William Cowper- Collected Poetical Works

by William Cowper

  Slides through the gentle deep, the quiet stream

  Admires the unwonted burden that it bears,

  Well polish’d arms, and vessels painted gay.

  Beneath the shade of various trees, between

  The umbrageous branches of the spreading groves,

  They cut their liquid way, nor day nor night

  They slack their course, unwinding as they go

  The long meanders of the peaceful tide.

  The glowing sun was in meridian height,

  When from afar they saw the humble walls,

  And the few scatter’d cottages, which now

  The Roman power has equall’d with the clouds;

  But such was then Evander’s scant domain.

  They steer to shore, and hasten to the town.

  It chanced the Arcadian monarch on that day,

  Before the walls, beneath a shady grove,

  Was celebrating high, in solemn feast,

  Alcides and his tutelary gods.

  Pallas, his son, was there, and there the chief

  Of all his youth; with these, a worthy tribe,

  His poor but venerable senate, burnt

  Sweet incense, and their altars smoked with blood.

  Soon as they saw the towering masts approach,

  Sliding between the trees, while the crew rest

  Upon their silent oars, amazed they rose,

  Not without fear, and all forsook the feast.

  But Pallas undismay’d, his javelin seized,

  Rush’d to the bank, and from a rising ground

  Forbade them to disturb the sacred rites.

  ‘Ye stranger youth! What prompts you to explore

  This untried way? and whither do ye steer?

  Whence, and who are you? Bring ye peace or war?’

  Æneas from his lofty deck holds forth

  The peaceful olive branch, and thus replies:

  ‘Trojans and enemies to the Latian state,

  Whom they with unprovoked hostilities

  Have driven away, thou seest. We seek Evander

  Say this — and say beside, the Trojan chiefs

  Are come, and seek his friendship and his aid.’

  Pallas with wonder heard that awful name,

  And ‘Whosoe’er thou art,’ he cried, ‘come forth:

  Bear thine own tidings to my father’s ear,

  And be a welcome guest beneath our roof.’

  He said, and, press’d the stranger to his breast:

  Then led him from the river to the grove,

  Where, courteous, thus Æneas greets the king:

  ‘Best of the Grecian race, to whom I bow

  (So wills my fortune) suppliant, and stretch forth

  In sign of amity this peaceful branch,

  I fear’d thee not, although I knew thee well

  A Grecian leader, born in Arcady,

  And kinsman of the Atridæ. Me my virtue,

  That means no wrong to thee — the Oracles,

  Our kindred families allied of old,

  And I thy renown diffused through every land,

  Have all conspired to bind in friendship to thee,

  And send me not unwilling to thy shores.

  Dardanas, author of the Trojan state,

  (So say the Greeks,) was fair Electra’s son;

  Electra boasted Atlas for her sire,

  Whose shoulders high sustain the ethereal orbs.

  Your sire is Mercury, whom Maia bore,

  Sweet Maia, on Cylene’s hoary top.

  Her, if we credit aught tradition old,

  Atlas of yore, the self-same Atlas, claim’d

  His daughter. Thus united close in blood,

  Thy race and ours one common sire confess.

  With these credentials fraught, I would not send

  Ambassadors with artful phrase to sound

  And win thee by degrees — but came myself —

  Me, therefore, me thou seest; my life the stake:

  ’Tis I, Æneas, who implore thine aid.

  Should Daunia, that now aims the blow at thee

  Prevail to conquer us, nought then, they think,

  Will hinder, but Hesperia must be theirs,

  All theirs, from upper to the nether sea.

  Take then our friendship, and return us thine.

  We too have courage, we have noble minds,

  And youth well tried, and exercised arms.’

  Thus spoke Æneas. — He with fix’d regard

  Survey’d him speaking, features, form, and mien

  Then briefly thus— ‘Thou noblest of thy name,

  How gladly do I take thee to my heart,

  How gladly thus confess thee for a friend!

  In thee I trace Anchises; his thy speech,

  Thy voice, thy countenance. For I well remember

  Many a day since, when Priam journey’d forth

  To Salamis, to see the land where dwelt

  Hesione, his sister, he push’d on

  E’en to Arcadia’s frozen bounds. ’Twas then

  The bloom of youth was glowing on my cheek;

  Much I admired the Trojan chiefs, and much

  Their king, the son of great Laomedon,

  But most Anchises, towering o’er them all.

  A youthful longing seized me to accost

  The hero, and embrace him; I drew near,

  And gladly led him to the walls of Pheneus.

  Departing, he distinguish’d me with gifts,

  A costly quiver stored with Lycian darts,

  A robe inwove with hold, with gold imboss’d

  Two bridles, those which Pallas uses now.

  The friendly league thou hast solicited

  I give thee, therefore, and to-morrow all

  My chosen youth shall wait on your return.

  Meanwhile, since thus in friendship ye are come,

  Rejoice with us, and join to celebrate

  These annual rites, which may not be delay’d,

  And be at once familiar at our board.’

  He said, and bade replace the feast removed;

  Himself upon a grassy bank disposed

  The crew; but for Æneas order’d forth

  A couch spread with a lion’s tawny shag,

  And bade him share the honors of his throne.

  The appointed youth with glad alacrity

  Assist the laboring priest to load the board

  With roasted entrails of the slaughter’d beeves

  Well kneaded bread and mantling bowls. We pleased,

  Æneas and the Trojan youth regale

  On the huge length of a well pastured chine.

  Hunger appeased, and tables all despatch’d

  Thus spake Evander: ‘Superstition here,

  In this old solemn feasting, has no part.

  No, Trojan friend, from utmost danger saved,

  In gratitude this worship we renew.

  Behold that rock which nods above the vale,

  Thos bulks of broken stone dispersed around,

  How desolate the shatter’d cave appears,

  And what a ruin spreads the incumber’d plain

  Within this pile, but far within, was once

  The den of Cacus; dire his hateful form

  That shunn’d the day, half monster and half man.

  Blood newly shed stream’d ever on the ground

  Smoking, and many a visage pale and wan

  Nail’d at his gate, hung hideous to the sight.

  Vulcan begot the brute: vast was his size,

  And from his throat he belch’d his father’s fires.

  But the day came that brought us what we wish’d,

  The assistance and the presence of a God.

  Flush’d with his victory, and the spoils he won

  From triple-form’d Geryon lately slain,

  The great avenger, Hercules, appear’d.

  Hither he drove his stately bulls, and pour’d

  His herds along the vale. B
ut the sly thief

  Cacus, that nothing might escape his hand

  Of villainy or fraud, drove from the stalls

  Four of the lordliest of his bulls, and four

  The fairest of his heifers: by the tail

  He dragg’d them to his den, that, there conceal’d,

  No footsteps might betray the dark abode.

  And now, his herd with provender sufficed,

  Alcides would be gone: they as they went

  Still bellowing loud, made the deep echoing woods

  And distant hills resound: when, hark! one ox,

  Imprison’d close within the vast recess,

  Lows in return, and frustrates all his hope.

  Then fury seized Alcides, and his breast

  With indignation heaved; grasping his club

  Of knotted oak, swift to the mountain top

  He ran, he flew. Then first was Cacus seen

  To tremble, and his eyes bespoke his fears.

  Swift as an eastern blast, he sought his den,

  And dread, increasing, wing’d him as he went.

  Drawn up in iron slings above the gate,

  A rock was hung enormous. Such his haste,

  He burst the chains, and dropp’d it at the door,

  Then grapplied it with iron work within

  Of bolts and bars by Vulcan’s art contrived.

  Scarce was he fast, when, panting for revenge,

  Came Hercules; he gnash’d his teeth with rage,

  And quick as lightning glanced his eyes around

  In quest of entrance. Fiery rod and stung

  With indignation, thrice he wheel’d his course

  About the mountain; thrice, but thrice in vain,

  He strove to force the quarry at the gate,

  And thrice sat down, o’erwearied in the vale.

  There stood a pointed rock abrupt and rude,

  That high o’erlook’d the rest, close at the back

  Of the fell monster’s den, when birds obscene

  Of ominous note resorted, choughs and daws.

  This, as it lean’d obliquely to the left,

  Threatening with stream below, he from the right

  Push’d with his utmost strength, and to and fro

  He shook the mass, loosening its lowest base;

  Then shoved it from its seat; down fell the pile;

  Sky thunder’d at the fall; the banks give way,

  The affrighted stream flows upward to his source.

  Behold the kennel of the brute exposed,

  The gloomy vault laid open. So, if chance

  Earth yawning to the centre should disclose

  The mansions, the pale mansions of the dead,

  Loathed by the gods, such would the gulf appear,

  And the ghosts tremble at the sight of day.

  The monster braying with unusual din

  Within his hollow lair, and sore amazed

  To see such sudden inroads of the light,

  Alcides press’d him close with what at hand

  Lay readiest, stumps of trees, and fragments huge

  Of millstone size. He, (for escape was none),

  Wondrous to tell! forth from his gorge discharged

  A smoky cloud that darken’d all the den;

  Wreath after wreath he vomited again,

  The smothering vapor mix’d with fiery sparks

  No sight could penetrate the veil obscure.

  The hero, more provoked, endured not this,

  But with a headlong leap he rush’d to where

  The thickest cloud enveloped his abode.

  There grasp’d he Cacus, spite of all his fires,

  Till, crush’d within his arms, the monster show

  His bloodless throat, now dry with panting hard,

  And his press’d eyeballs start. Soon he tears down

  The barricade of rock, the dark abyss

  Lies open; and the imprison’d bulls, the theft

  He had with oaths dednied, are brought to light;

  By the heels the miscreant carcass is dragg’d forth.

  His face, his eyes, all terrible, his breast

  Beset with bristles, and his sooty jaws

  Are view’d with wonder never to be cloy’d.

  Hence the celebrity thou seest, and hence

  This festal day Potitius first enjoin’d

  Posterity: these solemn rites he first,

  With those who bear the great Pinarian name,

  To Hercules devoted; in the grove

  This altar built, deem’d sacred in the highest

  By us, and sacred ever to be deem’d.

  Come, then, my friends, and bind your youthful brows

  In praise of such deliverance, and hold forth

  The brimming cup; your deities and ours

  Are now the same, then drink, and freely too.’

  So saying, he twisted round his reverend locks

  A variegated poplar wreath, and fill’d

  His right hand with a consecrated bowl.

  At once all pour libations on the board,

  All offer prayer. And now, the radiant sphere

  Of day descending, eventide drew near.

  When first Potitius with the priests advanced,

  Begirt with skins, and torches in their hands.

  High piled with meats of savory taste, they ranged

  The chargers, and renew’d the grateful feast.

  Then came the Salii, crown’d with poplar too,

  Circling the blazing altars; here the youth

  Advanced, a choir harmonious, there were heard

  The reverend seers responsive; praise they sung,

  Much praise in honor of Alcides’ deeds;

  How first with infant grip two serpents huge

  He strangled, sent from Juno; next they sung

  How Troja and Œchalia he destroy’d,

  Fair cities both, and many a toilsome task

  Beneath Eurystheus (so his stepdame will’d)

  Achieved victorious. Thou, the cloud-born pair,

  Hylæus fierce and Pholus, monstrous twins,

  Thou slew’st the minotaur, the plague of Crete,

  And the vast lion of the Nemean rock,

  Thee hell, and Cerberus, hell’s porter, fear’d,

  Stretch’d in his den upon his half-gnaw’d bones.

  Thee no abhorred form, not e’en the vast

  Typhœus could appal, though clad in arms.

  Hail, true-born son of Jove, among the gods

  At length enroll’d, nor least illustrious thou,

  Haste thee propitious, and approve our songs

  Thus hymn’d the chorus; above all they sing

  The cave of Cacus, and the flames he breathed

  The whole grove echoes, and the hills rebound.

  The rites perform’d, all hasten to the town.

  The king, bending with age, held as he went

  Æneas and his Pallas by the hand,

  With much variety of pleasing talk

  Shortening the way. Æneas, with a smile,

  Looks round him, charm’d with the delightful scene,

  And many a question asks, and much he learns

  Of heroes far renown’d in ancient times.

  Then spake Evander. These extensive groves,

  Were once inhabited by fauns and nymphs,

  Produced beneath their shades, and a rude race

  Of men, the progeny uncouth of elms

  And knotted oaks. They no refinement knew

  Of laws or manners civilized, to yoke

  The steer, with forecast provident to store

  The hoarded grain, or manage what they had,

  But browsed like beasts upon the leafy boughs,

  Or fed voracious on their hunted prey.

  An exile from Olympus, and expell’d

  His native realm by thunder-bearing Jove,

  First Saturn came. He from the mountains drew

  This herd of men untracta
ble and fierce,

  And gave them laws: and call’d his hiding-place,

  This growth of forests, Latium. Such the peace

  His land possess’d, the golden age was then,

  So famed in story; till by slow degrees

  Far other times, and of far different hue,

  Succeeded, thirst of gold and thirst of blood.

  Then came Ausonian bands, and armed hosts

  From Sicily, and Latium often changed

  Her master and her name. At length arose

  Kings, of whom Tybris of gigantic form

  Was chief: and we Italians since have call’d

  The river by his name: thus Albula

  (So was the country call’d in ancient days)

  Was quite forgot. Me from my native land

  An exile, through the dangerous ocean driven,

  Resistless fortune and relentless fate

  Placed where thou seest me. Phoebus, and

  The nymph Carmentis, with maternal care

  Attendant on my wanderings, fix’d me here.

  [Ten lines omitted.]

  He said, and show’d him the Tarpeian rock,

  And the rude spot where now the Capitol

  Stands all magnificent and bright with gold,

  Then overgrown with thorns. And yet e’en then

  The swains beheld that sacred scene with awe;

  The grove, the rock, inspired religious fear.

  This grove, he said, that crowns the lofty top

  Of this fair hill, some deity, we know,

  Inhabits, but what deity we doubt.

  The Arcadians speak of Jupiter himself

  That they have often seen him, shaking here

  His gloomy Ægis, while the thunder storms

  Came rolling all around him. Turn thine eyes,

  Behold that ruin: those dismantled walls,

  Where once two towns, Janiculum —— ,

  By Janus this, and that by Saturn built,

  Saturnia. Such discourse brought them beneath

  The roof of poor Evander; thence they saw,

  Where now the proud and stately forum stands,

  The grazing herds wide scatter’d o’er the field.

  Soon as he enter’d — Hercules, he said,

  Victorious Hercules, on this threshold trod,

  These walls contain’d him, humble as they are.

  Dare to despise magnificence, my friend,

  Prove thy divine descent by worth divine,

  Nor view with haughty scorn this mean abode.

  So saying, he led Æneas by the hand,

  And placed him on a cushion stuff’d with leaves,

  Spread with the skin of a Lybistian bear.

  [The episode of Venus and Vulcan omitted.]

  While thus in Lemnos Vulcan was employ’d,

  Awaken’d by the gentle dawn of day,

  And the shrill song of birds benearth the eaves