IDYL XVII.

PTOLEMY.

ARGUMENT.

In this encomiastic address to Ptolemy Philadelphus, the poet begins with the praise of his father the first Ptolemy, and of his mother Berenice, translated by Venus to her temple, and made her Assessor; whence he passes to the happiness and excellence of Philadelphus himself, who was born with the most auspicious signs of being a favourite of Zeus. He speaks of his riches, amassed by means of an undisturbed peace, his munificence, and patriotic watchfulness to secure the wellbeing of his people, and of his piety to his parents and to the gods. He includes in his praise Arsinoe, the king's

consort.

This idyl has been attributed by Warton and others to Calli

machus, for no other reason than that it does not savour of the style of Theocritus. "Don Juan" and the "Hebrew Melodies," which are generally attributed to the same Lord Byron, by parity of reasoning, could not possibly have been written by the same person.

IDYL XVII.

PTOLEMY.

Muses! begin and end the song with Zeus,
When of immortals we the chief extol:
Of men the name of Ptolemy produce
First, last, and midst-for he is chief of all.
For their exploits the seed heroical
Of demigods life-giving minstrels found:

I, skilled to sing, will Ptolemy install

Theme of my song-and glowing hymns redound E'en to their praise, who dwell th' Olympian heights around.

In Ida's thick of wood, perplex'd with choice,
Which to begin with, the wood-cutter flings
His glance around: to what shall I give voice
First out of all the many blessed things,

With which the gods have graced the best of kings? How great the son of Lagus from his birth! Born for what deeds! what great imaginings His mind conceived beyond the sons of earth! Up to the gods by Zeus exalted for his worth!

In Jove's own house his golden couch is spread,
And by him sits his friend in royal pride,
Great Alexander, the portentous dread

Of Persians glittering with the turban pied:
And Hercules, the vast Centauricide,

Sits opposite on adamantine throne;

There with the gods he banquets gratified,

In his sons' sons rejoicing as his own,

Made free of age by Zeus, and as immortals known.

For from heroic Hercules the twain

Descended therefore when he goes content

:

From the gods' banquet to his wife again,

Sated with nectar of a fragrant scent,
To one his quiver and his bow unbent

Ever he hands, and to that other blest
His iron-shotted club, with knobs besprent;

And so they marshal him unto his rest

In his ambrosial home, white-ankled Hebe's nest.