SPECIMENS OF TRANSLATION FROM MEDEA. Σκαιος δε λέγων, κεδέν τι σοφές TE ELL me, ye bards, whose 'skill sublime The trembling transports of the lyre, Accords sweet Music's soothing tone? When flush'd with joy, the rosy throng SPEECH OF THE CHORUS IN THE SAME TRAGEDY, To dissuade Medea from her purpose of putting her children to death, and flying for protection to Athens. O HAGGARD queen! to Athens dost thou guide Where Peace and Mercy dwell for evermore? The land where Truth, pure, precious, and sublime, Where joyous youth, to Music's mellow strain, Waves amber radiance through the fields of air! The tuneful Nine (so sacred legends tell) First wak'd their Heavenly lyre these scenes among; Still in your greenwood bowers they love to dwell; Still in your vales they swell the choral song! But there the tuneful, chaste, Pierian fair, The guardian nymphs of green Parnassus now Sprung from Harmonia, while her graceful hair Wav'd in bright auburn o'er her polish'd brow! ANTISTROPHE I. Where silent vales, and glades of green array, The murm'ring wreaths of cool Cephisus lave, There, as the Muse hath sung, at noon of day, The Queen of Beauty bow'd to taste the wave; And bless'd the stream, and breath'd across the land The soft sweet gale that fans yon summer bowers; And there the sister Loves, a smiling band, Crown'd with the fragrant wreaths of rosy flowers! "And go," she cries, "in yonder valleys rove, "Intwine, with myrtle chains, your soft control, STROPHE II. The land where Heaven's own hallow'd waters play, In thine own children's gore? oh, ere they bleed, The mother strikes-the guiltless babes shall fall! Think what remorse thy maddening thoughts shall sting, When dying pangs their gentle bosoms tear! Where shalt thou sink, when ling'ring echoes ring The screams of horror in thy tortur'd ear? No let thy bosom melt to Pity's cry,- ANTISTROPHE II. Say, how shalt thou that barb'rous soul assume, C Hast thou a heart to work thy children's doors, When o'er each babe you look a last adieu, Charm thee to pensive thought-and bid thee weep? When the young suppliants clasp their parent dear, Heave the deep sob, and pour the artless prayer,Aye thou shalt melt ;-and many a heart-shed tear Gush o'er the harden'd features of despair! Nature shall throb in every tender string, CHORUS. Hallow'd Earth 1 with indignation Mark, oh, mark the murd'rous deed! Radiant eye of wide creation, Watch the damn'd parricide! Yet ere Colchia's rugged daughter Shall the hand, with murder gory, In the vales of placid gladness Let no rueful maniac range; Ghase afar the fiend of Madness, Wrest the dagger from Revenge! Say, hast thou, with kind protection, Hast thou, on the troubled ocean, Brav'd the tempest loud and strong, Where the waves, in wild commotion, Roar Cyanean rocks among? Didst thou roam the paths of danger, Shall not Heaven, with indignation, Watch thee o'er the barb'rous deed? Shalt thou cleanse, with expiation, Monstrous, murd'rous parricide? |