Title: The Odes of Casimire, Translated by G. Hils
Author: Sarbiewski, Maciej Kazimierz, 1595-1640
Language: Latin
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  The Augustan Reprint Society


  MATHIAS CASIMIRE
  SARBIEWSKI

  _The Odes of Casimire, Translated by G. Hils_

  (1646)


  With an Introduction by
  Maren-Sofie Roestvig


  Publication Number 44

  Los Angeles
  William Andrews Clark Memorial Library
  University of California
  1953



GENERAL EDITORS

  RICHARD C. BOYS, _University of Michigan_
  RALPH COHEN, _University of California, Los Angeles_
  VINTON A. DEARING, _University of California, Los Angeles_
  LAWRENCE CLARK POWELL, _Clark Memorial Library_

ASSISTANT EDITOR

  W. EARL BRITTON, _University of Michigan_

ADVISORY EDITORS

  EMMETT L. AVERY, _State College of Washington_
  BENJAMIN BOYCE, _Duke University_
  LOUIS BREDVOLD, _University of Michigan_
  JOHN BUTT, _King’s College, University of Durham_
  JAMES L. CLIFFORD, _Columbia University_
  ARTHUR FRIEDMAN, _University of Chicago_
  EDWARD NILES HOOKER, _University of California, Los Angeles_
  LOUIS A. LANDA, _Princeton University_
  SAMUEL H. MONK, _University of Minnesota_
  ERNEST C. MOSSNER, _University of Texas_
  JAMES SUTHERLAND, _University College, London_
  H. T. SWEDENBERG, JR., _University of California, Los Angeles_

CORRESPONDING SECRETARY

  EDNA C. DAVIS, _Clark Memorial Library_



INTRODUCTION


Mathias Casimire Sarbiewski (1595-1640) vas a Polish Jesuit whose
neo-Latin Horatian odes and Biblical paraphrases gained immediate
European acclaim upon their first publication in 1625 and 1628.[1] The
fine lyric quality of Sarbiewski’s poetry, and the fact that he often
fused classical and Christian motifs, made a critic like Hugo Grotius
actually prefer the “divine Casimire” to Horace himself, and his
popularity among the English poets is evidenced by an impressive number
of translations.

G. Hils’s _Odes of Casimire_ (1646), here reproduced by permission from
the copy in the Henry E. Huntington Library, is the earliest English
collection of translations from the verse of the Polish Horace. It is
also the most important. Acknowledged translations of individual poems
appeared in Henry Vaughan’s _Olor Iscanus_ (1651), Sir Edward
Sherburne’s _Poems and Translations_ (1651), the _Miscellany Poems and
Translations by Oxford Hands_ (1685), Isaac Watts’s _Horae Lyricae_
(1706), Thomas Brown’s _Works_ (1707-8), and John Hughes’s _The Ecstasy.
An Ode_ (1720). Unacknowledged paraphrases from Casimire include Abraham
Cowley’s “The Extasie,”[2] John Norris’s “The Elevation,”[3] and a
number of Isaac Watts’s pious and moral odes.[4] Latin editions of
Casimire’s odes appeared in London in 1684, and in Cambridge in 1684
and 1689.

Another striking example of the direct influence of Casimire upon
English poetry is presented by Edward Benlowes’s _Theophila_ (1652).
This long-winded epic of the soul exhibits not only a general
indebtedness in imagery and ideas, but also direct borrowings of whole
lines from Hils’s _Odes of Casimire_. One example will have to suffice:

  Casimire, Ode IV, 44

      _Theophila_, XIII, 68

  Let th’ _Goth_ his strongest chaines prepare,
  The _Scythians_ hence mee captive teare,
  My mind being free with you, I’le stare
  The Tyrants in the face....

    Then let fierce Goths their strongest chains prepare;
    Grim Scythians me their slave declare;
    My soul being free, those tyrants in the face I’ll stare.

Casimire’s greatest achievement was in the field of the philosophic
lyric, and in a number of cases he anticipated poetic techniques and
motifs which later grew popular also with the English poets. Thus, long
before Denham and Marvell, he practised the technique of investing the
scenes of nature with a moral or spiritual significance. A comparison
of Casimire’s loco-descriptive first epode on the estate of the Duke of
Bracciano with Denham’s _Cooper’s Hill_ (1642) reveals that the Polish
poet was the first to mix description with moral reflection, and to
choose the gentle hills, the calmly flowing river, and a retired country
life as symbols of the Horatian golden mean.

Some of Casimire’s richest imagery is found in his paraphrases of
_Canticles_, and particularly in Ode IV, 21. Parts of this ode provide a
striking parallel to the famous fifth stanza of Marvell’s “The Garden.”
In it Horace and Virgil meet with Solomon, the _hortus conclusus_ of the
Hebrew poet merging with the landscape of retirement as we find it in
Virgil’s eclogues or in Horace’s second and sixteenth epodes. Much of
Casimire’s poetry, is indeed best understood as a conscious effort to
apply the allegorical technique of _Canticles_ to the classical _beatus
ille_-themes,[5] just as his thought presents an interesting combination
of Stoic and Platonic ideas.

The Polish poet, who was a university professor and a doctor of
theology, may easily have learned from the Hermetic writers how to
combine these great classical traditions. There is direct proof of
Casimire’s familiarity with the Hermetic tradition in his Ode II, 5
(“E Rebus Humanis Excessus”), which is a paraphrase of _Libellus I_,
sections 25 and 26.[6] Since Henry Vaughan was familiar with Casimire’s
poetry, it is reasonable to suspect that Vaughan’s own treatment of
Hermetic motifs owed much to this influence. If one compares Vaughan’s
religious nature lyrics and Casimire’s odes, a number of common poetical
motifs are easily found, and so we are here again faced with the fact
that themes which became popular in England in the mid-seventeenth
century were anticipated in the Latin odes of Casimire.[7]

Hermetic ideas are also encountered in Casimire’s third epode,
which combines a Horatian Stoicism with a neo-Platonlc or Hermetic
interpretation of the classical landscape of retirement. An avowed reply
to Horace’s second epode, it expands the Horatian philosophy through the
addition of three new themes: the theme of solitude, the theme of the
Earthly Paradise, and the theme of Nature as a divine hieroglyph. Its
presentation of the garden ecstasy of the retired _beatus vir_ thus
strikes the same note to which we know from Mildmay Fane’s “To
Retiredness” and Andrew Marvell’s “The Garden.” In slightly adapted
form, these themes were to flourish in the poetry of the Countess
of Winchilsea, Isaac Watts, John Hughes, and a number of early
eighteenth-century nature poets.

In the Romantic period Casimire’s fame was again revived. While still a
young man, Coleridge planned a complete translation of Casimire’s odes,
but never finished more than the ode “Ad Lyram.” It was also Coleridge
who said that with the exception of Lucretius and Statius he knew no
Latin poet, ancient or modern, who could be said to equal Casimire
in boldness of conception, opulence of fancy, or beauty of
versification.[8] A knowledge of the themes and techniques of this
Latin poet should therefore be of interest to all students of English
poetry.

  Maren-Sofie Roestvig
  University of Oslo



NOTES TO THE INTRODUCTION


1. For a complete bibliography, see Carlos Sommervogel, Bibliothèque de
la Compagnie de Jésus (Bruxelles et Paris, 1896), VII, 627-646.

2. In the preface to _The Ecstasy. An Ode_ (1720), John Hughes comments
on Cowley’s indebtedness, in “The Extasie,” to Casimire.

3. Norris’s indebtedness has been pointed out by Hoxie N. Fairchild,
_Religious Trends in English Poetry_ (New York, 1939- ), I, 110, n. 21.

4. Compare Watts’s “False Greatness,” “’Tis Dangerous to Follow the
Multitude,” and “The Kingdom of the Wise Man” to Casimire’s Ode IV, 34;
IV, 10; and IV, 3.

5. By this term is understood the themes presented in Horace’s second
epode on the happy country life.

6. Hermes Trismegistus, _Hermetica_, ed. Walter Scott (Oxford, 1924-36),
I, 129.

7. No study has as yet been made of Casimire’s influence upon English
literature, but I hope shortly to publish the results of my own
investigation of this problem.

8. Coleridge prefaced his translation of the ode “Ad Lyram” with this
remark. See also _Biographia Literaria_, ed. John Shawcross (Oxford,
1907), II, 209. For further critical estimates, see Sir John Bowring,
trans., _Specimens of the Polish Poets_ (London, 1827), and Caecilius
Metellus, pseud., “On the Life and Writings of Casimir,” _The Classical
Journal_, XXV (1822), 103-110.

       *       *       *       *       *
           *       *       *       *


  The
  ODES
  of
  CASIMIRE

  Translated by
  _G. H._


  [Illustration]


  LONDON,

  Printed by _T. W._ for _Humphrey Moseley_,
  at the signe of the Princes Armes in
  _Pauls_ Church-yard, _1646_.



  [Illustration]

  The
  ODES of
  CASIMIRE

  _Translated by_
  G. H.

  _Printed for _Humphrey Moseley_ at the Princes-Armes
  in Pauls Churchyard 1646. W. M. sculp:_



  [Decoration]

  _Od. 1. Lib. 1._

  Cum infestæ Thracum Copiæ Pannoniâ excessissent.

      [Decoration]

      Od. 1. Lib. 1.

      When the hatefull forces of the Thracians departed out of
      _Pannonia_.

  Jam minæ sævi cecidere belli:
  Jam profanatis malè pulsa terris
  Et salus, & pax niveis revisit
        Oppida bigis:
  Iam fides, & fas, & amæna præter
  Faustitas, læto volat arva curru:
  Iam fluunt passim pretiosa largis
        Sæcula rivis.
  Candidi soles veterisq; venæ
  Fontibus nati revocantur Anni:
  Grandinat Gemmis, riguoq; Cœlum
        Depluit Auro.

      The threats of cruell Warre now cease:,
      In stead of them safety and peace,
      Banish’d th’unhallowed earth, doe please
            ’Returne in their white Waine;
      Faith joyn’d with Truth, and Plenty too
      O’re pleasant fields doe nimbly goe;
      The precious Ages past, doe flow
            With liberall streames againe.
      Cleare dayes, such yeares as were of old
      Recalled are, o’th’ ancient mold,
      The Heavens hayle Pearles, and molten Gold
            Doth raine down-right in showres;

  Meq; veraci cecinisse plectro
  Inter Octobreis, tua festa, pompas,
  Prisca _Saturni_ rediisse sæcla,
        Approbat Orbis.
  Aurei patrum niveiq; mores,
  Exul & serâ procul usq; Thule,
  Candor, & pulchro remeare virtus
        Audet _Olympo_.

      Whilst I with my Prophetique string
      Thy Winter feastivalls doe sing,
      The whole world doth with Ecchoes ring
            Old _Saturn’s_ age is ours.
      Our Fathers pure and golden rule
      Exil’d as farre as farthest Thule,
      Justice from bright _Olympus_ schoole
            Comes boldly back againe.

  Lactis, & fusi per aprica mellis
  Garruli Campos secuêre rivi:
  Et superfuso tumuêre plenæ
        Nectare ripæ.
  Lætior vulgò seges inquietis
  Fluctuat culmis, titubantq; frugum
  Uberes Campi, nec avara sulcis
        Invidet æstas.
  Pastor Erranteis comitatus Hœdos
  Provocat raucas calamo cicadas:
  Mugiunt Colles, & anhela fessis
        Silva Iuvencis.

      The streams which Milk and Honey yeild,
      Their passage cut through open field,
      And the full banks with Nectar swell’d
            Doe drowne the flowrie plaine.
      The glad Corne in the restles stalke
      Waves, and the fields as wee doe walke,
      So fruitfull reele, to any balke
            The Heat no spight doth owe.
      The Herdsmans Pipe to’s wandring Goats,
      Provokes the Grashoppers hoarse notes;
      The tyred Herd with strayned throats,
            Makes Hills and Woods to low.

  Pace subsultant juga, pace rident
  Tetrica rupes: leve separatos
  Otium colleis amat, & sequestri
        Gaudia pagi.
  Te _Ceres_ flavis redimita culmis,
  Magne pacati moderator orbis,
  Te suis Æstas opulenta Circum-
        fundit aristis.
  Supplici Myrtus tibi servit umbrâ,
  Serviunt Lauri: tibi celsa longè
  Quercus assurgit, tremuloq; pinus
        Vertice nutat.
  Siderum præses, dominusq; terræ,
  Lucidâ Romam speculatus aree,
  Regna tranquillet, Cupidoq; patrem
        Te velit orbi.

      The Mountaines leape, and rough Rocks smile
      For gentle Peace rejoyceth still
      Such solitary roomes to fill
            Hills set apart, ’lone Townes.
      _Ceres_ with yellow Chaplet, and
      The Summer rich with eares doth stand,
      Great Prince of our appeased Land,
            Thee to encompasse round.
      The Myrtle begs with humble shade
      To serve thee and the Laurel’s glade;
      The lofty Oake doth rise; Its head
            The trembling Pine doth bow;
      Hee that o’re Starrs and earth hath powre,
      Beholding us, from his bright Towre,
      Calms all, and sets thee father o’re
            The covetous world below.

  Laurus annosum tibi signet ævum:
  Fata te norint, properentque parcæ
  Nescium carpi tibi destinatos
        Stamen in annos.
  Quæq; formosos sedet inter igneis,
  Sedulam pro te miserata _Romam_
  Virgo, quam circum glomerantur albis
        Astra choreis.
  Curet effusas Latii querelas,
  Virginum castas juvenumque voces
  Curet, & votis procerum reclinem
        accommodet aurem.

      The Laurell signe long life to thee,
      Let Fates and destinies agree
      To twine thy thred, which cannot bee
            Cut ’till th’appointed time.
      May shee amidst those glorious fires,
      For thy sake, pittying our desires,
      ’Bout whom the beauteous starrs inquires,
            And flowing measures swim;
      May shee, I say, our Country’s griefe
      Cure, and the chast complaints releive
      Of all our youth, and willing eares
            Apply to th’ praiers of all our Peeres.



  Ad Aurelium Lycum.

  _Ode 2. Lib. 1._

  Nè plus æquo de adversâ fortunâ queratur.

      To _Aurelius Lycas_.

      Ode 2. Li. 1.

      _That hee would not complaine too much of adverse fortune._

  Indignas, Lyce, nænias,
      Et mæstum gemitu pectus, & hispidis
  Frontem nubibus expedi,
      Cum Sol non solito lumine riserit,
  Et fortuna volubilis
      Fati difficilem jecerit aleam.
  Quod vexant hodié Noti,
      Cras lambent hilares æquor Ætesiæ.
  Mœstum sol hodiè caput,
      Cras lætum roseo promet ab æquore.
  Alterno redeunt choro
      Risus & gemitus, & madidis propè
  Sicci cum Lacrymis joci.
      Nascuntur mediis gaudia luctibus,
  Sic fatis placitum. suis
      Tempestiva fluunt fata periculis.

      Unmanly howlings, _Lycuas_, leave,
      Thy sad breast doe not vex, nor grieve;
      Thy rugged brow from cloudes set free,
      Although with usuall beames ’on thee
      The Sun not shines; or fortune late
      Hath throwne the hardest chance of Fate.
      With th’ waves, that South windes tosse to day,
      The cheerfull Easterne gales will play;
      The Sun that now hangs downe his head,
      With joy from blushing _Thetis_ bed
      I’th’ morne will rise. Laughter and woe
      Keepe time, and in their courses goe.
      Cleare merriment succeeds wet eyes,
      And joyes in mid’st of sorrows rise.
      Thus pleaseth it the Fates, that flow
      With various hazards here below.

  Fessos duxit heri boves,
      Dat magnis hodiè jura Quiritibus:
  Et quæ bobus ademerat,
      Imponit Gabiis, & Curibus juga.
  Idem Phosphorus aspicit
      Magnum quem tenuem viderat Hesperus.
  Quod si seria ludicris
      Fortuna placeat texere; Rusticus
  Hesternam repetet casam,
      Ridentis populi non humilis jocus:
  Et queis rexerat omnia,
      Findet laurigeris ligna securibus.
  Quod si defuerit salix
      Fasces pauperibus subjiciet focis.

      Hee who his Oxen tyr’d, did drive,
      Doth lawes to day, to th’ City give:
      And the same yokes he tooke from those,
      Upon the Citizens impose.
      The day-starre great, that man doth see,
      Whom th’Evening saw in low degree.
      But if the things that serious are
      With Fortunes pastimes to compare
      Doth please you; See, this Country-man
      Betakes himselfe to’s farme againe,
      Of’s jeering neighbours th’only sport,
      And with those Axes which i’th’ Court
      Hee ruled all with, Cleaves his wood,
      Whose Helves are made of Laurell good.
      And if a want of wood there growes,
      The _Fasces_ on the fire he throwes.



  Ad _Tarquinium Lavinum_.

  Od. 13. lib. 1.

  Non si Sol semel occidit,
    Non rubris iterum surget ad Indiis;
  Nec si quos celeris rotæ
    Sors non exiguo proruit impetu,
  Non lapsos iterum levet,
    Arguto docilis ludere cum joco.
  Ne spem projice, _Tarquini_:
    Cujus pænè retro lambere pulverem
  Et vestigia diceris,
    Cum fortuna levem verterit orbitam,
  Effusam super & luto
    Fumantem poteris cernere purpuram.
  Tunc & risibus abstine,
    Neu turpi domino Lumina paveris:
  Neu calces nimium, memor
    Fortunæ geminam sæpe jaci pilam.


      To _Tarquinius Lavinus_.

      _Ode 13. lib. 1._

      As if the Sun that once doth set,
        From th’ blushing East a new birth doth not get
      As if that those whom Fortunes frowne
        By the swift violence of her wheele, throwes down,
      Shee would not raise again with ease,
        So active in such nimble sports as these.
      Despaire not (Sir) whose footsteps now
        Thou’rt said to kisse, and lick the dust of’s shooe,
      Let Fortune her light wheele but turne,
        And then _Tarquinius_, thou shalt soon discerne
      From his proud height, him downward thrust,
        His trampled robes smoking in mire and dust.
      Thy jeeres and laughter then forbeare,
        His all-bespattred lookes thou shalt not feare,
      Nor trample on, remembring how
        Fortune a double ball doth often throw.



  Ad _Publium Memmium_.

  _Ode 2. Lib. 2._

  Vitæ humanæ brevitatem benefactis extendendam esse.

  Qua tegit Canas modò bruma valleis,
  Sole vicinos jaculante monteis
  Deteget rursum. Tibi cum nivosa
        Bruma senecta
  In caput seris cecidit pruinis,
  Decidet nunquam. Cita fugit Æstas,
  Fugit Autumnus, fugient propinqui
        Tempora veris:
  At tibi frigus, capitiq; cani
  Semper hærebunt, neq; multa Nardus
  Nec parum gratum repetita dement
        Serta colorem.
  Una quem nobis dederat juventus:
  Una te nobis rapiet senectus:
  Sed potes, _Publi_, geminare magnâ
        Sæcula famâ,
  Quem sui raptum gemuêre cives.
  Hic diu vixit. Sibi quisq; famam
  Scribat Hæredem: rapiunt avaræ
        Cetera Lunæ.


      To _Publius Memmius_.

      _Ode 2. Lib. 2._

      _That the shortnesse of mans life is to bee lengthened
      by good deeds._

      The Valleys, now, all clad in gray
      By Winter, when Sol darts his ray
      On neighbouring hills, hee’l naked lay,
            As heretofore.
      But when the winter of thy yeares
      With snow, within thy locks appeares,
      When hoary frost shall dye thine haires,
            It parts no more.
      Summer, and Autumn’s quickly gone,
      Th’approaching Spring will passe as soon:
      Gray hayres, and chilling cold alone
            With thee will stay.
      To thy ill colour, Nard distill’d,
      Nor the renew’d perfumes o’th’ field
      Of flowres, can any vertue yeild,
            Or tak’t away.
      Thee, whom thy youth hath giv’n tó day.
      At night old age will take away.
      Thy time to double, is, to lay
            A fame most bright.
      Whom snach’d by death, his friends bemone,
      He hath liv’d long. Let every one
      Write Fames sole heire: that’s free alone,
            From th’ rape of night.



  E Rebus Humanis Excessus.

  _Ode 5. Lib. 2._

      _A Departure from things humane._

      _Ode 5. Lib. 2._

  Humana linquo: tollite præpetem
  Nubesque ventique. Ut mihi devii
    Montes resedere, & volanti
    Regna porcul, populosque vastos
  Subegit aer! jam radiantia
  Delubra Divum, jam mihi regiæ
    Turres recessere, & relicta in
    Exiguum tenuantur urbes;
  Totasq; qua se cunque ferunt vaga
  Despecto Gentes. O lacrymabilis
    Jncerta fortuna! ô fluentûm
    Principia, interitúsque rerum!

        Lift me up quickly on your wings,
      Ye Clouds, and Winds; I leave all earthly things;
        How Devious Hills give way to mee!
      And the vast ayre brings under, as I fly,
        Kingdomes and populous states! see how
      The Glyst’ring Temples of the Gods doe bow;
        The glorious Tow’rs of Princes, and
      Forsaken townes, shrunke into nothing, stand:
        And as I downward looke, I spy
      Whole Nations every where all scattred lye.
        Oh the sad change that Fortune brings!
      The rise and fall of transitory things!

  Hîc ducta primis oppida mœnibus
  Minantur in Cœlum: hîc veteres ruunt
    Muríque turresq;: hîc supinas
    Pæné cinis sepelivit arces.
  Hîc mite Cœlum, sed rapidæ ruunt
  In Bella Gentes: hîc placida sedent
    In pace, sed latè quietos
    Dira lues populatur agros.

        Here walled townes that threatned Heav’n,
      Now old and ruin’d, with the earth lye even:
        Here stately Pallaces, that thrust
      Their heads i’th’ayre, lye buried all in dust.
        Here the Ayre Temp’rate is and mild,
      But the fierce people rush to warres, most wild:
        Here in a joyfull peace they rest,
      But Direfull Murraines their quiet fields lay wast.

  Hîc pænè tellus tota micantibus
  Ardet sub armis: stant acies adhuc
    Pendente fatorum sub ictu,
    Et dubio furor hæsitavit
  In bella passu: parte aliâ recens
  Jam mista Mavors agmina mutuam
    Collisit in mortem, & Cadentûm
    Cæde virûm, Cumulísque latos
  Insternit agros: hîc Mareotica
  Secura merces æquora navigant,
    Portusq; certatim frequentes
    Centum operis populisque fervent.

        Here the whole Land doth scorching lye
      Under the glittering Armes o’ th’Enemy:
        Under the hovering stroke o’ th’ Fates
      The Armies yet both stand; and fury waites
        With doubfull steps, upon the warre;
      Fresh courage here, the mingled troopes prepare.
        Each against other fiercely run,
      And mutually they worke destruction:
        The slaughtered heapes in reeking gore
      With bloudy covering spread the fields all o’re:
        Here on safe Seas, as joyfull prize
      Is strip’d away th’Ægyptian Merchandize,
        Whilst the full Havens thick beset,
      Doe furiously with fierce contention fret.

  Nec una Marti causa, nec unius
  Sunt Arma moris. Bellat Adultera
    Ridentis è vultu voluptas,
    Inq; _Helena_ procus ardet orbis.
  Hic verba bellis vindicat: hic canis,
  Heu vile furtum! Se mala comparant;
    Rarum sub exemplo superbit,
    Nec sceleris scelus instar omne est.

        _Mars_ hath his divers Causes, and
      His severall fashion’d weapons to command.
        From the Adultresse smiling lookes
      Pleasure doth fight, and unto Warre provokes,
        The doting world with _Helen_ burnes.
      This sordid man, oh base advantage! turnes
        Revenge of vvords to blowes;
      Mischiefe begets it selfe, from mischiefe growes.
        Small sins by example higher dare,
      Nor doth all sin, alvvaies like sin appeare.

  Eous illinc belligerâ latet
  Sub Classe pontus: Jam _Thetis_ æneá
    Mugire flammarum procellâ, &
    Attonitæ trepidare cautes,
  Et ipsa circum littora percuti
  Majore fluctu. Sistite barbari,
    Ferroq; neu simplex, & igni &
    Naufragio geminate fatum.

        There th’Easterne Sea lyes coverd o’re
      With vvarlike Fleets: _Thetis_ begins to rore
        With stormes of flaming Brasse, and here
      Th’astonish’d Rocks all trembling stand with feare.
        The troubled Sea vvith vvinds beset
      With stronger vvaves ’gainst the full shore doth beat.
        Forbeare, cruell men to multiply
      With fire, Sword-vvrack your single destiny.

  Parumnè Tellus in miseras patet
  Immensa mortes? hinc miserabili
    Quassata terrarum tumultu
    Stare pavent titubantq; regna,
  Unâq; tandem funditus obruunt
  Cives ruinâ. Stat tacitus cinis,
    Cui serus inscribat viator:
    _Cum populo jacet hic & ipso
  Cum Rege Regnũ._ Quid memorem super-
  Infusa totis æquora portubus
    Urbes inundare, & repenti
    Tecta Deúm sonuisse fluctu.
  Regumq; Turres, & pelago Casas
  Jamjam latentes? jam video procul
    Merceisq; differri, & natantem
    Oceano fluitare gazam.

        Is the large Earth too narrovv grovvne,
      Such slaughters, such dire tragedies to ovvne?
        Large Kingdomes there, brought under thrall
      With Tumult, stagger, and for feare doe fall;
        Where in one Ruine wee may see
      The dying people all o’rewhelmed lye.
        The silent dust remaines, to let
      The weary Pilgrim this Inscription set
        (In after times, at hee goes by)
      _King, Kingdome, People here entombed lye_.
        What should I name the raging Seas,
      Whole Havens over-flowing, and with these
        I’th’ sudden floud whole Cities drown’d
      The shaken Temples of the Gods that found?
        Kings Pallaces what should I name
      Now sunke i’th’ deepe, small Cottages i’th’ same?
        Vast wealth I see swept downe with th’ tyde
      Rich treasure in the Ocean floting glyde.

  Alterna rerum militat efficax
  In damna mundus. Cladibus instruit
    Bellisq; rixisq; & ruinis
    Sanguineam libitina scenam,
  Suprema doxec stelligerum dies
  Claudat Theatrum. Quid morer hactenus
    Viator aurarum & serenas
    Sole domos aditurus usque
  Humana mirer? tollite præpetem
  Festina vatem, tollite nubila
    Qua solis & Lunæ Labores
    Cæruleo vehit æthra Campo.

        The active world t’each others harmes
      Doth daily fight, and the pale Goddesse armes
        The bloudy scene with slaughters, warrs,
      With utter ruins, and with deadly jarrs;
        Thus there’s no _Exit_ of our woes,
      Till the last day the Theater shall close,
        Why stay I then, when goe I may--
      To’a house enlightned by the Suns bright ray?
        Shall I still dote on things humane?
      Lift up your longing Priest, yee Clouds, oh deigne
        Lift m’up where th’aire a splendour yeilds
      Lights the sun’s chariot through the azure fields.

  Ludor? sequaces aut subeunt latus
  Ferunt; venti? Jamque iterum mihi
    Et regna decrevere, & immensæ
    Ante oculos periêre gentes;
  Suóque semper terra minor Globo
  Jam jamque cerni difficilis, suum
    Vanescit in punctum? ô refusum
    Numinis Oceanum! ô carentem
  Mortalitatis portubus insulam!
  O clausa nullis marginibus freta!
    Haurite anhelantem, & perenni
    _Sarbivium_ glomerate fluctu.

        Am I deceived? or doe I see
      The following winds on their wings mounting me,
        And now againe Great kingdomes lye
      Whole Nations perishing before mine eye?
        The earth which alwayes lesse hath beene
      Then’s Globe, and now, just now can scarce be seene,
        Into it’s point doth vanish, see!
      Oh the brim’d Ocean of the Deitie!
        Oh Glorious Island richly free
      From the cold Harbours of mortality!
        Yee boundlesse Seas, with endlesse flouds of rest
        Girt round _Sarbinius_ your panting Priest.



  Ad Publium Memmium.

  Od. 7. Lib. 2.

  Esset humanis aliquod levamen
  Cladibus, si res caderent eâdem
  Quâ morâ surgunt; sed humant repentes
        Alta ruinæ.
  Nil diu felix stetit; inquieta
  Urbium currunt hominumq; Fata:
  Totq; vix horis jacuêre, surgunt
        Regna quot annis.
  Casibus longum dedit ille tempus,
  Qui diem regnis satis eruendis
  Dixit: elato populos habent mo-
        menta sub ictu.
  Parce crudeles, moriture _Publi_,
  Impio divos onerare questu,
  Densa vicinis nimiùm vagari
        Funera tectis.
  Quæ tibi primùm dedit hora nasci,
  Hæc mori primùm dedit. Ille longùm
  Vixit, æternum sibi qui merendo
        Vindicat ævum.


      To _Publius Memmius_.

      _Ode 7. Lib. 2._

        Amidst our losse it were some ease,
      If things did fall, with the same stay, and leisure
        They rise; but sudden ruines seize
      On our most lofty things, and richest treasure.
        Nothing long time hath happy been.
      The restlesse Fates of peopled-Cities, passe:
        In a few hour’s destroy’d w’have seen,
      In many yeares what never raised was.
        He gave to Chance long time, that said
      One day’s enough, whole Kingdomes t’overthrow:
        Each moment holds a people swayd
      Under a fatall and exalted blow.
        Being neere thy death, then, _Publius_, spare
      To load the Gods, with thy blasphemous plaints;
        That Funeralls so frequent are,
      Or death so much thy neighbours house haunts.
        The houre, that first to thee gave life,
      That thou should’st likewise dye, gave first to thee.
        He hath liv’d long, who well doth strive
      Sure alwaies of eternall life to bee.



  Ad Asterium. Ode 8. lib 2.

  At nos inani pascit imagine
  Fortuna rerum. Ludimur _Asteri_,
    Umbris amicorum; & doloso
      Verba simul placuêre fuco,
  Res esse stulti credimus. at simul
  Sors infidelem corripuit rotam,
    Gaudent recedenti Sodales
      Non eadem dare verba Divæ.
  Plerumq; falsis nominibus placent
  Humana. Rari pollicitis data
    Aequamus: & minor loquaci
      Relligio solet esse voto.


      To Asterius. _Od 8. l. 2._

      VV’Are mock’d with ’baytes that fortune flings
      And fed with th’empty husks of things:
          Shadowes, not friends we entertaine;
          W’are pleas’d with the deceitfull traine
      Of words, and thinke them deeds. But when
      Th’unconstant wheele shall turne agen
          To th’ parting Goddesse, wee shall see
          Those friends the selfe-same words deny.
      Things Humane under false names please.
      Our gifts match not our promises;
          Religion, lesse to be doth use,
          Then the large language of our vowes.



  Ex sacro Salomonis Epithal.

  Ode 19. l. 2.

    Similis est dilectus meus capreæ, hinnuloque cervorum.

      Out of _Solomon’s_ sacred Mariage Song.

      _Ode 19. Lib. 2._

  Vitas sollicitæ me similis capræ,
  Quam vel nimbisoni sibilus Africi,
  Vel motum subitis murmur Etesiis
        Vano corripit impetu.
  Nam seu prima metum bruma trementibus
  Incussit foliis, sive Diespiter
  Elisit resonis tela Cerauniis,
        Incertâ trepidat fugâ.
  At qui non ego te quærere desinam,
  Clamatura retrò, _Christe_, Revertere: &
  Rursus, cùm rapido fugeris impetu,
        Clamatura, Revertere.

      Thou shunnest me, like to a fearfull Roe,
        Which, as the stormy North-winds blow,
      Or the rough noise o’ th’ suddaine Easterne blast,
        Is snatch’d away with forcelesse hast.
      For th’early frost the trembling leaves doth fright,
        Or else the Father of the light
      Hath hewne from th’ecchoing rocks his thundring darts,
        Hee hastens with such doubtfull starts.
      But till I find thee, I’le not cease, nor rest,
        But cry aloud, Returne, ô Christ:
      And when with swifter speed thou fly’st away,
        Returne againe, ô Christ, I’le say.

  O seu te Libani terga virentia,
  Seu formosa rubræ culta Bethuliæ,
  Seu pinguis Solymæ, sive procul cavæ
        Cingunt rura Capharniæ;
  Tandem sollicitæ pone modum fugæ.
  Nam non effugies, Te mihi sedulis
  Aether excubiis prodet, & aureis
        Prodet Cynthia cornibus.
  Te neglecta gemunt littora, te procul
  Suspirat tacitis aura Pavoniis,
  Te noctis vigiles, te mihi vividis
        Signant sidera nutibus.

      The tops of _Lebanus_, so green and gay,
        The faire tilths of _Bethulia_,
      Encompasse thee, old _Salem_’s fruitfull Land,
        Or else _Capharnia_ low doth stand.
      At length give o’re thy sad and carefull flight:
        Thou shalt not scape me, th’evening bright
      With its so watchfull Centry, thee’l betray,
        And th’Moone with golden hornes doth stray.
      By th’grones of the neglected shores I’le find
        Thee; and by th’sighs o’th’ Westerne wind;
      Thee the night’s watch, the starrs that walke about
        With lively signes will point thee out.



  Diræ in Herodem.

  Ode 24. l. 2.

      _Diræ_ in _Herodem_.

      _Ode 24. Lib. 2._

  Devota sacræ progenies domus!
  Fatale monstrum! prodigialium
    Monstrum parentum! seu Libyssa
      Marmaricis leæ pavit antris,
  Seu te maligno sidere degener
  Pardus maritâ tigride prodidit,
    Furoris hæredem paterni;
      Sive gregis populator Afri
  Nudum sub alto destituit jugo;
  Seu belluosis fluctibus exspuit
    Irata tempestas nocentem
      Alitibusq; ferisq; prædam;

      Thou Cursed off-spring of that sacred place!
      Thou fatall monster of prodigious race!
      A Libyan Lyonesse in some Affrick den
      Gave nourishment to thee, thou shame of men.
      Or mungrill Libard with a shee-Tiger, hurl’d
      Thee, with a mischiefe, into th’hatefull world,
      Heyre to the fury of thy Syre, and damm;
      Or some wild Wolfe left thee a naked shame:
      Under a huge hard rock: some angry storme,
      From waves, with things so full of divers forme,
      For birds and beasts, spew’d th’up a banefull prey;

  Tuo severas pectore marmora
  Duxêre venas, marmora rupibus
    Decisa, quas Gætula cælebs
      Deucalio super arva iecit:
  Te sede primum livida regiâ
  Megæra fixit: Tisiphone dedit
    Sceptrum cruentandum feraq;
      Imposuit Diadema fronti; &
  Regale nuper cum premeres ebur
  Adsedit altis fulta curulibus,
    Et per Palæstinos Tyrannis
      Explicuit sua signa campos.

      The Marble quarry, ’mid’st the raging Sea,
      It’s rigid veynes, from thy rough bosome drew;
      Marble, from those rocks hewne, _Deucalion_ threw
      Over _Gætulian_ fields: _Megara_ first
      Fix’d th’in thy regall seat, on thee accurst
      Then _Tisiphon_ the Scepter did bestow,
      And set the Diadem on thy savage brow:
      And as thy princely Ivory, of late
      Thou proudly lean’dst upon, close by thee sate
      With stately columnes prop’d, fell tyrannie,
      Her Ensignes, who through _Palestine_ let fly:

  Tremensq; & atrum sanguine â manu
  Telum coruscans secum Odia, & Minas,
    Cædemque & insanos tumultus,
      Funeraq; & populorum iniquas
  Strages, & indignum excidium retrò
  Lactantis ævi traxit, & inclyta
    Regnorum, inexhaustasque longis
      Cladibus evacuavit urbies.
  Illam & parentum dira gementium
  Lamenta, Questusque, & Gemitus retrò,
    Luctusque vicatim secuti, &
      Irriguis Lacrymæ catervis.

      And her black sword with bloudy trembling hand
      Did brandish round, when straight at her command
      Hatreds, and strifes appear’d, murder and rage
      The horrid ruine of the new-borne age,
      Shee drew along; Tumultuous madness, all
      The slaughter’d peoples unjust funerall:
      Each famous kingdome, inexhausted towne
      In a large streame of bloud by her, o’re-throwne.
      Next followed Her, the plaints, and direfull grones
      Of sighing parents, rob’d of their little ones,
      Whole tydes of teares, sobs, and lamentings great
      And mourning in each corner of the street.

  Quòd si caducis decidit amnibus
  Præsagus imber, quid pluvias sequi
    Cunctantur ultrices procellæ,
      Et volucrum strepitu quadrigarum
  Incussus æther pigra tonitrua &
  Immugientûm fulmina nubium
    Compescit, indulgentque metæ
      Aëriis vaga tela pennis?

      But if this show’r, from this sad cause begun,
      In too too narrow rivulets doth run;
      Why doe revenging stormes so much delay
      To back the rayne? what doth their fury stay?
      Why doth the shaken sky with rustling noise
      Of the Sun’s chariot, bridle in the voice
      Of the slow thunder? why the lightning stop
      From breaking through the clouds with hideous clap?
      Those ayrie feather’d arrowes in the darke
      That stray, why do they spare their cursed marke?

  At nil trisulcis Acroceraunia
  Dejecta flammis, nil Rhodopes jugum,
    Quassæve peccavêre Cautes
      Aemathiæ, risi forté dirum
  Inominatis marmora partubus
  Fudêre monstrum: rumpite, rumpite
    Monteisque, facundasque Regum
      Fulmina præcipitate rupeis.

      _Acroceraunia_ with his three-fork’d flame.
      And that huge Hill the Thracian Queen gave name,
      _Æmathia’s_ craggy trembling rocks may passe
      Guiltlesse; they have not sin’d at all, alasse!
      Unlesse their Marble, with a prodigious birth,
      This direfull Monster teem’d, t’infest the earth:
      Breake then the mountaines, break yee lightnings,
      Throw headlong downe ye fruitfull rocks of Kings.

  Exspiret auras; occidat, occidat
  Funestus, execrabilis, efferus
    Sector; crematuramque taxum
      Ipse super cumulumque regni
  Summum cadaver fumet, & aëra
  Cælumque diro liberet halitu
    Fatale monstrum, dissidentûm
      Ludibrium Furiarum, & Orci.

      May hee exspire! oh may the murth’rer fall!
      Most execrable, cruell, tragicall!
      Upon his kingdom’s pile, and flaming yew
      Let his high carkasse blaze; the ayre anew
      May th’ monster purge from his infectious breath,
      The mocke of wrangling furyes, and of death.

  Perrumpe tractus impenetrabileis
  Ignava tellus, desuper arduâ
    Volvente saxorum ruinâ:
      Quam pelagus super, & refusis
  Bis terque Nereus Syrtibus insonet.
  Audimur. Ingens sidera verberat,
    Spumamque, limumque, & rapaceis
      Oceanus glomeravit undas:

      Oh breake your entrayles, sluggish earth, and downe
      Let the high ruins of the rocks be throwne;
      ’Gainst which the waves o’th’raging Sea may rore
      And _Nereus_ with his Quicksands Boyling o’re:
      Wee’re heard. The climbing surges strike the stars
      And the big Ocean all her strength prepares;
      Her foame, and slimy mud sh’hath heap’d together
      Devouring waves toss’d with the worst of weather:

  Jam nutat æther, jam barathrum propé,
  Vastisque campi dissidiis hiant:
    Jam fractus illabetur orbis
      Sacrilego capiti. i, profunda
  Inexpiato pollue Tartara
  Tyranni leto: solus & igneum
    Insume Cocytum, & frementem
      Sulphureis Acheronta ripis.

      The firmament doth shake, & Hell so neere
      Through the earths large chinks, which gapeth doth appear:
      The shatt’red world now falls on’s impious head,
      Goe, Tyrant with thy death unpardoned,
      Even Hell it selfe pollute, possesse, alone,
      _Cocytus_, and sulphureous _Acheron_.



  Ex sacro Salomonis Epithalamio.

    Fulcite me floribus, &c.

    Adiuro vos, filiæ Jerusalem, ne suscitetis, &c.
    Ecce iste venit, saliens in montibus, transiliens colles, &c.

  ODE 25. LIB. 2.

      Out of _Solomons_ sacred Marriage Song, Cant. 2.

        _Stay me with flagons, &c._
        _I charge O yee daughters of _Jerusalem_, that yee stirre
        not up, nor wake, &c._
        _Behold hee commeth leaping upon the Mountaines &c._

      ODE 25. LIB. 2.

  Me stipate rosariis,
    Me fulcite crocis, me violariis,
  Me vallate Cydoniis,
    Me canis, sociæ, spargite liliis:
  Nam visi mora Numinis
    Mî sacris animam torret in ignibus.
  Vos ô, vos ego filiæ
    Cælestis Solymæ; vos Galaditides,
  Vos ô per capreas ego
    Errantesq; jugis hinnuleos precor,
  Antiqui genus Isaci,
    Quæ saltus Libani, quæ viridem vago
  Carmelum pede visitis,
    Nymphæ nobilium gloria montium:

      Stay mee with saffron, underneath me set
        Full banks of Roses, beds of violet;
      Refresh mee with the choicest fruit, and spread
        The whitest Lillies round about my head:
      For the delay of the seene-pow’re divine
        In sacred flames, consumes this breast of mine.
      Yee Daughters of that holy Citie, yee!
        Yee Sisters! I, ’tis I, that humbly pray!
      O, I, intreat you, by each Hind, and Roe,
        That straying o’re the tops of Hills doe goe,
      Yee stock of ancient _Isaac_, yee that move
        With nimble foot through _Lebanus_ sweet grove,
      O’re _Carmels_ fragrant top! yee Nymphs so faire
        The glory of the noble Hills that are,

  Ne vexate tenacibus
    Acclinem violis: neu strepitu pedum,
  Neu plausæ sonitu manus
    Pacem solliciti rumpite somnii:
  Donec sponsa suo leves
    Somnos ex oculis pollice terserit:
  Donec Lucifer aureus
    Rerum paciferum ruperit otium.

      Molest not my beloved with your cryes,
        Amongst the twining Violets that lyes:
      Doe not with claps of hands, or noise of feet,
        Awake her, from her carefull slumbers yet:
      Untill my Spouse, of her owne selfe, shall rise
        And wipe away the soft sleep, from her eyes;
      Untill the golden day-starre shall release
        All things from silent rest, and gentle peace.

  Summis ecce venit jugis
    Formosæ soboles matris, & unica
  Formosi soboles patris:
    Silvarumq; super colla comantium,
  Et intonsum Libani caput,
    Magnorumq; salit terga cacuminum, ac
  Proceras nemorum domos
    Prono transiliens præterit impetu:
  Veloci similis capræ
    Qua visis humili in valle leonibus,
  Per prærupta, per ardua
    Sublimi volucris fertur anhelitu.

      Behold from tops of yonder hills doth come
        The blessed off-spring of’s faire mothers womb,
      The only issue of’s bright father too,
        On the thick tops o’th’ groves doth leaping goe,
      The unshorne head of _Lebanus_ so hye
        Hee leaps, and the great backs of Mountaines by,
      The stately dwellings of the woods hee skips,
        And down again with nimble foot hee trips:
      Like to a frighted, and swift running Roe.
        Beholding Lions in a vale below,
      With an amazed haste, and deep fetch’d breath
        Through uncouth places runs t’escape his death.



  Ad Egnatium Nollium.

  Æquo semper rectoq; animo, adversus fortunæ inconstantiam
  standum esse.

  _Ode 4. Lib. 3._

      To _Egnatius Nollius_.

      _That we ought to be of an even and upright mind, against
      the inconstancy of fortune._

      _Ode 4. Lib. 3._

  Sive te molli vehet aura vento,
  Sive non planis agitabit undis,
  Vince Fortunam, dubiasque _Nolli_,
        Lude per artes.
  Riserit? vultum generosus aufer.
  Fleverit? dulci refer ora risu:
  Solus, & semper tum esse quovis
        Disce tumultu.
  Ipse te clausus modereris urbem
  Consul aut Cæsar; quoties minantûm
  Turba fatorum quatient serenam
        Pectoris arcem.

      Art thou blow’n on, with gentle gale,
      Or in rough waters forc’d to sayle?
      Still conquer Fortune, make but sports
      Of her, and her uncertain Arts.
      Laughs shee? turne bravely away thy face.
      Weeps shee? bring’t back, with smiling grace:
      When shee’s most busie, be thou than
      Retyr’d, and alwayes thine own man.
      Thus close shut up, thine owne free state
      Thou best mayst rule, chiefe Magistrate;
      When the fierce Fates shall most molest,
      The serene palace of thy brest.

  Cum leves visent tua tecta casus,
  Lætus occurres: præeunte luctu
  Faustitas & pax subeunt eosdem
        Sæpe Penates.
  Dextra sors omnis gerit hoc sinistrum,
  Quòd facit molleis: habet hoc sinistra
  Prosperum, quem nunc ferit, imminenteis
        Durat in ictus.
  Ille qui longus fuit, esse magnus
  Desinit mœror, facilem ferendo
  Finge Fortunam; levis esse longo
        Discit ab usu.

      When light mischance, thy fort, or thee
      Shall visit; meet it merrily:
      Good luck, and peace, in that house stay
      Where mourning, first, hath led the way.
      In dext’rous chance, this hurt we see,
      It makes us soft: Extremity--
      This, prosperous hath, wheresoe’re it hits,
      It hardens, and for danger fits.
      The griefe that hath been of such length,
      Doth ’bate its violence and strength.
      By bearing much, make fortune frees
      Shee learnes, by custome, light to be.



  Ad Marcum Silicernium.

  Veras esse divitias, quæ à bonis animi petuntur.

  _Ode 6. Lib. 3._

  Nunquam præcipiti credulus aleæ
  Cum Fatis avidas composui manus,
  Ut mecum taciti fœdere prælii
        Aequâ pace quiescerent.
  Quid Fortuna ferat crastina, nesciam,
  Hæres ipse neci. Quas dedit, auferet,
  Non avellet opes, quæ procul extime
        Semotæ spatio jacent.
  Quæ possunt adimi, non mea credidi;
  Nunquam pauperior, si mens integer.
  Regnum, _Marce_, mei si benè de meis
        Vectigalia censibus--
  Intra me numerem. Pars animi latet
  Ingens, divitibus lætior Indiis,
  Quo non ter spatio longiùs annuo
        Itur navibus, aut equis.
  Sed mens assiduum visitur in diem
  Hospes sæpe sui; non ebur, aut novas
  Mercatura dapes, ipsa sui satis
        Dives, si sibi cernitur.


      To Marcus Silicernius.

      _That those are the true riches which are fetch’d
      from the goods of the mind._

      _Ode 6. lib. 3._

      A rash believer of their ticklish play,
        With Fates, I ne’re joyn’d greedy hands in hast.
      From the strict course of private jarres, that they
        With mee, in such an equall peace should rest.
      I know not what to morrow’s fortune brings
        Heire to my selfe alone. The wealth she gave
      Lyes in my outmost roomes, ’mongst worst of things;
        Which, without force, she may for taking have.
      Things can be ta’ne away, I ne’re thought mine;
        Not poorer I, if mine owne selfe compleat.
      I kingdome, _Marcus_, of my selfe I find
        If the great custome of mine owne estate--
      Within me I could in just numbers cast.
        A great part of my mind lyes close, more wide
      Then the rich Indyes are, to which at most
        But thrice a yeare, we can but sayle or ride.
      But my rich mind, oft to it selfe a guest,
        By its owne selfe is daily visited;
      Not ’bout to buy Toyes for a roome, or feast,
        If of its selfe it’s seen, it’s richly fed.



  _Ad Aurelium Fuscum._

  Omnia humana Caduca, incertaque esse.

  _Ode 12. Lib. 3._

  Si primum vacuis demere corticem
  Rebus. _Fusce_, velis, cetera diffluunt
  Vernæ more nivis, quæ modò nubium
        Leni tabuit halitu.
  Formosis reseces fortia; displicent.
  Externis trahimur; si malè Dardanis
  Respondens Helenæ pectus amoribus
        Famosus videat Paris;
  Nusquam per medii prælia Nerei
  Ventorumque minas splendida deferat
  Graii furta thori sed benè mutuo
        Rerum consuluit jugo
  Naturæ Dominus, quòd niveis nigra,
  Lætis occuluit tristia. Qui bona
  Rerum de vario deliget agmine,
        Consulto sapiet Deo.


      To _Aurelius Fuscus_.

      _That all humane things are fraile and uncertaine._

      Ode 12. Lib. 3.

      If the first barke, _Fuscus_, thou would’st but pare
          From empty things, the rest will flow,
          And vanish quite like vernal snow;
      Which melts away, with the mild breath o’th’ ayre.
      Valour from beauty sever’d, slowly moves.
          Meere outsides please: had _Paris_ seene
          Faire _Helens_ heart, how foule ’t had beene,
      How ill requiting to the _Trojan_ Loves,
      Ne’re, through the midst of _Nereus_ broyles, had hee
          Or the winds anger, borne away
          O’th’ Grecian bed that beauteous prey.
      But Nature’s Lord, the mutuall yoke, we see,
      Of things hath ord’red well, that black with white,
          Sad things with joyfull cov’red lye.
          And from this various mixture, hee
      The best would choose, from Heav’n must learne the right.



  _Ad Cæsarem Pausilipium._

  Regnum sapientis.

  _Ode 3. Lib. 4._

      To Cæsar Pausilipius.

      _The kingdome of a wise man._

      _Ode 3. Lib. 4._

  Latè minaces horruimus Lethi
  Regnare Thracas. Latius imperat,
    Qui solus, exemptusque vulgo
      Certa sui tenet arma voti.
  Imbelle pectus parce fidelibus
  Munire parmis; neu latus aspero
    Lorica cinctu, neu decorum
      Arcus amet pharetraque collum.

      The large-commanding Thracians wee
      Have fear’d. More large command hath hee,
      Who all alone himselfe retyres,
      And keepes sure guard o’re his desires.
      Thy unwarlike breast, with shield of proofe
      Forbeare to fortifie; throw off
      From thy unpractic’d sides the shirt
      Of Mayle, so hard about thee girt.
      Let not the Quiver and the bow
      Such homage to thy soft neck doe.

  An Cimber, an te lectus ab ultimis
  Pictus Britannis ambiat, an Geta,
    Nil allabores; ipse miles,
      Ipse tibi pugil, ipse Ductor.
  Exile regnum, _Pausilipi_, sumus:
  Sed se obsequentem qui sibi subdidit,
    Hic grande fecit, si suasmet
      Ipse roget peragatque leges.

      Whether’t bee _Dane_, or _Pict_, ta’ne out
      From farthest _Brittaine_, hems th’about
      Or _Goth_, ne’re labour much to know
      Thine owne Commander, Champion too.
      Wee are--’tis true a kingdome small;
      But, _Pausilipius_, hee that shall
      His flatt’ring selfe, t’ himselfe subdue,
      A businesse great doth undergoe;
      If his owne lawes hee can perswade,
      And doth performe them being made,

  Armata Regem non faciet cohors,
  Non tincta vulgi purpura sanguine,
    Aut nobili stellatus auro
      Frontis apex, teretique gemmâ.
  Rex est, profanos qui domuit metus:
  Qui cùm stat unus, castra sibi facit;
    Casumq; fortunamque pulchro
      Provocat assiduus duello.

      An host, makes no Kings title good,
      Nor Robes deepe dy’d in peoples blood.
      A high brow set with starrs of gold,
      Or Jems more glorious to behold.
      Hee who hath tam’d all coward feares,
      And his owne Guard himselfe prepares,
      Who practic’d, in faire combate, first
      Dares Chance and Fortune do their worst;

  Non ille vultum fingit ad improbi
  Decreta vulgi, non popularia
    Theatra, non illum trophæa,
      Non volucri movet aura plausu.
  Beatus, à quo non humilem gravis
  Fortuna vocem, non tumidam levis
    Expressit umquam curiosis
      Dum tacitus premit ora fatis.

      That man’s a King. Hee doth not faine
      His lookes to th’ votes o’th’ vulgar straine,
      The popular stage, and publike showes
      Ne’re moves him, nor the ayre that blowes
      With swift applause; Hee’s blest whose sprite
      Fall Fortune sad, or fall she light,
      Hath ne’re exprest, to th’standers by,
      A low complaint, or haughty cry;
      But, lest the curious Fates displease--
      Hee should, holds modestly his peace.

  Ad prima si quis vulnera non gemit,
  Solo peregit bella silentio:
    Celare qui novit sinistros,
      Ille potest benè ferre casus.
  Ille, & caducis se licet undi;
  Suspendat auris pontus, & in caput
    Unius & flammas, & undam, &
      Vertat agens maria omnia Auster,
  Rerum ruinas, mentis ab arduà
  Sublimis aulà, non sine gaudio
    Spectabit, & latè ruenti
      Subjiciens sua collo cælo

      At’s first wounds, who nor grones, nor quakes,
      A Conquest with his silence makes:
      Hee that mischance knowes how to hide,
      The worst of ills, can best abide.
      Hee, though the Sea should every where
      Hang up its waves i’th’ flitting ayre;
      And the rough winds on him, should presse
      Flames mix’d with billowes, nay whole Seas,
      From the high Court of’s lofty mind
      I’th’ midst o’th’ ruine, sport can find;
      Sets to his neck to th’ falling skye,

  Mundum decoro vulnere fulciet;
  Interq; cæli fragmina, lugubre
    Telluris insistet sepulchrum, ac
      Incolumis morientis ævi
  Heres, ab alto prospiciet, magis
  Hæc magnæ quam sint quæ pedibus premit,
    Quàm quæ relinquet; jam tum Olympi
      Non dubius moriturus hospes.

      And props the world most valiantly:
      To the now gasping Age safe heyre,
      Leans on the Earth’s sad sepulchre,
      Whence, ’midst the fragments of the skye,
      Hee sees most clearly from on hye,
      How much more great those things appeare,
      Hee treads on, then indeed they are,
      Being then prepar’d, and ready drest
      To dye _Olympus_ certaine guest.

  Quò cùm volentem fata reduxerint,
  Nil interest, an morbus, an hosticus
    Impellat ensis, quò supremum
      Urget itur. Semel advehemur
  Quam navigamus semper in insulam
  Seu lata magnis stravimus æquora
    Regis carinis; seu Quirites,
      Exiguâ vehimur phaselo.
  Illo beatum margine me meus
  Exponat asser. Cur ego sistere
    Aeterno reformidens quietus
      Littore, si peritura linquam?

      Where, when by th’ Fates hee’s gladly brought,
      Whether disease, it matter’s not,
      Or enemies sword, doth thrust him on,
      When his last journey he must run.
      To th’ Port wee are but once brought in
      To which w’have alwayes sayling bin:
      Whether, as mighty Princes, wee
      In gallant ships have spread the Sea;
      Or, as the common sort of men,
      In smaller Barks, have carryed been.
      May my poore bottome to that brinke
      Mee happy bring; why should I shrinke--
      Safe on th’Aeternall shore to stand,
      If with such trash I can shake hand?



  _Ad Q. Delliam._

  Non tam populari exemplo, quâm potius rationis ductu
  vitam esse instituendam.

  _Ode 10. Lib. 4._

      To Q. Dellius.

      _That our life ought not to bee instituted so much by
      popular example, as by the guiding of reason._

      _Ode 10. Lib. 4._

  Delli, si populo duce
    Vita degenerem carpimus orbitam,
  Erramus, procul arduis
    Virtus se nimium seposuit jugis.
  Illuc quò via tritior,
    Hoc est certa minùs. Longus inutili
  Error nectitur ordine:
    Et mores populum, non ratio trahit.

      Wee erre (my _Dellius_) if wee take
        That baser path of life, the people make;
      In highest and remotest Hills
        Vertue sequesters up her selfe, and dwells.
      There where the way more beaten lyes,
        Lesse certaine, and more slipp’ry alwayes ’tis.
      From fruitlesse order, errours grow;
        Custome, not reason, drawes the people now.

  Casu vivitur, & viam
    Non metam premimus, quà præeuntium
  Per vestigia civium
    Insanæ strepitus plebis, & improbæ
  Voces invidiæ vocant.
    Exemplis trahimur & trahimus retrò,
  Soli nemo sibi est malus,
    Nulli vita sua est: dum vaga postero
  Tubam turba premit gradu,
    Sunt primi exitio sæpè sequentibus.

      Men live by Chance, our time we spend
        I’th’ way, like Truants, and forget the end,
      Where ’mid’st the throng of passers by,
        The noyse of the mad rout, the hatefull cry
      Of envy, calls, wee’re drawne amaine
        B’example; others wee draw back againe;
      No man is ill to himselfe alone,
        Nor no mans life is onely call’d his owne.
      Whil’st that the rambling rout treads o’re
        With after steps, the heeles of them before,
      They that goe formost are design’d
        A mischiefe oft to those that come behind.

  Me Parnassus & integer
    Plebeiis Helicon cætibus eripit
  Sublimem; undè vagantium
    Errores animorum, & malè desidis
  Vulgi damna patent. juvat
    Ex alto intrepidum colle jacentià
  Despectare pericula, &
    Cantum non propriis vivere casibus.

      _Pernassus_, and chaste _Helicon_
        Sublimes and takes mee from the vulgar throng:
      From whence, the false mistakes I view
        And wandring mindes of the too slothfull crew;
      And from on hye I fearelesse see,
        With sport, the dangers that below me lye;
      Thus warily with joy I live,
        And by, other mens mischances I can thrive.



  _Ad Sigismundum Lætum._

  Gloriæ inanis despicientiam & silentium commendat.

  Ode 11. l. 4.

      To Sigismundus Lætus.

      _Hee Commends the despising of vaine-glory, and silence._

      Od. 11. Lib. 4.

  Læte, quid cassis sequimur fugacem
  Gloriam telis? fugit illa Mauri
  More, vel Parthi, regeritque ab ipso
        Vulnera tergo.
  Hospes unius negat esse tecti
  Garrulus vulgi favor: hîc inani
  Aure rumores legit, inde veris
        Falsa remiscet.

      Why fleeting glory follow wee,
        _Lætus_, with weapons all in vaine?
      When like a Moore, or Parthian, shee
        Flyes at her backe with wounded Trayne.
      The Talking-peoples love, denyes
        Under one roofe a guest to fix:
      With’s empty care, one takes up lyes,
        And them with truths, doth subt’ly mix,

  Hîc velut nidum positurus hæsit,
  Mox ubi vano vacuum tumultu
  Pectus illusit, tacitis in altum
        Subsilit alis,
  Vera laus sciri fugit. ipse pulcher
  Se suâ Titan prohibet videri
  Luce: qui totus potuit latere,
        Major habetur.

      Another sticks, and thinkes to build
        His nest: but when he plainly sees
      His empty breast with noise beguild,
        Aloft with silent wings, hee flees.
      True praise would not be knowne; the Sun
        Forbids from being seen below
      By his own light: and hee that can
        Ecclipse himselfe, doth brighter show.

  Qui premit sacram taciturnitate
  Pectoris gazam; benè non silenti
  Tutus in vulgo benè suspicaci
        Regnat in aulâ.
  Præterit mutas benè cymba ripas;
  Quæ simul raucis strepuêre saxis,
  In latus cautam sapiens memento
        Avertere proram.

      Hee that in silence, of his mind
        The sacred Treasury containes;
      Safety i’th’ vulgar noyse doth find:
        In’s doubtfull Court, and wisely raignes.
      Still banks thy Pinnace well may passe.
        But when with hoarse rocks they do roare,
      Remember wisely to forecast
        And turn’t aside with wary Oare.



  _Ad Ianum Libinium._

  Solitudinem suam excusat.

  _Ode 12. Lib 4._

      To Ianus Libinius.

      _Hee excuses his retyrednesse._

      _Ode 12. Lib. 4._

  Quid me latentem sub tenui lare
  Dudum moretur, cùm mihi civium
    Amica certatim patescant
      Atria, sæpe rogas _Libini_.
  Me plenus, extra quid cupiam? meo
  In memet ipsum clausus ab ostio,
    In se recedentis reviso
      Scenam animi vacuumq; relustro
  Vitæ theatrum, sollicitus mei
  Spectator, an quæ fabula prodii
    Matura procedam, & supremo
      Numinis excipienda plausu.
  Omnes recenset numen, & approbat
  Vel culpat actus: quo mea judice
    Si scena non levè peracta est,
      Sim populo sine teste felix.

      What ’tis detaines me here, and why--
      I hide my selfe from every eye.
      How in so poore a house I spend
      My houres, y’have often ask’d me, friend;
      When the free Courts of free-borne men,
      Fall out, which first shall let me in.
      I enjoy my selfe, what need I more?
      Of every sense I lock the dore;
      And close shut up, a taske I find
      In the retyring house o’th’ mind:
      The Theatre of my life I view
      My owne spectator and iudge too--
      Whether the tale I first begun
      In well digested Acts I’ue spun;
      In every scene, if every clause
      Goes neatly off, with heav’ns applause:
      Each Action scan’d, is there set free
      Or sentenc’d by authoritie--
      If there, with _well Done_ I escape,
      I’me blest without the peoples clap.

  Odi loquacis compita gloriæ
  Plebeia: quam cùm fama faventibus
    Evexit auris, sæpe misso
      Invidiæ stimulata telo,
  Aut invidentûm territa vocibus,
  Parùm obstinatis & malè fortibus
    Dimittit alis. Illa nudam
      Plangit humum, lacerosq; saxis
  Affligit artus. Me meliùs tegat
  Privata virtus, & popularia
    Numquam volaturum per ora
      Celet iners sine laude tectum.
  Semota laudem si meruit, vetat
  Audire virtus. tutiùs invidi
    Longinqua miramur: propinquis
      Lævus amat comes ire Livor.

      I hate the common road of praise,
      Or what the gaping vulgar raise,
      Which with a pleasant gale a while
      Fame hurries, but doth soone beguile:
      Now Envie’s sting it feeles, ere long
      Th’Artillery of some spightfull tongue:
      Thus chac’d, with weak’ned wings it dyes;
      Or torne, on the bare ground it lyes.
      A private fame, a meane house, where
      I live conceal’d from popular ayre,
      Best fits my mind, and shelters me:
      Vertue t’her owne praise deafe should be.
      Our emulation, things a farre off command,
      But Envy haunts things that are neere at hand.



  _Ad Cæsarem Pausilippium._

  Adversa constanti animo ferenda esse.

  _Ode 13. Lib. 4._

  Si quæ flent mala lugubres
    Auferrent oculi, Sidoniisego
  Mercarer benè lacrymas
    Gemmis, aut teretum merce monilium,
  At ceu rore seges viret,
    Sic crescunt riguis tristia fletibus.
  Urget lacryma lacrymam;
    Fecundusq; sui se numerat Dolor.
  Quem fortuna semel virum
    Udo degenerem lumine viderit,
  Illum sæpè ferit; mala
    Terrentur tacito fatæ silentio.
  Ne te, ne tua fleveris
    Quæ tu, care, vocas, _Pausilipi_, mala,
  Quam pellunt lacrymæ, fovent
    Sortem: dura negant cedere mollibus.
  Siccas si videat genas,
    Duræ cedet hebes sors patientiæ.


      To Cæsar Pausilippius.

      _That adversity is to bee endured with a constant mind._

      Ode 13. l. 4.

      If mournfull eyes could but prevent
      The evils they so much lament
      Sidonian Pearles, or Gems more rare,
      Would be too cheap for ev’ry teare.
      But moyst’ned woes grow fresh, and new,
      As Come besprinkled with the dew.
      Teare followes teare, and fruitfull griefe
      Hath from it selfe, its owne reliefe.
      The man whom Fortune doth espy
      With drooping spirit, and moyst’ned eye,
      Shee, often strikes; ill Fate, amaine
      Runs Scarr’d no notice being ta’ne.
      Bewayle not then thy selfe, deare friend,
      Or evills that on thee attend;
      What they expell, teares cherish oft;
      Hard things deny to yeild to soft.
      Mischance is conquered, when she spies
      A valiant patience with dry eyes.



  _Ad Crispum Lævinium._

  Rogatus cur sæpè per viam caneret, respondet.

  _Ode 44. Lib 4._

      To Crispus Lævinius.

      _Being asked why hee sung so often as hee travailed,
      hee answers._

      _Ode 44. Lib. 4._

  Cum meam nullis humeros onustus
  Sarcinis tecum patriam reviso
  Lætus, & parvo mihi cumque dives
        Canto viator.
  Tu siles mœstùm: tibi cura Musas
  Demit, & multi grave pondus auri.
  Quæque te quondam male fida rerum
        Turba relinquet.
  Dives est qui nil habet; illa tantùm
  Quæ potest certâ retinere dextrâ,
  Seque fert secum vaga quò, migrare
        Jussit egestas.

      As cheerefully I walke with thee,
      My shoulders from all burdens free.
      Our native soyle again to see
            Rich to my selfe I sing,
      Whil’st care strikes thee, and thy Muse dumb,
      The heavy weight of thy vast summe,
      Or what estate in time to come
            The faithlesse rout may bring.
      Hee’s rich that nothing hath; Hee that
      In’s certaine hand holds his estate,
      That makes himselfe his constant mate
            Where need commands him go;

  Quid mihi, qui nil cupiam, deesse
  Possit? umbro si placet una _Pindi_
  Vallis: ô sacrum nemus, ô jocosa
        Rura Camœna!
  Quæ meos poscet via cunq; gressus,
  Delphici mecum, mea regna, colles
  Itis, & fessum comitante circum-
        Sistitis umbrâ.
  Me Gothus sævis religet catenis,
  Me Scythes captum rapiat; solutâ
  Mente, vobiscum potero tremendos
        Visere Reges.

      What can I want, that nought desire?
      Then _Pindus_ vale, I reach no higher:
      O sacred Grove! O pleasant quire
            In those coole shades below!
      What paths soe’re my steps invite
      Ye Delphian hills, my sole delight
      Doe goe with mee; in weary plight,
            And veyle me with good grace.
      Let th’_Goth_ his strongest chaines prepare,
      The _Scythian_ hence mee captive teare,
      My mind being free with you, I’le stare
            The Tyrants in the face.



  _Ad Munatium._

  Nihil in rebus humanis non tædio plenum esse.

  _Ode 15. Lib. 4._

      To Munatius.

      _That nothing in humane affaires is not full of tediousnesse._

      Ode 15. l. 4.

  Nil est, _Munati_, nil, iterùm canam,
  Mortale, nil est, immedicabilis
    Immune tædî. Clarus olim
      Sol proavis atavisque nobis,
  Parùm salubris, nec maculâ reus
  Damnatur unâ; quicquid in arduo
    Immortale mortales _Olympo_
      Vidimus, invidiæ caducâ
  Fuscamus umbrâ. non placet incolis
  Qui Sol avitis exoritur jugis;
    Aut prisca quæ dudum paternam
      Luna ferit radiis fenestram.

      Nothing _Munatius_, nothing I sing’t againe,
      That’s mortall, nothing from th’uncured paine
          Of tediousnesse is free. The Sun
          Which bright to our forefathers shone
      To us, but little healthfull, doth appeare,
      And though not guilty of one spott, not cleare:
          Whatsoe’re immortall thing we see
          In high _Olympus_, silly wee
      Doe over-cast with Envy’s shade; here one
      From his owne native Hills the rising Sun.
          Disclaimes; or th’ancient Moone, that strikes
          Her beames through’s fathers glasse, dislikes.

  Cælo quotannis, & patriis leves
  Migramus arvis; hunc tepidæ vocant
    Brumæ Batavorum, huic aprici
      Ausoniæ placuêre soles.
  Frustrà; fideles si dominum retrò
  Morbi sequuntur, nec tacitus Dolor
    Absistit, aut Veiente curru,
      Aut Venetâ comes ire cymbâ.

      Each yeare we change our ayre, and soyle, so light;
      Him, _Hollands_ warmer Climate doth invite:
          Another differs, and doth cry
          _Ausonia_’s clearer Suns please mee.
      In vaine all this, if faithfull sicknesses
      Wait close behind; if secret griefes ne’re cease,
          All’s one, whether in Chariot
          Thou goest, or in Venetian boat.

  Tandemque nobis exulibus placent
  Relicta; certam cui posuit domum
    Virtus, huic nunquam paternæ
      Fumus erit lacrymosus aulæ.
  Virtus agresti dives in otio
  Sese ipsa claudit finibus in suis
    Plerumque, & insonti quietum
      In paleâ solium reclinat.

      Poore exiles! then, things left doe please us most,
      Who a sure building can from vertue boast,
          To him the smoke of’s father’s Hall
          Doth never hurt his eyes at all.
      Vertue oft-times, rich in a rustick ease
      Confines her selfe to her owne private blisse;
          And in the guiltlesse straw, her throne
          With great delight can leane upon.



  Ad Iesum Opt. Max.

  Ex sacro Salomonis Epithalamio.

    _Indica mihi quem diligit anima mea, ubi pascas,
    ubi cubes in meridie._

  Ode 19. Lib. 4.

  Dicebas abiens: Sponsa vale; simul
  Vicisti liquidis nubila passibus.
    Longam ducis, Jesu,
      In desideriis moram.
  Ardet iam medio summa dies polo,
  Jam parcit segeti messor, & algidas
    Pastor cum grege valleis,
      Et picta volucres petunt.
  At te quæ tacitis destinet otiis
  O Jesu regio? quis mihi te locus
    Cæcis invidet umbris,
      Aut spissâ nemorum coma?
  Scirem quo jaceas cespite languidus,
  Quis ventus gracili præflet anhelitu,
    Quis rivus tibi grato
      Somnum prætereat sono;
  Ah! nè te nimio murmure suscitent
  Nostræ diluerent flumina lacrymæ,
    Et suspiria crudis
      Miscerentur Etesiis.


      Out of _Solomon_’s sacred Marriage Song.

        CHAP. 1. 7.
        _Tell mee (ô thou whom my soule loveth) where thou feedest,
        where thou makest thy flocks to rest at noone, &c._
        παραφραστικῶς

      Od. 19. Lib. 4.

      Thou said’st, farewell my Spouse, & went’st away
      More fleet then Clouds with liquid paces stray:
        Oh what a longing, Jesu thus
          With thy delay thou mak’st in us?
      ’Tis now high noone, the scorching Sun doth burne
      I’th’ mid’st o’th’ pole, the mower spares the corne,
        The Shepheard, with his flocks, is glad--
          And painted birds, to seeke coole shade.
      But Jesu! where art thou? what region’s blest
      By holding thee so long in silent rest?
        What darksome shade denyes my love?
          Or with thick boughs what shady Grove?
      Knew I on what green Turfe thou dost repose
      Thy fainting limbs; what wind with soft breath blowes’
        What streame, with bubling, passing by
          Disturbs thy sleep, or wakens thee;
      Oh! lest the too much noise should raise thee, I
      Would let fall streams of teares should qualifie;
        My warmer sighes thou mix’d should’st find
          With the cold blasts o’th’Easterne wind.



  _Ex sacro Salomonis Epithalamio._

    En dilectus meus loquitur mihi: Surge, propera amica mea,
    columba mea, formosa mea, & veni. Iam enim hiems transiit,
    imber abiit & recessit. &c.

  _Ode 21. Lib. 4._

      Out of _Salomon_’s sacred marriage song.

        _My beloved spake and said unto mee, rise up my love,
        my Dove, my faire one, and come away; for loe the winter
        is past, the raine is over and gone: the flowers appeare
        on the earth, the time of singing of birds is come,
        and the voice of the Turtle is heard in our Land.
        The fig tree putteth forth, &c._

      _Ode 21. Lib. 4._

  Fallor? an Elysii lævâ de parte Sereni
      Me mea vita vocat!
  Surge soror, pulchris innectito lora columbis;
      Pulchrior ipsa super
  Scande rotas, Libaniq; levem de vertice currum,
      Has, age flecte domos.
  Ad tua decidu fugiunt vestigia nimbi,
      Turbidus imber abiît:
  Ipsa sub innocuis mitescunt fulmina plantis,
      Ipsa virescit hiems.

      Do I mistake? or from Elyzium cleare
          My life’s call doe I heare?
      Sister arise, and harnesse thy sweet paire
          Of Doves, thy selfe more faire;
      Mount and drive hither, here let thy Chariot stop,
          From _Libanus_ hye top;
      At thy approach the falling showres doe fly,
          Tempestuous stormes passe by,
      The lightning’s quench’d under thy harmlesse feet,
          Winter turnes Spring to see’t.

  Interea sacris aperit se scena viretis
      Sub pedibusq; tibi
  Altera floret humus, alterq; vagantia lætus
      Sidera pascit ager.
  Hic etiam trepidi pendent è rupibus hædi,
      Præcipitesq; capræ;
  Hinnuleique suis, passim dum flumina tranant,
      Luxuriantur aquis.

      While in the sacred Green, a bow’re we see
          Doth spread it selfe for thee.
      The Earth new Turff’s it selfe for thee to tread,
          The straying starrs fresh fields make glad.
      Here with their dams, of Kids th’amazed flocks
          Hang on steep sides of Rocks;
      Here as they swim, the wanton Hinds do play
          In the coole streames all day.

  It Leo cum Pardo viridis de colle Saniri
      Mitis uterque regi,
  Cumque suo passim ludunt in montibus agno
      Exsuperantque juga.
  Plurimus hos circum tacito pede labitur amnis,
      Pumicibusque cavis
  Per violas lapsæ per declives hyacinthos,
      Exspatiantur aquæ.

      The Lion with the Libard downe is l’ed
          Tame and well governed;
      Each with his Lamb about the Mountaines skip,
          O’re Hills they lightly trip.
      By these a spacious brooke doth slowly glide,
          Which with a spreading tyde
      Through bending Lilyes, banks of Violets
          From th’hollow Pumice sweats.

  Lenè fluunt rivi, muscosis lenè susurrus
      Murmurat è scopulis.
  In vitrio pisces saliunt hilares crystallo,
      Dulcè queruntur aves.
  Nec verò, si mœsta placent saletia cælo
      Flebile murmur abest:
  Nam sibi dum vestro regemunt ex orbe palumbes,
      Huc sonus ille venit.
  Sic dum se viduo solatur Carmine turtur,
      Gaudia nostra placent.

      The rivers gently flow, and a still sound
          From mossie Rocks doth bound.
      The sporting fish dance in the christall Mayne,
          The Birds sweetly complaine,
      The ayre, if dolefull comforts please, doth ring
          With mournfull murmuring.
      For when the Doves eccho each others cry
          That sound doth hither fly.
      As they with widowed notes themselves do please,
          Just so, our joyes increase.

  Cetera non desunt, pronis vindemia pendet
      Officiosa botris,
  Hîc etiam vulgò violas, albentia vulgó
      Ungue ligustra leges:
  Ipsa tibi, leti succos oblita priores,
      Mitia poma cadent:
  Ipsæ maturâ labentur ab arbore ficus,
      Percutientq; sinum.
  Intereà falcem vindemia nescit, aratrum
      Saucia nescit humus.
  Ipsæ sponte virent segetes, innoxius ipse
      Messibus albet ager.
  Præbent Hospitium platani: præbet formosos
      Graminis herba toros.

      No want appeares; th’officious Vine doth stand
          With bending clusters to our hand.
      Here, thou shalt pick sweet Violets, and there
          Fresh Lillyes all the yeare:
      The Apple ripe drops from its stalke to thee,
          From tast of death made free.
      The luscious fruit from the full Figtree shall
          Into thy bosome fall.
      Meane while, the Vine no pruning knife doth know,
          The wounded earth no plow.
      The Corne growes green alone, and th’unhurt land
          Doth white with harvest stand.
      The grasse affords a stately bed, the Plane
          Spreads thee to entertaine.

  Cædua Pãchæos sudant opobalsama nimbos;
      Et genialis odor
  Aspirat quoties, nutantibus hinc atque illinc
      Ingruit aura comit.
  Surge; quid indignos ducis per tædia soles?
      Surge, age, cara soror.
  Ecce tuis ipsæ iam circum fræna columbæ
      Ingemuêre moris.
  Huc age, formosas formosior ipsa columbas
      Hospita flecte furor.

      Arabian mists sweat from the gummy tree
          Of Balme, and all for thee;
      Which through the ayre, a rich perfume doe throw,
          Fann’d with each neighb’ring bough.
      Arise my Sister deare, why dost thou stay,
          And spend th’unwilling day?
      Behold thy harness’d Doves, at thy delay
          Doe sigh, come, drive away.
      Put on, and hither drive thy beauteous paire
          Of Doves, thy selfe more faire.



  _Ad Ianussium Skuminum._

  Cùm conjugi charissimæ justa persolveret.
    παραφραστικῶς.

  _Ode 30. Lib. 4._

      To _Ianusius Skuminus_.

      _When hee performed the Funerall obsequies of his
      most deare Wife._
        παραφραστικῶς.

      Ode 30. Lib. 4.

  Si tibi pollicitum numen, si fata fuissent
      Æternos fere conjugis annos;
  Jure per assiduos (procerum fortissime) fletus
      Ereptam quererêre, _Janussi_.
  Quem Pietas quem non moveat non tristibus unquam
      Arx animi concussa procellis
  Et pudor, & proni niveo de pectore sensus,
      Et Regina modestia morum,
  Aut bona sedulitas, aut non incauta futuri
      Præsagæ solertia montis?

       What though the Gods have promis’d she shall bee
          Enfranchis’d to Eternity?
      Yet (valiant Sir) so great a losse still cryes
          For a just tribute from your eyes;
      View but her pious mind, that tow’re of state
          Not shaken by sad stownes of Fate,
      Her humble innocent soule, her guiltlesse feare,
          Her modesty chiefe Regent there;
      The prudent thrift of her presaging mind
          Her constant zeale, pure and refin’d;
      _And who can then forbeare t’embalme her Hearse_
          _With the daily precious dew of teares?_

  Provida sed longam magnis virtutibus ævum
      Non audent promittere fata:
  Nec possunt, si quæ maturavére, profanis
      Astra diu committere terris.
  Nunc adeò parces longis onerare querelis
      Depositum repetentia magnum,
  Ingentes animi gazas, & robur, & aureo
      Incoctum benè pectus honesto.

      Tis not in Fate to promise length of dayes,
          To things of such esteeme and praise;
      Nor can the starrs suffer so ripe a birth
          To be long sullied with dull earth.
      Load not the Heavens then with unjust complaints,
          For taking back one of their Saints.
      The courage of her richly temp’red breast
          Made her for them a fitter guest:
      Such jewells of her mind sparkle about her
          The starres themselves can’t shine without her.

  Sic Tanaquil, sic quæ cunctantem Claudia rexit
      Virgineâ cervice Cybellen,
  Quæque maritali successit Thessala fato,
      Et Latiis vaga Clœlia ripis;
  Ante diem raptæ vivunt post funera, vatum
      Perpetuos in carmine fastos.
  Illa quidẽ non, si surdos ad carmina Manes
      Orpheâ testudine vincam,
  Eductas adamante fores, & ahenea rumpat
      Elysiii pomœria muri,
  Reddaturq; tibi. Stat nulli janua voto,
      Nullis exorata Poëtis.

      Thus _Tanaquil_; thus _Claudia_’s virgin band
          Steer’d the unwilling Barke to land.
      Thus shee, that durst her Husbands fate abide,
          And _Cloelia_ over _Tiber’s_ tyde;
      Too early crop’d, survive in Poesie,
          And keepe perpetuall jubilie.
      ’Tis not in Art to fetch her back againe,
          Or charme the spirits with _Orpheus_ straine,
      To breake the bars of Adamant or scale
          The Rampiers of th’Elysian wall,
      No Orisons prevaile, sent from the breast
          Of great _Apollo_’s choisest Priest.

  Sunt tamen exiles insigni in limine rimæ
      Quà possint arcana videri,
  Hæc ego si nullos fallunt insomnia maneis,
      Aut vidi, aut vidisse putavi
  Errantem campo in magno, quem gemmea circum
      Perspicuis stant mœnia portis:
  Auro prata virent; arbor crinitur in aurum;
      Crispantur violaria gemmis,
  Quæ nec Apellæus liquor, nec pulchra trigoni
      Assimulent mendacia vitri.

      Yet in the arched entrance chinks there bee,
          Which may befriend the covetous eye;
      Through these to th’hidden mysteries I peep,
          And (if the spirits nor dream, nor sleep)
      I saw, or else me thoughts, I there had seene
          Her, wandring o’re a Spacious Greene,
      With walls of Diamond, gates of purest glasse,
          No Chrystall more transparent was:
      Each blade of grasse was gold, each tree was there,
          A golden Periwig did weare.
      The swelling banks of Violets did curle
          Themselves with Gems, and Orient Pearle;
      The glorious nothing, of the _Trigon_ glasse--
          And all _Apelles_ Art, which passe.

  Centum ibi formosis in vallibus Heroïnæ
      Aeternum Pæana frequentant.
  Stant virides campo stellæ, madidisque corusca
      Connivent sibi sidera flammis.
  Illa inter medias parvo comitata nepote
      Et roseo vivacior ore,
  Ibat ovans, grandemq; sibi, grandemque nepoti
      Nectebat de flore coronam.
  Cetera me vetuit magni caligo sereni
      Mortali percurrere visu.
  Nectu plura velis; satis est, cui fata dederunt
      Aeternis mutasse caduca.

      Through the sweet vales a Quire of Damsels sing
          Eternall Pæans to their King.
      The stars with sparkling light stand round I see,
          Twinkling to their shrill melodie.
      Her and her tender darling, then I spy,
          I’th’ mid’st of that blest company;
      With looks more fresh and sweet, then are the Roses
          Of which her Garlands shee composes--
      Two flowry Chaplets, which with Gems set round
          Her owne and Nephew’s temples crown’d.
      But here a veyle was drawne, I must not prie
          Nor search too farre with mortall eye,
      Nor would you more. It may suffice that shee
          Hath chang’d fraile flesh for blest Eternitie.



  _Ad Albertum Turscium._

  De suis somniis & lyricis.

  _Ode 32. Lib. 4._

      To _Albertus Turscius_.

      _Of his Dreames, and Lyricks._

      _Ode 32. Lib. 4._

  _Tursci_, seu brevior mihi
      Seu pernox oculos composuit sopor,
  Pennas Somnia lævibus
      Affigunt humeris; jamque virentia
  Latus prata superuolo,
      Quà se cumque novum mollè tumentibus
  Campis explicuit nemus,
      Herbosæque patet scena superbiæ:
  Mox & nubibus altior,
      Mistus flumineis ales oloribus;
  Vivos despicio lacus,
      Et dulci volucrem carmine mentior.

      VVhether a shorter sleep, or whether
        A long one (_Turscius_) joyns mine eyes together
      In my soft dreames, me thinks, I see
        To my light shoulders wings set on, and I
      With joy transported, upward soare,
        The flowry Meddowes, and the pastures o’re;
      Where the greene Grove its coole shade yeilds
        To th’stately grasse plotts, and ripe swelling fields:
      Straight, ’mid’st the river Swans, up hyer
        A winged fowle above the cloudes I’aspire;
      The lively Lakes below, I sleight,
        And with sweet straines a bird I counterfeit.

  Jam tunc nubila, jam mihi
      Blandis dissiliunt fulmina cantibus;
  Et quæ plurima circuit
      Collum, puniceâ vincior Iride.
  Idem jam vigil, & meus,
      Non ingrata simul somnia dispuli,
  Cùm ter mobilibus lyram
      Percussi digitis, immemor & ducis
  Nil sectator Horatii,
      Sublimis liquidum nitor in aëra;
  Et nunc littera, nunc vagas
      Siccis trajiciens passibus insulas,
  Nil mortale mei gero, &
      Jam nil sollicito debeo ponderi.

      See, now me thinkes, the cloudes in throngs
        The lightning leaps too, at my ravishing songs;
      _Iris_ about my neck hangs round,
        And with her divers colour’d bow, I’me bound.
      Being now my selfe, and newly wak’d,
        My not unwelcome dreames, just now off shak’d;
      Thrice o’re my Lute, I scarce had run
        With nible finger neat division;
      Remembring _Horace_, Thee, my guide,
        When my high Genius through th’ayre doth ride;
      Now o’re the scatt’red Islands, then
        O’re Seas, with dry feet passing back again;
      Nothing that’s mortall of mee, now
        I beare, and nought to my dull bulke I owe.

  _Tursci_, sæpè tamen mones
      Olim ne veteri clarior Icaro
  Veris fabula casibus
      Mutem Parrhasii nomina Balthiri.
  Frustra; nam memor Icari,
      Addo stultitiæ consilium brevi:
  Nam, seu dormio, me torus;
      Seu scribo, stabili sella tenet situ.

      Yet _Turscius_ thou hast often told,
        And warn’d mee, lest then _Icarus_ of old
      By a true fall indeed, I make
        A lowder tale, and change the name o’th’Lake.
      In vaine: Remembring Him, I had
        A care, and counsell, to my folly, add:
      For when I sleep, in bed I lye,
        And if I write, my secure chaire holds mee.



  Ad Quintum Tiberinum.

  Ode 34. Lib. 4.

  Divitem numquam, _Tiberine_, dices,
  Cuius Eois potiora glebis
  Rura, fortunæ sine fæce pulcher
        Rivus inaurat;
  Quem per insigneis geniale ceras
  Stemma claravit; vaga quem per urbes
  Quem per & gentes radiante vexit
        Gloria curru.
  Pauper est, qui se caret; & superbè
  Ipse se librans, sua rura latam
  Addit in lancem, socioq; fallens
        Pondus in auro,
  Ceteris parvus, sibi magnus uni,
  Ipse se nescit, pretioque falsa
  Plebis attollit, propriaq; se mi-
        ratur in umbrâ.
  Splendidam verâ sine luce gazam,
  Turgidum plenâ sine laude nomen
  Mitte; te solo, _Tiberine_, disces
        Esse beatus.


      To _Quintus Tiberinus_.

      _Ode 34. Lib. 4._

      Thou shalt not _Tiberinus_, call
      Him rich, whose every Acre shall
      Outvie the Easterne glebe, whose field
      Faire Fortune’s clearest streame doth gild.
      Nor him, whose birth, and pedigree
      Is fam’d abroad by’s Heraldrie;
      Hee who by fleeting glory’s hurld
      In his rich Chariot through the world:
      He’s poore that wants himselfe, yet weighs
      Proudly himselfe; in this scale layes
      His lands, in th’other broad one, by,
      The false weight of his gold doth lye,
      Great to himselfe, to others small,
      That never knowes himselfe at all,
      As the false people raise him higher,
      Himselfe in’s shadow hee’l admire.
      The fairest Gemme without true light,
      Without true praise great titles, flight:
      Blest _Tiberinus_, and most free
      In thy selfe alone thoul’t learne to bee.



  Ad Paulum Coslovium.

  _Ode 35. Lib. 4._

      To _Paulus Coslovius_.

      _Ode 35. Lib. 4._

  Iam pridem tepido veris anhelitu
  Afflarunt reduces arva Favonii;
    Jam se florida vernis
      Pingunt prata coloribus:
  Stratus frugiferis Vilia puppibus
  Grato præter abit rura silentio,
    Quamvis proximus omni
      Collis personet alite;
  Quamvis & viridi pastor ab aggere
  Dicat gramineâ carmina fistulâ.
    Et qui navita debet
      Plenis otia carbasis.

      The Westerne winds, with the warm breath o’th’Spring,
      Returne, and o’re our fields their soft gales fling;
        The flowry-garnish’d Meadowes by,
          With freshest colours painted lye.
      The River, which the gainfull ships so throng,
      With welcome silence gently glides along,
        Although the neighbouring Hill doth ring
          With the shrill notes of birds that sing;
      Although the Swaine, on the green bank that sits
      Old Sonnets with his Oaten Pipe repeats,
        Although the Seaman doth not faile
          At length to strike his full blowne sayle.

  Æquat Palladiis, _Paulle_, laboribus
  Interpone vices. Cras simul aureo
    Sol arriserit ore
      Summorum juga montium,
  Scandemus viridis terga Luciscii,
  Quà celsâ tegitur plurimus ilice,
    Et se prætereuntûm
      Audit murmura fontium.
  Illinc è medio tota videbitur
  Nobis Vilna jugo; tota videbitur
    Quæ Vilnam sinuosis
      Ambit Vilia flexibus.

      To thy _Palladian_ labours interpose
      Such changes _Paullus_; when the Sun forth showes
        And with his golden presence smiles
          On the hye tops of highest Hills,
      Wee’l mount the back of green _Luciscus_, where
      Hee’s thickest set with tallest Okes, and heare
        The bubbling noise of streames that flow
          From Fountaines that close by him goe.
      Thence from the midst o’th’hill all _Vilna_ shall
      Our prospect be; our eye shall lower fall--
        On _Vilia_’s cooler streames, that wind,
          And with embraces _Vilna_ bind.

  Illinc picta procul quæ radiantibus
  Fulgent fana tholis, & geminam super
    Despectabimus arcem,
      Magni regna Palæmonis.
  Ut longo faciles Pacis in otio
  Se tollunt populi! nam tria tertio
    Surrexêre sub anno
      Priscis templa Quiritibus;
  Et quà conspicuis se Gediminia
  Jactant saxa jugis, & Capitolium,
    Et quæ tecta superbis
      Intrant nubila turribus.

      From thence, farre off, the Temples wee’l behold,
      And radiant Scutcheons all adorn’d with gold;
        Then wee’l looke o’re that double towre,
          Th’extent of great _Palæmon_’s pow’re.
      How in a settled peace, and kingdomes rest
      The easie people raise themselves, so blest!
        Three Temples in three yeares w’have seen
          To th’Citizens have reared been;
      Where _Gediminian_ Rocks themselves extoll
      With their plaine tops, and then the Capitol,
        Those buildings, whose proud turrets stretch
          Themselves to th’Cloudes, and stars doe reach:

  Auget magna, Quies: exiguus labor
  In majus modico provenit otio.
    Hinc & terga virentûm
      Latè prospice collium.
  Quæ nunc mobilibus nutat Etesiis,
  Segni cana stetit sub nive populus:
    Qui nunc defluit, altà
      Hæsit sub glacie latex:
  Qui nunc purpureis floret ager rosis,
  Immoto sterilis delituit gelu:
    Verno quæ strepit ales,
      Hiberno tacuit die.
  Ergò rumpe moras, & solidum gravî
  Curæ deme diem, quem tibi candidus
    Spondet vesper, & albis
      Cras Horæ revehent equis.

      Great things to greater growth doe thus increase,
      And with least paines, improve themselves by peace.
        Here, tops of Hills, themselves behold,
          In all their flowry pride unfold.
      The Poplar now that shakes, when th’East winds blow
      Stood cloth’d in gray, under the ling’ring snow:
        The Springs that now so nimbly rise,
          Were all of late lock’d up, in Ice:
      The fields that now with blushing Roses spread,
      Lay barren, and in hardest frost all hid:
        The birds which chirping sit i’th’Spring;
          When Winter comes, forget to sing.
      Breake off delayes then, and from grievous care
      A constant day, set by; which th’ev’ning faire
        Doth promise, and the next dayes Sun
          With his white Steeds will freely run.



  [Decoration]

  _Ad Paulum Iordanum Vrsinum Bracciani Ducem._
  Bracciani agri amœnitatem commendat, ad quam per ferias Septembres
  secesserat Româ.

  _Ode 1. Lib. Epod._

          [Decoration]

          To _Paulus Iordanus Vrsinus_, Duke of _Bracciano_.
          Hee commends the pleasantnesse of the Countrey, where
          in the feasts of _September_, he retyred from _Rome_.

          _Ode 1. Lib. Epod._

  Huc ô quietis apta Musis otia,
    Levesque Ludorum chori;
  Huc feriantûm Phœbe Musarum pater,
    Huc hospitales Gratiæ;
  Huc delicatis ite permisti Jocis
    Non inverecundi Sales:
  Hîc otiosi mite Bracciani solum
    Vago coronemus pede.

      Appeare ye spritefull Quire with choicest sports,
        All pastime fit for _Phœbus_ Courts;
      And Thou great Master of the Revels, joyne
        The Graces, to thy Daughters nine;
      Witt pure and quaint, with rich conceits and free
        From all obscæne scurrilitie:
      Here free from care, nimbly let’s dance a round
        Upon _Bracciano_’s softer ground.

  Clemens supino clivus assurgit jugo,
    Cælumq; paulatim subit,
  Et solida subter terga scopulorum arduo
    Securus insessu premit:
  Arcisq; jactat inter alta turrium
    Insigne propugnacula,
  Timenda quondam Cæsarum turmis ducum,
    Timenda magno Borgiæ,
  Cùm per minantûm militum aratos globos
    Metuenda jaceret fulmima,
  Ageretque profugum Cæsarem, & quassum metu;
    Adusque promissum _Nihil_.

      A gentle Cliffe from a steep Hill doth rise
        That even to Heaven, mounts by degrees,
      And safe, with uncouth passage, leanes upon
        The solid backs, of Rocks and stone:
      Whence ’mid’st the Bulwark’d Forts, we may descry
        A displayd Banner from on hye,
      Which to th’Imperiall force a terrour was,
        A terrour to great _Borgias_,
      When through the brasen troops of’s threatning foes,
        His fearfull thunder-bolts he throwes,
      Pursuing routed _Cæsar_, whom he brought
        To that he promis’d him, to _nought_.

  Hîc ille magnus frænat Etruscas opes
    _Ursinus_ Heroum decus,
  Hæres avitæ laudis, & princeps caput
    Magnæq; laus Oenotriæ.
  Circùm coruscis scena quercetis viret,
    Cælumque verrit frondibus,
  Suoque colles vestit, & patentibus
    Sese theatris explicat.
  Admota muris ponè Nympharum domus
    Aprica præbet littora:
  Ripamque Baccho jungit, & vallum propè.
    Lentis flagellat fluctibus.

      Great _Ursin_ here puts reynes toth’_Tuscan_ pow’re
        The grace of _Heroes_ and the flow’re;
      Heire to his father’s worth, chiefe guide and stay
        And praise of great _Oenotria_.
      A Bow’re growes green, set round with trembling Okes
        Which fanns the Heavens with gentle strokes.
      It clothes the Hills, and spreads it selfe all over
        To th’open Theaters a cover.
      Close joyn’d to th’walls, the Nymphs coole Arbour stands,
        Which to the Sunny shore commands;
      By these a banke of Vines, which th’neighbour Trench
        With milder waves doth daily drench.

  Majore nusquam stagna Neptuno sonant,
    Aut æstuantis Larii,
  Aut qui severo tangit Albanus lacu
    Inenatabilem Styga:
  Aut quæ procellis gaudet, & magno fremit
    Superba ponto Julia:
  Nec major usquam spumat, & rupes truci
    Benacus assultat salo.
  Intonsa curvo monte circumstant juga,
    Mitesque despectant aquas.

      Nowhere the Lakes with fuller Sea doth roare,
        Either of _Larius_ that boyles o’re,
      Or rough _Albanus_ whose troubled waves doe mix
        With the unnavigable Styx:
      Not stormy _Julia_, when her swelling pride
        Most rageth in her highest tyde:
      _Benacus_ doth not raise more froth, when he
        Assaults the rocks with fiercest Sea.
      With rugged tops the bending mountaines round
        Upon the slow calme streames looke downe.

  Nivosus illinc terga Romanus movet,
    Cæloque diducit minas:
  Illinc caducis ilicem quassat comis
    Sublime Cymini caput:
  Crudumque Boream frangit impotentibus
    Depræliaturum Notis,
  Terrisque latè regnat, & cæli minis
    Opponit hibernum latus.

      _Romanus_ here his snowy back up-reares.
        And drawes downe envy from the starres:
      The lofty head of _Cyminus_ here shakes
        The Oke with trembling leaves which quakes,
      And holds off _Boreas_, when his rawer blasts
        ’Gainst the weake Southerne winds he casts,
      Commands the Country farre, and out he sets
        His Winter sides against Heavens threats.

  Amica sternit interim lacum quies,
    Fluctusque fluctu nititur,
  Et ipsa secum pigra luctatur Thetis,
    Aquæque colludunt aquis:
  Quas vel carinâ, vel citata turgido
    Findit phaselus linteo:
  Pinnâque latè vitreum cogens pecus
    Velente lino truditur,
  Setâque piscem ducit, & raris procul
    Lacum coronat retibus.

      Meane while a pleasant calme doth smooth the Lake,
        The waves ’gainst one another breake,
      Mild _Thetis_ selfe, with her own selfe finds sport,
        And waters doe the waters court:
      Through which a ship doth cut, with pleasant gales,
        Or nimble Barke with swelling sayles:
      The large-fin’d Chrystall cattell as they goe
        Are forced whether they will or no
      With ready dragnet; then with lines of haire
        They round the Lake, or Nets more rare.

  Hinc alta lucet divitis Pollæ domus,
    Hinc pinguis Anguilaria:
  Trebonianas hinc amica vineas
    Vadosa plangunt æquora:
  Hinc delicati fundus Aurelî nitet,
    Lymphæ salutarîs pater:
  Undàque morbos arcet, & vivacibus
    Lucem fluentis eluit.

      Rich _Polla’s_ stately house there shines, and here
        Full stored Fish-ponds doe appeare:
      The friendly Foords which toward the Sea doe lye
        Water _Trebonian_ Vineyards by;
      Here neat _Aurelius_ farme looks gay, chiefe Lord
        And Master of that healthfull Foord,
      Whose water cures diseases, whose quick springs
        Doe purge out all infectious things.

  At quà superbum fontibus nomen dedit
    Suumque Flora marginem,
  Vivis perennes decidunt saxis aquæ,
    Camposque decursu lavant,
  Patremque longè Tybrin, & regem sonant,
    Romæque servitum fluunt.
  Sincera circùm regna naturæ nitent;
    Et artis immunes loci:
  Adhucque virgo sulcus, & montes adhuc
    Molleis inexperti manus,
  Meramque Bacchus Tethyn, & Bacchum Thetis,
    Et pinguis invitat Ceres.

      Where _Flora_ makes the banks, and gives the name
        To Fountaines, proud of so much fame;
      From lively stones perpetuall waters flow,
        And wash the fields wheresoe’re they goe,
      Their father _Tyber_, and their King they found
        And flow to _Rome_, with homage bound.
      Nature doth purely there advance each part,
        Not any place is help’d by Art:
      As yet the virgin furrow, th’Hills yet stand
        Untouch’d, by any tender hand.
      Chast _Tethys_, _Bacchus_ courts, _Thetis_ doth woo
        _Bacchus_ againe, and _Ceres_ too.

  Hinc ille lætus surgit, & tenacibus
    Inserpit ulmis Evius,
  Udoque cornu turget, & fluentibus
    Crinem racemis impedit.
  Non Lesbos illi, non odorati magis
    Vineta rident Massici,
  Aut quæ Falernis educata solibus
    Sublucet uvæ purpura.

      Hence _Evius_ cheerfull rises, and doth twine
        With th’Elme, that closely clings toth’ Vine,
      With’s plenteous horne he swells, his locks hang by--
        With flowing Clusters tangled lye.
      Not _Lesbos_ him, nor the sweet smelling grace,
        Of rich _Campania_’s fruitfull race
      Delights; the purple Grape not so faire showes,
        In the _Falernian_ sun that growes.

  Sed nec Falisci glaream malit soli,
    Nec pinguis uber Rhætiæ;
  Nec flava tantùm culta felicis Cypri,
    Graiámve dilexit Rhodon:
  Quantùm suis superbit, & sese suis
    Miratur in canalibus.
  Circùm beatis imperat campis Ceres.
    Lateque rura possidet:
  Et arva flavo messium fluctu tument,
    Motuque culmorum natant.

      Hee’l not preferre _Faliscus_ sandy ground,
        Nor _Rhætia_, that doth so abound;
      The yellow Tilths of happy _Cyprus_, hee
        Ne’re lov’d so much, nor _Rhodos_ by:
      As in his owne -- in his owne channells hee
        Hugging himselfe, doth proudly lye.
      Sole Empresse _Ceres_ of the fertile lands
        Whose large possessions shee commands:
      The fields with yellow waves doe ebbe and flow,
        The ripe eares swim, when winds doe blow.

  Innube rarus inquinat cælum vapor,
    Aut tensa nimbis vellera:
  Aut è Boreis bella ventorum plagis,
    Raucusque silvarum fragor
  Auditur usquam: non protervis insonant
    Exercitati Syrtibus,
  Euris & Austris contumaces Africi,
    Et perduellibus Notis.
  Tantùm serenus Vesper, & tenerrima
    Etesiarum flamina.

      No vapour, here, Heavens cleared face doth staine,
        No clowdy fleece stretch’d out with raine:
      The Northerne blasts are still, and all at peace,
        And the hoarse noise o’th’ woods doth cease:
      The stubborne _Africke_ winds that use to stray
        About th’unruly sandy Sea,
      Are all hush’d up, and no Alarum sound
        To th’other winds, entrenched round;
      Onely the Evening faire, a gentle gale
        Of winds that each year never faile:

  Albique soles, & serena lucidis
    Aspirat aura montibus:
  Puramque cælo provehunt Horæ facem,
    Et Phœbus Horarum pater
  Peculiari luce colles irrigat,
    Pronáque perfundit die.
  Ramis tepentes ingruunt Favonii
    Jocantis auræ sibilo,
  Et temperatis provocant suspiriis,
    Leniq; somnum murmure.

      The bright Sun darting through th’enlightned Ayre
        His beames, doth guild the Moutaines cleare,
      The houres drive on heav’ns torch, that shine so bright,
        And _Phœbus_ father of the light--
      With a peculiar influence bedewes
        The Hills all o’re, when night ensues.
      The warme _Favonian_ winds with whistling gale
        Doe merrily the boughs assaile,
      And with their temperate breath, and gentle noise,
        Sweet pleasing slumbers softly raise.

  At non loquaces interim nidi tacent,
    Matresque nidorum vagæ.
  Sed aut maritis turtur in ramis gemit,
    Et saxa rumpit questibus,
  Aut læta latè cantibus mulcet loca
    Famosa pellex Thraciæ.
  Silvisq; coram plorat, & crudelibus
    Accusat agris Terea:
  Quæcumque mœsta vocibus dicunt aves,
    Respondet argutum nemus,
  Affatur alnum quercus, ornum populus,
    Affatur ilex ilicem,
  Et se vicissim collocuta redditis
    Arbusta solantur sonis.

      The prateling Nests meane while no silence keep,
        Their wandring guests ne’re sleep.
      To’s mate, the Turtle ’mong’st the branches grones,
        And with complaints breakes hardest stones,
      The Nightingale, the pleasant Groves about
        Refresheth, with her warbling note,
      Bewayles her losse to th’woods, i’th’ cruell fields
        ’Gainst _Tereus_ her cryes shee yeilds:
      And what the mournfull birds doe so complaine,
        The shrill woods answer back againe.
      The Oke, the Alder tells; the Poplar tree
        The Ash; and that, the Elme stands by.
      The Groves rejoyce with th’Eccho they afford
        And tell them backe--ev’n word for word.

  Huc ô Quiritûm ductor, huc Oenotriæ
    O magne regnator plagæ
  _Jordane_, tandem plenus urbis & fori,
    Rerumque magnarum satur,
  Sepone curis temet, & domesticis
    Furare pectus otiis.
  Hic vel tuarum lene tranabis vadum
    Opacus umbris arborum,
  Tuosque colleis inter, & tuas procul
    Perambulabis ilices:

      _Jordanus_ here, hither thy selfe command,
        Great Ruler of th’_Oenotrian_ land.
      Withdraw thy selfe from cares, from all resort
        So cloy’d with’ Citie, and with Court,
      So full of great affaires, at length thy breast
        Convey to thy domestick rest.
      Here thou may’st passe thy Foord, in gloomy shade,
        On each side, by thine owne trees made,
      And here between thy Mounts, with tall Okes set,
        A large walke thou shalt get:

  Vel cum Decembri campus, & prima nive
    Vicina canescent juga;
  Nunc impeditas mollibus plagis feras,
    Silvamq; præcinges metu:
  Nunc incitato capream rumpes equo,
    Teloque deprendes aprum;
  Jactoq; cervos collocabis spiculo,
    Furesq; terrebis lupos.
  Quid si Latinæ laus _Alexander_ plagæ,
    Sacræque sidus purpuræ,
  Tecum paterno feriabitur solo,
    Seseq; curis eximet;
  Tuique cives, hospitesq; civium
    Toto fruemur gaudio.

      Or in _December_, when the fields looke white,
        And th’Hills, with the earlyest snow doth light;
      Sometime th’entangled game, with twining nett
        I’th’ wood, with feare thou shalt besett:
      Sometimes with courser fleet, pursue full sore,
        The Buck thou mayst, sometimes the Bore;
      With thy thrown dart the red Deer thou shalt stick.
        And th’frighted ravenous Wolves shalt strick,
      And if that Starre o’th’ sacred dignity
        The glory of all _Italy_,
      Will also from his cares, himselfe make free,
        And keepe his Festivals with thee;
      Each Citizen of thine, and every guest
        With the compleatest joy is blest.



  _Ad fontem Sonam._

  In patrio fundo, dum Româ rediisset.

  Ode 2. Lib. Epod.

  Fons innocenti lucidus magis vitro
    Purâque purior nive,
  Pagi voluptas, una Nympharum sitis,
    Ocelle natalis soli.
  Longis viarum languidus laboribus
    Et mole curarum gravis
  Thuscis ab usque gentibus redux, tibi
    Accline prosterno latus:
  Permitte siccus, quà potes, premi; cavâ
    Permitte libari manu.
  Sic te quietum nulla perturbet pecus,
    Ramusvè lapsus arbore:
  Sic dum loquaci prata garritu secas,
    Et lætus audiri salis;
  Assibilantes populetorum comæ
    Ingrata ponant murmura
  Tibi, lyræq; Vatis: haud frustrà sacer
    Nam si quid _Urbanus_ probat,
  Olim fluenti leuè Blandusiæ nihil
    Aut Sirmioni debeas.


      To the Fountaine Sona,

      _When hee returned._

      _Ode 2. Lib. Epod._

      O Fount more cleare then spotlesse glasse,
        More pure, then purest snow e’re was,
      The Nymphs desire, and Countries grace,
        Thou joy of this my Native place.
      Tyr’d with a tedious journey, I,
        And press’d with cares that grievous lye,
      From the farre _Tuscan_ Land made free
        Thus low I bow my selfe to thee:
      Oh, if thou canst, vouchsafe to bee
        Press’d, and with hollow palme drawne dry.
      So let thy peace no wandring beast
        Disturb, no broken bough, thy rest:
      So when thou cutt’st with prattling noise
        The Meads, and leap’st, men heare thy voice;
      May th’whistling leaves of Poplar trees
        With their unwelcome murmurs cease--
      To thee, and thy Priests Lute: if nought
        _Urban_ approves, in vaine is thought
      T’_Blandusia_ thou canst nothing owe;
        Nor to milde flowing _Sirmio_.



  Palinodia
  Ad secundam libri Epodon Odam _Q. Horatii Flacci_.

  _Laus otii Religiosi._

  _Ode 3. Lib. Epod._

      A Palinode
      To the second Ode of the booke of Epodes of _Q. H. Flaccus_.

      _The praise of a Religious Recreation._

      _Ode 3. Lib. Epod._

  At ille, _Flacce_, nunc erit beatior
    Qui mole curarum procul
  Paterna liquit rura, litigantium
    Solutus omni jurgio;
  Nec solis æstum frugibus timet suis,
    Nec sidus hiberni Jovis,
  Rixasq; vitat, & scelesta curiæ
    Rapacioris limina.
  Ergo aut profanis hactenus negotiis
    Amissa plorat sidera;
  Aut in reductâ sede dispersum gregem
    Errantis animi colligit,
  Postquam beatæ lucra conscientiæ
    Quadrante libravit suo.

      But, _Flaccus_, now more happy he appeares,
        Who, with the burthen of his cares,
      Farre off hath left his father’s ground, set free
        From the fierce wrangling Lawyer’s fee;
      No scorching heat, nor blasts of Winter _Jove_,
        Doth hurt his fruit, or him can move:
      Hee shuns all strifes, and never doth resort
        The sinfull gates o’th’ greedy Court.
      But either doth bewayle those dayes and nights,
        Lost by him in prophane delights;
      Or else retyr’d, strives to collect and find
        The dispers’d flock of’s wandring mind;
      Having first fairly pois’d the recompence
        And gaines of a good conscience.

  Idem, propinquâ nocte, stellatas vigil
    Cùm vesper accendit faces,
  Ut gaudet immortale mirari jubar,
    Terrâque majores globos,
  Et per cadenteis intueri lacrymas
    Rimosa lucis atria,
  Quæ Christe tecum, virgo quæ tecum colat
    Perennis hæres sæculi!
  Volvuntur aureis interim stellaæ rotis,
    Pigrumque linquunt exulem,
  Per ora cujus uberes eunt aquæ,
    Somnos quod avertat graveis.

      At evening, when the harbinger of night
        The torches of the sky doth light,
      How he admires th’immortall rayes breake forth,
        And their bright Orbes, more large then earth;
      How through his trickling teares, he heips his fight,
        Unto the open Courts of light,
      Which with thy selfe, ô Christ, thy selfe in pray’r
        He’ Adores, t’Eternall life an heire!
      The Starres with golden wheeles, are hurried by,
        And let their prostrate exile lye,
      Over whose face, the plenteous teares doe stray,
        Which chase all drowsie sleepe away;

  At quando lotum Gangis aut Indi fretis
    Jam Phœbus attollit caput,
  Mentis profundus, & sui totus minor
    Irata flectit numina:
  Vel cum sereno fulserit dies Jove,
    Aprilibusque feriis,
  Assueta cælo lumina, in terras vocat
    Lateq; prospectum jacit,
  Camposq; lustrat, & relucentem suâ
    Miratur in scenâ _Deum_.

      Assoone as _Phœbus_ head begins t’appeare,
        Lately in _Indus_ streames made cleare,
      From depth of soule, lesse then himselfe he lies,
        And bends the angry pow’rs with cryes:
      Or when the Sun shines cleare, the aire serene,
        And _Aprill_ Festivals begin,
      His eyes, so us’d to Heaven, he downe doth throw,
        On a large prospect here below:
      He viewes the fields, and wondring stands to see
        In’s shade the shining Deitie.

  En omnis inquit, herba non morantibus
    In astra luctatur comis:
  Semota cælo lacrymantur, & piis
    Liquuntur arva fletibus;
  Ligustra canis, & rosæ rubentibus
    Repunt in auras brachiis;
  Astrisque panda nescio quid pallido
    Loquuntur ore lilia,
  Et serò blandis ingemunt suspiriis,
    Et manè rorant lacrymis.
  Egóne solus, solus in terris piger
    Tenace figor pondere?

      See how (saies he) each herb with restlesse leaves
        To th’ starres doth strive and upward heaves:
      Remov’d from heaven they weep, the field appeares
        All o’re dissolv’d in pious teares:
      The white-flowr’d Woodbine, and the blushing Rose
        Branch into th’aire with twining boughs;
      The pale-fac’d Lilly on the bending stalke,
        To th’starres I know not what doth talke;
      At night with fawning sighes they’expresse their fears
        And in the morning drop downe teares.
      Am I alone, wretch that I am, fast bound
        And held with heavy weight, to th’ground?

  Sic & propinquas allocutus arbores,
    Et multa coram fontibus
  Rivisque fatus, quærit Auctorem _Deum_
    Formosa per vestigia.
  Quod si levandas mentis in curas vigil
    Ruris suburbani domus,
  Quales Lucisci, vel Nemecini Lares,
    Udumvè Besdani nemus
  Rudeis adornet rusticâ mensas dape
    Siccos sub Augusti dies;

      Thus spake he to the neighbouring trees, thus he
        To th’Fountaines talk’d, and streames ran by,
      And after, seekes the great Creator out
        By these faire traces of his foot.
      But if a lightsome Country house that’s free
        From care, such as _Luciscu’s_ bee,
      Or _Nemicini’s,_ if _Besdan_’s fruitfull field
        Can Grace to his rude table yeild,
      To his plaine board with country dainties set,
        In _August_’s dry and parching heat;

  Jam tunc sub ipsum limen, aut domesticâ
    Lenis sub umbrâ populi,
  Expectat omnis hospitem suum penses,
    Et concha sinceri salis,
  Pressiq; meta lactis, & purus calix,
    Et hospitalis amphora,
  Et fraga, raris verna quæ dumis legit,
    Jucunda panis præmia.
  Non me scari tunc, non Lucrinorum gravis
    Sagina mulorum juvet:
  Sed cereus palumbus, aut turtur niger;
    Aut anser amnis accola,
  Et eruditam quæ fugit gulam faba,
    Lætumque nec simplex olus,
  Et quæ suprema colligitur, ac gravi
    Patella nil debet foro.

      Even at his dore, under a private shade
        By a thick pleasant Poplar made,
      Provision of all sorts, expect their guest,
        A shell with salt, pure and the best,
      New bread, for which, ’midst the thin bryars, the Mayd
        Picks Strawberries, and’s gladly payd.
      Cheese newly press’d, close by, the friendly Cann
        With Cup cleane wash’d, doth ready stan’.
      With me the _Lucrine_ dainties will not downe,
        The Scare, nor Mullet that’s well growne;
      But the Ring-dove plump, the Turtle dun doth looke,
        Or Swan, the sojourner o’th’ brooke,
      A messe of Beanes which shuns the curious pallet,
        The cheerfull and not simple sallet;
      Clusters of grapes last gathered, that misse
        And nothing owe to th’weighty presse.

  Post hæc vel inter læta quercetis juga,
    Vel inter amneis juverit
  Vitare tristeis post meridiem Notos
    Sub æsculo vel ilice;
  Nigrumvè littus, aut opaca lubricis
    Tranare stagna lintribus,
  Jactâque fruge ludibundum ducere
    Tremente piscem lineâ.
  Remugit ingens interim tauris nemus,
    Umbrosa balant flumina;
  Et aut in antris garriunt acanthides,
    Aut in rubis luscinia.

      Then after noone he takes a kind of pride
        To th’Hills to walke, or River side,
      And ’midst the pleasant Okes, a shade doth find,
        T’avoyd the blasts o’th’ Southern wind;
      To th’darksome shore, by the deep poole he goes,
        And through, with nimble Boat he rowes;
      Sometimes the sporting fish, his baite thrown in,
        Hee plucks up with his trembling line.
      Meane while th’ spacious woods with ecchoing note
        Doe answer to the Bulls wide throat,
      The shady rivers bleat; the Nightingale
        I’th’ bushes chirps her dolefull tale.

  Hinc per rubeta pastor errantes capras
    Vocante cogit fistulâ:
  Illinc herili messor è campo redux
    Alterna plaudit carmina;
  Et pressa sectos plaustra per sulcos gemunnt
    Ruptura ruris horrea.
  At nec tacemus ponè considentium
    Dulcis manus sodalium;
  Nec infacetâ sermo differtur morâ,
    Sed innocentibus jocis,
  Multoq; tinctus, sed verecundo sale,
    Innoxium trahit dîem.
  Hæc si videret fænerator Alphius,
    Olim futurus rusticus,
  Quam collocarat Idibus pecuniam,
    Nollet Kalendis ponere.

      With’s hastning pipe the sheapheard drives away
        His flocke, which through the thickets stray:
      To which as from the field they passe along,
        Each mower sings by course, his song;
      O’re yeilding furrowes, carts full press’d with corne
        Groane, and are like to breake the barne.
      Our worke once done, we doe not silent sit,
        When knots of our good fellowes meet;
      Nor is our talke prolong’d with rude delay;
        In harmlesse jests we spend the day;
      Jests dip’d in so much salt, which rubbing shall
        Onely make fresh our cheeks, not gall.
      If that rich churle, this had but seen, when hee
        A Country man began to be,
      The money which i’th’ Ides hee scraped in
        Next month hee’d not put out agen.



  [Decoration]

  _Epig._ 4. _Ex Lib. Ep._

  Veniat delectus meus in hortum suum. _Cant._ 5.

  Pulcher Amor sumpsit rudis instrumenta coloni,
    Et sua deposuit tela suasque faces:
  Et manibus stivam rapuit; castique laboris
    Ad sua ruricolas junxit aratra boves.
  Ilicet, ut facili subvertit vomere corda,
    Castaque virginibus Gratia crevit agris;
  Flos, ait, unus abest: sunt cetera millia florum;
    Ut nullus possit, _Christe_, deesse, Veni.


  [Decoration]

      Epig. 4.

      _Let my beloved come into his Garden._ Cant. 5.

      Love takes the tooles of a rude Country clowne,
        His owne Artill’ry, and his torch layes down;
      With staffe in’s hand, Oxen to th’Plow he set
        For tillage, and such honest labour fit;
      Straight, as he turn’d up hearts with easie share,
        And grace i’th’ virgin-furrowes did appeare,
      ’Mongst thousand others, one flower, quoth he, is mist:
        That none may wanting be, come thou, O Christ.



  Qualis est Dilectus tuus? ex _Cant._ 5.

  Ex Lib. Epig. 37.

  Qualis erat, tuus ille? tuus pulcherrimus ille?
    Dicebat nuper barbara turba mihi.
  Arripio dextrâ pennam, lævaque tabellam,
    Et noto, _Christe_, tuo quicquid in orbe noto.
  Pingo rosas, aurum, gemmas, viridaria, silvas,
    Arva, lacus, celeri sidera pingo manu;
  Et tabulam monstrans, Noster pulcherrimus, inquam,
    Qualis erat, vultis discere? talis erat.


      Who is thy Beloved? _Out of Cant._ 5.

      _Lib. Epig._ 37.

      What is that Spouse of thine? that fairest Hee?
        The barb’rous people said, of late, to mee.
      A Pen I tooke, and in a Tablet drew
        Whatsoe’re, O Christ, in thy blest orbe I view.
      Roses, and Gold I paint, Gems, Groves, Corne-land,
        Green Gardens, Lakes, and Stars with nimble hand;
      Would you needs learne, what might my fairest bee?
        Looke o’re this tablet, pray, O such was Hee.



  _Epig. 40. Lib. Ep._

  Veni de Libano sponsa.

  Et fugis, & fugiens clamas, quid sponsa moraris?
    Non fugis, ut fugias: ut capiare, fugis.


      Epig. 40.

      Thou run’st, & running cry’st, why dost thou stay
        My Spouse? thou would’st be ta’ne, not get away.



  Ex lib. Epi. 48.

  ---- Lilia manu præferenti.

  Hæc, quæ virgineis nituntur lilia culmis,
    Undè verecundas explicuêre comas?
  Non generant similes Pæstana rosaria flores,
    Nec simili Pharius messe superbit ager:
  Non hæc purpureis mater Corcyra viretis,
    Nec parit æquoreis pulsa Carystos aquis.
  Cùm nullas habeant natales lilia terras,
    Qui neget è castâ lilia nata manu?


      Ep. 48.

      _To ---- bearing Lillyes in her hand._

      These Lillyes which on virgin stalks doe bend,
        From whence do they their chaster leaves extend?
      The _Pæstan_ beds such flowres did ne’re bring forth,
        Nor _Pharian_ fields e’re gloried in such worth:
      _Alcinous_ purple banks, ne’re teem’d with these,
        Nor rich _Carystos_ watred by the Seas.
      Since then these flow’res no native place do know,
        Who can deny from her chast hand they grow.



  Ex Lib. Ep. 51.

  _Iohanni de Lugo_, dum post morbum ad intermissam de Pœenitentiâ
  doctrinam rediret.

  Fertur inornatis nuper Metanœa capillis
    Flesse, repentinâ cùm raperêre febri:
  Fertur & indomito frænos laxasse dolori,
   Et lacrymis madidos exhibuisse sinus:
  Cùm rursus domito repetis tua pulpita morbo,
    Fertur inornatas disposuisse comas:
  Et domitos hilari risu frænasse dolores,
    Et lacrymis vacuos explicuisse sinus.
  Quis, Pater, incolumi de te non gaudeat, ipsæ
    Si gaudent Lacrymæ, ridet & ipse Dolor?


      Ex. Lib. Ep. 51.

      To _Iohan de Lugo_, when after a long sicknesse,
      he returned to his intermitted Lecture of Repentance.

      With hairs unkemb’d Repentance late did mourn,
        When with so feirce a Feaver thou wert torne:
      Shee’s said, to let loose raynes t’untamed griefe,
        To’affoord her moyst’ned bosome, no reliefe,
      But when th’desks agen, thy sicknesse tam’d,
        Thou mountd’st, she’s said her careless haire t’have kemb’d
      T’have bridled in her conquer’d griefe, and smile,
        Of teares, her open’d bosome to beguile.
      Who cannot then be glad, thou being safe?
        When teares rejoyce, and griefe it selfe doth laugh.



  Christi in Cruce vox. Ep. 110.

  SITIO.

  Ah sitio, clamas, Princeps pulcherrime rerum:
    Non habeo pro te dulcia vina, siti.
  Tu tamen, ah sitio, clamas: dabo pocula, Sponse:
    Heu mihi! sed misto pocula felle dabo.
  Hæc mi Sponse, bibe: quæris cui fortè propines?
    Ad me pro mundi, _Christe_, salute bibe.


      _The voyce of Christ upon the Crosse._

      I THIRST.

      Alas I thirst, great King, thou loude dost grone,
        I have no pleasant Wine for Thee, thirst on.
      Yet oh I thirst, thou cry’st: a Cup to thee
        Woes mee! I’le give: but mix’d with gall’t must be.
      Drink this, my Spouse: perhaps thou’lt ask to whom?
        To me, O Christ, to th’health o’th’world let’t come.



_FINIS._

_Imprimatur_, Na. Brent.

_Feb._ 10. 1645.


       *       *       *       *       *
           *       *       *       *

PUBLICATIONS OF THE AUGUSTAN REPRINT SOCIETY

  [Where available, LibraryBlog e-text numbers are shown in
  brackets.]


FIRST YEAR (1946-1947)

Numbers 1-6 out of print.

  [Titles:
  1. Blackmore, Essay upon wit  [13484]

  2. Flecknoe, On wit; Warton, The adventurer  [14973]

  3. Letter to A. H. Esq., concerning the Stage (1698),
  and Richard Willis’ Occasional Paper No. IX (1698).  [14047]

  4. Cobb, Discourse on Criticism and of Poetry (1707) From
  Poems On Several Occasions (1707)  [14528]

  5. Samuel Wesley’s _Epistle to a Friend Concerning Poetry_ (1700)
  and _Essay on Heroic Poetry_ (1693).  [16506]

  6. _Representation of the Impiety and Immorality of the Stage_ (1704)
  and _Some Thoughts Concerning the Stage_ (1704).  [15656] ]


SECOND YEAR (1947-1948)

7. John Gay’s _The Present State of Wit_ (1711): and a section on Wit
from _The English Theophrastus_ (1702).  [14800]

8. Rapin’s _De Carmine Pastorali_, translated by Creech (1684).  [14495]

9. T. Hanmer’s (?) _Some Remarks on the Tragedy of Hamlet_ (1736).
[14899]

10. Corbyn Morris’ _Essay towards Fixing the True Standards of Wit,
etc._ (1744).  [16233]

11. Thomas Purney’s _Discourse on the Pastoral_ (1717).  [15313]

12. Essays on the Stage, selected, with an Introduction by Joseph Wood
Krutch.  [16335]


THIRD YEAR (1948-1949)

13. Sir John Falstaff (pseud.), _The Theatre_ (1720).  [15999]

14. Edward Moore’s _The Gamester_ (1753).  [16267]

15. John Oldmixon’s _Reflections on Dr. Swift’s Letter to Harley_
(1712); and Arthur Mainwaring’s _The British Academy_ (1712).
[IN PREPARATION]

16. Nevil Payne’s _Fatal Jealousy_ (1673).  [16916]

17. Nicholas Rowe’s _Some Account of the Life of Mr. William
Shakespeare_ (1709).  [16275]

18. “Of Genius,” in _The Occasional Paper_, Vol. III, No. 10 (1719);
and Aaron Hill’s Preface to _The Creation_ (1720).  [15870]


FOURTH YEAR (1949-1950)

19. Susanna Centlivre’s _The Busie Body_ (1709).  [16740]

20. Lewis Theobold’s _Preface to The Works of Shakespeare_ (1734).
[16346]

21. _Critical Remarks on Sir Charles Grandison, Clarissa, and Pamela_
(1754).

22. Samuel Johnson’s _The Vanity of Human Wishes_ (1749) and Two
_Rambler_ papers (1750).  [13350]

23. John Dryden’s _His Majesties Declaration Defended_ (1681).  [15074]

24. Pierre Nicole’s _An Essay on True and Apparent Beauty in Which from
Settled Principles is Rendered the Grounds for Choosing and Rejecting
Epigrams_, translated by J. V. Cunningham.  [IN PREPARATION]


FIFTH YEAR (1950-1951)

25. Thomas Baker’s _The Fine Lady’s Airs_ (1709).  [14467]

26. Charles Macklin’s _The Man of the World_ (1792).  [14463]

27. Frances Reynolds’ _An Enquiry Concerning the Principles of Taste,
and of the Origin of Our Ideas of Beauty, etc._ (1785).  [13485]

28. John Evelyn’s _An Apologie for the Royal Party_ (1659); and
_A Panegyric to Charles the Second_ (1661).  [17833]

29. Daniel Defoe’s _A Vindication of the Press_ (1718).  [14084]

30. Essays on Taste from John Gilbert Cooper’s _Letters Concerning
Taste,_ 3rd edition (1757), & John Armstrong’s _Miscellanies_ (1770).
[13464]


SIXTH YEAR (1951-1952)

31. Thomas Gray’s _An Elegy Wrote in a Country Church Yard_ (1751); and
_The Eton College Manuscript_.  [15409]

32. Prefaces to Fiction; Georges de Scudéry’s Preface to _Ibrahim_
(1674), etc.  [14525]

33. Henry Gally’s _A Critical Essay_ on Characteristic-Writings (1725).
[16299]

34. Thomas Tyers’ A Biographical Sketch of Dr. Samuel Johnson (1785).

35. James Boswell, Andrew Erskine, and George Dempster. _Critical
Strictures on the New Tragedy of Elvira, Written by Mr. David Malloch_
(1763).  [15857]

36. Joseph Harris’s _The City Bride_ (1696).  [22974]


SEVENTH YEAR (1952-1953)

37. Thomas Morrison’s _A Pindarick Ode on Painting_ (1767).
[IN PREPARATION]

38. John Phillips’ _A Satyr Against Hypocrites_ (1655).

39. Thomas Warton’s _A History of English Poetry_.

40. Edward Bysshe’s _The Art of English Poetry_ (1708).

41. Bernard Mandeville’s “_A Letter to Dion_” (1732).

42. Prefaces to Four Seventeenth-Century Romances.

       *       *       *       *       *
           *       *       *       *
       *       *       *       *       *

ERRATA (Noted by transcriber)

_As printed:_

  _Introduction:_ The editor’s name, printed “Roestvig”, is more
  correctly Røstvig.

  _Latin:_ The use of œ and æ in words such as “mœstus” is in the
  original. Accents are variously acute ´, grave ` or circumflex ^,
  with no apparent difference in meaning. Some do not even mark long
  syllables.

  _English:_ Variation between -w- and -vv- is as in the original.

  _Typography:_ In both languages, titles were randomly Italic or Roman.
  Italicization (or de-italicization) of ’s in possessives is also
  random.

_Introduction_

  an interesting combination of Stoic and Platonic ideas
    [_“of / of” at line break_]

_Odes_

  _All headers were in the form “Ode 2, Lib. 1” with the poem number
  given before the Book number. They have been conventionalized for
  this Errata list._

  Lib. 1 Ode 1
  Cum infestæ Thracum Copiæ Pannoniâ excessissent.
    [_“Co./piæ” for “Co-/piæ” at line break_]
  The threats of cruell Warre now cease:, [_punctuation unchanged_]

  Lib. 1 Ode 2
  [title] de adversâ fortunâ  [adverfa]
  Unmanly howlings, _Lycuas_, leave,
    [_error for Lycas or Lycus (English title has “Lycas”; Latin has
    “Lycus”)_]

  Lib. 1 Ode 13
  Fortune a double ball doth often throw. [doulble]

  Lib. 2 Ode 5
  Regna procul, populosque vastos  [porcul]

  Lib. 2 Ode 8
  ... that fortune flings
    [_final “s” missing at end of long line_]

  Lib. 2 Ode 24
  And _Nereus_ with his Quicksands Boyling o’re:  [Nerens]

  Lib. 2 Ode 25
      [_The title of this Ode is printed in anomalous small capitals
      on both the Latin and the English sides_]
    Donec Lucicer aureus  [_text unchanged: probably “Lucifer”_]
    Silvarumq; super colla comantium,  [comantnium]
    Magnorumq; salit terga cacuminum, ac  [cacumium] ac
      [_These words appear in consecutive indented lines_]

  Lib. 3 Ode 6
  I kingdome, _Marcus_, of my selfe I find
    [_Text unchanged: error for ‘1 kingdome‘ or ‘A kingdome’?_]

  Lib. 3 Ode 12
  The best would choose, from Heav’n must learne the right.
    [_comma at end_]

  Lib. 4 Ode 3
  With swift applause; Hee’s blest whose sprite,  [sptite]

  Lib. 4 Ode 44
  _Ode 44. Lib. 4._
    [_Number shown as printed on both Latin and English sides. The
    error may have been in the source text._]
  But Jesu! where art thou? what region’s blest  [where at]

  Lib. 4 Ode 15
  Immune tædî. Clarus olim  [_first word illegible_]

  Lib. 4 Ode 30
  _Ad Ianussium Skuminum._ : To _Ianusius Skuminus_.
    [_inconsistent spelling (ss:s) in original_]
  Hæc ego si nullos fallunt insomnia maneis,  [insomia]
  Her owne and Nephew’s temples crown’d.  [Nepew’s]

  Lib. 4 Ode 32
  With nimble finger neat division;  [nible]
  And if I write, my secure chaire holds mee.  [_comma at end_]

  Lib. 4 Ode 34
  Splendidam verâ sine luce gazam  [fine luce (f for long s)]

  Lib. 4 Ode 35
    [_“Vilna” is the city (modern Vilnius, Wilna in Polish), “Vilia”
    the river (modern Vilnia)_]

  Epode 1
  His beames, doth guild the Moutaines cleare  [_spelling unchanged_]

  Epode 3
  Thus spake he to the neighbouring trees, thus he  [neigbouring]

_Long “s”_

  Lib. 1, Odes 2 and 13 (Latin pages 10, 12):
  Mœstum sol hodiè caput ...  [Mœstum fol ...]

_At the beginning of p. 10 there appears to have been an accident
with the Italic type trays. Almost all long s’s (ſ) on p. 10 (signature
5v), and many on p. 12 (signature 6v), are misprinted as f, except in
the -st- and -ss- ligatures. The last two lines of Ode 1.2, top of
p. 12:_

    Quod fi deſuerit ſalix
    Fafces pauperibus ſubjiciet focis.

_Note the s-for-f error. In Italic fonts--used for all Latin poems
in this text--long “s” is generally _easier_ to distinguish from “f”
than it is in Roman fonts._

_Page Numbering_

  In Lib. 1 Ode 2, English, page 13 is misprinted as page 31.
  In Lib. 4 Ode 12, Latin, page 68 is misprinted as page 98.
  In Lib. 4, Ode 30, page numbers 95-96 are repeated, and the setback
    in numbering continues to the end of the text. The folio numbers
    (in duodecimo, or sets of 24 pages) remain correct.





*** End of this LibraryBlog Digital Book "The Odes of Casimire, Translated by G. Hils" ***

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