TRANSLATIONS, &c.
165
A cave there was, which Nature's hand alone 25
Had arch'd, with greens of various kinds o'ergrown;
With timbrels all the vaulted roofs were grac'd,
And earthen gods on either fide were plac'd:
Silenus and the Muses' virgin-train
Stood here, with Pan, the poet of the plain; 30
Elsewhere the doves of Cytherea's team
Were seen to sip the sweet Castalian stream.
Nine lovely nymphs a several task pursu'd,
For ivy one was sent to search the wood;
This to soft numbers join'd harmonious airs, 35
And fragrant rosy wreaths a third prepares.
Me thus the bright Calliope address'd;
(Her name the brightness of her form confess'd)
"The silver swans of Venus wait to bear
"Thee safe in pomp along the liquid air. 40
"Pleas'd with thy peaceful province, straight recall
"Thy rash design to sing the wounded Gaul.
"Harsh sounds the trumpet in the Muses' grove,
"But sweet the lute; the lute is fit for love.
"No more rehearse the Danube's purple stream, 45
"Let love for ever be the tender theme,
"And in thy verse reveal the moving art
"To melt an haughty nymph's relentless heart."
The goddess ceasing, to confirm me more,
My face with hallow'd drops she sprinkled o'er, 50
Fetch'd from the fountain by whose flow'ry side
Soft Waller sung of Sacharissa's pride. 52
Had arch'd, with greens of various kinds o'ergrown;
With timbrels all the vaulted roofs were grac'd,
And earthen gods on either fide were plac'd:
Silenus and the Muses' virgin-train
Stood here, with Pan, the poet of the plain; 30
Elsewhere the doves of Cytherea's team
Were seen to sip the sweet Castalian stream.
Nine lovely nymphs a several task pursu'd,
For ivy one was sent to search the wood;
This to soft numbers join'd harmonious airs, 35
And fragrant rosy wreaths a third prepares.
Me thus the bright Calliope address'd;
(Her name the brightness of her form confess'd)
"The silver swans of Venus wait to bear
"Thee safe in pomp along the liquid air. 40
"Pleas'd with thy peaceful province, straight recall
"Thy rash design to sing the wounded Gaul.
"Harsh sounds the trumpet in the Muses' grove,
"But sweet the lute; the lute is fit for love.
"No more rehearse the Danube's purple stream, 45
"Let love for ever be the tender theme,
"And in thy verse reveal the moving art
"To melt an haughty nymph's relentless heart."
The goddess ceasing, to confirm me more,
My face with hallow'd drops she sprinkled o'er, 50
Fetch'd from the fountain by whose flow'ry side
Soft Waller sung of Sacharissa's pride. 52
