Medulla Poetarum Romanorum - Vol. I. (Invitation - Justice) Poem by Henry Baker

Invitation.

Come hither, beauteous Boy! behold; the Nymphs
To Thee fresh Lillies in full Baskets bring:
For Thee the lovely Naïs crops the Heads
Of Poppies, and the Violet's pale Flow'rs,
With the Narcissus and sweet Anise join'd:
Then mingling Cinamon, and other Herbs
Of fragrant Scent, with the soft Hyacinth
The Saffron Bloom of Marigolds adorns.--

Dear Galatea! sweeter far to me
Than Hybla's Thyme to the laborious Bee:
Whiter than Swans that swim the Chrystal Streams,
And fairer than the shining Ivy seems:
Come, when the Bulls shall to their Stalls repair:
Ah! come, if Corydon's at all thy Care.--

Hither, O Galatea! hither come,
My charming Fair: Here blooms the purple Spring:
Here various Flow'rs, the winding Rivers round,
The Earth pours forth: Here the pale Poplar hangs
O'er our cool Grot: and intermingled Vines
With pliant Tendrils weave a gentle Shade.--

Descended of an antient Line,
That long the Tuscan Scepter sway'd,
Make haste to meet the gen'rous Wine,
Whose piercing is for thee delay'd:
The rosy Wreath is ready made,
And artful Hands prepare
The fragrant Oyl that shall perfume thy Hair.
From all thy cloying Plenty fly,
Thy Palace leave, that rises to the Sky:
Nor longer value Rome's fantastick Joys,
It's Smoke, it's Riches, and it's Noise.
Sometimes 'tis pleasing to the Rich to try
A short Vicissitude, a Fit of Poverty:
A savory Dish, a homely Treat,
Where all is plain, where all is neat,
Without the stately spacious Room,
Or Carpets from the Tyrian Loom,
Clear up the cloudy Foreheads of the Great.—


Joy Publick.

Loud Shouts of Joy, and glad Applauses rise,
Ring round the Shores, and eccho to the Skies.--

The hallowed Fires on ev'ry Altar shine,
And grateful Off'rings load each sacred Shrine:
Proud Victims fall, their Horns with Ribbons bound,
And tincture with their Blood the holy Ground.
Athens ne'er knew so general a Joy:
Feasting and Mirth does every Soul employ:
Promiscuously the Peers and People dine,
Promiscuously their thankful Voices join,
In Songs of Wit, sublim'd by sprightly Wine.--

--Transported Troy
Forgot her Woes, and gave a loose to Joy:
Threw wide her Gates, and pour'd forth all her Train,
To view th' abandon'd Camp, and empty Plain.--

With loud rejoycing Shouts, and gladsome Sports,
And festival Applause the Streets resound:
In all the Temples Quires of Matrons croud:
Altars in all erected: On the Ground
Before those Altars slaughter'd Oxen fall.--


Iris.
See Dying.

Her shining Robes, rich with a thousand Dies,
Iris puts on: then from the Heav'ns flies;
And flying forms an Arch, a Segment of the Skies.--

--Down to the Trojan Fleet
Saturnian Juno Iris sends from Heav'n,
And breaths the Winds to speed her airy Course:
The Virgin, seen by none, with wingy Speed
Shoots thro' a thousand Colours of her Bow.

--Uprais'd on even Wings,
The Goddess mounts into the Air, and cuts
Her Bow of spacious Arch beneath the Clouds.--

Mean while great Jove sends dewy Iris down,
To call the Gods to Council round his Throne.
Wrap'd in her colour'd Robes she swiftly flies,
On gentle Zephyrs, thro' the yielding Skies.--


Isis.

A Glorious Train, and Isis at their Head,
Or stood, or seem'd to stand, before the Bed.
Her moony Horns were on her Forehead plac'd,
And golden Sheaves her shining Temples grac'd,
Round which a regal Diadem on high
Blaz'd forth: The Dog Anubis too was by,
Sacred Bubastis, glorious to the Sight,
And the black Apis mark'd with Spots of White,
And He, the speechless God, whose Finger laid
A--cross his Lips to silence does perswade:
The sounding Sistra in the Train were brought,
Osiris who can ne'er enough be sought,
And the strange Snake with deadly Venom fraught.--

Great Isis! who delight'st to haunt the Fields,
Where fruitful Nile it's golden Harvest yields;
Where with sev'n Mouths into the Sea it falls,
And tak'st thy Walks around Canope's Walls;
Who Memphis visit'st, and the Pharian Tow'rs,
Assist my dear One with thy friendly Pow'rs!
By all thy sacred Rites I Thee conjure,
A Life so precious with thy Help secure!
By Anubis's venerable Face!
So may'st Thou with Osiris still find Grace!
So may thy Altars heap'd with Off'rings shine,
And round those Offrings deadly Serpents twine!
May horned Apis so thy Pomp attend,
And be to Thee, as Thou'rt to her a Friend!
Look down, Oh Isis! on the teeming Fair,
And make at once her Life, and mine, thy Care:
Save both by helping one; the Aid you give
To her saves me, for 'tis by her I live.
Nor undeserving is she, for she pays
Her Vows to Thee on all thy solemn Days;
And still attends thy Feasts to celebrate,
Whene'er the Galli round thy laurel'd Altars wait.--


Italy.

But neither Media's wealthy Groves, and Soil,
Nor far--fam'd Ganges, nor rich Hermus' Stream,
Turbid with Gold, can match Italia's Praise:
Nor Bactra, India, nor Panchaia fat,
All o'er, with Frankincense producing Glebe.
--Here swelling Grain
Abounds, and Bacchus' Massic Juice, and Oils,
And Herds of shining Neat. The Warrior Steed
Prances, with lofty Port, into the Field:
White Flocks, and stately Bulls, of Victims chief,
Oft plung'd, Clitumnus, in thy sacred Stream,
To Jove's high Fane the Roman Triumphs lead.
Here blooms perpetual Spring: and Summer shines
In Months not Her's: Here twice the Cattle teem,
The Trees twice yield their Fruit: But far from hence
Is the fell Tyger, and the savage Breed
Of Lions: Nor does Aconite deceive
The wretched Simplers. No huge scaly Snake
Snatches his Orb immense along the Ground:
Nor into Spires so vast himself convolves.
Add that Variety of Cities fam'd:
And Labour of Artificers: on Tops
Of craggy Rocks so many Towns uprear'd:
And Rivers gliding under ancient Walls.

The same blest Region Veins of Silver shows:
Rivers of Brass: and flows in copious Gold.
Hail happy Clime! Saturnian Realm! of Fruits,
And Men, great Parent!--


Jupiter.
See God. Providence.

With Jove, ye Muses! let the Song begin:
All Things are full of Jove: He for the World
Provides, indulgent.--

--Imperial Jove
Surveying, from the Summit of the Sky,
The navigable Seas, and low laid Earth,
And Shores, and Nations wide, on Heav'n's high Tow'r
Stood, and on Lybia's Kingdoms fix'd his Eyes.
--To Him,
Sad Venus, her bright Eyes all drown'd in Tears,
Suppliant applies.--O Thou! whose Sov'reign Pow'r
Controuls th' Affairs of Men, and Gods, with Rule
Eternal, and with Thunder awes!--

Smiling on Her, the Sire of Men and Gods,
With that smooth Look which clears the stormy Sky,
His Daughter gently kiss'd.--

Olympus now it's everlasting Doors
Widely unfolds: the King of Gods and Men
Summons a Council in the starry Hall:
From whence, enthron'd on high, all Lands he views.--
Th' Etherial Synod meets.--

Th' Almighty Father then, supreme of Kings,
His aweful Speech begins, and, while he speaks,
Heav'n's lofty Court keeps Silence, and the Earth
Trembles below, th' Etherial Arch above:
Hush'd are the Winds, th' unruffled Seas subside.--

-- Let Each
Abide th' Event and Fortune of his Deeds:
Jove is the same, one common King to All.
--So spake the God:
And by his Stygian Brother's pitchy Banks,
And whirling Torrent, ratify'd the Doom:
And all Olympus trembled at his Nod.
Here ended the Debate: Imperial Jove
Uprises from his Throne of Gold: the Gods
Attend him to his Palace, round inclos'd.--

When on their marble Seats the Gods were plac'd,
And the high Throne with Jove himself was grac'd:
Upon his Iv'ry Scepter first he leant,
Then shook his Head, that shook the Firmament:
Air, Earth, and Seas, obey'd th' Almighty Nod,
And with a gen'ral Fear confess'd the God.--

While mighty Kings o'er trembling Nations sway,
Those mighty Kings themselves must Jove obey;
Whose pow'rful Arm the Gyants did confound,
Whose Nod turns all the Universe around.--


Jupiter Ammon.

Now to the sacred Temple they draw near,
Whose only Altars Lybian Lands revere:
There, but unlike the Jove by Rome ador'd,
A Form uncouth, stands Heav'n's Almighty Lord.
No regal Ensigns grace his potent Hand,
Nor shakes he there the Light'nings flaming Brand:
But, ruder to behold, a horned Ram
Appears the God, and Ammon is his Name.
There tho' he reigns, unrival'd, and alone,
O'er the rich Neighbours of the Torrid Zone:
Tho' Ethiopia is by him possess'd,
India the rich, and Araby the blest,
Yet no proud Domes are rais'd, no Gems are seen,
To blaze upon his Shrines with costly Sheen:
But plain, and poor, and unprophan'd he stood,
Such as, to whom our great Fore--fathers bow'd:
A God of pious Times, and Days of old,
That keeps his Temple safe from Roman Gold.--


Justice.
See Laws.

--In Hell, advising All,
The wretched Phlegyas testifies aloud
With solemn Voice, and preaches thro' the Shades:
``Be warn'd, learn Justice, nor contemn the Gods.--

Thou, Justice, wer't the first that brought Mankind
From Caves in Desarts: and the Use of Food,
Wholesome, and good, didst teach the savage Race.
For thy sake only We the Laws revere:
To humanize the Mind, and thence expel
All brutal Passions, 'tis to Thee we owe.
Whose upright Soul Thee deeply has imbib'd,
Fearless thro' Flames shall rush: thro' Northern Storms
Shall sail undaunted: and a Host of Foes
Shall overthrow, unarmed, and alone.
He, ev'n in Æthiopia's scorching Plains,
Shall give the Comfort of refreshing Show'rs:
And him, the balmy Zephyrs of the Spring,
Thro' Scythia's icy Regions shall attend.--

Who passes Judgment, e'er both Sides are heard,
Tho' right his Sentence prove, is yet unjust.--

The more You live at Ease, the more you're blest
With Pow'r, and Wealth, Preferment, and a Name,
So much the stricter must be your Regard
For Honesty and Justice, if you wish
To have the World believe you Men of Honour.--


Justice (Divine.)
See Providence.

Oft have I been perplex'd with anxious Doubts:
Uncertain if about this World the Gods
Employ their Care, or if, without a Guide,
All mortal Things at random take their Course.

When I had trac'd the Order of the Whole,
The Ocean's Bounds, the Winding of the Year,
The fixt Vicissitude of Night and Day,
Thence I concluded all Things were dispos'd
By the wise Councils of a Deity:
At whose Command the Stars their Rounds fulfill,
And various Fruits at diff'rent Seasons grow:
By whom the changeful Moon with borrow'd Beams
Repleat, shines forth, and Phoebus with his own:
Whose Hand stretch'd out the Shores to bound the Main;
And on it's Axis, ballanc'd, hung the Ball.

But, when I view'd th' Affairs of Humankind,
All dark, perplext, and unaccountable:
The Wicked flourishing, elate, and proud:
The Righteous suff'ring, wretched, and distrest;
My Faith again was stagger'd, and inclin'd,
Altho' unwillingly to his Belief,
Who, that the Parts of Matter hurry on
At random, thro' the mighty Void, maintain'd,
In no determin'd, steady, constant Course:
And shift their Forms, by Chance not Wisdom rul'd.
Who, or suppos'd the Gods of Reason void,
Or Beings indolent at best, and weak,
Of Us unknowing, and of our Affairs.

But now, this Tumult of the Mind is calm'd:
Rufinus' Punishment acquits the Gods:
And, that the Wicked to th' utmost Pitch
Of Grandeur soar, no longer I complain.
They're rais'd on high to make their Fall the greater.--

--If Humankind you scorn,
And mortal Arms: Expect, at least, the Gods
Will have a due Regard to Right, and Wrong.--

When, snatch'd by cruel Fate, the Good and Just,
Perish, and sink untimely to the Dust.
(May I the bold Confession be forgiven!)
I almost think there are no Gods in Heaven.—