The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Odes of Casimire, Translated by G. Hils, by Maciej Kazimierz Sarbiewski

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Title: The Odes of Casimire, Translated by G. Hils

Author: Maciej Kazimierz Sarbiewski

Release Date: April 12, 2008 [EBook #25055]

Language: English, Latin

Credits: Produced by Louise Hope, David Starner, and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team.

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Editor’s Introduction

The Odes of Casimire

Augustan Reprints

Transcriber’s Notes

In addition to the ordinary page numbers, the printed text labeled the recto (odd) pages of the first five leaves of each 24-page quire. These will appear after the page numbers as A, A2, A3... Page numbers added by the transcriber are shown in [brackets].

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,

Then let fierce Goths their strongest chains prepare;

The    Scythians hence mee captive teare,

Grim Scythians me their slave declare;

My mind being free with you, I’le stare

The Tyrants in the face....

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 knev 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.

end div intro

png 008

THE

ODES

OF

CASIMIRE

Tranſlated by

G. H.

LONDON,

Printed by T. W. for Humphrey Moſeley, at the

ſigne of the Princes Armes in Pauls

Church-yard, 1646.

end div casimir_title

In the original text, the Latin was printed on left-hand (even-numbered) pages, with English on facing pages. Not all translations are line for line. Note that poem numbering is consistently inverted: “Ode 25, Lib. 2” means Book 2, Ode 25. “Epi.” stands for both “Epode” and “Epigram”.

Contents

(list added by transcriber)

Liber 1:

Ode   1

Ode   2

Ode 13

Liber 4:

Ode   3

Ode 10

Ode 11

Ode 12

Ode 13

Ode 44

Ode 15

Ode 19

Ode 21

Ode 30

Ode 32

Ode 34

Ode 35

Epode

1

2

3

Liber 2:

Ode   2

Ode   5

Ode   7

Ode   8

Ode 19

Ode 24

Ode 25

Epigram

4

37

40

48

51

110

Liber 3:

Ode   4

Ode   6

Ode 12

Od. 1. Lib. 1.

Cum infeſtæ Thracum Copiæ Pannoniâ exceſſiſſent.

Od. 1. Lib. 1.

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

Am minæ sævi cecidere belli:

Jam profanatis malè pulsa terris

Et salus, & pax niveis revisit

Oppida bigis:

he 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;

Iam fides, & fas, & amæna præter

Faustitas, læto volat arva curru:

Iam fluunt passim pretiosa largis

Sæcula rivis.

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.

Candidi soles veterisque venæ

Fontibus nati revocantur Anni:

Grandinat Gemmis, riguoque Cœlum

Depluit Auro.

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;

Meque veraci cecinisse plectro

Inter Octobreis, tua festa, pompas,

Prisca Saturni rediisse sæcla,

Approbat Orbis.

Whilst I with my Prophetique string

Thy Winter feastivalls doe sing,

The whole world doth with Ecchoes ring

Old Saturn’s age is ours.

Aurei patrum niveique mores,

Exul & serâ procul usque Thule,

Candor, & pulchro remeare virtus

Audet Olympo.

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.

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.

Lætior vulgò seges inquietis

Fluctuat culmis, titubantque frugum

Uberes Campi, nec avara sulcis

Invidet æstas.

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.

Pastor Erranteis comitatus Hœdos

Provocat raucas calamo cicadas:

Mugiunt Colles, & anhela fessis

Silva Iuvencis.

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.

The Mountaines leape, and rough Rocks smile

For gentle Peace rejoyceth still

Such solitary roomes to fill

Hills set apart, ’lone Townes.

Te Ceres flavis redimita culmis,

Magne pacati moderator orbis,

Te suis Æstas opulenta Circum-

fundit aristis.

Ceres with yellow Chaplet, and

The Summer rich with eares doth stand,

Great Prince of our appeased Land,

Thee to encompasse round.

Supplici Myrtus tibi servit umbrâ,

Serviunt Lauri: tibi celsa longè

Quercus assurgit, tremuloque pinus

Vertice nutat.

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;

Siderum præses, dominusque terræ,

Lucidâ Romam speculatus aree,

Regna tranquillet, Cupidoque patrem

Te velit orbi.

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.

The Laurell signe long life to thee,

Let Fates and destinies agree

To twine thy thred, which cannot bee

Cut ’till th’ appointed time.

Quæque formosos sedet inter igneis,

Sedulam pro te miserata Romam

Virgo, quam circum glomerantur albis

Astra choreis.

May shee amidst those glorious fires,

For thy sake, pittying our desires,

’Bout whom the beauteous starrs inquires,

And flowing measures swim;

Curet effusas Latii querelas,

Virginum castas juvenumque voces

Curet, & votis procerum reclinem

accommodet aurem.

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.

To Aurelius Lycas.

Ode 2. Li. 1.

Nè plus æquo de adverſâ fortunâ queratur.

That hee would not complaine too much of adverſe fortune.

I

Ndignas, 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 [A] 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.

U

Nmanly 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.

To Tarquinius Lavinus.

Ode 13. lib. 1.

N

On si [A] 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.

A

S 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.

Ne spem projice, Tarquini:

Cujus pænè retro lambere pulverem

Et vestigia diceris,

Cum fortuna levem verterit orbitam,

Effusam super & luto

Fumantem poteris cernere purpuram.

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.

Tunc & risibus abstine,

Neu turpi domino Lumina paveris:

Neu calces nimium, memor

Fortunæ geminam sæpe jaci pilam.

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.

To Publius Memmius.

Ode 2. Lib. 2.

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

Q

Ua 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, capitique cani

Semper hærebunt, neque multa Nardus

Nec parum gratum repetita dement

Serta colorem.

T

He 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.

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 quisque famam

Scribat Hæredem: rapiunt avaræ

Cetera Lunæ.

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.

H

Umana linquo: tollite præpetem

Nubesque ventique. Ut mihi devii

Montes resedere, & volanti

Regna procul, populosque vastos

Subegit aer! jam radiantia

Delubra Divum, jam mihi regiæ

Turres recessere, & relicta in

Exiguum tenuantur urbes;

Totasque qua se cunque ferunt vaga

Despecto Gentes. O lacrymabilis

Jncerta fortuna! ô fluentûm

Principia, interitúsque rerum!

L

Ift 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 turresque: 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,

Portusque 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,

Inque 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,

Ferroque 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 titubantque regna,

Unâque 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.

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?

Regumque Turres, & pelago Casas

Jamjam latentes? jam video procul

Merceisque differri, & natantem

Oceano fluitare gazam.

Alterna rerum militat efficax

In damna mundus. Cladibus instruit

Bellisque rixisque & ruinis

Sanguineam libitina scenam,

Suprema doxec stelligerum dies

Claudat Theatrum. Quid morer hactenus

Viator aurarum & serenas

Sole domos aditurus usque

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.

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?

Humana mirer? tollite præpetem

Festina vatem, tollite nubila

Qua solis & Lunæ Labores

Cæruleo vehit æthra Campo.

Ludor? sequaces aut subeunt latus

Ferunt; venti? Jamque iterum mihi

Et regna decrevere, & immensæ

Ante oculos periêre gentes;

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.

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?

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.

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.

To Publius Memmius.

Ode 7. Lib. 2.

E

Sset humanis aliquod levamen

Cladibus, si res caderent eâdem

Quâ morâ surgunt; sed humant repentes

Alta ruinæ.

A

Midst 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.

Nil diu felix stetit; inquieta

Urbium currunt hominumque Fata:

Totque vix horis jacuêre, surgunt

Regna quot annis.

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.

Casibus longum dedit ille tempus,

Qui diem regnis satis eruendis

Dixit: elato populos habent mo-

menta sub ictu.

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.

Parce crudeles, moriture Publi,

Impio divos onerare questu,

Densa vicinis nimiùm vagari

Funera tectis.

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.

Quæ tibi primùm dedit hora nasci,

Hæc mori primùm dedit. Ille longùm

Vixit, æternum sibi qui merendo

Vindicat ævum.

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.

To Aſterius.

Ode 8. l. 2

A

T nos inani pascit imagine

Fortuna rerum. Ludimur Asteri,

Umbris amicorum; & doloso

Verba simul placuêre fuco,

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

Res esse stulti credimus. at simul

Sors infidelem corripuit rotam,

Gaudent recedenti Sodales

Non eadem dare verba Divæ.

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.

Plerumque falsis nominibus placent

Humana. Rari pollicitis data

Aequamus: & minor loquaci

Relligio solet esse voto.

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.

V

Itas sollicitæ me similis capræ,

Quam vel nimbisoni sibilus Africi,

Vel motum subitis murmur Etesiis

Vano corripit impetu.

T

Hou 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.

Nam seu prima metum bruma trementibus

Incussit foliis, sive Diespiter

Elisit resonis tela Cerauniis,

Incertâ trepidat fugâ.

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.

At qui non ego te quærere desinam,

Clamatura retrò, Christe, Revertere: &

Rursus, cùm rapido fugeris impetu,

Clamatura, Revertere.

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;

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.

Tandem sollicitæ pone modum fugæ.

Nam non effugies, Te mihi sedulis

Aether excubiis prodet, & aureis

Prodet Cynthia cornibus.

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.

Te neglecta gemunt littora, te procul

Suspirat tacitis aura Pavoniis,

Te noctis vigiles, te mihi vividis

Signant sidera nutibus.

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.

D

Evota sacræ progenies domus!

Fatale monstrum! prodigialium

Monstrum parentum! seu Libyssa

Marmaricis leæ pavit antris,

T

Hou 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.

Seu te maligno sidere degener

Pardus maritâ tigride prodidit,

Furoris hæredem paterni;

Sive gregis populator Afri

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:

Nudum sub alto destituit jugo;

Seu belluosis fluctibus exspuit

Irata tempestas nocentem

Alitibusque ferisque prædam;

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:

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

Te sede primum livida regiâ

Megæra fixit: Tisiphone dedit

Sceptrum cruentandum feraque

Imposuit Diadema fronti; &

Fix’d th’in thy regall seat, on thee accurst

Then Tisiphon the Scepter did bestow,

And set the Diadem on thy savage brow:

Regale nuper cum premeres ebur

Adsedit altis fulta curulibus,

Et per Palæstinos Tyrannis

Explicuit sua signa campos.

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:

Tremensque & atrum sanguine â manu

Telum coruscans secum Odia, & Minas,

Cædemque & insanos tumultus,

Funeraque & populorum iniquas

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,

Strages, & indignum excidium retrò

Lactantis ævi traxit, & inclyta

Regnorum, inexhaustasque longis

Cladibus evacuavit urbies.

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.

Illam & parentum dira gementium

Lamenta, Questusque, & Gemitus retrò,

Luctusque vicatim secuti, &

Irriguis Lacrymæ catervis.

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

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

Incussus æther pigra tonitrua &

Immugientûm fulmina nubium

Compescit, indulgentque metæ

Aëriis vaga tela pennis?

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

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!

Inominatis marmora partubus

Fudêre monstrum: rumpite, rumpite

Monteisque, facundasque Regum

Fulmina præcipitate rupeis.

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

May hee exspire! oh may the murth’rer fall!

Most execrable, cruell, tragicall!

Upon his kingdom’s pile, and flaming yew

Summum cadaver fumet, & aëra

Cælumque diro liberet halitu

Fatale monstrum, dissidentûm

Ludibrium Furiarum, & Orci.

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

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

Bis terque Nereus Syrtibus insonet.

Audimur. Ingens sidera verberat,

Spumamque, limumque, & rapaceis

Oceanus glomeravit undas:

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

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,

Inexpiato pollue Tartara

Tyranni leto: solus & igneum

Insume Cocytum, & frementem

Sulphureis Acheronta ripis.

Goe, Tyrant with thy death unpardoned,

Even Hell it selfe pollute, possesse, alone,

Cocytus, and sulphureous Acheron.

Ex ſacro Salomonis Epithalamio.

Out of Solomons ſacred Marriage Song, Cant. 2.

Fulcite me floribus, &c.

Stay me with flagons, &c.

Adiuro vos, filiæ Jeruſalem, ne ſuſcitetis, &c.

Ecce iſte venit, ſaliens in montibus, tranſiliens colles, &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.

ODE 25. LIB. 2.

M

E 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.

S

Tay 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.

Vos ô, vos ego filiæ

Cælestis Solymæ; vos Galaditides,

Vos ô per capreas ego

Errantesque jugis hinnuleos precor,

Antiqui genus Isaci,

Quæ saltus Libani, quæ viridem vago

Carmelum pede visitis,

Nymphæ nobilium gloria montium:

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 Lucicer 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:

Silvarumque super colla comantium,

Et intonsum Libani caput,

Magnorumque salit terga cacuminum, ac

Proceras nemorum domos

Prono transiliens præterit impetu:

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:

Veloci similis capræ

Qua visis humili in valle leonibus,

Per prærupta, per ardua

Sublimi volucris fertur anhelitu.

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 rectoque 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.

S

Ive te molli vehet aura vento,

Sive non planis agitabit undis,

Vince Fortunam, dubiasque Nolli,

Lude per artes.

A

Rt 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.

Riserit? vultum generosus aufer.

Fleverit? dulci refer ora risu:

Solus, & semper tum esse quovis

Disce tumultu.

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.

Ipse te clausus modereris urbem

Consul aut Cæsar; quoties minantûm

Turba fatorum quatient serenam

Pectoris arcem.

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.

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.

Dextra sors omnis gerit hoc sinistrum,

Quòd facit molleis: habet hoc sinistra

Prosperum, quem nunc ferit, imminenteis

Durat in ictus.

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.

Ille qui longus fuit, esse magnus

Desinit mœror, facilem ferendo

Finge Fortunam; levis esse longo

Discit ab usu.

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.

To Marcus Silicernius.

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

Ode 6. lib. 3.

N

Unquam præcipiti credulus aleæ

Cum Fatis avidas composui manus,

Ut mecum taciti fœdere prælii

Aequâ pace quiescerent.

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.

Quid Fortuna ferat crastina, nesciam,

Hæres ipse neci. Quas dedit, auferet,

Non avellet opes, quæ procul extime

Semotæ spatio jacent.

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.

Quæ possunt adimi, non mea credidi;

Nunquam pauperior, si mens integer.

Regnum, Marce, mei si benè de meis

Vectigalia censibus—

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—

Intra me numerem. Pars animi latet

Ingens, divitibus lætior Indiis,

Quo non ter spatio longiùs annuo

Itur navibus, aut equis.

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.

Sed mens assiduum visitur in diem

Hospes sæpe sui; non ebur, aut novas

Mercatura dapes, ipsa sui satis

Dives, si sibi cernitur.

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.

To Aurelius Fuſcus.

That all humane things are fraile and uncertaine.

Ode 12. Lib. 3.

S

I primum vacuis demere corticem

Rebus. Fusce, velis, cetera diffluunt

Vernæ more nivis, quæ modò nubium

Leni tabuit halitu.

I

F 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.

Formosis reseces fortia; displicent.

Externis trahimur; si malè Dardanis

Respondens Helenæ pectus amoribus

Famosus videat Paris;

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,

Nusquam per medii prælia Nerei

Ventorumque minas splendida deferat

Graii furta thori sed benè mutuo

Rerum consuluit jugo

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,

Naturæ Dominus, quòd niveis nigra,

Lætis occuluit tristia. Qui bona

Rerum de vario deliget agmine,

Consulto sapiet Deo.

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.

L

Atè minaces horruimus Lethi

Regnare Thracas. Latius imperat,

Qui solus, exemptusque vulgo

Certa sui tenet arma voti.

T

He 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.

Imbelle pectus parce fidelibus

Munire parmis; neu latus aspero

Lorica cinctu, neu decorum

Arcus amet pharetraque collum.

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.

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.

Exile regnum, Pausilipi, sumus:

Sed se obsequentem qui sibi subdidit,

Hic grande fecit, si suasmet

Ipse roget peragatque leges.

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.

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.

Rex est, profanos qui domuit metus:

Qui cùm stat unus, castra sibi facit;

Casumque fortunamque pulchro

Provocat assiduus duello.

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.

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;

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.

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.

Ille, & caducis se licet undique

Suspendat auris pontus, & in caput

Unius & flammas, & undam, &

Vertat agens maria omnia Auster,

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,

Rerum ruinas, mentis ab arduà

Sublimis aulà, non sine gaudio

Spectabit, & latè ruenti

Subjiciens sua collo cælo

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;

Interque cæli fragmina, lugubre

Telluris insistet sepulchrum, ac

Incolumis morientis ævi

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,

Heres, ab alto prospiciet, magis

Hæc magnæ quam sint quæ pedibus premit,

Quàm quæ relinquet; jam tum Olympi

Non dubius moriturus hospes.

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

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.

Quam navigamus semper in insulam

Seu lata magnis stravimus æquora

Regis carinis; seu Quirites,

Exiguâ vehimur phaselo.

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.

Illo beatum margine me meus

Exponat asser. Cur ego sistere

Aeterno reformidens quietus

Littore, si peritura linquam?

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.

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.

Ode 10. Lib. 4.

D

ELLI, 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.

W

EE 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.

L

Æte, quid cassis sequimur fugacem

Gloriam telis? fugit illa Mauri

More, vel Parthi, regeritque ab ipso

Vulnera tergo.

W

Hy fleeting glory follow wee,

Lætus, with weapons all in vaine?

When like a Moore, or Parthian, shee

Flyes at her backe with wounded Trayne.

Hospes unius negat esse tecti

Garrulus vulgi favor: hîc inani

Aure rumores legit, inde veris

Falsa remiscet.

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,

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.

Vera laus sciri fugit. ipse pulcher

Se suâ Titan prohibet videri

Luce: qui totus potuit latere,

Major habetur.

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.

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.

Præterit mutas benè cymba ripas;

Quæ simul raucis strepuêre saxis,

In latus cautam sapiens memento

Avertere proram.

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.

Q

Uid me latentem sub tenui lare

Dudum moretur, cùm mihi civium

Amica certatim patescant

Atria, sæpe rogas Libini.

W

Hat ’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.

Me plenus, extra quid cupiam? meo

In memet ipsum clausus ab ostio,

In se recedentis reviso

Scenam animi vacuumque relustro

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:

Vitæ theatrum, sollicitus mei

Spectator, an quæ fabula prodii

Matura procedam, & supremo

Numinis excipienda plausu.

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:

Omnes recenset numen, & approbat

Vel culpat actus: quo mea judice

Si scena non levè peracta est,

Sim populo sine teste felix.

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, lacerosque saxis

Affligit artus. Me meliùs tegat

Privata virtus, & popularia

Numquam volaturum per ora

Celet iners sine laude tectum.

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:

Semota laudem si meruit, vetat

Audire virtus. tutiùs invidi

Longinqua miramur: propinquis

Lævus amat comes ire Livor.

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.

To Cæſar Pauſilippius.

That adverſity is to bee endured with a conſtant mind.

Ode 13. l. 4.

S

I 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;

Fecundusque 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.

I

F 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. [B] Lib 4.

To Criſpus Lævinius.

Being aſked why hee ſung ſo often as hee travailed, hee anſwers.

Ode 44. [B] Lib. 4.

C

Um meam nullis humeros onustus

Sarcinis tecum patriam reviso

Lætus, & parvo mihi cumque dives

Canto viator.

A

S cheerefully I walke with thee,

My shoulders from all burdens free.

Our native soyle again to see

Rich to my selfe I sing,

Tu siles mœstùm: tibi cura Musas

Demit, & multi grave pondus auri.

Quæque te quondam male fida rerum

Turba relinquet.

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.

Dives est qui nil habet; illa tantùm

Quæ potest certâ retinere dextrâ,

Seque fert secum vaga quò, migrare

Jussit egestas.

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!

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!

Quæ meos poscet via cunque gressus,

Delphici mecum, mea regna, colles

Itis, & fessum comitante circum-

Sistitis umbrâ.

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.

Me Gothus sævis religet catenis,

Me Scythes captum rapiat; solutâ

Mente, vobiscum potero tremendos

Visere Reges.

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.

N

Il est, Munati, nil, iterùm canam,

Mortale, nil est, immedicabilis

Immune tædî. Clarus olim

Sol proavis atavisque nobis,

N

Othing 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

Parùm salubris, nec maculâ reus

Damnatur unâ; quicquid in arduo

Immortale mortales Olympo

Vidimus, invidiæ caducâ

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

Fuscamus umbrâ. non placet incolis

Qui Sol avitis exoritur jugis;

Aut prisca quæ dudum paternam

Luna ferit radiis fenestram.

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.

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.

Frustrà; fideles si dominum retrò

Morbi sequuntur, nec tacitus Dolor

Absistit, aut Veiente curru,

Aut Venetâ comes ire cymbâ.

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.

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.

Virtus agresti dives in otio

Sese ipsa claudit finibus in suis

Plerumque, & insonti quietum

In paleâ solium reclinat.

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.

Out of Solomon’s ſacred Marriage Song.

CHAP. 1. 7.

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

Tell mee (ô thou whom my ſoule loveth) where thou feedeſt, where thou makeſt thy flocks to reſt at noone, &c.

παραφραστικῶς.

Ode 19. Lib. 4.

Od. 19. Lib. 4.

D

Icebas abiens: Sponsa vale; simul

Vicisti liquidis nubila passibus.

Longam ducis, Jesu,

In desideriis moram.

T

Hou 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?

Ardet iam medio summa dies polo,

Jam parcit segeti messor, & algidas

Pastor cum grege valleis,

Et picta volucres petunt.

’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.

At te quæ tacitis destinet otiis

O Jesu regio? quis mihi te locus

Cæcis invidet umbris,

Aut spissâ nemorum coma?

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?

Scirem quo jaceas cespite languidus,

Quis ventus gracili præflet anhelitu,

Quis rivus tibi grato

Somnum prætereat sono;

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;

Ah! nè te nimio murmure suscitent

Nostræ diluerent flumina lacrymæ,

Et suspiria crudis

Miscerentur Etesiis.

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.

Out of    Salomon’s ſacred marriage ſong.

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

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.

Ode 21. Lib. 4.

F

Allor? an Elysii lævâ de parte Sereni

Me mea vita vocat!

Surge soror, pulchris innectito lora columbis;

Pulchrior ipsa super

Scande rotas, Libanique 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.

D

O 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 pedibusque tibi

Altera floret humus, alterque vagantia lætus

Sidera pascit ager.

Hic etiam trepidi pendent è rupibus hædi,

Præcipitesque 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.

Lenè fluunt rivi, muscosis lenè susurrus

Murmurat è scopulis.

In vitrio pisces saliunt hilares crystallo,

Dulcè queruntur aves.

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.

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,

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 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,

Percutientque sinum.

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.

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.

Cædua Pãchæos sudant opobalsama nimbos;

Et genialis odor

Aspirat quoties, nutantibus hinc atque illinc

Ingruit aura comit.

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.

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.

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.

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.

To Ianuſius Skuminus.

When hee performed the Funerall obſequies of his moſt deare Wife.

παραφραστικῶς.

Ode 30. Lib. 4.

Ode 30. Lib. 4.

S

I 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?

W

Hat 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.

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.

Illa quidẽ non, si surdos ad carmina Manes

Orpheâ testudine vincam,

Eductas adamante fores, & ahenea rumpat

Elysiii pomœria muri,

Reddaturque tibi. Stat nulli janua voto,

Nullis exorata Poëtis.

’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:

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.

Auro prata virent; arbor crinitur in aurum;

Crispantur violaria gemmis,

Quæ nec Apellæus liquor, nec pulchra trigoni

Assimulent mendacia vitri.

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.

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.

Illa inter medias parvo comitata nepote

Et roseo vivacior ore,

Ibat ovans, grandemque sibi, grandemque nepoti

Nectebat de flore coronam.

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.

Cetera me vetuit magni caligo sereni

Mortali percurrere visu.

Nectu plura velis; satis est, cui fata dederunt

Aeternis mutasse caduca.

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.

T

Ursci, 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:

VV

Hether 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:

Mox & nubibus altior,

Mistus flumineis ales oloribus;

Vivos despicio lacus,

Et dulci volucrem carmine mentior.

Jam tunc nubila, jam mihi

Blandis dissiliunt fulmina cantibus;

Et quæ plurima circuit

Collum, puniceâ vincior Iride.

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.

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.

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.

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.

To Quintus Tiberinus.

Ode 34. Lib. 4.

D

Ivitem numquam, Tiberine, dices,

Cuius Eois potiora glebis

Rura, fortunæ sine fæce pulcher

Rivus inaurat;

T

Hou shalt not Tiberinus, call

Him rich, whose every Acre shall

Outvie the Easterne glebe, whose field

Faire Fortune’s clearest streame doth gild.

Quem per insigneis geniale ceras

Stemma claravit; vaga quem per urbes

Quem per & gentes radiante vexit

Gloria curru.

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:

Pauper est, qui se caret; & superbè

Ipse se librans, sua rura latam

Addit in lancem, socioque fallens

Pondus in auro,

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,

Ceteris parvus, sibi magnus uni,

Ipse se nescit, pretioque falsa

Plebis attollit, propriaque se mi-

ratur in umbrâ.

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.

Splendidam verâ sine luce gazam,

Turgidum plenâ sine laude nomen

Mitte; te solo, Tiberine, disces

Esse beatus.

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.

I

Am pridem tepido veris anhelitu

Afflarunt reduces arva Favonii;

Jam se florida vernis

Pingunt prata coloribus:

T

He 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.

Stratus frugiferis Vilia [C] puppibus

Grato præter abit rura silentio,

Quamvis proximus omni

Collis personet alite;

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;

Quamvis & viridi pastor ab aggere

Dicat gramineâ carmina fistulâ.

Et qui navita debet

Plenis otia carbasis.

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,

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,

Scandemus viridis terga Luciscii,

Quà celsâ tegitur plurimus ilice,

Et se prætereuntûm

Audit murmura fontium.

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.

Illinc è medio tota videbitur

Nobis Vilna [C] jugo; tota videbitur

Quæ Vilnam sinuosis

Ambit Vilia flexibus.

Thence from the midst o’th’hill all Vilna [C] 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.

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.

Ut longo faciles Pacis in otio

Se tollunt populi! nam tria tertio

Surrexêre sub anno

Priscis templa Quiritibus;

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;

Et quà conspicuis se Gediminia

Jactant saxa jugis, & Capitolium,

Et quæ tecta superbis

Intrant nubila turribus.

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.

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.

Quæ nunc mobilibus nutat Etesiis,

Segni cana stetit sub nive populus:

Qui nunc defluit, altà

Hæsit sub glacie latex:

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:

Qui nunc purpureis floret ager rosis,

Immoto sterilis delituit gelu:

Verno quæ strepit ales,

Hiberno tacuit die.

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.

Ergò rumpe moras, & solidum gravî

Curæ deme diem, quem tibi candidus

Spondet vesper, & albis

Cras Horæ revehent equis.

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.

Ad Paulum Iordanum Vrſinum Bracciani Ducem.

Bracciani agri amœnitatem commendat, ad quam per ferias Septembres ſeceſſerat Româ.

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.

Ode 1. Lib. Epod.

H

Uc 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.

A

Ppeare 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,

Cælumque paulatim subit,

Et solida subter terga scopulorum arduo

Securus insessu premit:

Arcisque 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

Magnæque laus Oenotriæ.

Circùm coruscis scena quercetis viret,

Cælumque verrit frondibus,

Suoque colles vestit, & patentibus

Sese theatris explicat.

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.

Admota muris ponè Nympharum domus

Aprica præbet littora:

Ripamque Baccho jungit, & vallum propè.

Lentis flagellat fluctibus.

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.

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.

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.

Intonsa curvo monte circumstant juga,

Mitesque despectant aquas.

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.

With rugged tops the bending mountaines round

Upon the slow calme streames looke downe.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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;

Tantùm serenus Vesper, & tenerrima

Etesiarum flamina.

Albique soles, & serena lucidis

Aspirat aura montibus:

Puramque cælo provehunt Horæ facem,

Et Phœbus Horarum pater

Peculiari luce colles irrigat,

Pronáque perfundit die.

Onely the Evening faire, a gentle gale

Of winds that each year never faile:

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.

Ramis tepentes ingruunt Favonii

Jocantis auræ sibilo,

Et temperatis provocant suspiriis,

Lenique somnum murmure.

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.

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.

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,

Silvisque 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.

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.

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.

Hic vel tuarum lene tranabis vadum

Opacus umbris arborum,

Tuosque colleis inter, & tuas procul

Perambulabis ilices:

Vel cum Decembri campus, & prima nive

Vicina canescent juga;

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:

Or in December, when the fields looke white,

And th’Hills, with the earlyest snow doth light;

Nunc impeditas mollibus plagis feras,

Silvamque præcinges metu:

Nunc incitato capream rumpes equo,

Teloque deprendes aprum;

Jactoque cervos collocabis spiculo,

Furesque terrebis lupos.

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,

Quid si Latinæ laus Alexander plagæ,

Sacræque sidus purpuræ,

Tecum paterno feriabitur solo,

Seseque curis eximet;

Tuique cives, hospitesque civium

Toto fruemur gaudio.

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.

To the Fountaine Sona,

When hee returned.

Ode 2. Lib. Epod.

F

Ons 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.

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.

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, lyræque Vatis: haud frustrà sacer

Nam si quid Urbanus probat,

Olim fluenti leuè Blandusiæ nihil

Aut Sirmioni debeas.

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.

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.

Ode 3. Lib. Epod.

A

T 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,

Rixasque vitat, & scelesta curiæ

Rapacioris limina.

B

Ut, 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.

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 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!

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!

Volvuntur aureis interim stellaæ rotis,

Pigrumque linquunt exulem,

Per ora cujus uberes eunt aquæ,

Somnos quod avertat graveis.

At quando lotum Gangis aut Indi fretis

Jam Phœbus attollit caput,

Mentis profundus, & sui totus minor

Irata flectit numina:

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;

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:

Vel cum sereno fulserit dies Jove,

Aprilibusque feriis,

Assueta cælo lumina, in terras vocat

Lateque prospectum jacit,

Camposque lustrat, & relucentem suâ

Miratur in scenâ Deum.

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.

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.

Egóne solus, solus in terris piger

Tenace figor pondere?

Sic & propinquas allocutus arbores,

Et multa coram fontibus

Rivisque fatus, quærit Auctorem Deum

Formosa per vestigia.

Am I alone, wretch that I am, fast bound

And held with heavy weight, to th’ground?

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.

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;

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,

Pressique meta lactis, & purus calix,

Et hospitalis amphora,

Et fraga, raris verna quæ dumis legit,

Jucunda panis præmia.

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’.

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.

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.

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.

Remugit ingens interim tauris nemus,

Umbrosa balant flumina;

Et aut in antris garriunt acanthides,

Aut in rubis luscinia.

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.

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.

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.

At nec tacemus ponè considentium

Dulcis manus sodalium;

Nec infacetâ sermo differtur morâ,

Sed innocentibus jocis,

Multoque tinctus, sed verecundo sale,

Innoxium trahit dîem.

Hæc si videret fænerator Alphius,

Olim futurus rusticus,

Quam collocarat Idibus pecuniam,

Nollet Kalendis ponere.

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.

Epig. 4. Ex Lib. Ep.

Veniat delectus meus in hortum ſuum.    Cant. 5.

Epig. 4.

Let my beloved come into his Garden. Cant. 5.

P

Ulcher 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.

L

Ove 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.

Who is thy Beloved? Out of Cant. 5.

Lib. Epig. 37.

Q

Ualis 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.

W

Hat 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.

Epig. 40.

E

T fugis, & fugiens clamas, quid sponsa moraris?

Non fugis, ut fugias: ut capiare, fugis,

T

Hou 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.

Ep. 48.

To —— bearing Lillyes in her hand.

H

Æc, 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?

T

Hese 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.

Ex. Lib. Ep. 51.

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

F

Ertur 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?

W

Ith 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.

The voyce of Chriſt upon the Croſſe.

I THIRST.

A

H 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.

A

Las 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.

end div maintext

PUBLICATIONS OF THE AUGUSTAN REPRINT SOCIETY

Many of the listed titles are available from Project Gutenberg. Where possible, links are included.

FIRST YEAR (1946-1947)

Numbers 1-6 out of print.

Titles:

1. Richard Blackmore’s Essay upon Wit (1716), and Addison’s Freeholder No. 45 (1716).

2. Anon., Essay on Wit (1748), together with Characters by Flecknoe, and Joseph Warton’s Adventurer Nos. 127 and 133.

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

4. Samuel Cobb’s Of Poetry and Discourse on Criticism (1707).

5. Samuel Wesley’s Epistle to a Friend Concerning Poetry (1700) and Essay on Heroic Poetry (1693).

6. Anon., Representation of the Impiety and Immorality of the Stage (1704) and anon., Some Thoughts Concerning the Stage (1704).

SECOND YEAR (1947-1948)

7.   John Gay’s The Present State of Wit (1711); and a section on Wit from The English Theophrastus (1702).

8.   Rapin’s De Carmine Pastorali, translated by Creech (1684).

9.   T. Hanmer’s (?) Some Remarks on the Tragedy of Hamlet (1736).

10.   Corbyn Morris’ Essay towards Fixing the True Standards of Wit, etc. (1744).

11.   Thomas Purney’s Discourse on the Pastoral (1717).

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

THIRD YEAR (1948-1949)

13.   Sir John Falstaff (pseud.), The Theatre (1720).

14.   Edward Moore’s The Gamester(1753).

15.   John Oldmixon’s Reflections on Dr. Swift’s Letter to Harley (1712); and Arthur Mainwaring’s The British Academy (1712).

16.   Nevil Payne’s Fatal Jealousy (1673).

17.   Nicholas Rowe’s Some Account of the Life of Mr. William Shakespeare (1709).

18.   “Of Genius,” in The Occasional Paper, Vol. III, No. 10 (1719); and Aaron Hill’s Preface to The Creation (1720).

FOURTH YEAR (1949-1950)

19.   Susanna Centlivre’s The Busie Body (1709).

20.   Lewis Theobold’s Preface to The Works of Shakespeare (1734).

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).

23.   John Dryden’s His Majesties Declaration Defended (1681).

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.

FIFTH YEAR (1950-1951)

25.   Thomas Baker’s The Fine Lady’s Airs (1709).

26.   Charles Macklin’s The Man of the World (1792).

27.   Frances Reynolds’ An Enquiry Concerning the Principles of Taste, and of the Origin of Our Ideas of Beauty, etc. (1785).

28.   John Evelyn’s An Apologie for the Royal Party (1659); and A Panegyric to Charles the Second (1661).

29.   Daniel Defoe’s A Vindication of the Press (1718).

30.   Essays on Taste from John Gilbert Cooper’s Letters Concerning Taste, 3rd edition (1757), & John Armstrong’s Miscellanies (1770).

SIXTH YEAR (1951-1952)

31.   Thomas Gray’s An Elegy Wrote in a Country Church Yard (1751); and The Eton College Manuscript.

32.   Prefaces to Fiction; Georges de Scudéry’s Preface to Ibrahim (1674), etc.

33.   Henry Gally’s A Critical Essay on Characteristic-Writings (1725).

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).

36.   Joseph Harris’s The City Bride (1696).

SEVENTH YEAR (1952-1953)

37.   Thomas Morrison’s A Pindarick Ode on Painting (1767).

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.

end div ars

Additional Notes

Variant Spellings

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 in the original.

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

Long s (ſ)

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. Misprints are shown in red, correct forms in blue; the page thumbnails are linked to larger views. Note the one ſ-for-f error on page 12.

“Ode 44, Lib. 4.”

The printed number is retained, though it is almost certainly an error for “14” (between 13 and 15). The error may have been carried over from the source text.

Vilna : Vilia

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

Page Numbering

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.

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Table of Contents

The Augustan Reprint Society

MATHIAS CASIMIRE SARBIEWSKI

The Odes of Casimire, Translated by G. Hils

(1646)

With an Introduction by Maren-Sofie Roestvig

INTRODUCTION

THE

ODES

OF

CASIMIRE

Tranſlated by G. H.

Contents

PUBLICATIONS OF THE AUGUSTAN REPRINT SOCIETY

Additional Notes

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