the ao-e in which he lives. To be drawn into the vortex of fashionable writing, is to pass that gate on which is inscribed " Voi cLe intrate, lasciate ogni speranza." The charm of the French madrigal, like that of the Greek epigram, consists in the perfect adapta- tion of each word to the impression intended to be made, the exclusion of synonymes, the rare and happy epithet, the fine and delicate turn which em- bellishes a thought trivial and familiar ; and, above all, in that virtue, which modern English writers utterly explode, conciseness. The subjects too are rationally chosen. Here are no tender oglings of a tuUp, no ecstasies at infantine remembrances, no prostrations before a butterfly, no melancholy strains on the neglected virtues of a robin redbreast. The themes also are not below the level of common un- derstanding, and, in general, much good sense is couched beneath the happy trifle. The scheme of our Work naturally induced some disquisition into the Fugitive Pieces of ancient and TO THE TWO rORMER EDITIONS. lix modern Europe. It now remains for me to notice an irregularity which nearly affects that translator whose name appears on the title-page. It will doubtless appear strange, that, of the two principal authors, he who has contributed the least portion of the body of the work, should be most prominent to the public. While he regrets the necessity, he has been compelled to yield to the instances of his associate; and has, at the same time, been induced, by the representations of their publisher, who ob- jected to the plan of a book entirely anonymous, to suffer his own name to appear in a place to which it is entitled no otherwise than by participation. As the signatures afSxed to the different metrical pieces will do but half justice to his friend, it is a duty im- posed on him, by his consideration for his associate and for the reader, to declare that this participation extends, in an equal proportion, to the remainder of the work.] To return to the Epigrams. — It has been my en- deavour to avoid any needless discussion on their merits. They have had their enemies and protectors. From bad specimens of the later poets, Lord Ches- terfield was probably led to utter his interdict against the whole body. Nay, such was that nobleman's vivacity in thinking and speaking, that he not im- probably formed his opinion from a hint dropped in Ix MR. eland's preface conversation, and not from any intimate acquaint- ance with the species of composition which he has most inconsiderately reviled. A few of His Lord- ship's admirers caught the idea, and ignorance and stupidity joined in the hue and cry, led on by fashion and ability. On the other hand, they found an admirer them- selves in Dr. Johnson, who filled up the intervals of pain, during his last illness, in translating several of them into Latin. And Mr. Cumberland has pre- sented us, in his Observer, with some which he has rendered into our own language, but more particu- larly Fragments from the Comic Poets. The estimation in which they were held in the country which gave them birth, is evinced by the care taken to preserve them at different periods, and when the difficulties of collecting and collating were infinitely greater than among ourselves. But the mother country knew exactly how to appreciate their value, by assigning to them the real place which they were destined to hold with honour. They were considered in general as pleasing and light pastimes to the poet and his reader, and no unfair demands were made upon such modest professions. Since those days their friends and enemies have equally conspired against them ; their enemies by accusing them of a deficiency in point, equivoque, and hu- TO THE TWO FORMER EDITIONS. Ixi mour, at which they seldom aim ; their friends, by indiscriminately praising the whole body, by ad- vancing them to a degree of consequence for which they are unfitted, and by venerating what they should only esteem. They have stood the test of ages, and while tried by their own laws were not found wanting. The charge of simplicity was subject to no penalties or censures among the Greeks : let us not then impose laws on them with which they were unacquainted, and from which they cannot escape uncensured. But it is time that I put an end to my remarks, lest I should be numbered among those false friends who injure the cause which they seem to defend, by di- lating what had been more seasonably compressed, and giving dignity to trifles. PROLOGUE. Thou little -wTcath, by Fancy twin'd In Summer's sun and Winter's wind, lliat thro' an age of deei)est gloom Hast kept thy fragrance and thy bloom, Tho' now whole centuries have roll'd. And nations, since thy birth, grown old. Ixii PROLOGUE. Tho' Time have wither'd many a leaf. And silent Envy play'd the thief. And clowns have breath'd in evil hour A poison into thy sweet flower, — Yet dost thou live — nor tyrants' rage Hath nipp'd thee quite, nor wars, nor age. Yet not, as once, the gentle earth Thou dost adorn that gave thee birth. When, all unforc'd by pains and toil. Wild shooting in thy native soil. The sweetest buds that deck'd the land Were pluck'd by Meleager's hand. Who curl'd Anacreon's blushing vine Around Erinna's eglantine. And Myro's lilies cull'd, to shade The roses of the Lesbian Maid, And pluck'd the myrtle from thy grove, Callimachus, the sprig of love. With these my venturous hand shall wreathe The baleful plants that sadly breathe. That with a sigh the Tragic Muse Around her path majestic strews ; And I will twine, these flowers among, Menander, prince of comic song ! Pluck'd from thy many garlands bright, So charming once and new to sight, Some honours spar'd by age and clime. That live to grace an after-time. Our unavailing sorrows mourn Tlay roses pale, thy lilies torn ; PROLOGUE. Ixiii Thy garden rifled of its bloom, Thy violets robb'd of their perfume : Thy gaudy tulips now have lost Tlieir smiles by many a chilling frost ; Thy Spring's rich wardrobe now is scant ; And now some sad and wintery plant. Some wither'd shrub of power maUgn, Of all that grac'd thy garden fine Remains of thee, or sickly yew, "Where buds of heavenly fragrance grew. Or mourner cypress spreads a shade. Or plant of Daphne, hapless maid ! Yet, 'mid the melancholy night. Some scatter'd honours give delight. And here and there a rose is found Neglected on the chilly ground. And a chance lily sheds its snow Beneath the darker shrubs of woe. Oh, not as erst, thou modest wreath, Shalt thou of all thy fragrance breathe ! Oh, not as erst, when Genius knew To give thy colours to the view. And Taste was ready to display The flowers that fell in Fancy's way ! For zephyrs soft that fann'd thy youth, How wilt thou meet the gale uncouth ? Torn from a genial Summer's smile. How wilt thou bear a northern isle ? Far from thy home and native sky. Meek stranger, wilt thou live or die ? B. Ixiv EPILOGUE. EPILOGUE. 'Tis past — and o'er her laurels torn The Queen of Nations bends to mourn. The Nurse of heroes crouches low. Slave to a base ignoble foe. Seas, where triumphant fleets unfurl'd Their banners that o'eraw'd the world. Lands peopled by the wise and brave. Abode of patriots and their grave. Fields, where the early Muse awoke. And tuneful reeds the silence broke, Mountains (retreat of gods), and vales That give their fragrance to the gales, Rivers, from steepy heights that fell. Where, tenants of each sparry cell. Beneath your waters fring'd with flowers The Nymphs of Fountains pass'd their hours, While on your margin stretch'd along The poet dream'd or tun'd his song. At which the Dryads would appear, And sylvan boys run out to hear ; — Dim are your glories, sunk your name. And all has perish'd but the fame That never shall thro' time decay. While nations rise and melt away. EPILOGUE. ]> XV Fraught with the treasures of the past. As years to years succeeding haste, "WTiat the' in ev'ry age we trace A moral for the coming race. In vain we backward cast our eyes On follies, crimes, and miseries. From war and havoc shrink in vain, And aU is acted o'er again. Dead are the bards — but li^ing lays Resound and tell of early days. And still the trembling chords prolong Untouch'd the power of ancient song ; Dear is their minstrelsy, that floats In solemn, sweet, and liquid notes, Tliat registers the orphan's sigh. The plighted lover's peijury. The pride of riches and of power. The mirthful, and the mournful hour ; That paints the virgin in her bloom. The triumph, banquetj and the tomb. The deeds of mighty chiefs, who broke The tyrant's chain, and spurn'd his yoke, And then by Beauty's arms subdued Were led in willing servitude. Dear are the records that unfold The pleasures and the cares of old, And bid us in the past descry The visions of Futurity. B. TABLE OF AUTHORS. ^SCHYLTJS page 93 AlCcEus 27 Alcaeus (Mess.) 187 Alcman 39 Alexander {Mt.) 173 Anacreon 41 Antagoras 152 Antipater 201, 238 Anyte 115 Aratus 146 Archilochus 1 Arion 10 Ariphron 89 Aristotle 91, 109 Asclepiades 121 Bacchylides 75 Bias 83 Bion 164 Callimachus 174 Callistratus 84 Cleobulus 53 Damagetes 195 Dioscorides 190 Diotimiis 143 Empedocles 95 Erinna 23 Euenus 96 Euphorion 148 Hedylus 184 Hegesippus 147, 238 Hemiodorus 154 Hybrias 88 Ibycus 37 Leonidas 127 Melanippides poge 40 Meleager 210 Menecrates 181 Metrodorus 199 Mnasalcus 110 Moschus 167 Myro 118 Nicaenetus 171 Nicias 141 Nossis 113 Pamphilus 150 Pancrates 151 Perses 194 Phaedimus 153 Phaennus 149 Pittacus 82 Plato 100 Polystratus 193 Posidippus 198 Rhianus 182 Samius 186 Sapplio 12 Scol/a [various) 81 Simmias (Rhod.) 120 Simmias (Theb.) 99 Simonides 54 Speusippus 108 Stesicliorus 33 Theocritus 155 Theodoridas 197 Tiraocreon 90 Tymneus 191 Uncertain Authors 239 HMI2V MEr ^TXHS ETI TO HNEON. (Callimachus.) STANZAS FROM BYRON. " The isles of Greece, the isles of Greece ! "Where burning Sappho lov'd and sung, Where grew the arts of war and peace, — Where Delos rose, and Phoebus sprung ! Eternal summer gilds them yet. But aU, except their sun, is set. " The Scian and the Teian muse. The hero's harp, the lover's lute. Have found the fame your shores refuse ; Their place of birth alone is mute To sounds which echo further West Than your sires' Islands of the Blest. " Fill high the bowl with Samian wine ! We will not think of themes like these ; It made Anacreon's song divine : He serv'd — but serv'd Polycrates — A tyrant — but our masters then Were still, at least, our countrymen. " Fill high the bowl with Samian wine ! Our virgins dance beneath the shade — I see their glorious black eyes shine ; But, gazing on each glowing maid. My own the burning tear-drojD laves, To think such breasts must suckle slaves. " Place me on Sunium's marbled steep. Where notliing, save the waves and I, May hear our mutual murmurs sweep : There, swan-like, let me sing and die : A land of slaves shall ne'er be mine — — Dash down your cup of Samian wine ! " COLLECTIONS. PART L CONTAINING SPECIMENS OF THE EARLY LYRIC POETS. ARCHILOCHUS.* J. HE name of Archilochus is deservedly placed at the head of this Collection, as not only the earliest in date, but one of the foremost in celebrity, of those commemorated by Meleager as forming a part of his Wreath, or Crown, of Flowers, in the fanciful Prologue already noticed. A distich is there assigned him, descriptive alike of the pungency of his satire and the scarcity of the remnants of his poetn-, under the emblem of a Thistle. 'Ev Se Kal e/c 0Of}/3^s ffKoXioTpixos dvOos dKavQhs 'Apy^ikoxov, jiiKpas (rrpayyas an ojKeavov. To the account which is given of him in almost every Biographical Dictionary, beginning with Bayle, by whom * Jacobs, Anth. Graec. Lips. 1794, Tom. i. p. 40 et seq. B ARCHILOCHUS. his name is connected with abundance of learned though whimsical illustration, little in substance will be found to have been added by the industry of his most learned com- mentators, — amongst whom it is enough to refer to the " Recherches sur la Vie et sur les Ouvrages d'Archiloque," contained in the " Memoires de I'Academie des Inscrip- tions," t. xiv. p. 55, and to the late edition of his Works by Liebel (Lips. 1812). Of the many poetical compositions ascribed to him, we possess, with the exception of a single Epigram, comprised in a distich of antique simplicity, only a few scattered fragments ; some elegiac — but mostly lyri- cal, and in the rapid trochaic measure, which in the ensuing versions it has been generally attempted to preserve : no- thing, however, or next to nothing, that appears to justify the character assigned to him, and which we must presume to have been merited by his lost Iambics. With respect to chronology, Archilochus is placed by Tatian, (see Clinton, Fasti Hellenici, vol. i. p. 296,) as having flourished about the twenty-third Olympiad, cor- responding with the year 688 B. C, towards the end of the reign of Gyges king of Lydia ; that is to say, about five hundred years later than the date commonly ascribed to the Trojan war, and two hundred years previous to the battle of Marathon. The memorial of his Hfe, so far as is necessary to the ex- planation of the few fragments of his works which remain to us, may be reduced to the compass of the following facts. He was born at Paros, of one of the noblest families in that island, whence he emigrated, at the age of twenty, to Thasos, on the occasion of the foundation of a colony of Parians, an event which Herodotus has recorded. He is ARCHILOCHUS. 6 among the first on the long list of soldier-poets ; and, in the course of his military career, an event happened to him in the loss of his shield, which seems to have exposed liim to the sarcasm of some of his contemporaries, and which forms the subject of an allusion in one of his ensuing Frag- ments. His marriage with Neobule, daughter of Lycambes, — which, as some say, proceeded no further than to a mere contract, broken by the avarice of the father — is a circum- stance rendered memorable by the strange story attached to it of poetical vengeance, and of its fatal consequences. Horace, who made the writings of Archilochus, in liis time extant, the subject both of his study and imitation, more than once alludes to this singular catastrophe ; but in all that now survives of the poet we find, besides a few dis- jointed fragments, to which the ingenuity of commentators has been appUed in detecting fancied allusions, only a single line containing any clear reference to the connexion which gave rise to it; and that line the exclamation, not of a furious satirist, but of a tender and passionate lover. El yap ws eiiol yevoiTO x^'P" 'Seol3ov\i]S Qiye'iv. All that remams to be said in this place is, that the poet appears to have led a life of poverty and misfortune ; the cause, perhaps, at once, and consequence, of the malevo- lent humour for which he is so distinguished. B -2 ARCHILOCHUS. FRAGMENTS. [N.B. The figures prefixed to each poem denote the number in the Original Text. The pieces marked with an asterisk (*) are those already published, with the number of the page annexed, in the edition of 1813.] I. (1,6,7.) FROM AN ELEGY ON A SHIPWRECK. *p. 179. M. Loud are our griefs, my friend ; and vain is lie Would steep the sense in mirth and revelry. O'er those we mourn the hoarse-resounding wave Hath clos'd, and whelm'd them in their ocean grave. Deep sorrow swells each breast. But Heaven bestows One healing med'cine for severest woes, — Resolv'd endurance — for Affliction pours To all by turns, — today the cup is ours. Bear bravely, then, the common trial sent. And cast away your womanish lament ! Ah ! had it been the will of Heav'n to save His honour'd reliques fi-om a nameless grave ! Had we but seen th' accustom'd flames aspire, And wrap his corse in purifying fire ! Yet what avails it to lament the dead .'' Say, will it profit aught to shroud our head, And wear away in grief the fleeting hours. Rather than 'mid bright nymphs in rosy bowers } ARCHILOCHUS. O II. (3.) ON THE LOSS OF HIS SHIELD, m. The foe-man glories in my shield — I left it on the battle field ; I threw it doAAni beside th^wood, Unscath'd by scars, unstain'd with blood. And let him glory ! Since, from death Escap'd, I keep my forfeit breath, I soon may find, at little cost, As good a shield as that I 've lost. III. (4.) THE CLOSE FIGHT. m. Bows will not avail thee. Darts and slings will fail thee. When Mars tumultuous rages On wide embattled land. Then with faulchions clashing. Eyes with fury flashing, Man with man engages In combat, hand to hand. But most Euboea's chiefs are known, Marshal'd hosts of spearmen leading To conflict whence is no receding, To make this — war's best art — their own. IV. (.5.) CONVIVIAL. c. m. Come then, my friend, and seize the flask. And while the deck around us rolls. Dash we the cover from the cask. And crown with wine our flowing bowls. 6 ARCHILOCHUS. While the deep hold is tempest-tost, We 11 strain bright nectar from the lees For, tho' our freedom here be lost. We drink no water on the seas. V. (9.) A PAIR OF MILITARY PORTRAITS, m. Boast me not your valiant captain, strutting fierce with measur'd stride. Glorying in his well-trimm'd beard, and wavy ringlets' cluster' d pride. Mine be he that 's short of stature, firm of foot, with curved knee ; Heart of oak in limb and feature, and of courage bold and free. VI. (10.) RICHES AND POWER. m. For Gyges' wealth let others care. Gold is nothing to me ; Envy of another's share Never shall undo me. Nothing that the Gods decree Moves my special wonder ; And as for boastful tyranny — We 're too far asunder. ARCHILOCHUS. VII. (11.) THE MIND OF MAN. ai. The mind of man is such as Jove Ordains by his immortal will, WTio moulds it in his courts above. His heav'nly purpose to fulfil. VIII. (13.) THE STORM. m. Behold, my Glaucus ! how the deep Heaves, while the sweeping billows howl. And round the promontory steep The big black clouds portentous scowl. With thunder fraught and lightning's glare, While Terror rules, and wild Despair. IX. (14, 15.) MORAL. m. Soul ! O Soul ! when round thee whelming cares like mountain surges close. Patient bear their mighty rage, and with thy strength their strength oppose. Be a manly breast your bulwark, your defence firm-planted feet ; So the serried line of hostile spears with calm composure meet. Yet in Vict'ry's golden hour, raise not your proud vaunts too high ; 8 ARCHILOCHUS. Nor, if vanquish'd, meanly stooping pierce with loud lament the sky : But in prosp'rous fortune so re- joice, and in reverses mourn. As well knowing what is destin'd for the race of woman born. Leave the gods to order all things : often from the gulf of woe They exalt the poor man grov'ling in the gloomy shades below ; Often turn again, and prostrate lay in dust the loftiest head. Dooming him thro' life to wander, reft of sense, and wanting bread. X. (16.) THE ECLIPSE. m. Never man again may swear tilings still shall be as erst they were ; Never more in wonder stare, since Jove the Olympian thunderer Bade the sun's meridian splendour hide in shades of thickest night ; While th' affrighted nations started, trembling at the fearful sight. Who shall dare to doubt hereafter whatsoever man may say? Who refuse with stupid laughter credence to the wildest lay .^ ARCHfLOCHUS. 9 Tho' for pasture dolphins ranging, leap the hills, and scour the wood. And fierce wolves, their nature changing, dive beneath th' astonish'd flood. XI. (17, 18, 19.) ON LIFE AND DEATH. ji. Jove sits in highest Heav'n, and opes the springs. To man, of monstrous and forbidden things. Death seals the fountains of reward and fame : Man dies, and leaves no guardian of his name. Applause awaits us only whde we live. While we can honour take, and honour give : Yet were it base for man, of woman born. To mock the naked ghost with jests or scom. XII. (21,22.) THE ISLAND THASOS. m. Like the sharp back-bone of an ass it stood, That rugged Isle, o'ergrown with shaggy wood. No verdant grot, no lawn for poet's dream. Is there, like those by Siris' pleasant stream. B O 10 ARION. ARION.* The fabulous history of Anon, and his preservation on the back of a dolphin, is familiar to every reader. The follow- ing Hymn is quoted and attributed to him by ^Elian (de Nat. Anim. xii. 45), who has also preserved a distich on the same subject, which he affirms to have been inscribed on a statue of the poet. Great doubt has been thrown on its authenticity, by the circumstance of the statue having been mentioned, without notice of any inscription, by He- rodotus and others ; and neither inscription nor hymn can well be regarded in any other light than apocryphal. The principal poem, however, is at least deserving of the reve- rence due to great, though uncertain, antiquity ; and we have followed Jacobs in the chronological order here as- signed to it. THE HYMN OF ARION. c. m. Hail, Neptune, greatest of the gods ! Thou ruler of the salt sea floods : Thou with the deep and dark- green hair. That dost the golden trident bear : * Jacobs, torn. i. p. 48. ARION. 11 Thou that with either arm outspread Embosomest the earth we tread : Thine are the beasts with fins and scales That, round thy chariot, as it sails. Plunging and tumbling, fast and free. All reckless follow o'er the sea. Thine are the gentle dolphin throng. That love and listen to the song ; With whom the sister Nereids stray. And in their cr}'stal caverns play. They bore me well to Pelops' isle. And Sparta's rocky mountain-pile ; And thro' the deep Sicilian sea, The briny champain plough' d for me ; When wicked men had cast me o'er Our vessel's side, into the roar Of clashing waters, and a grave Yawn'd for me in the purple wave. 12 SAPPHO. SAPPHO.* Of this great poetess, besides tlie immortal fragment, and the Hymn to Venus, rendered familiar to the English reader by the versions of Ambrose Philips, nothing of importance in any degree commensurate with her fame has been pre- served to us. As respects those exquisite reliques, we might perhaps have been excused from adding to the num- ber of attem^Dts which have been subsequently made to give the English reader a more correct impression of their ini- mitable beauties. All such endeavours must more or less partake the character of decided failures, since the graces of the original, principally residing in the inexpressible charm of language, are of a nature essentially untrans- latable. But, although their cliief, these are not their only excellencies ; and that they possess others which are more within the scope of imitation, may be held a sufficient apo- logy for a new ti'ial. It remains to be said, for the sake of chronological me- thod, that the date assigned as that of the sera at which Sappho flourished is B.C. 610, more than seventy years later than Archilochus, and fifty before Anacreon ; and con- sequently that her reputed amour with the latter poet is to be classed among the splendid fictions, the " magnanime mensogne" of early romance, having perhaps the poet Her- * Sapphonis Fragmenta. (Museum Criticuiii, vol. i. p. 1.) SAPPHO. 13 mesianax, who lived about three hundred years after her, for its inventor. Tlie only portions of Sappho's poetry received by Jacobs into his Anthology are three Epigrams, neither of them pos- sessing any extraordinary merit. The Ode and Fragments are all excluded, though upon what principle of selection it is difficult to imagine, since the lyrical fragments of other ancient poets have been retained. The order obserA'ed in the following versions is that of Bishop Blomfield, in the Museum Criticum, which has been adopted for reference, as exhibiting the most correct, as well as the completest, edition of the works of this poetess ; comparing it, how- ever, with that by Volger (1810), as well as with the quarto by Wolf, in which last are exhibited, together with all the pieces, genuine or apocryphal, ever ascribed to Sappho, a collection of such poems and poetical passages of antiquity as in any manner relate to her. For a lively criticism on the character, historical and poetical, of this most cUstinguished person, the reader is re- ferred to the article "On Greek Authoresses," in the Edin. Rev. No. CIX. To attempt, at this time of day, her vin- dication from aspersions as old at least as the Augustan a"-e, would be the most absurd of literary Quixotism. But, so far as unfavourable inferences have been drawn from any passages of her writings now remaining to us, it may in fairness be asked whether, considering they are mere frag- ments, they amount to any sort of evidence; since it is impossible to say whether the poetess is speaking in her own person, or in that of some imaginary character. 14 SAPPHO. I. (1.) HYMN TO VENUS. m. Immortal Venus, thron'd above In radiant beauty ! Child of Jove ! O skill'd in every art of love, And artful snare ! Dread power, to vi^hom I bend the knee ! Release my soul, and set it free From bonds of piercing agony. And gloomy care ! Yet come thyself ! if e'er, benign, Tliy list'ning ear thou didst incline To my rude lay, the starry shine Of Jove's court leaving, In chariot yok'd with coursers fair. Thine own immortal birds, that bear Thee swift to earth, the middle air With bright wings cleaving. Soon they were sped — and thou, most blest. In thine own smiles ambrosial drest. Didst ask what griefs my mind ojDjoress'd — What meant my song — What end my phrensied thoughts pursue — For what lov'd youth I spread anew My amorous nets — " Who, Sappho, who Hath done thee wrong ? SAPPHO. 15 What though he fly, he '11 soon return — Still press thy gifts, though now he spurn ; Heed not his coldness — soon he 'U burn. E'en though thou chide." — And saidst thou thus, dread goddess ? — O Come then once more to ease my woe ! Grant all ! — and thy great self bestow. My shield and guide ! II. (2.) ODE. E(s 'Epb)fi€vav. Blest as th' immortal Gods is he. The youth whose eyes may look on thee. Whose ears thy tongue's sweet melody May stiU devour ! Thou smilest too ? — sweet smile, whose charm Has struck my soul with wild alarm, And, W'hen I see thee, bids disarm Each vital power. Speechless I gaze : the flame within Runs swift o'er all my quiv'ring skin ; My eye-balls swim ; with dizzy din My brain reels round; And cold drops fall ; and tremblings frail Seize every limb ; and grassy pale I grow ; and then — together fail Both sight and sound ! M. IG SAPPHO. FRAGMENTS. I. (3.) M, Planets, that round the beauteous moon Attendant wait, cast into shade Tlieir ineifectual lustres, soon As she, in full-orb'd majesty array'd. Her silver radiance pours Upon this world of ours. II. (4.) M. Thro' orchard j^lots, with fragrance crown'd, The clear cold fountain murm'ring flows ; And forest leaves with rustlinsr sound o Invite to soft repose. III. (10.) ANON. (Edin.Rev.) Come, Venus, come ! Hither with thy golden cup. Where nectar-floated flow'rets swim, FiU, fiU the goblet up ! Thy laughing lips shall kiss the brim. Come, Venus, come ! SAPPHO. 17 IV. (11.) *p. 125. B. Unknown, unheeded, shalt thou die. And no memorial shall proclaim, That once beneath the upper sky Tliou hadst a being and a name. For never to the Muses' bowers Didst thou with glowing heart repair. Nor ever intertw'ine the flowers Tliat fancy strews unnumber'd there. Doom'd o'er that dreary realm, alone, Shunn'd by the gentler shades, to go. Nor friend shall soothe, nor parent own The child of sloth, the Muses' foe. V. (15.) M. To what Admetus said of old attend. And guard within your breast his counsel, friend ! " Cling to the Brave and Good — the Base disown — Whose best of fortunes is to live unknown." VI. (20.) M. Here, fairest Rhodope, recline ! And 'mid thy bright locks intertwine. With fingers soft as softest down. The ever verdant parsley crown. 18 SAPPHO. The Gods are pleas'd with flow'rs that bloom, And leaves that shed divine perfume, But, if ungarlanded, despise The richest ofFer'd sacrifice. VII. (21.) A DIALOGUE. m. " Sweet Rose of May ! sweet Rose of May ! Whither, ah whither fled away ?" " What 's gone no time can e'er restore — I come no more — I come no more !" VIII. (22.) M. Yes, yes, I own it true — Pleasure 's the good that I pursue. How blest is then my destiny. That I may love and honour too — So bright, so brave a love is that allotted me ! IX. (23.) ELTON. Mothek ! sweet mother ! 'tis in vain — I cannot now the shuttle throw : That youth is in my heart and brain — And Venus' ling' ring fires within me glow. X. (28.) M. The silver moon is set ; The Pleiades are gone ; Half the long night is spent, — and yet, — I lie alone. SAPPHO. 19 XI. (29.) M. Wealth, without virtue, is a dangerous guest : — "Who holds them mingled, is supremely blest. XII. (4.5.) ANON. (Edin. Rev.) Hesper ! every gift is thine — Thou bring' st the kidling from the rock ; ITiou bring' st the damsel with the flock ; Thou bring' st us rosy wine. XIII. (51.) M. I HAVE a child — a lovely one — In beauty like the golden sun, Or like sweet flow'rs of earliest bloom ; And Cle'is is her name — for whom I Lydia's treasures, were they mine. Would glad resign. XIV. (74.) ANON. (Edin. Rev.) Beauty, fair flow'r, upon the surface lies : But Worth with Beauty soon in aspect vies. 20 SAPPHO. EPITAPHS. I. (1.) ON A PRIESTESS OF DIANA. Does any ask ? I answer from the dead ; A voice that lives is graven o'er my head : To dark-ey'd Dian, ere my days begun, Aristo vow'd me, wife of Saon's son : Then hear thy priestess, hear, O Virgin power ! And thy best gifts on Saon's lineage show'r. II. (2.) ON A FISHERMAN. elton. This oar, and net, and fisher's wicker'd snare, Tlaemiscus plac'd above his buried son — Memorials of the lot in life he bare, The hard and needy life of Pelagon. III. (3.) ON A BELOVED COMPANION, cm. Deep in the dreary chambers of the dead Asteria's ghost hath made her bridal bed. Still to this stone her fond compeers may turn. And shed their cherish' d tresses on her urn. SAPPHO. 21 POEMS ASCRIBED TO SAPPHO. I. HYMN TO THE ROSE. * p. 56. boyd. If, on Creation's mom, the King of Heaven To shrubs and flowers a sovereign lord had given, O beauteous Rose, he had anointed tliee Of shrubs and flowers the sovereign lord to be. The spotless emblem of unsullied truth, The smile of beauty and the glow of youth ; The garden's pride, the grace of vernal bowers. The blush of meadows, and the eye of flowers ; It beams resplendent as the orbs above, Inviting Paphia's form, and breathing love. Blooming with odorous leaves, and petals fair. In youthful pride it spreads its silken snare. By Zephyr kiss'd it laughs, and woos the fanning air. II. THE LOVES OF SAPPHO AND ANACREON. MOORE. Anacreon. Spirit of Love ! whose tresses shine Along the breeze, in golden twine. Come ! within a fragrant cloud. Blushing with light, thy votary shroud ; And, on those wings that sparkling play. Waft, oh ! waft me hence away ! 22 SAPPHO. Love ! my soul is full of thee. Alive to all thy luxury: But she, the nymph for whom I glow, The pi'etty Lesbian mocks my woe ; Smiles at the hoar and silver'd hues Which Time upon my forehead strews. Alas ! I fear she keeps her charms In store for younger, happier arms. Sappho. O Muse, who sitt'st on golden throne ! Full many a hymn of dulcet tone The Teian sage is taught by thee. But, Goddess ! from thy throne of gold, The sweetest hymn thou 'st ever told. He lately learn'd and sang for me. III. THE LOVES OF SAPPHO AND ALC^EUS. ANON. Alc^us. I FAIN would speak — I fain would tell ; But shame and fear my utterance quell. Sappho. If aught of good, if aught of fair, Thy tongue were labouring to declare, Nor shame should dash thy glance, nor fear Forbid thy suit to reach my ear. ERIXNA. 23 ERINNA.* " TXvKvif 'Hpivvijs TTapQevoxpoJTa icpoKov." The crocus, or saiFron-flower, is the emblem assigned to this poetess in the Garland of Meleager, on account of its maiden paleness; as in Cymbeline — " The flow'r that 's like thy face, pale primrose." Of the three epigrams ascribed to her, a version of each of which is here offered, in the order in which they are placed by Brunck and Jacobs, the first is observed to be in a different style from that of the other two ; and, as in many other instances, ancient commentators have endeavoured to account for the difference by a supposition, probably gra- tuitous, of there having been a multiplicity of Erinnas. Not to waste time, however, in vain conjecture, it may be permitted us to adopt the common tradition which makes her contemporary with — perhaps a companion of — Sappho, and which attributes to her the praise of beauty and genius, with the tender accompaniment of an early death. She is celebrated, on all these accounts, by Asclepiades (No. 35); by Antipater Sidonius, in an ejiigram after inserted ; and by an uncertain author, in another epigram (No. 523), which commemorates a poem of her composing under the title of " Tlie Distaff," 'lIXaK'ctr;?, stating it to have consisted of * Jacobs, toni. i. p. 50. 24 ERINNA. three hundred verses, although she is designated by An- tipater as the ' Word-sparing,' — Uavpoeni'is. She is there also asserted to have been as much the superior of Sappho in her hexameters or heroic verses, as she was inferior to that great poetess in lyrical composition. It is observed by a recent critic already referred to, that "An Ode to Rome — not, as Grotius would have it, to Forti- tude, — which is sometimes ascribed to her, must be the pro- duction of a later wnriter ; " a criticism in which we, some- what reluctantly, are forced to agree, though Grotius is unjustly censured for having fallen into the error of Sto- bseus, who presented it in his "Florilegium" under the title 'Aydpela, Fortitude. And, since Brunck has retained it in his Analecta, we have not scrupled to insert a version of it in this place, notwithstanding our con\-iction that it must be regarded as merely apocrj^phal. I. (1.) ON A PORTRAIT. >. From skiKul hands my being I derive, O best Prometheus ! own that human art May with thy plastic power not vainly strive. Here Agatharchis breathes — in every part. Save that she wants the charm of voice, alive. II. (2.) ON A BELOVED COMPANION. * p. 285. b. Say, ye cold i^Ulars, and thou weeping urn. And sctJptur'd Sirens that appear to mourn, ERINNA. 25 And guard, within, my poor and senseless dust, Consign'd by fondest memory to your trust — Say to the stranger, as he muses nigh. That Ida's ashes here lamented lie, Of noble lineage, — that Erinna's love Thus mourns the partner of her joys above. III. (3.) THE SAME SUBJECT. * p. 284. m. I AM the tomb of Ida, hapless bride ! Unto this piUar, traveller, turn aside ; Turn to this tearwom monument, and say, " O envious Death, to charm this life away !" These mystic emblems aU too plainly show The bitter fate of her who sleeps below : The very torch that laughing Hymen bore To light the virgin to the bridegroom's door. With that same torch the bridegroom lights the fire That dimly glimmers on her funeral pyre. Thou too, O Hymen ! bidst the nuptial lay In elegiac moanings die away. IV. ODE. M. Eis rrjv 'Pw/mijv. Daughter of Mars ! Hail, mighty Power ! Stern Queen, with golden crown array'd ! Who build' st on earth thy regal tower, A high Olympus, ne'er assay'd ! c 26 ERINNA. To thee alone hath awful Fate The pride of vast dominion lent ; The strength to bind a rising state In bonds of order'd government. Beneath thy yoke's compelling beam Unmeasur'd Earth, and Ocean hoar Together bend ; whilst thou, supreme, The nations rul'st from shore to shore. E'en mightiest Time, whose laws prevail To change the world at his decree. Can never turn the prosp'rous gale That swells thy potent sov'reignty. Of thee alone a race is born, The first to blaze in glorious fight. Like spiky ranks of waving corn. That Ceres marshals, golden-bright. ALC^US. 27 ALC.EUS f. 'AXKaiov ve \a.\)]dpov ev vfivoTToXois vaKivQov. (Meleager. I. 13.) Having fixed the ckronology of Sappho, it becomes unne- cessary to say more of the period of Alcaeus, than that he is admitted on all hands to have been contemporary with that great poetess, of whom he was also the fellow-countrjTnan, and, according to ancient and not improbable tradition, a favoured admirer. Like Archilochus, he united in his per- son the miUtary to the poetical character, and — which is not a little remarkable — was, like him, also celebrated for ha^•ing saved his life, with the loss of his shield, by flight. This incident occurred to him in a battle with the Athe- nians ; and, such was the reputation he then enjoyed, that the victors triumphantly suspended the trophy in the tem- ple of Miner\'a, while the poet consoled himself for the dis- grace by commemorating it in the following words pre- served by Strabo (as Wesseling conjectures them to have been written) : 'A\k«Tos (Twos, ap' ot evrea S' ovx- " Alcseus is safe, tho' his arms are lost." As a warrior and patriot, the name of Alcscus is impe- rishably associated with that stem and unrelenting spirit of enmity to tyranny or monarchical government, by which the cities and islands of Greece had in his time already t "Alcaei Mitylenaei Fragmenta." Museum Crilicura, vol. i. p. 421. c 2 28 ALCiEUS. begun to be distinguished, and which shortly afterwards became their most striking characteristic. As a poet, he has been commended by the ancients for the union of " magnificence with brevity, of sweetness with consum- mate strength of expression, of the use of figure and meta- phor with perspicuity;" whUe by others he is recorded, in conjunction with Anacreon, as ha\-ing passed his life in familiar intercourse with his books, which he regarded in the light of friends and companions ; and that, " whatever hai^pened to him he was in the habit of making the subject of poetical celebration, — whether it partook of joy or sor- row, whether loves or festivals, the dangers of battle or the miseries of exile." " Et te sonantem plenius aureo, Alcaee, plectro, dura navis, Dura fugae mala, dura belli." — Hor. Od. II. 13. Of the few fragments that have reached us, let it not be thought too bold att- assertion, that there is enough amply to justify the high praises which antiquity did not hesitate to bestow on him. Among these scattered reliques, except a few words quoted, or rather referred to, by Aristides the Rhetorician, on which Sir William Jones has founded his noble paraphrase, "What constitutes a state ?" &c., and which are omitted by Bishop Blomfield in the collection of his remains published in the first volume of the " Museum Criticum," none, so far as we know, have ever yet been presented in an English version. In exhibiting the follow- ing attempt, which includes aU that appear to come within reach of poetical translation, we have only again to appeal to the extreme difficulty of the task as our apology for the imperfection of its execution. ALC.BUS. 29 I. (1.) CONVIVIAL. M. Jove descends in sleet and snow ; Howls the vex'd and angry deep ; Every stream forgets to flow, Bound in winter's icy sleep. Ocean wave and forest hoar To the blast responsive roar. Drive the tempest from your door, Blaze on blaze your hearthstone piling', And unmeasur'd goblets pour Brimful high with nectar smiling. Then beneath your Poet's head Be a downy pillow spread. II. (2.) THE STORM. m. Now here, now there, the wild waves sweep. Whilst we betwixt them o'er the deep, In shatter'd tempest-beaten bark. With labouring ropes are onward driven, The billows dashing o'er our dark Upheaved deck — in tatters riven Our sails — whose yawning rents between The raging sea and sky are seen. Loose from their hold our anchors burst ; And then the third, the fatal wave Comes rolling onward, like the first. And doubles all our toil to save. 30 ALC^US, III. (3.) CONVIVIAL. M. To be bow'd by grief is folly : Nought is gain'd by melancholy ; Better than the pain of thinking Is to steep the sense in drinking. IV. (4.) SONG OF TRIUMPH. m. Now is our time to drink, and tread The joyous dance — since Myrsilus is dead. V. (18.) CONVIVIAL. M. Glad your hearts Mdth rosy wine, Now the dog-star takes his round ; Sultry hours to sleep incline ; Gapes with heat the sultry ground. Crickets sing on leafy boughs. And the thistle is in flower ; Melting maids forget the vows Made to th' moon in colder hours. VI. (20.) CONVIVIAL. m. Why wait we for the torches' lights } Now let us drink — the day invites. In mighty flagons liither bring The deep red blood of many a vine. That we may largely quaff, and sing The praises of the god of wine — ALCiEUS. 31 The son of Jove and Semele, Who gave the jocund grape to be A sweet oblivion of our woes. Fill, fill the goblets — one and two ; Let every brimmer, as it flows. In sportive chase the last pursue ! VII. (24.) THE SPOILS OF WAR. u. Glitters with brass my mansion wide ; The roof is deck'd on every side In martial pride. With helmets rang'd in order bright And plumes of horse-hair nodding white, A gallant sight — — Fit ornament for warrior's brow — And round the walls, in goodly row. Refulgent glow Stout greaves of brass like burnish'd gold, And corslets there, in many a fold Of linen roU'd ; And shields that in the battle fray The routed losers of the day Have cast away ; Euboean faulchions too are seen, With rich embroider'd belts between Of dazzling sheen : And gaudy surcoats pil'd around. The spoils of chiefs in war renown'd. May there be found. 32 ALC^US. Tliese, and all else that here you see. Are fruits of glorious \'ictory Achiev'd by me. VIII. (26, 28.) POVERTY. m. The worst of ills and hardest to endure. Past hope, past cure, Is Penury, who, with her sister mate Disorder, soon brings dowTi the loftiest state. And makes it desolate. This truth the sage of Sparta told, Aristodemus old, — " Wealth makes the man." On him that 's poor Proud worth looks down, and honour shuts the door. IX. THE CONSTITUTION OF A STATE. SIR WILLIAM JONES. What constitutes a state ? Not high-rais'd battlement or labour'd mound. Thick wall or moated gate. Not cities fair with spires and turrets cro"wn'd. No : men — high-minded men — With powers as far above dull brutes endued In forest, brake, or den, As beasts excel cold rocks and brambles rude. Men, who their duties know. Know too their rights, and, knowing, dare maintain. Prevent the long-aim'd blow. And crush the tjTant while they rend the chain. STESICHORUS. 33 STESICHORUS.t Stesichorus, a native of Himera in Sicily, was born in the thirty- seventh 01}Tnp. (B. C. 632), and died in the fifty- sixth (B. C. 353), at the age of eighty. He lived in the time, and probably under the dominion, of Phalaris, tyrant of Agrigentum, and was contemporary with Sappho, Al- caeus, and Pittacus. Of his real history few particulars have descended to us. The fabulous narrative by which he is \asited with loss of sight as a punishment for his " Vitupe- ration " of Helen, and which affirms its miraculous restora- tion on the achievement of a "Palinode" composed at the instigation of a dream, appears to derive its origin from a figurative expression used by the poet himself, in the form of a poetical recantation. It is indeed doubtful whether the two supposed poems entitled, one the " Vitujieration," the other the " Encomium," of Helen, were themselves any more than detached portions of a larger work, also attributed to him, under the denomination of 'IXiov Trepais, " The Destruction of Troy," of which one or two very small fragments are all that remains to us. His other principal works, of which the titles, with a few scattered extracts, are preserved, consist in the "Geryoneis," — a poem, as its name would import, in celebration of the Giant Gerj'on, — the " Orestea," the " Rhadine," and the " Scylla," each indicating by its title the subject to Avhich t Blonificld, Mus. Crit., vol. ii. p. 25G. c 5 34 STESICHORUS, it related. Besides these, he is cited as having composed Bucolics, and Gymnastic, or rather Aetlilic, pieces. His character as a poet, and especially as contrasted with the fervid Alcaeus, the playful Anacreon, and the em- passioned Sajipho, may be collected from Horace. " Non, si priores Mseonius tenet Sedes Homerus, Pindaricae latent, Ceeeque, et Alcsei minaces, Stesichorique graves Camcenae : Nee si quid olim lusit Anacreon Delevit jEtas : spirat adhuc amor, Vivuntque commissi calores Teliae fidibus puellae." And to this testimony may be added that of Cicero (In Verr. II. 35.) vv^hen, speaking of the poet's native city, where his statue was at that time to be seen, he says, " Erat etiam Steslchori poetse statua senilis, incurva, cum libro, summo, ut putant, artlficls facta, qui fult Himerse, sed et est, et fult tota in Grfecia summo propter ingenium honore et nomine." Wlio can read these praises of ancient writers, and not join in the poetical aspiration breathed by a modern, deeply imbued with the same feelings of reverence ? " Utlnam profecto Steslchorum non Invldlsset nobis vetustas, cujus gravitatem et magnificentiam omnes prsedicant ; quern prae ceteris laudat Dlonysius, quod et arguraenta sumeret grandia imprimis et splendlde, et in lis tractandis mores et perso- narum dignitatem egregle servaret. Alcseo autem prsecipue Ta Twv TToXiTiKwv TTpayjuarwj' i]Bos idem tribult : at cui viro } quam strenuo civi ? quam anlmoso reipublicse et legum pro- pugnatori ? quam acri tyrannorum insectatori et vindici ? STESICHORUS. 35 qui gladium suum pariter et lyram Patriae et Libertati con- secraverat; cujus 'minaces Camcense' perorapopulivolitan- tes et praesenti et perpetuo erant, non modo suae civitati, sed et universae Graeciae, contra malorum civium conatus praesidio." (Lowtlide Sacra Poes. Hebr. Prael. I. p. 12). J I. (III. 1.) THE VOYAGE OF THE SUN. h. m. (From the Geryoneis.) BcT now the Sun, great Hyperion's child, Embark'd again ujoon his golden chalice. And westward steer'd, where far o'er ocean wild Sleeps the dim night in solitary valleys ; Where dwell his mother, and his consort mild. And infant sons, in his sequester' d palace ; Whilst onward through the laurel-shaded grove Mov'd with firm step the hero son of Jove. II. (III. 3.) HERCULES AND THE CENTAUR, m. (From the Same.) He said : then, raising to his mouth the cup That held three gallons, mantling to the brim, At one unflinching draught he toss'd it up : Pholus the wine had mix'd, and pledg'd to him. III. (IV. 1.) THE SACRIFICE OF TYNDARUS. m. (From the Helena.) When as the royal Tyndarus did pay To all the Gods above meet sacrifice, 36 STESICHORUS. Benignant Venus he forgot, alone. By prayer or incense humbly to atone ; And hence th' offended power with hateful eyes Beheld his sister- offspring ; wherefore they Were doom'd thenceforth to lead dishonest lives- Unnatural mothers, and adult'rous wives. IV. (IV. 2.) THE PROCESSION. m. (From the Same.) Before the regal chariot, as it pass'd. Were bright Cydonian apples scatter'd round. And mjTtle leaves in showers of fragrance cast ; And many a wreath was there, with roses bound. And many a coronal, wherein were set. Like gems, rich rows of purple violet. V. (2, 3.) FROM SCATTERED FRAGMENTS, m. Vain it is for those to weep Who repose in Death's last sleep. With man's life ends all the story Of his wisdom, wit, and glory. IBYCUS. 37 IBYCUS.f This poet, a native of Rhegium in Italy, flourished in the time of Croesus, from the fifty-fourth to the sixtieth Olym- piad (B. C. 564-539). He left his native country and came to Samos during the government of Polycrates, but upon what occasion is doubtful ; nor can it be ascertained when or where he met his unhappy end — an event well known, and often cited as an instance of the watchfulness of the Di\ane vengeance — being murdered by pirates on a desert beach, and the discovery subsequently made by the inad- vertent exclamation of one of the murderers, who, on a flock of cranes flying over the market-place at Corinth, obsen-ed aloud to another also present, "Behold the avengers of Ibycus ! " A flock of the same birds had been seen by them at the time when they committed the mur- der. Of his poetry a very few fragments remain, of which the two following, preserved by Athenaeus, are the prin- cipal. The second appears to justify the remarkable ex- pression with which it is introduced by the critic, as appli- cable to the impassioned vehemence of his style, — Kat 6 Priylyos ^e'lflvKos (ioa. Koi KEKpayev Hpi, &c. I. EURYALE. M. Sweetest flower, Eurj^ale ! Whom the maids with tresses fair, Sister Graces, make their care — t Athenaeus, xiii. 564, (iOl. (\ f\ i\ 'w Q 38 IBYCUS. Thee Cythera nourish'd — thee Pitho, with the radiant brow ; And 'mid bowers where roses blow Led thy laughing infancy. II. THE RETURN OF SPRING.* p. 353. m. What time soft Zephyrs fan the trees In the blest gardens of th' Hesperides, Where those bright golden apples glow. Fed by the fruitful streams that round them flow, And new-born clusters teem with wine Beneath the shadowy foliage of the vine ; To me the joyous season brings But added torture on his sunny wings. Then Love, the tyrant of my breast. Impetuous ravisher of joy and rest. Bursts, furious, from his mother's arms, And fills my trembling soul with new alarms ; Like Boreas from his Thracian plains, Cloth'd in fierce lightnings, in my bosom reigns. And rages still, the madd'ning power — His parching flames my wither'd heart devour ; Wild Phrensy comes my senses o'er. Sweet Peace is fled, and Reason rules no more. ALCMAN. 39 ALCMAN.f Alcman, -whose age and country are both involved in some degree of uncertainty, but who is generally reputed to have been born at Sardis, and to have been nearly contemporary with Archilochus, is at all events to be numbered among the fathers of l}Tic poetry, and is especially characterized by Athenseus, on the authority of Archytas, as — twv epu)TiKwv /ueXwi' liyefxura. The scanty fragments of his works which remain to us belong to a somewhat different class of com- positions, and might be transplanted with advantage into the "Almanac des Gourmands," but are wholly unconver- tible into the language of Enghsh poetry. The following is the only morsel at all analogous to his reputation as " Prince of amorous poesy." MEGALOSTRATA. m. Again sweet Love, by Cytherea led. Hath all my soul possest ; Again delicious rapture shed In torrents o'er my breast. Now Megalostrata the fair. Of all the Virgin train Most blessed — with her yellow floating hair — Hath brought me to the Muses' holy fane. To flourish there. •(• Athenoeus, lib. xiii. p. GOO. 40 MELANIPPIDES. MELANIPPIDES.f "NapKiffffov Se ropCjv MevaXLirniSov eyicvoi' v/jiviov. Meleager. i. 7. This poet was a native of Melos, and flourished about the sixty-fifth Olympiad (B. C. 520). The fragment handed down by Athenseus, of which the following lines are given as a free version, is introduced in a dissertation among his Deipnosophists on the merits of flutes and flute-performers. We do not think it necessary to quote the reply made by Telestes of Argos, another dithyrambic poet, who lived about a century later, but refer the reader, for the particu- lars of the dispute, to the entertaining work which has re- corded it. THE FLUTE REJECTED BY MINERVA. m. But Athene flung away From her pure hand those noxious instruments It late had touch'd, and thus did say — " Hence, ye banes of beauty, hence ; What ? shall I my charms disgrace By making such an odious face ?" f Athenseus, lib. xiv. p. 616, ANACREON. 41 ANACREON.f Bv 5" ap' ' A.vaKpeiovra' to fiev yXvKv KeTvo fieXiff/xa Ne/crapos, els 5' eXeyovs evanopov dvOefiiov. Meleager. i. 35. Under the very indistinct emblem conveyed by a word which is applicable generally to any species of flower, but is sometimes restricted in its signification to the Rose in particular, we are here referred not to the Odes, but to the Elegies, of Anacreon. Of the well-known Collection pre- served under the former title, we shall but briefly touch upon the question of the authenticity. That a considerable portion of his lyric poetry existed in the time of Horace can hardly be doubted ; but that the odes which we now possess, and are fond of ascribing to him, are the same as those with which the Roman poet was so familiar, cannot be asserted without much hesitation, when it is obsen'ed that, of all Horace's compositions, one only (that beginning "Vitas hinnuleo me simUis Chloe,") appears to betray the principle of close imitation which he generally discovers in those parts of his works which have reference to the other lyric poets. The argument from internal evidence must, we fear, be pro- nounced even stronger than the negative inference — to the ex- tent, at least, of warranting the supposition that many entire f Anacreon Baxteri ^ Fischer. Svo, Lips. 1793, 42 ANACREON. odes, and considerable portions also of tlie remainder, are the fabrication of a later age ; although to what author, or to what period, the forgery can be assigned, remains another question, and one of far greater difficulty. If, however, we are compelled to place them among the Apocrypha of ancient poetry, we are not therefore to be blind to their rare excel- lence, or refuse them the rank which they have obtained as perhaps the most extensively popular in the whole range of classical poetry, — a merit sufficiently attested by the fre- quency of translation into every modern language, our own especially, and by the more remarkable fact that, frequent as have been the attempts, and various the degrees of suc- cess attending them, all have failed alike to exhibit any resemblance to the peculiar, and perhaps incommunicable, charm of the originals. The Paraphrases of Cowley, indeed, are possessed of many transcendent beauties ; but they are essentially his own ; while the versions of Moore, which bear a closer affinity to the Greek in spirit, are overloaded with faults and redundancies peculiarly those of the living poet, and such as even he, in his maturer judgement, would have in great measure avoided. A single imitation by Prior (quaintly entitled, "Cupid turned Stroller,") pos- sesses all the graces of his o-wn lively style. Of the elegies said to have been composed by Anacreon nothing whatever has reached us, unless that which has been printed as the sixteenth in number of liis epigrams, and of which a translation is here given, be considered as forming a portion of one of them. The remaining fifteen epigrams are short, and of the baldest simplicity. Two only are here presented by way of specimens. ANACREON. 43 ODE I. TO HIS L\TIE. cowley. I 'll sing of heroes and of kings ; In mighty numbers, mighty things : Begin, my Muse ! — but lo ! the strings To my great song rebelhous prove — The strings will sound of nought but love. I broke them all, and put on new : — 'T is this, or notliing, now will do. " These, sure, (I said,) ^viU me obey ; These, sure, heroic notes wUl play." Straight I began with thund'ring Jove, And aU th' immortal powers, but Love. Love smil'd, and from my enfeebled lyre Came gentle ayres — such as inspire Melting Love — soft Desire. Farewell, then, heroes ! farewell kings I And mighty numbers, mighty things ! Love tunes my heart just to my strings. ODE IV. THE EPICURE. cowley. Underneath this mjTtle shade. On flowery beds supinely laid, "With odorous oyls my head o'erflowing. And around it roses growing. What should I do, but drink away The heat and troubles of the day ? In this more than kingly state Love himself shall on me wait. 44 ANACREON. Fill to me, Love, nay, fill it up ! And mingled, cast into the cup Wit, and mirth, and noble fires. Vigorous health, and gay desires. The wheel of life no less will stay On a smooth than rugged way : Since it equally doth flee. Let the motion pleasant be ! Why do we precious oyixtments show'r. Nobler wines why do we pour, Beauteous flowers why do we shed. Upon the mon'ments of the dead ? Nothing they but dust can show, Or bones that hasten to be so. Crown me with roses whilst I live — Now your wines and oyntments give : After death I nothing crave. Let me alive my pleasures have ! All are stoicks in tlie grave. ODE V. THE ROSE. moore. Buds of roses, virgin flowers, Cull'd from Cupid's balmy bowers. In the bowl of Bacchus steep. Till with crimson drops they weep ! Twine the rose, the garland twine. Every leaf distilling wine ; Drink and smile, and learn to tliink We were born to smile and drink. ANACREON. 45 Rose ! thou art the sweetest flower That ever drank the amber shower. Rose ! thou art the fondest child Of dimpled Spring, the wood-nymph wild ! Ev'n the Gods, who walk the sky. Are amorous of thy scented sigh. Cupid, too, in Paphian shades, His hair with rosy fillets braids, WTien, with the blushing naked Graces, The wanton winding dance he traces. Tlien bring me showers of roses, bring ! And shed them round me while I sing. ODE XI. ON HIMSELF. cowley. Oft am I by the women told, " Poor Anacreon, thou grow'st old. Look, how thy hairs are falling all : Poor Anacreon, how they fall ! " Whether I grow old or no. By th' effects I do not know. This I know, without being told, 'T is time to live if I grow old. 'T is time short pleasures now to take, Of little life the best to make. And manage wisely the last stake. 46 ANACREON. ODE XV. HAPPY LIFE. c m. Tell me not of golden springs, And the wealth that Asia brings, Cars and crowns and precious things, To her tj^annizing kings : I will dwell in idle bowers, Crown'd my head with pleasant flowers : Loose the wine in purple showers ! Wine and beauty shall be ours ! For today I take or give ; For today I drink and live ; For today I beg or borrow : — Who knows about the silent morrow ? THE SAME. COWLEY. Fill the bowl with rosy wine ; Around our temples roses twine ; And let us cheerfully awhile Like the wine and roses smile. Crown'd with roses, we contemn Gyges' wealthy diadem. Today is ours — what do we fear ? Today is ours — we have it here. Let 's treat it kindly, that it may Wish at least with us to stay. Let 's banish business, banish sorrow ; To the Gods belongs tomorrow. ANACREON. 47 ODE XVII. THE CUP.* p. 75. m. I DO not want the rolling car. Helm or shield with silver bound — Wliat have I to do with war } But a goblet deep and round. Can-e not on its polish'd side Star, nor planet's varied form. Such as rule the angrj^ tide. Or direct the rising storm. Let a ^ine the cup surround. Clasping with its tendrils fine ; And amid the golden ground, Raise a vat of new-made wine. Then the festal chorus leading. Carve the Theban god above ; And the mellow ^'intage treading, Cupid, mth the maid I love. ODE XX. TO HIS MISTRESS. m. Sad Niobe, on Phrygian shore. Was tum'd to marble by despair ; And hapless Progne leam'd to soar On swallow's wing thro' liquid air. But I would be a mirror. So thou may'st pleas'd behold me. Or robe, with close embraces About thy limbs to fold me. 48 ANACREON, A crystal fount, to lave thee, Sweet oyls, thy hair to deck, A zone, to press thy bosom, Or pearl, to gem thy neck. Or, might I worship at thy feet, A sandal for thy feet I 'd be. Ev'n to be trodden on were sweet. If to be trodden on by thee. ODE XIX. THAT WE OUGHT TO DRINK.* p. 75. m. The black earth drinks the faUing rain ; Trees drink the moisten' d earth again ; Ocean drinks the streams that run. Only to yield them to the sun ; And the sun himself as soon Is swallow'd by the thirsty moon. All Nature drinks : if I would sip. Why dash the goblet from my lip ? THE SAME. COWLEY. The thirsty earth soaks up the rain. And drinks, and gapes for drink again. The plants suck in the earth, and are With constant drinking fresh and fair. The sea itself — which, one would think, Should have but little need of drink, ANACREON. 49 Drinks ten thousand rivers up, So fill'd, that they o'erflow the cup. Tlie busie sun — and one would guess By 's drunken fierj"^ face no less — Drinks up the sea ; and, when h'as done, Tlie moon and stars drink up the sun. They drink and dance by their own light ; Tliey drink and revel all the night. Nothing in Nature's sober found, But an eternal health goes round. Fill up the bowl, then ! fill it high ! Fill all the glasses there ! for why Should every creature drink, but I .'' — Why, man of morals ? — tell me, why .-' ODE XXXIII. TO THE SWALLOW. cowley. Foolish prater, what dost thou So early at my window do. With thy tuneless serenade ? Well 't had been had Tereus made Thee as dumb as Philomel : There his knife had done but well. In thine undiscover'd nest Thou dost aU the winter rest, And dreamest o'er thy summer joys. Free from the stormy season's noise. Free from th' ill thou 'st done to me. — Who disturbs or seeks out thee .'' Hadst thou all the charming notes Of the wood's poetick throats, D 50 ANACREON. All thy arts could ne'er repay What thou 'st ta'en from me away — Cruel hird, thou 'st ta'en away A dream out of mine arms today, A dream, that ne'er can equal'd be By all that waking eyes can see. Thou, this damage to rej^air. Nothing half so sweet or fair. Nothing half so good canst bring. Though men say, thou bring' st the Spring. ODE XXXIV. TO HIS MISTRESS.* p. 32. m. Fly not, because the hand of Time My silver' d locks discover : Nor, glorying in thy golden prime, Disdain a grey-beard lover. Think'st thou my winter ill agrees With charms thy spring discloses ? Remember how those garlands please Where lilies mix with roses ! ODE XLIII. TO THE GRASSHOPPER, cowley. Happy insect ! what can be In happiness compar'd to thee ? Fed with nourishment divine. The dewy morning's gentle wine ! Nature waits upon thee stiU, And thy verdant cup does fill ; ANACREON. 51 'T is fill'd wherever thou dost tread ; Nature's self 's thy Ganymed. Thou dost drink, and dance, and sing, Happier than the happiest king. All the fields which thou dost see. All the plants belong to thee. All that summer hours produce. Fertile made with early juice. Man for thee does sow and plow ; Farmer he, and landlord thou. Tliou dost innocently joy ; Nor does thy luxury destroy. The shepherd gladly heareth thee. More harmonious than he. Thee country hinds with gladness hear, Prophet of the ripen'd year ! Tliee Phoebus loves, and doth inspire ; Phoebus is himself thy sire. To thee, of all things upon earth, Life is no longer than thy mirth. Happy insect ! happy, thou Dost neither age nor winter know. But when thou 'st drunk, and danc'd, and sung Tliy fill, the flowery leaves among, — Voluptuous, and wise withal — Epicurean animal ! — Sated with thy summer feast, Thou retir'st to endless rest. D 2 52 ANACREON. EPIGRAMS. I. (12.B. 80.) ON THE TOMB OF TIMOCRITUS. m. TiMocRiTUS adorns this humble grave. Mars spares the coM'ard, and destroys the brave. II. (14.B. 82.) ON THE TOMB OF CLEANOR. m. Thee too, Cleanor, strong Desire laid low — Desire, that ^\Tetched exiles only know. Of thy lov'd native land. The tyrant sway Of winter had no force to make thee stay : Thy fatal hour was come ; and, tempest-sped, The wild waves clos'd around thy cherish'd head. HI. (16. B. 84.) CONVIVIAL.* p. 76. Ne'er shall that man a comrade be. Or drink a generous glass with me. Who o'er his bumpers brags of scars. Of noisy broils and mournful wars : But welcome thou congenial soul. And share my purse and drain my bowl, Who canst in social knot combine The Muse, Good-humour, Love, and Wine. CLEOBULUS. 53 CLEOBULUS t, The son of Evagoras, a native of Lindus ; and accounted one of the seven sages of Greece. He was a great com- poser of riddles, which, in those days, may possibly have been sufficient to obtain for him the reputation of wisdom which he enjoyed. He had a daughter, named Cleobuline, recorded by Diogenes Laertius as herself a poetess, Avho wTote senigmas in hexameter verses. Cleobulus is not among the poets included in Meleager's Garland ; and his name would hardly have found a place in this Collection, but by way of introduction to the parody of Simonides of his bombastic inscription on the tomb of Midas. SPOKEN BY A MONUMENTAL FIGURE SCULP- TURED ON THE TOMB OF MIDAS. m. Sculptur'd in brass, a virgin bright. On Midas' tomb I stand. While water cools — while flow'rs delight — While rivers part the land — While Ocean girds the earth around — While, with returning day, Phoebus returns, and Night is crown'd By Luna's glimmering ray — So long as these shall last, will I, A monument of woe. Declare to every passer by. That Midas sleeps below. •j- Jacobs, vol. i. p. 52. Brutick, i. 7C. 54 SIMONIDES. SIMONIDESf. veov oivavQes KXrifia Stjttwvi^ew. Meleager i. 8. From the numerous epigrams and smaller pieces, and from the still more numerous fragments of longer poems, which have been preserved under this celebrated name, it would be difficult to discover any reason for assigning to him an emblem derived from the vine, unless it be the graceful tenderness of its newborn leaves and tendrils ; in which respect, enough of evidence is still left to us that the device is not without its appropriate signification. It is with re- ference to these beautiful but melancholy remnants, and to t^e yet more scanty memorials of the preceding poets which it has been our faint attempt to exhibit in a dress of corresponding grace and simplicity, that a recent critic, himself previously distinguished by a very successful en- deavour to familiarize the splendid beauties of Homer to the mind of the classical student, has expressed himself in the following eloquent passage. " It is with respect to the wTitings of this age that the lovers of the antique Muse of Greece have the heaviest, the most irretrievable losses to deplore ; time and barbarism have here swept away more than their usual share of the great and the beautiful ; and when we take up a modern collection, f Jacobs, vol. i. p. 57. Brunck, i. p. 120. SIMONIDES. 55 and see what is now left us even of the mightiest of this tlirong of great poets, — their mutilated vigour, their dis- jointed melody, their objectless passion, — we feel our hearts swell ^vith that melancholy and vexation of spirit, which we know not that the sight of the shattered temples of Athens itself should more worthily call up, than this mourn- ful exhibition of the torsos of Archilochus, of Sappho, and of Simonidesf." We shall not here enter into the liistory of the causes to which is assigned the irrej)arable destruction thus feel- ingly lamented ; nor do we think it necessary to say more, by way of introduction to the mutilated fragments and smaller pieces, or epigrams, wliich have the name of Simonides affixed to them, than that, from the concurrent voice of antiquity, supported by internal evidence, there were at least three distinct poets known by the same ap- pellation, — that to the eldest of these, who was a native of the island Amorgos, and probably contemporary with Ar- cliilochus, is to be ascribed the long set of Iambic verses on the characters of women, with which we have at present no more to do than to caution the reader against attributing them to the second and greatest of the name, — Simonides of Ceos, the son of Leoprepes ; the date of whose birth has been fixed at 556, and of his death at 467, B. C. ; and whose memory is associated with the great events which formed the subject of the princijoal part of his remaining works. A third Simonides, a native also of Ceos, and nephew to the second. t Quart. Rev. No. XCV. p. 69,—" Greek Elegy." We cannot be wrong in ascribing the authorship of this article to Henry Nelson Cole- ridge. 56 SIMONIDES. seems to possess the best title to such at least of the epi- grams, aSj from the date of the events recorded in them, cannot be ascribed to the uncle without an anachronism. Of one hundred and seven pieces (including fragments,) which are given by Jacobs as all that exists of these two last- mentioned poets, it has been our wish to present in the dress of English verse all that appear capable of such pre- sentation; those omitted being either so merely prosaic in sen- timent, or relating to matters so purely uninteresting (such as the achievement of athletic prizes, &c.), from their same- ness of repetition, as to be well spared in translation. " To Simonides," observes the critic already quoted, "we attri- bute the invention, or, more properly, the establishment of the Elegy in its last received sense of a funereal poem. We have stiU a good many of his epigrams, but a very few lines indeed of what can properly be called his elegies. He was, past dispute, the favourite, all Greece over, for an inscrip- tion ; and such as are preserved, chiefly on those who fell in battle against the Persians, most fully justify his popu- larity in this line. They are all characterized by force, downrightness,and terse simplicity — a^eXe/a, — in the high- est degree of any to be found in the Anthology." After citing the above passages, and referring also to the well-known character assigned to Simonides, with, such ex- quisite taste, by Catullus, — " Moestius lacrymis Simonideis, — " it may be thought that he is here misplaced, and that his compositions ought rather to have been ranked, in the pre- sent Collection, among those of Mimnermus and Solon, where some of those which are more decidedly elegiac will be found. But not to mention that many of the fragments SIMONIDES. 57 are decidedly lyric, and have been constantly included (from the time of Henry Stephens downwards,) among those of the l}'Tic poets, the occurrence of his name in the Garland of Meleager is sufficient to give him a place among the bards of the Anthologia, at least with regard to so much as Jacobs has thought fit to retain. We now conclude, Avith Wordsworth — " O ye who patiently explore The wreck of Herculaneaii lore, What rapture, could ye seize Some Theban fragment, or unroll One precious, tender-hearted scroll Of pure Simonides ! " LYRIC FRAGMENTS. I. (1.) CM. .... For truly they who were of old From gods descended, as the poets told, — And half of heaven, and half of earth, — Proceeding onwards from their birth Arriv'd not at their honour'd years Unscath'd by wounds, untried by toils and tears .... II. (2.) M. Mortal, canst thou dare to say What may chance another day ? d5 58 SIMONIDES. Or, thy fellow-mortal seeing. Circumscribe his term of being ? Swifter than the insect's wings 1.^ the change of mortal things. III. (3.) M. "Whate'er of wtue or of power, Or good, or great, we vainly call, Each moment eager to devour. One vast Charybdis yawns for all. IV. (4, 5.) M. Long, long and dreary is the night That 'waits us in the silent grave : Few, and of rapid flight, The years from Death we save. Short — ah, how short ! — that fleeting space ; And when man's little race Is run, and Death's grim portals o'er him close, How lasting his repose ! V. (7.) DANAE.* p. 360. When the wind, resounding high, Bluster' d from the northern sky. When the waves, in stronger tide, Dash'd against the vessel's side. srMON[DES. 59 Her care-worn check -with tears bedew'd. Her sleeping infant Danae ^•iew'd; And trembling still with new alarms, Around him cast a mother's arms. " My child ! what woes does Danae weep ! But thy young limbs are WTapt in sleep. In that poor nook all sad and dark. While lightnings play around our bark. Thy quiet bosom only knows The hea%y sigh of deep repose. " Tlie howling wind, the raging sea. No terror can excite in thee ; The angrj' surges wake no care That burst above thy long deep hair. But couldst thou feel what I deplore, Then would I bid thee sleep the more ! Sleep on, sweet boy ; still be the deep ! Oh could I lull my woes to sleep 1 Jove, let thy mighty hand o'erthrow The baffled malice of my foe ; And may this child, in future years, Avenge his mother's wrongs and tears ! " VI. (9".) ON ORPHEUS. m. Innumerable birds around His temples fly in ceaseless motion, And fishes from the deep blue ocean Leap up, enraptur'd with the dulcet sound. 60 SIMONIDES. VII. (9''.) ON MELEAGER. m. The victory of the spear he bore From all th' assembled youth around, Who hurl'd the ponderous weapon o'er Anauros to the further shore From fair lolcos' vine-clad ground. Thus sang Meeonides ; and thus, To listening crowds, Stesichorus. VIII. (10.) REPLY TO CLEOBULUS "ON THE TOMB OF MIDAS." m. (See before, p. 53.) Who so bold To uphold What the Lindian sage hath told ? Who would dare To compare Works of men, that fleeting are, With the sweet perennial flow Of swift rivers, or the glow Of the eternal sun, or light Of the golden queen of night ? Spring renews The flow'ret's hues. With her sweet refreshing dews : Ocean wide Bids his tide With returning current glide. SIMONICES. 61 The sculptur'd tomb is but a toy Man may create, and man destroy. Eternity in stone or brass ? — Go, go ! who said it, was — an ass. IX. (11.) M. The first of mortal joys is health : Next beauty ; and the third is wealth ; The fourth, all youth's deUghts to prove With those we love. X. (12.) M. .... Who would add an hour To the narrow span That concludes the life of man ? Who would envy kings their power, Or gods their endless day. If pleasure were away ? .... XI. (13.) M. Human strength is unavailing ; Boastful tyranny unfailing ; AH in life is care and labour ; And our unrelenting neighbour. Death, for ever hovering round ; Whose inevitable wound. When he comes prepar'd to strike. Good and bad will feel alike. 62 SIMOMDES. XII. (14.) THE SEAT OF VIRTUE. m. Sages and honour'd bards of old Have said that Virtue loves to keep Upon a mountain's rocky steep ; Where those permitted to behold May stiU her awful figure trace CircUng about that holy place. But 'tis not given to mortal sight Ere wholesome sweat have purg'd away Thick mists that dim the visual ray. To soar to such a glorious height. None that are loiterers in the race May hope to see that holy place. XIII. (15.) ON THOSE WHO FELL AT THER- MOPYL^. R. In dark Thermopylae they lie ; Oh death of glory, there to die ! Their tomb an altar is, their name A mighty heritage of fame : Their dirge is triumph — cankering rust, And Time that turneth all to dust. That tomb shall never waste nor hide, — The tomb of warriors true and tried. The full-voic'd praise of Greece around Lies buried in that sacred mound : Where Sparta's king, Leonidas, In death eternal glory has. SIMOMDES. 63 EPIGRAMS. I. (19. B. 25.) ON THE MEN OF TEGEA. m. 'TwAS by their valour that to heav'n ascended No curling smoke from Tegea's ravag'd field ; Who chose — so as the town their arms defended They to their sons a heritage might yield Inscrib'd with freedom's ever-blooming name — Themselves to perish in the ranks of fame. II. (20. B. 26.) ON OTHRYADES. m. O NATIVE Sparta ! when we met the host In equal combat from th' Inachian coast. Thy brave three hundred never turn'd aside. But where our feet first rested, there we died. The words, in blood, that stout Othrj'ades Wrought on his herald shield, were only these — " Thyrea is Lacedaemon's ! " — If there fled One Argive from the slaughter, be it said, Of old Adrastus he hath learn'd to fly. We count it death to falter, not to die. III. (21.B. 27.) ON THE DEATH OF HIPPAK- CHUS. M. Fair was the light, that brighten'd as it grew. Of freedom on Athena's favour'd land. When him, the tyrant, bold Harmodius slew, Link'd with Aristogeiton, hand in hand. 64 snioNiDES. IV. (22. B. 28.) ON A STATUE OF PAN, m. (erected by miltiades after the battle of marathon.) The cloven-footed deity, Dread king of sylvan Arcady, Th' Athenian's hope — the Persian's fear — Miltiades has station'd here. V. (24. B. 30.) ON A COLUMN AT THERMO- PYL^. H. Stranger ! to Sparta say, her faithful band Here lie in death, remembering her command. VI. (25. B. 31.) ON MEGISTIAS THE SOOTH- SAYER. * p. 301. M. This tomb records Megistias' honour'd name. Who, bravely fighting in the ranks of Fame, Fell by the Persians, near Sperchius' tide. Both past and future well the prophet knew ; And yet, though death lay open to his \aew. He chose to perish by his monarch's side. VII. (26. B. 32.) ON THOSE WHO FELL AT THERMOPYLAE. * p. 302. b. Greatly to die — if this be glory's height — For the fair meed we own our fortune kind. For Greece and Liberty we plung'd to night. And left a never-dying name behind. SIMON IJDES. 65 VIII. (27. B. 33.) THE SAME SUBJECT, .m. These, for their native land, through death's dark shade Who freely passed, now deathless glory wear. They die not ; but, by Virtue's sovereign aid, Are borne from Hades to the upper air. IX. (30. B. 36.) THE CORINTHIAN WOMEN TO VENUS. M. For those who, fighting on their country's side, Oppos'd th' imperial Mede's advancing tide. We, votaresses, to Cythera pray'd. Th' indulgent power vouchsaf 'd her timely aid. And kejDt the citadel of Hellas free From rude assaults of Persia's archery. X. (32. B. 38.) ON THE VICTORY AT SALAMIS. m. Democritus was third in place on that auspicious day, WTien Greeks with Persians mingled on the waves in dire affray : Five hostile barks he caj^tur'd then ; the sixth, that late was ta'en By foes barbaric, he redeem'd, and gave to Greece again. XI. (33. B. 39.) ON THE CORINTHIANS WHO FELL AT SALAMIS. c. m. We dwelt of yore in Corinth, by the deep : In Salamis (Ajacian Isle) we sleep, llie ships of Tyre we routed on the sea. And Persia, — warring, holy Greece ! for thee. 66 SIMONIDES. XII. (35. B.41.) ON ADEIMANTUS. m. Here Adeimantus rests — the same was he Whose counsels won for Greece the crown of liberty. XIII. (40.B.46.) ON CIMON'S NAVAL VICTORY, m. Ne'er since that olden time when Asia stood First torn from Europe by the ocean flood. Since horrid Mars first pour'd on either shore The storm of battle, and its wild uproar. Hath man by land and sea such glory won As for the mighty deed this day was done. By land, the Medes in myiiads press the ground ; By sea, a hundred Tyrian ships are drown'd. With all their martial host ; while Asia stands Deep groaning by, and wrings her helpless hands. XIV. (41.B.47.) ON THOSE WHO FELL AT THE EURYMEDON. m. These by the streams of fam'd Eurymedon Their envied youth's short brilliant race have run : In swift-wing'd ships, and on th' embattled field, AHke they forc'd the Median bows to yield, Breaking their foremost ranks. Now here they lie. Their names inscrib'd on rolls of victory. SIMONIDES. 6" XV. (42. B. 48.) ON THE SAME. r. Ix life-blood streaming from those stubborn hearts The lord of war once bath'd his barbed darts. Where are those warriors, patient of the spear ? Dust — soulless, lifeless dust — alone lies here. XVI. (43. B. 49.) ON A TROPHY (suspended in the temple of MINERVA.) Fro-m wound and death they rest — this bow and quiver- Beneath Minerva's holy roof for ever : Once did their shafts along the battle speed. And drink the life-blood of the charging Mede. XVII. (44. B. 50.) ON A VOTIVE SPEAR, m. Good ashen spear, that erst this arm did wield, And hurl, fierce hissing thro' the battle field ! Now, peaceful resting in the sacred grove. Thou lead'st the pomp of Panomphsean Jove. XVIII. (45. B. 51.) ON THE ATHENIANS (who fell at the commencement of the peloponnesian WAR.) M. Hail, great in war ! all hail, by glory chcrish'd ! Athena's sons, in chivalry renown' d ! For your sweet native soil in youth ye perish'd. When Hellas leagued in hostile ranks was found. 68 SUIONIDES. XIX. (46. B. 52.) ON THE ATHENIANS WHO FELL IN EUBCEA DURING THE PELOPONNE- SIAN WAR. M. Is thy hollow recess, rugged Dirphe, we fell ; By wide-rolling Euripus our monument stands ; Nor false is the story it seemeth to tell. How our sun set in clouds o'er those far distant sands. XX. (47. B. 53.) ON ARCHEDICE, DAUGHTER OF HIPPIAS. *p. 301. M. Daughter of him who rul'd th' Athenian plains. This honour'd dust Archedice contains. Of tyrants, mother, daughter, sister, wife — Her mind was modest, and unstain'd her life. XXI. (48. B. 54.) ON ANACREON. r. Sweet queen of autumn, mother of the wine. Trail thy green tresses, sorrow- soothing Vine, Thy waving tendrils, round the pillar'd stone Above the grave where sleeps Anacreon ! That he, the bard that led the tipsy choir The livelong night, and struck the joyous lyre. May yet, tho' dead, around his brows entwine A wreath of grapes, a garland from the vine. Breathe o'er his tomb thy sweet and dewy rain : Who rests below once wak'd a sweeter strain. « SIMOXIDES. 69 XXII. (49. B. 55.) ON THE SAME. r. Behold where Teos shrouds her minstrel son. The deathless bard, the lost Anacreon ! Whose raptur'd numbers, wing'd with soft desire. Did all the Graces, all the Loves inspire. For this alone he grieves within the grave ; Not that the sun is dark on Lethe's wave, But that Megiste's eyes he may not see. Nor, Thressa, still look wistfully on thee. StiU he remembers music's honey'd breath ; Still wakes the lyre beneath the house of death. XXIII. (53. B. 59.) ON THE TOMB OF A MUR- DERED MAN. R. O HOLY Jove ! — my murderers, may they die A death like mine — my buriers live in joy ! XXIV. (54. B. 60.) ON HIS PRESERVATION FROM DEATH BY AN APPARITION. b. Behold the Bard's preserver ! — from the grave The spectre came, the living man to save. XXV. (55. B. 61.) ON TIMOCREON OF RHODES, m. After much eating, drinking, lying, slandering, Timocreon of Rhodes here rests from wandering. 70 SIMONIDES. XXVI. (56. B. 62.) ON A BRIDGE OVER THE CEPHISUS. R. Still wend your way, ye mystic votaries. To Ceres' shrine, nor dread the wintry tide : For you the Lindian stranger Xenocles Hath built this causeway o'er Cephisus wide. XXVII. (57. B. 63.) AN OFFERING TO VENUS. * p. 426. M. CffiLiA and Lyce, erst by lovers known, To Venus vow the picture and the zone. Merchant and factor I let your purse proclaim Both whence the zone, and whence the picture came. XXVm. (58.B..64.) A WARNING TO SAILORS, m. Three roving vessels of the C}T^)rian trade Here, on these noted shoals, have shipwreck made Of three brave mariners, and naked sped From port to port, to beg their daily bread. Sailors, be warn'd ! — How bright soe'er she be, Venus can cheat you, like her mother sea. XXIX. (59.B. 65.) ON A DOG. r. Dead though thou art, thy whitening relics here Still, Lycas, still the woodland stag shall fear ; Cithseron saw thee in thy fiery flight. And Pelion's waste, and Ossa's scarped height. SIMOXIDES. 71 XXX. (60. B. 6G.) ON A FEMALE VICTOR AT THE OLYMPIC GAMES. r. My sire, my brethren Sparta's princes are ; Mine were the coursers, mine the conqu'ring car : 'Twas I, Cynisca, I that rais'd this stone, I won the wreath, 'mid Grecian maids alone. XXXI. (84. B. 90.) ON A STATUE OF CUPID BY PRAXITELES. * p. 369. h. Well has the sculptor felt what he express'd ; He drew the living model from his breast. Will not his Phrj^ne the rare gift approve, Me for myself exchanging, love for love } Lost are my fabled bow and magic dart ; But, only gaz'd upon, I win the heart. XXXII. (86. B. 92.) INSCRIBED ON A CENO- TAPH. R. O CLOUD-CAPT Geraneia, rock unblest ! Would thou hadst reared far hence thy haughty crest. By Tanais wild, or wastes where Ister flows ; Nor looked on Sciron from thy silent snows ! A cold, cold corpse he lies beneath the wave. This tomb speaks, tenantless, his ocean grave. 72 SIMONIDES. XXXIII. (89. B. 95.) EPITAPH. A LAND not thine hath shed its dust o'er thee, A fated wanderer o'er the Pontic sea : No joys for thee of sweet regretted home ; To sea-girt Chios thou didst never come. XXXIV. (90. B. 96.) EPITAPH. Shame, glorious shame beside Theaerus' wave Brought Cleodamus to his honour'd grave 'Mid Thracian lances : for his father's name The warrior son hath gained immortal fame. XXXV. (91.B. 97.) EPITAPH. m. These, as the spoUs of Tyrrhene war, to Phoebus' hallowed dome They bore away, one sea receiv'd, one vessel and one tomb. XXXVI. (95, 94. B. 101, 100.) FRAGMENTS OF AN ELEGY. ANON. (Quart. Rev. ubi supra.) Grievous disease ! why enviest thou to men In lovely youth to stay ? Amercing young Timarchus of his life Before his nuptial day ? SIMONIDES. /ri He, in liis father's arms embrac'd. Thus gasp'd with failing breathy — O Timenorides, forget me not. Thy virtuous child, in death ! " XXXVII. (98. B. 104.) FRAGMENT OF AN ELEGY. * p. 185. M. All human things are subject to decay ; And well the man of Chios tun'd his lay, — " Like leaves on trees the race of man is found" — Yet few receive the melancholy sound. Or in their breasts imprint this solemn truth ; For Hope is near to all, but most to youth. Hope's vernal season leads the laughing hours, And strews o'er every path the fairest flowers : To cloud the scene no distant mists apjiear. Age moves no thought, and death awakes no fear. Ah, how unmindful is the giddy crowd Of the small span to youth and life allow'd ! Ye who reflect, the short-liv'd good employ. And while the power remains, indulge your joy. XXXVIII. (99. B. 105.) ON SNOW SERVED AT A BANQUET. c. m. With this the sharp north wind, rushing from Thrace, Hath strown Olympus to his giant base. And vex'd the cloakless wanderer's soul, while deep It lay beneath the cleft and crannied steep : But here the feast its tempering breath demands. For draughts prefcrr'd by hos])itablc hands. 74 SIMONIDES. XXXIX. (106. B. 112.) THE OFFERING OF THE PRIEST OF CYBELE. m. From winter snows descending fiercely round, The priest of Cybele a shelter found Beneath a desert cliff, that beetling stood O'er the wild margin of the ocean flood. Here, as he wrung the moisture from his hair, He saw, advancing to his secret lair. With hunger fierce, and horrid to behold. The grim destroyer of the nightly fold. Then, aU dismay'd, the sacred drum he shook With wide-extended hand, and wildly struck. — He struck : the hollow cave, within, around, On every side, rebeUow'd to the sound. Tlie forest's lord, o'ercome with holy dread, Back to his native woods, loud howling, fled — Fled from that trembhng votary. — He, in praise Of her, whose power redeem'd his forfeit days. Now hangs these locks, and garments wet with brine, (For his deliverance due,) at Rhsea's shrine. BACCHYLIDES. 75 BACCHYLIDES. f Aei^avd r evKapirevvra neXiffTOLKTbJv dirb 'Movrruiv, 'SavQois eK KaXdfiris BaKxvXiSe. E 2 'JQ BACCHYLIDES. 'Tis not for man's feeble race These to shun, or those embrace. But that all- disposing Fate Which presides o'er mortal state, Where it listeth, casts its shroud Of impenetrable cloud. II. (2.) M. Of happiness to mortal man One is the road, and one the goal, — To keep unburthen'd, all he can. From loads of care the tranquil soul. But whoso toileth night and day. Nor day nor night permits sweet rest To steal him from himself away. Or still the fever of his breast. Nought will it profit, though he bear On gloomy brow the stamp of care. III. (4.) TRUTH. * p. 1-22. m. As gold the Lydian touch-stone tries. So man — the \drtuous, valiant, wise — Must to all-powerful truth submit His virtue, valour, and his wit. IV. (7, 6.) M. Not to be born 't were best. Nor view the Hght o' th' sun ; Since to be ever blest BACCHYLIDES. Is giv'n to none ; And Fate deals out his share. To each alike, of pain and care. V. (8.) Happy, to whom the gods have giv'n a share Of what is good and fair ; A life that 's free From dire mischance and ruthless poverty. To live exempt from care. Is not for mortal man, how blest soe'er he be. VI. (9.) PEACE. * p. 188. For thee, sweet Peace, Abundance leads along Her jovial train, and bards awake to song. On many an altar, at thy glad return. Pure victims bleed, and holy odours burn ; And frolic youth their happy age apply To graceful movements, sports, and minstrelsy. Dark spiders weave their webs within the shield ; Rust eats the spear, the terror of the field ; And brazen trumpets now no more affright The silent slumber and repose of night. Banquet, and song, and revel fill the ways. And youths and maidens sing their roundelays. VII. (10.) ON THE DEATH OF A CHILD. Alas, poor chUd ! for thee our bosoms swell With grief, tears cannot cure, words may not tell. 11 M. M. 78 BACCHYLIDBS. VIII. (11.) ANACREONTIC. h. m. Thirsty comrade ! wouldst thou know All the raptures that do flow From those sweet compulsive rules Of our ancient drinking schools — First, the precious draught shall raise Amorous thoughts in giddy maze. Mingling Bacchus' present treasure With the hopes of higher pleasure. Next, shall chase through empty air All th' intolerant host of Care ; Give thee conquest, riches, power ; Bid thee scale the guarded tower ; Bid thee reign o'er land and sea With unquestion'd sov'reignty. Thou thy palace shalt behold, Bright with ivory and gold ; While each ship that ploughs the main, Fill'd with Egypt's choicest grain. Shall unload her pond'rous store. Thirsty comrade ! at thy door. IX. (12.) HERCULES TO CEYX. c. m. . . He stood upon the threshold stone While the feast was serving up. And said, "The righteous ever run Unbought, unbidden, every one. To where their fellows sup." .... BACCHYLIDES. 79 X. (13.) M. Here no fatted oxen be. Gold, nor puqile tapestry : But a well-disposed mind ; But a gentle muse, and kind ; But bright wine to glad our souls. Mantling in Boeotian bowls. XI. (14.) ON THE TEMPLE OF PALLAS ITONIA. m. Folded arms and saunt'ring pace Come not nigh this holy place. She whose image here is seen. Golden- JEgis-bearing queen. Dread Itonia, doth ordain ^ For the suppliants at her fane Other services than these, — Tributes rare from bended knees. XII. (15.) M. Virtue, plac'd on high, doth shine With a glory all divine. Riches oft alike are shower' d On the hero and the coward. XIII. (16.) M. The high immortal gods are free From taint of man's infirmity ; Nor pale diseases round them wait. Nor pain distracts their tranquil state. 80 BACCHYLIDES. XIV. (17.) M. Wise-men now, like those of old, Can but tell what others told. Full hard it is the hidden door Of words unspoken to explore. EPIGRAMS. XV. (19.) ON A POETICAL PRIZE. m. O SOVEREIGN Pallantean progeny ! Thou many-titled. Virgin Victory ! Long, long may'st thou behold with fav'ring eyes The bright Cransean choir : and when the prize Of song the Muses have adjudg'd, bestow Thy wreath, to grace the Cean poet's brow. XVI. (20.) THE HUSBANDMAN'S OFFERING. * p. 423. m. To Zephyr, kindest wind, that swells the grain, Eudemus consecrates this humble fane ; For that he listen'd to his vows, and bore On his soft wings the rich autumnal store. SCOLIA OF VARIOUS POETS. 81 SCOLIA OF VARIOUS POETS, f The true definition of the Greek Scolium appears to be, n short ode, or lyric composition, made to be sung or recited at banquets. Many of those which remain to us under that title, have the appearance of being struck off at the mo- ment, after the manner of the Italian improvisatori. They are often irregular in respect of metre, (whence, perhaps, the name assigned to them, from o-coXios, crooked,) and, in point of subject, are rarely of the convivial cast which might be imagined from the occasion which produced them, but generally confined to some brief moral sentence or apo- phthegm, some patriotic action, or the celebration of the praises of some hero or deity. Their nature will be made more evident by the following specimens, among which the famous song of Harmodius and Aristogeiton is the most pro- minent. It may seem, however, to be carrying the love of classification too far to say (with Casaubon in his Animad- versions on Athenseus, lib. xv.) that they were invariably confined to the illustration of some proverbial truth or adage ; and that, for instance, the remarkable poem just mentioned is to be regarded in no other light than as in- tended to inculcate the maxim, that prudence is fit to be resorted to in aid of every human undertaking. To say no- thing of the bald insipidity of such a notion, it seems to be still more at variance with the character of several others in the list of ScoHa ; although whether some of these be pro- t Jacobs, vol. i. p. 87. Biuiick, i. p. 154. E 5 82 SCOLIA OF VARIOUS POETS. perly included in that list may appear to admit of a ques- tion, as, for example, the beautiful hymn or ode to Health, which may be more fitly regarded as a Psean. And, again, it may be thought that several of the smaller pieces of Sappho, Alcseus, Simonides, and Bacchylides, cited as Fragments, ought rather to be regarded as Scolia, since they come precisely within the more general definition of the term. Thus, in fact, the distich which, following Bishop Blom- field, we have given as fifth in number among our trans- lations of Sappho's fragments, is inserted by Jacobs among the Scolia, and ascribed by him to Praxilla of Sicyon. On the other hand, though generally of a moral, they were not unusually also of the convivial or festive character, possi- bly as being made in honour of Bacchus ; and, when so considered, are perhaps more properly to be ranked under the description of Pseans ; which last term, as Casaubon has shown, is by no means to be restricted to its original mean- ing, of a hymn in praise of Apollo, but may be extended to embrace any lyric composition in honour of the gods, made to be sung at certain solemnities, or for the purpose of re- citation, and with musical accompaniments. I. (1.) BY PITTACUS: CM. (One of the Seven Sages, a native of Mitylene, where he attained supreme power, and contemporary with Alcseus and Sappho.) March, with bow and weU-stock'd quiver Arm'd, against the wicked wight ; SCOLIA OP VARIOUS POETS. 83 For his tongue is faithless ever, Words and thoughts just opposite. II. (2.) BY THE SAME. m. The wise with jirudent thought provide Against misfortune's coming tide. Tlie vahant, when the surge beats high, Undaunted brave its tyranny. III. (3.) BY BIAS : m. (Another of the Seven Sages, a native of Priene ; who was li\'ing at the time of the conquest of Ionia by the Persians, B. C. 544.) Whilst in the city 'tis your wish to dwell, Seek how to please aU men of each estate : Thus may you prosper. Hate and Discord fell Too oft pursue the proud and obstinate. IV. (4.) UNCERTAIN. m. 'Tis best from land to watch the raging sea. If so you may, and have the pow'r. But if you chance on the wild waves to be. Then make the best o' th' present hour. V. (.5.) ANOTHER. m. O THAT we had the art to know Each man by more than outward show, — M, 84 SCOLIA OF VARIOUS POETS. To ope the door of every breast. And see the soul's most secret place ; Then close it fast, — and, thus possess'd, Cling to our friends with strict embrace I VI. (6.) ANOTHER : (on the alcm^onid^, slaix at leipsydrion.) Wo, wo to thee, Leipsydrion, Betrayer of the brother-band ! How brave were they thou 'st overthrown — How worthy of their native land — How proud the fathers, who may own For children such a patriot band ! VII. (7.) THE SONG OF HARMODIUS. * p. 122. BY CALLISTRATt'S. D. (" Num verendum erat ne quis tyrannidem Pisistratidarum Athenis instaurare auderet, ubi in omnibus conviviis, et seque ab infima plebe in compitis, quotidie cantitaretur SraXiov iUud Callistrati nescio cujus, sed ingeniosi certe poetpe, et valde boni civis ?" — Lowth, de Sacr. Poes. Hebr. p. 13, — where it is also observed that tliis most remark- able poem had by some been ascribed to Alcaeus, but by a strange anachronism, since that poet flourished eighty years before the event it commemorates. Of the name of Calli- stratus we find mention of two, — one, the son of Empedus, recorded by Pausanias as having fallen in the expedition of Nicias to Sicily, B. C.413, — the other, son of CaUicrates, SCOLIA OF VARIOUS POETS. 85 and a distinguished Athenian orator, who flourished from B. C. 377 to 356. Whether either of these was the author of the Hymn to Harmodius, must be left to conjecture. If the first of the two, the composition of the poem must be referred to a period of nearly a century after the death of Hipparchus, by the hands of the Athenian patriots, B. C. 514. But, though unwilling to ascribe it to a more recent period, we must not omit mention of a third Callistratus, the author of various pieces of poetry and poetical criticism, quoted by Athenseus and others, a list of which is given (vol. ii. p. 530) by Mr. Fjnies Clinton, who fixes hira at B. C. 154. I 'll -v^Teathe my sword in myrtle bough, ITie sword that laid the tyrant low. When patriots, burning to be free. To Athens gave equality. Harmodius, hail ! though 'reft of breath. Thou ne'er shalt feel the stroke of death ; The heroes' happy isles shall be The bright abode allotted thee. I '11 wreathe my sword in myrtle bough. The sword that laid Hipparchus low. When at Minerva's adverse fane He knelt, and never rose again. While Freedom's name is understood. You shall delight the wise and good ; You dar'd to set your country free. And gave her laws Equality. 86 SCOLIA OF VARIOUS POETS. ANOTHER TRANSLATION OF THE SAME. d. In myrtle my sword will I wreathe. Like our patriots the noble and brave, Who devoted the tyrant to death. And to Athens equality gave. Lov'd Harmodius, thou never shalt die ! The poets exultingly tell Tliat thine is the fullness of joy Where Achilles and Diomed dwell. In mjTtle my sword wUl I wreathe, Like our patriots the noble and brave, Who devoted Hipparchus to death, And buried his pride in the grave. At the altar the tyrant they seiz'd. While Minerva he vainly implor'd, And the Goddess of Wisdom was pleas'd With the victim of Liberty's sword. May your bhss be immortal on high. Among men as your glory shall be ! Ye doom'd the usurper to die, And bade our dear country be free. VIII. (8.) A P^AN. M. lo Pan ! we sing to thee, King of famous Arcady ! Mighty dancer ! follower free Of the nymphs, 'mid sport and glee ! SCOLIA OF VARIOUS POETS. 87 lo Pan ! sing merrily To our merry minstrelsy ! We have gain'd the victory, "We are all we wish'cl to be, And keep with pomp and pageantry Pandrosos' great mystery. IX. (9.) ANOTHER. m. Pallas Tritonia ! sov'reign power ! Defend thy lov'd Athenian tower ! Raise and protect thy cherish'd state From civil war and stern debate ! Thou, and thy sire, her cliildren save From doom of an untunely grave ! X. (15.) PROVERBIAL. m. Beneath each stone a scorpion lies : Comrade, hold, if thou be wise ; And, lest it seize thee, have a care I Ever i' th' dark suspect a snare. XI. (16.) ANOTHER. m. Whoso, in this our evil day. Will not his dearest friend betray. Right worthy is, in my esteem. That gods and men should honour'd deem. 88 SCOLIA OF VARIOUS POETS. XII. (18.) * p. 77. ANON. Quaff with me the purple wine. And in youthful pleasures join ; Crown with me thy flowing hair ; With me love the hlooming fair : When sweet madness fires my soul, Thou shalt rave without control ; When I'm sober, sink with me Into dull sobriety. XIII. (19.) M. I WISH I were an ivory IjTe — A lyre of bumish'd ivory — That to the Dionysian choir Blooming boys might carry me ! Or would I were a chalice bright. Of virgin gold by fire untried — For virgin chaste as morning light To bear me to the altar side. XIV. (22.) THE SOLDIER'S RICHES. * p. 124. BY HYBRIAS OF CRETE. M. (Of this author the name and country alone are preserved to us ; but the poem being classed by Athenseus together with most of the preceding Scolia, may be reasonably re- ferred to a like early date. It should be added, however, that the name Hybreas, without any particulars connected with it, is inserted by Mr. Clinton in his list of Greek SCOLIA OF VARIOUS POETS. 89 authors (vol. ii. p. 548), and the date, B. C. 40, 31, assigned to it.) My riches are the arms I M'ield, The spear, the sword, the shagg-y shield. My bulwark in the battle-field : With this I plough the furrow'd soil, With this I share the reaper's toil, With this I press the generous juice That rich and sunny vines produce ; With these, of rule and high command I bear the mandate in my hand ; For while the slave and coward fear To wdeld the buckler, sword, and spear. They bend the supplicating knee, And own my just supremacy. XV. (23.) A P^AN. * p. 159. BY ARIPHRON OF SICYON. B, (The same ignorance awaits us as to the date and particu- lars of the history of tins poet, as of the preceding.) Health, brightest visitant from Heav'n, Grant me with thee to rest ! For the short term by nature giv'n. Be thou my constant guest ! For all the pride that wealth bestows. The pleasure that from children flows, Whate'er we court in regal state That makes men covet to be great ; 90 SCOLIA OP VARIOUS POETS. Whatever sweet we hope to find In love's delightful snares. Whatever good by Heav'n assign' d, Whatever pause from cares, — All flourish at thy smile divine ; The spring of loveliness is thine. And every joy that warms our hearts With thee approaches and departs. XVI. RICHES. * p. 122. BY TIMOCREON OF RHODES t : H. (Classed by Suidas, but apparently without reason, among the writers of the old comedy ; wliile he is mentioned by Atheneeus and Plutarch as a victor in atliletic games, and at the same time as a lyric poet and a satirist ; in which last ca- pacity he is said to have made both Tliemistocles and Simo- nides the objects of his ridicule, and to have undergone for that off'ence the poetical chastisement of an epitaph inflict- ed on him by one of the ofi'ended parties. See ante, p. 69.) Blinded Plutus ! didst thou dwell Nor in land, nor fathom'd sea. But only in the depths of hell — God of riches ! safe from thee, Man himself might happy be. f Jacobs, vol. i. p. 80. Brunck, i. p. 148. SCOLIA OF VARIOUS POETS. 91 XVII. HYMN TO VIRTUE. BY ARISTOTLE, t F. (This remarkable poem, ■\vliich there is every reason to be- lieve the genuine composition of the great philosopher whose name it bears, is here inserted on account of its resemblance in character to some of the preceding ScoHa, and as completing our present series of Lyric Remains. Its authenticity ajipears to be confirmed by the story, which is connected with it, as related by Diogenes Laertius, — that the philosopher underwent an accusation on the charge of impiety, for composing and daily reciting a hymn or paean in honour of his patron Hermias, t}Tant of Atarnse, an eunuch, and originally a slave. (See Bentley, Phileleuth. Lips. §. 47.) It remains only to be noticed that Aristotle was born B. C. 384, and died B. C. 322, twenty-five years after the death of Plato, who was born B. C. 429.) O SOUGHT with ton and mortal strife By those of human birth. Virtue, thou noblest end of life. Thou goodliest gain on earth ! Thee, Maid, to win, our youth would bear. Unwearied, fiery pains ; and dare Death for thy beauty's worth ; So bright thy proff'er'd honours shine. Like clusters of a fruit divine. f Jacobs, vol. i. p. 110. Brunck, i. p. 177. 92 SCOLIA OF VARIOUS POETS. Sweeter than slumber's boasted joys, And more desir'd than gold, Dearer than nature's dearest ties : — For thee those heroes old, Herculean son of highest Jove, And the twin-birth of Leda, strove By perUs manifold : Pehdes' son with like desire. And Ajax, sought the Stygian fire. Tlie bard shall crown with lasting bay, And age immortal make Atarna's sovereign, 'reft of day For thy dear beauty's sake : Him therefore the recording Nine In songs extol to heights divine, And every chord awake ; Promoting still, with reverence due. The meed of friendship, tried and true. END OF PART I. PART II. CONTAINING SPECIMENS OF THE POETS COMPRISED IN MELEAGER'S GARLAND. ^SCHYLUS.f A NAME more illustrious, "with which to commence this se- 4 cond division, could not be found than that of ^schylus, the date of whose birth (B. C. 525) corresponds with the second year of the reign of Hipparchus at Athens ; the pe- riod of the first arrival of Simonides and Anacreon in that city. His first tragic exhibitions took place when he was about twenty-five years of age (B. C. 499) ; and he lived, as Mr. FyTies Clinton has been at considerable pains to prove, till 456, when he had nearly attained that of seventy. At the same time, however, that we adopt the two following epigrams as having been ascribed to him, it must be ob- served that the evidence in favour of their genuineness is, at least, very equivocal. He appears to have died at the court of Hiero, to which he had retired some years pre- viously ; disgusted, says the tradition, by the triumph of t Jacobs, vol. i. p. 81. Bruiick, ii. p. 523. 94 ^SCHYLUS. Sophocles, to whom the first prize in tragedy was awarded, when yet a young man, in preference to his veteran com- petitor ; on which account also, he is said to have written, or caused to be written, the Epitaph which forms the se- cond of the two following pieces, " making mention only of his share in the victory of Marathon, without any allu- sion to his dramatic excellencies." The Anthologia contains also an Epigram by each of his great successors and rivals in tragedy, Sophocles and Euri- pides, both at least equally questionable, and neither worthy of preservation. I. (1.) ON THOSE WHO FELL AT THERMOPYL^. cm. These, too, defenders of their country, fell, — These mighty souls to gloomy death betray'd: Immortal is their fame, who, suffering well. Of Ossa's dust a glorious garment made. n. (2.) EPITAPH FOR HLMSELF. c. m. Athenian ^schylus, Euphorio's son, Buried in Gela's fields, these lines declare : His deeds are register'd at Marathon, KnowTi to the deep-hair'd Mede who met him there. EMPEDOCLES. 95 EMPEDOCLES.t Two epigrams remain to us, bearing the name of this cele- brated pliilosopher and naturalist, who was a native of Agri- gentum, and flourished about the eighty-first Olympiad, B. C. 455. Both are distinguished by the use of "the figure Paronomasia, or Pun," — a peculiarity in which the gravest sages of antiquity appear to have been very conversant, and (with the illustrious Martin Scriblerus,) to have ranked among the principal beauties of composition. The first is a single couplet, abounding in graces of this description : 'AKpov iciTpov" AKpuiv , ' AKpayavr'ivov, iraTpos ctKpov, KpvTrrei Kpt][ivb9 aKpos TruTpiSos aKporcirt]?. The second presents us, in the name " Pausanias," with an opportunit}'' of preserving in a translation one at least of the brace of double meanings contained in the original. We give it, not more on account of the celebrity of its author, than as a specimen of this sort of punning epigram. EPITAPH ON A PHYSICIAN. m. Pavsakias — not so nam'd without a cause. As one who oft has giv'n to pain a. pause — Blest son of ^sculapius, good and wise, Here, in his native Gela, buried lies ; Who many a wretch once rescu'd by his charms From dark Persephone's constraining arms. f Jacobs, vol. i. p. 95. Brunck, i. p. 163. 96 EUENUS. EUENUS.t There were at least three poets of different ages, whose remains are confounded together, under this name, in the several editions of the Anthology, although, in all, they amount to no more than sixteen in number. The first in date of these several contributors was a native of Paros, and an author of Elegies, of which it is possible that some of the pieces now recognised as Ei^igrams are merely fragments. The date assigned him on the authority of Eusebius is the third year of the eighty- second Olympiad, B. C. 450 ; and to lum must, it is conceived, be at all events attributed the short moral and proverbial sentences (most of them single lines, or couplets,) which constitute the first six in the col- lection. To these we would willingly add, for its exquisite grace and elegance, the thirteenth — -Ardi Kopa iiekidpen-e, — of which a version is here attempted. Of the two later poets of this name, the date of one is referred to the 138th Olympiad (B. C. 228), of the other to a still more recent period. I. (3.) ON THE VICE OF CONTRADICTION, m. In contradiction, wrong or right, Do many place their sole delight. •f- Jacobs, vol. i. p. 96. Brunck, i. p. 164. EUENUS. 97 If right, 't is well — if wrong, why so — But contradict whate'er you do. Such reasoners desen'e, I hold, No argument save that of old — " You say 'tis black — / say, 'tis white — And so, good Sir, you 're answer'd quite." Far different is the aspect seen Of modest Wisdom's quiet mien — Patient, and soon to be persuaded. When argument by truth is aided. II. (7.) THE VINE AND THE GOAT. m. Though thou shouldst gnaw me to the root. Destructive goat ! — enough of fruit I bear, betwixt thy horns to shed, When to the altar thou art led. HI. (13.) THE SWALLOW AND THE GRASSHOPPER, m. Attic Maiden, breathing still Of the fragrant flowers that blow On Hymettus' purpled hiU, Whence the streams of honey flow ; Wherefore thus a captive bear To your nest the grasshopper ? Noisy prattler, cease to do To your fellow-prattler wrong : 98 EUENUS. Kind should not its kind pursue, — Least of all the heirs of song. Prattler ! seek some other food For your noisy prattling hrood. Both are ever on the wing, Wanderers both in foreign bowers, Both succeed the parting spring. Both depart with summer hours. — Those who love the minstrel lay Should not on each other prey. IV. (14.) ON THE RUINS OF TROY. c. m. Time's ashes, on my turrets shed. Have worn their pride away : I was that Ilion of whom men have read In Homer's living lay! No more shall Argive sword and spear My brazen bvilwark shake: But in the voice of nations loud and clear My monument I make. V. (15.) " MIX WATER WITH YOUR WINE." cm. Water your wine in moderation — There 's grief, or madness, in a strong potation : For 'tis young Bacchus' chiefest pleasure To move with Naiads three in linked measure : 'T is then he is good company For sports, and loves, and decent jollity. But, when alone, avoid his breath ! He breathes not love, but sleep — a sleep like death. SIMMIAS OF THEBES. 99 SIMMIAS OF THEBES.t This author, distinguished from another of the same name, who was a Rhodian, by that of his country, is supposed to be the same that is mentioned among the intimate friends of Socrates who were present at his death, B. C. 399 ; but whether to him, or to his namesake, is to be as- signed the place in Meleager's Garland indicated by the words (3p(o-))r a-xpaca liijifiieu) (Mel. i. 30.), " the wild pear of Simmias," must be left to conjecture. There are only two Epigrams ascribed to tliis Theban Simmias, both in honour of Sojohocles. We give the best of the two in the well-known version of the Spectator. (2.) ON SOPHOCLES. * p. 298. anon. Wind, gentle evergreen, to form a shade Around the tomb where SoiDhocles is laid. Sweet ivy, lend thine aid ; and intertwine With blushing roses, and the clustering vine. Thus shall thy lasting leaves, with beauties hung, Prove grateful emblems of the lays he sung. t Jacobs, i. p. 100. Brunck, i. p. 168. F 2 100 PLATO. PLATO.f Tsal Lu)i> Kcii \pvaeiov del Oeioio YlXdrioi'os KXiova, Toi' eg dperns -KavroOi Xaf.i7r6i-iepov. — Meleager, i. 47. This emblem of the golden bougli resplendent on every side with virtue, accompanied by the epithet "divine," suffici- ently indicates that the greatest of heathen philosophers is the Plato here intended, and consequently proves thatMelea- ger's Anthology comprised some verses which were, or Avere at least reputed to be, of his composition. Of the thirty Epigrams printed in Jacobs's collection, one is elsewhere ascribed to Asclepiades ; and some recent German commen- tators have thrown doubts on the genuineness of several others. But, if the ground of rejection be merely the light and trivial nature of most of the subjects, as deemed unworthy of so exalted a reputation, the reason will hardly be admitted as entitled to any weight against the strong probability arising out of Meleager's testimony ; while the elegance in the turn of thought and expression of many of the poems, seems to mark them as belonging to an age not inferior in antiquity to that of the great philosopher ; and the conceits with which they are interspersed are in f Jacobs, i. p. 102. Brunck, i. p. 1C9. PLATO. 101 accordance with the fanciful character impressed on some of his most exalted conceptions. I. (1.) A LOVER'S WISH. moore. Why dost thou gaze upon the sky ? Oh that I were yon spangled sphere ! Then every star should be an eye To wander o'er thy beauties here. II. (2.) THE KISS. M. Oh ! on that kiss my soul, As if in doubt to stay, Linger'd awhile, on fluttering wing prepar'd To soar away. III. (5.) THE CHALLENGE. c. m. I THROW an apple at my fair ; And if she love me, love me truly. She '11 guess aright the hidden prayer, Accept it, and reward me duly. But if — oh let it not be spoken ! — She have no mind to be persuaded. Still let her take the Lover's token. And think how soon it will be faded. 102 PLATO. IV. (7.) LAIS'S LOOKING-GLASS. * p. 425. b. I WHO, erewhile, in fame and beauty proud, Before my lattice drew an amorous crowd, Lais the fair, my hateful glass resign. An offering, heav'nly Venus, at thy shrine : For what I am, 't is piteous to behold. And Time has ruin'd what I was of old. THE SAME. PRIOR. Venus, take my votive glass ! Since I am not what I was. What fi-om tliis day I shall be, Venus ! let me never see. V. (8.) ON A BRONZE IMAGE OF A FROG. m. Servant of the Nymphs who dwell In the fountain's deepest cell, Lover of shades — hoarse frog, that carol free, Where streamlets run, my rustic minstrelsy — Me the thirsty traveller Hath in brass ensculptur'd here, A grateful offering to the powers who gave. To slake his burning thirst, the welcome wave. Croaking minstrel — faithful guide — I reveal'd the hidden tide Of waters, bubbling from the reedy lake. That agony of burning thirst to slake. PLATO. 103 VI. (9.) ON THE STATUE OF VENUS AT CNIDOS. m. Bright Cytherea thought one day To Cnidos she 'd repair, Gliding across the waterj'^ way, To ^dew her image there. But when, an-iv'd, she cast around Her eyes dixdnely bright, And saw ujDon that holy ground The gazing world's delight ; Amaz'd, she cried, while blushes told Tlie thoughts that swell'd her breast, " Where did Praxiteles behold .....'' He could not, sure, have guess'd ! VII. (11.) ON ARISTOPHANES. m. The Muses, seeking for a shrine Whose glories ne'er should cease. Found, as they stray'd, the soul divine Of Aristophanes. Vin. (14.) ON A RURAL IMAGE OF PAN. * p. 3G9. m. Sleep, ye rude winds ! be every murmur dead On yonder oak-crown'd promontory's head ! Be stiU, ye bleating flocks ! your shepherd calls : Hang silent on your rocks, ye waterfalls ! 104 PLATO. Pan on his oaten pipe awakes the strain. And fills with dulcet sounds the pastoral plain, Lur'd by his notes, the Nymphs their bowers forsake, From every fountain, running stream, and lake. From every hill and ancient grove around, And to symphonious measures strike the ground. IX. (15.) ON THE IMAGES OF A SATYR AND CUPID. *p. 368. From mortal hands my being I derive ; Mute marble once, from man I leam'd to live : A Satyr now, with Nymphs I hold resort. And guard the wateiy grottos where they sport. In purple wine denied to revel more. Sweet draughts of water from my urn I pour. But, Stranger, softly tread, lest any sound Awake yon boy, in rosy slumbers bound. X. (19.) ON MUTABILITY. m. Time bears the world away ; — a little date Will change name, beauty, nature — aye, and Fate. XI. (20.) ON A WALNUT-TREE BY THE ROAD-SIDE. m. By the road-side a mark I stand For every passing school-boy's hand ; PLATO. 105 A helpless butt, whereon to try The skill of their rude archery. My branches, erst so widely spread. The leafy honours of my head, Scatter'd around me, shent and broke By many a pointed marble's stroke. — Plants of the forest ! pray, that ne'er Your boughs may fruit or blossom bear : If to be barren be a curse. Your fatal fruitfulness is worse. XIT. (21.) MOORE. In life thou wert my morning star ; But now that death hath quench'd thy light, Alas ! thou sliinest, dim and far. Like the pale beam that weeps at night. XIII. (22.) ON DION OF SYRACUSE. c m. For Priam's queen and daughters at their birth The Fates weav'd tears into the web of life : But for thee, Dion, in thy hour of mirth. When triumph crown'd thy honourable strife, Thy gathering hopes were pour'd upon the sand : Tliee, still, thy countrymen revere, and lay In the broad jorecincts of thy native land. But who the passion of my grief can stay ? F 5 106 PLATO. XIV. (23.) ON TWO NEIGHBOURING TOMBS. h. This is a sailor's — that a ploughman's tomb ; — Thus sea and land abide one common doom. XV. (26.) ON A STRANDED CORPSE. ji. A shipwreck'd mariner you here behold. From whose dead limbs ev'n Ocean rude relented To strip the cloak that did those limbs enfold. Unpitying man, more rude, that covering tore — How little worth, to be so long repented ! — So let him bear away his plunder'd store ; And go to hell — he '11 wish the deed undone When Minos sees him with my tatters on . XVI. (29.) ON A STATUE OF CUPID SLEEPING. * p. 368. I pierc'd the grove ; and in its deepest gloom Beheld sweet Love, of heav'nly form and bloom ; Nor bow nor quiver at his back were slung. But, harmless, on the neighbouring branches hung. On rosebuds pillow'd lay the little cliild. In glowing slumbers pleas'd, and sleeping smil'd, While, all around, the bees dehghted sip The fragrance of his smooth and balmy lip. PLATO. 107 THE SAME. K. Deep in the bosom of a shady grove We found, conceal'd, the truant god of love. The boy was sleeping ; and his smiling face Glow'd like a ripe peach with a purple grace. Unarm'd he lay — his bow and quiver hung Upon the leafy boughs of trees ; among Roses fresh-bloTATi his little head repos'd. And round his laughing lips, that, half-unclos'd, Invited kisses, dropping from on high, A swarm of golden bees began to ply Their busy task ; as if no hive could prove So fit for honey as the mouth of Love. XVII. (30.) THE ANSWER OF THE MUSES TO \^ENUS. * p. 115. M. When Venus bade the Aonian maids obey, Or her own son should vindicate her sway. The virgins answer'd, "Threat your subjects thus ! That puny warrior has no arms for us." THE SAME. PRIOR. Thus to the Muses spoke the Cyprian dame : Adore my altars, and revere my name ; My son shall else assume his potent darts : Twang goes the bow ; — my girls, have at your hearts ! " 108 SPEUSIPPUS. The Muses answer'd Venus, " We deride The vagrant's maUce, and his mother's pride : Send him to njTnphs who sleep on Ida's shade, To the loose dance and wanton masquerade : " Our thoughts are settled, and intent we look On the instructive verse and moral book : On female idleness his power relies. But when he finds us studying hard, he flies." SPEUSIPPUS.t The disciple of Plato, and his successor in the Academy. Olymp. 108, B. C. 347. EPITAPH ON PLATO. m. Plato's dead form this earthy shroud invests : His soul among the godlike heroes rests. f Jacobs, i. p. 109. Brunck, i. p. 176. ARISTOTLE. 109 ARISTOTLE.f Of this philosopher, beside the Hymn to Virtue already inserted, the Anthology contains a single Epigram, of no value; and a long succession (forty-eight in number) of equally worthless inscriptions, called Epitaphs, on the He- roes of the Trojan War. Frcm among these, we have selected the following, the only one which exceeds the limits of a single distich, by way of introduction to the Parody of Mnasalcus, which will be found under the head of that poet. It is ascribed by some to Plato ; and, as it is not in uniformity with the other inscriptions among which it is here placed, it seems probable that Aristotle is, after all, not entitled to it. III. (6.) ON THE TOMB OF AJAX. m. By Ajax' tomb, in solemn state, I, Virtue, as a mourner wait. With hair dishevell'd, sable vest. Fast-streaming eyes, and heaving breast ; Since in the Grecian tents I see Fraud, hateful Fraud, preferr'd to me. I Jacobs, i. p. 1 1 1. Biunck, i. p. 178. 1 10 MNASALCUS. MNASALCUS.f MvatraXKOv re /co/xas o'iviropov tt'itvos. — Meleager, i. IC. The age of this author is unknown. Strabo, after Theo- doridas, mentions him as one of the tribe of Platsese in Sicyon ; and Athenseus (lib. iv. p. 1G3,) also calls him a Sicyonian. However, as Theodoridas, whom Strabo fol- lows, appears to have lived till about the 136th Olympiad (B. C. 236), it is clear that the date of his death must be sought at some earlier period ; nor does there appear any reason for placing it, as Jacobs is disposed to do, at a period either immediately, or very shortly, jDreceduig. On the other hand, one of his Epigrams (the second in the collection,) is an inscription on the dedication to Diana of the Shield of Alexander — the Gi'eat, as Reiske conjectures — whose death preceded that of Tlieodoridas by nearly a century (B. C. 323). But Reiske's conjecture is unsup- ported by evidence ; and its jjrobabiHty seems to be neither increased nor diminished by the circumstance, that of the two succeeding Epigrams, both on the dedication of shields — the former refers to that of some other Alexander con- tradistinguished by the appellation (tvWeos, and the latter to that of CUtus, who may, or may not, be the same as the celebrated friend and foster-brother of the Macedonian madman, whom (as Captain FlueUen has it,) he killed " in f Jacobs, i. p. 123. Brunck, i. p. 190. MNASALCUS. Ill his ates and his angers." The Epigrams of this author are composed in a terse and manly style, meant perhaps to be illustrated by Meleager's emblem of the shaip leaves of the pine-tree, Tliose which remain to us are eighteen in number ; but, notwithstanding the merit of simphcity and a certain portion of elegance, they possess too little variety to invite the labours of the translator. I. (1.) ON A VINE. M. Sweet Vine ! when howls the wintry hour, Not now thy leafy honours shower ; Nor strew them on the thankless plain — Soon autumn will come round again. Then, when with heat and wine ojiprest. Beneath thy grateful bower, to rest, Antileon lays his drooping head. Oh then thy shadowy foUage shed In heaps around the sleeping boy ! Thus Beauty should be crown'd by Joy. II. (2.) ON THE SHIELI3 OF ALEXANDER. A HOLY offering at Diana's shrine. See Alexander's glorious shield recline ; Whose golden orb, through many a bloody day Triumphant, ne'er in dust dishonour'd lay. M. 112 MNASALCUS. III. (G.) ON A BOW AND QUIVER. m. Phoebus ! to thee this cun^ed how and empty-sounding qviiver Are offer'd at thy sacred shrine by Promachus, the giver. But ah ! the shafts thatus'd witliin that painted case to rattle. Now in the foemen's hearts are sheath'd, whom he hath slain in battle. IV. (7.) ON A PIPE IN THE TEMPLE OF VENUS. h. Say, rustic Pipe ! in Cytherea's dome Why sounds this echo of a shepherd's home ? Nor rocks, nor valleys here invite the strain ; But all is Love — go, seek thy hills again. V. (8.) ON A TEMPLE OF VENUS ON THE SEA-SHORE, m. Here let us from the wave-wash'd beach behold Sea-bom Cythera's venerable fane. And fountains, fring'd with shady poplars old, Where dip their wings the golden Halcyon train. VI. (10.) ON A DEAD LOCUST. m. No more shalt thou, by fruitful furrows sitting, Make with resounding wings glad minstrelsy ! Nor with loud chirps, my merry mood befitting, Soothe me reclin'd beneath the forest tree. NOSSIS. 113 VII. (14.) PARODY. (See Aristotle, p. 109.) m. Ix woeful guise, at Pleasure's gate, I, Virtue, as a mourner wait. With hair in loose disorder flowing. And breast with fierce resentment glowing ; Since, all the country round, I see Base sensual joys preferr'd to me. NOSSIS.f 2 1' J' S' dva/ii'^ TrXel'as jxvpoirvovv evavOeiiov Ipiv "NoffffiSos, ris deXrois Krjpbv eTTj^ev "Epa»s. — Meleager, i. 9. " To Nossis the Locrian, as Bentley first observed," (says the author of an article in the Edinburgh Review already cited,) "Meleager seems to attribute an amorous temper and a warm imagination. But the twelve Epigrams from her pen which have sur\'ived, display rather an attempt to shine in that pointed style, which at least invaded this pro- vince of Greek poetry, and which a woman hardly ever attempts successfully." According to the evidence of her own poems, as collected by Mr. Fj-nes Clinton (Fasti Helle- nici, vol. ii. p. 486), she was a native of Locri in Italy ; the name of her mother Theophilis, and that of her maternal grandfather Cleochas ; she alludes in one of her pieces to a war between her countrymen and the Bruttians — the esta- blishment of whom as a distinct jieople is referred by Strabo f Jacobs, i. 127. Brunck, i. 194. 114 NOSSIS. to B. C. 356 ; and another is in commemoration of Rhin- thon, a dramatic poet who flourished in the reign of Ptolemy Soter. Jacobs very properly rejects the absurd conjecture of Reiske, of two poetesses of the same name, founded on an epigram in praise of Sappho, in which there seems no ground for imagining that she is spoken of as a contemporar}^ I. (1.) IN PRAISE OF LOVE. m. What in life is half so sweet As the hour when lovers meet ? Not the joys that Fortune pours ; Not Hymettus' fi-agrant stores. Thus says Nossis — Whosoe'er Venus takes not to her care. Never shall the roses know. In her blooming bowers that grow. II. (2.) ON AN IMAGE OF HER DAUGHTER, m. In this lov'd stone Melinna's self I trace. 'Tis hers, that form — 'tis hers, that speaking face : How like her mother's ! Oh what joy, to see Ourselves reflected in our progeny ! III. (9.) ON THE PICTURE OF THYMARETE. m. On yonder tablet grav'd I see The form of my Tliymarete : Her gracious smUe, her lofty air. Warm as in life, are blended there. ANYTE. 115 Her little fondled dog, that keeps Still ^\-atch around her while she sleeps. Would in that shape his mistress trace. And fawning lick her honour'd face. IV. (12.) ON RHINTHON, THE INVENTOR OF TKAGI-COMEDY. M. With hearty laughter pass this column by — Just meed of praise to him who slumbers nigh. Rhinthon my name — my home was Syracuse — And though no tuneful darling of the Muse^ I first made Tragedy divert the town. And wove — nay, doubt not — my own ivy crown. ANYTE. rioWd (lev efjbirXe^as 'AvvTrjs Kpiva. — Meleager, i. 5. "Why this poetess was called by Antipater 'the female Homer,' it is difficult to guess. We have rather more than twenty of her compositions — Epigrams in the more ancient acceptation of the term ; and a certain sweet simplicity, rather than Homeric force, is their characteristic." (Edinb, Rev. ubi supra.) She was a native of Tegea ; and the date of her compositions appears to be fixed by reference to one of them, which alludes to the irruption of the Gauls into Asia (B. C. 278), coupled with the circumstance that her statue is said to have been the work of Euthycrates 116 ANYTE. and Cephisodotus, who, according to Pliny, worked in the 120th Olympiad, B. C. 300. Her Epigrams, collected by Jacobs, are twenty-two in number ; and most possess a delicacy and tenderness of style, which seem to entitle her to the emblem of the White Lily above assigned her. I. (.5.) ON A STATUE OF VENUS. * p. 371. b. Cythera from this craggy steep Looks downward on the glassy deep. And hither calls the breathing gale. Propitious to the venturous sail ; While ocean flows beneath, serene, Aw'd by the smile of Beauty's Queen. II. (6.) ON A LAUREL BY A FOUNTAIN'S SIDE. * p. 357. h. Rest thee beneath yon laurel's ample shade, And quaff the limpid stream that issues there ; So thy worn frame, for summer's toil repaid. May feel the freshness of the western air. III. (7.) ON THE ENTRANCE TO A CAVERN, anon. Stranger, beneath this rock thy limbs bestow — Sweet, 'mid the green leaves, breezes whisper here : Drink the cool wave, while noontide fervors glow ; For such the rest to wearied pilgrim dear. ANYTE. ir IV. (12.) ON A DOLPHIN CAST ASHORE, i No more exulting o'er the buoyant sea High shall I raise my head in gambols free ; Nor by some gallant ship breathe out the air, Pleas'd with my o\ati bright image figur'd there. The storm's black mist has forc'd me to the land, And laid me lifeless on this couch of sand. V. (17.) ON THE VIRGINS OF MILETUS, m. Then let us hence, Miletus dear ! sweet native land, fare- well ! Th' insulting wrongs of lawless Gauls we fear, whilst here we dwell. Three virgins of Milesian race, to this dire fate compell'd By Celtic Mars — yet glad we die, that we have ne'er be- held 'Spousals of blood, nor sunk to be vile handmaids to our foes. But rather owe our thanks to Death, kind healer of our woes. VI. (18.) EPITAPH. * p. 285. m. Poor Erato, when the cold hand of Death Chok'd the faint struggles of her labouring breath. And parting life scarce ghmmer'd in her face, Strain'd her fond parent in a last embrace : " O father, I 'm no more — dark clouds arise, — The mists of death hang heavy o'er my eyes ! " 118 MYRO. VII. (19.) ANOTHER. * p. 285. m. In this sad tomb where CHno sleeps, sweet maid ! Her mother oft invokes the gentle shade, And calls, in hopeless grief, on her who died In the full bloom of youth and beauty's pride ; Who left, a virgin, the bright realms of day. On gloomy Acheron's pale coasts to stray. VIII. (22.) ANOTHER. * (See p. 286.) Drop o'er Antibia's grave a pious tear ; For "\"irtue. Beauty, Wit, lie buried here. Full many a suitor sought her father's hall. To gain the Virgin's love ; but Death o'er all Claim'd dire precedence : Who shall Death withstand Their hopes were blasted by his ruthless hand. MYRO.t ■TToXXcl! ^e Mvpovs Aeipia Meleager, i. 5, 6. " With M5T0, the last of our series, B. C. 280," (we again quote the Edinburgh critic in his account of tliis lady,) " ths literary glories of Byzantium began to dawn. She com- f Jacobs, i. p. 135. Brunck, i. p. 202. MYRO. 119 posed, in the taste of her age, the usual allowance of Epi- grams, two of which are extant. But her most famous work was one in heroic metre, called Mnemosyne, which appears, from the fragments yet remaining, to have been mythological. In another sense also she produced poetry, ha^■ing given birth to Homer the younger, one of the Tragic Pleiad, who shed their watery beams over the reign of Ptolemy Philadelphus." Tlie two Epigrams are subjoined : the fragment of the AInemosyne contains a very common-place narrative of the education of Jupiter in the Isle of Crete, and little Avorthy preservation. I. (1.) ON A GRAPE PRESENTED TO VENUS, m. Beneath Cythera's golden porch thou liest, Sweet Grape ! with Bacchus' richest nectar swelling. Thy mother-plant, amid her leafy dwelling. Mourns her lost child. Far off, sweet Grape, thou diest ! II. (2.) ON SOME STATUES OF HAMADRYADS, h. Fair daughters of the stream, whose rosy feet Within this deep ambrosial water shine. Hail ! and preserve the youth whose worship meet Rais'd your pure forms beneath the shady pine. 120 SIMMIAS OF RHODES. SIMMIAS OF RHODES.! This Simmias, who is distinguished as a grammarian, is mentioned among the eminent men of Rhodes by Strabo, xlv. p. 655, and is placed by Mr. Clinton (2 Fast. Hell. 487,) immediately after the three female poets, but without any certain date. From Hephsestion it is proved that he was anterior to the 120th Olympiad. Jacobs supjioses that he, and not his namesake of Thebes (see before, p. 99), is the poet inscribed by Meleager in his Wreath. His name is associated, in the minds of all school-boy readers of the Poetse Minores, with the figures of altars, wings, battle- axes, and eggs, to which he was perhajis the earliest in- ventor of the delectable and highly profitable art of subject- ing the rebel Muse, being the first (at least upon record,) of that illustrious tribe of dunces, who " wings display, and altars raise, And torture one poor word a thousand ways." We shall neither endeavour to imitate any of these his laudable exploits, nor fatigue our readers with either of the five dull Epigrams which are ascribed to him, but, on ac- count of his supposed insertion in Meleager's Anthology, present them with a translation of the following remarkable fragment of a poem in praise of Apollo, which may appear to have deserved a somewhat higher rank in the Temple of the Muses. f Jacobs, i. p. 136. Brunck, i. p. 204. ASCLEPIADES. 121 (5.) APOLLO.— A FRAGMENT. c. m. I reach'd the distant Hj'perborean state, — The wealthy race, — at whose high banquet sate Perseus the hero. On those wide-stretch'd plains Ride the Massagetae, (gi\ang the reins To their fleet coursers,) skilful with the bow. — And then I came to the stupendous flow Of Campasus, who pours his mighty tide To th' ocean sea, eternally supplied. — Thence to islands, clad with olives green and young. With many a tufted bulrush overhung. A giant race, half-man, half-dog, live there : Beneath their shoulders grow the heads they wear ; Jaws long and lank, and grisly tusks they bear : Much foreign tongues they learn, and can indite ; But when they strive to speak, they bark outright. ASCLEPIADES.t 2iKe\t^6w r' ave/xois avdea (pvofieva. — Meleager, i. 46. Jacobs entertains a doubt whether the emblem of the ane- mone (the flower begotten by the Winds), together with the honours of insertion in the Garland of Meleager, be in this verse assigned to the Sicilian Theocritus, or to Asclei:)iades of Samos, who was the friend and preceptor of Theocritus, and to whom the epithet Sicelides is also given by ancient f Jacobs, i. p. 144. Brunck, i. p. 211. G 122 ASCLEPIADES. authors, as derived from his father. To this poet belong, beyond all doubt, two of the Epigrams (the 32nd and 33rd) which came under this title in the Anthology, on account of their allusions to the Egyptian princesses Berenice and Cleopatra, who were his contemporaries. With respect to the remainder, we have no distinct evidence by which to assign thera to this elder Asclepiades, in preference to a later poet of the same name (who was of Adramyttus), or to a third, or a fourth Asclepiades — both of whom were natives of Myrlea, and included in the list of Greek authors furnished by Mr. Clinton in the second volume of his Fasti Hellenici. The greater part, however, are of such a stamp as to render it very immaterial to whom the praise, or dis- praise, of their authorship is attributable. I. (4.) THE VOTIVE CHAPLET. * p. 7. b. Curl, ye sweet flowers ! ye zephyrs softly breathe. Nor shake from Helen's door my votive wreath ! Bedew'd with grief, your blooming honours keep, (For those who love are ever known to weep,) And when, beneath, my lovely maid appears. Rain from your purple cups a lover's tears. II. (8.) THE DESPAIRING LOVER. cm. My years are not quite two-and-twenty. And I would fain go die : Ye Loves, why doth it so content ye This cruel sport to ply .'' ASCLEPIADES. 123 Think, Loves, if mischief should beset me, Would it not grieve you then ? No — by my faith ! you 'd straight forget me. And to your dice again. III. (9.) LOVE AND WINE. * p. 81. h. Drink, Asclepiades ! Why stream thine eyes ? Art thou alone resistless Beauty's prize ? Hast thou alone sustain'd the piercing darts That sportive Love directs at human hearts ? Why buried thus alive .'' The rosy ray Of mom fades swiftly — Drink thy cares away ! Wait we again the lamps of drowsy night ? With wine, with wine salute the dawning light ! A few short hours, and all our joys are o'er. We sleep in darkness, and shall quaif no more. IV. (13.) THE LOVER'S PRAYER. m. All that is left me of my sovd. That little all, O Love ! release ; Release, kind Love, from thy controul, And let me be at peace ! Or, if in vain for ease I pray. Bid not thy shafts, but lightnings, fly ; That so I may consume away To ashes where I lie. Strike then, kind Love ! — nay, do not spare ! And if aught worse thou hast in store, I do not ask thee to forbear. But rather strike the more ! c 2 124 ASCLEPIADES. V. (18.) THE LOVER CHEATED. m. Witness, Night ! — I ask no more — What a fool Melissa made me. When to be her paramour First she lur'd and then betray'd me! Not uncaU'd I sought her door, I, her chosen paramour. Witness, Night ! who saw me wait All your long and dreary hours, Sigliing, shivering at her gate. Grant me this, ye amorous powers ! May she live herself to be Cheated as she cheated me ! VI. (20.) THE ENJOYMENT OF LOVE. *p. 16. m. Sweet is the goblet cool'd with winter snows To him who pants in summer's scorching heat ; And sweet to weary mariners repose From ocean's tempests in some green retreat : — But far more sweet than these, the conscious bower Where lovers meet at Love's delighted hour. VII. (21.) THE VIRGIN'S TRIUMPH. * p. 5. m. Still glorying in thy virgin flower ? Yet, in those gloomy shades below, No lovers will adorn thy bower : Youth's pleasures with the living glow. — "\^irgin, we shall be dust alone. On the sad shore of Acheron ! ASCLEPIADES. 125 VIII. (24.) THE BRUNETTE. m. Young Didyme hath ravish'd me in my boyhood's flower, And, alas ! I melt like wax before her beauty's power. Say she be black — What then? The coals that on the hearth lie dead — Set them on fire — from black they soon will turn to rosy red. IX. (26.) THE POWER OF WINE. * p. 82. m. Sxow on ! hail on ! cast darkness all around me ! Let loose thy thunders ! with thy lightnings wound me ! — I care not, Jove, but thy worst rage defy ; Nor will I cease to revel till I die. Spare but my life — and, let thy thunders roar And lightnings flash — I '11 only revel more. Thunderer ! a God more potent far than thee — To whom thou too hast yielded — maddens me. X. (32.) ON THE PICTURE OF BERENICE, m. This form is Cytherea's — Nay, 'T is Berenice's, I protest. So like to both, you safely may Give it to either you like best. XI. (33.) ON CLEOPATRA'S AMETHYST. m. The face that sculptur'd here you see Is of the nymph Ebriety. 126 ASCLEPIADES. The cunning artist, his design Imbedded in no kindred shrine — A pure and lucid amethyst — Yet think not so his aim he miss'd. — Pure to the pure are things divine- In Cleopatra's royal hands. Unconscious of the power of wine, Sober'd, the tipsy goddess stands. XII. (34.) ON HESIOD. haygarth. Sweet bard of Ascra ! on thy youthful head The Muses erst their laurel-branches spread. When on the rugged summits of the rocks They saw thee laid amidst thy sultry flocks. Ev'n then to thee, o'er fair Castalia's wave, Their sacred powers unbounded empire gave. By this inspir'd, thy genius soar'd on high. And rang'd the vaulted azure of the sky ; With joy transported, view'd the blest abodes, And sang th' extatic raptures of the gods. LEONIDAS OF TARENTUM. 127 LEONIDAS OF TARENTUM. f 'Ev Se AetoviSeu 9aXepovs kutuoTo Kopvfi^ovs. — Meleager, i. 15. This poet is generally supposed to have been contemporary with Pyrrhus king of Epirus ; and it has been also con- ject\u-ed (probablj'' from the Epitaph which he composed for himself, and which describes him as an exile from his native comitrj^) that he was carried away captive, or at least as a hostage, by that celebrated leader, in the year B. C. 278. The Epigram from which this connexion has been chiefly inferred, and which purports to be an inscrip- tion on certain spoils of war obtained by Pyrrhus in his great victory over Antigonus and the Galatians, — is treated by Mr. Fynes CUnton as having been ascribed to him with- out sufficient evidence. The whole number of Epigrams to which his name is prefixed exceeds a hundred ; but of these, six are shown to be doubtful. The first thirty-four are of the class of Dedicatory or Votive Inscriptions, the perpetually recurring sameness of which is very uninviting to the trans- lator. The subjects of the remainder are mostly descriptive, relating to statues, trees, animals, &c., or commemorative of divers accidents occurring in human life, particularly to those conversant in maritime affairs. Many are distinguish- ed by great tenderness and simplicity ; some attempt hu- mour, but all are remarkably free from exception on the ground of morality, in which resjoect the author is entitled t Jacobs, i. p. 153. Brunck, i. p. 220. 128 LEONIDAS OF TARENTUM. to the high praise of being one of the most blameless writers in the Anthology. I. (1.) AN OFFERING TO THE MUSES. m. Melo and Satyra to the Muses these — The tuneful race of Antigenides — To the Pimpleian Muses, whom of late Duteous they serv'd, — these offerings dedicate. Melo, this flute, whose notes in silver chase Her swift lips foUow'd — and this boxen case. And amorous Satj^ra, this vocal reed. Oft by her tuneful breath, with wanton heed, Waken'd to song, while Comus' revellers round Clapp'd loud their hands, responsive to the sound. From festive eve, until the first faint ray Broke through the portals of rejoicing day. n. (7.) THE MOTHER'S OFFERING TO RHEA. m. O HOLY Mother ! — on the peak Of Dindyma, and on those summits bleak That frown o'er Phrygia's scorched plain. Holding thy throne, — with fav'ring aspect deign To smile on Aristodice, Silene's virgin child, that she May grow in beauty, and her charms improve To fulness, and invite connubial love. For this thy porch she seeks with tributes rare. And o'er thine altars strews her votive hair. LEONIDAS OF TARENTUM. 129 III. (17.) PAN TO HIS WORSHIPERS. m. " Go, rouse the deer with horn and hound. And chase him o'er the mountains free ; Or bid the hollow woods resound The triumphs of your archery. " Pan leads — and if you hail me right. As guardian of the sylvan reign, I '11 wing your arrows on their flight. And speed your coursers o'er the plain." IV. (19.) THE OFFERING OF THREE BROTHER-SPORTS- MEN. * p. 424. M. Three brothers dedicate, O Pan I to thee Their nets, the various emblems of their toil ; — Pigres, who brings from realms of air his spoil ; Damis from woods ; and Clitor from the sea : So may the treasures of the deep be giv'n To this ; to those the fruits of earth and heav'n. V. (21.) THE OFFERING OF PYRRHUS TO MINERVA, m. MoLossiAN Pyrrhus to the Itonian power These shields suspends, from fierce Galatians won. Thus, in their age, as in their youthful flower, The race of jEacus triuinphant shone. G 5 130 LEONIDAS OF TARENTUM. VI. (29.) ON THE STATUES OF MERCURY AND HER- CULES PLACED AS BOUNDARY-STONES BY THE ROAD-SIDE. m. (mercury speaks.) " Wayfarers, who along this road your journey take. Whether amidst the fields a holiday to make, Or town- ward bending, to the fam'd Acropolis, — We, rival gods, who guard the city's boundaries, (I, who am Hermes hight, and th' other Hercules,) Bid weary mortals peace, good- will, and lasting bliss. But for ourselves, alas ! nor peace nor joy have we — At least, I say so — I — unlucky Mercury. If any swain bring pears or apples to our shrine, Ev'n though unripe they be, not one of them is mine : That glutton bolts them all. The same too with our grapes— Not one, or sweet or sour, his greedy maw escapes. — Community of goods I therefore can't abide : Let him who means me well, my portion set aside. And say — ' This, Hermes, is for thee — that for thy friend Alcides.' — Thus, at least, our strife may have an end." VII. (30.) OFFERING TO THE RURAL DEITIES. * p. 422. m. To Pan, the master of the woodland plain. To young Lyseus and the azure train Of nymphs that malve the pastoral life their care. With offerings due old Bito forms his prayer. To Pan a playful kid, in wars untried. He vows, yet sporting by the mother's side ; LEONIDAS OF TARENTUM. 131 And lays the creeping i\'y on the vine, A grateful present to the God of Wine ; And to the gentler deities who guide Their winding streamlets o'er the mountain's side, Each varied bud from Autumn's shady bowers, Mix'd with the full-blown roses' purple flowers. Therefore, ye Nymphs, enrich my narrow field With the full stores your bounteous fountains yield ; Pan, bid my luscious pails with mUk o'erflow. And Bacchus, teach my mellow ^ines to glow. VIII. (35.) ANOTHER. m. Ye lowly huts ! thou sacred hill. Heart of the Nymphs ! pure gushing rill, That underneath the cold stone flowest ! Pine, that those clear streams o'ergrowest ! Thou, son of Maia, Mercury, Squar'd in cunning statuary ! And thou, O Pan, whose wand' ring flocks Frolic o'er the craggy rocks ! — Pleas'd, the rustic goblet take, FUl'd with wine, and th' oaten cake, Offer'd to your deities By a true ^acides. IX. (37.) ON A STATUE OF ANACREON. c. m. Come, see your old Anacreon, How, seated on his couch of stone. With silvery temples garlanded. He quaiFs the rich wine rosy-red ; 132 LEONIDAS OF TARENTUM. How, with flush'd cheek and swimming eye, In drunken fashion from his thigh He lets his robe unheeded steal. And drop and dangle o'er his heel. One sandal 's off; one scarce can hide The lean and shrivell'd foot inside. Old Anacreon — hark ! he sings Still of love to th' old harp strings ! Still, BathyUa, still, Megiste, How he coax'd ye, how he kiss'd ye ! Gentle Bacchus, watch and wait. You must watch and hold him straight ; Hold him up ; for if he fall. You lose your boldest Bacchanal ! X. (39.) INSCRIPTION ON THE BANKS OF A RIVER. * p. 355. B Not here, O thirsty traveller, stoop to drink ; The sun has warm'd and flocks disturb'd its brink ; But climb yon upland where the heifers play. Where that tall pine excludes the sultry day ; There will you list a bubbling rill that flows Down the smooth rock more cold than Thracian snows. LEONIDAS OF TARENTUM. 133 XI. (41.) OX THE STATUE OF VEXUS AXADYOMEXE. m. From her mother's bosom flying, Glistening with the salt sea foam. Our Apelles, Venus spying. Bade his daring pencil roam O'er her beauties rapture-giving, Xot to paint — but catch them living. 'T is thus her fingers small she weaves In her long and dripping tresses ; 'T is thus her full round bosom heaves. Like rich fhiit that Autumn blesses ; While her goddess-rivals say — " Mighty Jove ! we yield the day." XII. (47.) MARS TO HIS VOTARIES. Away with spoils like these ! They are not mine ; Hateful to Mars, nor worthy of his shrine. Uncleft the helm, unstain'd with blood the shield, 111' inglorious spear unbroken in the field. Reddening with shame I felt the hot drops flow In scorn for cowards from my blushing brow. These let some lover range, in wanton pride, Round nuptial haUs and chambers of the bride. Hang in the temple of the god of fight Arms dropping gore : — for such his soul delight. 134 LEONIDAS OF TARENTUM. XIII. (48.) INSCRIPTION ON A BOAT. c. m. They say that I am small and frail, And cannot live in stormy seas : — It may be so ; yet every sail Makes sliipwreck in the swelling breeze : Nor strength nor size can then hold fast. But Fortune's favour, Heaven's decree ; — Let others trust in oar and mast, But may the gods take care of me ! XIV. (49.) ON HOMER. * p. 363. h. Dim groM^ the planets when the God of Day RoUs his swift chariot through the heav'nly way ; The Moon's immortal round, no longer bright, Shrinks in pale terror from the glorious light : — Thus all eclips'd by Homer's wondrous blaze. The crowd of poets hide their lessen' d rays. XV. (50.) ON THE STATUE OF VENUS AT SPARTA, m. EuROTAs erst to Cypris said, " Or clad in arms appear ; Or hence depart ! The city raves For buckler, sword, and spear." LEONIDAS OF TARENTUM. 135 " Nay," faintly laugliing, she replied, " Though I unarm'd remain. Yet Lacedaemon shall no less Be held my favour'd reign : " Ne'er yet was Cytherea seen Array' d in horrid mail ; And shameless they who Sparta's name Brand with so false a tale." XVI. (55.) HOME. * p. 111. B. Clixg to thy home ! If there the meanest shed Afield thee a hearth and shelter for thy head, And some poor plot with vegetables stor'd Be all that Heaven allots thee for a board, Unsavoury bread, and herbs that scatter'd grow Wild on the river-brink or mountain-brow, — Yet e'en this cheerless mansion shall provide More heart's repose than all the world beside. XVII. (57.) THE RETURN OF SPRING TO SAILORS. * p. 352. b. Haste to the port ! the twittering swallow calls. Again retum'd, the wint'ry breezes sleep ; The meadows laugh ; and warm the zei)hyr falls On Ocean's breast, and calms the fearful deep. ISG LEONJDAS OF TARP:NTUM. Now spring your cables, loiterers ; spread your sails ; O'er the smooth surface of the waters roam ! So shall your vessel glide with friendly gales. And, fraught with foreign treasure, waft you home. THE SAME ENLARGED. m. "With rapid prow the buoyant vessels glide. And cut the glassy surface of the tide, — The glassy surface, white with foam no more. But smoothly flowing to the level shore ; Or, settled in a deep and calm repose. Unruffled by the breeze that scarcely blows. For now the swallow's voice, heard faintly clear, Spring's gracious zephyr wafts along the air ; Beneath the pent-house roof's embowering shade The amorous bird her clay-built nest hath laid. Securely guarded for her callow brood ; The cricket has his merry song renew'd. And early foliage burst through every grove. And roses open to the touch of love. Now set your anchors free ; spread every sail. And loose your cordage to the friendly gale ; Quit, quit the port, where the long winter's day Has pass'd inglorious, unimprov'd, away ! Now tempt afresh the fortune of the wave, Seek other shores, and new adventures brave ! So may the gods of trade reward your toil With every bounty, shower'd from every soil ; And guide your barks triumphant o'er the main. Laden with plenty, to their homes again. LEONID AS OF TARENTUM. 137 XVIII. (59.) DIOGENES TO CHARON. m. Sad minister of Hades, who alone With thy black boat canst pass o'er Acheron ! WHiat though that fearful boat nigh sunken be With its full freight of souls, yet take in me, The Dog Diogenes — 'tis all I ask. Besides my comrade scrip and leathern flask. This tatter'd cloak, and mite to pay the ferry — AU I possess'd on earth to make me merry ; And all I wish again in hell to find. I have left nothing in the world behind. XIX. (60.) ON A GRASSHOPPER, SEATED ON A SPEAR IN THE TEMPLE OF MINERVA. M. Not only on the tree-top do I sing. When summer heat expands my vocal wing. Sipping the dewy morning's virgin tear. Sweet, unbought bard, to weary trav'llers dear : But now you may behold me resting here, Ev'n on the point of arm'd Minerva's spear ! Who love the Muses thus each other suit — Theirs is our voice — and theirs her maiden flute. XX. (63.) THE ROAD TO DEATH. c. m. With courage seek the kingdom of the dead ; The path before you lies : It is not hard to find, nor tread ; No rocks to climb, no lanes to thread , 138 LEONID AS OF TARENTUM. But broad, and straight, and even still, And ever gently slopes downhill : You cannot miss it, though you shut your eyes. XXI. (69.) EPITAPH ON A RICH MAN. c. m. I AM the tomb of Crethon : here you read His name ; himself is number'd with the dead ; Who once had wealth, not less than Gyges' gold ; Who once was rich in stable, stall, and fold ; Who once was blest above all living men — With lands, how narrow now ! so ample then ! xxn. (71.) AN EPITAPH, IN FORM OF DIALOGUE, u. Q. Who, and from whom art thou, that sleep'st beneath this Parian pile ? A. Prexo — my sire, Calliteles. Q. And whence? ^. From Samos' isle. Q. By whom interr'd ? A. Theocritus — the spouse my parents chose. Q. What brought thee to the grave ? A. Alas ! I died in childbed throes. Q. By years how burthen'd ? A. Twenty-two. Q. And childless all bereft ? A. Ah, no! one child — Calliteles — of three years old I left. Q. Long may he live, poor boy, and to an honour'd age attain ! A. Ev'n so for thee may Fate, kind stranger, every joy ordain ! LEONID AS OF TARENTUM. 139 XXIII. (75.) EPITAPH ON A DRUNKEN MAN. cm. Stranger, the Syracusan Orthon prays You walk not forth drunk in the night ; but says That he by such misfortune was undone. And sleeps in death beneath a foreign stone. XXIV. (94.) ON A MARINER DEVOURED BY A WOLF. m. AxTHEUs, escap'd the terrors of the flood, A wolf devour'd in Phthia's lonely wood : Ill-fated mariner ! condemn'd to find Dryads more curst than are the Nereids kind ! XXV. (97.) ON HIPPONAX. m. Pass gently by this tomb — lest, while he dozes. Ye wake the hornet that beneath reposes ; Whose sting, that would not his o\vn parents spare. Who wiU may risk — and touch it those who dare ! Take heed then — for his words, like fiery darts. Have ev'n in Hell the power to pierce our hearts. XXVI. (98.) 'J'HE DYING SHEPHERD TO HIS COMPANIONS. HAYGARTH. List, all ye swains, whose thirsty flocks In silence wander o'er these rocks ; 140 LEONIDAS OF TARENTUM. And, oh ! let my sad spirit share Your constant love, your tender care. In parching summer's fervid heat May your young lambs a requiem bleat ; Whilst on the rock the shepherd swain In mournful murmurs svsrells his strain ! To my lone shade, in early spring. Ye pilgrims ! grateful offerings bring ; And o'er my solitary grave With reverence pour the milky wave : Then rifle every floweret's bloom To deck the turf that forms my tomb. For think not that, when life is fled. No hopes or fears can reach the dead — Ev'n then their shades your care approve, And own with gratitude your love. XXVII. (99.) EPITAPH BY A MOTHER ON HER SON. * p. 286. Unhappy child ! Unhappy I, who shed A mother's sorrows o'er thy funeral bed ! Thou 'rt gone in youth, Amyntas ; I, in age, Must wander through a lonely pilgrimage. And sigh for regions of unchanging night, And sicken at the day's repeated light. O guide me hence, sweet spirit, to the bourn Where in thy presence I shall cease to mourn. NICIAS. 141 XXVIII. (100.) HIS OWN EPITAPH. * p. 300. m. Far from Tarentum's native soil I lie. Far from the dear land of my infancy. 'Tis dreadful to resign this mortal breath, But in a stranger clime 'tis worse than death ! Call it not Hfe, to pass a fever'd age In ceaseless wanderings o'er the world's wide stage. But me the Muse has ever lov'd, and giv'n Sweet joys to counterpoise the curse of Heav'n, Nor lets my memory decay, but long To distant times preserves my deathless song. NICIAS. t X^oepov re (jiavfi^pov TsiKiov Meleager, i. 19. Whether the emblem of Mint is here assigned to this poet on account of its actual value in medicine, or its fan- cied properties as an herb consecrated to Venus, and worthy of insertion in the nuptial garland, must be left to conjecture ; but there seems every reason for supposing that this was the same Nicias to whom, in his character both of friend and physician, Theocritus addresses his eleventh Idyll beginning (as Polwhele renders it), f Jacobs, i. p. 181. Brunck, i. p. 248. 142 NICIAS. " Nicias ! how vain the labour, to remove By drugs or healing herbs the fire of Love !" and again, (IdyU 28. v. 7.) " — That Nicias, by the sweet-ton'd Graces blest, Their hallow'd offspring may with letter'd lore And friendly converse charm his welcome guest." If SO, the passages in question would fix Miletus as the place of his nativity : and this fact, coupled with the infor- mation that there are nine Epigrams in the Anthology ascribed to him, of which the last (in ridicule of baldness,) Jacobs prefers — but why, we know not, — to transfer from him to a later Epigrammatist, named Nicarchus, constitutes all that we have to say on the^subject of this Author. I. (4.) ON THE TOMB OF AN INFANT, c. m. Stay, weary traveller, stay ! Beneath these boughs repose ! A step out of the way. My little fountain flows. And never quite forget The monumental urn. Which Simus here hath set His buried child to mourn. II. (7.) THE BEE. a. Many-colour'd, sunshine -loving, spring-betokening Bee ! Yellow Bee, so mad for love of early-blooming flowers ! DIOTIMUS. 143 Till thy waxen cell be full, fair fall thy work and thee. Buzzing round the sweetly smelling garden-plots and bowers ! III. (8.) THE GRASSHOPPER. I SHALL never sing my pleasant ditty now. Folded round by long leaves on the bough. Under my shrUly-chirping wing : For a child's hand seiz'd me in a luckless hour. Sitting on the petals of a flower. Looking for no such evil thing. DIOTIMUS.t ^iiv S' ajjia Kai yXv/cii fiiiXov an' uKpefioviov ^lorifiov. Meleager, i. 27. There were several writers of this name — one, a rhetori- cian of Athens, whose name is mentioned among those delivered up as hostages by the Athenians to Antipater of Macedon, the successor of Alexander ; — the second, also a rhetorician, mentioned by Athenseus (lib. xiii. 603,) as au- thor of a poem entitled " Heraclea," of which a fragment consisting of three lines is preserved ; besides which Jacobs refers to Jonsius (Script. Hist. Phil, ii, 15. 4.) as having reckoned up a whole host of Diotimi — " plures Diotimos," f Jacobs, i. p. 183. Brunck, i. p. 250. 144 DIOTIMUS. and among them Dlotimus the Stoic, who was contempo- rary with Zeno. But, if the Diotimus of the Anthology be the same on whom Aratus wrote a couplet, hereafter to be noticed, then it appears that he must also be set doM'n as identical with one who was a native of Adramyttus, and a o-rammarian, whose melancholy office of teaching dunces to read in the rural district of Mount Gargarus must have sadly contrasted with the elegance of his poetical talent, which is apparent in about a dozen Epigrams bearing his name. I. (1.) TO A DUENNA. m. Guardian of yon blushing fair ! Reverend matron ! tell me why You affect that churlish air. Snarling as I pass you by. I deserve not such rebuke : All I ask is, but to look. True, I on her steps attend — True, I cannot choose but gaze ; But I meant not to offend — Common are the public ways ; And I need not your rebuke. When I follow but to look. Are my eyes so much in fault That they cannot choose but see .'' By the gods we 're homage taught — Homage is idolatry. Spare that undeserv'd rebuke ! Ev'n the gods permit to look. DIOTIMUS. 145 II. (6.) EPITAPH ON TWO AGED PRIESTESSES, c. m. Two aged matrons, daughters of one sire. Lie in one tomb, — twin-buried and twin-bom ; Clino, the priestess of the Graces' quire, Anaxo, unto Ceres' service sworn. Nine suns were wanting to our eightieth year : We died together — who would covet more ? We held our husbands and our cliildren dear ; Nor death unkind, to which we sped before. III. (8.) EPITAPH ON A FLUTE-PLAYER, c. m. Man's hopes are spirits with fast-fleeting wings. See where in death our hopeful Lesbus hes ! Lesbus is dead, the favourite of kings ! Hail, light-wing'd Hopes, ye swiftest deities ! On his cold tomb we carve a voiceless flute ; For Pluto hears not, and the grave is mute. 14(5 ARATUS. ARATUS.f "Aarpojv t 'iSpiv 'Aparov 6[iov (3a\ev ovpavoficiKevs ^oiviKOS Kcipas irpwroyovovs eXiKUS. — Meleager, i. 49. The above lines sufficiently point out the writer of two short Epigrams bearing tliis name as the same with the ce- lebrated author of the " Pheenomena;" and the emblem of the Palm-tree whose branches extend to Heaven is happily typical of his devotion to the sublime science of astronomy. "Among the works of Aratus," observes Mr. Clinton, (Fasti Hell. ii. 499.) " Suidas enumerates eiriypaiifxaTa els $/\av TYjv dvyarepa 'AprnraTpov yvvalKa 3e 'Ai'riyoyov, quoted by Jacobs, torn. xiii. p. 856, without observation. But this is an error. PhUa the wife of Antigonus was daughter of Seleucus and Stratonice. Phila the daughter of Antipater was wife of Demetrius and mother of Antigonus." "We have only to add that he was a native of Soli in Cilicia, and that his residence at the court of Antigonus Gonatas, whose reign commenced B. C. 277, sufficiently marks his sera. Of his only two remaining Epigrams (those stated to have been ascribed to Phila are lost,) the first is an Epitaph of no sort of interest, — the second, which is a single cou- plet, alludes to the hard case of Diotimus, his brother bard, and is as follows. (2.) ON DIOTIMUS, A POET AND SCHOOLMASTER. M. I MOURN for Diotimus, who sits among the rocks. Hammering aU day their A, B, C, on Gargara's infant blocks. t Jacobs, i. p. 186. Brunck, i. p. 253. HEGESIPPUS. 147 HEGESIPPUS.t Tyffi S' ufi 'HyTjo-iTTTrov kveirXcKe, jiaivaSa ^orpvv. — Meleager,i. 25. Of the poet here characterized by an emblem M^hich his few remaining works do not at all justify, eight Epigrams survive, marked by a degree of simplicity which vouches, in the opuiion of Jacobs, for a higher antiquity than Reiske has assigned them, in conjccturally ascribing them to one of the same name who was a writer of the middle comedy. But the truth seems to be that nothing can safely be predi- cated concerning the date of his compositions beyond the fact of their insertion in Meleager's Garland. I. (1.) ON A SPEAR DEDICATED TO HERCULES, c. m. Receive me, Hercules, the good lance which Archestratus in battle well has tried ; That, waxing old in laurel-shaded niche. The dance and song may echo by my side. — Then farewell hateful war and martial pride. n. (2.) ON A STATUE OF DIANA. c. m. This statue, at the meeting of three ways, A maiden, still beneath her father's roof, Agelocheia, doth to Dian raise ; Who, while her busy fingers plied the woof, Appear'd before her in a sudden blaze. t Jacobs, i. p. 187. Brunck, i. p. 254. n2 148 EUPHORfON. III. (7.) THE RIGHT-HAND ROAD TO HADES, m. 'T IS by yon road, which from the funeral pyre Slopes to the right, that Hermes, it is said, Leads to the seat of Rhadamanthus dire The willing spirits of the virtuous dead. That right-hand path thy pensive ghost pursued, Lov'd Aristonous ! when it left behind Those not unmindful of the great and good. Eternal joys among the blest to find. EUPHORION.f AvxviSa. 5' ''Ev(pop!.(ovos. — Meleager, i. 23. The author here noticed under the gaudy emblem of the Piony, was a native of Chalcis, and a celebrated poet of the age and court of Antiochus the Great, B. C. 274-221. His works, which were very voluminous, are carefully enume- rated by Mr. Clinton (Fasti Hell. tom. ii. p. 511); but, with the exception of some inconsiderable fragments pre- served by Athenseus and others, nothing remains of him but two Epigrams, both which, for the sake as well of their intrinsic merit, as of the exalted reputation of the author, are here attempted. f Jacobs, i. p. 189. Brunck, i. p. 256. PHAENNUS. 1 40 I. (1.) AN OFFERING TO APOLLO. m. The first bright honours of his youthful head, PhcEbus ! to thee hath fair Eudoxus shed. Grant him, instead, his temples to adorn With greenest 1%^ on Acharnae born. II. (2.) ON A CORPSE WASHED ASHORE. m. Not rugged Trachis hides these whitening bones, Nor that black isle, whose name its colour shows ; But the wild beach, o'er which with ceaseless moans The vex'd Icarian wave eternal flows. Of Drepanus — ill-famed promontory — And there, instead of hospitable rites. The long grass sweeping tells his fate's sad story To rude tribes gather'd from the neighbouring heights. PHAENNUS.t % (1.) OFFERING OF A PRIESTESS OF DIANA, m. Thy handmaid Clio, Artemis divme ! Her infant daughters offers at thy shrine. O holy queen, the offer'd tribute grace ! And let two handmaids fill thy suppUant's place. 11. (2.) THE BLACKSMITH'S OFFERING. c. m. These tongs and pincers, and this hammer stout, Polycrates in Vulcan's temple lays ; Toihng with which, he barr'd grim hunger out. Nor vainly stro\'e his children's lot to raise. t Jacobs, i. p. 191. Brunck, i. p. 259. 152 ANTAGORAS. ANTAGORAS.f ' AvTuyopov T evcTTpo^ov ofxfia (ioos. — Meleager, i. 52. This poet, another of the Uterary ornaments of the court of Antigonus Gonatas, to whom Meleager assigns for em- blem a flower designated in the Lexicon as " the twisted ox-eyed daisy," is credited with only two Epigrams among those now remaining in the Anthology, unless we ascribe to him, on the authority of some MSS., that on the bridge of Xenocles, usually assigned to Simonides, of which see a translation, before, p. 70. He is said to have been a native of Rhodes, and was, as Pausanias informs us, a familiar friend of the accomplished sovereign at whose court he re- sided, and whose favour he shared in common with Aratus the author of the Phsenomena. To him is ascribed a heroic poem under the title of the Thebais. I. (1.) ON TWO CYNIC PHILOSOPHERS, m. Here Polemo and pious Crates lie — So speaks this column to the passers by — In life unanimous, and join'd in death. Who taught pure wisdom with inspired breath: Whose acts, accordant with the truths severe Their lips pronounc'd, bespoke the soul sincere. t Jacobs, i. p. 191. Brunck, i. p. 260. PH-EDIMUS. 153 II. (2.) CUPID'S GENEALOGY. cm. Whither shall we go to prove Tlie genealogy of Love ? Shall we call him first created Of the gods from chaos dated, WTien Erebus and Night were mated ; And their glorious progeny Sprung from out the secret sea ? Or will ^'enus claim Love's birth ? Or the roving Winds, or Earth ? For his temper varieth so. And the gifts he doth bestow (Like his form, which changeth still. Taking either sex at will,) Are now so good, and now so bad. We know not whence his heart he had. PHiEDIMUS.t 'Ev rpXoyi fli^as ^alSiHOV Meleager, i. 51. Of this poet, here characterized by a punning allusion to his name, as " the flame-coloured Iris," nothing is known but that he is mentioned by Stephanus as a citizen of Bisanthe, in Macedonia, and as a writer of elegies. There are four Epigrams in the Anthology ascribed to him. t Jacobs, i. p. 192. Bruiuk, i. p. 201. H 5 154 HERMODORUS. I. (1.) HEROIC LOVE. m. This bow that erst that earth-born Dragon slew, O mighty God of Day, restrain ! Not now those deadly shafts are due That stretch the woodland tyrants on the plain. Rather, O Phoebus ! bring thy nobler darts. With which thou piercest gentle hearts — Bid them Themistio's breast inspire With Love 's bright flame, and Valour's holy fire : Pure Valour, firm Heroic Love ; Twin Deity, supreme o'er gods above ; United in the sacred cause Of his dear native land and freedom's laws. So let him win the glorious crown His fathers wore, bright meed of fair renowTi. HERMODORUS. t SWjOtjjy (TTaxvorpixa Oi^Karo t'ctpSov 'YfivoOerav, ''Epfiov Swpov dei56fj.6vov. — Meleager, i. 43. This author, to whom one only Epigram is- ascribed among those remaining in the Anthology, must also be re- ferred to the constellation of poetical talent which adorned the court of Antigonus ; at least if the conjecture be well t Jacobs, i. p. 193. Brunck, i. p. 202. THEOCRITUS. ] 55 founded which identifies him as the author of a fragment preserved in Stobaeus under the name of Hermodotus. But this appears to be very uncertain. The couplet whicli assigns him the Syrian Spikenard, as an emblem of fra- grance, contains also another example of a pun, invited by his name. A COMPARISON. c. m. The Cnidian Venus is so passing fair. That he who stands beneath her queenly ken Shall say, " Her rule she rightfully doth bear O'er gods and mortal men." But whoso gazes on Minerva's face Full arm'd in the Cecroi^ian citadel, Shall cry, " Let Venus give to Pallas place ; — The shepherd judg'd not well !" THEOCRITUS. t About twenty Epigrams of tliis poet — some of them above the ordinary standard of merit — remain to us, besides his Idyls: and it seems extremely difficult to find a reason why he, together with his rival Bucolists, Bion and Mo- schus, is excluded from any share in the honours of Me- t Jacobs, i. p. 194. Brunck, i. p. 370. 156 THEOCRITUS. leager's Garland. On account of this exclusion, however, as well as because of the various translations already before the public of the entire works of these poets, nothing has at present been added to the translations published in the former edition, and which are now reprinted, except a very- few specimens of the Epigrams, — the only portion of these works retained by Jacobs, — and except also a single Idyl of Moschus, rendered by the Rev. W. Shepherd of Liver- pool with a degree of felicity which generally characterizes his versions from the Greek, and which, hud we been pre- viously aware of the existence of a small volume of poems published by him in the year 1829, would have superseded many of those contained in the present volume. The date assigned to Theocritus by Mr. Fynes Clinton is B. C. 272. (Idyll. XI.) THE CYCLOPS. * p. 25. m. Fob Love no potent medicine is known. No true physician but the Muse alone ; Lenient her balmy hand, and sweetly sure — But few are they for whom she works the cure. This truth my gentle Nicias holds divine, Favour'd alike by Piean and the Nine ; This truth, long since, within his rugged breast. Torn with fierce passion, Polypheme confest. 'T was when advancing manhood first had shed Tlie early pride of summer o'er his head. His Galatea on these plains he wooed ; Yet not, like other swains, the nymph pursued THEOCRITUS. 15/ With fragrant flowers, or fruits, or garlands fair, But with hot madness and abrupt despair : And wliile his bleating flocks neglected sought, "Without a shepherd's care, their fold self-taught, He, wandering on the sea-beat shore all day, Sang of his hopeless love, and pin'd away. From morning's dawn he sang, till evening's close ; Fierce were the pangs that robb'd him of repose ; Tlie might}^ Queen of Love had barb'd the dart. And deeply fix'd it rankling in his heart. Then song assuag'd the tortures of his mind, While, on a rock's commanding height reclin'd. His eye wide stretching o'er the level main, Tlius would he cheat the lingering hours of pain. " Fair Galatea, why a lover scorn ? Oh, whiter than the fleece on ^tna bom ! Coy, wild, and playfid as the mountain-roe, Bright as the cluster'd vine's meridian glow ! You come when sleep has seal'd my eye in night. Smile on my dreams, and rouse me to delight : I wake — your image flies unkind away. Or melts and fades before the coming day. I lov'd thee, maid, from that delicious hour. When with your mother first you sought my bower ; I was the guide that led you on your way. And show'd you where the fairest hyacinths lay. I lov'd thee then, and, since those days are o'er. Have never ceas'd to love thee and adore ! But you, fair virgin, care not for my pain — I know you care not, and my prayers are vain. 'T is not this rugged front, this lowering brow, (For ever haggard, but more haggard now,) — 158 THEOCRITUS. 'T is not this single eye of scorching fire (More scorching with the pangs of hot desire,) Can win a female heart, or hope to move A virgin's young and tender hreast to love. Yet, though so rude, a thousand sheep I feed. Bounteous in miUc, and ^^lenteous in their breed ; A still succeeding store my churns supply. For ever yielding, and yet never dry. Yet, rugged as I am, my breath can make The simple reed to softest music wake. None of my fellow swains can sing like me. Tuning my vocal pipe, sweet maid, to thee. How oft the listening hiUs have heard my song Ascending from the vale the whole night long ! O come, dear maid, to me ! and thou shalt hear The surgy biUow roar, and feel no fear ; While safely guarded in my arms you lie. Safe in this cavern from the inclement sky ! Oh come to me ! the verdant laurels wave With lofty cedars o'er this quiet cave. There amorous ivy creeps, and intertwines With swelling clusters of the richest vines ; . There crystal springs more cool than ^Etna's snow Gush from the hills and round my arbours flow : The limpid beverage from the fountain's brink (Worthy of gods) shall Galatea drink. — What if I seem uncouth ? this spreading wood, Wlien winter strews the plain and binds the flood. Is all my own — and through the evil days Our cheerful hearth with constant fires shall blaze. Oh, had my mother given me but to glide With cutting fins beneath the billowy tide. THEOCRITUS. 159 I then had sought thy coral cave, my fair. And brought the sweetest presents of the year ; The snowy lily from our summer's bowers. And poppy, nurs'd by autumn's dying hours ; Then might I Idss thy lovely hand, and sip (Oh daring thought ?) the honey of thy lip. — Then leave, fair nymph, those caverns where you play; And, having left, forget your homeward way ! Come, tend my sheep Mith me, or for me squeeze The hardening curd, and press the snow-white cheese. Where are thy senses, Polypheme, oh where ? She heeds not thy complaint, she mocks thy prayer. Go to thy sheep agam ! 't were better bind These ruin'd wattels, and keep out the wind. Than thus pursue with unavailing pain A scornful daughter of th' unpitying main. Go to thy home, poor wretch ! In yonder grove Are many nymphs, and some may heed thy love. There are, (and those among the loveliest fair,) Who bid me tend their flocks, their revels share : I shunn'd their haunts and fled from them before ; But now growTi wiser, I'U. refuse no more. Oft have they laugh'd to see my passion burn ; They 'U laugh no longer when I home return : Then, haughty Galatea, shalt thou prove That thou hast scorn'd what gentler virgins love !" — Thus sang the uncouth swain where Etna's brow Hangs awful, frowning o'er the deep below: Thus would he feed his love, and with the strain He calm'd his troubled heart and eas'd his pain. 160 THEOCRITUS. EPIGRAMS. I. (3.) TO DAPHNIS SLEEPING. polwhele. While, Daphnis, on the leaf-strown ground you steep Your weary body in the dews of sleep, And on the green hill-top your snares are laid, — With Pan, who hunts where erst your footsteps stray'd. The rude Priapus hastens to your cave. See on his brows the saffron ivy wave ! — But fly them, though the sultry noon-day glows — Fly the wild revellers, and forgo repose ! II. (4.) A VOW TO PRIAPUS. elton. Oh Goatherd ! wind adown that village road, Where oaks are growing. Thou wUt find beyond A new-carv'd fig-tree image. Though three-legg'd, Bark'd with rough rind, and ear-less, know, the God, Genial Priapus, speaks the soft designs Of Venus. He is circled, where he stands. With a fair chapel ; and a running brook. As clear it sparkles from the rock, looks green With myrtles, bays, and aromatic boughs Of cypress-trees ; and there a branchy vine Spreads broad its clusters. Blackbirds of the spring Re-echo shriU their varied whistling pijDC ; And tawny nightingales, perch'd opposite. Strain their sweet throats, with soft, low-gurgled tone. THEOCRITUS. 161 Sit, therefore, in that spot ; and pray the God, Gracious Priapus, that I might abhor ITie love for Daphne. Promise at my hand A goodly kid ; but, if he still deny. Three victims I devote in sacrifice ; A heifer, and a shagged goat and lamb Fed in the stall ; and may the God be kind ! III. (6.) THYRSIS HAS LOST HIS KID. c. m. What boots it, hapless Thyrsis, though your eyes Should waste in tears, your breast dissolve in sighs ? Lost is the kid — for ever lost above — Torn by the wolf's sharp fangs — the kid you love. Hark ! how the dogs upbraid thy fruitless moans ! — He left not ev'n the ashes of his bones. IV. (7.) ON THE STATUE OF tESCULAPIUS. polwhele. The son of Pseon to Miletus came To met his Nicias, of illustrious name : He, in deep reverence of his guest divine, Deck'd with the daily sacrifice his shrine ; And of the God tliis cedar statue bought — A finish'd work, by skill'd Eetion wrought. The sculptor, with a lavish sum repaid. Here all the wonders of his art display'd. 162 THEOCRITUS. V. (8.) ON A FRIEND DROWNED AT SEA. c. m. Risk not your life upon the wintry sea; With all his care man's life must fragile be : My Cleonicus sped from Syria's shore To wealthy Thasus, and rich cargo bore ; — Ah ! passing rich : — but, as the Pleiad's light In ocean set, he with them sank to night. VI. (13.) EPITAPH ON EURYMEDON. m. Thou art dead, Eurymedon, And hast left thine infant son. Thou, cut off in manhood's bloom, Hast achiev'd a speaking tomb, And a glorious seat on high With the souls that never die. He shaU live, a citizen, Worship'd by his fellow men. Who in him will glory take For his honour'd father's sake. VII. (15.) ON ANACREON. moore. Steanger, who near this statue chance to roam, Let it awhile your studious eyes engage ; And you may say, returning to your home, " I 've seen the image of the Teian sage — Best of the bards M'ho grace the Muse's page." Then, if you add, " Youth lov'd him passing well," You teU them all he was, and aptly tell. ARTEMIDORUS. 163 AlII. (20.) ON HIPPONAX, THE SATIRIST, m. Here lies Hipponax, to the Muses dear. Traveller ! if conscience sting, approach not near ! But if sincere of heart, and free from guile. Here boldly sit, and even sleep awhile. ARTEMIDORUS. t This poet, who is styled a grammarian, and supposed by Jacobs to be the same mentioned in Athenseus, (lib. iv. p. 182. ix. p. 387;) with the epithet Aristophaneus, is here introduced only on account of the following Epitaph on Theocritus, which has usually been ascribed to llieocritus himself, and printed as his in most editions. EPITAPH ON THEOCRITUS. polwhele. Theocritus my name — of Syracuse — I claim no kindred with the Chian Muse. Praxagoras' and Philinna's son, I scorn The foreign bays that others' brows adorn. f Jacobs, i. p. 194. Brunck, i. p. 263. 164 BION. BION. Flourished B. C. 275. I. (IdyU. 2.) WINGED LOVE. * p. 31. Chasing his feather'd game within the grove Young Thyrsis saw th' averted form of Love Perch'd on a boxen bough ; with joy he cries, " This giant-bird will prove a noble prize." His shafts he cuUs, applies them to his bow, And marks Love's frolic gambols to and fro ; But vain his skill — his shafts, that miss their aim. He spurns indignant, and with conscious shame Hastes to the seer who taught him first the way With certain aim to strike the winged prey. He told his tale, and bade him " look, and see The giant-bird stiU perch'd on yonder tree." The seer attentive shook his prescient head. And with a smile, — a parent's smile, — he said, " Forbear the chase — fly from this bird, my child. Away — the prey you seek is savage, -wild : Blest wilt thou prove whilst he eludes thy snares, Outwings thy shafts, and no return prepares. To manhood grown, this bird, which now retires. And shuns thy aim, and thwarts thy fierce desires, WiU haste unsought, and, 'spite of bow and dart. Play round thy head, and perch upon thy heart." BION. 165 II. (IdyU. 11.) HVAIN TO THE EVENING STAR. * p. 29. m. Mild star of Eve, whose tranquil beams Are grateful to the Queen of Love ! Fair planet, whose effulgence gleams More bright than all the host above ; And only to the moon's clear light Yields the first honours of the night ! All hail, thou soft, thou holy star, Thou glory of the midnight sky ! And when my steps are wandering far. Leading the shepherd -minstrelsy. Then, if the moon deny her raj. Oh guide me, Hes23er, on my way ! No savage robber of the dark. No foul assassin claims thy aid. To guide his dagger to its mark. Or light him on liis i^lund'ring trade ; My gentler errand is to prove Tlie transports of requited love. III. (IdyU. 16.) THE LAMENT OF THE CYCLOPS. *p. 29. b. Yet will I go beside the sounding main. And to yon solitary crags complain ; Thence, onward wandering by the sounding shore. The scorn of Galatea's brow deplore. But oh, sweet Hope ! be present to my heart, Nor with my latest, feeblest age depart. 166 BION. IV. (Idyll. 5.) THE SHORTNESS OF LIFE. * p. 188. m. If any virtue my rude songs can claim. Enough the Muse has given to build my fame ; But if condemn' d ingloriously to die. Why longer raise my mortal minstrelsy ? Had Jove or Fate to life two seasons lent, In toil and ease alternate to be spent, Then well one portion labour might employ In expectfition of the following joy. But if one only age of Hfe is due To man, and that so short and transient too, How long (ah miserable race !) in care And fruitless labour waste the vital air ? How long with idle toil to wealth aspire. And feed a never-satisfied desire ? How long forget that, mortal from our birth, Short is our troubled sojourn on the earth ? MOSCHUS. 16/ MOSCHUS. Flourished B. C. 154. He was of S}Tacuse. (Idyll. 1.) CUPID PROCLAIMED, shepherd. Oyez I cried Love's all-powerful queen. If any man has lately seen My scajoe-grace, tell me where he is ; The sweet reward shall be a kiss : — If further blisses you would rifle, I shall not stand upon a trifle. The boy 's so notable, no doubt, Among a score you'll find liim out. His slcin glows like the fiery gleam ; His eyes flash like the hghtning's beam ; His honied tongue distils with lies ; His heart is wrapp'd in dark disguise ; When passion rankles in his mind. To savage deeds the elf 's inclin'd ; And, under guise of harmless jest. He stings the unsuspecting breast. Innumerous curling tresses grace His impudent and rakish face. 168 MOSCHUS. His hands are tiny, but their power Extends to Pluto's gloomy bower. The peevish urchin carries wings, With which from heart to heart he springs ; As Uttle birds, in wanton play. Fly carelessly from spray to spray. A trinket-bow and shafts he wears. Which cany to the furthest stars. His golden quiver swings behind. With numerous fatal weapons lined. With which he deals sharp sorrows round, And dares his mother's heart to wound. His torch, with its portentous blaze. Consumes the very solar rays. If thou shalt catch tliis vagrant child, Ah, be not b)^ his tears beguil'd ; Bind fast his triclcful hands, nor heed Those smiles that secret treachery breed ; Drag him along, nor thoughtless stay To fondle with him by the way. Fly, — fly his kisses : — they inflame With every poison thou canst name ; And if he cry, " My arms I yield," Try not those deadly arms to wield : Let prudence check this mad desire, — They 're pregnant with celestial fire. MOSCHUS. 169 II. (IdyU. 5.) THE CONTRAST. * p. 354. m. O'er the smooth main when scarce a zephjT blows To break the dark-blue ocean's deep reijose, I seek the calmness of the breathing shore. Delighted with the fields and woods no more. But when, white-foaming, heave the deeps on high. Swells the black storm, and mingles sea with sky, Trembling I fly the wild tempestuous strand. And seek the close recesses of the land. Sweet are the sounds that murmur through the wood. While roaring storms uplieave the dangerous flood ; Then if the winds more fiercely howl, they rouse But sweeter music in the pine's tall boughs. Hard is the life the weary fisher finds Who trusts his floating mansion to the winds ; Whose daily food the fickle sea maintains. Unchanging labour and uncertain gains. Be mine soft sleep, beneath the sj^reading shade Of some broad leafy plane inglorious laid, LuU'd by a fountain's fall, that, murmuring near. Soothes, not alarms, the toil-worn wanderer's ear. III. (Idyll. 7.) ALPHEUS AND ARETHUSA. * p. 30. m. From where his silver waters glide. Majestic, to the ocean-tide Through fair Olympia's plain, Still his dark course Al])heus keeps Beneath the mantle of the deeps, Nor mixes with the main. I 170 MOSCHUS. To grace his distant bride, lie pours The sands of Pisa's sacred shores, And flowers that deck her grove ; Then, rising from th' unconscious brine. On Arethusa's breast di\dne Receives the meed of love. 'Tis thus with soft bewitching skill The childish God deludes our will. And triumphs o'er our pride ; The mighty river owns his force, Bends to the sway his winding course, And dives beneath the tide. EPIGRAM. CUPID TURNED PLOUGHMAN. * p. 34. prior. His lamp, his bow, and quiver laid aside, A rustic wallet o'er his shoulders tied. Sly Cupid, always on new mischiefs bent, To the rich field and furrow'd tillage went. Like any ploughman toil'd the little God ; His tune he whistled, and his wheat he sow'd : Then sat and laugh'd ; and, to the skies above Raising his eye, he thus insulted Jove : '• Lay by your hail, your hurtful storms restrain, And, as I bid you, let it shine or rain : Else you again beneath my yoke shall bow. Feel the sharp goad, and draw the servile plough ; — What once Europa was, Nanette is now." NICJENETUS. 171 NIC.ENETUS.f '2nvpvaiovs re KXadovs "SiKaiveTov. — Meleager, i. 2d. This poet was a native of Samos, as Schneider has under- taken to prove, — refuting the ^-ulgar error which, following a false interpretation of the verse of Meleager above cited, assigned to him the city of Smyrna for a birth-place, where- as the epithet ^fivpyalovs refers not to himself, but to the branch of ]M}Trh selected for his emblem. He is more than once cited in Athenaeus, (lib. i. 673. xiii. 590. xv. G73.) and it is thence to be collected that he was prior in date to Phylarchus, who is knoAvn to have flourished under the Ptolemies, Euergetes and Philopator. I. (3.) THE FETE CHAMPETRE. c. m. Not in the city be my banquet spread. But in sweet meadows, where around my head The zephjT may float freely : be my seat The mossy platform of some green retreat. Where shrubs and creepers, starting at my side. May furnish cushion smooth and carpet wide. Let wine be serv'd us, and the warbling lyre Trill forth soft numbers of the Muses' choir. -f Jacobs, i. p. 205. Brunck, i. p. 110. I 2 172 NIC^NETUS. That we, still drinking, and our hearts contenting, Still to the dulcet tunes new hymns inventing, May sing Jove's Bride, from whom those pleasures come. The guardian Goddess of our island home. II. (4.) THE PRECEPT OF CRATINUS. c m. " Wine is the Pegasus whose wings The pleasant poet plies : But he that drinks pure element Is pleasant in no wise." Thus sang Cratinus, reeking with The perfume of the cask. When he had tried to his content The strength of every flask. And as he sate, his mansion walls Festoon'd from side to side. His temples ivy-garlanded With purple Bacchus vied. THE SAME TEXT, WITHOUT THE COMMENT. MOORE. If with water you fill up your glasses. You '11 never write anything wise ; For Wine is the Horse of Parnassus, Which hurries a bard to the skies. ALEXANDER .ETOLUS. 173 ALEXANDER ^TOLUS.f 'AXe^dvSpoio veovs opirtjKas eXa'ujs. — Meleager, i. 39. "Alexander, an ^tolian," says Suidas, (torn. i. p. 105.) " of the city of Pleuron, son of Satyrus and Stratoclea ; a grammarian. He also A\Tote tragedies, and was counted one of the seven tragic poets, who are known by the appel- lation of the Pleiad." Mr. Fynes Clinton (vol. ii. p. 503,) assigns to him the dates, B. C. 273, 269, and subjoins a list of his works, principally on the authority' of Athenseus. Of these, the most considerable appear to have been two, — one entitled "Apollo," the other "The Muses"; of both which some fragments are preserved, of sufficient im- portance to create a favourable impression of the author's merits, even independently of the high eulogies conferred on him by several writers of antiquity. His Epigrams are three in number. That now selected is remarkable, as ex- liibiting the opinion entertained in the time of Alexander on the disputed point of the birth and parentage of one who has been styled the Father of Erotic poetry. (3.) ON ALCMAN, THE LYRIC POET. m. Sardis, my ancient Father-land ! Hadst thou, by Fate's supreme command, f Jacobs, i. p. 207. Bruiick, i. p. 418. 174 CALLIMACHUS. My helpless childhood nourished, I must have begg'd my daily bread. Or else, a beardless priest become. Have toss'd Cybele's frantic drum. Now Alcman I am call'd, — a name Inscrib'd in Sparta's lists of Fame, — Whose many tripods record bear Of solemn wreaths and trophies rare Achiev'd in worship at the shrine Of th' Heliconian maids divine, By whose great aid I 'm mounted higher Than Gyges or his wealthy sire. CALLIMACHUS.f 7)Sv re nvprov KaXXiixaxov, aTV(pe\ov nedTov del jueXtros. — Meleager, i. 21. It may be difficult altogether to justify the having set apart so confined a space as is here assigned to a poet of such celebrity, to whom the distinguished emblem of the Myrtle has been ascribed in Meleager's poetical Garland, accompa- nied by the odd characteristic — " steeped in bitter honey," — which is conjectured by Martin to have been bestowed on him on account of a lost poem entitled " Ibis." Of the sixty-three Epigrams, however, comprised in Jacobs, a f Jacobs, i. p. 212. Brunck, i. p. 4C1. CALLIMACHUS. 1/5 large proportion must, on account of the subjects, be either passed over by a translator, or else so altered in meaning as to bear no resemblance to the oricrinal. Tlie Hymns and Fragments, together wdth most of the Epigrams here se- lected, and some others, have already found Enghsh trans- lators of established reputation. The date assigned to this poet by Clinton is B. C. 256 ; which must be re- garded as a late period in his career ; since he certainly flourished under Ptolemy Philadelphus, B. C. 288—247 ; and the meridian of his fame may probably be fixed at about B. C. 280, by his lost poem on the Lock of Berenice's Hair, which was afterwards, by some courtly astronomer, in- scribed in the list of constellations. I. (4.) THE DIVIDED SOUL. m. Half of my soul yet breathes : the rest, I know not whether Cupid or Hades have possest; 'T is altogether Vanish'd. Among the Virgin train Perhaps 't is straying — O ! send the wanderer home again. Or chide its staying ! Perhaps on fair Cephisa's breast 'T is captive lying. Of old it sought that haven of rest, WTien almost dying. 176 CALLIMACHUS. II. (11.) THE CHASE. m. Mark, Epicycles, how the hunter bears His honours in the chase — when timid hares And nobler stags he tracks through frost and snow, O'er mountains echoing to the vales below. Then, if some clown halloos — " Here, master, here Lies panting at your feet the stricken deer," — He takes no heed, but starts for newer game. Such is my love, and such his arrow's aim That follows still with speed the flying fair. But deems the yielding slave below his care. III. (15.) THE SERENADE, m. Such sleep, Conopion, on thine eyelids wait. As sits on his now shivering at thy gate ! Such sleep, thou false one, as thou bidst him prove. Who vainly sues thy stony breast to move ! Not ev'n a shade of pity thou 'It bestow : Others may weep to see me suffer so ; But thou — not ev'n a shade — O cruel fan- ! Be this remember' d with thy first gray hair ! IV. (16.) ON BERENICE, DAUGHTER OF PHI- LADELPHUS. m. Four are the Graces. With the Tliree of old Be Berenice's heavenly form enroll'd. Breathing fresh odours. — They no more would be Gra es themselves, without her company. CALLrMACHUS. I// V. (31.) THE OFFERING OF A NAUTILUS. * p. 424. m. QuEEx of the ZephjT's breezy cape ! to thee This polish'd shell, the treasure of the sea. Her earliest offspring, young Selena bears, Join'd with the incense of her maiden prayers. ErewhUe with motion, power and sense endued. Alive it floated on the parent flood ; When, if the gale more rudely breath'd, it gave Its natural sail expanded to the wave ; But while the biUows slept upon the shore. And the tempestuous winds forgot to roar. Like some proud galley, floated on the tide. And busy feet the want of oars suj^plied. Shipwreck'd at last upon the lulian strand. It now, Arsinoe, asks thy favouring hand ; — No more its vows the plaintive halcyon hail. For the soft breathings of a western gale ; But that, O mighty queen ! thy genial power On young Selena every gift may shower, That love with beauteous innocence can share : For these, and only these, accept the prayer ! VI. (47.) ON THE DEATH OF A FRIEND. * p. 288. I HEARD thy fate, old comrade, not unmov'd : A bitter tear my recollection prov'd, I 5 178 CALLIMACHUS. How oft conversing with my parted friend, I scarce have seen the summer sun descend : And thou, dear guest ! cold ashes art become. In an unknown, a last, eternal home ! Yet, like sad Philomel's, thy tuneful breath Survives, triumphant o'er the robber Death. ANOTHER VERSION OF THE SAME. cm. They told me of thy death, my Heraclite, And much it griev'd me ; for it brought to mind Our free and frequent converse — noon to night ; — But thou art dust, far scatter'd by the wind. Yet shall thy songs, like birds in tuneful flight, Sail on, and leave the robber, Death, behind. ANOTHER. H. N. c. They told me, Heraclitus, thou wert dead ; And then I thought, and tears thereon did shed. How oft we two talk'd down the sun : but thou, Halicarnassian guest ! art ashes now. Yet live thy nightingales of song ; on those Forgetfulness her hand shall ne'er impose. VII. (49.) EPITAPH ON A GOOD MAN. * p. 294. h. Beneath this tomb Acanthian Saon lies In holy sleep : — the Good Man never dies. CALLIMACHUS. 1/9 VIII. (57.) ON A FRIEND DROWxNED AT SEA. * p. 2S7. b. Oh ! had no venturous keel defied the deep. Then had not Lycid floated on the brine ! For him, the youth belov'd, we pass and weep, A name lamented, and an empty shrine. IX. (59.) ON A BROTHER AND SISTER, m. We buried him at dawn of day : Ere set of sun his sister lay, Self-slaughter'd, by his side. Poor Basile ! she could not bear Longer to breathe the vital air. When Melanippus died. Thus in one fatal hour was left, Of both a parent's hopes bereft, Their desolated sire ; While all Cyrene mourn'd to see The blossoms of her stateliest tree By one fell blight expire. X. (GO.) " LONGING AFTER IMMORTALITY." * p. 113. m. " O SUN, farewell !" — from the taU rampart's height, Cleombrotus exclaiming, plung'd to night ! 180 CALLIMACHUS. Nor wasting care, nor fortune's adverse strife Chill'd his young hopes with weariness of life ; But Plato's godlike page had fix'd his eye. And made him long for immortality. XL (62.) EPITAPH ON HIS FATHER. m. Know thou, this tomb Avho passest by, At once both sire and son am I To a name most dear to us, Cyrenean Callimachus. One of his country was the shield In many a glorious battle-field ; The other sang so sweet a strain. That Envy listen' d with disdain. But strove to vanquish him in vain. For him on whom the Muses smil'd Ev'n at his birth — their favourite child — In age they never wlU forsake. But his gray hairs their temple make. XII. (63.) EPITAPH ON HIMSELF. Beside the tomb where Battus' son is laid. Thy heedless feet, O passenger! have stray'd. Well skill'd in all the minstrel's lore was he. Yet had his hour for sport and jollity. M. MENECRATES. 181 XIII. EPITAPH ON A DRINKER. * p. 459. u. " Thee, too, Lysander, doth the grave compel ! Which of thy various wines hath vanquish'd thee } Doubtless the same by which the Centaur fell." " My hour was come ; and, friend, 't were quite as well To spare good wine so foul a calumny." MENECRATES.f "Poi^s dvQ?] irpiora Meve/cpdreos. — Meleager, i. 28. The poet thus designated by the first blossoms of the Pomegranate, was a native of Smyrna, and may have been the same with a comic poet of that name blunderingly no- ticed by Vossius (De Poet. Gra?c. p. 227), and who is else- where called an Ephesian, — but of tliis there is no certainty. In Clinton (Fast. Hell. ii. p. 562), mention is made of Me- necrates of Elsea, a disciple of Xenocrates. Only two Epi- grams bearing that name are now extant in the Anthology. I. (1.) THE DISTRACTED MOTHER. m. Twice had the wretched mother to the tomb Borne the sad produce of her teeming womb ; A third in bitterness of soul she gave To feed the fierce insatiable grave : t Jacobs, i. p. 227. Bniiick, i. p. 170. 182 TxHIANUS. But when a fourth time destin'd to sustain That heavy load of ill-requited pain. Then, madly desperate of a better fate, The greedy flames she dar'd anticipate, And to their rage her living fruit consign'd ; Saying — " No longer shall this bosom find Nurture for those whom Pluto claims his due. — If I must mourn, I will not labour too." IT. (2.) ON OLD AGE. For age we pray, when at a distance seen ; But when arriv'd, we loathe its hideous mien. We spurn it ever, as a boon bestow'd. And prize it most when as a debt 't is ow'd. RHIANUS.t M. EafiTpvxov aip' ii^vwoio 'Viavov. — Meleager, i. 11. " The Marjoram of the sweet-breathing Rhianus." " Rhianus was a native of Bena in the Isle of Crete. He was, originally, master of the Palaestra, or circus of gym- nastic exercises, but was afterwards distinguished as a poet and grammarian. He wrote a history of Messene in t Jacobs, i. p. 229. Brunck, i. p. 479. RHIANUS. 183 vei'se, of which the accuracy is praised by Pausanias ; and composed similar historic poems on diiFerent Grecian states. Suetonius relates that Tiberius was particularly partial to the poems of Rhianus, and that he placed his bust in the ])ublic libraries, among those of the most eminent poets. There is dignitj^ in his moral fragments ; but his Epigrams, although elegant, are tainted with the depravity of the times." Nothing needs be added to this short statement by Mr. Elton, from whom we take the further liberty of borrowing a single specimen of the author. His date is fixed at B. C. 222, in the Fast. Hell, ii, p. 512, where a list of his works will be found. (6.) A LOVER'S WISH. elton. Dexionica, with a limed thread. Her snare beneath a verdant plane-tree spread. And caught a blackbird by the quivering wing : Tlie struggling bird's shrill outcries piping ring. God of Love ! O Graces, blooming fair ! 1 would that I a thrush, or blackbird, were ; So, in her grasp, to breathe my murmur'd cries, And shed a sweet tear from my silent eyes ! 181 HEDYLUS. HEDYLUS.f 'Ef ^6 Tloaeicnnrdv re kuI 'USvXov — aypi dpoupijs. — Meleager, i. 45. Hedylus was a native, it is said, of Sicily, and a pastoral poet, who lived in the time of Ptolemy Philadelphus, ahout B. C. 260. To the seven Epigrams of his composition contained in the Anthology of Planudes, Jacobs has added four, taken from the Deipnosophistse of Athenseus, all illus- trative of the noble science which it is the object of the " Almanac des Gourmands " to refine and consecrate. In one he invites his friends to hold pleasant and witty con- verse amidst their cups. Another is addressed to a certain Pasisocles, a strenuous wine-bibber and sweet composer of verses. In a third,he celebrates a fish dinner, performed with closed doors, for the purpose of excluding one Agis, who was such a Helluo of this species of luxury, that the rest of the party would have reason to fear a total monopoly of their viands if he had been admitted to partake of them, — a precaution which at the same time he seems to doubt might prove ineffectual, when he considers that Agis was capable of assuming as many forms as Proteus in order to accomplish his purpose, and would scarcely use more cere • mony in penetrating to their banquet-room for the attain- ment of such an object, than Jove did in brealdng through f Jacobs, i. p. 233. Brunck, ii. p. 526. HEDYLUS. 185 the tower of brass to gain possession of Danae. Tliis is in the true stj'le of Grecian hyperbole ; but the two here se- lected are in somewhat better taste. I. (1.) ANACREONTIC. m. Drink we ! — 'midst our flowing wine Something new, or something fine, Something witty, something gay. We shall ever find to say. Flasks of Chian hither bring, Sprinlding o'er me, whilst you sing, " Jovial poet, sport and play ! Sober souls throw life away." II. (6.) GOUT. * p. 437. m. Whilst on soft beds your pillow'd limbs recline, Dissolv'd by Bacchus and the Queen of Love, Remember, Gout 's a daughter of that line — And she '11 dissolve them soon, my friend — by Jove! 186 SAMIUS. SAMIUS.f ^afiiov Sdcpvrjs K\wva fieXcifiTreraXov. — Meleager, i. 14. This poet, to whom the proud distinction of the Laurel is here assigned as an emblem, has only two Epigrams as- cribed to him in the Anthology ; both on one courtly theme, — a great hunting achievement by Philip King of Macedon (son of Demetrius), who, it seems, had the glory of killing a wild bull on the plain beneath Mount Orbelus in Thes" saly. However illustrious the subject, our readers will probably consider a single specimen sufficient. I. (1.) ON A WILD BULL SLAIN BY KING PHILIP, m. The mighty bull's capacious hide. And horns — the forest's stately pride — Are ofFer'd, Hercules, to thee. By a kingly votary ; Who with jav'lin fierce aiTested Tlie bellowing monster's mad career, Braving the fury of his spear, t Jacobs, i. p. 236. Brunck, i. p. 485. alcjEUs of messene. 187 Beneath Orbelus' heights, where long In verdant pastures unmolested, He rang'd his subject herds among. O blest ^mathia, to obey A chief so fam'd for warlike sway ! ALC.EUS OF MESSENE. t Of this author, — whose name is not included in Meleager's Garland, unless we sujopose that to him, instead of his much older namesake, is to be ascribed the emblem of the tale-bearing Hyacinth, Xd\i]6pov ev vfivoTToXois vaKivQov, — the twentj^-two remaining Epigrams furnish a very copious running commentary upon the life and actions. From them we learn that he was an ardent partizan of the Romans, who, under the command of Titus Flaminius, were at that time hailed as the liberators of Greece ; nor was he less ardent in his hostility to King Philip, whose defeat by the Roman general at the battle of Cynoscephal* gave occasion to the last of his Epigrams, which is the last also of those contained in the present selection, and demands a brief ex- planation. — The ^>tolians, who were then in alUance with t Jacobs, i. p. 237. Brunck, i. p. 48C. 188 ALC^US OF MESSENE. Rome, were, it seems, beyond measure elated with pride on account of the share which they claimed in the acliieve- ment of the victory above alluded to ; and our poet, who had already reviled the Macedonian tyrant in more than one Epigram, made this the foundation of a new lampoon. Philip, stung to the quick, retorted the insult by giving utterance to the following parody, in which he pretty broadly insinuates the chastisement designed by him for the poet in case he should ever have the good fortune to catch him. " Uiibark'd and leafless, passenger, you see, Fix'd in this mound, Alcaeus' gallows-tree." (See Jacobs, vol. i. p. 243.) I. (7.) ON HOMER. hatgarth. The visionary dream of life is o'er; ITie bard of heroes sleeps on los' shore. Fair los' sons their lamentations pay. And wake the funeral dirge or solemn lay. O'er his pale lifeless corse and drooping head Ambrosial sweets the vv'eeping Nereids shed, And on the shore their slumbering poet laid Beneath the towering mountain's peaceful shade. Nor undeserv'd their care — his tuneful tongue Achilles' wrath and Thetis' sorrows sung ; His strains Laertes' son in triumph bore. Through woes unnumber'd, to his native shore. Blest isle of los ! on thy rocky steeps The Star of Song — the Grace of Graces — sleeps. ALCEUS OF MESSENE. 189 II. (16.) ON THE EXPEDITION OF FLAMINIUS. m. Xerxes from Persia led his mighty host. And Titus, his, from fair Italia's coast. Both warr'd with Greece : but here the difference see — That brought a yoke — this gives her liberty. III. (18.) ON HIPPONAX. * p. 298. b. Thy tomb no purple clusters rise to grace. But thorns and briars choke the fearful place ; These herbs malign, and bitter fruits supply. Unwholesome juices to the passer-by ; And as, Hipponax, near thy tomb he goes, Shuddering he turns, and prays for thy repose. IV. (22.) ON THE MACEDONIANS SLAIN AT CYNOSCEPHALvE. m. Unmourn'd, unburied, passenger, we lie. Three myriad sons of fruitful Thessaly, In this wide field of monumental clay. ./Etolian Mars had mark'd us for his prey ; Or he, who bursting from th' Ausonian fold. In Titus' form, the waves of battle roll'd ; And taught ^mathia's boastful lord to run So swift, that swiftest stags were by his speed outdone. 190 tlOSCORIDES. DIOSCORIDES.f t^' kv Movcraiffiv afxeivov "Os Atos e/c Koupojv ecrxev eTVixJvvfxiav. — Meleager, i. 23. The author whose name is played upon in the above pun- ning distich, is supposed to be the same with the philoso- pher Dioscorides, (mentioned by Diogenes Laertius,) who flourished at Alexandria under Ptolemy Euergetes, about B. C. 230, and is not to be confounded with Dioscorides the physician, who lived in the time of Cleopatra. Of near forty Epigrams, some are of a character very unbecoming a philosopher, and others too trivial to be noticed ; but a few are of superior quality, although, even of these, the greater part are on subjects that have been better treated by others. I. (33.) SPARTAN VIRTUE. * p. 117. m. When Thrasybulus from th' embattled field Was breathless borne to Sparta on his shield. His honour'd corse disfigur'd still with gore From seven wide wounds, (but all receiv'd before,) Upon the pyre his hoary father laid, And to th' admiring crowd tiiumphant said, ■f Jacobs, i. p. 244. Brunck, i. p. 493. TYMNEUS. 191 " Let slaves lament — while I without a tear Lay mine and Sparta's son upon his bier." IL (36.) THE PERSIAN SLAVE TO HIS MASTER. MASTER ! shroud my body, when I die. In decent cerements, from the \ailgar eye. But bum me not upon your funeral pyre. Nor dare the gods and desecrate their fire : 1 am a Persian ; 't were a Persian's shame To dip his body in the sacred flame. Nor o'er my wortliless limbs your waters pour ; For streams and fountains Persia's sons adore ; — But give me to the clods which gave us birth. For dust should go to dust, and man to earth. C. M. TYMNEUS.f Tvfiveu) T evTTtToXov XevKTji'. — Melcager, i. 19. Of this poet— the White Poplar of Meleager's Garland- nothing whatever is known ; nor do any of his six remain- ing Epigrams furnish materials for even conjecture. Reiske supposes him to have been contemporary with Melcager, t Jacobs, i. 2jG. Bruiick, i. 505. 192 TYMNEUS. and a native of Crete, only because the Cretan city of Eleu- themse is named in the Epitaph on Philsenis as the place of her interment. But the name, Tymnes, or Tymneus, would seem, from Herodotus, vii. 98, to be of Carian origin. I. (4.) SPARTAN VIRTUE. * p. 118. m. Demetrius, when he basely fled the field, A Spartan born, his Spartan mother kill'd ; Then stretching forth the bloody sword, she cried, (Her teeth fierce gnashing with disdainful pride,) " Fly, cursed offspring, to the shades below. Where proud Eurotas shall no longer flow For timid hinds like thee! — Fly, trembling slave, Abandon'd wretch, to Pluto's darkest cave ! This womb so vile a monster never bore ; Disown' d by Sparta, thou 'rt my son no more." II. (5.) EPITAPH. * p. 291. m. Grieve not, Fhilsenis, though condemn'd to die Far from thy parent soil and native sky ; Though strangers' hands must raise thy funeral pile. And lay thy ashes in a foreign isle : To all on Death's last dreary journey bound The road is equal, and alike the ground. POLYSTRATUS. 193 POLYSTRATUS.t Ev d' dp' CLjiapaKOV rjKe, TloXiffrparov, av9os aoiSuiv. Meleager, i. 41. The herb sweet marjoram, here designated as " the Flower of Poets," (probably from the frequent use which was made of it for the purposes of anointment,) would, as the emblem selected for Polystratus, seem to indicate a high degree of eminence in the estimation of the collector ; but what re- mains to us of his %\Titings is too inconsiderable to enable us to form any judgement how far the distinction was me- rited. Of the two Epigrams wliich survive, — one, which is here translated, serves, by its allusion, as a recent event, to the destruction of Corinth (01. clviii. B. C. 146), to fix the period at which he flourished. (2.) ON THE DESTRUCTION OF CORINTH, cm. AcH^AN Acrocorinth, the bright star Of Hellas, with its narrow Isthmian bound, Lucius o'ercame ; in one enormous mound Piling the dead, conspicuous from afar. Thus, to the Greeks denying funeral fires. Have great Eneas' later progeny Perform'd high Jove's retributive decree. And well aveng'd the city of their sires. t Jacobs, ii. p. 1. Briinck, ii. p. I. K 194 PERSES. PERSES.t Tlepffov T 6vu)5t] axivov. — Meleager, i. 26. Of this poet, to whom Meleager has also assigned an odoriferous plant in his emblematic Garland, still less is known than of the preceding; since none of the eight Epigrams inscribed with his name afford any trace of the period at which he may be supposed to have flourished. The following has been selected by way of specimen, not only as the most considerable in length, but the most peculiar in subject, of his remaining compositions. Those who have seen that exquisite work of sculpture, the group executed by Chantrey for the monument of Miss Johnes of Hafod, will not fail to be struck by the resemblance which it bears, both in the subject and in the manner of treating it, to that here commemorated, — so close that, with the excep- tion of a single word in the original allusive to the immediate cause of the calamity, the entire Greek epigram might with propriety be inscribed on the tomb of the British sufferer. (4.) ON THE MONUMENT OF A DAUGHTER, m. Unblest Mnasylla ! — on this speaking tomb What means the type of emblematic gloom ? ■\ Jacobs, ii. p. 3. Brunck, ii. p. 4. DAMAGETES. 195 Thy lost Callirhoe we here sun-ey Just as she moan'd her ebbing soul away. Just as the death-mists o'er her eyelids fell, In those maternal arms she lov'd so well. There, too, the speechless father sculptur'd stands. That cherish'd head supporting with his hands. Alas ! alas ! — thus grief is made to flow A ceaseless stream — eternity of woe. DAMAGETES.t 'Ev 5' apa Aafiayrirov, lov fieXav. — Meleager, i. 21. The emblem of the deep-purple — literally the black — violet, here given to Damagetes, may be supposed to have been se- lected on account of the mournful nature of the subjects which he appears to have habitually chosen, and the tender melancholy which characterizes the method of his treat- ment. We have twelve of his Epigrams remaining, almost all of a hke lugubrious character ; but the two here selected will probably be regarded as worthy to have been distin- guished from the rest by their peculiar merit. In another, which is of a more common character, " Arsinoe daughter of Ptolemy " is made to dedicate a lock of her hair to Diana; which, if it refer to Arsinoe daughter of Ptolemy Euergetes, t Jacobs, ii. p. 39. Brunck, ii. p. 38. K 2 196 DAMAGETES. who married her brother Philopator, and became the mother of Ptolemy Epiphanes (B. C. 209), would fix him as having flourished about that period. I. (10.) EPITAPH ON TWO THEBAN BROTHERS SLAIN IN THRACE. m. By Jove, the God of strangers, we implore Thee, gentle pilgrim, to the vEolian shore (Our Theban home,) the tidings to convey, That here we lie, to Thracian wolves a prey. This to our father, old Charinus, tell ; And, with it, this, — We mourn not that we fell In early youth, of all our hopes bereft ; But that lus darkening age is lonely left. II. (11.) ON A WIFE DYING IN HER HUSBAND'S ABSENCE. M. These the last words Theano, swift descending To the deep shades of night, was heard to say — " Alas ! and is it thus my life is ending. And thou, my husband, far o'er seas away ? Ah ! could I but that dear hand press with mine Once — once again ! — all else I 'd, pleas'd, resign. THEODORIDES. 197 THEODORIDES.f Tov T€ (pi\aKpT]TOV OeoOoipiSew veoOaXri "EpirvWov. Meleagei, i. 53. From the emblem here assigned to this poet, that of wild ThjTne, " that loves the unadulterated juice of the grape," it might be suspected that he was of the school of Ana- creon ; but there is nothing in any of the eighteen very ordinary Epigrams which remain with his name attached to them, either to bear out such a conjecture, or to lead to any satisfactory conclusion as to his age and country. I. (10.) EPITAPH ON AN USURER. m. Without the aid of crutch — entire of limb — Sen-ant of Mercury ! to hell thou goest : Whose king will, pleas'd, receive thee, since to him Thou freely renderest all the debt thou owest. II. (18.) ON AN ANCIENT MONUMENT OF HERACLITUS. m. RovKDED by age, and, like some pebble-stone O'er which the wild wave dashes, shapeless grown. No letters speak — no graven image tells — That here the dust of Herachtus dwells. But still with Fame's loud trumpet I proclaim The barking Cur's imperishable name. t Jacobs, iu p. 42. Brunck, ii. p. 41. 198 posiDippus. POSIDIPPUS.f This author, whose name is coupled with that of Hedylus in a line already quoted from Meleager's Garland, appears to have been nearly contemporary with that collector, although nothing can be traced with any certainty as to his life or connexions. Of about twenty Epigrams remain- ing to us, the greater part are of an amatory complexion, and some possessing a degree of merit which might pos- sibly be judged sufficient to demand translation, but that they are little more than duplicates, both in subject and expression, of others to be found scattered in the Antholo- gy, some by later, and others by earlier authors. The well- known contrast presented by the two rival pictures of hu- man life inscribed with the names of this poet and his parodist Metrodorus, has been so often exhibited in differ- ent forms of translation, that another version might perhaps have been spared, had not the former edition of these Col- lections contained an attempt which, upon re-examination, was found so defective as to call for correction. The age of the laughing parodist was undoubtedly much posterior to that of the crying philosopher ; but it would be absurd to disjoin them upon a mere punctilio of chronological arrange- ment ; and whether our " Jean qui rit " is to be referred, with some authorities, to the age of Mithridates, or, with others, to that of Constantine, — so uncertain are we as to the t Jacobs, ii. p. 46. Brunck, ii. p. 46. posiipippus. 199 true date to be assigned to him,— does not at all matter with a view to placing him, on the present occasion, side by side with his elder brother. (16.) PICTURE OF HUMAN LIFE. * p. 105. m. What path of life would man desire to keep ? Wrangling and strife the forum yields : at home Are cares ; abroad, incessant toils : the deep Is vex'd with storms : an exile would'st thou roam ? If wealthy, fears ; if needy, slights await. Would'st seek to wed .'' Expect not so to shun The general doom, Would'st choose a single state ? In joyless gloom thy heavy hours will run. Children are plagues ; a childless life 's accurst : Folly 's in youth ; in age fresh infancy. Never to have been bom, the mse man first Would wish ; and next, as soon as born, to die. PARODY OF THE PRECEDING.! BY METRODORUS. * p. 106. M- Whatever path of life you choose to tread, Praise and wise deeds the active forum yields ; At home is rest to crown your grateful bed. And all the charms of Nature deck the fields. t Jacobs, iii. p. 180. Brunck, ii. p. 476. 200 posiDippus. Bright hopes of fortune waft us o'er the deep ; And, should we chance in foreign climes to stray. If rich, we 're honour'd ; and, if poor, may keep Unmark'd the modest tenor of our way. If married, blest and honour'd is your state ; If single, stni you 're blest, because you 're free ; The father joys ; no cares the childless wait ; In youth is strength, in grey hairs dignity. Then false the lay that bids men hate to live. Since every form of life can pleasure give. II. (19.) ON THE TOMB OF A SHIPWRECKED MARINER. A. F. M. Oh why, my brother mariners, so near the boist'rous wave Of ocean have ye hollow'd out my solitary grave ? 'T were better that far hence a sailor's tomb should be. For I dread my rude destroyer — I dread the roaring sea. But may the smiles of fortune — may love and peace await All you who shed a tear for poor Nicetas' hapless fate ! ANTI PATER OF SIDON. 201 ANTIPATER OF SIDON.f 4>oti/i(T(T«i' re veav Kvirpov an' 'AvriTrarpov. — Meleager, i. 42. The plant here designated as the young purple Cyprus, appears to be a species of Privet, known by the botanical name of Lausonia inermis, and selected as a fit emblem for this distinguished poet, rather perhaps on account of its being indigenous to the Phoenician soil, than by reason of any characteristic fitness in its nature or properties. With regard to the chronology of Antipater, it is fixed by a chain of circumstantial evidence with a very reason- able degree of precision. From this it appears that he was contemporary with Meleager, the first collector of the An- thology, by whom he was not only included m the poetical preface to his Collection, but also commemorated in an Epitaph, which further establishes the fact of Meleager having survived him. That he was certainly li\ang as late as B. C. 127, and probably to a later period, is inferred from a passage in Cicero (de Oratore, iii. 50), where he is men- tioned as having been well known to Q. Catulus, the Con- sul, — an acquaintance which, it is proved, could not have taken place at any time earlier than the date above noticed. Hence also it seems to be satisfactorily established, that one of his Epigrams (the 99th in Jacobs's Collection), which commemorates the loss of a son sustained by one of the Ptolemies, kings of Egypt, has reference to Ptolemy Philo- t Jacobs, ii. p. 5. Brunck, ii. p. 0. K 5 202 ANTIPATER OF SIDON. mater, who reigned from B. C. 164 to 146; and not (as Reiske has hastily conjectured,) to Ptolemy Epiphanes, in which case the Epigram must have been composed before B. C. 1 81, that is, full fifty-four years before the earliest pos- sible period that can be assigned to the date of his acquaint- ance with Catulus. (See Clinton, Fast. Hell. ii. p. 527.) Besides these particulars as to his history, we learn from the Epitaph of Meleager already alluded to, that he was descended from a wealthy and noble family in his native town, where it is probable that he himself enjoyed a sta- tion of considerable eminence. AccorcUng to the report of Pliny (Hist. Nat. vii. 52), he hved to an advanced age ; and, in the passage of Cicero already referred to, we have the authority of that great critic as to his extraordinary facihty in the art of pouring forth extempore verses, — a facility to which may perhaps be ascribed a flatness and insipidity, both in subject and expression, of most of the Epigrams to which his name is annexed, below the ordi- nary level of the Anthology, and unworthy the high repu- tation which he appears to have enjoyed. It may be added that the greater part, even of these, are mere rifaccimenti of earher and better Epigrams by Leonidas and others; but it must also be noticed that, of nearly one hundred and twenty Epigrams printed under the head of the Sidonian Antipater, only forty- three have the distinguishing epithet Sidonius annexed to them in the early echtions of the An- thology ; so that, of the remainder it is at least uncertain whether they belong to this poet, or to his namesake An- tipater of Thessalonica. ANTI PATER OF SI DON. 203 I. (1.) WINE. * p. 80. B. The wizards, at my first nativity, Declar'd, with one accord, I soon should die : What if — o'er all impends that certain fate — I \'isit gloomy Minos soon or late ? Wine, like a racer, brings me there with ease ; The sober souls way walk it if they please. II. (7.) AGAINST WATER-DRINKERS. m. Bacchus found me yesterday. As at my fvill length stretch'd I lay. Sated with the crj'stal tide. The God stood frowming at my side. And said — " Such sleep upon thee waits As those attends whom Venus hates. Say, idiot ! didst thou never hear Of one Hippolytus ? — Beware ! His destiny may else be thine." He left me then — the God of Wine ; But ever since this thing befell, I 've loath'd the notion of a well. III. (8.) " UNDER THE ROSE. * p. 80." m. Not the planet that, sinking in ocean. Foretells future storms to our tars ; Not the sea when, in fearful commotion, Its billows swell high as the stars ; 204 ANTIPATER OF SIDON. Not the thunder that rolls in October Is so hateful to each honest fellow, As he who remembers, when sober, The tales that were told him when mellow. IV. (9.) THE WIDOW'S OFFERING. * p. 426. m. To Pallas, Lysistrata ofFer'd her thimble And distaff, of matronly prudence the symbol : " Take this too," she said; " then, farewell, mighty queen ! I 'm a widow, and just forty winters have seen ; So thy yoke I renounce, and henceforward decree To live with Love's goddess, and jjrove that I 'm free." V. (38.) ON A VINE EMBRACING A PLANE. * p. 111. See yonder blushing Aane-tree grow. And clasp a dry and wither' d plane. And round its youthful tendrUs throw, A shelter fi-om the wind and rain. That sapless trunk in former time Gave covert from the noon-tide blaze. And taught the infant shoot to climb. That now the pious debt repays. Ev'n so, kind Powers ! a partner give To share in my prosperity ; Hang on my strength while yet I live. And do me honour when I die. ANTIPATER OF SIDON. 205 VI. (45.) ON HOMER'S BIRTH-PLACE. m. From Colophon some deem thee sprung ; From Sm}TTia some, and some from Chios : These noble Salamis have sung, Wliile those proclaim thee bom in los ; And others cry up Thessaly, The mother of the Lapithae. Thus each to Homer has assign'd The birth-place just which suits his mind. But, if I read the volume right By Phcebus to his followers given, I 'd say. They 're all mistaken quite, And that his real country 's Heaven ; WTiUe for his mother — she can be No other can Calliope. VII. (47.) ON ERINNA. * p. 299. h. Few were thy notes, Erinna, short thy lay, — But thy short lay the Muse herself has giv'n ; Thus never shall thy memory decay, Nor night obscure thy fame, which lives in Heav'n : While we, th' unnumber'd bards of after times. Sink in the melancholy grave unseen, Unhonour'd reach Avernus' fabled climes. And leave no record that we once have been. 206 ANTIPATER OF SIDON. Sweet are the graceful swan's melodious lays, Though but an instant heard, and then they die ; But the long chattering of discordant jays The winds of April scatter through the sky. VIII. (48.) ON PINDAR. m. As the loud trumpet to the goatherd's pipe. So sounds thy lyre, all other sounds surpassing ; Since round thy lips, in infant fulness ripe, Swarm'd honey'd bees, their golden stores amassing. Thine, Pindar ! be the palm — by him decreed Who holds on Maenalus his royal sitting ; Who for thy love forsook his simple reed. And hymns thy lays in strains a God befitting. IX. (50.) ON THE DESTRUCTION OF CORINTH. * p. 119. b. Where has thy grandeur, Corinth ! shrunk from sight, Thy ancient treasures, and thy rampart's height. Thy godlike fanes and palaces — O where Thy mighty myriads and majestic fair } Relentless war has pour'd around the waU, And hardly spar'd the traces of thy fall. We nymphs of Ocean deatldess yet remain. And sad and silent sorrow near thy plain. ANTI PATER OF SI DON. 207 X. (67.) ON ORPHEUS. * p. 297. b. No more, sweet OqDheus ! shalt thou lead along Oaks, rocks, and savage monsters with thy song. Fetter the winds, the struggling hailstorm chain. The sno-wy desert soothe, and sounding main ; For thou art dead ; — the Muses o'er thy bier. Sad as thy parent, pour the tuneful tear. Weep we a child ? Not ev'n the gods can save Their glorious offspring from the hated grave. XI. (70.) ON SAPPHO. H. Does Sappho, then, beneath thy bosom rest, yEohan earth ! — that mortal Muse, confest Inferior only to the choir above. That foster-child of Venus and of Love, Warm from whose lips divine Persuasion came To ravish Greece and raise the Lesbian name ? O ye I who ever twine the threefold thread. Ye Fates, why number with the silent dead That mighty songstress, whose unrivall'd powers Weave for the Muse a crown of deathless flowers ? THE SAME. c. ii. Thou mortal sister of th' immortal Nine, Whom Venus lov'd, and Venus' lovelier boy. While soft Persuasion made thy strains divine. With sweetest words, and tunes that never cloy. 208 ANTIPATER OF SIDON. folia's pride, and Hellas' darling joy ! Sappho ! the Fates, that wanton as they choose. Weaving the triple skein in curst employ. For all thy fame, did length of years refuse ; Nor car'd for thine eternal present to the Muse. XII. (72.) ON ANACREON. * p. 297. b. Grow, clustering ivy, where Anacreon lies ; Tliere may soft buds from purple meadows rise : Gush, milky springs, the poet's turf to lave. And, fragrant wine, flow joyous from his grave ! Thus charm'd, his bones shall press their narrow bed. If aught of i^leasure ever reach the dead. In these delights he sooth'd his age above. His life devoting to the lyre and love. THE SAME, PARAPHRASED. moore. Around the tomb, O Bard divine ! Where soft thy hallow' d brow reposes. Long may the deathless ivy twine. And Summer pour his waste of roses ! And many a fount shall there distil. And many a rill refresh the flowers ; But wine shall gush in every rill. And every fount yield milky showers. Thus — shade of him whom nature taught To tune his lyre and soul to pleasure — Who gave to love his warmest thought. Who gave to love his fondest measure — ANTIPATER OF SIDON. 209 Thus — after death, if spirits feel. Thou may'st, from odours round thee streaming, A pulse of past enjoyment steal, And live again in bUssful dreaming. XIII. (75.) ON THE SAME. moore. At length thy golden hours have wing'd their flight, And drowsy death thine eyelid steepeth ; Thy harp, that whisper'd through each lingering night. Now mutely in oblivion sleepeth. She, too, for whom that heart profusely shed The purest nectar of its numbers. She — the young spring of thy desires — has fled. And with her blest Anacreon slumbers. Farewell ! thou hadst a pulse for every dart That Love could scatter from his quiver ; And every woman found in thee a heart. Which thou, with all thy soul, didst give her ! XIV. (84.) EPITAPH ON A MOTHER AND DAUGHTER. * p. 292. b. Here sleeps a daughter by a mother's side ; Nor slow disease nor war our fates allied : When hostUe banners over Corinth wav'd. Preferring death we left a land enslav'd ; Pierc'd by a mother's steel, in youth I bled. She nobly join'd me in my gory bed : — In vain ye forge your fetters for the brave, Who fly for sacred freedom to the grave, 2!0 MELEAGER. XV. (Paralip. 86. Jacobs, xiii. p. 670.) ON A POPLAR. * p. 357. This plant is sacred. Passenger, beware ! From every wound a mortal pang I bear. My tender limbs support a virgin rind, Not the rude bark that shields the forest kind ; And ev'n in these dark glens and pathless glades Their parent sun protects his poplar maids. M. MELEAGER.t Following the chronological order we have adopted, we now arrive at the period of the first known collector of an Anthology ; himself also a poet ; and, as a mere composer of Epigrams, very far superior to any of those inserted in his Garland, — so far, at least, as we are enabled to judge of them from those specimens which have escaped the ra- vages of time, and the yet more sweeping and indiscri- minate havoc of ignorance and bigotry ; — an author whose style, in a recent edition of his works, is characterized as " purely Grecian, well adapted to the nature of his sub- jects, bold in the composition of words, and capable of ex- citing the most tender, as well as the most vehement, aifec- f Jacobs, i. p. 1. Brunck, i. p. 1. MELEAGER. 211 tions ; so distinguished, at the same time, for acuteness of argument and plaj-fulness of amorous fancy, that the poet may be said to have paid himself no unmerited compliment, when he boasts of having united Love with the Muses, and called in aid the Graces, to temper the severity of philo- sophy." His Epigrams, as first brought together by the industry of Brunck, reprinted by Jacobs, and placed by them at the head of all the poets comprised in their respective col- lections, are one hundred and twenty-nine in number ; to which the industry of the latter editor has added two from the Vatican MS., one of wliich seems to connect so aptly with another (the seventy-fifth in the printed series), as to be thought by Jacobs to have originally formed a part of it and only separated by accident, — a notion which has been adopted in one of the ensuing translations. It only remains to be noticed, that we are indebted to the industry and acuteness of Mr. Fynes Clinton (Fast. Hell. vol. il. p. 542,) for enabling us to correct a palpable mistake of former editors, in having confounded the collector of the Antholog)' (who sun'ived, as has been seen, his friend Antipater, and was certainly yet living in the short reign of the last Seleucus, B.C. 95 — 94,) vdth another Meleager, who was a native of Gadara, the companion of the Cynic Menippus, prior in date to B. C. 200 ; and to whom, there- fore, and not to the collector, those Epigrams relate (Nos. 126 and 127,) which had been hitherto considered as com- posed by the later Meleager for epitaphs on himself. It results from this discovery, that we are in fact ignorant both of the country and parentage of Meleager the collector; but from his being of the same name, it seems not unrea- 212 MELEAGER. sonable to suppose that he was the descendant — perhaps the grandson — of tlie Gadarene. (See before, Bland's Pre- face, and note on the passage.) I. (9.) THE COMPARISON. Take away from young Cupid his wings and his bow, And give him sweet Antipho's bonnet and feather : jSo Uke is your boy to the god, love, I vow You'd not know your child if you saw them together. II. (17.) THE SAME SUBJECT. Lesbia ! thy child is so divinely fair. That if beside him little Cupid stood Without his quiver, bow, or wings, I swear I should not know the mortal from the God. III. (19.) THE SAILOR'S RETURN. m. Help, help, my friends ! — ^just landed from the main — New to its toils, and glad to feel again The firm rebounding soil beneath my feet. Love marks his prey, and with enforcement sweet. Waving his torch before my dazzled eyes. Drags me to where my queen of beauty lies. Now on her steps I tread — and if in air My fancy roves, I view her picture there, MELEAGER. 213 Stretch my fond arms to fold her, and delight With unsubstantial joys my ravish'd sprite. Ah ! vainly 'scap'd the fearful ocean's roar, To prove a fiercer hurricane on shore ! IV. (23.) THE GIFTS OF THE GRACES, k. The Graces smiUng saw her opening charms. And clasp'd Aristo in their lovely arms. Hence her resistless beauty ; matchless sense ; The music of her voice ; the eloquence. That, ev'n in silence, flashes from her face ; All strikes the ravish'd heart — for all is grace: List to my vows, sweet maid ! or from my view Far, far away, remove! — in vain I sue ; For, as no space can check the bolts of Jove, No distance shields me from the shafts of Love. V. (28.) THE TYRANT LOVE. Aye — tread on my neck, tyrant Cupid ! I swear. Though so little, your weight is no trifle to bear : But I laugh at your darts tipp'd with flaming desire. Since my heart, burnt to ashes, is proof against fire. VI. (32.) PRAYER TO CUPID. Spare, Cupid ! spare me ! hear the suppliant Muse ! Avert thy bow — withdraw thy flaming dart ! Bid HeUodora listen, nor refuse To soothe the piercing anguish of my heart ! 214 MELEAGER. But, if thou slay me, by that bow I swear — That bow, thou seem'st to bend on me alone — My dying accents shall my wrongs declare, And leave this apt memorial for my stone : — " Stranger, beware !" — thus from that drear abode Tlie Muse shall speak — "Fly Cupid's murderous bow ! Nor vainly look for mercy from the God Whose ruthless hand hath laid his poet low !" VII. (33.) THE LIGHT OF LOVE. k. Gazing on thee, sweet maid ! all things I see — For thou art all the universe to me ; And, when thou 'rt absent, to my vacant sight. Though all things else be present, all is night. Vin. (42.) CUPID WOUNDED. k. Why weep'st thou, Cupid — thou who steal'st men's hearts. And with their hearts their reason ? — Tell me why Thou 'st flung away thy cruel bow and darts. And doff'd thy radiant wings. Has Lesbia's eye. Which beams on all, resistless, pierc'd thy breast ? — 'T is so — thy cause of sorrow stands confest ; And thou art doom'd to suffer in thy turn. And feel what torture 't is with love to burn. MELEAGER. 215 IX. (47.) PAN'S LAMENTATION FOR DAPHNIS. m. Farewell, ye straying herds, ye crystal fountains. Ye solitary woods, and breezy mountains ! Goat-footed Pan will now no longer dwell In the rude fastness of his sylvan cell. What joy has he amidst the forests hoar, And mountain summits ? — Daphnis is no more. — No more ! no more ! — They all are lost to me ! The busy town must now my refuge be. The chase let others follow ! — I resign Whate'er of hope or rapture once was mine, THE SAME. K. Farewell, ye hills ! ye sylvan scenes, farewell. Which once my shaggy feet rejoic'd to tread ! No more with goats on mountain tops I'll dwell. Half- goat myself — no more the mazes thread Of forest thicket, or of bosky dell : Daphnis — lov'd partner of my sports — is dead ; And with him all the joy he knew so well To give my sylvan reign, for ever fled. Scenes once belov'd ! I quit ye : to the chase Let others hie — the town shall be Pan's dwelling-place. X. (50.) CUPID'S PEDIGREE. m. No wonder Love, the ravisher of hearts. For slaughter raging, hurls fire-breathing darts ; 216 MELEAGER. With bitter scorn envenoms every wound. And laughs at every death he scatters round : For Mars the homicide his mother vows A lawless flame, while Vulcan is her spouse. — Common to fire and sword — the daughter she Of the wild, boisterous, tempest- scourged sea : But who, or whence, his sire, can no man trace. No wonder then, since such is Cupid's race, His arrows Mars, hot Vulcan's forge supplied His fire ; — his fury, the remorseless tide. THE SAME. Ask' ST thou why Love's eyes, ev'n in laughter, lower ? Or whence his savage thirst for flames and sword ? Was not fierce Mars his mother's paramour. And Vulcan, God of Fire, her wedded lord } The boy 's his mother's son : his pedigree Explains too well his hate of human kind. Who gave that mother birth ? — the foaming sea, Whose surge rebellows to the lashing wind. Who was his sire ? — if e'er he had a sire Is doubtful ; — but for this the Muse wiU 'gage : Mars gave him blood-stain'd arrows, Vulcan fire. And Thetis fill'd him with her billowy rage. XI. THE POWER OF LOVE. m. Mighty is Love — most mighty — once again I cry, most mighty ! wTitliing with my pain, MELEAGER. 21/ And deeply groaning, — who, for mischief born. Mocks at our woes, and laughs our wrongs to scorn. — The cold blue wave from which thy mother came. Proud boy ! should quench, not feed, that cruel flame. XII. (52.) THE CAPTIVE. m. Love ! by the Author of your race. Of all your sweetest joys the giver, I vow to bum before your face Your arrows, bow, and Scythian quiver ! Yes — though you point your saucy chin. And screw your nostrils like a satyr. And show your teeth, and pout, and grin, I 11 burn them, boy, for all your clatter. I '11 clip your wings, boy, though they be Heralds of joy ; your legs I '11 bind With brazen bolts : you sha' n't get free — Alas ! I have but caught the wind ! Oh ! what had I with Love to do, — A wolf among the sheep-folds roaming ! There— take your wings — put on your shoe. And teU your playmates you are coming. XIII. (53.) THE DIN OF LOVE. m. For ever in mine ear resound Love's wanton pinions, fluttering round ; While amorous wishes from mine eye Melt in sweet tear-drops silently. L 218 MELEAGER. It is not night — the level ray- Not yet proclaims the close of clay ; Yet is one well-known form imprest. As by enchantment, on my breast. Ye winged boys, who know the art Too well to reach th' unguarded heart. Have ye no strength, ye flutterers, say. To spread your plumes, and fly away ? THE SAME. MOORE. 'T IS Love that murmurs in my breast. And makes me shed the secret tear ; Nor day nor night my heart has rest, For night and day his voice I hear. A wound within my heart I find. And, oh ! 't is plain where Love has been ; For still he leaves a wound behind, Such as within my heart is seen. O bird of Love ! with song so drear. Make not my soul the nest of pain ! Oh ! let the wing which brought thee here. In pity waft thee hence again ! XIV. (55.) THE TORTURES OF LOVE. m. Unquiet soul, for ever doom'd to weep ! What need the wound which Time had 'gan assuage Burst forth afresh from where it lay asleep, And with new fury in my bosom rage ? MELEAGER. 219 Daringlj' thoughtless ! cease, oh cease to move The fire that slumbering in its ashes lay, Warm, but innocuous — cease ! that fire is Love. Ah ! too forgetful of thine evil day ! Let him but wake, he '11 claim thee for his right, - And blows and tortures shall reward thy fhght. XV. (56.) THE DEBATE. m. The die is cast! — Boy, light the torch — I go — Away, away. Untimely fears ! — Thou drunken fool, what art thou think- ing ? — stay ! — I go to mix wdth Comus' band. — With Comus' band ? — Beware ! — Intruding Reason, hence! your counsels Love would gladly spare. Boy, light the torch — be quick ! Oh, where has godlike Reason fled ? And Wisdom, where? — They prosti'ate lie among the mighty dead. But this I know — The same decree binds ev'n the gods above ; The strength of Jove himself has bent before all- conquer- ing Love. XVL (57.) TO BACCHUS. m. Bacchus ! I yield me to thy sway ; Master of revels, lead the way ! Conqueror of India's burning plain, My heart obeys thy chariot rein. L 2 220 MELEAGER. In flames conceiv'd, thou sure wilt prove Indulgent to the fire of Love ; Nor count me rebel, if I own Allegiance to a double throne. Alas ! alas ! that power so high Should stoop to treacherous perfidy ! The mysteries of thy hallow'd shrine I ne'er profan'd — Why publish mine ? XVII. (61.) THE LOVER'S MESSAGE. m. Haste thee, Dorcas ! haste, and bear This message to thy lady fair ; And say besides — nay, pray begone — Tell, tell her all — run, Dorcas, run ! Whither so fast ? a moment stay ; Don't run with half your tale away ; I 've more to tell — Ah me ! I rave — I know not what I 'd do, or have. Go ! teU her all — whate'er you know, Whate'er you think — go, Dorcas, go ! But why a message send before. When we 're together at the door ? XVIII. (65.) VARIETY. m. Ringlets, that with clustering shade The snow-white brows of Demo braid ! MELEAGKR. 221 Sandals, that with strict embrace Heliodora's ancles grace ! Portal of Timarion's bower. Besprent with many a fragrant shower ! Lovely smiles, that lurking lie In Anticlea's sun-bright eye ! Roses, fresh in earliest bloom. That Dorothea's breast perfume ! — No more Love's golden quivers hold Tlieir plum'd artillery, as of old ; But every sharp and winged dart Hath found a quiver in my heart- XIX. (71.) THE VOW. CM. In holy night we made the vow ; And the same lamp that long before Had seen our early passion grow Was witness to the faith we swore- Did I not swear to love her ever ? And have I ever dar'd to rove ? Did she not vow a rival never Should shake her faith, or steal her love ? Yet now she says those words were air. Those vows were written in the water ; And, by the lamp that heard her swear. Hath yielded to the first that sought her. 222 MELEAGER. XX. (73.) LOVE, THE DICE-PLAYER. As Infant Love one morning lay Upon his mother's breast at play. He found my soul, that stood hard by, And, laugliing, stak'd it on the die. XXI. (74.) TO THE MORNING STAR. m. Farewell, bright Phosphor, herald of the mom ! Yet soon, in Hesper's name again be born — By stealth restoring, with thy later ray. The charms thine early radiance drove away ! THE SAME. c. M. Thou latest of the host of Heav'n, Pale morning star ! that driv'st away My Phanion thus, at break of day ; Thou too art first to shine at ev'n : — O hither, then, at twilight gray Guide her with thy furtive ray ! XXII. (75.) THE KISS. m. Timarion's kiss like bird-lime clings About the happy lips it blesses ; Her eye its sun-like radiance flings Beneath her dark o'ershadowing tresses. ME LE ACER. 223 One look, fond lover, and you 're burn'd ; One touch, and all your strength is nought ; And Love himself this lesson learn'd, Late in her nets a captive caught. XXIII. (SO.) THE LOVER'S ERRAND. * p. 1. Sea-wandering barks, that o'er the ^gean sail With pennants streaming to the northern gale, If in your course the Coan strand ye reach. And see my Phanion musing on the beach, With eye intent upon the placid sea. And constant heart that only beats for me, — Tell my sweet mistress, that for her I haste. To greet her, landing from the w^atery waste. Go, heralds of my soul ! to Phanion's ear On all your shrouds the tender accents bear ! So Jove shall calm with smiles the wave below. And bid for you his softest breezes blow. THE SAME. SHEPHERD. Ye gallant ships, that jilough the briny wave Where beauteous Hella found a watery grave ! As near the Coiin strand the northern gales With steady impulse fiU your swelling sails. Should you behold, upon some dizzy steep. My Phanion gazing on the azure deep, — TeU the dear maid that, mindful of her charms. Her lover hastens to her longing arms. 224 MELEAGER. So, while you scud along the dashing spray. May prosperous breezes speed you on your way ! XXIV. (87.) TO A GIRL PLAYING THE FLUTE, m. By Pan, Arcadia's God, I swear. Sweet are the notes thy fingers move ; Most sweet, Zenophila, the air Thou hymn'st — it speaks of love. How shall I fly ! On every side The wanton Cupids round me throng, Nor give me space to breathe, while tied A listener to thy song. Whether her beauty wakes desire. Her tuneful voice, her winning art — —What shaU I say ? All— all. The fire Is kindled in my heart. XXV. (88.) TO HIS MISTRESS SLEEPING. m. Thotj sleep'st, soft silken flower ! Would I were Sleep, For ever on those lids my watch to keep ! So should I have thee all mine own — nor he Who seals Jove's wakeful eyes my rival be. XXVI. (89.) THE GIFTS OF THE GRACES, m. The Sister- Graces for my fair A triple garland wove. When with each other they to make A perfect mistress strove. ME LE ACER. 225 A tint, to mock the rose's bloom ; A form, like young Desire ; A voice, whose melody out-breathes The sweetness of the lyre. Thrice-happy fair ! whom Venus arm'd With Joy's extatic power, Persuasion with soft Eloquence, And Love with Beauty's flower ! XXVII. (91.) LOVE PROCLAIMED. m. Love I proclaim — the vagrant child. Who, even now, at da^vn of day. Stole from liis bed, and flew away. He 's wont to weep, as though he smil'd ; For ever prattling, swift and daring ; Laughs with wide mouth and wrinkled nose ; Vv^ing'd on the back, and always bearing A quiver rattling as he goes : Unknown the author of his birth — For Air, 'tis certain, ne'er begot The saucy boy : and as for Earth And Sea, both swear they own him not : To all, and everywhere, a foe. But you must look, and keep good watch. Lest he should still around him throw Fresh nets, unwary souls to catch. Stay ! — while I yet am speaking, lo ! There, there he sits, like one forbidden — And did you hope to 'scape me so, — In Lesbia's eyes, you truant, hidden ? L 5 226 MELBAGKR. THE SAME. K. Oyez ! Take notice. Love the runaway Fled from his bed-chamber at break of day. The boy is an adept at wheedhng, crying ; Talks much, is swift of foot, and giv'n to lying ; Audacious, cunning, and with malice fraught. He laughs at mischief liis own wiles have WTOught : With wings for flight equipp'd, and for attack With darts, he bears a quiver at his back. Who is his father I could ne'er discover — Earth, Sea, and Air, alike disown the rover. He 's ever^'body's foe — Ah maids, beware ! Youths, too, take heed ! for you he spreads his snare. But look ! — can I be wrong ? — No ; there I spy The truant archer, hid in Lesbia's eye. XXVIII. (92.) THE COMPARISON. * p. 12. m. Now are the vernal hours — The white-rob'd violet blooms. And hyacinth, glad with showers. The breathing air perfumes ; And, scatter'd o'er the mountain's side. The fragrant lily gleams in virgin pride. Now are the vernal hours — Zenoi:)hila the fair, The lovehest flower of flowers. The sweet beyond compare. Doth on her opening lips disclose Divine Persuasion's never-fading rose. MELEAGER, 227 Meadows ! why do ye wreathe In smiles your sunny tresses ? Ye no such odours breathe, Tliough Spring your wardrobe dresses ; Ye no such glorious charms display. As she, the maiden that inspires my lay. THE SAME. SHEPHEKD. The snowdrop peeps from every glade, The gay narcissus proudly glows, The lily decks the mountain shade, Where blooms my fair — a blushing rose. Ye meads ! why vainly thus display Tlie buds that grace your vernal hour ? For see ye not my Zoe stray Amidst your sweets, a sweeter flower ? XXIX. (94.) A KISS WITHIN THE CUP. * p. 23. m. Blest is the goblet — oh how blest ! Which Heliodora's lips have prest. Oh ! might those lips but meet with mine, My soul should melt away in thine. XXX. (95.) THE AUCTION. m. A PRIZE to sell ! — a prize ! a prize ! You may take it as it lies 228 MELEAGER. In its mother's arms asleep. 'T is too fierce for me to keep. You may mark it by its grin — Wrinkled nose, and saucy chin — By the wings its shoulders shade — By its nails, for tickling made — By its laughing through its tears— And, for aught that else appears. Rude in manners, chattering ever, Keen-sightedj restless, yielding never. Or through love or piety — In short, an infant prodigy ! Let him be sold, then— Buy ! who '11 buy ? If any merchant should be nigh. Just come on shore, who wants a slave Of all- work, here a prize he '11 have. — But see, he weeps ! he trembhng sues — Poor boy ! be bold ; I cannot choose But relent — So let it be ! Stay, and live with Rhodope. THE SAME. SHEPHERD. Sell him ! whilst on his mother's breast He gently sinks in placid rest i Sell him ! — Why should I keep a child So bold, so graceless, and so wild ? How broad his nose ! how keen his eyes ! And now he laughs, and now he cries : With fluttering wings and active nails He every mortal wight assails : MELEAGER. 229 Tlie prattling rogue 's so bent on riot. His mother cannot keep him quiet. Sell him ! ^A•ho '11 buy the infant slave. And bear him 'cross the wintry wave ? — But see ! he prays "^-ith flowing tears : — I wUl not sell thee — calm thy fears ! With me, dear boy ! thou still shalt stay. And with my lovely mistress play. XXXI. (97.) LOVE, THE TENNIS-PLAYER, elton. Love acts the tennis-player's part. And throws to thee my panting heart : Heliodora ! ere it fall. Let Desire catch swift the ball ; Let her in the ball-court move. Fellow in the game with Love : If thou throw me back again, I shall of fovil play complain. XXXII. (98.) THE TOAST. m. Fill high the goblet ! fill it up ! With Lesbia's name divine, Thrice utter'd, crown the sparkling cup, And sweeten all the wine ! Tie round my brows the rosy wreath That yesterday ye wove. With flowers that yet of odours breathe. In memory of ray Love ! 230 MELEAGER. See how yon Rose in tears is drest. Her lovely form to see. No longer folded on my breast. As it was wont to be. XXXII. (105.) THE GARLAND. m. I 'll WTeathe white violets — with the myrtle shade Bind soft narcissus — and amidst them braid The laughing lily ; with whose virgin hue Shall blend bright crocus, and the hyacinth blue. There many a rose shall, interwoven, shed Its blushing grace on Heliodora's head. And add fresh fragrance, amorously entwining Her cluster'd locks, with spicy ointments shining. XXXIII. (108.) TO THE BEE. m. Wandering Bee, who lov'st to dwell In the vernal rose-bud's cell. Wherefore leave thy place of rest. To light on Heliodora's breast ? Is it thus you mean to show. When flies the shaft fi-om Cupid's bow, What a sweet and bitter smart It leaves witliin the woimded heart ? Yes, thou friend to lovers, yes — I thy meaning well can guess — 'T is a truth too soon we learn, — Go ! with thy lesson home return ! MELEAGER. 231 XXXIII. (109.) EPITAPH ON HELIODORA. * p. 283. b. Tears o'er my Heliodora's grave I shed. Affection's fondest tribute to the dead. Oh flow, my bitter sorrows, o'er her shrine, Pledge of the love that bound her soul to mine ! Break, break my heart, o'ercharg'd with bursting woe. An empty offering to the shades below ! Ah, plant regretted ! Death's remorseless power With dust unfruitful chok'd thy full-blown flower. Take, Earth, the gentle inmate to thy breast. And, soft entomb'd, bid Heliodora rest ! THE SAME. M. Tears, Heliodora! on thy tomb I shed. Love's last libation to the shades below ; Tears, bitter tears, by fond remembrance fed. Are all that Fate now leaves me to bestow. Vain sorrows ! vain regrets ! — yet, loveliest ! thee. Thee still they follow in the silent urn. Retracing hours of social converse free. And soft endearments never to return. Now thou art torn, sweet flower that smil'd so fair ! Tom — and thy honour'd bloom with dust defil'd : Yet, holy Earth, accept my suppliant prayer. And in a mother's arms enfold thy child ! 232 MELEAGER. XXXIV. (110.) SPRING. An Idyl. * p. 351. b. Hush'd is the howl of wintry breezes wild ; The purple hour of youthful Spring has smil'd : A liveher verdure clothes the teeming earth ; Buds press to life, rejoicing in their birth ; The laughing naeadows drink the dews of night. And, fresh with opening roses, glad the sight : In song the joyous swains responsive \de ; Wild music floats, and mountain melody. Adventurous seamen spread th' embosom'd sail, O'er waves light-hea'sdng to the western gale ; While \'iUage youths their brows with ivy twine. And hail with song the promise of the vine. In curious cells the bees digest their spoil, When vernal sunshine animates their toil ; And little birds with warblings sweet and clear Salute thee, Maio ! loveliest of the year : Tliee, on their deeps, the tuneful Halcyons hail. In streams the swan, in woods the nightingale. If Earth rejoices, with new verdure gay. And shepherds pipe, and flocks exulting play. And sailors roam, and Bacchus leads his throng. And bees to toil, and birds awalie to song, — Shall the glad bard be mute in tuneful spring. And, warm -with love and joy, forget to sing ? THE SAME. SHEPHERD. Whex wintry winds no longer sweep The surface of the troubled deep, See, smihng Sjiring, in vestment sheen, Arrays the earth in grateful green. MELEAGER. 233 The budding plants their leaves renew ; The meadows drink the morning dew ; The flowers their thousand hues disclose ; Blooms on the spray the blushing rose ; Whilst every hill and valley gay Re-echoes to the rustic lay, And, swelUng to the tepid gale. Bounds o'er the waves the whit'ning sail. The sturdy hinds, A\'ith i\^^ crown' d. To Bacchus dance in tipsy round ; Tlie bees flit fast on active wing. As home the nectar'd juice they bring ; The birds confess the power of love, And warble in the leafy grove ; The halcyon floats on Ocean's breast ; The twittering swallow builds her nest ; The white-plum' d swan in graceful pride Stems the broad river's rapid tide ; Whilst nightly breezes still prolong Tlie nightingale's mellifluous song. If then the earth— the groves rejoice To hear the swain's untutor'd voice. The seaman's whistle, and the glee Of rustic rout and revelry. Who shall forbid the bard to sing The praises of the flowery Spring ? XXXV. (111.) TO THE CICADA. m. Noisy insect ! drunken still With dew-drops like the stars in number, — 234 MELEAGER. Voice of the desert, loud and shrill, That wakest Echo from her slumber. And, sitting on the bloomy spray, Carol' st at ease thy merry lay ; Dusky bard ! whose jagged feet Still on your hollow sides rebounding With frequent pause, and measur'd beat. Like minstrel notes are ever sounding ; Lov'd of the Muses, come ! essay The wood-nymphs with some newer lay ! — Such as Pan might please to hear. And, answering, tune his vocal reed ; And Love himself a whUe forbear His cruel sport to see me bleed ; Wliilst I in noontide sleep am laid Secure beneath the plane-tree's shade. XXXVI. (113.) " MIX WATER WITH YOUR WINE." m. When infant Bacchus from encircling flame Leap'd into life, the Nymphs in pity came. Caught him amidst the ashes as he fell, And bath'd with water from their sacred well. Their union hence, — and whoso would decline To mix his bowl, may swallow fire for wine. THE SAME, PARAPHRASED. prior. Great Bacchus, bom in Thunder and in Fire, By native heat asserts his dreadful sire : MELEAGER. 235 Nourish'd near shady rills and cooling streams, He to the Nymphs avows his amorous flames : — To all the brethren at the Bell and Vine, The moral says, "Mix water with your wine." M. XXXVII. (116.) THE VICTIM. The suppHant Bull, to Jove's high altar led. Bellows a prayer for his devoted head. Spare him, Saturnius ! — His the form you wore When fair Europa through the waves you bore. XXXVIII. (119.) THE DAUGHTERS OF LYCAMBES. m. Bt Pluto's hand we swear — an awful sign — And the dark bed of gloomy Proserpine, Pure went we to our graves, whate'er of shame And vile reproach against our virgin fame That bitter bard pour'd forth, in strains refin'd Cloaking the foulness of his slanderous mind. Muses, in our despite why favour thus The false Iambics of Archilochus ? XXXIX. (121.) EPITAPH ON ^SIGENES. * p. 294. Hail, universal Mother ! lightly rest On that dead form, Which, when with hfe invested, ne'er oppress'd Its fellow- worm. M. 236 MELEAGER. XL. (124.) EPITAPH ON CHARIXENUS. m. Thee, poor Charixenus ! in youth's first bloom, Thy mother's hands — an offering to the tomb — Deck'd with the martial stole. The very stone Made to thy moaning friends responsive moan. As with the houseless corpse they sorrowing went — No hymeneal strain, but loud lament. " Ah me ! that gentle bosom's bounteous store. How ill repaid ! — how vain the pangs she bore !" O Fate unfruitful ! Maid of ruthless mind ! That giv'st a mother's yearnings to the wind I Here, friends can only wish, and parents weep. And pitying strangers sanctify thy sleep. XLI. (125.) EPITAPH ON A YOUNG BRIDE. * p. 283. m. Cle^ra, when she loos'd her virgin zone. Found in the nuptial bed an early grave : Death claim'd the bridegroom's right ; to Death alone The treasure guarded for her spouse she gave. To sweetest sounds the happy evening fled, The flute's soft strain and hymeneal choir ; At mom sad bowlings echo round the bed. And the glad hymns on quivering lips expire. The very torches that at fall of night Shed their bright radiance o'er the bridal room, Those very torches with the morning's light Conduct the victim to her silent tomb. MELEAGER. 23/ XLII. (127.) EPITAPH ON MELEAGER OF GADARA. m. Tyre was my Island-nurse — an Attic race I boast, though Gadara my native j^lace, — Herself an Athens. Eucrates I claim For sire, and Meleager is my name. From childhood, in the Muse was all my pride : I sang ; and with Menippus, side by side, Urg'd my poetic chariot to the goal. And why not Syrian ? — to the free-born soul Our country is. The World ; and all on earth One universal chaos brought to birth. Now old, and heedful of th' approaching doom. These lines, in memory of my parted bloom, I on my picture trace, as on my tomb. [ 238 ] EPIGRAMS OMITTED. [The two following were omitted to be inserted in the proper places.] HEGESIPPUS.f IV. (6.) ON A SHIPWRECKED PERSON, h. Perish the hour — that dark and starless hour — Perish the roaring main's tempestuous power — That whelm'd the ship where lov'd Abdera's son Pray'd to unheeding Heaven, and was undone ! Yes — all were wreck'd ; and, by the stormy wave To rough Seriphos borne, he found a grave, — Found, from kind stranger hands, funereal fires. Yet reach'd, inum'd, the countr\' of his sires. ANTIPATER OF SIDON.:|: XVI. (94.) THE CURE FOR MISERY. h. One fleecy ewe, one heifer, were the store That drove dire Want from Aristides' door. He lost them both : his teeming heifer died ; His single ewe the ravening wolf descried. And bore away : thus all he had was gone. Retiring to his silent hut alone. The belt that bound his empty scrip he takes. Fastens the noose, and wretched life forsakes. t See before, p. 147. + See before, p. 201. [ 239 ] APPENDIX. EPIGRAMS BY UNCERTAIN AUTHORS.f [The Epigrams here selected from among the 'A^eo-Trdra printed at the end of Brunck's and Jacobs's Collections, are principally such as, from internal evidence, would seem to belong to the earlier and better ages of Grecian poetry, or, from their resemblance in subject to some of the preceding, appear to solicit insertion in the present portion of our work.] I. (58.) THE LOVER'S WISH. * p. 14. m. Oh, that I were some gentle air, Tliat, when the heats of summer glow. And lay thy panting bosom bare, I might upon that bosom blow ! Oh, that I were yon blushing flower. Which even now thy hands have press'd, To live, though but for one short hour, Upon the Elysium of thy breast ! t Jacobs, iv. p. 118. Hnuick, iii. p. I.jI. 240 EPIGRAMS BY II. (62.) LOVE NOT EXTINGUISHED BY AGE. * p. 4. m. Whether thy locks with jetty radiance shine, Or golden ringlets o'er thy shoulder stray, Still in those locks the Loves and Graces twine. And stiU shall twine there, though those locks be gray. III. (80.) ON LIFE AND DEATH. c. m. Whence was I born, and how ? How was I born, and why ? Alas ! I nothing know. But, born, that I must die. From nothing I was born, To nought must I return. The end and the beginning Of life is nothingness ; Of losing or of winning. Of pleasure or distress. Then give me wine at least, Tliere 's nought for 't but to feast. IV. (81.) EXHORTATION TO PLEASURE, r. b. Drink, and rejoice ! who knows, tomorrow. Whether 't will bring us joy or sorrow } Now, while you may, life's blessings share With the jovial and the fair : Shortly may thy flickering breath Be tainted by the blast of death. UNCERTAIN AUTHORS. 241 Such is life — a moment's space. And it leaves an empty place : Seize it, ere the silent tomb, Engulphing thee, gives others room. V. (177.) THE GARDENER'S OFFERING. *p.423. b. To Pan, the guardian of my narrow soil, Who gave my fruits to grow, and bless'd my toil. Pure water and a votive fig I bear, A scant oblation from the teeming year. The fruit ambrosial in thy garden blush'd. And from thy rock the living water rush'd ; Receive the tribute from my niggard urn. Nor with thy bounty weigh my poor return. VI. (247.) ON THE VENUS OF PRAXITELES. * p. 372. m. My naked charms ! The Prince of Troy — The Dardan swain — the hunter boy — To those, and only those, I 've shown them — How should Praxiteles have Icnown them ? VII. (249.) ON THE STATUE OF VENUS ARMED. * p. 373. m. Pallas met Beauty's Queen array'd in arms, — And ask'd — " Dost thou too venture to the field ?" Smiling she answer' d — " If my naked charms Such victories gain, what will my spear and shield .''" M 242 EPIGRAMS BY VIII. (214.) ON A STATUE OF NIOBE. *p. 371. b. This female, so the poets sing, Was chang'd to stone by Dian's curse. The sculptor did a better thing — He did exactly the reverse. IX. (325.) INSCRIPTION ON A BATH. * p. 359. b. Or from this fount, a joj^ous birth. The Queen of Beauty rose to earth ; Or heavenly Venus, bathing, gave Her own quintessence to the wave. X. (381.) THE OLIVE TO THE VINE. * p. 356. m. I AM Minerva's sacred plant. Press me no more, intruding vine ! UnvvTeathe your wanton arms ! Avaunt ! A modest maiden loves not wine. XL (241.) ON A SHE-GOAT SUCKLING A WOLF. * p. 367. b. A WOLF, reluctant, with my milk I feed, Obedient to a cruel master's will ; By him I nourish'd soon condemn'd to bleed, For stubborn Nature Avill be Nature still. XII. (409.) " BIS DAT QUI CITO." h. Swift favours charm ; but when too long they stay. They lose the name of kindness by delay. UNCERTAIN AUTHORS. 243 XIII. (435.) ON A POOR MAN BECOMING RICH IN HIS OLD AGE. g. n. I WAS poor — but I was twenty — Now at threescore I have plenty. What a miserable lot ! Now that I have hoarded treasure, I no more can taste of pleasure : When I could, I had it not. . XIV. (443.) ON DEATH. * p. 108. b. The Bath, obsequious Beauty's smile. Wine, Fragrance, Music's heavenly breath, Can but our hastening hours beguile. And slope the path that leads to death. XV. (444.) THE SAME SUBJECT. * p. 108. a. Straight is our passage to the grave. Whether from Meroe's burning wave. Or Attic groves we roam. Grieve not in distant lands to die ! Our vessels seek from every sky Death's universal home. XVI. (458.) DIOGENES TO CRCESUS. n. When now the Cynic in dark Pluto's reign His earthly task of snarling wisdom clos'd ; Laugliing he heard the Lydian king complain. And spread his cloak, and near the prince repos'd. M 2 244 EPIGRAMS BY " Drainer," he cried, " of streams that flow'd with gold. My higher dignity in hell behold ! For all I had on earth this nether sphere Receives with me, — but thou hast nothing here." XVII. (476.) ON A MURDERED CORPSE, h. Though here you laid my corpse, when none were nigh. One saw thee, murderer ! — one aU-seeing eye. XVIII. (463.) DIVINATION. h.b. Three damsels once essay'd, in mirthful vein. Who first should visit Pluto's gloomy reign ; And thrice with anxious hearts they threw the die. That should decide their future destiny. The lot on one was cast, but no alarm Excited — she but mock'd the idle charm ; Yet unawares her destiny fulfill'd, Slipp'd from the roof, and by the fall was kill'd. True are the Fates when hovering evils brood : Forbear to trust them when they promise good ! XIX. (519.) ON THE NINE LYRIC POETS. * p. 362. m. O SACRED voice of the Pierian choir. Immortal Pindar ! O enchanting air Of sweet Bacchylides ! O rapturous lyre. Majestic graces, of the Lesbian fair ! UNCERTAIN AUTHORS. 245 Muse of Anacreon, the gay, the young ! Stesichorus, thy full Homeric stream ! Soft elegies by Csea's poet sung ! Persuasive Ibycus, thy glowing theme ! Sword of Alcaeus, that, with tyrants' gore Gloriously painted, lift'st thy point so high ! Ye tuneful nightingales that still deplore Your Alcman, prince of amorous poesy ! — Oh yet impart some breath of heavenly fire To him who venerates the Grecian lyre ! XX. (521.) ON SAPPHO. * p. 363. m. Come, Lesbian maids ! to Juno's royal dome ! With steps that hardly press the pavement, come ! Let your own Sappho lead the lovely choir. And to the altar bear her golden lyre. Then first, in graceful order slow advance, Weaving light mazes of the joyous dance : Herself the while her heaven-taught strains shall pour ; Such strains as sang Calliope of yore. XXL (560.) ON MENANDER. shepherd. The bees, Menander ! who with active wing Sport 'midst the flowers that deck the Muse's spring, Around thy lips in thick'ning clusters hung, And tipp'd with honey-drops thy infant tongue. The Graces, too, on thee their gifts bestow, And teach thy strains with elegance to flow. 246 EPIGRAMS BY Celestial bard ! — immortal as thy lays, Thy native Athens shares thy meed of praise. XXII. (561.) ON THE SAME. * p. 365. Menandkr, sweet Tlialia's pride ! Well art thou placed by Cujiid's side. Priest to the god of soft delights. Thou spreadst on earth his joyous rites ; And, sure, the boy himself we see To smile, and please, and breathe in thee ; For, musing on yon imag'd stone. To see thee, and to love, are one. XXIII. (562.) ON THE SAME. * p. 365. Behold Menander, syren of the stage, Who charm'd, with Love allied, a happier age ! Light wanton wreaths, that never shall be dead. Are curled luxuriant round the poet's head. Who dress'd the same in colours bright and gay. And breath'd enchantment o'er the hving lay. XXIV. (633.) ON ONE WHO SLEW HIS MOTHER. h. O BURY not the dead, but let him lie A prey for dogs beneath th' unpitying sky ! Our common mother Earth would grieve to hide The hateful body of the matricide. UNCERTAIN AUTHORS. 247 XXV. (637.) THE CERTAINTY OF DEATH, r. b. Consigned to dust, which whilom gave me birth, I care not what convulsions shake the earth. XXVI. (638.) EPITAPH. r. b. My lot was meagre fare, disease, and shame At length I died — you all must do the same XXVII. (639.) ANOTHER. m. Fortune and Ho2:)e, farewell ! I 've found the port : You 've done with me — Go now, with others sport ! THE SAME PARAPHRASED. moore. At length to Fortune and to you. Delusive Hope, a last adieu ! The charm that once beguil'd is o'er. And I have reach'd my destin'd shore. Away, away ! your flattering arts May now betray some simpler hearts ; And you will smile at their believing. And they shall weep at yovir deceiving. XXVIII. (642.) EPITAPH ON A FRIEND. * p. 288. m. How often, Lycid, shall I bathe with tears This little stone which our great love endears ! Tliou too, in memory of the vows we made. Drink not of Lethe in the realms of shade ! 248 EPIGRAMS BY XXIX. (650.) ON A HAPPY OLD MAN. * p. 293. h. and b. Take old Amyntor to thy breast, dear soil. In kind remembrance of his former toil. Who first enriched and ornamented thee With many a lovely shrub and branching tree. And lured the stream to fall in artful showers Upon thy thirsting herbs and fainting flowers. First in the spring he knew the rose to rear, First in the autumn cull the ripen'd pear ; His vines were envied all the vUlage round, And favouring Heaven shower'd j^lenty on his ground. Therefore, kind Earth, reward him in thy breast With a green covering and an easy rest. XXX. (679.) ON A MISERABLE OLD MAN. * p. 292. b. By years and misery worn, no hand to save With some poor pittance from a desperate grave. With the small strength my wretched age supplied, I crawl'd beneath this lonely pile, and died. Screen'd from the scofF of Pride, and Grandeur's frown. In this sad spot I laid my sufferings down, Revers'd the doom of nature, and instead Of dead and buried, was entomb'd and dead. XXXI. (711.) EPITAPH ON AN INFANT, r. b. Too soon, grim Monarch, with unholy hand, You snatch'd this infant to your dreary land. UNCERTAIN AUTHORS. 249 Like some fair rose-bud, pluck'd from mortal sight Ere all its beauties open into light. Cease, wretched parents ! cease your wailings wild. Nor mourn for ever your departed child ! Her youthful graces, and her form so fair. Deserved a dwelUng in the realms of air. As H3'las once — believe the soothing lay ! — The Nymphs — not Death — have borne your child away. XXXII. (712.) ANOTHER. sHEPHERn. Five years I lived, with lightsome heart and gay, Tlien, tranquil, mingled with my fellow clay. Mourn not my fate ! my days of life were few ; My pleasures brief — but brief my sorrows too. XXXIII. (78.) FUNERAL HONOURS. * p. 295. m. Seek not to glad these senseless stones With fragrant ointments, rosy wreaths ; No warmth can reach our mouldering bones From lustral fire, that vainly breathes. Now let me revel whilst I may : The wine that o'er my grave is shed Mixes with earth and turns to clay — No honours can delight the dead. XXXIY. THE SAME SUBJECT. b Oh, think not that with garlands crown'd. Inhuman near thy grave we tread ; M 5 250 EPIGRAMS BY UNCERTAIN AUTHORS. Or blushing roses scatter round To mock the paleness of the dead ! What though we drain the fragrant bowl, In flowers adorn'd and silken vest. Oh, think not, brave departed soul. We revel to disturb thy rest ! Feign'd is the pleasure that appears, And false the triumph of our eyes ; Our draughts of joy are dash'd with tears, Our songs imperfect and in sighs. We inly mourn ; o'er flowery plains To roam in joyous trance, is thine ; And pleasures, unallied to pains. Unfading sweets, immortal wine. XXXV. (738.) EPITAPH. * p. 296. m. Thou art not dead, my Prote ! though no more A sojourner on earth's tempestuous shore ; Fled to the peaceful islands of the blest. Where Youth and Love, for ever beaming, rest ; Or joyful wandering o'er Elysian ground. Among sweet flowers where not a thorn is found ! No winter freezes there, no summer fires. No sickness weakens, and no labour tires ; No longer poverty nor thirst oppress. Nor envy of man's boasted happiness ; But spring for ever glows serenely bright. And bUss immortal hails the heavenly light ! NOTES. ARCHILOCHUS. Page 1. I. Kijdea fiev irrovoevTa, Ilepii^Xees' The three fragments here brought together, and which are believed to be unconnected portions of a single Elegy, are pre- served respectively by Stoba^us (Flor. cxxiii. p. 615. Gesn.) and by Plutarch (De Aud. Poet. torn. ii. pp. 23,33). Commentators are divided as to the subject to which the poem maybe supposed to have had reference ; but there seems enough in the expressions made use of to render at least very plausible the conjecture of Schneider, that they allude to an actual tempest, in which the brother-in-law of the poet, among other citizens of distinction, suffered shipwreck, — an interpretation accordingly followed in the version here offered in substitution for that in the former edition, which was founded on a different apprehension of the meaning of the original. From our brief memorials of the poet's life we learn, that the Pericles here addressed as a friend, became afterwards a bitter enemy of the poet, and, as such, fell under the severest lash of his formidable iambics. II. 'AfTTTiCu [X€y 2aiwj' Tts uyaWerai' This Epigram, for such we may consider it, is compounded of two dibtichs, one preserved by Aristophanes {Eiqyii//i, 1298), 252 NOTES. and assigned by the Scholiast on that passage to its right owner ; — the other, though in a broken state, by Plutarch (torn. ii. p. 239). The " Foe-man," in the original, is 2«iW rtg — A cer- tain Man of the Sa'i'ans, — the ancient, perhaps aboriginal, inha- bitants of the island of Samothrace, in an expedition against whom the accident here alluded to is supposed to have hap- pened. It may be doubtful whether it is to this circumstance, or to that of a similar occurrence in the life of Alcaeus, that Ho- race makes the remarkable comparison of an event in his own history — " Tecum Philippos, et celerem fugam Sensi, relicta non bene parmula." — II. Od. 7- Both FalstafF and Hudibras, it is probable, benefited by the threefold example of these warrior-poets. III. Ou Toi TToXX' CTTt To'^a TuvvaaeTaC From Plutarch, in his life of Theseus, where he calls Archilo- chus as a witness to the introduction of the mode of fighting hand to hand by the Abantes, the ancient inhabitants of Euboea, whom Homer also thus notices (Iliad. B. 542.) — ra> S' oi^ " hZau- Tis ivovro. " Eubcea next her martial sons prepares. And sends the brave Abantes to the wars ; — Down their broad shoulders falls a length of hair : Their hands dismiss not the long lance in air ; But with protended spears, in fighting fields. Pierce the tough corslets and the brazen shields." (Pope.) IV. *AX\' ctye, aw KwQiori. From Athenaeus, lib. xi. p. 483 ; where the Reader will find abundance of learned dissertation as to the shape and uses of the peculiar species of drinking-vessel here named, which, it seems, was of Spartan invention, and suited to the purposes of naval and military expeditions. Jacobs supposes the words to ARCHILOCHUS. 253 be addressed to an attendant cup-bearer ; but there is nothing in the original to support the conjecture. V. Ow (piXeu) fiiyat' orparj/yov ovce BiaTreirXeyfiiyov. This long mutilated and disjointed fragment, restored by Brunck upon collation of various passages in the works of Die Chrysostom and Galen, and the old Scholiast on Theocritus, presents a curious picture of the martial character and habits of that early age, although liable, in some respects, to be diversely interpreted. The meaning here adopted seems to be borne out by several passages in Homer — as, for instance, his picture of the boaster Othryoneus — t6u /3«>i£* v-^pi fii^xi/rx. (Iliad, xiii.) " Proud of himself and of th' imagin'd bride. The field he measur'd with a larger stride. Him, as he stalk'd, the Cretan javelin found — " (Pope.) and of the fair-haired Euphorbus — Kofixi xo^^iTiaaiy of^oloci. (II. xvii.) "The shining circlets of his golden hair. Which ev'n the Graces might be proud to wear — " whilst, on the other hand, the portrait of Tydeus — "Whose little body lodg'd a mighty mind — " may be regarded as constituting a resemblance to the reverse of the medal. It seems, after all, more than probable that the portraits presented were meant as individual likenesses ; and, if so, they afford no unfavourable specimen of the author's talent for personal satire. VI. Ov fioL TO. Tv-yeoj rov TroXvy^pvaov fxiXei. (Pre- served by Plutarch, de Anim. tranq. ii. 470.) The wealth of Gyges, like that of Croesus, appears to have very early passed into a proverb. It will be recollected that the poet was contemporary with the former monarch. 254 NOTES. The third verse of the original — fiiy»h.Yii; ovx, i^a rvqxuuiloi — is commended by the Scholiast on ^schylus (Prom. 224), who remarks that the term "tyranny," as applied to kingly govern- ment, was unknown to the Homeric age, and may very proba- bly have been first introduced by Archilochus himself in this passage. VII. ToTos dydpwTTOitn dvfios, YXavke AcTrr/i ew ttciI •ytVerat dvarols okoitjv Zeus c^' i]fxepr]v uyei. (Preserved by Stobaeus.) Archilochus is classed by Suidas among the ancient Sceptics on account of this couplet. It is, however, only borrowed by him from Homer (Od. xviii. 135.), and is again imitated in a Latin couplet attributed to Cicero by St. Augustin (De Civit. Dei, v. 8.) " Sunt hominum mentes, quali pater ipse Deorum Jupiter auctiferas lustrabat lampade terras." VIII. rXav/ce vpa. (Heraclides Ponticus, de AUeg. Homer, c. iv. p. 12. Schow.) The same verses, with the omission of the last hemistich, maybe read in Plutarch (De Superstit. t. ii. p. 169). Their pre- sent amended form is due to the successive labours of Pierson, Brunck, and Wakefield. IX. Ovfie, Bvfi dfirj^avoiai Kij^eaiv (cv/cwytteje. Ibid. Tots Qeols ridei tci TravTct. ttoWcikis fxev e^ Kcawt'. X. Xprffxarwi' deXirTOv ovZev ktJTLV ovS' dirwu.OTOv. These, which are severally preserved by Stobseus as three de- tached fragments, have been conjectured, from the style and mat- ter, to belong to the same poem, the general design and tendency of Avhich may be inferred from them. To the first and second may securely be traced the " ^Equam memento " and " Permitte Divis cjetera " of Horace. The principle of imitation may also be ARCHILOCHUS. 255 discerned on comparison of Horace's second Ode with the third of these fragments, which is yet more remarkable as containing the most ancient classical allusion extant to the phscnomenon of a solar eclipse — the frequent occasion of superstitious fear and wonder even to much later ages. XI. 'il Zeii, (7oy fity ovpayov icpuTOS, av B' epya ctt' ardpbJTTOvs pets Xeojpya re KaQe^icr-a. Ibid. Oi) yap kaQXii tcnrOarovffi, KepToyieiv ctt' avcpdair. Ibid. Oil ris alcolos ^er (kttiov Kanrep elcpij^os dai'ivy yiverai, xdpiv ce BfidWov tov i^ojov BiwKOfj.ev ^wo\ dydpwTTioy. cacKTra ce rw dayvyri ycyerdi. This also is composed of three separate fragments, which may, like the preceding, be supposed to have been originally united, or at least incorporated in a single poem. The apparently im- pious ascription to the Supreme Deit^^ of all the portentous evils with which human nature is afflicted, is noticed by Clemens Alexandrinus (Strom, v. p. 725.), and made the subject of com- parison with a passage in the remains of the Pseudo-Orpheus — He out of good can bring Evil to man — dread battle — tearful woes — He, and no other. (Elton.) All. Hde c WOT ovov pcix^s earrjKey vXrjs dypius eniOTe^iis. Oh yap Ti icaXos ^uipos uvo' t.)^i' (papfxatcop o' apiuTOV oivov kveiKafiivoLS luiedvadrjv. This stanza is preserved in Athenseus, lib. x. p. 430. IV. NiJv ■)(pi) fxedv(Tdr]v Kai j^Qova Trpos ftiav Trairjv, eTreiSfj Kcirdape MvptnXos. A song of triumph on the death of Myrsilus, tyrant of Mity- lene. Hence Horace: Nunc est bibendum, nunc pede libcro Pulsanda tellus. N 26G NOTES. V. Teyye Trtevi-iova oh'O)' to yap iiarpuv TrepiTeWerai a c' wpa y(^a\€7Ta, ttcivtu ce ^i^prj vtto Kavfxuros, d^el c €K TrerdXwi' race dp rerri^ dvdet Kai (TKoXvfios' vvv le yvvaiKes ^lapwraTai, The two last verses are supplied by Proclus, the Commen- tator on Hesiod. The whole is a close imitation of a passage in " The Works and Days " of that poet. " When the green artichoke ascending flowers. When, in the sultry season's toilsome hours, Perch'd on a branch, beneath his veiling wings. The loud Cicada shrill and frequent sings ; Then plump the goat, then best the wine, and then Are women sprightliest found, and feeblest men." (Elton.) VI. Wivwfxev' tI ret \v\v dfiervoiiev ; BctKTvXos djiepa. Blomfield has arranged this fragment according to a conjec- ture of Porson (Eurip. Medea. 494.) The phrase Aix,x.TvMg cijiii^x, here rendered " the day invites," means perhaps no more than to express the swiftness of time by reference to the shortest standard of space. The three preceding fragments are found in Athenseus, lib. x. ^'^II. Mapficilpei ce ^eyas cofxos j^aX/cw. (Athen. xiv. p. 627.) It is not easy to see why this spirited poem has been inter- preted as a description of the ornaments of the poet's own house. At least such a meaning is not clearly deducible from the words of Athenaeus in the passage where it is cited. It seems never- theless to have been so considered, both by Casaubon, and by the French translator, M. de Villebrune, and is so consonant ALCiEUS. 207 with poetical tradition, as perhaps to justify not merely our ad- herence, but even a liberty taken with the concluding verses, by giving to them a sense conformable to the same supposition, without violence to the original, although not strictly warranted by it. VIII. 'ApyaXeov Trei'ta KciKoy ciffKeroy' a jueyoi/ These two fragments have been joined together from similarity of subject. They are both in Stobseus, Tit. 96. IX. Ou Xidui, ol^e ^vX', ovie r6j^v7; reKTOftJV a^ iroXeis eleriv, ctAA oTTOu TTor av (omv avcpes avTct (Tb)'C€LV elZoTes, kvravQa Tei\r] Kcil TroXeis. This passage, metrically arranged in the volume of Sir Wil- liam Jones's Works which contains his well-known paraphrase, is cited in pi'ose by the rhetorist Aristides, who professes to give rather the sense than the express words of the poet. On this account, probably, and perhaps also from despair of reducing the passage, even conjectural! y, to any form of regular metre, it is altogether omitted by Blomfield ; and, in a more recent Ger- man edition, it is inserted in prose, as it is found in Aristides. It needs scarcely be remarked that the lines above given from Sir W. Jones constitute only a small portion of the poem to which they belong, the remainder being the application of the sense of the original to the circumstances of the British empire. N -J 268 NOTKS. STESICHORUS. Page 33. I. 'AeXtos S' 'YnepioviSas denas eaKarefjaive ypixreov, • o^pa 2i' wKcavoTo Trepdaas d(piKOid' lepds ttotI /3er6ea VVKTOS €p€j.Lra.s, TTori /xr/repa, KOvpiUav t aknyov, vai^as re vai(n KardaKiov TTOfffft nais Aios. It would perhaps require no great exertion of critical inge- nuity to reduce this and the following fragments (preserved by Atheneeus, lib. xi.) to the form of hexameter verse. There is no reason for supposing that all the poems of Stesichorus were written in the strophic form. In the first, Hercules is represented as parting from his com- panion, the Sun, after they had crossed the ocean together in a golden cup. This mythological conveyance for the Sun was adopted by several early poets, according to Athenteus. Has it any connexion with the amphora in which Hercules is also made to traverse the ocean on another occasion, for the libera- tion of Prometheus ? With respect to the remaining fragments, there is little to be said in the way of illustration. They all, more or less, bear witness to the romantic spirit which seems to have animated the author, and which would induce us, from what liitle is left, to style him the Ariosto of Greece, rather than, with some of the epigrammatists, to dignify him with the appellation of her Second Homer. The second, in the present series, might have been expected to come from the " Morgante Maggiore," or from a metrical chronicle of Richard Coeur de Lion. We are else- where informed by Atheneeus, that Stesichorus was the first iBycus. 209 -xN-riter who represented Hercules " in the costume of a robber " with his club and lion's hide,— the traditional garb with which painters and sculptors have ever since invested him. Before his time, the hero had always been imaged bj' poets as the " mighty hunter" of the Odyssey, with bent bow and embroidered bal- dric, atn ^ai'hioVTt lotKug. II. ZKVTTcptioi' U Xaj-)ojy deiras efifierpov ws TpiXayrfvor, TTtev €Ti(Tx6fi€vos, TO po. oj TrapedrjKe ^6\os Kepatras. (Athen. xi. p. 499.) III. OvveKa Tvrcapews pe^(.)v TTtto-t OeoltTi, fiids KvTrpi^os Xdder' -nTTioCuipoV Kciva TvySdpeu) Kovpaiai yoXiiytraixkva Itya- fiovs rpiydfxovs re riQuai, Kai XnreTijropas. (From the Scholiast on Euripides, Orest. 249.) IV. UoXXa Kv^wi'ia /nd\a Troreppi- TTTOVV TCOTi Clj/xa* ae fiev Kvnpis a T dyayoj-jXicpapos IletGw poceoicriy ty dyOeai 6pe\pay. 2/0 NOTES. II, ^HjOi juej' u'lTE Kvcwi'tai. See note, p. 377 of the former edition. The version there published was founded on a misconception of the original, which it has been sought to correct in that now substituted. ALCMAN. Page 39. " Concerning Megalostrata, whom he loved with an honour- able passion, a woman skilled in the art of versification, and well qualified to retain lovers by the charms of her discourse, he thus speaks : fiUKCCt^a TTX^Shu ot,^xv&x MiyxhoaT^otrx," (Athen. loc. cit.) MELANIPPIDES. Page 40. 'A /uej/ 'A0ava opyav eppL-tpev 6' lepos cnro xeipos eiTre r opper ct'tcj^ea. (tw/j-citl \vfxa i] fie rah^ eyw KuKorari didwfn. Having referred above to the passage in Athenaeus, where this singular fragment occurs, we have only now to remark that we have here the original of that pretty mythological conceit which Moore has recently revived in music and poetry of equal beauty. (See Evenings in Greece, p. 156.) " As Love, one summer eve, was straying. Who should he see, at that soft hour. But young Minerva, gravely playing Her flute within an olive bower ?" &c. AXACREOX. — CLEOBULUS. 2/1 " Quick from the lips it made so odious. That graceless flute the Goddess took. And, while yet till'd with breath melodious. Flung it into the glassy brook ; Where, as its vocal life was fleeting Adown the current, faint and shrill. At distance long 'twas heard repeating, ' Woman, alas ! vain Woman still !' " ANACREON. Page 41. We may be excused for passing over these well-known compo- sitions without any additional commentary, and without even further references than those made by the numbers prefixed to each ode. The epigrams which have been selected are also on subjects requiring no illustration, and are to be found in almost every one of the numberless editions of the author's works. CLEOBULUS. Page 53. Xa\K€t] TrapQefos eifxl (Cod. Vat. p. 228. Not in Pla- nudes.) " Lmposita erat," says the Commentator, " tumulo Midse senea pueilae statua, cui Epigrammatis auctor aeternitatem quandara promittit." Virgil seems to have had this inscription in his eye, when he wrote, " In frcta dura fluvii current, dura raontibus umbrae Lustrabunt convexa, polus dum sidera pascet. Semper honos, nomenque tuura, laudesque manebunt." 272 NOTES. SIMONIDES. Page 54. " Simonides, whose fame, through years And ages past, still bright appears. Like Hesperus, a star of tears." (Moore's Evenings in Greece, p. 70.) Lyric Fragments. L Ov^e yap oi Trporepoy iror kniXoiTO. (Stob. Flor. Tit. 96.) " Ne Deorum quidem filios, priscos illos heroas, vitam molestiis et periculis immunem egisse." (Jacobs.) So, in the fragment of an Elegy ascribed to Callinus, (as rendered by H. N. Coleridge) — " Once to die is man's doom — inish, rush on to the fight ! He cannot escape, though his blood were Jove's own. For a while let him cheat the shrill arrow by flight. Fate will catch him at last in his chamber alone." n. " AvBpwiros ewy, fit'iTrore ///«»' els redyavai )(^p6yos' TTuvpa KttKuis eVeo. (Id. Tit. 122.) Bior^s /jLef yap ■)^p6yos iaTi j^puKvs' Kpv QepfxoirvXais davoi'Twy. (Died. Sic. xi. 11.) The fragment of a Hymn to the memory of the Spartans who perished at Thcrmopyltc ; and the first in a long series of the remains of this patriotic poet, expressly consecrated to the cause of Grecian freedom and independence. His imitators in the same strain are numerous ; and almost to the latest hour of Grecian poetry, the glorious incidents of the Persian war were the frequent and favourite subjects of celebration, with very little variety either of expression or mode of treatment. It may 276 NOTES. be worth remarking, that Simonides, to the writers of the Au- gustan sera, stood, in point of date, at about the same distance as Chaucer to ourselves. His Hymn on Thermopylae may be regarded as the Chevy Chacc of Grecian poetry. Epigrams. I. Twv ce hi' dyOpwnutr. (Cod. Vat. 288. Steph. 204.) The following title is prefixed to this Epigram in the Vatican Copy. " Upon the Greeks who made Tegea free." It was their valour that saved the city from being burned by the enemy, and its smoke ascending to the clouds. It is not very certain to what particular occasion, in history, the poem has relation. II. O'lce TpirjKOfTioi. In the collection of Planudes (Steph. 205.) without the name of an author. In the Vatican MS. inscribed, "The author un- certain ; some say, Simonides." The event to which it alludes is one of those most strikingly characteristic of an age of border chivalry. See Herodotus, i. 82, and compare with this the ac- count given by Sallust of the death of the soldiers of Catiline : " Nam fere, quem quisque pugnando locum ceperat, eum amissa anima corpore tegebat." Adrastus was king of Argos, and the only one of the seven confederate princes who escaped — and that by a disgraceful flight — from the Theban slaughter. The sarcasm of this allusion must have been keenly felt by the Ar- give nation. III. 'H i-iey Wdrjyaloiai (p6u}S y€V€d\ ryi't\' 'Ajotoro- •yeiTwv 'iTTTrapj^or /creire, Koi 'Apuv^Los. (Hephsest. Enchir. 40.) IV. Tbv TpayoTTOvv e^kWdra,Tov ApKaca, roi' caraMj/^wKj Tov fier 'Adrjraiwy, (TTrjaaro MiXriaSijs. (Steph. 336.) See Herodotus, vi. 105. p. 486. SIMOXIDES. 277 V. 'ii $€t>' dyyeXeu' AaKedai/ioylois on rrj^e KeifieQa, rols Kcivwy pijfinffi -KeiBv^evoi. (Cod. Vat. 244.) See Herodotus, vii. p. 612. And Cicero, Tusc. Qusest. i. 42, where it is to be found thus rendered — " Die, hospes, Spartae, nos te hie vidisse jacentes, Dum Sanctis patriae legibus obsequimur." W. ^Iriiiia Tole KKeiroio Meyifrrla. (Cod. Vat. 31.3. Steph. 511.) On Megistias the Soothsayer, who, after having predicted the event of the conflict at Thermopylae, refused to accept his dis- mission, and died fighting by the side of Leonidas. (See again Herodotus, vii. 221.) , VII. El TO KaXws di'WKeir. (Cod. Vat. 244. Steph. 200.) Compare Herodotus, i. 30. VIII. "Arr[3e<7Toy kUos oUe. (Cod. Vat. 244. Steph. 200.) Compare Horace, III. ii. 21. "Virtus recludens," &c. " To him who not deserves to die. She shows the paths which heroes trod. Then bids him boldly tempt the sky. Spurn off his mortal clay, and rise a God." IX. Al^' virep'EXXarwy. (Steph. 512.) From Athenaeus, xiii. p. 573, who relates, on the authority of Theopompus and Timaeus, that, during the Persian war, the courtesans of Corinth offered supplications to Venus for the safety of Greece, in remembrance of which, at the termination of the war, the Corinthians dedicated to the goddess a painted tablet with this inscription. X. A»j/Joicpiros rplros i^p^e. From Plutarch, ii. 8G9, who inveighs against Herodotus, for 278 NOTES. having (viii. 46.) made mention of this brave action of Democri- tus the Naxian admiral, without subjoining this Epigram. XI. 'O ^eij'' evv^puv. Also from Plutarch, ii. 870, where it is given without the name of an author, which is supplied by an allusion to it in Dio Chrysostom, Or. xxxvii. p. 459. See the account of this great battle, Herodotus, vii. 89. XII. OvTOS ' Aleijidi'TOv Keivov Tacfios, ov cm /3ouXo$ 'EWtts ekevdeplas clfxtp^dero (yTeiparoi'. (Cod. Vat. 257.) From Plutarch, t. ii. p. 870, where it is cited anonymously, but ascribed to Simonides by Dio Chrysostom, Or. xxxvii. p. 459. See the Commentators on Herodotus, 662, with respect to the influence here supposed to have been attached to the counsels of the Athenian admiral. XIII. 'E^ ov y' EvpujTrav 'Aaias B/)(a tto'jtos eVetjLie. (Cod. Vat. 250.) From Diodorus Siculus, xi. 62, and Aristides, iii. 260, in which places it is exhibited with many variations, happily re- conciled by Dorville (Chariton, 628.). It records the victory ob- tained by Cimon the Athenian on the coast of Cyprus over the entire naval force of the Persians, which enabled him to pene- trate into Pamphylia, and effect a second conquest over their land forces assembled on the banks of the Eurymedon. But, as these events took place after the death of the elder Simonides, it follows that, if the name of the author be rightly assigned to the verses in which they are severally recorded, they must belong to the nephew. From the remarkable expression used in the first verse of the Epigram above cited, it has been supposed, that the author meant to allude to the tradition of a deluge by which the continents of Asia and Europe were torn asunder, having been previously SIMONIDES. 279 united ; but the words may mean to imply no more than (peri- phrastically) "from the commencement of the world," or "from time immemorial." As in the following example from the An- thologia Latina, t. i. p. 122. " A sole exoriente supra Mseoti' paludes Nemo est, qui factis me sequiparare queat." XIV. O'lceTrapEvpyjue^oi'Ti. (Cod.Vat.245.Steph.201.) This Epigram is the sequel of the former. The Sepulchre of the Athenians who perished on the occasion here referred to, was still to be seen outside the walls of Athens in the time of Pausanias. XV. Twt'Ee TTore arepvoicn, (Cod. Vat. 275.) XVI. To^a ra'^e irrdXe/zoto. (Cod. Vat. 141. Steph. 441 .) XVII. OvTU) Toi fieXla. (Cod. Vat. 150. Steph. 442.) " It was the common opinion that Jupiter was the first cause of all sorts of divination ; it was he that had the books of fate, and out of them revealed either more or less, as he pleased, to inferior djemons ; for which reason he was surnamed Panom- phceus, as Eustathius tells us in his comment on Homer, Iliad, (f , 250. " there, at the holy fane. To mighty Jove was the glad victim slain — To Jove, from whom all divination comes. And oracles inspir'd unriddle future dooms." (Potter's Antiq. i. 309.) XVIII. Xaiper apiffrrjes TroXefiov. (Cod. Vat. 244. Steph. 201.) Supposed to have been written on the Athenian youth who perished at the commencement of the Peloponncsian war. If so, it must be ascribed to the younger Simonides. 280 NOTES. XIX. ^Ipcjjvos e^fi{]dr]fi€v viru ittv)(J. (Steph. 205.) The revolt of Euboea from the Athenian yoke took place about sixteen years before the commencement of the Peloponnesian war. If the present Epigram be supposed to have reference to that period, the elder Simonides may be entitled to its author- ship ; but this is doubtful. XX. 'Av^pos api(7T€u(TarTos. (Steph. 511.) From Thucydides, lib. vi. 59 ; where he relates that Hippias gave his daughter Archedice in marriage to J^antides, son of Hippoclus, tyrant of Lampsacus, where was her monument bearing the above inscription. XXI. 'Hn€pnrar9e\KT€ipa. (Cod. Vat.211. Steph. 276.) XXII. OvTos ' AvaKpelorra. (Cod. Vat. 211. Steph. 276.) No ancient poet was ever so much cherished by the Epigram- matists as Anacreon ; and it must be admitted that there is very little variety in the mode of treatment of the subject. XXIII. Ot jJiey eyue Kretuavres ojdolcjv aprirv^oiey, Zev, Seri' ol h' inro ydv Qkvres^ovaivTO ftiov. This Epigram, in the Vat. MS. p. 219, is inscribed, " Simo- nides, having discovered a naked corpse lying in a certain island, and having interred it, wrote as follows." The epithet given to Jupiter, Sivios (which ought perhaps to have been preserved in the translation,) is supposed to imply that the murder was com- mitted by the hands of those who ought rather to have per- formed the rites of hospitality. XXIV. OvTos 6 rov Keioio ^ifi(ori^ov eart aaiortip, OS KUi Tedi'Tjios ^uirr uTre^toice yjiipiv. Concerning the incident to which this Epigram bears allusion, Cicero writes (De Divinatione, i. 27) : " Simonides, having found the body of some unknown person washed up by the sea, and SIMONIDES. 281 buried it, and being afterwards about to embark, was warned, by a vision of the dead man appearing to him, to postpone his in- tention, lest he should suffer shipwreck. He returned in obe- dience to the warning, and those who sailed without him pe- rished as was foretold." The same story is related by Valerius Maximus, with the addition, that he composed this Epigram in commemoration of his rescue. XXV. IloWa 0aywj', Kai ttoXXci ttiwj', Kai TroXXct kok Av6p(l)Trovs, Kelfxat TifxoKpeuji' 'Polios. Athenseus, lib. x. p. 415, mentions Timocreon, a poet and athleta of Rhodes, among the great eaters and drinkers of his day, and gives this Epigram as his authority. Diogenes Laertius entertains us with the account of a dispute between him and Si- monides, which probably gave rise to this stroke of satire at his expense. XXVI. 'a-'ire M]}xriTpos. (Cod. Vat. 379. Steph. 373.) In the Vatican MS. this Epigram is ascribed to Antagoras of Rhodes. The circumstance of Xenocles, of whom nothing else is recorded, being himself mentioned as a Rhodian, may seem to strengthen this testimony. The road on which this bridge was built was probably that leading to Eleusis. XXVII. Bote tor I'l vXrirph. (Cod. Vat. 1 10. Steph. 450.) This, and the following Epigram, are also of doubtful parent- age. Some ascribe them to Iledylus ; others to Asclepiades, in- stead of Simonides. The allusions they present are obvious. XXVIII. -Evippib Kal Qals. (Cod. Vat. 1 10. Steph. 104.) XXIX. 'H arev ku'l 09(^eras. (Steph. 512.) The Anthology contains abundance of Epigrams on dogs and other animals, as well as on the various implements of the chase. 282 NOTES. They are frequently tiresome from repetition, but sometimes ex- hibit points of diversity which render them deserving of note. XXX. ^TTCtjorcts fxev l^aaiXfjes cjxol Tzarepes kcu a.Se\^oi. (Cod. Vat. 610.) The name of this victorious lady was Cynisca, who obtained the prize in the chariot race, Olymp. 87, after the death of her father Achidamus, king of Sparta. From this date it is evident that the poem is falsely ascribed to Simonides. Her brother was the renowned Agesilaus. Xenophon, Plutarch, and Pausa- nias, severally bear witness to the occurrence. XXXI. npct^ireXj/s 0)' eVaffxe. (Stejih. 331.) The first line should have been printed, "Well has the sculptor what he felt express'd." Athenaeus (lib. xiii. p. 591.), speaking of the celebrated Phryne, records that Apelles painted her in the character of Venus emerging out of the sea ; and that Praxiteles the sculptor, who was a favoured lover, made her the model of his statue of the goddess at Cnidos, and also caused these verses to be inscribed to her honour on the base of his statue of Cupid in the theatre ; not, as it seems, meaning to imply that Praxiteles was himself the author of the Epigram, though the dates of history are in- consistent with its being ascribed to Simonides. XXXII. 'lUpir] Tepdyeia. (Cod. Vat. 286.) Geraneia is the name of a rock or promontory, situated on the coast between Megara and Corinth, whence Ino, in the fable, precipitated herself into the sea, together with her infant Meli- certa, when flying from the madness of Athamas. It seems to have been a place of evil repute to seamen. XXXIII. Sw>a juev dWo^aTT*}. (Cod. Vat. 288. Steph. 256.) SIMONIDES. 283 An Epitaph on one Clisthenes, who perished by shipwreck in the Euxine on his passage to Chios. XXXIV. Aigws k-ai KXeocoyuoj/. (Cod. Vat. 288.) The person here celebrated appears to have fallen into an am- buscade of hostileThracians,and to have preferred death to flight, which was in his power. XXX\ . Tovs K aVo Tvpprivuiv tiKpodli'ia (polfia ayovras ey TreXayos, fiia vavs, els rdcpos eKTepitre. Supposed, by Schneider, to have been inscribed to the memory of some young Messenians, who, being sent to Rhegium with spoils of war, as an offering so Apollo, were wrecked on the voyage. XXXVI. AX at t'odp6pei. (Ibid.) This is given according to Hermann's metrical system. XIII. E'tfle \vpa KaXrj yeroljJLav eXecpairivr] Kai fie KuXol irai^es (^npoiev Aiovvaiov els ')^op6v. €10 airvpov KaKov yevoijxriv fxiya j^pv(Tiov Kal fxe KaXt) yvrrj (^opolrj KaQapov defxtyt] voov. (Ibid.) This may be considered as the original of many similar " wishes " among the amatory poets, at least, if the ode ascribed to Anacreon (See before, XX.) be of subsequent date. Compare with this No. I. of our Specimens of Uncertain Authors, and Shakspeare's sonnet, " Air, quoth he, thy cheeks may blow ! Air ! would I might triumph so !" scoLiA. 295 XIV. 'Eff-i fiot ttXovtos fiiyas Zopv, kiu t,i(pos. (Ibid.) We cannot omit the opportunity of paying our tribute to the decided superiority of the following version over that whicli has been inserted in our own pages. " My wealth is here — the sword, the spear, the breast-defending shield ; With this I plough, with this I sow, with this I reap the field ; With this I tread the luscious grape, and drink the blood-red wine; And slaves around in order wait, and all are counted mine ! But he that will not rear the lance upon the battle-field. Nor sway the sword, nor stand behind the breast-defending shield. On lowly knee must worship me, with servile kiss ador'd. And peal the cry of homage high, and hail me mighty lord !" " Many," observes the translator, " as they read these stanzas, will have their thoughts recalled with melancholy pleasure to the ' Allan-a-dale ' of our own great departed minstrel, whose strains — free as they are of all conscious imitation — so often, through the force of kindred genius, seem to echo the bold and vigorous expression of the finest Grecian poetry." (Edinb. Rev. as before.) It must, however, be noticed that the last-cited version is founded on a different metrical construction, involving a repe- tition of the first couplet in the way of burden, from that ob- served by Jacobs. XV. Yyicia, TrpeajolffTa ^laKupwv. (Athen. XV. 702.) We are here also met by another version from the same pen that dictated the preceding, but cannot afford room at present to furnish the means of a comparison, which may be easily made by reference to the Article in the Review already so largely drawn upon. The author justly remarks, that the original bears 296 NOTES. evidence of a later date than the fragment (See before. No. IX.) of Simonides from which it is manifestly taken. XVI. 'Q-cpeXes w rvcfXe TrXovre. (Schol. Aristoph. Acharn. v. 532.) XVII. Ajoera iroKvixoyfie. (Diog. Laert. Vit. Aristot. v. p. 272.) In Jacobs's Commentary on this celebrated composition is a long discourse on the metrical arrangement, and true reading, of the words, into which this is not the place to enter. Her- mias, in whose honour it is said to have been written, affords a striking, because an early example of elevation to power among an unfortunate class of persons whom the customs of Oriental despotism have furnished many subsequent instances of exalting by similar caprices of fortune. He was, like Mahomed Shah of Persia, an eunuch, and at first the slave of Eubulus, whom by his cunning counsels he aided in ascending to tyrannic sway over the cities of Atarnse and Assus, and whom he afterwards succeeded in the same domination. It is recorded of him, that, in remembrance of his early misfortune, he never could endure that mention should be made in his presence of knives or other cutting instruments. -ESCHYLUS. EMPEDOCLES. 297 PART II. ^SCHYLUS. Page 93. I. KuareT? kcu roixrBe. (Cod. Vat. 24.5. Steph. 201.) The authenticity of the two Epigrams ascribed to this great poet has ahxady been said to be very questionable. With regard to the present, it is not only doubted whether it relates to the warriors of Marathon or those of Thermopylte, but it has even been conjectured that it belongs to some event of a much more recent date, even so low doAvn as the reign of the last Philip of Macedon. II. Al^xy^oi/ Ev(poplu)yos. (From the Life of ^schylus, by an unknowTi ancient writer, prefixed to his Works.) It is also alluded to by Athenajus, xiv. 627, and by Plutarch, De Exilio, tom. ii. p. G04. EMPEDOCLES. Page 95. Uav (Tai lay larpov cttwj'v^oj', Ay^tVov v'lai', (^lUJT AaK\r]7ria.dr]i/ Trarpls eQuxpe I'eAo, 'Os TToWovs fjiuyepolffi fxapaivofiivovs KajjiaTOLcrt (puirus HTrerTTpexpei' Ilepae(poras OuXayuwj/. We give the entire Epigram for the purpose of doing justice to the pun, which consists in the derivation of the name 'I'ausanias' <«3-o T8 vctviiv T«f cii/ioc;. Diogenes Laertius claims it for Em- pedocles, contrary to the authority of the Vatican MS., in which it is ascribed (greatly to his prejudice) to Siraonides. 298 NOTES. EUENUS. Page 96. I. noXXots avriXeyeij' fxev edos. (Atlien. ix. 367. J It is also to be found in Stobseus, Tit. 82, whence Grotius has rendered it thus — " Sunt quibus is mos est, nullo ut discrimine contra Dicere, non etiam dicere recta velint. His ego censuerim vetus hoc debere reponi : Ilia tibi placeant, dum magis ista mihi. Rem bene si dicas, prudentes flectere paucis Est tibi ; sunt etenim ductilis ingenii." II. Kijv fie (payrjs errt pi^av, ofiws en i:apTro(pop}'i(T(jj, b(Taov eiTKnrelaai aoi, rpaye, dvofievio. This distich, preserved by the Scholiast on Aristophanes (Plut. 1130.), is ascribed in the Vatican MS. to Euenus of As- calon. Everybody knows Ovid's version — (Fast. i. 357-) " Rode, caper vitem : tamen huic, cum stabis ad aram. In tua quod spargi cornua possit, erit." Suetonius tells us that Domitian was persuaded to revoke his barbarous edict for rooting up the vineyards, chiefly in conse- quence of the popular odium excited by the dissemination of the following ominous parody. " Though thou should'st gnaw me to the root. Great Csesar ! still enough of fruit I bear to sprinkle on thy head. When victim to the altar led." III. Arfft Kopa, neXidpeTTTe. (Cod.Vat.375. Steph.86.) The difficulty of finding an appropriate version for this very pretty and fanciful Epigram consists in the mythologic identity of the Bird (the swallow) and the "Attic Maiden" (Progne) EUENUS. 299 who was metamorphosed into that animal. Tliis fable was so familiar to Grecian ears that they suffered no violence in the human appellation being transferred to the brute representative; but the transfusion into the English idiom is unavoidably at- tended with a degree of harshness, unless accompanied by an explanation which destroys its effect. It might indeed have been converted to "Attic Songstress/' or "Attic Minstrel;" but this would have been entirely to abandon the allusion. On the other hand, the single epithet (A.if^i&^i'Tm, which Broda-us ren- ders, paraphrasticallj', "delicatis nutritam cibi.s," and which Jacobs conjectures to have reference merely to the sweetness of voice of the bird which is thus addressed, we have ventured rather to ascribe to the diet on which it may be supposed to be nourished — namely, the wild thyme of Mount Hymettus, so ce- lebrated as the material from which its honey was gathered. The tone of the swallow's voice is surely anything but sweet or musical ; and accordingly it is fitly designated as noisy, or prat- tling, rather than praised as melodious. Its domestic qualities were, probably, those which so endeared this bird to the an- cients ; and the attachment which they constantly appear to bear towards it, tends to excite a reciprocity of feeling in our minds towards themselves. IV. Selvoi, Tijy TrepiftujTov. (Cod. Vat. 367. Steph. 97.) We do not understand why the allusion to the immortality of Homer's divine poem, conveyed by the epithet ^cct'hKiiuu, as ap- plied to the gates of Troy, should be designated by Jacobs as " satis frigide." It rather appears to us to be poetically just and forcible. V. BiiKxov fierpov apiarov. (Cod. Vat. 514. Steph. 180.) The proportion of water with which the more moderate among the Grecian sages recommended that wine should be diluted, was as three parts in four, a recommendation here ingeniously typi- fied by linking Bacchus with three Water-nymphs in the dance. 300 NOTES. SIMMIAS. Page 99. (Cod. Vat. 211. Steph. 274.) PLATO. Page 100. I. 'Aorepas elcradpe'is 'Acrri/p efios' eide yevoinrji'. OvpavoSy ws TToXXoTs hfi[xa sf60» iHfiYjuxg ^vfcov 'i^uri Aiau. Perhaps it should rather have been rendered above, " But who the phrensy of my love can stay ? " XIV. l^avrjyov Tcicpos elfii' 6 ^' avTiov eari yeojpyov. (jjs aXi Kal yah] L,vi'6s vizear A'i^-qs. See Petronius, where, after reckoning up the various kinds of accidents to which human life is liable, both by sea and land, he concludes — " Si bene calculum ponas, ubique naufragium est." XV. Navjjyov jue UdopKas. (Cod. Vat. 246. Steph.245.) XVI. 'AXffos c" ws cKOfierrda (oa6v(TKiou. (Cod. Vat. post Tit. Steph. 3.32.) " These lines may have been suggested either by the casual circumstance of finding a child carelessly stretched after the fa- tigue of archery under a tree, and sleeping, or by a statue placed in a retired spot, to suprise those who might happen to pass that way. I have preferred that interpretation which seems to me most consonant with the general spirit of the Greek Epigram ; and which appears to be justified by the occurrence of a similar image in the Latin Anthology. " ' Forte jacebat Amor, victus puer alite somno, Myrti inter frutices, pallentis roris in herba.' " (Bland, p. 403.) SPEUSIPPUS. ARISTOTLK. 307 And again — "Lata coliors apium subito per rura jacentis Labra favis texit, dulces fusura loquelas." XVII. 'A KvTTpis Mo/pu)v AnciTa Kp^rjaaov k^iov Ketcpirai, The Parody of which, by Mnasalcus, (p. 113,) is as follows : 'Ao' eyw d rXafiwv 'Apera irapa. rrjSe KaBrjuat 'Yicovi] aleT^tarojs Ketpafieya irXoKUfiovs dvfJLOv «X^' fieyaXo) fie(3oXr}jieva, eiirep aTcaaiv a KUKOfpuyy Tepipis Kpeiaaov kyuiv KeKpirai. The former of these Epigrams is amplified by Ausonius, in that beginning — " Ajacis tumulo pariter tegor obruta Virtus — " The second is taken from Athenseus, lib. iv. p. 163, and praised by Eustathius (ad Iliad. /3. 216). Its object is to expose the sen- sual princijjles of the Cyrenaic sect of philosophers, of which Cicero (De Finibus) — " Omnescjue simplices sententias eorum 308 NOTES. in quibus nulla inest virtutis adjunctio, omnino a philosophia semovendas putabo : primum Aristippi Cyrenaicorumque om- nium ; quos non est veritum, in ea voluptate, quae maxime dul- cedine sensum moveret, sunimum bonum ponere, comtemnentes istani vacuitatem doloris." MNASALCUS. Page 110. I. 'AjuTTcX', eTreiTOL