Epic Poetry

"His corse the bright-armed heroes thrice surround, And raise in seemly form the hallowed mound."

"Inspired by thee, O Phoebus, I resound The glorious deeds of heroes long renowned, Whom Pelias urged the Golden Fleece to gain, And well-built Argo wafted over the main, Through the Cyanean rocks."

"The gallant band beheld with wondering eyes, Fierce as Jove's fiery bolt, the radiant prize."

"Rise may my Furies, vengeance to demand, And distant drive thee from thy native land."

"As some fair dame, when Cynthia rises bright, Beholds the beamy splendours with delight, Which from her vestment strong-reflected rise; Thus gloried Jason in the glistering prize. The flaming rays, that from its surface flowed, Beamed on his cheeks, and on his forehead glowed."

"Curse of mankind! from thee contentions flow, Disastrous love! and every heart-felt woe."

"With high-arched neck, in front the dragon lies, And towards the strangers turns his sleepless eyes; Aloud he hisses: the wide woods around, And Phasis' banks return the doleful sound. Colchians far distant from Titanus' shore, Heard even to Lycus' streams the hideous roar."

"He left one sandal rooted in the mud."

"The mother, starting from her bed of rest, Fears for her babe reclining on her breast, And closely clasping to her fondling arms, Protects her trembling infant from alarms."

"Turned from the murderous scene aside distressed, And veiled her guilty face beneath her vest."

"With pleasure still may distant times rehearse And added years on years exalt my verse!"

"Some bring dry wood, and some in order spread Soft leaves and herbage for a spacious bed."

"Thus wailed the fair, and seized, with horrid joy, Drugs foes to life, and potent to destroy; A magazine of death! again she pours From her swoln eye-lids tears in shining showers. With grief insatiate, comfortless she stands, And opes the casket, but with trembling hands. A sudden fear her labouring soul invades, Struck with the horrors of the infernal shades: She stands deep-musing with a faded brow, Absorbed in thought, a monument of woe! While all the comforts that on life attend, The cheerful converse, and the faithful friend, By thought deep imaged in her bosom play, Endearing life, and charm despair away. Enlivening suns with sweeter light arise, And every object brightens to her eyes. Then from her hand the baneful drug she throws, Consents to live, recovered from her woes."

"Meanwhile the maid her secret thoughts enjoyed, And one dear object all her soul employed: Her train's gay sports no pleasure can restore, Vain was the dance, and music charmed no more; She hates each object, every face offends; In every wish her soul to Jason sends: With sharpened eyes the distant lawn explores, To find the hero whom her soul adores; At every whisper of the passing air, She starts, she turns, and hopes her Jason there; Again she fondly looks, nor looks in vain; He comes, her Jason shines along the plain. As when, emerging from the watery way, Refugent Sirius lifts his golden ray, He shines terrific! for his burning breath Taints the red air with fevers, plagues and death; Such to the nymph approaching Jason shows, Bright author of unutterable woes; Before her eyes a swimming darkness spread, Her flushed cheeks glowed, her very heart was dead: No more her knees their wonted office knew, Fixed, without motion, as to earth they grew. Her train recedes—the meeting lovers gaze In silent wonder, and in still amaze..."

"Ah me! what words shall purge the guilt away? ...Shall I, all lost to shame, to Jason fly? And yet I must——if Jason bleeds I die! Honour farewell! adieu for ever, shame! Hail, black disgrace! and branded be my fame! Live, Jason, live! enjoy the vital air! Live through my aid! and fly where winds can bear. But when he flies, ye poisons, lend your powers, That day Medea treads the infernal shores! Yet what reproach will after death be cast? The dames of Colchus will my honour blast— I hear them cry—the false Medea's dead, Through guilty passion for a stranger's bed; Medea, careless of her virgin fame, Preferred a stranger to a father's name! O may I rather yield this vital breath, Than bear that base dishonour worse than death!"

"Her eyes to earth she bends with modest grace, And heaven in smiles is opened on her face."

"Now rising shades a solemn scene display Over the wide earth, and over the etherial way; All night the sailor marks the northern team, And golden circlet of Orion's beam: A deep repose the weary watchman shares, And the faint wanderer sleeps away his cares; Even the fond maid, while yet all breathless lie Her child of love, in slumber seals her eyes: No sound of village-dog, no noise invades The death-like silence of the midnight shades; Alone Medea wakes: to love a prey, Restless she rolls, and groans the night away: For lovely Jason cares on cares succeed, Lest vanquished by the bulls her hero bleed; In sad review dire scenes of horrors rise, Quick beats her heart, from thought to thought she flies."

"As from the stream-stored vase with dubious ray The sun-beams dancing from the surface play; Now here, now there the trembling radiance falls, Alternate flashing round the illumined walls: Thus fluttering bounds the trembling virgin's blood, And from her eyes descends a pearly flood."

"For Jason beamed in beauty's charms so bright, The maid admiring, languished with delight. Thus when the rising sun appears in view, On the fair rose dissolves the radiant dew."

"O Goddess, daughter of the eternal king, Medea's various cares and counsels sing."

"It chanced the nymphs, in neighbouring streams that dwell, Then kept a concert at the sacred well. In Dian's praise they raised the nightly song, All who to high, aerial hills belong; All who in caverns hide, or devious rove The mountain-forest, or the shady grove."

"Νήσοιο πλαγκτῆς."

"Old bards affirm this warlike ship was made By skilful Argus, with Minerva's aid."

"Two bulls in Mars's field your wonder claim, Their hoofs of brass, their nostrils breathing flame. These oft I seize, and to the yoke constrain To plough four acres of the stubborn plain. No seeds I sow, but scatter over the land A dragon's teeth; when, lo! an armed band Of chiefs spring up: but soon as they appear, I slay the embattled squadrons with my spear. Each morn I yoke the bulls, at eve resign: Perform this labour, and the fleece is thine."

"Honey, sweetest labour of the bees."

"[Mr. Fawkes's] versification is, for the most part, easy, fluent, and perspicuous. And though his language, it must be confessed, is too frequently deficient in elevation and dignity, yet that deficiency is in some degree compensated for by a clearness of expression, which seldom fails to reflect the sense of the original with a distinctness and truth not always to be met with in translation."

"Pelias, whose looks his latent fears expressed, Fired with a bold adventure Jason's breast; That, sunk in ocean, or on some rude shore Prostrate, he never might view his country more."

"Know, at Æeta'a court a maiden dwells Deep skilled by Hecate in magic spells: All plants she knows that grow on mountains steep, On vales, or meads, or in the boundless deep; By these she quells the fire's relentless force, Stops the mad torrent in its headlong course, Retards the planets as they roll on high, And draws the Moon reluctant from the sky."

"With rage impetuous forth the monsters came, And from their nostrils issued streams of flame..."

"... with a parting kiss her bed she pressed, Clung round each door, and even the walls caressed. A lock she tore of loosely-flowing hair, And safe consigned it to her mother's care, The sacred relic of her virgin-fame."

"The Cyprian goddess over Olympus flies, To find her son in every dale she pries, Through heaven's gay meads the queen pursued her way, And found him there with Ganymede at play. Him Jove translated to the blest abodes, And, famed for beauty, placed among the Gods. With golden dice, like boon compeers they played: Love in his hollow hand some cubes conveyed, Resolved to cheat young Ganymede with those, While on his cheeks the conscious crimson rose. The Phrygian boy was vanquished to his cost, Two dice alone remained, and those he lost. Silent he sat in dull dejected state, Enraged that Cupid should deride his fate: His loss increasing with protracted play, He went a wretch with empty hands away, Nor saw he Venus: she her Cupid took Fast by the cheek, and thus upbraiding spoke: "And can you laugh, you sly, deceitful elf? Such tricks will bring a scandal on yourself...""

"Savage or social, all alike approve The sacred rites of hospitable Jove."

"Nay more, young Jason claims my love and grace, Whom late I met returning from the chase, Returning met, as over the world I strayed, And human kind, and human works surveyed; Hard by Aurarus I beheld the man, Wide over its banks whose rapid currents ran; (From snow-clad hills, in torrents loud and strong, Roared the swoln streams the rugged rocks among.) He on his back, though like a crone I stood, Securely brought me over the foaming flood; This won my love."

"At Colchos still this barbarous rite prevails: They never burn the bodies of the males, Nor deep in earth their decent limbs compose, And with sepulchral dust the dead enclose; But in raw hides they hang them high in air: And yet, that earth may equal portions share, Departed females to the grave they doom, (Such are their rites) and close them in the tomb."

"Though various perils your attempt oppose, And toils unnumbered bring unnumbered woes; Yet shall ye safe return, ye sons of Greece, Adorned with conquest, and the golden Fleece. Me cruel Fate ordains on Asia's shore To die, nor ever behold my country more. And though my destiny long fixed I knew, Yet, still resolved, I joined the martial crew; Inflamed with glory to the host I came, Of life regardless, emulous of fame."

"... but friendly Juno shrouds Her favourite heroes in a veil of clouds."

"The portal past, young branching vines appear, And high in air their verdant honours rear: Beneath whose boughs, by matchless Vulcan made, Four copious fountains in four currents played; The first with milk, with wine the second glowed, Ambrosial oil the third, the fourth with water flowed; This, as by turns the Pleiads set or rose, Dissolved in summer, and in winter froze."

"How over the new-created world below, On high Olympus' summits crowned with snow, Ophion, and, from ocean sprung of old, The fair Eurynome reigned uncontrolled: How haughty Saturn, with superior sway, Exiled Ophion from the realms of day."

"Here the sweet bard his tuneful lyre unstrung, And ceased the heavenly music of his tongue; But, with the sound entranced, the listening ear Still thought him singing, and still seemed to hear."

"As some good housewife, who, to labour born, Fresh to her loom must rise with early morn; Studious to gain what human wants require, In embers heaped preserves the seeds of fire; Renewed by these the brand rekindling burns, And all the glowing heap to ashes turns: Thus, kindling slow, love's secret flames invade, And torture, as they rise, the troubled maid: Her changeful cheeks the heart-felt anguish show, Now pale they turn, now like the ruby glow."

"They, when on tip-toe raised, in act to fly, Like the light-pinioned vagrants of the sky, Waved their dark wings, and, wondrous to behold! Displayed each plume distinct with drops of gold; While down their backs, of bright cerulean hue, Loose in the winds their wanton tresses flew."

"Whenever he skimmed along the watery plain, With feet unbathed he swept the raging main, Scarce brushed the surface of the briny dew, And light along the liquid level flew."

"Alcimeda embraced her son with tears, Each breast was chilled with sad presaging fears."

"Hard rocks he softened with persuasive song, And soothed the rivers as they rolled along... His lays Pieria's listening trees admire, And move in measures to his melting lyre."

"Haste, royal mother, to your native towers, Pass with your handmaids there the peaceful hours. Forebode not here calamities to come..."

"But Lynceus stands renowned for piercing sight: So keen his beam, that ancient fables tell, He saw, through earth, the wondrous depths of hell."

"Hence from my sight away, Nor longer, traitors, in my kingdom stay: Back, back to Greece your speedy course pursue, Nor idly hope the golden fleece to view. Not for that fleece (vain pretext ye must own) But for my sceptre came ye, and my crown. Had ye not first my feast partook to-day, Your tongues and hands, torn out and lopped away, Should for your bold atrocious crimes atone: My just revenge had spared your feet alone, To bear you hastily to Greece again, Dreading to visit more my just domain, And with your perjuries the gods profane."

"Fronting the door, all lovely and alone, Sat Cytherea on a polished throne. Adown the shoulders of the heavenly fair, In easy ringlets flowed her flaxen hair; And with a golden comb, in matchless grace, She taught each lock its most becoming place."

"Conduct my comrades to the far-famed Fleece, Then safe restore them to the realms of Greece."

"Nor can my mind forget Eliza's name, While vital breath inspires this mortal frame."