ODE XVII.—ON A SILVER BOWL.
Mulciber, thou skilful wright,
Carve for me this silver bright;
But I do not wish to see
Polish'd arms or panoply.
What are arms or wars to me?
Carve me out a mighty bowl,
That my ever-thirsty soul
In the generous juice may steep.
Make it very—very deep.
On the margin do not trace
Uncouth shape or horrid face"
Grave not there the northern wain[1]
Stern Orion, god of rain,[2]
Boötes, or the Pleiades;
What concern have I with these?
Trail thereon the tender vine,
There let purple clusters shine;
Picture too the god of wine.
There let fair-hair'd Cupid be,
And Bathyllus, fair as he:
Make them beautiful and bold,
Burnish'd high like polish'd gold:
Let them in one labour join,
Treading out the gushing wine.
- ↑ The author here alludes to the emblazoning of the shield of Achilles as described in the eighteenth book of the Iliad:—
"There shone the image of the master mind;
There earth—there heaven—there ocean he design'd;
Th' unwearied sun, the moon completely round;
The starry lights that heaven's high convex crown'd;
The Pleiads, Hyads, with the northern team;
And great Orion's more refulgent beam,
To which around the axle of the sky
The Bear revolving points his golden eye,
Sill shines exalted on th' ethereal plain,
Nor bathes his blazing forehead in the main."
Pope's Homer's Iliad. - ↑ The Greek term signifies "hateful," and is used by the poet, because the constellation Orion was considered the forerunner of tempests, and therefore dreaded by mariners.