I should have ever heard the name of one But I appeal to the Saturnian's throne." LIII Thus Phoebus and the vagrant Mercury Talked without coming to an explanation, With adverse purpose. he Before Jove's throne, the indestructible Immortals rushed in mighty multitude; And whilst their seats in order due they fill, The lofty Thunderer in a careless mood To Phoebus said: "Whence drive you this sweet prey, This herald-baby, born but yesterday?— LVI "A most important subject, trifler, this father, nay, Under Cyllene's mountains far away— Sought not revenge, but only information, And Hermes tried with lies and roguery Out of the field my cattle yester-even, By the low shore on which the loud sea laughed, Rubbing, and cogitating some new sleight. No eagle could have seen him as he lay He right down to the river-ford had Hid in his cavern from the peering day. driven; And mere astonishment would make you daft To see the double kind of footsteps LXI "I taxed him with the fact, when he averred Most solemnly that he did neither see strange He has impressed wherever he did range. Nor even had in any manner heard LVIII Of my lost cows, whatever things cows be; "The cattle's track on the black dust, Nor could he tell, though offered a full well "Or he would hurl me down the dark abyss. I know that every Apollonian limb Is clothed with speed and might and manliness, As a green bank with flowers-but unlike him I was born yesterday, and you may guess He well knew this when he indulged the whim Of bullying a poor little new-born thing He might as well have bound the oxen wild; And how to the Immortals every one The withy bands, though starkly in- But chief Mnemosyne did Maia's son terknit, Fell at the feet of the immortal child, Loosened by some device of his quick wit. Clothe in the light of his loud melo dies; And as each God was born or had begun He in their order due and fit degrees Phoebus perceived himself again be- Sung of his birth and being-and did And stared-while Hermes sought Apollo to unutterable love. some hole or pit, Looking askance and winking fast as thought, Where he might hide himself and not be caught. LXXI LXXIV These words were winged with his swift delight: "You heifer-stealing schemer, well do you Sudden he changed his plan, and with Deserve that fifty oxen should requite strange skill Subdued the strong Latonian, by the might Of winning music, to his mightier will; His left hand held the lyre, and in his right The plectrum struck the chords-unconquerable Up from beneath his hand in circling flight The gathering music rose-and sweet as Love The penetrating notes did live and move LXXII Within the heart of great Apollohe Listened with all his soul, and laughed for pleasure. Close to his side stood harping fearlessly The unabashed boy; and to the measure Of the sweet lyre, there followed loud and free His joyous voice; for he unlocked the treasure Of his deep song, illustrating the birth Of the bright Gods, and the dark desert Earth: Such minstrelsies as I have heard even now. Comrade of feasts, little contriving wight, One of your secrets I would gladly know, Whether the glorious power you now show forth Was folded up within you at your birth, LXXV 'Or whether mortal taught or God inspired The power of unpremeditated song? Many divinest sounds have I admired, The Olympian Gods and mortal men among; But such a strain of wondrous, strange, untired, And soul-awakening music, sweet and strong, Yet did I never hear except from thee, Offspring of May, impostor Mercury! LXXVI "What Muse, what skill, what unimagined use, What exercise of subtlest art, has given Thy songs such power?-for those who hear may choose From three, the choicest of the gifts I would be gentle with thee; thou canst of Heaven, Delight, and love, and sleep,- sweet sleep, whose dews reach All things in thy wise spirit, and thy sill Are sweeter than the balmy tears of Is highest in heaven among the sons of And I, who speak this praise, am that Who loves thee in the fulness of his Apollo Whom the Olympian Muses ever follow : LXXVII "And their delight is dance, and the blithe noise Of song and overflowing poesy; And sweet, even as desire, the liquid voice love. LXXX "The Counsellor Supreme has given to Divinest gifts, out of the amplitude Of pipes, that fills the clear air thrill-Of his far voice; by thee the mystery ingly; Of all oracular fates,-and the dread "Then bear it boldly to the revel loud, Love-wakening dance, or feast of solemn state, To whom thus Mercury with prudent A joy by night or day-for those en speech : Wisely hast thou inquirèd of my I envy thee no thing I know to teach will dowed With art and wisdom who interro gate It teaches, babbling in delightful mood elate, |
