Medulla Poetarum Romanorum - Vol. I. (Apollo - Atheist) Poem by Henry Baker

Apollo.

When bright Apollo leaves his Winter--Seat
Lycia, and Xanthus' Stream, and in it's Turn
Visits his native Delos, to restore
The Festivals: About his Altars croud,
With mingled Noise, the Cretians, Dryopes,
And painted Agathyrsi: He on Top
Of Cynthus walks, and crowns his flowing Hair
With a soft Wreath of Greens, forms it with Art,
And winds it up in Gold: His sounding Shafts
Hang at his Shoulders.--

Me Claros, Delphos, Tenedos obey,
These Hands the Patareian Scepter sway:
The King of Gods begat me: what shall be,
Or is, or ever was, in Fate, I see.
I first to Musick tun'd the sounding Strings,
And from my Bow the Shaft unerring Springs.
Med'cine is mine: what Herbs and Simples grow
In Fields, and Forrests, all their Pow'rs I know:
And am the great Physician call'd below.--

Supreme of Gods, Apollo, who thy Hill
Sacred Soracte, Guardian, dost defend:
Whom we the first adore: for whom we feed
The Fire in piny Piles, and thro' that Fire,
Safe in our Piety, and fearless, walk,
Thy Worshippers, and tread on burning Coals:
Grant me, Almighty Father, by my Arms,
This Blot, this foul Dishonour to remove.--

The God his own Parnassean Lawrel crown'd,
And in a Wreath his golden Tresses bound,
Graceful his purple Mantle swept the Ground.
High on the Left his Iv'ry Lute he rais'd,
The Lute, emboss'd with glitt'ring Jewels, blaz'd.
In his right Hand he nicely held the Quill,
And ev'n his Posture spoke a Master's Skill.--


Archery.

Forthwith Æneas to the Sports invites
All who with feather'd Shafts would try their Skill,
And names the Prizes. With his ample Hand
He from Serestus' Ship a Mast erects,
And on it by a Rope suspended ties
A swift wing'd Dove: at which they all should aim
Their Arrows.--

--Then all with manly Strength
Bend their tough Yew: each with his utmost Force:
All from their Quivers draw their Shafts:--And first
Shot from the twanging Nerve Hippocoon's flies
Along the Sky, divides the liquid Air,
And on the Body of the Mast adverse
Stands fix'd: the Mast, and frighted Bird at once
Tremble: And all the Cirque with Shouts resounds.
Next eager Mnestheus with his bended Bow
Stands ready, and his Eyes and Arrow aim'd
Directs to Heav'n: yet could not reach the Dove
Herself, unfortunate: but cut the Knots,
And hempen Ligaments, in which she hung
Ty'd by the Feet upon the lofty Mast:
She flys into the Winds, and dusky Clouds.
Eurytion then impatient, and long since
Holding his ready Bow, and fitted Steel,
Invokes his Brother: and, in open Air
Seeing the Dove now shake her sounding Wings,
Transfixes her amidst the Clouds: The Bird
Falls dead, and leaves her Life among the Stars:
And, tumbling, in her Body brings him back
His sticking Arrow.-- Arms. Armour.

Arms. Armour.
See Battle. Hero. Sling. Warrior.

With Nails and Teeth, at first, the Warriors fought,
Or Stones, or Staves: the Weapons Nature taught:
Fire too they us'd, as soon as Fire was found;
And lastly, Steel and Brass were made to wound.--

Wond'ring, he turns and poises in his Hands
The dreadful crested Helm, which vomits Flames:
The fatal Sword: the Corslet stiff with Brass,
Sanguine, immense: as when an Azure Cloud
Glows, gilded by the Sun, and burns from far:
The polish'd Cuisses next, of Gold refin'd,
And ductile Silver: and the Spear: and last
Th' unutterable Texture of the Shield.--

Himself his Corslet laces to his Breast,
Squalid with Gold and Brass: then fits his Sword,
His Helmet, and his double Crimson Plume.
Next his long Spear, Auruncean Actor's Spoil,
Which in the middle of the spacious Court,
Against a lofty Pillar leaning stood,
He grasps; and shakes it quiv'ring in the Air.--

--The greatest Part throw Balls
Of livid Lead: Part brandish in their Hands
Two Darts: a yellow Cap of Wolf--skin made
Covers their Heads: Their left Foot bare: Their Right
In the raw Leather of a Shoe inclos'd.--

Piles in their Hands, and goring Pikes they bear,
And with round pointed Sabine, Jav'lins fight.--

--Round missile Darts they throw:
But these by Custom to a pliant Thong
Are ty'd: a Buckler on their left they wear,
And crooked Faulchions weild in closer Fight.--

Accustom'd, by Teutonic Mode, to hurl
Huge pondrous Jav'lins: Rind of Cork their Casques,
And brazen Swords they wear, and brazen Shields.--


Army.
See Battle.

Num'rous as Surges roll'd on Lybia's Sea,
When rough Orion sets in wintry Waves:
Or Ears of Corn scorch'd by the Summer's Sun,
On Hermus' Plain, or Lycia's yellow Fields.
Their Targets ring: And with their trampling Feet
The Ground beneath them trembles as they walk.--

The Horsemen march: The Gates are open'd wide:
Æneas at their Head, Achates by his Side.
Next These the Trojan Leaders rode along:
Last, follows in the Rear th' Arcadian Throng.
Young Pallas shone conspicuous o'er the rest:
Gilded his Arms, embroider'd was his Vest.
The trembling Wives the Walls and Turrets croud,
And follow, with their Eyes, the dusty Cloud:
Which Winds disperse by Fits: and shew from far
The Blaze of Arms, and Shields, and shining War.
The Troops, drawn up in beautiful Array,
Along the Lawns, pursue the nearest Way.
Repeated Peals of Shouts are heard around;
The Horse, in close Array,--
Shake with their sounding Hoofs the quaggy Ground.--

Now all the Army march'd upon the Plain,
Rich in proud Steeds, in broider'd Vests, and Gold.
Messapus leads the Van, the Rear the Sons
Of Tyrrheus: In the Center Turnus moves,
Chief, by the Head entire above them all,
And tow'rs in Arms.--Slow, without Noise they march:
As, by sev'n Rivers swell'd, in Silence flows
Ganges profound: or with his fruitful Stream
Nilus, when, ebbing from the Fields, he draws
His Train, and in his Channel glides confin'd.--

Together crouding from th' abandon'd Camp
Antheus, and Mnestheus rush, and all the Tide
Of Troops condens'd: Thick Dust obscures the Sky:
And the Ground trembling groans beneath their Feet.--


Arrow.

She said: and from her golden Quiver took
A feather'd Shaft, and bent her vengeful Bow:
Bent it, till both the crooked Horns were joyn'd,
And met each other: her Left Hand at once
Touching the Point, her Right and the tough Nerve
Strain'd to her Breast. Forthwith the sounding Air,
And hissing of the Weapon Aruns heard,
And in his Body felt the sticking Steel.--

--With the Nerve
Of Horse's Hair full opposite he stood,
Levell'd his Shaft, and diverse drew his Arms:

--At once
Sounded the fatal Yew: With dreadful Hiss
The Arrow flies, and fixes in the Head
Of Remulus, and pierces with it's Steel
His hollow Temples.--


Cupid's Arrows.

Two diff'rent Shafts he from his Quiver draws;
One to repel Desire, and one to cause.
One Shaft is pointed with refulgent Gold:
To bribe the Love, and make the Lover bold:
One blunt, and tipt with Lead; whose base Allay
Provokes Disdain, and drives Desire away.--

His Mother's Lips while Cupid fondly press'd
Heedless, he with an Arrow raz'd her Breast.
The Goddess felt it, and with Fury stung,
The wanton Mischief from her Bosom flung:
And thought at first the Danger slight, but found
The Dart too faithful, and too deep the Wound.


Atlas.

Near Ocean's Limits and the setting Sun,
On Æthiopia's Bounds there is a Place,
Where mighty Atlas on his Shoulders turns
The rolling Axis studded o'er with Stars.--

Atlas whose piny Head with low'ring Clouds
Is wrap'd, and beaten with the Winds, and Rain:
Snow hides his Shoulders: from his hoary Chin
Streams roll, and stiffned hangs his icy Beard.—


Atheist.
See Divine Vengeance.

--All hear
With Admiration, and admiring fear
The Pow'rs of Heav'n; except Ixion's Son,
Who laugh'd at all the Gods, believ'd in none.
Credit the Tale who will, he fierce replies,
These Legends are no more than pious Lies:
You stretch too much the Pow'rs of Heav'n, to say,
That they or give Us Forms, or take away.
The rest, of better Minds, their Sense declar'd
Against this Doctrine, and with Horror heard.--

Then Lelex rose, an old experienc'd Man,
And thus, with sober Gravity began:
Great are the Gods, unbounded is their Sway,
And what they Will both Heav'n and Earth obey.--

The impious Wretch despis'd the Powers divine,
Nor od'rous Incense burnt at any Shrine:
But with his Ax did Ceres' Grove invade,
And, as 'tis said, hew'd down the venerable Shade.
An ancient Oak there in the Center stood,
The Covert's Glory, and itself a Wood.
Garlands embrac'd it's Trunk, and from the Boughs
Hung Tablets, Monuments of prosp'rous Vows.
It's Height as much the other Trees exceeds,
As they o'ertop the Grass and humble Weeds.

But nought it's holy Horrors could avail:
He bad his Slaves the sacred Trunk assail:
And whilst they, lingring, his Commands delay'd,
He snatch'd an Ax, and thus blaspheming said;
Was this no Oak, nor Ceres' fav'rite Care,
But Ceres' self, this Arm, unaw'd, shou'd dare
It's leafy Honours in the Dust to spread,
And level with the Ground it's tow'ring Head.
He spoke: and as he aim'd a slanting Stroke,
Sighs heav'd, and Tremblings shook the frighted Oak;
It's Leaves look'd sickly, pale it's Acorns grew,
And it's long Branches sweat a chilly Dew.
Then when his impious Hands a Wound bestow'd,
Blood from the mangled Bark in Currents flow'd.

The Wonder All amaz'd: but One more bold,
The Fact disswading, strove his Ax to hold.
With Fury him the fierce Thessalian ey'd:
Receive thy Piety's Reward, he cry'd;
And as with Rage a mighty Stroke he sped,
He turn'd it from the Tree, and lop'd his Head.

Then obstinate in Ill, with num'rous Blows
And straining Ropes, the Oak he overthrows.--

That Souls immortal are, or after Death
Have any Hell to fear, now, even Boys,
Unless in Leading--Strings, do not believe:
But Thou these Truths revere.—