follows he. Now upon the rugged top Stands she,—on the loftiest height, Where the cliffs abruptly stop, And the path is lost to sight. There she views the steeps below,—    Close behind, her mortal foe. She, with silent, woeful gaze, Seeks the cruel boy to move; But, alas! in vain she prays—     To the string he fits the groove. When from out the clefts, behold! Steps the Mountain Genius old. With his hand the Deity Shields the beast that trembling sighs;    "Must thou, even up to me, Death and anguish send?" he cries,—    Earth has room for all to dwell,—    "Why pursue my loved gazelle?" 

           DITHYRAMB. 23 Believe me, together The bright gods come ever, Still as of old; Scarce see I Bacchus, the giver of joy, Than comes up fair Eros, the laugh-loving boy, And Phoebus, the stately, behold! They come near and nearer, The heavenly ones all—       The gods with their presence Fill earth as their hall! Say, how shall I welcome, Human and earthborn, Sons of the sky? Pour out to me—pour the full life that ye live! What to ye, O ye gods! can the mortal one give? The joys can dwell only In Jupiter's palace—       Brimmed bright with your nectar, Oh, reach me the chalice!        "Hebe, the chalice Fill full to the brim! Steep his eyes—steep his eyes in the bath of the dew, Let him dream, while the Styx is concealed from his view, That the life of the gods is for him!"        It murmurs, it sparkles, The fount of delight; The bosom grows tranquil—        The eye becomes bright. 

           THE FOUR AGES OF THE WORLD. The goblet is sparkling with purpled-tinged wine, Bright glistens the eye of each guest, When into the hall comes the Minstrel divine, To the good he now brings what is best; For when from Elysium is absent the lyre, No joy can the banquet of nectar inspire.     He is blessed by the gods, with an intellect clear, That mirrors the world as it glides; He has seen all that ever has taken place here, And all that the future still hides. He sat in the god's secret councils of old And heard the command for each thing to unfold. He opens in splendor, with gladness and mirth, That life which was hid from our eyes; Adorns as a temple the dwelling of earth, That the Muse has bestowed as his prize, No roof is so humble, no hut is so low, But he with divinities bids it o'erflow. And as the inventive descendant of Zeus, On the unadorned round of the shield, With knowledge divine could, reflected, produce Earth, 

 Prev. P 10/108 next