Today | News | Books | Recipes Adventure | Science Fiction | Ghost stories | Poetry | Children | History Book50 For life protracted to a distant day! To see our house by sickness, pain pursued, And scenes of death incessantly renewed: In sable weeds to waste the joyless years, And drop, at last, mid solitude and tears! 355 The Pylian's (if we credit Homer's page) Was only second to the raven's age. "O happy, sure, beyond the common rate, Who warded off, so long, the stroke of fate! Who told his years by centuries, who so oft 360 Quaffed the new must! O happy, sure"--But, soft. This "happy" man of destiny complained, Cursed his gray hairs, and every god arraigned; What time he lit the pyre, with streaming eyes, And, in dark volumes, saw the flames arise 365 Round his Antilochus:--"Tell me," he cried, To every friend who lingered at his side, "Tell me what crimes have roused the Immortals' hate, That thus, in vengeance, they protract my date?" So questioned heaven Laertes--Peleus so-- 370 (Their hoary heads bowed to the grave with woe) While this bewailed his son, at Ilium slain; That his, long wandering o'er the faithless main. While Troy yet flourished, had her Priam died, With what solemnity, what funeral pride, 375 Had he descended, every duty paid, To old Assaracus, illustrious shade!-- Hector himself, bedewed with many a tear, Had joined his brothers to support the bier; While Troy's dejected dames, a numerous train, 380 Followed, in sable pomp, and wept amain, As sad Polyxena her pall had rent, And wild Cassandra raised the loud lament: Had he but fallen, ere his adulterous boy Spread his bold sails, and left the shores of Troy. 385 But what did lengthened life avail the sire? To see his realm laid waste by sword and fire. Then too, too late, the feeble soldier tried Unequal arms, and flung his crown aside; Tottered, his children's murderer to repel, 390 With trembling haste, and at Jove's altar fell, Fell without effort; like the steer, that, now, Time-worn and weak, and, by the ungrateful plow, Spurned forth to slaughter, to the master's knife Yields his shrunk veins and miserable life. 395 His end, howe'er, was human; while his mate, Doomed, in a brute, to drain the dregs of fate, Pursued the foes of Troy from shore to shore, And barked and howled at those she cursed before. I pass, while hastening to the Roman page, 400 The Pontic king, and Crœsus, whom the Sage Wisely forbade in fortune to confide, Or take the name of HAPPY, till he died. That Marius, exiled from his native plains, Was hid in fens, discovered, bound in chains; 405 That, bursting these, to Africa he fled, And, through the realms he conquered, begged his bread, Arose from age, from treacherous age alone: For what had Rome, or earth, so happy known, Had he, in that bless'd moment, ceased to live, 410 When, graced with all that Victory could give, "Pride, pomp, and circumstance of glorious war," He first alighted from his Cimbrian car! Campania, prescient of her Pompey's fate, Send a kind fever to arrest his date: 415 When lo! a thousand suppliant altars rise, And public prayers obtain him of the skies. Ill done! that head, thus rescued from the grave, His Evil Fate and ours, by Nilus' wave, Lopp'd from the trunk:--such mutilation dire } 420 Cornelius 'scaped; Cethegus fell entire; } And Catiline pressed, whole, the funeral pyre. } Whene'er the fane of Venus meets her eye, The anxious mother breathes a secret sigh For handsome boys; but asks, with bolder prayer, 425 That all her girls be exquisitely fair! "And wherefore not? Latona, in the sight Of Dian's beauty, took unblamed delight." True; but Lucretia cursed her fatal charms, When spent with struggling in a Tarquin's arms; 430 And poor Virginia would have changed her grace For Rutila's crooked back and homely face. "But boys may still be fair?" No; they destroy Their parents' peace, and murder all their joy; For rarely do we meet, in one combined, 435 A beauteous body and a virtuous mind, Though, through the rugged line, there still has run A Sabine sanctity, from sire to son.-- Besides, should Nature, in her kindest mood, Confer the ingenuous flush of modest blood, 440 The disposition chaste as unsunned snow-- (And what can Nature more than these bestow, These, which no art, no care can give)?--even then, They can not hope, they must not, to be men! Smit with their charms, the imps of hell appear, 445 And pour their proffers in a parent's ear, For prostitution!--infamously bold, And trusting to the almighty power of gold: While youths in shape and air less formed to please No tyrants mutilate, no Neros seize. 450 Go now, and triumph in your beauteous boy, Your Ganymede! whom other ills annoy, And other dangers wait: his graces known, He stands professed, the favorite of the town; And dreads, incessant dreads, on every hand, 455 The vengeance which a husband's wrongs demand: For sure detection follows soon or late; Born under Mars, he can not scape his fate. Oft on the adulterer, too, the furious spouse Inflicts worse evils than the law allows; 460 By blows, stripes, gashes some are robbed of breath And others, by the mullet, racked to death. "But my Endymion will more lucky prove, And serve a beauteous mistress, all for love." No; he will soon to ugliness be sold, 465 And serve a toothless grandam, all for gold. Servilia will not lose him; jewels, clothes, All, all she sells, and all on him bestows; For women naught to the dear youth deny, Or think his labors can be bought too high: 470 When love's the word, the naked sex appear, And every niggard is a spendthrift here. "But if my boy with virtue be endued, What harm will beauty do him?" Nay, what good? Say, what availed, of old, to Theseus' son, 475 The stern resolve? what to Bellerophon?-- O, then did Phædra redden, then her pride Took fire, to be so steadfastly denied! Then, too, did Sthenobœa glow with shame, And both burst forth with unextinguished flame! 480 A woman scorned is pitiless as fate, For, there, the dread of shame adds stings to hate. But Silius comes.--Now, be thy judgment tried: Shall he accept, or not, the proffered bride, And marry Cæsar's wife? hard point, in truth: 485 Lo! this most noble, this most beauteous youth, Is hurried off, a helpless sacrifice To the lewd glance of Messalina's eyes! --Haste, bring the victim: in the nuptial vest Already see the impatient Empress dress'd; 490 The genial couch prepared, the accustomed sum Told out, the augurs and the notaries come. "But why all these?" You think, perhaps, the rite Were better, known to few, and kept from sight; Not so the lady; she abhors a flaw, 495 And wisely calls for every form of law. But what shall Silius do? refuse to wed? A moment sees him numbered with the dead. Consent, and gratify the eager dame? He gains a respite, till the tale of shame, 500 Through town and country, reach the Emperor's ear, Still sure the last--his own disgrace to hear. Then let him, |