Een thou who mourn'st the Daisy's fate, Full on thy bloom, Till crushed beneath the furrow's weight, Shall be thy doom. GLOSSARY. Wee, little; maun, must; stoure, dust put in motion by the wind; neebor, neighbor; weet, wetness; cauld, cold; glinted, peeped brightly; bield, shelter; stane, stone; histie stibble, dry stubble; alane, alone; snawie, snowy. MOSCHUS'S1 "CUPID A RUNAWAY." AN IDYL. TRANSLATED BY J. M. CHAPMAN, M.A. HER Eros thus proclaimed the Cyprian Queen : 2 One bring him me, a kiss-and more beside. Full of sharp darts, with which e'en me he wounds. 1 Moschus was probably a pupil of Bion. Some scholars make them contemporary with Theocritus; others place them a century later, at about 156 B. C. Eros is the Greek for Cupid, god of love, son of Venus, called Cyprian queen' from Cyprus. See note 1, p. 18. a Pluto, King of Hades, Hell, the Shades, the classic spirit-world, of which Acheron was a river. This sweet ditty was written to commend an ivory distaff, which the poet, about to sail to Miletus, intended as a present for Theugenis, the wife of Nicias, the physician. Under the semblance of teaching the distaff what sort of a mistress it is about to have, he cleverly and gracefully praises a most honorable matron and her husband. DISTAFF! quick implement of busy thrift, [gift! Own thee with my consent; 't were shame and pity! 1 Minerva, goddess of science, wisdom, war, art, housewifery, etc., inventress of the distaff, and patroness of Athens. 2 Zeus and Dios were the Greek, Jovis and Jupiter the Latin names of the god of the air, ruler of gods and men.' 3 Syracuse, which once had 1,200,000 souls. It was founded by Archias, B. C. 732, about twenty years after Rome. Gay's "Rural Sports." ANGLING, FOWLING, AND HUNTING. THE TOWN AND COUNTRY CONTRASTED.- POLITICS; AMBITION RURAL PEACE. You, who the sweets of rural life have known, Despise th' ungrateful hurry of the town; In Windsor groves your easy hours employ, And, undisturbed, yourself and muse enjoy ; Thames listens to thy strains, and silent flows, And no rude wind through rustling osier blows; While all his wondering nymphs around thee throng, To hear the sirens warble in thy song. But I, who ne'er was blest by fortune's hand, Nor brightened ploughshares in paternal land, Long in the noisy town have been immured, Respired its smoke, and all its cares endured; Where news and politics divide mankind, And schemes of state involve the uneasy mind; Faction embroils the world; and every tongue Is moved by flattery, or with scandal hung: Friendship, for sylvan shades, the palace flies, Where all must yield to interest's dearer ties; Each rival Machiavel with envy burns, And honesty forsakes them all by turns; While calumny upon each party's thrown, Which both promote, and both alike disown. Fatigued, at last, a calm retreat I chose, And soothed my harassed mind with sweet repose, Where fields and shades, and the refreshing clime, Inspire the sylvan song, and prompt my rhyme. THE SUBJECT. RURAL SPORTS. My muse shall rove through flowery meads and plains, And deck with Rural Sports her native strains, THE COUNTRY.HEALTH.-MORNING WALK. "Tis not that Rural Sports alone invite, 1 This poem was originally inscribed to Pope, in 1713. HAYMAKING. When the fresh Spring in all her state is crowned, And high, luxuriant grass o'erspreads the ground, The laborer with a bending scythe is seen, Shaving the surface of the waving green; Of all her native pride disrobes the land, And meads lay waste before his sweeping hand; While with the mounting sun the meadow glows, The fading herbage round he loosely throws: But, if some sign portend a lasting shower, The experienced swain foresees the coming hour; His sunburnt hands the scattering fork forsake, And ruddy damsels ply the saving rake; In rising hills the fragrant harvest grows, And spreads along the field in equal rows. THE NOONTIDE RETREAT. Now when the height of heaven bright Phoebus gains, And his steep rays cleave wide the thirsty plains; VIRGIL'S GEORGICS DESCRIBED; GRAIN; VINES; BULLS; BEES. Here I peruse the Mantuan's Georgic strains, I wander o'er the various rural toil, And know the nature of each different soil: The careful insect midst his works I view, EVENING IN THE COUNTRY.-SILENCE. SUNSET. Or when the ploughman leaves the task of day, And, trudging homeward, whistles on the way; When the big-uddered cows with patience stand, Waiting the strokings of the damsel's hand; No warbling cheers the woods; the feathered choir, To court kind slumbers, to the sprays retire ; When no rude gale disturbs the sleeping trees, Nor aspen-leaves confess the gentlest breeze; Engaged in thought to Neptune's bounds I stray, To take my farewell of the parting day. Far in the deep the sun his glory hides, A streak of gold the sea and sky divides: The purple clouds their amber linings show, And edged with flame rolls every wave below : Here pensive I behold the fading light, And o'er the distant billow lose my sight. NIGHT. STARS. THE DEITY. Now night in silent state begins to rise, Who reins the winds, gives the vast ocean bounds, SPRING. FISHING. As in successive course the seasons roll, So circling pleasures recreate the soul. When genial Spring a living warmth bestows, And o'er the year her verdant mantle throws, No swelling inundation hides the grounds. But crystal currents glide within their bounds ; The finny brood their wonted haunts forsake, Float in the sun, and skim along the lake ; With frequent leap they range the shallow streams, Their silver coats reflect the dazzling beams. Now let the fisherman his toils prepare, And arm himself with every watery snare; His hooks, his lines, peruse with careful eye, Increase his tackle, and his rod retie. ANGLING DESCRIBED. When floating clouds their spongy fleeces drain, He sits him down and ties the treacherous hook; He greedily sucks in the twining bait, WORM-BAIT. You must not every worm promiscuous use, Judgment will tell the proper bait to choose: The worm that draws along immoderate size The trout abhors, and the rank morsel flies; And if too small, the naked fraud 's in sight, And fear forbids, while hunger does invite. Those baits will best reward the fisher's pains, Whose polished tails a shining yellow stains; Cleanse them from filth; to give a tempting gloss, Cherish the sullied reptile race with moss; Amid the verdant bed they twine, they toil, And from their bodies wipe their native soil. FLY-FISHING. But when the sun displays his gracious beams, You now a more delusive art must try, HOW TO MAKE THE ARTIFICIAL FLY. To frame the little animal, provide All the gay hues that wait on female pride; Let nature guide thee; sometimes golden wire The shining bellies of the fly require : The peacock's plumes thy tackle must not fail, Nor the dear purchase of the sable's tail. Each gaudy bird some slender tribute brings, And lends the growing insect proper wings: Silks of all colors must their aid impart, And every fur promote the fisher's art. So the gay lady, with expensive care, SUCCESSIVE KINDS OF FISHING-FLIES; HOW TO CHOOSE THEM. Mark well the various seasons of the year, He shakes the boughs that on the margin grow, HOW TO USE THE ARTIFICIAL FLY. Let not thy wary step advance too near, While all thy hope hangs on a single hair; The new-formed insect on the water moves, The speckled trout the curious snare approves ; Upon the curling surface let it glide, With natural motion from thy hand supplied; Against the stream now gently let it play, Now in the rapid eddy roll away. The scaly shoals float by, and, seized with fear, Behold their fellows tost in thinner air; But soon they leap and catch the swimming bait, Plunge on the hook, and share an equal fate. SALMON-FISHing described; PLAY OF THE SALMON. When a brisk gale against the current blows, And all the watery plain in wrinkles flows, Then let the fisherman his art repeat, Where bubbling eddies favor the deceit. If an enormous salmon chance to spy The wanton errors of the floating fly, He lifts his silver gills above the flood, And greedily sucks in the unfaithful food; Then downward plunges with the fraudful prey, And bears with joy the little spoil away : Soon in smart pain he feels the dire mistake, Lashes the wave, and beats the foaming lake; With sudden rage he now aloft appears, And in his eye convulsive anguish bears; And now again, impatient of the wound, He rolls and wreathes his shining body round; Then headlong shoots beneath the dashing tide, The trembling fins the boiling wave divide. Now hope exalts the fisher's beating heart, Now he turns pale and fears his dubious art; He views the trembling fish with longing eyes CAUTIONS; THE OTTER; AVOID CRUELTY IN FISHING. Would you preserve a numerous finny race, Let your fierce dogs the ravenous otter chase ; — The amphibious monster ranges all the shores, Darts through the waves, and every haunt explores;Or let the gin his roving steps betray, And save from hostile jaws the scaly prey. I never wander where the bordering reeds O'erlook the muddy stream, whose tangling weeds Perplex the fisher; I nor choose to bear The thievish nightly net, nor barbéd spear; Nor drain I ponds the golden carp to take, Nor troll for pikes, dispeoplers of the lake; Around the steel no tortured worm shall twine, No blood of living insect stain my line. Let me, less cruel, cast the feathered hook, With pliant rod, athwart the pebbled brook; Silent along the mazy margin stray, And with the fur-wrought fly delude the prey. CANTO II. SHORE FISHING. Now, sporting muse, draw in the flowing reins, Leave the clear streams a while for sunny plains. Should you the various arms and toils rehearse, And all the fishermen adorn thy verse; Should you the wide-encircling net display, And in its spacious arch enclose the sea; Then haul the plunging load upon the land, And with the sole and turbot hide the sand; It would extend the growing theme too long, And tire the reader with the watery song. LET THE SPORTSMAN SPARE THE STANDING CROP; REAPING. Let the keen hunter from the chase refrain, Nor render all the ploughman's labor vain, When Ceres pours out plenty from her horn, And clothes the fields with golden ears of corn. Now, now, ye reapers, to your task repair; Haste! save the product of the bounteous year: To the wide-gathering hook long furrows yield, And rising sheaves extend through all the field. COURSING THE HARE. Yet, if for Sylvan Sports thy bosom glow, Let thy fleet greyhound urge his flying foe. With what delight the rapid course I view ! FOWLING; THE PARTRIDGE; ITS HABITS SNARING. Nor less the spaniel, skilful to betray, Rewards the fowler with the feathered prey. Soon as the laboring horse, with swelling veins, Hath safely housed the farmer's doubtful gains, To sweet repast the unwary partridge flies, With joy amid the scattered harvest lies; Wandering in plenty, danger he forgets, Nor dreads the slavery of entangling nets. The subtle dog scours with sagacious nose Along the field, and snuffs each breeze that blows; Against the wind he takes his prudent way, While the strong gale directs him to his prey. Now the warm scent assures the covey near, He treads with caution, and he points with fear; GUNNING. Nor must the sporting verse the gun forbear, But what's the fowler's be the muses' care. See how the well-taught pointer leads the way: The scent grows warm; he stops; he springs the prey; The fluttering coveys from the stubble rise, And on swift wing divide the sounding skies; The scattering lead pursues the certain sight, And death in thunder overtakes their flight. Cool breathes the morning air, and winter's hand Spreads wide her hoary mantle o'er the land; Now to the copse thy lesser spaniel take, HAWKING AND SKYLARKING. The towering hawk let future poets sing, Who terror bears upon his soaring wing: Let them on high the frighted hern survey, And lofty numbers paint their airy fray. Nor shall the mounting lark the muse detain, That greets the morning with his early strain; When, 'midst his song, the twinkling glass betrays, While from each angle flash the glancing rays, And in the sun the transient colors blaze, Pride lures the little warbler from the skies: The light-enamored bird deluded dies. THE CHASE. But still the chase, a pleasant task, remains; The hound must open in these rural strains. Soon as Aurora drives away the night, And edges eastern clouds with rosy light, The healthy huntsman, with the cheerful horn, Summons the dogs, and greets the dappled morn ; The jocund thunder wakes the enlivened hounds; They rouse from sleep, and answer sounds for sounds; Wide through the furzy field their route they take, Their bleeding bosoms force the thorny brake ; The flying game their smoking nostrils trace, No bounding hedge obstructs their eager pace; The distant mountains echo from afar, And hanging woods resound the flying war. The tuneful noise the sprightly courser hears, Paws the green turf, and pricks his trembling ears; The slackened rein now gives him all his speed, Back flies the rapid ground beneath the steed; Hills, dales, and forests, far behind remain, [train. While the warm scent draws on the deep-mouthed Where shall the trembling hare a shelter find? Hark! death advances in each gust of wind! New stratagems and doubling wiles she tries, Now circling turns, and now at large she flies; Till, spent at last, she pants, and heaves for breath, Then lays her down, and waits devouring death. STAG AND FOX HUNTING. But stay, adventurous muse! hast thou the force To wind the twisted horn, to guide the horse? To keep thy seat unmoved, hast thou the skill, O'er the high gate, and down the headlong hill? Canst thou the stag's laborious chase direct, Or the strong fox through all his arts detect? The theme demands a more experienced lay: Ye mighty hunters! spare this weak essay. |