Does his spreading root derive,

To branch out a progeny

fair;

Who, fpringing foremost in the chace

Of fame, demands we fhould his triumph grace,
Tuning lyres to vocal lays,

Sweet union of melodious praife;

ANTIS TROPHE III. Meafure 16.

For not only has he borne

Th' Olympian prize, but, with his brother, worn
The garland of renown,

At Pytho and at Ifthmus; where,

Victorious both, they shar'd th' allotted crown,
Joint-honour, won

In twelve impetuous courfes, run

With four unwearied fteeds.

To vanquish in the ftrife fevere
Does all anxiety destroy:
And to this, if wealth fucceeds
With virtues enamel'd, the joy
Luxuriant grows; fuch affluence
Does glorious opportunities difpenfe,
Giving depth of thought to find

Purfuits which please a noble mind.

E PODE III. Measures 10.

Refulgent ftar! to man the pureft beam of light!

The poffeffor of this ftore,

Far-future things difcerning, knows

95

100

105

110

115

Obdurate wretches, once deceas'd, to immediate woes

Confign'd, too late their pains deplore;

121

For

For below

Ere they go,

Sits one in judgment, who pronounces right
On crimes in this wide realm of Jove;

Whofe dire decree no power can e'er remove:

STROPHE IV. Measures 16.

But the good, alike by night,

Alike by day, the fun's unclouded light
Beholding, ever bless'd,

Live an unlaborious life,

Nor anxious interrupt the hallow'd reft
With spade and plow,

The earth to vex, or with the prow

The briny fea, to eat

The bread of care in endless ftrife.

The dread divinities among

The few unaccustomed to wrong,

Who never broke the vow they swore,
A tearless age enjoy for ever-more;
While the wicked hence depart

125

130

135

140

Where foft fea-breazes breathe

Round the island of the blefs'd; where

The trees with golden bloffoms glow;

gay

Where, their brows and arms to wreathe,
Bright garlands on every fide below;

For, fpringing thick in every field,

The earth does golden flowers fpontaneous yield;
And, in every limpid ftream,

The budding gold is feen to gleam:

E PODE IV. Measures 10.

Fair heritage! by righteous Rhadamanth's award;
Who, coëqual, takes his feat

With Saturn, fire divine,

Thy confort, Rhea, who above the reft doth fhine,
High thron'd, thou matron-goddess great:

These among

(Blissful throng!)

150

156

160

Does Peleus and does Cadmus find regard;
And, through his mother's winning prayer

165

To Jove, Achilles dwells immortal there :
STROPHE V. Measures 16.

He who Hector did destroy,

The pillar firm, the whole support, of Troy,

Discerns the mystery unexplain❜d.
He tranfcendent does appear

In knowledge, from Nature who gain'd
His ftore but the dull-letter'd croud,
In cenfure vehement, in nonsense loud,
Clamour idly, wanting skill,

Like crows, in vain, provoking ftill

ANTISTROPHE V. Meafures 16.

The celeftial bird of Jove:

My foul and whom do I

:

Single out with fond defire,

180

But, to the mark addrefs thy bow, nor rove,

185

At him to let illuftrious arrows fly?

My fix'd intent,

My aim, on Agrigentum bent,

190

A folemn oath I plight,

Sincere as honest minds require,

That through an hundred circling years,
With recorded worthies bright,

No rivaling city appears

195

To boast a man more frank to impart

Kind offices to friends with open heart,
Or, with hand amidst his ftore,

Delighting to distribute more

E PODE V. Measures 10.

Than Theron: yet foul calumny, injurious blame,
Did the men of rancour raise

Against his fair renown,

Defamers who by evil actions strove to drown
His good, and to conceal his praise.

200

Can

Can the fand,

On the strand,

Be number'd o'er? Then, true to Theron's fame,
His favours fhowering down delight

On thousands who is able to recite ?

205

THE FIRST ODE OF ANACREON.

ON HIS LUTE.

HE line of Atreus will I fing;

THE

To Cadmus will I tune the ftring:

But, as from ftring to ftring I move,

My lute will only found of Love.

And model the whole lute anew.

The chords I change through every screw,

4

Once more, in fong, my voice I raise,

NATURE the bull with horns fupplies,

The horse with hoofs fhe fortifies,

The fleeting foot on hares beftows,
On lions teeth, two dreadful rows!

12

4

Grants