TRANSLATIONS. HYMNS OF HOMER. HYMN TO MERCURY. SING, Muse, the son of Maia and of Jove, The Herald-child, king of Arcadia And all its pastoral hills, whom in sweet love Having been interwoven, modest May Bore Heaven's dread Supreme-an antique grove Shadowed the cavern where the lovers lay In the deep night, unseen by Gods or Men, And white-armed Juno slumbered sweetly then. II. Now, when the joy of Jove had its fulfilling, A shepherd of thin dreams, a cow-stealing, III. The babe was born at the first peep of day; From her immortal limbs he leaped full soon, IV. Out of the lofty cavern wandering He found a tortoise, and cried out-" A treasure !" (For Mercury first made the tortoise sing) The beast before the portal at his leisure The flowery herbage was depasturing, Moving his feet in a deliberate measure Over the turf. Jove's profitable son Eyeing him laughed, and laughing thus begun :— "A useful god-send are you to me now, King of the dance, companion of the feast, Lovely in all your nature! Welcome, you Excellent plaything! Where, sweet mountain beast, Got you that speckled shell? Thus much I know, You must come home with me and be my guest. You will give joy to me, and I will do All that is in my power to honour you. VI. "Better to be at home than out of door; So come with me, and though it has been said I know you will sing sweetly when you're dead." VII. Then scooping with a chisel of grey steel, He bored the life and soul out of the beast Not swifter a swift thought of woe or weal Darts through the tumult of a human breast Out of the dizzy eyes-than Maia's son VIII. And through the tortoise's hard strong skin IX. When he had wrought the lovely instrument, X. He sung how Jove and May of the bright sandal His mother's cave and servant maids he planned all But singing he conceived another plan. XI. Seized with a sudden fancy for fresh meat, The hollow lyre, and from the cavern sweet Of thievish craft, such as a swindler might XII. Lo! the great Sun under the ocean's bed has Driven steeds and chariot-the child meanwhile strode O'er the Pierian mountains clothed in shadows, Where the immortal oxen of the God Are pastured in the flowering unmown meadows, The archer Argicide, elate and proud, XIII. He drove them wandering o'er the sandy way, So that the tracks, which seemed before, were aft: And for each foot he wrought a kind of raft Of tamarisk, and tamarisk-like sprigs, And bound them in a lump with withy twigs. XIV. And on his feet he tied these sandals light, The trail of whose wide leaves might not betray His track; and then, a self-sufficing wight, Like a man hastening on some distant way, He from Pieria's mountain bent his flight; But an old man perceived the infant pass Down green Onchestus, heaped like beds with grass. XV. The old man stood dressing his sunny vine: "Halloo old fellow with the crooked shoulder! You grub those stumps? Before they will bear wine Methinks even you must grow a little older: Attend, I pray, to this advice of mine, As you would 'scape what might appal a bolderSeeing, see not-and hearing, hear not-andIf you have understanding-understand." XVI. So saying, Hermes roused the oxen vast; O'er shadowy mountain and resounding dell, XVII. Now to Alpheus he had driven all The broad foreheaded oxen of the Sun; They came unwearied to the lofty stall And to the water troughs which ever run Through the fresh fields-and when with rushgrass Had pastured been, the Great God made them move XVILL. A mighty pile of wood the God then heaped, And the divine child saw delightedly- XIX. And fine dry logs and roots innumerous He gathered in a delve upon the ground And kindled them-and instantaneous The strength of the fierce flame was breathed around And whilst the might of glorious Vulcan thus Wrapt the great pile with glare and roaring sound, Hermes dragged forth two heifers, lowing loud, Close to the fire-such might was in the God. XX. And on the earth upon their backs he threw Toasting their flesh and ribs, and all the gore XXI. We mortals let an ox grow old, and then Drew the fat spoils to the more open station Of a flat smooth space, and portioned them; and when He had by lot assigned to each a ration Of the twelve Gods, his mind became aware Of all the joys which in religion are. XXII. For the sweet savour of the roasted meat Nathelesse He checked his haughty will and did not eat, Though what it cost him words can scarce express, And every wish to put such morsels sweet Down his most sacred throat, he did repress; But soon within the lofty portalled stall He placed the fat and flesh and bones and all. XXIII. And every trace of the fresh butchery And cooking, the God soon made disappear, As if it all had vanished through the sky; He burned the hoofs and horns and head and hair, The insatiate fire devoured them hungrily; And when he saw that everything was clear, He quenched the coals and trampled the black dust, And in the stream his bloody sandals tossed. XXIV. All night he worked in the serene moonshine- On his long wandering, neither man nor god Nor house-dog had barked at him on his road; Now he obliquely through the key-hole passed, Like a thin mist, or an autumnal blast. XXV. Right through the temple of the spacious cave XXVI. There he lay innocent as a new-born child, |