Joseph Trapp

"Adjectis istiusmodi notis nitori paginae detractum fore existimavimus."

"Death, judgment, heaven, and hell! Think, Christians, think! You stand on vast eternity's dread brink. Faith and repentance, piety and prayer! Despise this world, the next be all your care. Thus while my tomb the solemn silence breaks, And to the eye this cold dumb marble speaks, Though dead I preach, if ever with ill success, Living I strove the important truths to press, Your precious, your immortal souls to save; Hear me, at least, oh, hear me from my grave."

"The art and triumph of poetry are in nothing more seen and felt than in moving the passions."

"However poetry may have been dishonoured by the follies of some and the vices of others, the abuse or corruption of the best things being always the worst, it will notwithstanding be ever regarded, as it ever has been, by the wisest and most judicious of men as the very flower of human thinking, the most exquisite spirit that can be extracted from the wit and learning of mankind."

"Poetry itself being the music of thoughts and words, as music is the poetry of sounds."

"He who says he values no translation of this or that poem because he understands the original, has indeed no true relish, that is, in effect, no true understanding of either."

"If some gentlemen are resolved that blank verse shall be prose, they have my free leave to enjoy their saying, provided I may have theirs to think they mean nothing by it, unless they can prove that rhyme is essential to metre; consequently that the Goths and monks were the first inventers of verse, and that Homer and Virgil, as well as Milton, wrote nothing but prose."

"His versification here, as everywhere else, is generally flowing and harmonious, and a multitude of beauties of all kinds are scattered through the whole. But then, besides his often grossly mistaking his author's sense, as a translator he is extremely licentious. Whatever he alledges to the contrary in his preface, he makes no scruple of adding or retrenching as his turn is best served by either. In many places, where he shines most as a poet he is least a translator, and where you most admire Mr. Dryden, you see least of Virgil."

"Of mine the world will and ought to be judge, whatever I say or think, and its judgment in these matters is never erroneous."

"Arms and the man I sing who first from Troy Came to the Italian and Lavinian shores, Exiled by fate; much tossed on land and sea By power divine and cruel Juno's rage; Much too in war he suffered, till he reared A city and to Latium brought his gods: Whence sprung the Latin progeny, the kings Of Alba, and the walls of towering Rome."

"Her Amazonian files with lunar shields Penthesilea leads, and in the midst Of thousand storms, beneath her naked pap Her golden belt she buckles, warlike maid, And, though a virgin, dares engage with men."

"If Helenus has any skill, If any faith, and if Apollo right Inspires his prophet: one thing, goddess-born, One thing, above the rest, I will advise, and oft repeat it: with religious prayer First Juno's deity adore; to her Pay willing sacrifices, and with vows, Suppliant, overpower the mighty queen of heaven."

"Aurora, from Tithonus' saffron bed Now rising, sprinkled over the world with light."

"Two gates of sleep there are: the one of horn, Through which with ease the real phantoms pass; With polished elephant the other shines, Through which the manes send false dreams to light."

"Here, in the brakes and savage dens of beasts, He nursed his daughter from the dugs of mares, Milking their teats into her tender lips. Soon as the infant first with doubtful feet Could press the ground, her little hands he filled With pointed darts, and on her shoulder hung A bow and quiver. No soft caul of gold Her tresses strains; nor flows her waving gown: Instead of these a tiger's horrid hide Hangs from her head, and over her back descends. Darts with her tender hand even then she threw; And, whirling round her head a sounding sling, Struck a Strymonian crane, or snow-white swan."

"To him the wind with doubtful terror wafts The mingled noise: hoarse murmurs of distress And clamours from the city pierce his ears. Ah me! what sounds confused, what cries disturb The town? Why rush the clamours from the walls? He said; and, with his coursers' reins repressed, In dumb amaze stood listening."

"Confounded with the crowd of various thoughts, And stiffening with amaze, the hero stood, In silence deep: within his bosom boils Disdainful shame, and grief to madness wrought, And love inflamed with rage, and conscious worth."

"As when, complaining in melodious groans, Sweet Philomel, beneath a poplar shade, Mourns her lost young, which some rough village hind Observing, from their nest, unfledged, has stole: She weeps all night; and, perched upon a bough, With plaintive notes repeated fills the grove."

"When in her turn the moon obscure withdraws Her light, and setting stars persuade to sleep: Lonely she pines within the empty court, Lies on the couch which just before []he left; Him absent, absent still she hears and sees."

"Some beauties are the more so, for not being capable of explanation. I feel it, though I cannot account for it."

"A man cannot command his own motions while he reads this; the very verses are alive; and the reader is transported out of himself."

"The king, observing with judicious eyes The state of both his universities, To Oxford sent a troop of horse, and why? That learned body wanted loyalty; To Cambridge books, as very well discerning How much that loyal body wanted learning."

"Read the commandments, Trapp, translate no further; For there 'tis written, Thou shalt do no murder."

"His book may continue its existence as long as it is the clandestine refuge of schoolboys."

"To Dr. Trapp's unrhymed version of the Augustan Epic [...] I am disposed to attribute much more praise than it has been its fortune to obtain. Trapp was a scholar and a critic; and, fully possessing the sense of his author, he has communicated it, at all times, in flowing numbers, and, occasionally, in poetic diction. His notes discover accurate learning; and his prefaces contain much erudite and tasteful criticism. To any reader, unversed in the Roman language and desirous of becoming acquainted with Virgil, I would recommend Trapp as his instructor: for in the volumes of the Oxford professor is to be found a greater mass of Virgilian information than can be obtained from any other single work in our language."

"Better than Virgil? Yes—perhaps— But then, by Jove, 'tis Dr. Trapp's!"