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(From Pharsalia)
Translated by Nicholas Rowe
WHEN sated with joy which slaughters yield, | |
| Retiring Cæsar left Emathia’s field; | |
| His other cares laid by, he sought alone | |
| To trace the footsteps of his flying son. | |
| Led by the guidance of reporting fame, | 5 |
| First to the Thracian Hellespont he came. | |
| Here young Leander perished in the flood, | |
| And here the tower of mournful Hero stood: | |
| Here with a narrow stream the flowing tide | |
| Europe from wealthy Asia does divide. | 10 |
| From hence the curious victor passing o’er, | |
| Admiring, sought the famed Sigæan shore. | |
| There might he tombs of Grecian chiefs behold, | |
| Renowned in sacred verse by bards of old. | |
| There the long ruins of the walls appeared, | 15 |
| Once by great Neptune and Apollo reared: | |
| There stood old Troy, a venerable name, | |
| Forever consecrate to deathless fame. | |
| Now blasted mossy trunks with branches sear, | |
| Brambles and weeds, a loathsome forest rear; | 20 |
| Where once in palaces of regal state | |
| Old Priam and the Trojan princes sate. | |
| Where temples once, on lofty columns borne, | |
| Majestic did the wealthy town adorn, | |
| All rude, all waste and desolate is laid, | 25 |
| And even the ruined ruins are decayed. | |
| Here Cæsar did each storied place survey, | |
| Here saw the rock where, Neptune to obey, | |
| Hesione was bound the monster’s prey. | |
| Here, in the covert of a secret grove, | 30 |
| The blest Anchises clasped the Queen of Love: | |
| Here fair Œnone played, here stood the cave | |
| Where Paris once the fatal judgment gave; | |
| Here lovely Ganymede to heaven was borne; | |
| Each rock and every tree recording tales adorn. | 35 |
| Here all that does of Xanthus’ stream remain | |
| Creeps a small brook along the dusty plain. | |
| Whilst careless and securely on they pass, | |
| The Phrygian guide forbids to press the grass: | |
| This place, he said, forever sacred keep, | 40 |
| For here the sacred bones of Hector sleep. | |
| Then warns him to observe where, rudely cast, | |
| Disjointed stones lay broken and defaced: | |
| Here his last fate, he cries, did Priam prove; | |
| Here, on this altar of Hercæan Jove. | 45 |
| O Poesy divine! O sacred song! | |
| To thee bright fame and length of days belong; | |
| Thou, Goddess! thou eternity canst give, | |
| And bid secure the mortal hero live. | |
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