The Complete Poetical Works, vol 3 | Page 2

May?Bore Heaven's dread Supreme. An antique grove _5 Shadowed the cavern where the lovers lay?In the deep night, unseen by Gods or Men,?And white-armed Juno slumbered sweetly then.
2.?Now, when the joy of Jove had its fulfilling,?And Heaven's tenth moon chronicled her relief, _10 She gave to light a babe all babes excelling,?A schemer subtle beyond all belief;?A shepherd of thin dreams, a cow-stealing,?A night-watching, and door-waylaying thief,?Who 'mongst the Gods was soon about to thieve, _15 And other glorious actions to achieve.
3.?The babe was born at the first peep of day;?He began playing on the lyre at noon,?And the same evening did he steal away?Apollo's herds;--the fourth day of the moon _20 On which him bore the venerable May,?From her immortal limbs he leaped full soon,?Nor long could in the sacred cradle keep,?But out to seek Apollo's herds would creep.
4.?Out of the lofty cavern wandering _25 He found a tortoise, and cried out--'A treasure!'?(For Mercury first made the tortoise sing)?The beast before the portal at his leisure?The flowery herbage was depasturing,?Moving his feet in a deliberate measure _30 Over the turf. Jove's profitable son?Eying him laughed, and laughing thus begun:--
5.?'A useful godsend are you to me now,?King of the dance, companion of the feast,?Lovely in all your nature! Welcome, you _35 Excellent plaything! Where, sweet mountain-beast,?Got you that speckled shell? Thus much I know,?You must come home with me and be my guest;?You will give joy to me, and I will do?All that is in my power to honour you. _40
6.?'Better to be at home than out of door,?So come with me; and though it has been said?That you alive defend from magic power,?I know you will sing sweetly when you're dead.'?Thus having spoken, the quaint infant bore, _45 Lifting it from the grass on which it fed?And grasping it in his delighted hold,?His treasured prize into the cavern old.
7.?Then scooping with a chisel of gray steel,?He bored the life and soul out of the beast.-- _50 Not swifter a swift thought of woe or weal?Darts through the tumult of a human breast?Which thronging cares annoy--not swifter wheel?The flashes of its torture and unrest?Out of the dizzy eyes--than Maia's son _55 All that he did devise hath featly done.
8.
And through the tortoise's hard stony skin
At proper distances small holes he made,
And fastened the cut stems of reeds within,
And with a piece of leather overlaid _60 The open space and fixed the cubits in,
Fitting the bridge to both, and stretched o'er all
Symphonious cords of sheep-gut rhythmical.
9.?When he had wrought the lovely instrument,?He tried the chords, and made division meet, _65 Preluding with the plectrum, and there went?Up from beneath his hand a tumult sweet?Of mighty sounds, and from his lips he sent?A strain of unpremeditated wit?Joyous and wild and wanton--such you may _70 Hear among revellers on a holiday.
10.?He sung how Jove and May of the bright sandal?Dallied in love not quite legitimate;?And his own birth, still scoffing at the scandal,?And naming his own name, did celebrate; _75 His mother's cave and servant maids he planned all?In plastic verse, her household stuff and state,?Perennial pot, trippet, and brazen pan,--?But singing, he conceived another plan.
11.
Seized with a sudden fancy for fresh meat, _80 He in his sacred crib deposited
The hollow lyre, and from the cavern sweet
Rushed with great leaps up to the mountain's head,
Revolving in his mind some subtle feat
Of thievish craft, such as a swindler might _85 Devise in the lone season of dun night.
12.?Lo! the great Sun under the ocean's bed has?Driven steeds and chariot--the child meanwhile strode?O'er the Pierian mountains clothed in shadows,?Where the immortal oxen of the God _90 Are pastured in the flowering unmown meadows,?And safely stalled in a remote abode.--?The archer Argicide, elate and proud,?Drove fifty from the herd, lowing aloud.
13.?He drove them wandering o'er the sandy way, _95 But, being ever mindful of his craft,?Backward and forward drove he them astray,?So that the tracks which seemed before, were aft;?His sandals then he threw to the ocean spray,?And for each foot he wrought a kind of raft _100 Of tamarisk, and tamarisk-like sprigs,?And bound them in a lump with withy twigs.
14.?And on his feet he tied these sandals light,?The trail of whose wide leaves might not betray?His track; and then, a self-sufficing wight, _105 Like a man hastening on some distant way,?He from Pieria's mountain bent his flight;?But an old man perceived the infant pass?Down green Onchestus heaped like beds with grass.
15.?The old man stood dressing his sunny vine: _110 'Halloo! old fellow with the crooked shoulder!?You grub those stumps? before they will bear wine?Methinks even you must grow a little older:?Attend, I pray, to this advice of mine,?As you would 'scape what might appal a bolder-- _115 Seeing, see not--and hearing, hear not--and--?If you have understanding--understand.'
16.?So saying, Hermes roused the oxen vast;?O'er shadowy mountain and