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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=457228" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Second Hymn Of Callimachus. To Apollo</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Hah! how the laurel, great Apollo's tree,<br>And all the cavern shakes! Far off, far off, <br>The man that is unhallow'd: for the god,<br>The god approaches. Hark! he knocks; the gates<br>Feel the glad impulse, and the sever'd bars<br>Submissive clink against their brazen portals.<br>Why do the Delian palms incline their boughs,<br>Self-moved, and hovering swans, their throats released <br>From native silence, carol sounds harmonious?<br>Begin young men the hymn: let all your harps<br>Break their inglorious silence, and the dance,<br>In mystic numbers trod, explain the music,<br>But first by ardent prayer and clear lustration<br>Purge the contagious spots of human weakness:<br>Impure no mortal can behold Apollo.<br>So may ye flourish favour'd by the god,<br>In youth with happy nuptials, and in age<br>With silver hairs, and fair descent of children;<br>So lay foundations for aspiring cities,<br>And bless your spreading colonies' increase.<br>Pay sacred reverence to Apollo's song,<br>Lest wrathful the far-shooting god emit<br>His fatal arrows. Silent Nature stands,<br>And seas subside, obedient to the sound <br>Of Iö, Iö Pean! nor dares Thetis<br>Longer bewail her loved Achilles' death;<br>For Phoebus was his foe. Nor must sad Niobe<br>In fruitless sorrow persevere, or weep<br>E'en through the Phyrgian marble. Hapless mother!<br>Whose fondness could compare her mortal offspring<br>To those which fair Latona bore to Jove.<br>Iö! again repeat ye, Iö Pean!<br>Against the Deity 'tis hard to strive.<br>He that resists the power of Ptolemy <br>Resists the power of heaven; for power from heaven<br>Derives, and monarchs rule by gods appointed.<br>Recite Apollo's praise till night draws on,<br>The ditty still unfinish'd, and the day<br>Unequal to the godhead's attributes<br>Various, and matter copious of your songs.<br>Sublime at Jove's right hand Apollo sits,<br>And thence distributes honour, gracious king,<br>And thence of verse perpetual. From his robe<br>Flows light ineffable; his harp, his quiver,<br>And Lictian bow, are gold: with golden sandals<br>His feet are shod; how rich! how beautiful! <br>Beneath his steps the yellow mineral rises,<br>And earth reveals her treasures. Youth and beauty <br>Eternal deck his cheeks; from his fair head <br>Perfumes distil their sweets; and cheerful Health,<br>His duteous handmaid, through the air improved,<br>With lavish hand diffuses scents ambrosial.<br>The spearman's arm, by thee, great god, directed,<br>Sends forth a certain wound. The laurell'd bard,<br>Inspired by thee, composes verse immortal.<br>Taught by thy art divine, the sage physician<br>Eludes the urn, and chains or exiles Death.<br>Thee, Nomian, we adore, for that from heaven<br>Descending, thou on fair Amphyrsus' banks<br>Didst guard Admetus' herds. Sithence the vow<br>Produced an ampler store of milk; the she-goat,<br>Not without pain, dragg'd her distended udder;<br>And ewes, that erst brought forth but single lambs,<br>Now dropp'd their twofold burdens. Bless'd the cattle<br>On which Apollo cast his favouring eye!<br>But, Phoebus, thou to man beneficient<br>Delight'st in building cities. Bright Diana,<br>Kind sister to thy infant deity,<br>New-wean'd, and just arising from the cradle,<br>Brought hunted wild goats' heads and branching antlers<br>Of stags, the fruit and honour of her toil;<br>These with discerning hand thou knew'st to range,<br>(Young as thou wast) and in the well-framed models,<br>With emblematic skill and mystic order,<br>Thou show'dst where towers or battlements should rise,<br>Where gates should open, or where walls should compass;<br>While from thy childish pastime, man received<br>The future strength and ornament of nations.<br>Battus, our great progentior, now touch'd<br>The Libyan strand, when the foreboding crow<br>Flew on the right before the people, marking<br>The country destined the auspicious seat<br>Of future kings, and favour of the god,<br>Whose oath is sure, and promise stands eternal.<br>Or Boedromian hear'st thou pleased, or Clarian<br>Phoebus, great king? for different are thy names,<br>As thy kind hand has founded many cities,<br>Or dealt benign thy various gifts to man.<br>Carnean let me call thee, for my country<br>Calls thee Carnean: the fair colony<br>Thrice by thy gracious guidance was transported <br>Ere settled in Cyrene; there we appointed <br>Thy annual feasts, kind god, and bless'd thy altars,<br>Smoking with hecatombs of slaughter'd bulls,<br>As Carnus, thy high priest and favour'd friend,<br>Had erst ordain'd; and with mysterious rites<br>Our great forefathers taught their sons to worship,<br>Iö! Carnean Phoebus! Iö Pean!<br>The yellow crocus there, and fair narcissus,<br>Reserve the honours of their winter-store<br>To deck thy temple, till returning spring<br>Diffuses Nature's various pride, and flowers<br>Innumerable, by the soft south-west <br>Open'd, and gather'd by religious hands,<br>Rebound their sweets from th' odoriferous pavement.<br>Perpetual fires shine hallow'd on thy altars,<br>When annual the Carnean feast is held:<br>The warlike Libyans clad in armour lead<br>The dance; with clanging swords and shields they beat<br>The dreadful measure: in the chorus join<br>Their women, brown, but beautiful: such rites<br>To thee well pleasing. Nor had yet thy votaries,<br>From Greece transplanted, touch'd Cyrene's banks, <br>And lands determined for their last abodes,<br>But wander'd through Azilis' horrid forest<br>Dispersed, when from Myrtusa's craggy brow,<br>Fond of the maid, auspicious to the city <br>Which must hereafter bear her favour'd name,<br>Thou gracious deign'd'st to let the fair one view<br>Her typic people; thou with pleasure taught'st her<br>To draw the bow, to slay the shaggy lion,<br>And stop the spreading ruin of the plains.<br>Happy the nymph who, honour'd by thy passion,<br>Was aided by thy power! the monstrous Python<br>Durst tempt thy wrath in vain; for dead he fell,<br>To thy great strength and golden arms unequal.<br>Iö! while thy unerring hand elanced<br>Another, and another dart, the people<br>Joyful repeated Iö! Iö Pean!<br>Elance the dart, Apollo; for the safety<br>And health of man, gracious, thy mother bore thee.<br>Envy, thy latest foe, suggested thus:<br>Like thee I am a power immortal, therefore<br>To thee dare speak. How canst thou favour partial<br>Those poets who write little? vast and great<br>Is what I love: the far extended ocean<br>To a small rivulet I prefer. Apollo<br>Spurn'd Envy with his foot, and thus the god:<br>Daemon, the headlong current of Euphrates,<br>Assyrian river, copious runs, but muddy,<br>And carries forward with his stupid force<br>Polluting dirt, his torrent still augmenting,<br>His wave still more defiled; meanwhile the nymphs<br>Melissan, sacred and recluse to Ceres,<br>Studious to have their offerings well received,<br>And fit for heavenly use, from little urns<br>Pour streams select and purity of waters.<br>Iö! Apollo, mighty king, let Envy,<br>Ill judging and verbose, from Lethe's lake<br>Draw tons unmeasurable, while thy favour<br>Administers to my ambitious thirst<br>The wholesome draught from Aganippe's spring<br>Genuine, and with soft murmurs gently rilling<br>Adown the mountains where thy daughters haunt.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Matthew+Prior">Matthew Prior</a><div class=q> <img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share"> <script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=457228" data-title="The Second Hymn Of Callimachus. To Apollo de Matthew Prior" data-description="Hah! how the laurel, great Apollo's tree, And all the cavern shakes! Far off, far off, The man that is unhallow'd: for the god, The god approaches. Hark! he knocks; the gates Feel the glad impulse, and the sever'd bars Submissive clink against th..."></div> </div> </div>
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