Here I beheld that youth, to whom each | Ah, shall I ever, a long time hence, the bounds of my country year, Melibus, During twice six days ascends the smoke | And the roof of my lowly cottage cov of our altars. Fortunate old man! So then thy fields will be left thee, And large enough for thee, though naked stone and the marish All thy pasture-lands with the dreggy rush may encompass. No unaccustomed food thy gravid ewes shall endanger, Nor of the neighboring flock the dire contagion infect them. Fortunate old man! Here among familiar rivers, And these sacred founts, shalt thou take the shadowy coolness. On this side, a hedge along the neighboring cross-road, Where Hyblæan bees ever feed on the flower of the willow, Often with gentle susurrus to fall asleep shall persuade thee. Yonder, beneath the high rock, the pruner shall sing to the breezes, Nor meanwhile shall thy heart's delight, the hoarse wood-pigeons, Nor the turtle-dove cease to mourn from aerial elm-trees. TITYRUS. Therefore the agile stags shall sooner feed in the ether, And the billows leave the fishes bare on the sea-shore, Sooner, the border-lands of both overpassed, shall the exiled Parthian drink of the Soane, or the German drink of the Tigris, Than the face cf him shall glide away from my bosom ! MELIBUS. But we hence shall go, a part to the thirsty Africs, Part to Scythia come, and the rapid Cretan Oaxes, And to the Britons from all the universe utterly sundered. ered with greensward Seeing, with wonder behold, — my kingdoms, a handful of wheat-ears! Shall an impious soldier possess these lands newly cultured, And these fields of corn a barbarian? Lo, whither discord Us wretched people hath brought for whom our fields we have planted! Graft, Melibus, thy pear-trees now, put in order thy vineyards. Go, Never again henceforth outstretched in my verdurous cavern my goats, go hence, my flocks so happy aforetime. Shall I behold you afar from the bushy precipice hanging. Songs no more shall I sing; not with me, ye goats, as your shepherd, Shall ye browse on the bitter willow or blooming laburnum. TITYRUS. Nevertheless, this night together with me canst thou rest thee Here on the verdant leaves; for us there are mellowing apples, Chestnuts soft to the touch, and clouted cream in abundance; And the high roofs now of the villages smoke in the distance, And from the lofty mountains are falling larger the shadows. OVID IN EXILE, AT TOMIS, IN BESSARABIA, NEAR THE MOUTHS OF THE DANUBE. TRISTIA, Book III., Elegy X. SHOULD any one there in Rome remember Övid the exile, And, without me, my name still in the city survive; Tell him that under stars which never set in the ocean I am existing still, here in a barbarous land. Fierce Sarmatians encompass me round, and the Bessi and Getæ ; Names how unworthy to be sung by a genius like mine! Yet when the air is warm, intervening | There where ships have sailed, men go on Ister defends us : He, as he flows, repels inroads of war with his waves. foot; and the billows, Solid made by the frost, hoof-beats of horses indent. But when the dismal winter reveals its Over unwonted bridges, with water glid hideous aspect, When all the earth becomes white with a marble-like frost ; And when Boreas is loosed, and the snow hurled under Arcturus, Then these nations, in sooth, shudder and shiver with cold. Deep lies the snow, and neither the sun nor the rain can dissolve it; Boreas hardens it still, makes it forever remain. Hence, ere the first has melted away, another succeeds it, And two years it is wont, in many places, to lie. And so great is the power of the Northwind awakened, it levels Lofty towers with the ground, roofs uplifted bears off. Wrapped in skins, and with trousers sewed, they contend with the weather, And their faces alone of the whole body are seen. ing beneath them, The Sarmatian steers drag their barbarian carts. Scarcely shall I be believed; yet when naught is gained by a falsehood, Absolute credence then should to a witness be given. I have beheld the vast Black Sea of ice all compacted, And a slippery crust pressing its motionless tides. 'T is not enough to have seen, I have trodden this indurate ocean; Dry shod passed my foot over its uppermost wave. If thou hadst had of old such a sea as this is, Leander ! Then thy death had not been charged as a crime to the Strait. Nor can the curvéd dolphins uplift themselves from the water; All their struggles to rise merciless winter prevents ; Often their tresses, when shaken, with And though Boreas sound with roar of pendent icicles tinkle, And their whitened beards shine with the gathering frost. Wines consolidate stand, preserving the form of the vessels; No more draughts of wine, - pieces presented they drink. Why should I tell you how all the rivers are frozen and solid, And from out of the lake frangible water is dug? wings in commotion, In the blockaded gulf never a wave will there be; And the ships will stand hemmed in by the frost, as in marble, Nor will the oar have power through the stiff waters to cleave. Fast-bound in the ice have I seen the fishes adhering, Yet notwithstanding this some of them still were alive. Hence, if the savage strength of omnipotent Boreas freezes Whether the salt-sea wave, whether the refluent stream, Some take flight, and none being left to defend their possessions, Unprotected, their goods pillage and plunder become; Cattle and creaking carts, the little wealth of the country, TRISTIA, BOOK III., Elegy XII. Now the zephyrs diminish the cold, and the year being ended, Winter Mæotian seems longer than ever before; And the Ram that bore unsafely the burden of Helle, Now makes the hours of the day equal with those of the night. And what riches beside indigent peas- Now the boys and the laughing girls the ants possess. Some as captives are driven along, their hands bound behind them, Looking backward in vain toward their Lares and lands. Others, transfixed with barbéd arrows, in agony perish, For the swift arrow-heads all have in poison been dipped. What they cannot carry or lead away they demolish, And the hostile flames burn up the innocent cots. Even when there is peace, the fear of war is impending; None, with the ploughshare pressed, furrows the soil any more. Either this region sees, or fears a foe that it sees not, And the sluggish land slumbers in utter neglect. No sweet grape lies hidden here in the shade of its vine-leaves, No fermenting must fills and o'erflows the deep vats. Apples the region denies; nor would Acontius have found here Aught upon which to write words for his mistress to read. Naked and barren plains without leaves or trees we behold here, Places, alas unto which no happy man would repair. Since then this mighty orb lies open so wide upon all sides, Has this region been found only my prison to be? violet gather, Which the fields bring forth, nobody sowing the seed. Thrives the stage; and applause, with | And that thy sorrowful head, Germania, voices at variance, thunders, And the Theatres three for the three Four times happy is he, and times without number is happy, Who the city of Rome, uninterdicted, enjoys. thou, the rebellious, Under the feet, at last, of the Great Whoso shall tell me these things, that not to have seen will afflict me, Forthwith unto my house welcomed as guest shall he be. But all I see is the snow in the vernal Woe is me! Is the house of Ovid in sunshine dissolving, And the waters no more delved from the indurate lake. Nor is the sea now frozen, nor as before o'er the Ister Comes the Sarmatian boor driving his stridulous cart. Hitherward, nevertheless, some keels already are steering, Scythian lands now? And doth punishment now give me its place for a home? Grant, ye gods, that Cæsar make this not my house and my homestead, But decree it to be only the inn of my pain. And on this Pontic shore alien vessels ON THE TERRACE OF THE AIGA will be. passes, Rarely he comes to these shores, wholly of harbors devoid. Whether he knoweth Greek, or whether in Latin he speaketh, Surely on this account he the more welcome will be. Also perchance from the mouth of the Strait and the waters Propontic, Unto the steady South-wind, some one is spreading his sails. Whosoever he is, the news he can faithfully tell me, Which may become a part and an approach to the truth. He, I pray, may be able to tell me the triumphs of Cæsar, Which he has heard of, and vows paid to the Latian Jove; LADES. The Highway says: My wheel-tracks To the pale climates of the North; Here, in the shade, this life of ours, These red-tiled roofs, this fruitful soil, Beneath these mountains stripped of trees, | Under these leafy vaults and walls, Of mingled mist and sunshine made; Upon these shores, where all invites, The festival of sense and heart; This limpid space of time prolong, Vanish, ye frightful, gloomy views! Ye torrents, that with might and main Arise, ye landscapes full of charms, You I perceive, ye meadows green, Yon wreath of smoke, that mounts so And bear me thither, where the soul Where all things soothe the mind's distress, Where all things teach me and console. FORSAKEN. FROM THE GERMAN. SOMETHING the heart must have to cherish, Must love and joy and sorrow learn, Something with passion clasp, or perish, And in itself to ashes burn. So to this child my heart is clinging, And its frank eyes, with look intense, Me from a world of sin are bringing Back to a world of innocence. Disdain must thou endure forever; Strong may thy heart in danger be! Thou shalt not fail! but ah, be never False as thy father was to me. Never will I forsake thee, faithless, And thou thy mother ne'er forsake, Until her lips are white and breathless, Until in death her eyes shall break. |