THE

DELUSIONS OF LOVE.

Έρως, έρως, ὁ κατ' ομμάτων

Στάζεις πόθον, εισαγων γλυκειαν

Ευχα χαριν, ές επιδράτευση

Μη μοι ποτε συν κακῳ φανείης,

Μηδ' αρρυθμος ελθοις.

Ερωτα δε, τον τυραννον ανδρων,
Τον τας Αφροδίτας

Φιλτατων θαλαμών

Κληδόχον, ο σεβίζομεν,

Περθοντα, και δια πάσης

Ιοντα συμφοράς

Θνατοις, όταν ελθη.

EURIP. HIPPOL. 530.

WHAT Certain fate, what mortal poison lurks Beneath the promised sweets and joys of love, Beneath soft blandishments what deadly snares Are hid, my verse unfolds. O, heavenly Maid, That from the blazing front of Father Jove Sprang'st forth a goddess armed! Thou in whose birth

The languid colliquation of soft love

Had never part; for whom no mother felt The pangs abhorred of childbirth! Thou, who sitt'st

Fast by thy father's side, when in the domes nd halls of heaven the congregated Gods Hold their immortal synod! O descend,

Celestial Wisdom, from thy golden throne,
And with one ray of thy perennial light,
Vouchsafe to visit my else idle lay!

Thee rarely, to direct his erring strain,
The bard invokes, but rather to the Queen
Of amorous tumults, and her pet'lant son,
Strings wantoning his lyre; or, on the bloom
Of roses thrown, frames to the softer lute
His plaintive ditties, mingled with the breath
Of burning sighs, tears, and unholy prayers,
And vows profane. But me to thy pure shrine
Thy votary, Goddess, lead; and with thy smile
Auspicious cheer the labours of my strain,
My service vowed and dedicate. From thee
The song begins; without thy gracious aid
In vain the fires of genius in the breast
Light up their flames, in vain the sacred rage
Of inspiration animates the strain,

And ineffectual are the powers of song.

Though little skilled to woo the virgin Choir, Whose haunts Libethra laves; though hard the

task

To leave the flowery path where asphodel
And roses spread sweet bordure, where the Loves
Fan the soft air with purple wing, and lead
Along the way with smiles; though hard the task