338
��LATIN POEMS
��Quid nisi viua, rosasque, raceniiferumque
Lyaeum,
Cantavit brevibus Teia Musa modis ? Pindaricosque inflat numeros Teumesius
Euan, Et redolet sumptum pagina quseque me-
rum; l)um gravis everso currus crepat axe supi-
nus,
Et volat Eleo pulvere fuscus eques. Quadriraoque inadens Lyricen Romanus
laccho Dulce canit Glyceran, flavicomamque
Chloen. Jam quoque lauta tibi generoso mensa pa-
ratti
Mentis alit vires, ingeniumqne fovet. 30 Massica fcecundam despumant pocula ve-
nam,
Fundis et ex ipso condita metra cado. Addimus his artes, fusunique per intima
Phoebum
Corda; favent uni Bacchus, Apollo, Ceres. Scilicet baud mirum tarn dulcia carmina
per te,
Numine composito, tres peperisse Deos. Nunc quoque Thressa tibi cselato barbitos
auro
Insonat arguta molliter icta manu; Auditurque chelys suspensa tapetia circura, Virgineos tremula quae regat arte pe- des. 40
Ilia tuas saltern teneant spectacula Musas, Et revocent quantum crapula pellit iners. Crede mihi, dum psallit ebur, comitataque
plectrum
Implet odoratos festa chorea tholos, Percipies taciturn per pectora serpere
Phcebum,
Qnale repentinus permeat ossa calor; Perque puellares oculos digitumque sonan-
tem
Irruet in totos lapsa Thalia sinus. Namque Elegia levis multoruni cura deo-
rum est, Et vocat ad numeros quemlibet ilia
si 1 1 is; 50
Liber adest elegis, Eratoque, Ceresque,
Venusque,
Et cum purpureS matre tenellus Amor. Talibus inde licent convivia larga poetis,
Ssepius et veteri commaduisse mero. At qni bella refert, et adulto sub Jove
cselum, Heroasque pios; semideosque duces,
��bad, because there were no feasts there and no vineyards. What but roses and the grape-laden vine did Anacreon sing in those delicate staves of his ? Teumesian Bacchus inspired Pindar's strain ; each page of his breathes ardor from the drained cup, as he sings of the crash of the heavy chariot overturned, and the rider flying by, dark with the dust of the Elean race-course. The Roman lyrist drank first of the four- year-old vintage, ere he sang so sweetly of Glycera and blond-haired Chloe. The sinews of thy genius, too, draw strength from the generously laden table. Your Massic cups foam with a rich vein of song ; from the very jar you pour a learned strain. Add to such incitements those of the arts, and of Apollo penetrant within the inmost chambers of your heart, and it is little wonder that such delightful verses come from yon, since three gods in accord, Bac- chus, Apollo, and Ceres, brought them to birth.
For you, too, the lute, Orpheus's instru- ment, gold-embossed, sounds now, gently touched by a master hand. In tapestried rooms is heard the lyre, swaying with subtle rhythm the feet of young girls in the dance. Let such gracious sights as this hold your Muse at gaze, and they will call back all the skill and ardor that dull repletion drove away. Trust me, when the ivory keys of the virginal leap under the player's fingers, and the crowd of dancers fills the perfumed chambers, you will feel the spirit of song stealing into your heart, penetrating your very bones with a sudden glow. From the eyes and fingers of the girlish player, Thalia will slip into your breast and possess it all.
For light elegy is the care of many gods, and calls to its numbers whom it will ; Erato, Ceres, Venus, all gladly come, and tender stripling Love with his rosy mother. But the poet who will tell of wars, and of Heaven under adult Jove, and of pious he- roes, and leaders half-divine, singing now
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