"And I will give thee as a good-will token,
The beautiful wand of wealth and happiness;
A perfect three-leaved rod of gold unbroken,
Whose magic will thy footsteps ever bless;
And whatsoever by Jove's voice is spoken
Of earthly or divine from its recess,
It, like a loving soul to thee will speak,
And more than this, do thou forbear to seek.
"For, dearest child, the divinations high Which thou requirest, 'tis unlawful ever
That thou, or any other deity
Should understand-and vain were the endeavour;
For they are hidden in Jove's mind, and I
In trust of them, have sworn that I would never
Betray the counsels of Jove's inmost will
God-the oath was terrible.
"Then, golden-wanded brother, ask me not
To speak the fates by Jupiter designed;
But be it mine to tell their various lot
To the unnumbered tribes of human kind.
Let good to these, and ill to those be wrought
As I dispense-but he who comes consigned.
By voice and wings of perfect augury
To my great shrine, shall find avail in me.
"Him will I not deceive, but will assist;
But he who comes relying on such birds
As chatter vainly, who would strain and twist
The purpose of the Gods with idle words,
And deems their knowledge light, he shall have mist
His road whilst I among my other hoards
His gifts deposit. Yet, O son of May,
I have another wondrous thing to say.
"There are three Fates, three virgin Sisters, who
Rejoicing in their wind-outspeeding wings,
Their heads with flour snowed over white and new,
Sit in a vale round which Parnassus flings
Its circling skirts-from these I have learned true
Vaticinations of remotest things.
My father cared not. Whilst they search out dooms,
They sit apart and feed on honeycombs.
"They, having eaten the fresh honey, grow
Drunk with divine enthusiasm, and utter
With earnest willingness the truth they know;
But if deprived of that sweet food, they mutter
All plausible delusions;-these to you
I give; if you inquire, they will not stutter;
Delight your own soul with them :—any man
You would instruct, may profit, if he can.
"Take these and the fierce oxen, Maia's child—
O'er many a horse and toil-enduring mule,
O'er jagged-jawed lions, and the wild
White-tusked boars, o'er all, by field or pool,
Of cattle which the mighty Mother mild
Nourishes in her bosom, thou shalt rule-
Thou dost alone the veil of death uplift-
Thou givest not-yet this is a great gift."
Thus king Apollo loved the child of May
In truth, and Jove covered them with love and joy. Hermes with Gods and men even from that day
Mingled, and wrought the latter much annoy, And little profit, going far astray
Through the dun night. Farewell, delightful Boy, Of Jove and Maia sprung,-never by me,
Nor thou, nor other songs shall unremembered be.
TRANSLATED FROM THE GREEK OF EURIPIDES.
CHORUS OF SATYRS.
ULYSSES.
THE CYCLOPS.
O, BACCHUS, what a world of toil, both now
And ere these limbs were overworn with
Have I endured for thee! First, when thou fled'st
The mountain-nymphs who nurst thee, driven afar
By the strange madness Juno sent upon thee;
Then in the battle of the sons of Earth,
When I stood foot by foot close to thy side,
No unpropitious fellow combatant,
And driving through his shield my winged spear,
Slew vast Enceladus. Consider now,
Is it a dream of which I speak to thee?
By Jove it is not, for you have the trophies!
And now I suffer more than all before.
For when I heard that Juno had devised
A tedious voyage for you, I put to sea
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