For they are hidden in Jove’s mind, and I,
In trust of them, have sworn that I would never 720
Betray the counsels of Jove’s inmost will
To any God — the oath was terrible.
92.
‘Then, golden-wanded brother, ask me not
To speak the fates by Jupiter designed;
But be it mine to tell their various lot 725
To the unnumbered tribes of human-kind.
Let good to these, and ill to those be wrought
As I dispense — but he who comes consigned
By voice and wings of perfect augury
To my great shrine, shall find avail in me. 730
93.
‘Him will I not deceive, but will assist;
But he who comes relying on such birds
As chatter vainly, who would strain and twist
The purpose of the Gods with idle words,
And deems their knowledge light, he shall have missed 735
His road — whilst I among my other hoards
His gifts deposit. Yet, O son of May,
I have another wondrous thing to say.
96.
‘There are three Fates, three virgin Sisters, who
Rejoicing in their wind-outspeeding wings, 740
Their heads with flour snowed over white and new,
Sit in a vale round which Parnassus flings
Its circling skirts — from these I have learned true
Vaticinations of remotest things.
My father cared not. Whilst they search out dooms, 745
They sit apart and feed on honeycombs.
95.
‘They, having eaten the fresh honey, grow
Drunk with divine enthusiasm, and utter
With earnest willingness the truth they know;
But if deprived of that sweet food, they mutter 750
All plausible delusions; — these to you
I give; — if you inquire, they will not stutter;
Delight your own soul with them: — any man
You would instruct may profit if he can.
96.
‘Take these and the fierce oxen, Maia’s child — 755
O’er many a horse and toil-enduring mule,
O’er jagged-jawed lions, and the wild
White-tusked boars, o’er all, by field or pool,
Of cattle which the mighty Mother mild
Nourishes in her bosom, thou shalt rule — 760
Thou dost alone the veil from death uplift —
Thou givest not — yet this is a great gift.’
97.
Thus King Apollo loved the child of May
In truth, and Jove covered their love with joy.
Hermes with Gods and Men even from that day 765
Mingled, and wrought the latter much annoy,
And little profit, going far astray
Through the dun night. Farewell, delightful Boy,
Of Jove and Maia sprung, — never by me,
Nor thou, nor other songs, shall unremembered be. 770
HOMER’S HYMN TO CASTOR AND POLLUX.
(Published by Mrs. Shelley, “Poetical Works”, 1839, 2nd edition; dated 1818.)
Ye wild-eyed Muses, sing the Twins of Jove,
Whom the fair-ankled Leda, mixed in love
With mighty Saturn’s Heaven-obscuring Child,
On Taygetus, that lofty mountain wild,
Brought forth in joy: mild Pollux, void of blame, 5
And steed-subduing Castor, heirs of fame.
These are the Powers who earth-born mortals save
And ships, whose flight is swift along the wave.
When wintry tempests o’er the savage sea
Are raging, and the sailors tremblingly 10
Call on the Twins of Jove with prayer and vow,
Gathered in fear upon the lofty prow,
And sacrifice with snow-white lambs, — the wind
And the huge billow bursting close behind,
Even then beneath the weltering waters bear 15
The staggering ship — they suddenly appear,
On yellow wings rushing athwart the sky,
And lull the blasts in mute tranquillity,
And strew the waves on the white Ocean’s bed,
Fair omen of the voyage; from toil and dread 20
The sailors rest, rejoicing in the sight,
And plough the quiet sea in safe delight.
HOMER’S HYMN TO THE MOON.
(Published by Mrs. Shelley, “Poetical Works”, 1839, 2nd edition; dated 1818.)
Daughters of Jove, whose voice is melody,
Muses, who know and rule all minstrelsy
Sing the wide-winged Moon! Around the earth,
Far light is scattered — boundless glory springs; 5
Where’er she spreads her many-beaming wings
The lampless air glows round her golden crown.
But when the Moon divine from Heaven is gone
Under the sea, her beams within abide,
Till, bathing her bright limbs in Ocean’s tide, 10
Clothing her form in garments glittering far,
And having yoked to her immortal car
The beam-invested steeds whose necks on high
Curve back, she drives to a remoter sky
A western Crescent, borne impetuously. 15
Then is made full the circle of her light,
And as she grows, her beams more bright and bright
Are poured from Heaven, where she is hovering then,
A wonder and a sign to mortal men.
The Son of Saturn with this glorious Power 20
Mingled in love and sleep — to whom she bore
Pandeia, a bright maid of beauty rare
Among the Gods, whose lives eternal are.
Hail Queen, great Moon, white-armed Divinity,
Fair-haired and favourable! thus with thee 25
My song beginning, by its music sweet
Shall make immortal many a glorious feat
Of demigods, with lovely lips, so well
Which minstrels, servants of the Muses, tell.
HOMER’S HYMN TO THE SUN.
(Published by Mrs. Shelley, “Poetical Works”, 1839, 2nd edition; dated 1818.)
Offspring of Jove, Calliope, once more
To the bright Sun, thy hymn of music pour;
Whom to the child of star-clad Heaven and Earth
Euryphaessa, large-eyed nymph, brought forth;
Euryphaessa, the famed sister fair 5
Of great Hyperion, who to him did bear
A race of loveliest children; the young Morn,
Whose arms are like twin roses newly born,
The fair-haired Moon, and the immortal Sun,
Who borne by heavenly steeds his race doth run 10
Unconquerably, illuming the abodes
Of mortal Men and the eternal Gods.
Fiercely look forth his awe-inspiring eyes,
Beneath his golden helmet, whence arise
And are shot forth afar, clear beams of light; 15
His countenance, with radiant glory bright,
Beneath his graceful locks far shines around,
And the light vest with which his limbs are bound,
Of woof aethereal delicately twined,
Glows in the stream of the uplifting wind. 20
His rapid steeds soon bear him to the West;
Where their steep flight his hands divine arrest,
And the fleet car with yoke of gold, which he
Sends from bright Heaven beneath the shadowy sea.
HOMER’S HYMN TO THE EARTH: MOTHER OF ALL.
(Published by Mrs. Shelley, “Poetical Works”, 1839, 2nd edition; dated 1818.)
O universal Mother, who dost keep
From everlasting thy foundations deep,
Eldest of things, Great Earth, I sing of thee!
All shapes that have their dwelling in the sea,
All things that fly, or on the ground divine 5
Live, move, and there are nourished — these are thine;
These from thy wealth thou dost sustain; from thee
Fair babes are born, and fruits on every tree
Hang ripe and large, revered Divinity!
The life of mortal men beneath thy sway 10
Is held; thy power both gives and takes away!
Happy are they whom thy mild favours nourish;
All things unstinted round them grow and flourish.
For them, endures the life-sustaining field
Its load of harvest, and their cattle yield 15
Large increase, and their house with wealth is filled.
Such honoured dwell in cities fair and free,
The homes of lovely women, prosperously;
Their sons exult in youth’s new budding gladness,
And their fresh daughters free from care or sadness, 20
With bloom-inwoven dance and happy song,
On the soft flowers the meadow-grass among,
Leap round them sporting — such delights by thee
Are given, rich Power, revered Divinity.
Mother of gods, thou Wife of starry Heaven, 25
Farewell! be thou propitious, and be given
A happy life for this brief melody,
Nor thou nor other songs shall unremembered be.
HOMER’S HYMN TO MINERVA.
(Published by Mrs. Shelley, “Poetical Works”, 1839, 2nd edition; dated 1818.)
I sing the glorious Power with azure eyes,
Athenian Pallas! tameless, chaste, and wise,
Revered and mighty; from his awful head
Whom Jove brought forth, in warlike armour dressed, 5
Golden, all radiant! wonder strange possessed
The everlasting Gods that Shape to see,
Shaking a javelin keen, impetuously
Rush from the crest of Aegis-bearing Jove;
Fearfully Heaven was shaken, and did move 10
Beneath the might of the Cerulean-eyed;
Earth dreadfully resounded, far and wide;
And, lifted from its depths, the sea swelled high
In purple billows, the tide suddenly
Stood still, and great Hyperion’s son long time 15
Checked his swift steeds, till, where she stood sublime,
Pallas from her immortal shoulders threw
The arms divine; wise Jove rejoiced to view.
Child of the Aegis-bearer, hail to thee,
Nor thine nor others’ praise shall unremembered be. 20
HOMER’S HYMN TO VENUS.
(Published by Garnett, “Relics of Shelley”, 1862; dated 1818.)
(VERSES 1-55, WITH SOME OMISSIONS.)
Muse, sing the deeds of golden Aphrodite,
Who wakens with her smile the lulled delight
Of sweet desire, taming the eternal kings
Of Heaven, and men, and all the living things
That fleet along the air, or whom the sea, 5
Or earth, with her maternal ministry,
Nourish innumerable, thy delight
All seek … O crowned Aphrodite!
Three spirits canst thou not deceive or quell: —
Minerva, child of Jove, who loves too well 10
Fierce war and mingling combat, and the fame
Of glorious deeds, to heed thy gentle flame.
Diana … golden-shafted queen,
Is tamed not by thy smiles; the shadows green
Of the wild woods, the bow, the… 15
And piercing cries amid the swift pursuit
Of beasts among waste mountains, — such delight
Is hers, and men who know and do the right.
Nor Saturn’s first-born daughter, Vesta chaste,
Whom Neptune and Apollo wooed the last, 20
Such was the will of aegis-bearing Jove;
But sternly she refused the ills of Love,
And by her mighty Father’s head she swore
An oath not unperformed, that evermore
A virgin she would live mid deities 25
Divine: her father, for such gentle ties
Renounced, gave glorious gifts — thus in his hall
She sits and feeds luxuriously. O’er all
In every fane, her honours first arise
From men — the eldest of Divinities. 30
These spirits she persuades not, nor deceives,
But none beside escape, so well she weaves
Her unseen toils; nor mortal men, nor gods
Who live secure in their unseen abodes.
She won the soul of him whose fierce delight 35
Is thunder — first in glory and in might.
And, as she willed, his mighty mind deceiving,
With mortal limbs his deathless limbs inweaving,
Concealed him from his spouse and sister fair,
Whom to wise Saturn ancient Rhea bare. 40
but in return,
In Venus Jove did soft desire awaken,
That by her own enchantments overtaken,
She might, no more from human union free,
Burn for a nursling of mortality. 45
For once amid the assembled Deities,
The laughter-loving Venus from her eyes
Shot forth the light of a soft starlight smile,
And boasting said, that she, secure the while,
Could bring at Will to the assembled Gods 50
The mortal tenants of earth’s dark abodes,
And mortal offspring from a deathless stem
She could produce in scorn and spite of them.
Therefore he poured desire into her breast
Of young Anchises, 55
Feeding his herds among the mossy fountains
Of the wide Ida’s many-folded mountains, —
Whom Venus saw, and loved, and the love clung
Like wasting fire her senses wild among.
THE CYCLOPS.
A SATYRIC DRAMA TRANSLATED FROM THE GREEK OF EURIPIDES.
(Published by Mrs. Shelley, “Posthumous Poems”, 1824; dated 1819. Amongst the Shelley manuscripts at the Bodleian there is a copy, ‘practically complete,’ which has been collated by Mr. C.D. Locock. See “Examination”, etc., 1903, pages 64-70. ‘Though legible throughout, and comparatively free from corrections, it has the appearance of being a first draft’ (Locock).)
SILENUS. ULYSSES. CHORUS OF SATYRS. THE CYCLOPS.
SILENUS:
O Bacchus, what a world of toil, both now
And ere these limbs were overworn with age,
Have I endured for thee! First, when thou fled’st
The mountain-nymphs who nursed thee, driven afar
By the strange madness Juno sent upon thee; 5
Then in the battle of the Sons of Earth,
When I stood foot by foot close to thy side,
No unpropitious fellow-combatant,
And, driving through his shield my winged spear,
Slew vast Enceladus. Consider now, 10
Is it a dream of which I speak to thee?
By Jove it is not, for you have the trophies!
And now I suffer more than all before.
For when I heard that Juno had devised
A tedious voyage for you, I put to sea 15
With all my children quaint in search of you,
And I myself stood on the beaked prow
And fixed the naked mast; and all my boys
Leaning upon their oars, with splash and strain
Made white with foam the green and purple sea, — 20
And so we sought you, king. We were sailing
Near Malea, when an eastern wind arose,
And drove us to this waste Aetnean rock;
The one-eyed children of the Ocean God,
The man-destroying Cyclopses, inhabit, 25
On this wild shore, their solitary caves,
And one of these, named Polypheme. has caught us
To be his slaves; and so, for all delight
Of Bacchic sports, sweet dance and melody,
We keep this lawless giant’s wandering flocks. 30
My sons indeed on far declivities,
Young things themselves, tend on the youngling sheep,
But I remain to fill the water-casks,
Or sweeping the hard floor, or ministering
Some impious and abominable meal 35
To the fell Cyclops. I am wearied of it!
And now I must scrape up the littered floor
With this great iron rake, so to receive
My absent master and his evening sheep
In a cave neat and clean. Even now I see 40
My children tending the flocks hitherward.
Ha! what is this? are your Sicinnian measures
Even now the same, as when with dance and song
You brought young Bacchus to Althaea’s halls?
CHORUS OF SATYRS:
STROPHE:
Where has he of race divine 45
Wandered in the winding rocks?
Here the air is calm and fine
For the father of the flocks; —
Here the grass is soft and sweet,
And the river-eddies meet 50
In the trough beside the cave,
Bright as in their fountain wave. —
Neither here, nor on the dew
Of the lawny uplands feeding?
Oh, you come! — a stone at you 55
Will I throw to mend your breeding; —
Get along, you horned thing,
Wild, seditious, rambling!
EPODE:
An Iacchic melody
To the golden Aphrodite 60
Will I lift, as erst did I
Seeking her and her delight
With the Maenads, whose white feet
To the music glance and fleet.
Bacchus, O beloved, where, 65
Shaking wide thy yellow hair,
Wanderest thou alone, afar?
To the one-eyed Cyclops, we,
Who by right thy servants are,
Minister in misery, 70
In these wretched goat-skins clad,
Far from thy delights and thee.
SILENUS:
Be silent, sons; command the slaves to drive
The gathered flocks into the rock-roofed cave.
CHORUS:
Go! But what needs this serious haste, O father? 75
SILENUS:
I see a Grecian vessel on the coast,
And thence the rowers with some general
Approaching to this cave. — About their necks
Hang empty vessels, as they wanted food,
And water-flasks. — Oh, miserable strangers! 80