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O LITTLE farm, with field, which Syron own'd!
Though humble, thou wast wealth to him, thy lord;
If aught more sad I of my country hear,

I trust myself to thee; and, with me, those
Alone whom I have ever loved; and first
Of all my father. Thou'lt be now to him
What Mantua and Cremona erst had been.


Ye learned Muses, sing some lays to me:
A few, but to bright Phoebus not unknown.
A victor's here, pride of a mighty triumph,
Wherever lands, wherever seas, extend;
Like great Enides, like proud Eryx, scars
Horrible bearing of barbaric fights;

Nor aught unworthy to draw forth our song,
And greatest of our holy choirs to be.

And thus, sire, by more special cares I'm moved,


How of thee, or how to thee, I can write.

For what's the main deterrent cause I'll own,

And what the greatest that encouraged me.

Some of thy verses in our page appear,

Verses, in style and wit, Cecropian;
Worthy acceptance by a future age,


And to outlive the ancient Nestor's years.


Molliter hic viridi patulæ sub tegmine quercus

Moris pastores et Melibus erant ; Dulcia jactantes alterno carmina versu, Qualia Trinacriæ doctus amat juvenis. Certatim ornabant omnes Heroïda divi;

Certatim divæ munere quæque suo.
Felicem ante alias tanto scriptore puellam !
Altera non fama dixerit esse prior:

Non illa, Hesperidum ni munere capta fuisset,
Quæ volucrem cursu vicerat Hippomenem ;
Candida cycneo non edita Tyndaris ovo;

Non supero fulgens Cassiopea polo;
Non defensa diu volucrum certamine equorum,
Optabant Graiæ quam, sibi quisque, manus;
Sæpe animam generi pro qua pater impius hausit,
Sæpe rubro Eleïs sanguine fluxit humus;
Regia non Semele, non Inachis Acrisione,

Immitti exspectans fulmine et imbre Jovem :

Cujus et ob raptum pulsi liquere penates

Tarquinii patrios, filius atque pater;

Illo, quo primum dominatus Roma superbos

Mutavit placidis tempore consulibus.

Multa, neque immeritis, donavit præmia alumnis,

Præmia Messalis maxima Poplicolis.

Jam quid ego immensi memorem studia ista laboris ?

Horrida quid duræ tempora militiæ ?

Castra foro solitos, urbi præponere castra,

Tam procul hoc nato, tam procul hac patria?






'Neath the cool covert of a wide-spread oak, Moeris and Melibaeus, shepherds, lay,

Singing sweet verses in alternate song,
Such as the skill'd Trinacrian youth admire.
The gods deck eagerly the Heroine
With gifts; and eagerly the goddesses.
Happy o'er other maids in such renown!
By fame none worthier could be spoken of;
Not she who'd vanquish'd swift Hippomenes
Had she not clutch'd the gifts Hesperidan;

Not Tynd'rus' daughter, from a swan's egg born;
Nor Cassiopea glittering at the pole;

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Not she who'd staid swift horses in the race,

And whom each Grecian sought for as his wife,


His (would-be) son-in-law; when oft the ground

For whom her impious father often slew

In the Eleian (plains) flow'd red with blood;
Not regal Semele, not Inachus'

Daughter, not Danaë awaiting Jove,

In thunder (one), in show'rs pour'd down (the other);
Not she for whom the Tarquins, sire and son,
Expell'd, left their paternal household gods,

At the time pending which Rome first exchanged
Her haughty monarchs for mild consulship.

She many gifts bestow'd, not undeserved,

But to th' Poplicola-Messalas most.

Why should I name those subjects vast of toil ?
Why the dread times of harden'd soldiery?
Why those accustom'd to prefer the camp
To courts the camp to prize above the town,





Immoderata pati jam frigora, jamque calores?
Stertere vel dura posse super silice ?
Sæpe trucem adverso perlabi sidere Pontum ?
Sæpe mare audendo vincere, sæpe hiemem?
Sæpe etiam densos immittere corpus in hostes,
Communem belli nec timuisse deum?
Nunc celeres Afros perituraque millia gentis,
Aurea nunc rapidi flumina adire Tagi?
Nunc aliam ex alia bellando quærere gentem?

Vincere et Oceani finibus ulterius?

Non nostrum est, inquam, tantas attingere laudes ;

Quin ausim hoc etiam dicere, vix hominum est. Ipsa, hæc ipsa ferent rerum monumenta per orbem ;Ipsa sibi egregium facta decus parient. Nos ea, quæ tecum finxerunt carmina divi,

Cynthius, et Muse, Bacchus, et Aglaïe.

Si laudes adspirem, humili sed adire Camena :
Si patrio Graios carmine adire sales
Possumus optatis plus jam procedimus ipsis.
Hoc satis est; pingui nil mihi cum populo.




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So far off those by birth, so these by right?
To bear excessive cold now, now the heat?
Able to snore e'en on the flinty rock ?
Oft sail o'er fearful seas, 'mid adverse gales?
Oft rule the sea by daring, oft the storm?
Oft hurl the body on the serried foe?

Nor to have fear'd the common god of war?
Swift Afric's thousands now about to die?
To visit now fleet Tagus' golden streams?
To found another nation by a war?

To conquer at the ocean's utmost bounds?
'Tis not for us such praises to attempt;
Nay, this I dare affirm: 'tis scarce for man.
These will raise monuments throughout the globe;
Such deeds exceeding glory will obtain.

These are our lays framed for thee by the gods :
Bacchus, the Muses, Cynthius, Aglaïa.

If to distinction I may lay a claim,
And can attain it with my humble Muse,
If classic beauty reach by native verse,
Enough; with stupid folk I've nought to do.

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