2 Though Scythia's icy cliffs he treads, Or horrid Afric's faithless sands; Or where the famed Hydaspes spreads His liquid wealth o'er barbarous lands.
3 For while, by Chlöe's image charm'd, Too far in Sabine woods I stray'd; Me singing, careless and unarm'd, A grisly wolf surprised, and fled.
4 No savage more portentous stain'd Apulia's spacious wilds with gore; None fiercer Juba's thirsty land, Dire nurse of raging lions, bore.
5 Place me where no soft summer gale Among the quivering branches sighs; Where clouds condensed for ever veil With horrid gloom the frowning skies:
6 Place me beneath the burning line, A clime denied to human race; I'll sing of Chlöe's charms divine, Her heavenly voice, and beauteous face.
1 Clouds do not always veil the skies, Nor showers immerse the verdant plain; Nor do the billows always rise, Or storms afflict the ruffled main.
2 Nor, Valgius, on the Armenian shores Do the chain'd waters always freeze; Not always furious Boreas roars, Or bends with violent force the trees.
3 But you are ever drown'd in tears, For Mystes dead you ever mourn; No setting Sol can ease your cares, But finds you sad at his return.
4 The wise, experienced Grecian sage Mourn'd not Antilochus so long; Nor did King Priam's hoary age So much lament his slaughter'd son. 5 Leave off, at length, these woman's sighs, Augustus' numerous trophies sing; Repeat that prince's victories, To whom all nations tribute bring.
6 Niphates rolls an humbler wave, At length the undaunted Scythian yields, Content to live the Romans' slave, And scarce forsakes his native fields.
OF PART OF THE DIALOGUE BETWEEN HECTOR AND ANDROMACHE.--FROM THE SIXTH BOOK OF HOMER'S ILIAD.
She ceased: then godlike Hector answer'd kind, (His various plumage sporting in the wind): That post, and all the rest, shall be my care; But shall I then forsake the unfinish'd war? How would the Trojans brand great Hector's name, And one base action sully all my fame, Acquired by wounds and battles bravely fought! Oh! how my soul abhors so mean a thought! Long have I learn'd to slight this fleeting breath, And view with cheerful eyes approaching death. 10 The inexorable Sisters have decreed That Priam's house and Priam's self shall bleed: The day shall come, in which proud Troy shall yield, And spread its smoking ruins o'er the field; Yet Hecuba's, nor Priam's hoary age, Whose blood shall quench some Grecian's thirsty rage, Nor my brave brothers that have bit the ground, Their souls dismiss'd through many a ghastly wound, Can in my bosom half that grief create, As the sad thought of your impending fate; 20 When some proud Grecian dame shall tasks impose, Mimic your tears, and ridicule your woes: Beneath Hyperia's waters shall you sweat, And, fainting, scarce support the liquid weight: Then shall some Argive loud insulting cry, Behold the wife of Hector, guard of Troy! Tears, at my name, shall drown those beauteous eyes, And that fair bosom heave with rising sighs: Before that day, by some brave hero's hand, May I lie slain, and spurn the bloody sand! 30