Cuma, refusing to eternize their State, Though Brought Thither by the Muses
Project Gutenberg EPUB3 edition
Homer and Chapman, George
O to what fate hath Father Jove given o’er My friendless life, born ever to be poor! While in my infant state he pleas’d to save me, Milk on my reverend mother’s knees he gave me, In delicate and curious nursery; Æolian Smyrna, seated near the sea, (Of glorious empire, and whose bright sides Sacred Meletus’ silver current glides,) Being native seat to me. Which, in the force Of far-past time, the breakers of wild horse, Phriconia’s noble nation, girt with tow’rs; Whose youth in fight put on with fiery pow’rs, From hence, the Muse-maids, Jove’s illustrous Seed, Impelling me, I made impetuous speed, And went with them to Cuma, with intent T’ eternize all the sacred continent And state of Cuma. They, in proud ascent From off their bench, refus’d with usage fierce The sacred voice which I aver is verse. Their follies, yet, and madness borne by me, Shall by some pow’r be thought on futurely, To wreak of him whoever, whose tongue sought With false impair my fall. What fate God brought Upon my birth I’ll bear with any pain, But undeserv’d defame unfelt sustain. Nor feels my person (dear to me though poor) Any great lust to linger any more In Cuma’s holy highways; but my mind (No thought impair’d, for cares of any kind Borne in my body) rather vows to try The influence of any other sky, And spirits of people bred in any land Of ne’er so slender and obscure command.