Ex Libris 
 C. K. OGDEN
 
 THE 
 
 FIRST AND SECOND BOOKS 
 
 OF 
 
 LUCRETIUS 
 
 Translated 
 
 PRIVATELY PRINTED 
 
 1879
 
 LONDON : 
 
 *n SON, PRINTERS, MA1DBX 
 COVENT GARDEN.
 
 PREFACE 
 
 THE following is a reprint of an attempt made long 
 ago by the translators " Audaces juventa," to put 
 into English verse a portion of the most original and 
 remarkable of Latin poems. They have thought it 
 possible that the reprint, which is not meant for the 
 Public or the Critics, may interest a few of their 
 friends. 
 
 Sir John Trelawny is responsible for the first Book; 
 Sir Robert Collier for the second. 
 
 1C97?<1S
 
 ON THE NATURE OF THINGS. 
 
 THE FIRST BOOK. 
 
 PARENT of the ^Eneadas delight 
 Of Gods and men benignant Venus ! thou 
 Who 'neath the gliding spheres of Heaven adorns't 
 The ship-supporting main and fruitful lands ; 
 Since through thee is each living thing conceived, 
 And, risen into being, sees the light : 
 Thee, Goddess, flee the winds the clouds flee thee 
 And thy approach ; to thee the daedal earth 
 Sends forth her fragrant flowers ; with tranquil smile 
 The sea looks up at thee, and Heaven's expanse 
 By storms unruffled shines with light diffused. 
 For when the year assumes its vernal garb, 
 And freed Favonius, increase-giving, rules, 
 Thee, Goddess, first, and thy new presence felt, 
 Smit with thy power, aerial birds confess : 
 Then thro' glad pastures maddened cattle bound, 
 
 i
 
 2 ON THE NATURE OF THINGS. 
 
 Spurning the torrent's course ; won by thy charms 
 With amorous speed, where'er thy course inclines, 
 All animated nature follows thee : 
 In fine, thro' rapid streams, o'er mountain tops, 
 'Mid leafy haunts of birds and blooming fields, 
 Kindling sweet love within the breasts of all, 
 Thou biddest every glowing tribe transmit 
 From age to age its own vitality. 
 
 Since thou alone the Universe control'st, 
 Nor aught of lovely or desirable, 
 Save at thy nod, partakes of light and life 
 My Muse invokes thee her associate, 
 While she expounds Eternal Nature's Laws 
 To Memmius, my friend, whom thou wouldst see 
 Excel in learned lore all other men. 
 Therefore the more with sempiternal charms 
 Invest my words ; grant that the din of war 
 May cease meanwhile, subdued by land and sea. 
 For thou alone canst mortal men delight 
 With tranquil peace, since over battled hosts 
 Armed Mars presides, who oft falls on thy breast, 
 By Love's eternal tribulation torn : 
 When looking up, his taper neck reclined,
 
 ON THE NATURE OF THINGS. .3 
 
 Gazing on thee he feeds his eager looks, 
 
 Whilst on thy lips his glowing spirit dwells ; 
 
 Throw, Goddess, round his form thy sacred arms, 
 
 And from thy lips, Renown'd One, pour sweet plaints, 
 
 Imploring gentle peace may rest on Rome. 
 
 For, 'midst distracting cares of warlike strife, 
 
 My Muse cannot her placid course pursue ; 
 
 Nor should the offspring of a noble line, 
 
 E'en for Philosophy, forsake the State. 
 
 And now, my friend, lend me attentive ears ; 
 
 From cares estranged, explore true Reason's paths, 
 
 Nor spurned reject, before yet understood, 
 
 These gifts for thee with studious care prepared. 
 
 For 'tis my purpose to unfold, at large, 
 
 The laws of Heaven, the nature of the Gods, 
 
 The elements primordial of things 
 
 Whence Nature forms, augments, and nourishes 
 
 Her products, which, in course prescribed, resume 
 
 Their simple state called Matter ; primal germs, 
 
 Because from these all forms material spring. 
 
 But to the nature of the Gods belongs 
 Immortal Life, enjoyed in peace profound, 
 From every human care remote ; with them 
 
 i *
 
 4 ON THE NATURE OF THINGS. 
 
 Nor pain nor danger dwells ; each passion sleeps 
 Serene, with native gifts content ; applause 
 No merits win, no vice provokes to wrath. 
 
 When human life lay trampled under foot, 
 Borne down on earth by fell Religion's might, 
 Which from Heaven's highest realms its head 
 
 displayed, 
 
 Daunting with horrid aspect mortal man ; 
 Against it first a Greek was bold to raise 
 The eyes of men, and first to curb its sway ; 
 Whom not the fame nor lightning of the Gods, 
 Nor Heaven's murmured threats could e'er restrain ; 
 But these the more in him the valorous will 
 Aroused to be the first to burst the bars, 
 And open wide Eternal Nature's gates. 
 Thus has mind's vivid force prevailed, and far 
 Advanced beyond the flaming bounds of space, 
 And with bold thought explored the whole Immense, 
 Whence he, a victor, brings us back report 
 What may, what may not, into being spring ; 
 How each thing has its force and limits fixed. 
 Thus bruised, in turn, lies Faith beneath our feet, 
 And victory exalts us to the skies.
 
 ON THE NATURE OF THINGS. 5 
 
 But here I dread lest haply thou should'st deem 
 Thou art misled by impious reasonings 
 Into the paths of crime the opposite 
 To truth ! for oftener has Faith begot 
 Shameless and impious deeds ; what time the Chiefs 
 For fame elect, who ruled the Doric host 
 At Aulis met, the Trivian virgin's shrine 
 Stained foully with Iphianassa's blood. 
 When now the veil which decked the maiden's 
 
 locks 
 
 From either cheek in equal portions flowed, 
 And she her grieving sire at the altar's side 
 Beheld, from whom the priests concealed the knife, 
 And at the sight each sad spectator wept ; 
 Speechless with fear she bent her suppliant knee, 
 Nor did it then avail her that the King 
 From her had first the name of Father heard : 
 For, borne by men, and trembling, was she dragged 
 Towards the shrine not that, due rites performed, 
 She might return in Hymeneal state 
 But, 'midst her bloom, unstained, might sorrowing fall 
 By impious slaughter at a parent's hand 
 To earn a fleet a prosperous destiny 
 Sample of evil deeds by creeds enjoined.
 
 6 ON THE NATURE OF THINGS. 
 
 Yet, may be, sometime terror-struck by tales 
 Of bards, thou would'st desire me to desist ? 
 But then my fancy might as well invent 
 Fictions, which might disturb your judgment calm, 
 And veil in gloom your future destiny. 
 With reason too. Yet could men once foresee 
 In Death their certain term of woe, no more 
 Thus vainly would they brave the threats of Faith, 
 Constrained to dread in Death eternal pain. 
 For men still lie in ignorance profound 
 On the essential nature of the Soul ; 
 Or with the frame connate, or first at birth 
 Infused ; and whether it become extinct 
 At Death, or whether Orcus' caverns vast 
 Receive it ; or, by agency Divine, 
 It seek in turn the various forms of beasts, 
 As sung our poet Ennius, who first 
 From Helicon a crown unfading won, 
 Glorious alike to him and to his race. 
 And yet he too describes, in strains sublime, 
 The palaces of dismal Acheron, 
 Where souls nor bodies sojourn such as ours, 
 But certain pallid shadows ever glide ; 
 Whence, he relates, the ghost of Homer rose
 
 ON THE NATURE OF THINGS. 
 
 Immortal Bard ! and, as the salt tears flowed, 
 To him at full expounded Nature's laws. 
 
 Wherefore, 'tis meet our argument advert 
 Not only to the Gods, and to the laws 
 By which the Sun and Moon their courses hold, 
 And earthly forms into existence spring, 
 But also to the nature of the Soul, 
 And awe-inspiring phantasies which crowd 
 Our thoughts, in fevers wakeful, or in dreams, 
 So that we seem to see and hear the dead, 
 Whose bones the earth within her bosom holds. 
 
 Well knows my Latin Muse her arduous task 
 Her subject new, her tongue as yet unskilled 
 In terms of art, whilst she unfolds at large 
 Doctrines obscure, by Grecian sages taught. 
 Thy worth, with hoped-for joy of friendship sweet, 
 Makes labour light, whilst I, thro' nights serene, 
 Essay to choose fit words and worthy strains, 
 Such as may to thy mind impart clear light 
 By which thou mayest hidden causes search. 
 
 The native darkness of the Soul, perturbed
 
 g ON THE NATURE OF THINGS. 
 
 By craven fears, no lucid shafts of day 
 
 May penetrate, but Reason's power alone, 
 
 Of which this is a fundamental truth : 
 
 Nought, e'en by act Divine, from nothing springs. 
 
 In truth, a certain awe possesses men 
 
 As they behold the changes of events, 
 
 For which, lest such should causeless seem, they feel 
 
 Constrained to own an origin Divine. 
 
 But once concede that nought from nothing springs, 
 
 And straight we clearly trace each consequence, 
 
 Both whence the rise and bounds of things create, 
 
 And how events succeed without the Gods. 
 
 But if from nothing aught could spring, each form 
 Might also spring from each distinct in kind. 
 First, from the sea might men arise, from earth 
 Each sort of fish ; then from the sky might birds 
 Break forth ; sheep, cattle, every sort of beast 
 Would find their place, in waste or fruitful clime, 
 By chance alone ; the fruit of trees would change 
 Inconstant ; whilst on all all sorts might grow. 
 Forsooth, if things had not peculiar germs, 
 How then should kinds from kinds so certain spring 
 As they so spring, in fact, by certain laws,
 
 ON THE NATURE OF THINGS. 
 
 But there appearing to the light of day, 
 Where first are found parental germs of each ? 
 Forms then spring not from forms distinct in kind, 
 Each has, in truth, but one productive source. 
 
 Why should the rose the Spring, the Summer corn 
 Prefer, the vine in Autumn flow alone : 
 But that fit germs then opportunely meet, 
 And everything create create appears 
 At its own season, when the fruitful earth 
 Can trust its tender buds to light of day? 
 If out of nothing things could sudden spring, 
 No more would they fixed seasons need for growth ; 
 As being without those germs primordial, 
 Whose confluence ungrateful climes might mar. 
 
 Nor, further, would the growth of things require 
 A period fixed, could they from nothing spring ; 
 For children would at once to manhood grow, 
 At once would shrubs ascend to tallest trees : 
 Against experience, since by degrees 
 Defined alone maturity is won ; 
 For the accrescence of its elements, 
 In each peculiar, conserves each kind.
 
 10 ON THE NATURE OF THINGS. 
 
 Nor could the earth, unless by rain refreshed 
 At seasons due, its joyous harvests yield ; 
 Of food deprived, each race of animals 
 Would fail to be renewed, and be extinct. 
 Hence, then, confess that all created things 
 Partake of certain common elements, 
 As vary words, whose letters are the same, 
 And nothing, but for these, could e'er exist. 
 
 Moreover, might not nature frequent bear 
 Gigantic men, such as should wade the deep, 
 And with their hands whole mountains rend in 
 
 twain, 
 
 Surpassing, too, the usual term of life, 
 But that the substance each partakes is fixed, 
 By law determining what may arise ? 
 From nothing, therefore, nothing can emerge, 
 Each form requiring generative germs, 
 By which alone it breathes the air of day. 
 
 And since we see the meadow far exceed 
 The waste, and ever yield the richer crop, 
 Needs must we own the earth contains the germs 
 Of products which, when plough-share first upturns
 
 ON THE NATURE OF THINGS. II 
 
 The fruitful soil, we summon forth to life ; 
 And, but for these, each form spontaneous, 
 Without our toil, superior far might grow. 
 
 Think not, whilst forms decay, their germs become 
 Extinct ; these re-assume their primal state. 
 
 Indeed, if such could mortal be throughout, 
 Each form might sudden vanish from our sight, 
 And no disruptive force would be required 
 To cause decay, and sever parts conjoint. 
 But, since each form contains eternal parts, 
 It cannot perish, under Nature's law, 
 Till subtle forces penetrate the mass, 
 And, severing the parts, dissolve the frame. 
 
 Besides, could Time annihilate the germs 
 Of forms which their allotted term fulfil, 
 How thence could Venus from extinction save 
 The race of animals ; or, how the Earth 
 By nourishment support her tender charge ? 
 How could each native spring supply the Sea, 
 Each river's serpent course ? or ether feed 
 The stars of Heaven ? The past would have consumed
 
 12 ON THE NATURE OF THINGS. 
 
 All matter, were it to extinction prone. 
 But, if thro' all that period vast elapsed, 
 The sum of things has ever been the same, 
 It must be from mortality exempt. 
 Therefore, to nothing, nothing can return. 
 
 Again, unless Eternal matter held 
 The parts of things more close conjoined in some 
 Than others, then one force might all destroy. 
 Extinction might succeed the lightest touch ; 
 For, were no parts from dissolution free, 
 Some force might then the closest texture mar. 
 But now, because textures dissimilar 
 Bind concrete forms whose substance is eterne, 
 Their bulk remains inviolate, till force 
 O'erpower their several coherency. 
 Nought then to nothing can return; when things 
 Decay, they seek their primal elements. 
 
 But rain is lost, soon as the Father Air 
 Has poured it on the lap of Mother Earth ? 
 But thence bright crops arise, and branches bloom 
 On trees; these gather strength, and teem with fruit. 
 Hence, too, Man's race, and animals are fed ;
 
 ON THE NATURE OF THINGS. 13 
 
 Hence we behold our towns with children swarm, 
 Whilst with young birds each leafy grove resounds ; 
 The sated herd their wearied frames repose 
 'Midst joyous fields, and from distended teats 
 The candent liquid streams ; their young, refreshed, 
 With wanton gambols mar the tender blade. 
 Thus Nature merely moulds anew what seems 
 To be extinct ; each new-made form in turn 
 Dissolves, and yet no part is ever lost. 
 
 And, that thou may'st not rash withhold assent 
 When I assert that nothing springs from nought, 
 And that to nothing, nothing can return, 
 Because we cannot see primordial germs 
 Hear now what forms thou must of force admit 
 Exist in things, and yet cannot be seen. 
 
 For first, the Winds, aroused, disperse the clouds, 
 Roll up the deep, and shatter navies vast ; 
 Sometimes they scour the plain with torrent course, 
 Strewing it far and wide with levelled trees, 
 Whilst wooded hills moan 'neath the splintering blast 
 With such might rage the Winds, by land and sea. 
 Doubtless, because unseen material forms
 
 14 ON THE NATURE OF THINGS. 
 
 Sweep over sea and earth, and bear along, 
 
 In whirlwind course, the harassed clouds of sky ; 
 
 So speed the gales, their path with ruin strewn ; 
 
 As when a gentle brook is sudden swoln 
 
 By tributary streams, which recent floods 
 
 Pour from the mountain on the plain below, 
 
 Bearing the spoils of forests in their course ; 
 
 Nor can strong bridges break th' united force 
 
 Of rushing waters : with such boisterous might 
 
 The turbid current shakes each trembling mass, 
 
 Which falls with loudest crash ; whilst stones, in 
 
 vain 
 
 Resisting, roll along beneath the waves. 
 Thus, therefore, like a mighty stream, the Winds 
 Their course pursue, and with impetuous gusts 
 O'erwhelm whatever thwarts their headlong flight, 
 Nor speed abate, but oft, with tortuous course, 
 Snatch up, and whirling, bear away their prey. 
 Wind, then, consists of parts material ; 
 For as, in its effects, it rivals streams, 
 It must, like them, partake of solid bulk. 
 
 Then, further, various odours strike the sense, 
 And yet these in their course escape our sight.
 
 ON THE NATURE OF THINGS, 15 
 
 Heat, cold, and sound lurk hidden to the eye ; 
 And yet all these must be material, 
 Since they, by contact, agitate the nerves 
 For body only can be touched, or touch. 
 Clothes, too, hung high above wave-breaking shores, 
 Grow damp ; in sunny warmth outstretched, they dry ; 
 Tho' all unseen, both how they first imbibe, 
 And then how Heat exhausts, the dewy spray ; 
 Doubtless, because the fluid is reduced 
 To parts impalpable to human eye. 
 
 Again, a ring, upon the finger worn, 
 Grows less as Sol renews the circling years ; 
 To dropping water stone gives way ; the plough 
 Wastes, unobserved, its crooked tooth i' the soil ; 
 We see our stone-laid pavements trodden smooth ; 
 Our brazen statues, standing near our gates, 
 Show one hand smoothed, by greetings frequent paid, 
 Or pious reverence of passers-by. 
 So far may loss of substance be discerned, 
 Though Nature jealously precludes our view 
 Of each receding particle of bulk. 
 
 Besides, the keenest eye must fail to scan
 
 l6 ON THE NATURE OF THINGS. 
 
 Each single atom which, by Nature's art 
 Constrained, adapts itself to growing forms ; 
 Or which, in turn, becomes disjoined by age, 
 Or wan disease ; or where huge cliffs impend 
 The main, by rock-devouring brine dissolved. 
 Therefore, we must admit that Nature moulds 
 Or mars her works by agency unseen. 
 
 And yet think not that matter sole pervades 
 The whole Immense, since there is Space besides, 
 A truth it much imported thou should'st know, 
 And which will banish far vain thoughts and doubts, 
 About some undefined Sum of Things, 
 Raising distrust of these my reasonings. 
 Now Space, defined, is Place of Matter void. 
 
 Without this Motion were impossible, 
 For body, which implies resisting force, 
 Would progress intercept on every side, 
 Since progress without space could not begin. 
 Whereas, by sea, by land, 'midst Heaven's high vault, 
 We daily see all kinds of forms partake 
 Of motions various, which, but for space, 
 Not only would of motion be deprived,
 
 
 ON THE NATURE OF THINGS. 17 
 
 But never could, in fact, have been at all, 
 Since matter would have lain compressed, inert. 
 
 Nor are the parts of things which densest seem 
 So dense that they allow no space between. 
 In caves, pure water may be seen to flow 
 From rocks whose droppings seem like tears to fall ; 
 Food thro' the body is distributed ; 
 Trees grow, and in due season yield their fruit, 
 Because their roots supply fit nutriment, 
 Which is diffused throughout each trunk and branch ; 
 Voices thro' walls are heard, through houses barred 
 They fly ; cold's rigour penetrates the bones. 
 Impossible, but that the particles 
 Of each sufficient space for transit find. 
 
 And why, I pray, should things predominate 
 In weight o'er others, differing not in size ? 
 For, if like bulk of wool and lead contain 
 Like body, then their weight must be the same, 
 Because alike all matter downward tends, 
 While contrary space without weight subsists. 
 Therefore, of equal bulks, the lighter found 
 
 2
 
 *8 ON THE NATURE OF THINGS. 
 
 Plainly contains the more of vacant space ; 
 The heavier has greater wealth of germs, 
 Containing less of vacuum within. 
 Therefore sagacious reason must admit 
 That with all body there is blended space. 
 
 And here beware an argument advanced, 
 On evidence unsound, though plausible, 
 By those who say the sea receding yields 
 The scaly tribe a passage thro' the deep, 
 Because each fish behind it leaves a space 
 Wherein the brine displaced reverts to rest, 
 And that thus other forms may no less move, 
 Though matter solely fill the Universe. 
 In vain : for how should fish advance, unless 
 The waters yielded space ? or water move, 
 The fish the while restrained in state of rest ? 
 Thus Motion must to body be denied ; 
 Or else we must admit a vacuum, 
 By which alone it ever could begin. 
 
 Moreover, if two polished surfaces 
 Are sudden drawn apart, the air without 
 At once attempts to fill the space between.
 
 ON THE NATURE OF THINGS. 
 
 And yet, tho' favoured by conspiring winds 
 Around, it cannot simultaneously 
 Fill all the space : for it must occupy 
 Each part before it can possess the whole. 
 
 But if one say it might possess the whole 
 At once, because the air becomes condensed, 
 Then that would void become, which was not void, 
 And that be filled, which was a void before. 
 Air cannot, as assumed, be thus condensed ; 
 And if condensed, it could not without space 
 Have all its parts thus drawn into itself : 
 Thus, spite of hours in cavil vain misspent, 
 Needs must thou grant a vacuum exists. 
 
 In short, I might, by many reasons more 
 Add force to what has been already urged ; 
 But I forbear. Your prompt sagacity 
 Requires no further clue to know the rest : 
 As mountain-ranging hounds full oft disturb 
 The copse-protected lair of some fierce beast, 
 Whose errant track they once have scented out, 
 So may you in this argument from step 
 To step advance, till you have quite explored 
 Truth's dark retreat, and brought her forth to day. 
 
 2 *
 
 20 ON THE NATURE OF THINGS. 
 
 But should'st thou fail at first to apprehend 
 Each novel view, this pledge at least accept, 
 My Memmius ; fed from our Fountain deep, 
 My fertile tongue shall from my soul pour forth, 
 In accents sweet, such copious draughts of lore 
 That I may fear lest thro' each limb old Age 
 Should halting creep and ope the gates of life, 
 Ere these my strains have to your ears conveyed 
 What any single topic might suggest. 
 The more, then, to our subject let us haste. 
 
 All Nature, in her first and simplest state, 
 Comprised two elements ; Material forms, 
 And Space, in which these move and being have ; 
 The former to sensation palpable, 
 On which, should we not place implicit faith, 
 No standard of opinion remains 
 To found belief, or regulate assent ; 
 The latter, Place, or, as we call it, Space, 
 Were it nowhere, nowhere could bodies be, 
 Nowhere could they in various ways be moved, 
 A truth by recent arguments enforced. 
 
 Moreover, Nature no third element
 
 ON THE NATURE OF THINGS. 
 
 Contains from body as from space distinct. 
 For were there such, when it began to be, 
 It must have had or more or less of size ; 
 Which, if it could endure the lightest touch, 
 Tho' small its bulk, to Body would belong ; 
 But could it not be touched, nor yet resist 
 Whatever might thro' it attempt to pass, 
 It then would plainly be what we call Space. 
 
 Whatever, too, exists, must either act, 
 Or else be passive to extraneous acts, 
 Or suffer acts performed within its bounds. 
 Now Body only bears, or acts itself; 
 Space only suffers acts within its bounds. 
 Therefore, no other native quality 
 Remains besides, save only Body and Space ; 
 Whether of things of which our senses judge, 
 Or which the mind, by taking thought, conceives. 
 
 Whatever else is called an entity 
 Must be of these an adjunct or event ; 
 The former marking some condition fixed, 
 Essential to its subject's permanence. 
 Thus, Stones are heavy, Water moist, Fire burns,
 
 22 ON THE NATURE OF THINGS. 
 
 Body is tangible, while Space is not. 
 But Liberty, and Slavery, and Wealth, 
 War, Poverty, and Peace states transient 
 By which, present or absent, Nature still 
 Remains unchanged, all such are called Events. 
 
 Time, of itself, is nothing ; but the Mind 
 Observes, in things themselves, what has transpired, 
 What now exists, what will hereafter be ; 
 And no one can take cognizance of Time 
 But from the mutability of things. 
 
 And when we hear of Helen's ravishment, 
 And how the Trojans were subdued in war, 
 Such facts must not be said to be themselves, 
 Since all the men by whom these acts were done 
 Relentless Past has long since borne away. 
 Whatever has been done at any time 
 Is an Event of persons or of things 
 
 In fine, had Matter never been at all, 
 Nor Place, nor Space, in which events occur, 
 The glowing flame, in Phrygian Paris' breast 
 By the fair form of Tyndaris lit up,
 
 ON THE NATURE OF THINGS. 23 
 
 Could never have aroused such conflicts dire ; 
 Nor could the wooden monster have brought forth 
 Those hidden Greeks who buried Troy in flames. 
 And hence observe that great exploits achieved 
 Cannot, like Matter, unsupported stand, 
 Or be, as Space is often said to be ; 
 But these are rather what are called Events 
 Of Body and of Place, where they are done. 
 
 Body sometimes preserves its simple state, 
 Sometimes its parts cohere, and blend in forms. 
 But no one atom is divisible ; 
 Their solid forms no force can overcome. 
 And if known facts should seem to contradict 
 That bodies purely solid should exist 
 For lightning penetrates the thickest walls ; 
 So sounds of human tongue ; iron grows white 
 In fire ; and glowing stones in splinters fly ; 
 Gold's rigid temper heat disintegrates ; 
 Brass, too, runs molten 'midst the conqu'ring flame ; 
 But silver cold as well as heat pervades, 
 As, when we lift the bowl, our hands discern 
 The water poured within, or hot or cold ; 
 And thus, in Nature, nothing solid seems :
 
 24 ON THE NATURE OF THINGS. 
 
 Attend, I pray, since Truth requires thus much, 
 While briefly in these verses I expound 
 How those Eternal solid forms may be, 
 Which we have called primordial elements : 
 Because they form the Sum of Things create. 
 
 Now, first, since it appears the Universe 
 Contains two opposites, Body and Space, 
 For, without Space, Events could not occur, 
 Each must subsist alone, and be distinct : 
 For where pure Space exists, which we call void, 
 There Body is not : again, where matter is, 
 There Space, too, clearly, cannot co-exist. 
 Thus, therefore, primal forms are void of Space. 
 
 Since, too, some things in part consist of Space, 
 It must by solid Matter be inclosed : 
 Indeed, it were a vain attempt to prove 
 That any concrete form has Space within 
 Unless we grant the solid bounds the void. 
 Of these, the solid can but represent 
 Collected parts primordial, bounding Space. 
 And note, that parts thus solid must exist 
 Throughout all Time, while concrete forms decay.
 
 ON THE NATURE OF THINGS. 25 
 
 Further, if Space nowhere existed pure, 
 The Universe would be one solid whole ; 
 Again, if no material forms fill up 
 The bounds assigned them, all must be a void. 
 Therefore, alternately, since the Immense 
 Is neither wholly full, nor wholly void, 
 Matter and Space distinct exist ; the first 
 Being only found in primal elements. 
 
 The forms of these yield not to blows without ; 
 No subtle force an entrance finds within ; 
 E'en Art assailing, they destruction shun 
 Unfolded this, and proved in earlier verse. 
 For nothing, without Space between its parts, 
 Can suffer fracture, or be rent in twain : 
 Solids resist destructive elements, 
 Or treacherous cold, or moist, or subtle heat. 
 In truth, the less of Space a form contains, 
 So much less likely it will be dissolved. 
 Thus, therefore, solid forms, being destitute 
 Of Space within, needs must eternal be. 
 
 Besides, could Matter perish, then all things 
 Alike might have, ere this, returned to Nought,
 
 26 ON THE NATURE OF THINGS. 
 
 From which things now existing must have sprung. 
 
 But since it has been proved that Nothing springs 
 
 From Nought, and that to Nothing Nought returns, 
 
 There must exist Eternal elements, 
 
 To which decaying forms may be reduced ; 
 
 And whence, in turn, their loss may be supplied. 
 
 These are the simple solid elements, 
 
 By which alone, thro' ages infinite, 
 
 Nature could have sustained the Universe. 
 
 Again, if the divisibility 
 Of matter had no term by Nature fixed, 
 Its part would be so much reduced by Time 
 That Nothing, by their confluence conceived, 
 Could in due season reach the pride of bloom ; 
 For ever things more rapidly decay 
 Than they are formed. And thus the boundless tract 
 Of all-disturbing, all-dissolving Time 
 Would never have allowed the fragile forms 
 It once had marred to be renewed at all. 
 But now, in truth, Decay has been restrained 
 By bounds defined. We see each form renewed, 
 Within some certain time, and, once renewed, 
 At its own time attain maturity.
 
 ON THE NATURE OF THINGS. 27 
 
 And here observe that, tho' primordial germs 
 Are purely solid, yet of these soft things, 
 Air, water, earth, or heat, may be create, 
 Since with these bodies space is intermixed. 
 But, were primordial germs by Nature soft, 
 No means could be assigned whence flinty rocks, 
 Or iron, might be made. Nature would want 
 A sure foundation for her works begun. 
 Still, then, there must be simple solid forms, 
 Of which, condensed, the hardest substances, 
 And least to dissolution prone, consist. 
 
 Moreover, since each living creature born 
 Has its allotted time for growth and life, 
 And since the Laws of Nature have denned 
 What may, what may not, into being spring, 
 And since these never change, but operate 
 So constantly that all the several kinds 
 Of birds preserve their wonted plumage gay ; 
 The substance out of which they spring must be 
 Immutable. For, if primordial germs 
 Subdued by violence could suffer change, 
 It might thenceforth remain in doubt what might, 
 Or what might not, arise ; in short, what powers
 
 28 ON THE NATURE OF THINGS. 
 
 Assigned each natural agent might exert ; 
 
 Nor would each race repeat its type unchanged, 
 
 Like in their natures, motions, habits, food. 
 
 Then, further, since there is a point extreme 
 Of each material form impalpable 
 To human eye, it must be without parts, 
 Being itself the very Least of Things, 
 Which never did, or shall, exist distinct 
 From that whose first and smallest part it is. 
 Now similar particles, each joined to each, 
 In dense assemblage fill up every germ ; 
 And, since they cannot be alone, they must 
 Cohere, with force that nothing overcomes, 
 Which argues solid every primal form ; 
 Since each consists of these the least of things 
 Condensed, but that not by affinity 
 Of parts, but as their first and simple state, 
 In which they were by Nature made exempt 
 From all decay, that germs might be entire. 
 
 Besides, if there were not a minimum, 
 The smallest things might have parts infinite ; 
 For every part would always have its half,
 
 ON THE NATURE OF THINGS. 
 
 Nor would such subdivision have an end. 
 Then how would differ objects large and small ? 
 They would not differ : for tho' infinite 
 The Universe in parts, yet so each part 
 The smallest would be likewise infinite. 
 But since a reasoning soul will not admit 
 This attribute, we are constrained to own 
 That there may be forms wholly void of parts, 
 The Least by Nature ; which, if they exist, 
 Must likewise Solid and Eternal be. 
 
 Again, could Nature not resolve her works 
 Into their first and simple elements, 
 Decaying forms could never be renewed, 
 Because each mass composed of many parts 
 Would want the reproductive quality 
 Dependent on the impact, motion, weight, 
 And form of each, while in its separate state. 
 
 Although, too, the divisibility 
 Of Matter had no certain term defined, 
 Yet that some forms still undissolved remain 
 From all Eternity, our senses prove : 
 But were all things alike of fragile mould,
 
 30 ON THE NATURE OF THINGS. 
 
 Harassed and tossed about time without end, 
 E'en these would not survive the shocks received. 
 
 And as to those who hold the Universe 
 Consists of one, its sole ingredient, Fire, 
 Far have they wandered from true Reason's paths. 
 First in the van stands Heraclitus, famed 
 Amongst some triflers fond of doubtful terms, 
 But ill-received by Greeks who sought the truth. 
 For fools admire and praise the most conceits 
 Dimly perceived and clothed in words obscure, 
 And, won by elegance of sound, mistake 
 For true whatever fascinates the ear. 
 
 For whence this great variety of forms, 
 I ask, if all consist alone of Fire ? 
 Nor would it profit them to say that Fire 
 Sometimes contracts, sometimes dilates its parts, 
 If each contain the essence of the whole. 
 For, though Fire might more fiercely glow, condensed. 
 And waste its energy when rarefied, 
 Yet could no greater change than this be deemed 
 To flow from causes such as these ; still less 
 The great variety of forms we see.
 
 ON THE NATURE OF THINGS. 3! 
 
 If, too, these men would grant a vacuum 
 
 Exists, they might consistently assert 
 
 That Fire may be condensed or rarefied ; 
 
 But, dreading lest they should refute themselves, 
 
 They pause amidst conflicting doubts, and lose, 
 
 By their timidity, the way to Truth. 
 
 Nor can they understand that, but for Space, 
 
 The Universe would be a solid mass, 
 
 Which never could emit aught from itself, 
 
 As glowing fire sends forth both light and heat. 
 
 But then, perchance, it might be urged the parts 
 Of Fire might in their concourse cease to be, 
 Their bounds engrossed by new formed substances ; 
 Then Fire, in truth, to Nothing might return, 
 Whence also each new thing create would spring : 
 For that which loses some essential mark 
 Of what it was ceases at once to be. 
 Now Nothing altogether perishes, 
 For else might all alike return to Nought, 
 And out of Nought renewed abundance rise. 
 
 Since, too, there are primordial elements, 
 Certain unchangeable, material forms,
 
 32 ON THE NATURE OF THINGS. 
 
 By whose departure, access, new array, 
 The nature of each thing remains the same, 
 These, be assured, cannot consist of Fire. 
 For what would it avail that they depart, 
 Or come, or frequently their order change, 
 If all, by Nature, still consist of Fire ? 
 For out of Fire Fire only could be born. 
 In fine, there must be certain primal germs, 
 Whose concourse, order, motion, figure, place, 
 Engender Fire, which changes when they change, 
 Their mutual relations fixed ; now these 
 Neither resemble Fire, nor aught beside, 
 Which from its mass can send forth other forms, 
 And by their contact agitate the sense. 
 
 To say, indeed, that all things are but Fire, 
 And that this element alone exists, 
 Which these same men contend, is but to rave ; 
 For they employ the senses to confute 
 The senses upon which all knowledge rests 
 Even of that which has the name of Fire. 
 For in the case of Fire, the senses rule ; 
 Distrusted yet in things as palpable. 
 A vain and foolish conduct of the mind !
 
 ON THE NATURE OF THINGS. 33 
 
 What evidence have we of true or false 
 What standard not upon our senses based ? 
 
 Why should we take away all other things, 
 And say that one sole element exists, 
 More than deny this one, and leave the rest ? 
 For either would be equally insane. 
 
 Wherefore, those who have thought the Universe 
 Consists of one, its sole, ingredient, Fire ; 
 And those who hold all Nature is but Air; 
 Or those who say Water might, of itself, 
 All products generate ; or, lastly, Earth 
 Might into other natures be transformed : 
 Widely all seem to deviate from Truth. 
 
 And no less those who blend two elements, 
 In one, as Fire with Air, with Water Earth ; 
 Or who maintain that of these four combined, 
 Air, Water, Earth, and Fire, all things are formed : 
 
 Of whom the Agragantine was the chief, 
 Empedocles ; whose native isle extends 
 Its triple promontories 'mid the waves, 
 
 3
 
 34 ON THE NATURE OF THINGS. 
 
 Round which the dark blue rolling deep sends up 
 From breakers vast the salt Ionian spray, 
 And from whose cliffs a narrow stormy strait 
 Divides the sister shores of Italy. 
 Hard by, is vast Charybdis : and not far 
 In murmurs Etna threatens gathered wrath, 
 And from her jaws flames vomited anew, 
 And lightnings shot again thro' Heaven's high vault ; 
 A region which, tho' rich in every gift 
 Admired by man, for wealth, for citizens, 
 Yet nothing had more noble, precious, grand, 
 More hallowed, or more marvellous, than him 
 Whose soul sublime bespeaks the mind in strains 
 So clear, melodious, divine, that thou 
 Would'st deem him sprung from more than mortal 
 stock. 
 
 Yet even he, as well as others named 
 Already, but to him inferior, 
 
 Although they have, as from a shrine, poured forth 
 Responsive Wisdom from their gifted breasts, 
 And words more sound, and far less impious, 
 Than Pythian priestess at Apollo's fane 
 From tripod and from sacred laurel spake,
 
 ON THE NATURE OF THINGS. 35 
 
 Falsely conceived the Elements of Things, 
 And, with their chief, in common ruin fell. 
 
 For, first, they hold that bodies may be moved 
 Without a vacuum, and that soft things, 
 As Air, the Sun, Fire, Earth, Corn, Animals, 
 Need not have Space within their substance 
 mixed. 
 
 Then, they will have Matter divisible 
 Into parts infinite ; and disallow 
 That there can be a point least possible ; 
 When yet, of each thing seen, there is some point 
 Which seems to be the very least of things ; 
 From which one may conclude the points extreme 
 Of things unseen must be, in fact, the least. 
 
 They, too, think primal germs by nature soft ; 
 Such as we know that forms alone can be, 
 Which may be concrete, and dissolved by turns. 
 Then might the Universe sometimes become 
 Extinct, sometimes spring up again from nought ; 
 Both which, how far removed from Truth, thou 
 know'st. 
 
 3 *
 
 3 6 ON THE NATURE OF THINGS. 
 
 Their elements, moreover, are opposed, 
 And mutually destructive, each to each ; 
 Or, if combined, soon would they fly apart, 
 Scattered as storms of thunder, wind, and rain. 
 
 Further, if of four Elements all Things 
 Are made to which all are again resolved, 
 Why should these four be rather Elements 
 Of Things create, than, converse, these of them ? 
 For they, alternately, exchange their states ; 
 Each takes the other's nature, colour, form. 
 But, haply, if thou deem'st that Earth and Air, 
 And Fire and Water, may together blend, 
 And yet preserve their diverse characters, 
 Nothing organic could be formed of them ; 
 Nor creatures having souls, nor those without : 
 For each, in such a heap confused, would show 
 Its proper essence ; nothing would appear 
 But mingled Fire and Water, Air and Earth. 
 In short, primordial parts of concrete forms 
 Must not submit their qualities to sense, 
 Lest these appearing should deprive the forms, 
 Wherein they chance, at times, to congregate, 
 Of their own private essences distinct.
 
 ON THE NATURE OF THINGS. 37 
 
 Then they deduce three of their Elements 
 From yon bright orbs which blaze amid the sky ; 
 Supposing Air derivative from these ; 
 Water from Air ; and then, from Water, Earth, 
 From whence Fire gradually proceeds again ; 
 And, thus, that Elements inconstant share 
 Each other's native qualities, which ought 
 To be incapable of change in each ; 
 For else might everything return to nought. 
 For when an Element bounds oversteps 
 By Nature once assigned, that ceases then 
 To be which was before ; so that Earth, Air, 
 Water, and Fire could not be changed at all, 
 But that they change the germs which they contain, 
 These being, thro' all Time, immutable ; 
 For else, again might all return to nought. 
 The rather, then, conclude that germs like these 
 Haply combining in the form of Fire, 
 By their departure, access, order, changed, 
 May blend in other compounds, such as Air. 
 
 But then, thou say'st, experience proves that plants 
 And animals spring forth to light, and draw 
 Their sustenance from Earth ; and that, unless
 
 38 ON THE NATURE OF THINGS. 
 
 A mild and genial clime indulge their growth 
 
 Which on due heat and moisture must depend 
 
 Each flower and shrub would droop and pine away. 
 
 Doubtless : and, were not dry and liquid food 
 
 Supplied our frames, the principle of life 
 
 Would soon desert our bones and arteries : 
 
 For we, like other animals, extract 
 
 Due nourishment from certain articles 
 
 Of food, and those alone ; forsooth, because 
 
 In many things, many primordial parts 
 
 To many others suitable inhere, 
 
 And thus things are supported, each from each. 
 
 But then it much imports what sort of germs 
 
 Combine, and in what order they are placed, 
 
 What kind of impact they receive or give ; 
 
 For Elements not only form the Sea, 
 
 The Earth, the Sun, the Sky, but every kind 
 
 Of fruits or animals ; in which they are, 
 
 In divers ways, by divers motions, mixed. 
 
 And thus, for instance, in these very lines 
 Are many common elements of words, 
 When, yet, thou needs must own that both the lines 
 And words are different in sound and sense ;
 
 ON THE NATURE OF THINGS. 39 
 
 So much depends upon mere change of place. 
 But much more various are the composites 
 In which material germs may be combined. 
 
 Learn, now, what Anaxagoras has taught, 
 The Homasomerist : a name 'mongst Greeks 
 In use, but in our barren tongue unknown, 
 Which yet affords fit words to state, in brief, 
 The fundamental doctrines of his school : 
 That every form consists of forms minute 
 Resembling it ; that, for example, bones 
 Are but compounded particles of bone, 
 The same in kind ; again, that blood consists 
 Of particles minute of blood-like form ; 
 That gold is formed of parts resembling gold ; 
 And that Earth, Water, Air, and Fire, in short, 
 All things, consist of homogeneous parts. 
 
 He, too, and others, whose opinions 
 We have already weighed, would not concede 
 That Space exists ; and Matter he believed 
 Divisible into parts infinite. 
 
 Further, their Elements, if they retain
 
 40 ON THE NATURE OF THINGS. 
 
 The nature of the composites they form, 
 
 Must be no less to dissolution prone ; 
 
 For how should they escape the common fate 
 
 Of all created things ? could Fire, or Air, 
 
 Could Water, Blood, or Bone, sustain itself? 
 
 Impossible : when nothing is exempt 
 
 From the decrees of stern Mortality. 
 
 But we have proved nothing returns to nougb' , 
 
 And that from nothing nought can spring anew. 
 
 And, since the body is sustained by food, 
 The essence of our veins and blood must be 
 Distinct from that by which they are supplied ; 
 Nor can they say that various kinds of meat 
 Contain the homogeneous elements 
 Required to form our blood and arteries ; 
 For then it could not be maintained that food 
 Itself consists of homogeneous parts. 
 
 Moreover, if those forms which spring from earth 
 Be in their parts complete before they grow, 
 Then earth itself would merely be a mass 
 Of elements from earth dissimilar.
 
 ON THE NATURE OF THINGS. 
 
 Again, if wood comprises ashes, flame, 
 
 And smoke, how then is wood itself defined ? 
 
 Here subtly reasons Anaxagoras, 
 Who, wanting grounds assured, maintains all kinds 
 Of forms lurk unperceived within the bounds 
 Of each ; which there seems individual, 
 Where certain parts in greatest number meet, 
 And lie most palpably exposed to view : 
 Refuted this by Nature's plainest law, 
 For then would corn, when ground within the mill, 
 Discover latent particles of blood ; 
 Which in due time supply the human frame. 
 Each herb would show the nature of the juice 
 It bears within its cells ; whence milk would flow 
 As sweet and fresh as from the fleecy ewe ; 
 Then earth, reduced to dust, would show the parts, 
 Dispersed, and almost imperceptible, 
 Of every kind of grass and corn and leaves ; 
 And thus, in wood might ashes, flame, and smoke, 
 Nay more, the subtle parts of fire, be seen, 
 Of which, since we have no experience, 
 We may at once deny that parts minute 
 Resembling every kind exist in each,
 
 42 ON THE NATURE OF THINGS. 
 
 And still maintain that many elements, 
 Common to many things, conspiring form 
 The infinite variety we see. 
 
 But, sayest thou, when now the southern blast 
 Begins to sweep along the mountain side, 
 The tops of neighbouring trees full oft ignite ? 
 Doubtless ; but yet think not fire lurks in wood, 
 But certain germs, by violence aroused, 
 Conspire, by chance, and take the form of fire. 
 For, if in wood flames really might subsist, 
 How should they be for any time concealed ? 
 Long since each forest would have been consumed. 
 
 And here take note again, it much imports 
 What kind of germs combine ; what order they 
 Assume ; what impact they receive or give : 
 For germs combining form each organism, 
 As the same letters, differently arranged, 
 Form words which signify distinct ideas. 
 
 Lastly, if you conceive the composites 
 We see could never have been formed, unless 
 We first assume primordial elements
 
 ON THE NATURE OF THINGS. 43 
 
 Resembling them : we might as well pretend 
 Laughter is but the prevalence of germs 
 Resembling it, and grief of others, which 
 With copious floods of tears bedew the cheeks. 
 
 Learn now, I pray, what still remains unsung. 
 My subject well I know obscure ; and yet, 
 Great hope of praise has with keen thyrsus stung 
 My heart, and sweet love of the Muses struck 
 Within : so armed, with eager mind, I track 
 The pathless haunts of the Pierides 
 Untrod by foot before. For thus I love 
 To seek the limpid fount and quench my thirst ; 
 I love to gather flowers newly blown, 
 And from the Muses earn a coronal 
 Whence, yet, they never decked the brow of man. 
 For, first, I teach great truths unknown before, 
 And strive to free the faith-enthralled mind 
 From galling chains by superstition forged. 
 Then I array thoughts dark and difficult 
 In lucid verse, with labour not misspent : 
 As, when Physicians would beguile a child 
 To drink the bitter wormwood draught, they first 
 The cup with sweet and yellow honey tint,
 
 44 ON THE NATURE OF THINGS. 
 
 That his unguarded age may be deceived 
 Lip-far at least, meanwhile the cup is drained 
 Of its contents, and thence no harm ensues, 
 But rather, by this practice, health returns. 
 So now, since my philosophy may seem 
 Gloomy to the unlettered, and the herd 
 E'en with aversion spurn it, I essay 
 To chasten its severity by verse, 
 Tinging its surface with Pierian sweets, 
 The better thus to win attentive ears 
 While I expound the Rest of Nature's laws. 
 
 And since we know that solid primal germs 
 Their courses hold eternally in Space, 
 It next may be inquired are they finite 
 Or infinite ; and whether Place or Space, 
 Wherein Events succeed have bounds defined, 
 Or else towards the vast extend Immense ? 
 
 That which comprises all the Sum of Things 
 Cannot itself have bounds, for, were there such, 
 They would appear beyond what they confine ; 
 But that which is, the Sum of Things includes : 
 Therefore, the Universe is infinite ;
 
 ON THE NATURE OF THINGS. 45 
 
 For, though the Mind extend its scope afar 
 Beyond this narrow World, it can conceive 
 No bound that is not of the whole a part. 
 
 Besides, were there some point extreme of things, 
 Some distant region bounding Space, at which 
 A man might stand and hurl a winged dart, 
 Think'st thou it would, if cast with utmost force, 
 Fly where its point is turned ? or cease to fly, 
 Obstructed by some barrier without ? 
 Or this, or that, needs must thou one admit, 
 Though either bar escape, and prove the All 
 Lies open every way from bounds exempt 
 Or whether anything impede the dart, 
 Preventing altogether farther flight, 
 Or whether it continue on its course. 
 
 If, too, the Universe had bounds defined, 
 By which it is inclosed on every side, 
 Borne down by weight, all matter would, ere now, 
 Have been deposited in state of rest ; 
 So that organic creatures must have ceased 
 To spring up under Heaven, the Sky itself 
 Would long have ceased to be, the Sun to glow ;
 
 46 ON THE NATURE OF THINGS. 
 
 Nought would remain but one incongruous mass 
 Of solid forms, condensed, confused, inert. 
 But now we know that germs have no repose ; 
 No barrier arrests their downward flight ; 
 Besides, all kinds of objects daily spring, 
 In every region of the Earth, from germs 
 Ever and ceaseless confluent from Space. 
 
 And though Air terminates the mountain peak, 
 And land in turn defines the atmosphere, 
 Tho' Earth and Sea describe each other's bounds, 
 Yet nothing can define the Universe. 
 Its very nature is Immensity ; 
 
 As though some noble stream should wind its course 
 Perennial ; but never find its term, 
 Which could not even be approached, so wide, 
 So vast and boundless are the realms of Space, 
 On every side, above, around, below. 
 
 Then Nature proves her own Infinity : 
 For Space and Body everywhere supply 
 Each other's bounds : where either first begins 
 To fail, the other thence were Infinite. 
 If Space by Body ceased to be defined,
 
 ON THE NATURE OF THINGS. 47 
 
 The Sea, the Earth, the Sky's refulgent dome, 
 The race of Man, the essence of the Gods, 
 Could not survive a moment's fleeting course : 
 Their primal Elements would diverse fly, 
 Disorganized, throughout the vast Inane ; 
 Or, rather, never could have form attained 
 In such uncertain confluence of germs. 
 
 For know primordial Elements assumed 
 Their present order without Providence, 
 Without the aid of all-disposing mind : 
 Urged here and there thro' ages infinite, 
 Every kind of impact, every change 
 Of motion, and new combination tried, 
 They fell, at last, into the ranks they hold, 
 And thus the Universe was organized : 
 Which, once complete, thro' periods vast, obeyed 
 Such laws as best insured its permanence ; 
 So that each river's constant course supplies 
 Insatiate Ocean ; whilst the kindling beams 
 Of Phoebus warm and fertilize the soil, 
 Which teems anew with animated life, 
 And Heaven glows with bright revolving fires ; 
 Which, were not germs in number infinite,
 
 48 ON THE NATURE OF THINGS. 
 
 Would be impossible : decaying forms, 
 Thus unsupplied, could never be renewed. 
 
 For as, by Nature, every animal, 
 Of sustenance deprived, soon pines away, 
 So would the Universe itself dissolve, 
 Without accession of new particles. 
 
 Again, think not that concrete forms, composed 
 Of finite germs, could ever be preserved 
 By frequent impact of external parts, 
 So that some might be thus detained, till more 
 Might, by their presence, save all from decay; 
 For Force is ever followed by recoil, 
 And germs rebounding would afford both Time 
 And Space for the escape of particles, 
 Which were before compressed in various forms. 
 Germs, then, must be, in number, infinite ; 
 The more, indeed, if they supply the force 
 By which, alone, each composite subsists. 
 
 But, more than all, avoid what some have taught, 
 That all things tend towards some central point : 
 That thus the Universe sustains itself
 
 ON THE NATURE OF THINGS. 49 
 
 Without the force of circumjacent parts : 
 
 That bodies do not uniformly fall 
 
 In downward course precipitous in Space, 
 
 (As if it were not idle to suppose 
 
 Aught could sustain itself; and that each mass 
 
 Which lies the other side beneath the Earth, 
 
 Though tending upwards, still remains at rest, 
 
 As seem our shadows at the water's edge :) 
 
 And that all kinds of animals exist 
 
 Upon the lower surface of the World, 
 
 Which no more fall into the vault below 
 
 Than we ascend into the Sky above, 
 
 And which enjoy the light of day, when we 
 
 Discern the stars of night, and share with us, 
 
 In turn, the various seasons of the year. 
 
 All which has error vain for fools devised, 
 Because they first from Nature's teaching strayed : 
 For in unbounded Space there cannot be 
 A central point ; and could such point exist, 
 Why rather should all bodies thither tend 
 Than to some other region far removed ? 
 For every part of Space, however near 
 The centre, must afford to equal weights 
 
 4
 
 50 ON THE NATURE OF THINGS. 
 
 Their unimpeded course. Nor place exists 
 
 Within which bodies, sudden reft of weight, 
 
 Become for ever fixed and motionless : 
 
 For Space, whose very nature yields the power 
 
 To move, would never stay the course begun 
 
 Of any moving form. The less believe 
 
 That things could in concerted order stand, 
 
 Subdued by passion for some central point. 
 
 Besides, it is not held that every kind 
 
 Of these alike to one fixed centre tend, 
 
 But only those which form the Sea and Earth, 
 
 And torrents flowing from the mountain ridge ; 
 
 Whilst those of which the Air and Fire consist 
 
 Forth from such centre fly; on which account, 
 
 The tremulous starry spheres incessant glow 
 
 Amid the Sky, fed by the gathering fires, 
 
 Which ever Heavenward bend their quivering light : 
 
 As Earth sustains the race of mortal men, 
 
 No less than trees which rear their lofty heads 
 
 Luxuriant with verdant foliage. 
 
 The same men falsely hold some barrier 
 
 Confines the Universe, lest all its parts 
 
 Should chance obtain an outlet, and escape 
 
 Into the infinite supernal void ;
 
 ON THE NATURE OF THINGS. 
 
 And all the World within one moment cease 
 To be, and nought remain but simple Space. 
 
 Thus much, my friend, by generous toil attained, 
 No darkness shall arrest thy further course ; 
 (So much each step assured explains the next,) 
 E'en where the deepest truths of Nature lead.
 
 THE SECOND BOOK. 
 
 'Tis sweet, when tempests heave the mighty main, 
 To view from shore the struggling seaman's toil ; 
 Not that man's suffering pleases, but the sense 
 Of our own freedom from the ills we see : 
 'Tis pleasant too to view from hill secure, 
 The clash of mighty hosts upon the plain : 
 But sweeter far, from the well guarded height 
 Of Wisdom's Temple, rear'd by sages' lore, 
 To look serene upon the throng below ; 
 To mark their restless wanderings all abroad 
 In quest near-ending of the way of life ; 
 Their rivalries in rank, in learned fame ; 
 Their daily, nightly struggles, unrelaxed, 
 For golden store and eminence of power. 
 Poor blinded mortals ! in what darksome paths, 
 What risk and toil, is led your little life ! 
 Oh, deaf to Nature's voice, that asks no more 
 Than body free from pain, that mind untouched
 
 54 ON THE NATURE OF THINGS. 
 
 By cares and fear, in sweet repose enjoyed ! 
 
 But few the wants of this our fleshly frame, 
 
 Few the possessions needful to confer 
 
 Freedom from pain, with many varied joys. 
 
 E'en these, at times, benignant Nature's hand 
 
 Unasked supplies. What though throughout our 
 
 halls 
 
 No youthful forms, in golden mould, illume 
 With lamps in outstretched hand, the midnight feast ; 
 Nor to the lyre resounds the gilded dome ? 
 Yet stretch'd recumbent on the soft green turf, 
 By cooling rill refreshed, 'neath shady boughs, 
 We taste unbought the daintiest joys of life ; 
 Most chiefly then when smiling Summer clothes 
 With varied flowers all the verdant meads. 
 Hot fevers quit not sooner painted quilts 
 And crimson canopies than common sheets. 
 
 Since, then, nor pride of birth, nor rich attire, 
 Can ease our body's pain, nor regal state : 
 Still less can such things profit aught the soul. 
 Unless, forsooth, thou tell'st me that the sight 
 Of legions, all thine own, in martial form 
 Rang'd o'er the plain, of winged fleets that sweep
 
 ON THE NATURE OF THINGS. "55 
 
 O'er Ocean's vast expanse, can from thy Soul 
 
 Chase Death's fell image, and the natural qualms 
 
 Of craven Superstition, while within 
 
 Reigns careless peace of mind, and sweet repose : 
 
 Why then 'twere well : but should experience sage 
 
 Blow notions such as these to empty winds, 
 
 Teaching, stern mistress ! that relentless cares, 
 
 And swift-pursuing fears nor dread the ring 
 
 Of brazen armour, nor the clash of swords, 
 
 Respectless of crown'd heads and dignitaries, 
 
 Undazzled by the sheen of purple robes ; 
 
 What hold we these but painted vanities, 
 
 Which idly strut when Reason hides her head ? 
 
 In one long mental night we live ; like boys 
 
 In darkness ever dreading fancied ills, 
 
 E'en so, in daylight broad, grown children, we 
 
 Affright our souls with images as real 
 
 As boyish bugbears conjured up by night. 
 
 This sombre veil to pierce, no solar rays 
 
 Are needed, nor the lucid shafts of day ; 
 
 But Nature's light by Reason's mirror shown. 
 
 Now to my task. In what perpetual round 
 The generating germs of things create
 
 56 ON THE NATURE OF THINGS. 
 
 New forms, and old dissolve ; by what strange force 
 Impelled, and how for ever guided sure, 
 By laws unerring, through the realms of Space ; 
 These things now pour I to thy listening ear. 
 Most certain this, that no material form 
 Is held compact by bonds indissoluble. 
 All things of Earth we see grow less, by age 
 Dissolving slow, till Time's oblivious stream 
 Bears out of sight their gently lessening shapes : 
 Nathless, the Sum of Things remains the same, 
 Untouched by change ; for ever-lessening bulk 
 Quits its old shape but to augment a new, 
 Compelling this to flourish, that to wane, 
 In one place settled never : thus the whole 
 Is evermore renew'd, while nought is lost. 
 Thus breathing things live on by mutual waste 
 And gain kept up ; this dies that that may live, 
 This race declines, that grows; quick shifts the scene : 
 Like runners in the Games, we yield our place 
 To next in turn, the vital torch transferred. 
 Should'st think that these atomic germs can rest, 
 And, resting, thus give rise to motions new, 
 Thou widely err'st; for, since through Space they 
 range,
 
 ON THE NATURE OF THINGS. 57 
 
 Most sure each atom must be borne along 
 
 By its own weight, or impetus of others : 
 
 What atoms with opposing motions meet 
 
 In diverse paths fly off, and further those 
 
 Most solid, for they no resistance meet 
 
 Of equal force. But clearly to conceive 
 
 This endless whirl of all material shapes, 
 
 Forget not, friend, that in the Universe 
 
 No lowest point exists, no resting place 
 
 For these all-wandering primeval germs. 
 
 Space knows not form nor bound, stretch'd forth 
 
 immense 
 
 T'wards every part alike ; as shown before 
 In long discussion, stor'd with ample proofs. 
 It follows that these atoms rest not, borne 
 For ever through th' unfathomable void 
 With varied ceaseless motion, such as meet 
 In altered course rebounding from the stroke. 
 Those which small space rebound, by distances 
 Minute removed, entangled into one 
 By closely-fitted shapes, form stony germs 
 And roots of iron ore things most compact : 
 While others, in their wanderings less confined, 
 Form subtle air, and the Sun's dazzling light.
 
 58 ON THE NATURE OF THINGS. 
 
 And other things there are that range though Space 
 
 Dismissed from Nature's workshop all unfit 
 
 With any form created to unite. 
 
 Of this, before our eyes an instance apt 
 
 Spontaneous offers on each sunny day. 
 
 For mark, from crevice small when daylight pours 
 
 Into a darksome vault, what endless maze 
 
 Thou see'st of atoms in th' injected beams, 
 
 Wheeling in mimic fight with endless whirl, 
 
 These singly, those in troops ; in discord all 
 
 Perpetual borne, without a moment's pause. 
 
 From these thou may'st conjecture what the germs 
 
 Of all things are, and how through Space they whirl. 
 
 Thus small things may give instances of great, 
 
 Thus traces faint may lead to Science' path. 
 
 To thoughts far deeper should thy mind be led 
 
 By this atomic dance in noon-tide rays, 
 
 These motions of things palpable to sight 
 
 Suggesting others underneath, unseen. 
 
 Mark'st not, how, struck aside by unseen blow, 
 
 Anon these little bodies change their route, 
 
 Anon fly back, in all directions urg'd ? 
 
 Of this eternal maze the latent spring 
 
 Lies in the first-born germs with motion fraught
 
 ON THE NATURE OF THINGS. 59 
 
 Spontaneous ; next to these, small bodies form'd 
 Of fewest particles, whose essences 
 Nearest approach the first, are hurried on 
 By stroke unseen of particles first born : 
 These, in their turn, impel the next in rank : 
 Thus motion, from its base ascending slow, 
 By measured steps mounts upwards to our sight, 
 Till to those forms it reaches which we see 
 In sunbeams dancing, by what force unknown. 
 
 Next, friend, from observations few we trace 
 How swiftly move these same primordial germs. 
 When first Aurora sheds her new-born light 
 O'er all the land, awakening into song 
 The fluttering warblers of the trackless woods, 
 Who needs be told, when o'er the mountain top 
 Sol rears his crest, with what impetuous speed 
 His winged beams shoot forth to fill the World ? 
 But not through empty Space they pass, compelled 
 To cleave their way through thin aerial waves, 
 Shorn of their speed in part ; again, complex 
 Into each other twin'd, not simple forms, 
 They mutual hindrance make ; thus from with out, 
 At once, and from within, their race is check'd :
 
 60 ON THE NATURE OF THINGS. 
 
 Whereas first atoms, simple in their shape, 
 And solid, borne through realms of empty void 
 Unchecked unhindered to their destin'd goal, 
 Must in their race outstrip Sol's tardy rays, 
 Through vaster regions hurried in what time 
 These slowly traverse this our little Sky ; 
 For ne'er by thinking soul can these first germs 
 Be stopp'd, nor have they power themselves to stay 
 Enquiring into laws by which they move. 
 
 There are who witless hold that Nature's course 
 Could not, without the agency of Gods, 
 Be modelled thus subservient to our wants, 
 Nor Seasons run their round, nor fruits spring forth ; 
 That not to chance we owe that joy Divine 
 That peoples the wide World, to countless Time 
 Prolonging man's frail race ; hence straight they feign 
 Gods authors of the World, and all therein : 
 Far wandering from the truth, with pain mis-spent. 
 For though I knew not what the germs of things 
 Are in their Nature, yet, from proofs drawn down 
 From Heaven itself, thick multiplied o'er Earth, 
 I dare affirm this same material World 
 Made by no Gods, and never made for us,
 
 ON THE NATURE OF THINGS. 6l 
 
 By evil all corrupt : of this anon. 
 Atomic motions now demand our thought. 
 
 This seems the most convenient place to show 
 That nothing, of its own peculiar force, 
 Can upwards move, and wander through the Skies. 
 Let not the forms of flame deceive thy sight, 
 Which upwards spring new-born, and upwards grow, 
 Nor upward-shooting trees, that to the Sky 
 Rear their fair fruit : for know that every weight 
 (And all things weight possess) must downwards tend : 
 Nor deem erroneous when thou see'st the flames 
 Leap to thy topmost roof, with forked tongue 
 Devouring all they meet, that of their will 
 They act not urged by any force below : 
 A kindred force they own to that which spouts 
 The purple stream on high from open'd vein. 
 See'st not how force of fluids presses up 
 Light corks and wood ? The more thine eager hand 
 Would press them down unwilling, yet the more 
 The elastic fluid, angry, shoots them up, 
 Forcing to light e'en more than half their bulk. 
 Yet doubt we not that through an empty Space 
 These bodies, of themselves, would downwards move.
 
 62 ON THE NATURE OF THINGS. 
 
 This instance mark'd, we judge how flames may rise, 
 By force beneath up-urged ; though by their weight, 
 (Such weight as flames possess) they downwards tend. 
 But mark how through the Heavens devious fly 
 Wide flakes of liquid flame, to right and left 
 Wheeling in rapid course : mark how to Earth 
 Fall shooting fiery globes : and how the Sun 
 Pours from the highest pinnacle of Heaven 
 His rays all-searching through the gilded fields, 
 With downward motion prone : and how the Clouds, 
 Surcharg'd with fiery wrath, encountering, pour 
 Their crackling vollies all across the Skies : 
 From all these signs, what judge we but that Fire 
 Seeks not to rise, but rather downwards tends ? 
 
 Next know, my friend, that every primal germ 
 Which falls through vacuum downwards, veers its 
 
 course 
 
 A little devious from the strict right line ; 
 The times and the degrees of change unknown, 
 Enough that thou may'st say it falls not straight. 
 For simple reason that, like dropping shower, 
 Without such small deflexion, every germ 
 Would to the boundless deep rush headlong down
 
 ON THE NATURE OF THINGS. 63 
 
 In parallel descent, no issue join'd : 
 
 Thus nought that is would ever have been formed. 
 
 Should any think that germs of heavier weight 
 Can fall on lighter from above, borne down 
 With greater speed, creating other shocks, 
 With novel generating motions fraught ; 
 He wanders far from Reason's simple path. 
 What things indeed through Air or Water fall, 
 With swiftness fall proportion'd to their weight, 
 For reason plain, that fluid's substance rare, 
 Resists not all things equally, cut through 
 With greatest ease by bodies most compact. 
 Whereas pure Void, indifferent alike 
 To weight or lightness, no resistance makes 
 To aught that through it, urg'd by Nature, falls. 
 Thus all things, of necessity, through void, 
 Of weights diverse, with equal speed descend. 
 Nor can the heavier atom from above 
 Fall on the light beneath, creating strokes 
 With novel generating motions fraught. 
 It follows that all bodies fall inclin'd, 
 But in degree minutest, lest we feign 
 Motions oblique, and that the fact refutes.
 
 64 ON THE NATURE OF THINGS. 
 
 For ample observation shows that weights 
 Descending cannot wander from their course, 
 Borne down before our eyes in line direct, 
 But this minute deflexion who shall trace ? 
 What mortal eye shall dare mark out the line ? 
 
 But lastly, ask we how, if motion all 
 Is in one chain unbroken, each new link 
 Form'd as the last, in order infinite, 
 If never the primordial germs of things, 
 Verging together, combinations form, 
 First interruptions of Fate's stern decrees, 
 Forbidding cause to follow cause, in round 
 Eternal : how to living things belongs 
 This will, all free to act, unforced by Fate, 
 Which leads us all where Pleasure shows the way ? 
 Our motions bend we not, unchain'd by Time, 
 By place uncircumscrib'd, where Fancy leads ? 
 'Tis certain each his own free will directs : 
 Hence Motion springs, through all the limbs diffused. 
 Mark how, the barrier loos'd, th' impetuous steed, 
 All panting for the strife, would instant rush, 
 But, for a moment cannot wherefore this ? 
 'Tis that short moment into action stirs
 
 ON THE NATURE OF THINGS. 65 
 
 Th' atomic troops within the frame, arrang'd 
 
 In order, to attend the will's commands. 
 
 You see that from the heart all Motion springs, 
 
 Set going by the mind's free will ; diffus'd 
 
 Thence through the frame, and every quivering limb. 
 
 Other the motions caused by forceful stroke 
 
 Our strength o'erpowering : then the unruly limbs 
 
 Move against orders urged by foreign force 
 
 Until the will deposed resumes its sway. 
 
 Thou markest how, though man may oft be borne 
 
 And hurried on precipitate by power 
 
 External 'gainst his will, yet deep within 
 
 His breast lies that which fights, if not prevails ? 
 
 Which in its turn redeems the impressed troops 
 
 From captive thrall, back to its post assign'd, 
 
 Each distant calls, and rules through every limb ? 
 
 Hence to seeds also we must needs assign 
 
 Besides both weight and casual strokes, a cause 
 
 Whence springs this power: for nought of nothing 
 
 comes. 
 
 For weight forbids that by these casual strokes 
 As 'twere by force external things be made : 
 But that a dire necessity within 
 The mind herself should over-rule her acts, 
 
 5
 
 66 ON THE NATURE OF THINGS. 
 
 This slight declension of atomic parts 
 Prevents, uncertain both in place and time. 
 
 Nor was the total mass e'er more compact, 
 Or e'er remov'd by greater intervals : 
 For, added nothing, nothing e'er falls off. 
 Wherefore what motion all these seeds of things 
 Primordial have, that had they in all time, 
 That will they have for ever : and what things 
 Rise into being now, such e'er will rise 
 In self-same mould renew'd, and wax in strength 
 To the degree assigned by Nature's law. 
 There is no force to change the sum of things. 
 There is no place within the Universe 
 To which stray matter can escape, or whence 
 Can burst a power unknown, to interrupt 
 The course of things, and new creations form. 
 
 Nor wonder, friend, that while the primal germs 
 For ever move, the whole should seem at rest, 
 Motions of each peculiar thing except. 
 Full many a fathom 'neath our senses ken, 
 Lies deep the nature of primordial things. 
 Then how would'st trace the motions infinite
 
 ON THE NATURE OF THINGS. 67 
 
 Of things themselves not palpable to sight ? 
 
 E'en things thou seest oft move unknown to thee, 
 
 By Space to distances obscure removed. 
 
 Mark well yon fleecy flock, that o'er the hill 
 
 For pasture ranges wild, as each invites 
 
 Herbage most green with freshest dew-drops gemmed, 
 
 While frisk the well-fed lambkins o'er the turf. 
 
 Now shift the scene to far ; thou seest a speck 
 
 Of white on the green hill side, nothing more. 
 
 Again, when mighty legions fill the plain, 
 
 Marching in pomp of war ; their burnish'd arms 
 
 Flashing to Heaven, while the earth around 
 
 Glitters all brazen, and the tramp of feet 
 
 And mighty roar of men is borne aloft 
 
 To mountain tops, thence echoed to the stars, 
 
 And wheeling hither thither o'er the plain 
 
 Swift horsemen shake the ground with thundering 
 
 hoof. 
 
 And yet there is a spot on yon blue height, 
 Whence all this turmoil seems at rest, beheld 
 A glittering speck on the extended plain. 
 
 Explore we now what are the first-born germs 
 Of all things made, and how diverse in form,
 
 68 ON THE NATURE OF THINGS. 
 
 Scatter'd through Space in varied shapes profuse : 
 
 Tis not that many differ, but the rule 
 
 Is difference, not sameness ; nor does this 
 
 Aught wond'rous seem, their numbers such that end 
 
 And sum they know not, as already shown. 
 
 Strange, rather, should such countless myriads all 
 
 Of texture like consist, and form the same. 
 
 Of man's proud race, of all the scaly tribes 
 Mute tenants of the deep, of bleating flocks, 
 Of ravenous prowlers of the woods, of birds 
 That sing in pleasant places by still lakes 
 Or rivers, or sweet gushing springs, and those 
 That haunt the lone recesses of deep woods, 
 Of all these infinite take one, and where 
 It follow shalt thou find in all things match'd ? 
 This difference 'tis whereby the mother knows 
 Her babe, the babe its mother : nor with sense 
 Less nice than human knows the dam her young. 
 
 Lo by the altar's side, in column'd court 
 Of yon proud Fane, where curls the perfumed smoke, 
 The dying calf spurts forth the purple tide. 
 Him seeks his dam bereaved o'er the green lawns
 
 ON THE NATURE OF THINGS. 69 
 
 Tracing the cleft marks of the well known hoofs, 
 And searching all around with wistful eyes 
 For her lost loved one, while the leafy grove 
 She fills with plaintive moans, returning oft 
 In lingering hope to the accustomed stalls. 
 Her nor green herbs delight with dew-drops deck'd, 
 Nor willows waving o'er the brimming stream, 
 One image only fills her absent thoughts, 
 Nor through the pasture gay can one be found 
 Her cares to soothe, her lost hope to replace : 
 So yearns her heart for one, and that her own. 
 E'en so, with plaintive voice, the little kids 
 Seek each its horned dam, the sportive lambs 
 Their well-known ewes; thus, urg'd by natural 
 
 laws, 
 
 Each draws its food from the congenial spring. 
 And last, nor ears of corn, when view'd minute, 
 Thou find'st resembling each in every part : 
 Nor shells that paint Earth's bosom when the Sea 
 Waters with rippling waves the thirsty sand. 
 And so throughout wide Nature : hence, most sure, 
 Th' essential germs, to no one pattern made 
 By artificial hand, all freely range, 
 In varied forms, throughout the realms of Space.
 
 70 ON THE NATURE OF THINGS. 
 
 Hence may we solve the question why that Fire 
 Offspring of Thunder, should far deeper pierce 
 Than our dull flames, of earthly torches born. 
 Of subtler essence is that Heaven-born fire, 
 Of finer particles composed that pierce 
 Through openings which our grosser flames impede. 
 Again, through horny substance daylight shines, 
 From which rebounds the shower : and why ? but that 
 More gross the parts of Water than of Light. 
 Quick through the strainer glides the trickling wine, 
 That oil more slow retards : for oil consists 
 Of grosser elemental particles, 
 More closely hook'd together, more entwined ; 
 So from its neighbour each primordial seed 
 More slowly disunited, finds its way 
 With painful course through its peculiar pore. 
 Hence comes it that with pleasing taste the tongue 
 Imbibes soft milk and honey : while sharp rue 
 And wormwood writhe the countenance with pain. 
 Hence to thy mind 'tis clear, of atoms round 
 And smooth created things that please our sense : 
 While of more crooked particles composed 
 Those we call sharp and bitter, with rude force 
 Tearing the film o'er our senses spread.
 
 ON THE NATURE OF THINGS-. 71 
 
 All things, to sum our argument, that please 
 Or wound the sense, of differing germs are made : 
 Nor deem the horrors of the grating saw 
 Of things composed as smooth as those sweet sounds 
 Awak'd by cunning fingers on the lyre : 
 Nor that the rotting carcase to our smell 
 Sends particles of form the same as those 
 That from Silician saffron scattered rise, 
 Or altars with Panchaean incense spread. 
 Nor deem of seeds the same rich colours made, 
 That feast th' enraptur'd eye, and those foul 
 
 forms, 
 
 And combinations hideous, that wound 
 The injured sight, and force th' unwilling tears. 
 This know, that nothing can delight the sense 
 But by some smoothness of its primal germs : 
 Nor less that each thing harshest and most rude, 
 To atoms rough its form repulsive owes. 
 
 Yet things there are that can be held nor smooth 
 Nor altogether hook'd, with points close twin'd, 
 But shaped in angles rather, on all sides 
 Outjutting, that more teaze than hurt the sense : 
 Such acid pickles made from dregs of wine.
 
 72 ON THE NATURE OF THINGS. 
 
 And last, our touch proclaims that fiery heat 
 And pinching wint'ry frost, extremes diverse, 
 Both bite severe, though armed with different fangs. 
 
 Touch is the sense of senses O, ye Gods ! 
 In every part diffused, alike acute 
 To that which enters from without, and that 
 Which, inborn, issuing forth, gives pain or joy : 
 Nor less to atoms in the frame, uprous'd 
 To strife intestine by external stroke : 
 Dost doubt ? Then strike with bended fist where'er 
 Thy fancy wills, th' effect thou straight shalt prove. 
 Hence, then, the same conclusion ; that what things 
 Cause different sense, of differing germs consist. 
 
 To sum our case, those things most hard and dense 
 Of germs must needs be form'd most intertwin'd, 
 Held, as it were, compact by woven boughs. 
 First in the ranks comes adamant, unhurt 
 By puny blows contemn'd, and hardy flints : 
 Stern iron's ruthless strength, and solid brass, 
 Whose grating staples hold the ponderous bolts. 
 But things of fluid or of liquid bulk 
 Of particles more round and smooth consist ; 
 Soft trickling down, impeded by no parts
 
 ON THE NATURE OF THINGS. 73 
 
 In their primordial texture intertwin'd. 
 And last, what things thou see'st disperse in Air, 
 As smoke, and mist, and flames consist of parts, 
 If not all smooth and round, yet not held fast 
 By close entanglement : but free to pierce 
 The human frame and looser substances, 
 Without cohesion in themselves, because 
 Of pointed atoms made not intertwined. 
 
 Nor wond'rous let it seem, if some few things 
 Be pungent both, and fluid, as the brine 
 Of the salt Ocean : for though fluids all 
 Of parts both round and smooth consist, combin'd, 
 When pungent as the Sea, with painful parts, 
 Yet not of strict necessity entwin'd 
 With hooked points these painful germs, globose 
 Perchance, and flowing with the others free 
 In motion fraught with evil to the sense. 
 To prove that bitterness of Neptune's tide 
 Is caused by mixture of the smooth and rough, 
 Behold a test appealing to thy sense. 
 View where the briny Sea, distill'd through Earth 
 Or porous sand, drops sweet into the bed 
 Of yonder pool ; its particles saline 
 Entrapp'd in meshes of the filtering bank.
 
 74 ON THE NATURE OF THINGS. 
 
 This prov'd, next come we to an inference 
 That rises straight from demonstrations past. 
 'Tis this : that all variety of shapes 
 Of primal things is finite ; for, if not, 
 Would some first things be infinite in bulk. 
 The size minute of first atomic germs 
 Admit not great variety of change : 
 Assume three forms, or even more, yet more, 
 These twist to right and left, turn up or down, 
 Transpose in every mode their shape admits ; 
 At last it comes to this if farther change 
 Thou would'st, 'tis needful to combine more 
 
 parts ; 
 
 Of these the combinations all used up, 
 Yet more thou fain must ask, if yet thou would'st 
 More shapes : thus follows novelty of form 
 Increase of bulk ; nor can'st thou infinite 
 Maintain the shapes of seeds lest forc'd to own 
 Existing some of magnitude immense, 
 Which I have shown impossible before. 
 
 Why then barbarian tunics, and the gloss 
 Of Melibcean purple rich distill'd 
 From shells Thessalian, and the gorgeous hues 
 That flash and sparkle from the peacock's tail
 
 ON THE NATURE OF THINGS. 75 
 
 Would all unheeded lie, surpassed by tint 
 
 More gorgeous still : despised would be the scent 
 
 Of myrrh, sweet honey's taste, the dulcet notes 
 
 Of dying swan, e'en the most cunning strains 
 
 By Phoebus' self awaken'd on the lyre, 
 
 Would for like cause seem dead and vapid all : 
 
 For something new would still superior rise. 
 
 Nor less from bad to worse would all things tend ; 
 
 No worst in Nature more than best : thus each 
 
 Offensive thing, to taste, or sight, or smell, 
 
 Could not be most offensive ; still some worse. 
 
 But 'tis not so ; for both extremes finite 
 
 Exist of things that wound the sense or please ; 
 
 Hence, also, finite the primordial shapes. 
 
 And lastly, trace the track from heat to cold ; 
 Thou com'st to ice, and can'st no further go, 
 So back again to fire ; 'twixt ice and fire 
 Degrees lie various to fill up the scale. 
 Not infinite the range of heat and cold, 
 But by strict limits guarded : fire and frost 
 Stand sentinel at either extreme bound. 
 This prov'd, next come we to an inference 
 That, following closely join'd, must win our faith :
 
 76 ON THE NATURE OF THINGS. 
 
 Tis this : that all first germs, of shape the same, 
 
 Are infinite ; for since the shapes themselves 
 
 Are finite, were the germs of every shape 
 
 In number finite also, then the whole 
 
 Were finite; which I have before disprov'd, 
 
 When I set forth the motions infinite, 
 
 With ever renovating power fraught 
 
 Of primal germs, from th' eternal past 
 
 In endless chain brought down, which numberless, 
 
 Have fill'd, and fill th' Immensity of Space. 
 
 Though certain animals more rare appear, 
 And Nature seems less fruitful of their kind, 
 It may be that in other distant lands 
 And climes more genial she fills up the tale. 
 Thus elephants, snake-handed, first of beasts, 
 With ivory rampart fence the realms of Ind, 
 On every side impervious, such their host, 
 Though known to us by specimens but rare. 
 But should I this concede, that one sole form 
 May in the Universe unique consist, 
 To other living thing unlike : how then ? 
 If not unbounded the material germs 
 Conceiving and producing, never then
 
 ON THE NATURE OF THINGS. 77 
 
 This monstrous form had been created, never, 
 Created, could it have increased and lived. 
 Should I this too concede that primal germs 
 Finite of some one thing may float through Space : 
 Where, when, how fbrc'd, by what design, should such 
 Materials, floating on the boundless sea 
 Of heterogeneous things combine in one ? 
 I know no means by which they can combine : 
 But as the angry Ocean scatters wide, 
 In wrath aroused, masts, benches, rudders, oars, 
 And prows and gilded poops, on devious waves 
 Promiscuous borne to many a distant shore, 
 To warn rash mortals of the tempting deep 
 That woos them to their fate, by signs foreshown 
 Of treachery and violence hid beneath 
 The smiles insidious of the wanton sea : 
 So finite should'st thou hold of any things 
 The germs primordial, them through endless Space 
 Would scatter, hither, thither, the wide waves 
 Of the material ocean infinite ; 
 Forbidding that they join combin'd by plan, 
 Or, once conjoin'd, remain, or grow in bulk. 
 Thus nought would have been made, or, made, have 
 grown.
 
 78 ON THE NATURE OF THINGS. 
 
 'Tis proved that infinite of every kind 
 Are primal germs from whence all things proceed. 
 
 Nor can destructive motions for all time 
 Prevail, all life entombing evermore, 
 Nor motions making and preserving keep 
 Created things for ever : rages thus 
 Of principles antagonist the war 
 From infinite begun, with dubious strife. 
 Now here, now there, the vital powers prevail, 
 Sometimes o'ermastered : with funereal dirge 
 Are blended puny cries of new-born babes : 
 Nor follows day one night, nor night one dawn, 
 That hears not, mingled with infantine wails 
 The shrieks of woe attendants of the tomb. 
 
 Moreover, on these thoughts intent, know this, 
 And known, deep grave within thy mind, that 
 
 naught 
 
 By Nature to our senses shown, is made 
 Of but one sort of primal particles, 
 But all of mingled seeds ; of forces those 
 And attributes most varied, of most parts, 
 In nature differing, as in form unlike.
 
 ON THE NATURE OF THINGS. 79 
 
 And first, within her womb those essences 
 Contains the teeming Earth whence rise cool springs, 
 That, rolling on in rivers e'er renew 
 Th' immeasurable Ocean ; whence quick fires, 
 Tfyese scorching the parch'd ground beneath, while 
 
 those 
 
 Impetuous blaze from ^Etna's fiery throat. 
 And yet another fount she holds, whence spring 
 Rich crops and joyous trees that nourish man, 
 And glad his senses ; nor with bounty less 
 Sheds she glad pastures, leaves, and brooks to feed 
 The untam'd mountain herds ; hence mother nam'd 
 Of Gods and men alike, and bestial tribes. 
 Her sung the learned bards of classic Greece 
 Two lions curbing on her car sublime, 
 Teaching that this our world hangs pois'd in Air, 
 Nor (notion vain) that Earth on Earth can rest. 
 The yoked lions told that cubs most fierce 
 May yet be softened by parental care. 
 A mural crown adorn'd her lofty brow, 
 For that proud cities she protects with towers ; 
 Thus crown'd, e'en now in awful state revered, 
 Is borne our mother's idol through the world. 
 Her nations various, after ancient forms,
 
 80 ON THE NATURE OF THINGS. 
 
 Idaean mother call, while Phrygian troops 
 
 With dance and song surround her stately car : 
 
 Because (so says the tale) in Phrygia first 
 
 Sprang fruits, thence wide diffused throughout the 
 
 world. 
 
 And Eunuch Priests they give her ; symbols these 
 That all untouch'd by filial piety 
 To their first parent, or to those ingrate 
 From whom their fount of life immediate sprang, 
 Themselves unworthy to produce to light 
 Aught living progeny : with frequent hands 
 They beat the hollow cymbals, the loud drums 
 Resound, and brays the hoarse harsh threatening horn, 
 While stir up to the dance shrill Phrygian pipes : 
 And spears they brandish emblems of fierce rage 
 To fright the rabble's unbelieving heart, 
 And soul ingrate, with dire religious awe. 
 Her hail mankind, as, through proud cities borne, 
 She rides triumphant, scattering gifts around, 
 Though mute, benign : with brass profuse they pave, 
 And silver strewn, the ways ; thick o'er the crowd 
 Of nymphs attendant rains the roseate shower ; 
 Around her troop a band, surnamed by Greeks 
 Curetes Phrygian, for they dance full arm'd
 
 ON THE NATURE OF THINGS. 8l 
 
 Dripping with blood, and wave their frightful crests 
 With gestures furious to the maddening strains, 
 Like those Curetes old, Dictaeans named, 
 Who erst in Crete with martial music drown'd 
 The cries of infant Jove. With nimble foot 
 Around him danc'd a choir of youths full arm'd, 
 Their shields quick clashing to the measur'd tune, 
 Lest ruthless Saturn should devour the babe, 
 And pierce with cureless wound the mother's heart. 
 Hence follows arm'd the troop, or arm'd, perchance, 
 To typify the Goddess' high behest, 
 That all with valour and with arms the State 
 Defend, and guard their parent's hoary head. 
 
 'Tis well: such glittering shows may please the 
 
 sense, 
 
 But Reason shocked from that vain crowd retires. 
 Most sure the Nature of the Gods enjoys 
 Within itself Immortal Life, in peace 
 Profound, from human cares far, far remote ; 
 Sublimely passionless, and in itself 
 For all things all-sufficient, pain and fear 
 It knows not, nor requires it ought of us, 
 Nor pleased by virtue, nor provoked by crime. 
 
 6
 
 82 ON THE NATURE OF THINGS. 
 
 There are who call the Sea by Neptune's name, 
 And crops by name of Ceres : who prefer 
 To miscall " Bacchus " what is rightly wine. 
 Grant we to such if so their fancy wills 
 That they call Earth the Mother of the Gods, 
 So that in sober earnest they forbear 
 With foul religion to pollute the mind. 
 
 But to resume our argument : mark well, 
 In the same pasture both the fleecy flocks 
 And the young war-horse reared, and lowing herds, 
 All 'neath the same wide canopy of Heaven, 
 Their thirst all slaking from the self-same stream ; 
 Yet each its form generic holding, each 
 Its sire's propensities ; such various germs, 
 With various natures sympathetic, live 
 In every kind of grass, in every stream. 
 Yet more : combined in every living form 
 Dwell bones and muscles, blood, veins, bowels, 
 
 heat 
 
 And moisture : properties far differing, all 
 Of divers elemental parts composed. 
 Again, the blazing pile shows hidden seeds 
 Of flame, if of nought else, within itself
 
 ON THE NATURE OF THINGS. 83 
 
 Conceal'd till call'd to light, then bursting forth 
 In crackling sparks, and ashes widely strewn. 
 
 All nature analyzing thus thou find'st 
 That every body holds of many things 
 The latent seeds, these seeds of various forms. 
 
 And, lastly, things thou see'st endued with 
 
 scent, 
 
 And taste, and colour, all at once, these parts 
 Each made of its own germs : thus penetrates 
 The scent where colour enters not, while taste 
 Affects our senses in a different way : 
 Hence of each different the primal germs. 
 Thus forms unlike into one compact whole 
 Combine, and things of mingled seeds consist. 
 
 Again, in this our verse, to many a word 
 Full many a common element thou see'st ; 
 Yet words and verses own'st thou different, each 
 Of different Elements made up : 'tis not 
 That many a letter is not common, or 
 No different words of self-same letters made ; 
 But that, as wholes, the words are different : 
 
 6*
 
 84 ON THE NATURE OF THINGS. 
 
 And so in other things, though common all 
 Or most composing germs, unlike the sum. 
 For simple, into complex form'd, acquire 
 New essences : thus may'st thou call man's race, 
 And fruit, and shrubs, of different germs composed. 
 Yet dream not that all germs may join with all 
 Promiscuous : to thy sight what portents dire 
 Would rise ! half bestial forms, half stately man ! 
 From human trunks upreared high-towering boughs, 
 Terrestrial limbs joined on to fins and scales, 
 And hideous-jawed Chimaeras breathing flames 
 By Nature reared on all-producing Earth. 
 Yet nothing monstrous view we ; by fixed laws 
 Of atoms fixed since things are made, and made 
 With power endued their race begun to keep. 
 Those laws of stern necessity unchanged : 
 For of all food that enters in, the germs 
 In various ways diverge, each seeking those 
 Congenial, which, straight found, combining, raise 
 Th' appropriate motions : other alien germs 
 Repulsive Nature casts to earth, or forced 
 Through every pore minute emits unseen, 
 Unapt to join with any, all uncouth 
 To whirl harmonious in the vital dance.
 
 ON THE NATURE OF THINGS. 85 
 
 Nor deem these laws to sentient things alone 
 
 Confin'd throughout all Nature wide diffus'd : 
 
 For, of necessity, each differing form 
 
 Is made of primal germs of different shapes. 
 
 'Tis not that many are not similar ; 
 
 But false that all resemble all : again, 
 
 As the seeds differ, different intervals 
 
 Must separate the parts, and different strokes 
 
 Connecting or disjoining rise, and weights 
 
 And motions ; thus not animals alone 
 
 Distinct in form creating, but the Sea 
 
 From Earth dividing, from the Sea the Sky. 
 
 Now listen to my song, with labour sweet 
 That gathers honied truths from things observ'd. 
 Nor deem, untaught, of white primordial seeds 
 White things created : nor of black, things black : 
 Nor that aught seen, of any colour, owes 
 Its hue to that of its essential germs. 
 The primal parts of Matter colourless 
 Exist, nor like, nor unlike, objects seen. 
 But hold'st thou to the mind impalpable 
 These hueless germs ? Thou widely err'st from 
 Truth.
 
 86 ON THE NATURE OF THINGS. 
 
 Conceives not in his mind the man born blind 
 
 The ideas of bodies touch'd, from infancy 
 
 With colour unassociated ? hence 
 
 Conceive how may be imaged to our mind 
 
 The forms of hueless things : e'en in the dark, 
 
 Things without colour by the touch we know. 
 
 Such may be, then ; now prove we that it must. 
 
 Though every colour changes, yet the germs 
 
 Primaeval change not ever ; for, were naught 
 
 Immutable, all things would come to naught : 
 
 When anything diverges from its bounds, 
 
 Follows the death of that it was before : 
 
 Have care, then, how thou paint'st the germs of 
 
 things, 
 
 Lest thy fell brush annihilate the World. 
 But if all colourless the germs of things, 
 By varied forms producing various hues, 
 As each with each, by chance position join'd, 
 Receives or gives impressions ; simple then 
 The cause whence that which was this moment black 
 Marmoreal whiteness takes, abruptly chang'd: 
 As when the Sea, by angry winds uprous'd, 
 Changes its green wave to white fleecy foam ; 
 For then would'st say that what we see most dark,
 
 ON THE NATURE OF THINGS. 87 
 
 Its primal particles uprous'd, their ranks 
 Confused, perchance some lost, or added some, 
 By metamorphose sudden white becomes. 
 Of germs cerulean were the Sea made up 
 Its waves could never whiten ; stir them up 
 Howe'er thou would'st, the blue must blue remain. 
 But were those primal germs of various hues, 
 Which mix'd make up the whiteness of the foam, 
 As different forms and parts with judgment mix'd 
 May make a simple square, and as, in squares 
 So form'd, the parts component we may see, 
 So in the Sea's pure white we should perceive 
 The different hues that, mixed, make up the whole. 
 Moreover," nothing hinders but that forms 
 Diverse should join one simple to create; 
 But diverse colours cannot by like rules 
 Be join'd, nor forced, in parts, to make an whole. 
 
 E'en could they be, yet still the proof remains 
 That seeds are colourless : since of white germs 
 Things white are not composed, nor black of black, 
 But each of varied seeds : and white things spring 
 More readily from nothing than from black, 
 Or any other contradicting hue.
 
 88 ON THE NATURE OF THINGS. 
 
 Again, since without light hues cannot live, 
 
 Nor palpable to light are primal germs, 
 
 'Tis obvious primal germs no colour know. 
 
 In total darkness, what can colour be ? 
 
 Existence fickle, that in very light 
 
 For ever varies, as by rays oblique 
 
 Or straight impressed. The soft and changeful 
 down 
 
 That clothes the dove's sleek throat and burnished 
 crest 
 
 Now flashes in the Sun with ruddy glow 
 
 Of bright pyropus, while anon it seems 
 
 To mingle emerald's green with coral red. 
 
 E'en so the peacock's tail in midday light 
 Changes its colours as it meets the Sun. 
 Such colours, then, by certain unknown force 
 Of light produced, without light ne'er had been. 
 Again, some certain stroke our eye receives 
 When, in our phrase, it sees an object white ; 
 When black another, so the same throughout. 
 And by the touch we objects recognize 
 As figured, not as tinted : thus 'tis clear 
 No hues are needed to primordial germs, 
 By varied shapes producing varied strokes.
 
 ON THE NATURE OF THINGS. 89 
 
 Yet more, since not by certain shapes confin'd 
 
 Is colour in its nature, and since all 
 
 Primordial forms may be of every hue, 
 
 Why not things form'd of germs, as germs themselves, 
 
 Of every colour intermixed made up ? 
 
 Thus, on white wings might fly the sombre crow, 
 
 And swans in mourning swim, with any hue 
 
 Or hues endow'd, by blindest chance combin'd. 
 
 Again, by how much into parts minute 
 
 Is subdivided anything, so much 
 
 Its colour loses it by slow degrees : 
 
 Behold a piece of purple torn to shreds 
 
 The filaments, combined of richest hue, 
 
 Dispersed, their colour lose : from this 'tis shown 
 
 That particles of all things lose their hues 
 
 Before they vanish to primordial seeds. 
 
 And, lastly, since thou own'st that sound and smell 
 All bodies sent not forth, and thus to some 
 These properties deniest : since, again, 
 That we see all things is not prov'd : confess 
 That some things without colour are, as some 
 Inodorous and mute, nor these than those 
 Grasped with less ease by the sagacious mind.
 
 9O ON THE NATURE OF THINGS. 
 
 But not of colour only are bereft 
 
 Primaeval bodies, but of warmth and cold, 
 
 And heated moisture ; sterile of all sound, 
 
 By juice unmoisten'd, with no odour fraught. 
 
 Thus who would balmy liquid make of myrrh 
 
 Or flower of spikenard, or sweet marjoram, 
 
 Nectarean odour breathing, he must mix 
 
 The spicy elements with olive oil 
 
 Inodorous, lest the vehicle that holds 
 
 Dissolv'd these scents should mar the rich compound. 
 
 So seeds, main substance of created things, 
 
 Cannot impart to bodies, of themselves, 
 
 Or smell, or sound, or savour, or moist heat : 
 
 For changeable are all these properties, 
 
 And all the bodies that possess them die, 
 
 Or soft, or hard, or dense, obnoxious all 
 
 To putrefaction and mortality. 
 
 These, then, from seeds thou fain must separate, 
 
 If to the Sum of Things a principle 
 
 Thou giv'st immortal and unchangeable : 
 
 If not, to nothing all would straight return. 
 
 Now, further, strict necessity compels 
 That we hold all things sentient produced
 
 ON THE NATURE OF THINGS. QI 
 
 Of germs insensible : nor well known facts 
 
 This theory refute, or e'en oppose, 
 
 But rather, rightly view'd, to the belief 
 
 Lead on by gentle steps that, as I say, 
 
 Of things insensate sentient things are form'd. 
 
 Thou see'st in filth bred living worms, when Earth, 
 
 With wet unseasonable decomposed, 
 
 Grows putrid : all things in a round thou see'st 
 
 Of change perpetual, pleasant pastures, leaves 
 
 And rivers into cattle changed, and changed 
 
 Cattle to man : while we again in turn 
 
 Contribute to invigorate the frames 
 
 Of beasts, or pass into the plumes of birds. 
 
 Thus into living bodies every food 
 
 Enchantress Nature changes, and compounds 
 
 Of animals the senses : with like skill, 
 
 Though greater, as when into flames she blows 
 
 Like crackling wood, and changes all to fire. 
 
 Now see'st thou how important 'tis to know 
 
 The order in which primal germs are placed 
 
 And how commixed they motions give and take ? 
 
 Why, then ? How, then ? What is it that thy mind 
 
 Perplexes ? Whence that deep repugnance felt 
 
 To own things sentient of insensate born ?
 
 92 ON THE NATURE OF THINGS. 
 
 Most true, nor stone, nor wood, nor earth, mix'd up, 
 
 Can vital sense impart : remember that 
 
 I say not sense can be produced straight forth 
 
 From every combination of first germs : 
 
 But that the secret spell that calls up sense 
 
 Lies in the numbers and the combinations, 
 
 Figures and motions, of the primal parts. 
 
 All these in wood exist not, nor in clay, 
 
 And yet e'en these, when putrified by wet, 
 
 With maggots teem : because, the order chang'd 
 
 And decomposed of their primaeval parts, 
 
 These newly mixed the living power acquire. 
 
 But those that hold things sensible made up 
 Of sentient germs, these germs, then, soft must hold 
 For every sense is closely join'd with nerves, 
 And veins, and bowels, all in body soft 
 United, and obnoxious all to death. 
 But feign them all eternal : be it so : 
 Then they possess each of some part the sense, 
 Or each, as the whole sentient thing, must feel. 
 But, of themselves, the parts can never feel, 
 For each demands the fellowship of all : 
 The hand lopp'd off is dead to every sense,
 
 ON THE NATURE OF THINGS. Q3 
 
 And so, without the body, every part. 
 
 It only then remains that every germ 
 
 Be liken'd to a total animal, 
 
 That feels throughout the vital sense : but how 
 
 Can every germ be called a primal part, 
 
 By death untouch'd, if germs are animals, 
 
 And animals and mortals are the same ? 
 
 But, were it so, then naught could they create 
 
 But motley crowds of living things : no more 
 
 Than men, wild beasts and cattle could create 
 
 Aught new by any kind of intercourse. 
 
 But if, transform'd, they lose their proper sense, 
 
 And take another, wherefore give them that 
 
 Which straight thou tak'st away ? All facts compel 
 
 That to our first conclusion we return : 
 
 Both eggs of birds to chickens chang'd, and worms 
 
 Upspringing from the wet and sodden Earth, 
 
 Proclaim things sentient of insensate born. 
 
 Should any hold that sentient from inert 
 Can only spring from some anterior change 
 Of parts, a separate birth in each before 
 Their combination : to refute them this 
 Suffices, clearly shown, that never birth
 
 94 ON THE NATURE OF THINGS. 
 
 Can spring but from the juncture of first parts : 
 
 Nor without combinations different 
 
 Can any change arise : of nought that lives 
 
 Exists the sense before combined the parts 
 
 That make the nature of the animal, 
 
 Scattered in sooth before through Air, and Earth, 
 
 And Water, in confusion infinite, 
 
 As yet unmix'd together, unendued 
 
 With vital motion, whence our senses flow. 
 
 Again, a heavier stroke than Nature bears 
 Makes sudden havoc, and the sentient parts 
 Of mind and body in confusion throws ; 
 The organized position of the parts 
 All broken up, and stopp'd the vital pulse : 
 Then all the stuff of which our life is made, 
 Shaken and jumbled through each limb, unties 
 The vital knot wherein the soul consists, 
 And forces out our life through every pore. 
 Now what more power can a blow possess 
 Than to dissolve or shake things placed in form ? 
 Not seldom see we, after stroke less strong, 
 Life's scatter'd forces rally and prevail ; 
 Th' uproused sedition quelling, and each part
 
 ON THE NATURE OF THINGS. 95 
 
 Rebellious back recalling to its ranks : 
 Life in the body then, o'er Death's short sway 
 Prevailing, kindles each extinguish'd sense. 
 What power but this could the departing germs 
 Of Life force backward from the gates of Death, 
 His portals closing till the appointed time ? 
 Again, since pain arises when the germs 
 Throughout the body are disturb'd and shook, 
 In limb, or vein, or nerve ; but back restored 
 To order, pleasure straight succeeds to grief: 
 From this we know these same primordial germs 
 Insensible to pleasure in themselves, 
 Nor less to pain : for they are of no parts 
 Which mov'd, disturb'd, or disarrang'd, can e'er 
 Affect them sensibly, nor pleasure give 
 By any combination pleasurable : 
 Hence without sense are all primordial germs. 
 
 Last, if each sense which to each living thing 
 Belongs is to be given to their germs 
 What ? of what germs, then, is man's nature made ? 
 That now with laughter shakes, now changeful pours 
 Griefs tearful stream adown the moisten'd cheeks : 
 That has the power withal to search the springs
 
 96 ON THE NATURE OF THINGS. 
 
 Of Nature, and its own component seeds. 
 
 Since, then, these germs are like whole animals, 
 
 They must themselves of different parts consist ; 
 
 These parts of others, nor can'st ever stop : 
 
 Thus when thou speak'st, or laugh'st, or think'st 
 
 profound, 
 
 By speaking, laughing, thinking germs thou act'st. 
 But should all this appear absurd and vain, 
 Should a man laugh not made of laughing germs, 
 And think profound, and clothe his thoughts in words, 
 By no germs aided wise or eloquent : 
 Why, then, should bodies sentient not be made 
 Of primal germs, themselves insensate all ? 
 
 Again, we all from seed Celestial spring 
 Our Father in the Heavens whence fair Earth 
 Imbibing gentle moisture, pregnant grows, 
 And, in their season, brings forth goodly fruits, 
 And trees, and every beast, and sovereign man ; 
 With food congenial all her helpless young 
 Supplying bounteous, that each blithe may live 
 Its little life, and propagate its kind : 
 Whence has she justly earn'd the mother's name. 
 But that which came from Earth to Earth returns ;
 
 ON THE NATURE OF THINGS. 97 
 
 While all from Heaven distill'd, to Heaven again 
 
 Upwafted, the Celestial temples hold. 
 
 'Tis not that Death can the component parts 
 
 Of things destroy, but their arrangement change ; 
 
 Things joining strange before, and causing that 
 
 All bodies change their forms, their colours blend, 
 
 And senses take, and in fit time return. 
 
 Hence may'st thou see how the same primal germs, 
 
 Newly combined and placed, and motions new 
 
 Receiving both and giving, may create 
 
 Unnumber'd forms, in moulds unnumber'd cast. 
 
 Nor not eternal deem the atomic germs, 
 Because seen idly floating on the top 
 Of things material, born and straight dissolv'd. 
 In this our verse what vast effects arise 
 From words and letters variously combined ! 
 The germs poetic, in most part the same 
 Their order changed unnumbered meanings give. 
 Analogy straight leads us to conceive 
 How, in things also, of the primal germs 
 The combinations, motions, distances, 
 Strokes, weights, concussions, and rebounds, and shapes 
 And order changed, results wide differing rise. 
 
 7
 
 gS ON THE NATURE OF THINGS. 
 
 Now lend thy soul to Reason's truthful voice, 
 For shall thine ear a novel sound invade, 
 A novel sight thy mental eye shall pierce. 
 Nothing so simple that, when offered first 
 To the perception, is not hard of faith : 
 Nothing so great or wondrous but, in time 
 Familiar grown, our wonder dies away. 
 Take, for example, the pure azure vault 
 Studded with wandering Stars, the Moon's soft light, 
 And the more dazzling splendour of the Sun. 
 Conceive this glorious vision fresh revealed 
 Unknown, unlocked for, to the sight of man : 
 What could there be more wondrous ? what, if told 
 By prophets, would the nations less believe ? 
 Nothing, I ween ; so marvellous 'twould appear ! 
 And yet scarce one, of sights familiar tired, 
 Deigns to gaze upward to the glorious vault. 
 Cease, then, by simple novelty alarm'd, 
 To spurn with loathing reason from thy mind : 
 But weigh my words with jealous care : if true, 
 Give me thy hand : if false, be then my foe. 
 
 Since infinite the realms that lie beyond 
 The walls of this our world, we yearn to know
 
 ON THE NATURE OF THINGS. 99 
 
 What dwells within those realms : the winged soul 
 
 Free soaring through all space would fain explore 
 
 The secrets of the vast and boundless deep. 
 
 For first, on every side, above, beneath, 
 
 There is no end, as I- have shown before, 
 
 Self-evident in truth, and from the essence 
 
 Inseparable of Infinity. 
 
 How, then, through such illimitable Space 
 
 Deem we innumerable atoms borne, 
 
 With every motion, through Eternal Time, 
 
 Potent to form but this our Earth and Sky ? 
 
 While all not used up here inertly roam 
 
 Through barren Space ? Why this our World is made, 
 
 By concourse all fortuitous, unplann'd, 
 
 Of bodies knock'd together, now in vain, 
 
 Now with concussion fortunate, till met 
 
 At last things apt in generating form, 
 
 Rise Earth, and Sea, and Sky, and sentient tribes. 
 
 Hence must we needs confess, in other parts, 
 
 Other conjunctions of material things, 
 
 Like this our World, throughout wide Ether spread. 
 
 In sooth, with all the implements prepared' 
 The place at hand, and no impeding cause,
 
 100 ON THE NATURE OF THINGS. 
 
 Things needs must of necessity be made. 
 
 Of germs such is the number that all life 
 
 Would not suffice to count them : and their force 
 
 And nature is unchangeable, all Space 
 
 With the same motions filling as our World. 
 
 Hence own that other Worlds exist in Space, 
 
 And other Men, and other Brutal Tribes. 
 
 Yet more, since of created things we see 
 Nothing unique, sole sample of its mould, 
 But each belonging to a class, and like 
 A thousand others ; this in mountain beasts 
 Observed alike, and men, and those mute tribes 
 That fill the deep, and birds that cleave the sky ; 
 Hence, by analogy compelled, confess 
 Earth, Sun, and Moon, and Sea, each thing that is, 
 One of a countless tribe : that laws the same 
 Call into being every greatest thing 
 And thing minutest ; nor, their race full run, 
 Waits this than that more sure the common grave. 
 
 By such philosophy assured, thou dar'st 
 View Nature acting freely, uncompell'd, 
 Unaided, e'en, by her proud Lords, the Gods.
 
 ON THE NATURE OF THINGS. 101 
 
 For O, ye blessed souls of Powers above, 
 That lead your lives in all repose and peace, 
 Where is the Spirit, of Infinity 
 To rule the sum, with hand of force to guide 
 The reins of all the starry deep, each sky 
 Attempering to warm its fruitful Earth, 
 All present at all times ? with gathering clouds 
 Shrouding the firmament, or the blue serene 
 Shaking with thunder ; while his towering fanes 
 He blasts with his own bolts ? now to the waste 
 Retreating sullen, his dread shafts to pour 
 With blinded fury on the insensate sand ; 
 Those aimless shafts that oft at random strike 
 The good and just, while felons sleep secure ? 
 
 Since Earth's prime natal day, since first the Sun 
 Shot forth his beams, and Ocean bubbling rose, 
 To each have atoms ever flock'd, sent forth 
 On mission vague through Nature's teeming gulf, 
 Augmenting all ; whence gaining strength, the 
 
 Heavens 
 
 Upreared aloft their towering battlements 
 High above Earth, and Air etherial rose. 
 For every atom borne from every part
 
 102 ON THE NATURE OF THINGS. 
 
 In whirl perpetual, atoms finds at length 
 Congenial, and in its place subsides : 
 The wet with wet, Earthy with Earth conjoins, 
 And fiery fire, Etherial ether breeds. 
 Thus Nature, all-creating, to its size 
 Mature each body rears by slow degrees, 
 Till at that point arrived when not more flows 
 Into the vital veins than issues forth : 
 Such limit to each thing that lives assign'd, 
 Thus her own increase Nature moderate checks. 
 For all thou view'st in days of joyous youth 
 Waxing in conscious strength to force mature, 
 These more take in than dissipate, as yet 
 Their young veins kindly drinking in each food : 
 Nor blighting age has touch'd the fresh machine, 
 Scattering its parts diverse with greater speed 
 Than Nature renovates. In constant flux 
 Lives everything : while more flows in than out, 
 Not yet has reach'd the frame its height mature : 
 Then Time his withering hand lays gently first 
 On strength adult which crumbles to decay. 
 Greater the bulk, th' increasing power remov'd, 
 More is the waste to every side diffus'd : 
 The food no longer kindly fills the veins,
 
 ON THE NATURE OF THINGS. IO3 
 
 Unequal to supply life's ebbing tide : 
 
 The needful food whereby all creatures live 
 
 Nature supplies not nor the veins receive. 
 
 By law thus perish all created things, 
 
 Life's tide out-flowing and their failing strength, 
 
 Harass'd and worn by never-ceasing jars 
 
 And blows and buffets of external force. 
 
 So shall the mighty walls that circle Earth, 
 
 By time o'erthrown, in dust and ruin lie. 
 
 E'en now our World is aged : Earth worn out, 
 With labour bears her puny sons, of old 
 Mother of giants, and huge monstrous beasts. 
 Those pretty tales let them believe who list, 
 That men were dropp'd by golden chain from Heaven,. 
 Or born from clash of rocks with angry waves : 
 I hold that Earth, who rears them, first begat. 
 
 In palmy days of old, the Earth, yet young, 
 Spontaneous bore profuse the clustering vine, 
 And every fruit most fair ; throughout the fields 
 Rich pasture scattering wide, and golden grain, 
 That now ne'er springs unask'd, man's weary toil 
 Rewarding slow and sullen : the yok'd ox
 
 104 ON THE NATURE OF THINGS. 
 
 We drive laborious, and the ploughman's strength 
 
 Waste on the clod that scarce our pain rewards. 
 
 Thus toil is more, its guerdon ever less. 
 
 Now shakes his head and sighs the aged swain, 
 
 Viewing his labours less and less avail, 
 
 While past with present he compares, and lauds 
 
 The lot more prosperous of his happier sire ! 
 
 Planting the aged barren vine, on Time 
 
 He mutters curses, and th' unaiding Gods ; 
 
 Repeating oft how men of th' olden time, 
 
 Frugal and pious, bounded their small wants 
 
 By narrow strip of land, than acres now 
 
 More fertile ; while forgets his simple soul 
 
 That all things have their course, forespent by age 
 
 Slowly but surely sinking to the grave. 
 
 THE END.
 
 UC SOUTHERN REGIONAL LIBRARY FACILITY 
 
 A 000018708 8