XC.

*And I will give thee as a good-will token
The beautiful wand of wealth and happiness;
A perfect three-leaved rod of gold unbroken,
Whose magic will thy footsteps ever bless;
And whatsoever by Jove's voice is spoken
Of earthly or divine from its recess,
It like a loving soul to thee will speak,
And more than this do thou forbear to seek ;

XCI.

"For, dearest child, the divinations high Which thou requirest, 'tis unlawful ever

That thou, or any other deity,

Should understand-and vain were the endea

vor;

For they are hidden in Jove's mind, and I,

In trust of them, have sworn that I would never Betray the counsels of Jove's inmost will To any god-the oath was terrible.

XCII.

"Then, golden-wanded brother, ask me not To speak the fates by Jupiter designed; But be it mine to tell their various lot

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, shal' find avail in me.

XCIII.

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 mist

His road—whilst I among my other hoards
His gifts deposit. Yet, O son of May,
I have another wondrous thing to say:

XCIV.

"There are three Fates, three virgin sisters, who,
Rejoicing in their wind-outspeeding wings,
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. [dooms,
My father cared not. Whilst they search out
They sit apart and feed on honeycombs.

XCV.

"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
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.

XCVI.

Take these and the fierce oxen, Maia's child. 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. Thou dost alone the veil of death uplift : Thou givest not-yet this is a great gift."

XCVII.

Thus King Apollo loved the child of May
In truth, and Jove covered them with love and

joy.

Hermes with gods and men even from that day 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.

TO THE SUN.

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

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
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;
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 ethereal, delicately twined,

Glows in the stream of the uplifting wind.
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.

TO THE MOON.

DAUGHTERS of Jove, whose voice is melody,
Muses, who know and rule all minstrelsy!

Sing the wide-winged Moon. Around the earth,
From her immortal head in Heaven shot forth
Far light is scattered-boundless glory springs
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,
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;
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 Mingled in love and sleep-to whom she bore Pandeia, a bright maid of beauty rare Among the gods, whose lives eternal are.