weep his much lov'd Ovid gone And softly whispering to avoid a Crime Wish that his Caesar wou'd forgive the sin Who e're he is we wish him happy too That seems to feel the ills the wretched know To all he asks may Heav'n indulgent be May Caesar's Face again Look Liberty And grant the Privilege at Home to dye Whilst my Commands my Book thou dost relate The World will damn thee ' cause unfortunate Exiles are never Witty Good or Great A Judge must weigh the Business and the Time What Vertue was may be esteem'd a Crime The Muse ne're smiles but when the Poet does And who can smile with Clouds upon his Brows In blest Security and Ease I write My Thoughts were free my Verses smooth and sweet But since Fates Storms have tost me to and fro Nor at this Instant do they cease to blow My Mind 's as rough as troubled Waters flow While I was safe I eager sought for Fame To Wealth preferr'd the Purchase of a Name But now my Book in silence softly go Thy Master's Fame is like his Fortunes low If any one shou'd find it 's mine and say This Book is to be Burnt or Thrown away The Title show tell him I write no more Of Love the Subject of my Books before Tell him I 'ave dearly suffer'd for th' Offence Lost my Estate as well as Innocence But thou perhaps wilt look for th' highest Place Expect that Caesar shou'd Applaud thy Verse That thou shou'dst have the Privilege o' th' Court And be Caresst by all that there resort O no! let but those Palaces forgive Those Gods Propitious be that in them live No longer Thunder from the Sacred Roof The Bolts I 've felt are of their Power Proof I 've known 'em Gentle and Forgiving too Their Goodness like their Power diffusive flow But very lately 't is they Punisht me The sad remembrance often makes me sigh The fearful Dove once struck she always fears The stronger Hawk when e're the Bird appears The Lamb from the Devouring Wolf once free For ever after Dreads to be his Prey Cou'd the lost Phaeton but live again He willingly wou'd own his Pride a Sin So having felt the Mighty's fiercest Flame I own my Fault and fear to sin again The Pilots that the Grecian Navy bore Will always dread the Danger o' th' Eubaean shoar The Boat that Ovid and his Fortunes had Their Navy like o' th' fatal Place's afraid Where angry storms a dreadful Shipwrack made Beware regard the Instances I 've told Rather be timerous my Book than bold What if thy Verse before the People lies The Mean may Pity when the Great despise While Icarus with Wings to fly assay'd He purchas'd this his Folly nam'd the Flood How to advise thee well is hard but go Time Place and e'ry Circumstance must show If a clear Stage thou seest and all things shine Like Caesar's Face before his Ovid's Sin Yet let your Air be grave and grave your Mien Or if a Favourite shou'd take you as you stand And kindly give you to his Caesar's hand He that first gave the wound that caus'd the pain May like Achilles Spear relieve the same But while you 'de help be carefull lest you Kill By daring Thunder that 's at present still My Hope 's but small my Fears are greater far Lest you Offend and so Augment my Care When to my Study thou shalt come thou 'lt see Some Books that had their Characters from me With harmless Titles most you 'll find appear Written before their Authour Guilty were But in a Corner dark and fit for them Three Books will lurking in a Hole be seen Fly these as soon as e're their Form you view Tell 'em unhappy Oedipus his Father slew And if thy Ovid's words have power to move Hate 'em be sure tho' they pretend to Love Next you 'll behold upon a Shelf my Book Some kindred Leaves that various Forms have took With these I 'de have you talk and in your talk Tell 'em how different from the Man I was I walk When Fortune smil'd and all my Thoughts were Gay When she seem'd fond to heap her Goods on me Tell 'em I 'm Chang'd and look like some of them Am wrinkled old deform'd and ugly seen I have more Cautions more I am afraid These very dangerous times my Book you 'll need But shou'dst thou carry all that crouded ly The Thousand Fears that trouble me thou 'dst swell the strongest cou'd not carry Thee ELEGY II. Ovid Prays the Gods wou'd deliver him from the Dangers of a Shipwrack and in the Elegy describes the Tempest YE Gods whose Power the roughest Torrent finds Conduct our Ship half Ruin'd by the Winds Why shou'd your Wrath with Caesar's be encreas'd One God has Frown'd another has been pleas'd Mars hated Troy Apollo kind was found Venus protected Pallas wou'd have Drown'd Aencas strength in Juno's rage had fail'd Had not another Deity prevail'd Neptune persu'd Vlysses with his Hate While good Minerva snatch'd him from his Fate And tho' we 're less than these in Birth and Skill Much less why mayn't some God be tender still And while one Frowns another please to Smile My words like Common Air confusedly Fly The Winds all hope of being heard deny And Waves scarce grant the Privilege to sigh In vain I all my Pray'rs to Heav'n direct The Gods can't hear not hearing won't protect Ah me the swelling Seas their Surges throw You 'd think they 'd reach the Stats so high they go And parting a'most show the Shades below All the vast space I see is Air and Floods Tost by the Waves and Threatn'd by the Clouds While different Winds in Murmurs make their Way The Sea is doubtful which he should Obey Eurus his Forces Marshals from the East When Zephyrus soon Threatens from the West Fierce Boreas from his Northern Quarter blows While Notus Charges Fighting as he goes Our Pilot in so dangerous a Case So odd so terrible a Storm as this Is yet uncertain what to make what fly Such strange Variety of Dangers nigh Now while I speak a Proud Insulting Wave Shows me Death waiting for the Life I have My Pious Wife so long my Joy and Care Knows nothing of the Threatning Storms I fear Believes my Banishment the only Grief I know Thoughtless at present what I undergo Did she but see me Riding in the Deep The Disproportion that the Surges keep Her Care wou'd double every pointed Ill And I for her two Deaths at least shou'd feel This Flash wou'd be a Death so long the Flame I plainly saw the Place from when it came The Treasury where God's their Lightning lay To burn the World when all shall disobey Death I do'nt sear let but the Tempest cease Dismiss the Winds and strike me where you please Happy to me the Man that Sickness knows Or falls by th' Sword and sinks beneath his Foes The Earth to such will kindly give a Grave The Decent
unequal Fortune's Weight Sad are his Notes adapted to his Fate No Ornaments in Prudence he 'd bestow Had I'come out as gay as others do The World had thought him Proud me Foolish too If he shou'd stammer at his Mother Tongue Or write as they that have been absent long 'T is this damn'd Jargon that the Countrey speaks Confounds his Words and such a difference makes Now Reader if it is not troublesome Direct me in this City where I 'm come And may the Gods for such a Kindness give A mighty Portion of the Goods they have May you ne'er Travel weary as I 've done But live a prosperous good old Age at Home I 'll Follow wheresoe'er you please to go Tho' I 'm Faint Hungry very Dirty too At this he walks and with his Finger shows This is the Court says he of Caesar's House This is the Via Sacra where you Pass A Street the World in admiration has Here you may see where Vesta's Temple 's set That 's Numa's Pallace there not far from it This is the Place where bold Evander dwelt And here they say this Hill Rome first was Built Thus while I wonder all the lovely sight I see a House the Posts in Armour set Good as some God had had it for his Seat Nay so surpriz'd I innocently cry'd Is n't this Jove's House it must be so I said For there hard by an Oaken Crown I see Sacred to Jove this makes my Augury But still my Guide he told me I was Wrong 'T was Caesar's Pallace and he'ad known it long I cou'd not for my Heart but yet conclude So stately all so happy the Abode Caesar must be at least a Second God Why are these Gates I said with Laurels set How come the Boughs thus artfully to meet Is it because perpetual Triumph's here And Laurels wanting for so many are Or is it Holy-day or this a Sign How happy all the People are in him If so to th' Number may he kindly add One Citizen his Anger 's wretched made Ah me so awful all the Place appears My Heart misgives me and admits of Fears My Paper sinks affected with the Thought As wild Disorder a Presage had Taught At this I Stop and Kneeling down I Pray First to my self at last aloud I say May Caesar Sovereign of the World below Great in his Empire and his Wisdom too Forgive my Father and Revoke his Doom And smile on me tho' Born an Exile's Son Next by a Vast but gradual Ascent Where Great Apollo's Temples were we went Where Books are seen of various Subjects writ Contain'd within a Place that joyns to it And here I thought my Kindred Books to see All but th' unfortunate our Misery But e're I lookt the several Classes o'er The Keeper told me there was none such there And rudely bid me in a barbarous Tone By fair means or by foul be quickly gone From thence to other Libraries I came But still no less than there Repuls'd with shame At this a sad Reflection made me sigh By Birth that I shou'd so unhappy be Lost by my Father's Crimes as well as he ELEGY II. In this Elegy Ovid complains of his Banishment and passionately desires to dye WHen the Gods Curse in Sufferings like mine Tho' great their Wrath yet greater is the Sin That I to Scythia shou'd Banisht be Live in Disgrace and dye with Infamy The Muses that I doted on and Pray'd So passionately courted as I did The Deities I so entirely lov'd That took my Offerings and my Songs approv'd These might one wou'd have thought the Gods have mov'd Apollo too the Patron of our Right Refus'd his Interest and left me quite Abandon'd and undone my Wrongs I tell But none can know their Force but I that feel I that my Life till now in Silence past Avoiding noise and bus'ness to the last Tender and Delicate no Labours knew Or Heats and Colds as Travellers do That I shou'd such an Alteration bear The Icy Seas and Frosts so common here Spent by Fatigues that I shou'd think to write That it shou'd please me too is stranger yet When all the wretched Tale I tell is true And what the Reader sees I feel and know When I had pass'd the Dangers of the Seas And reach'd the Land the sad appointed Place I thought my Mind might with the Vessel rest However be more peaceable at least But far from this new Horrors they affright The Towns the Men the Land a wretched Sight At this my Eyes obedient to my Mind Gusht out with Tears that long had bin confin'd Such Floods I wept as when great Waters flow From tallest Mountains coverd o're with Snow Dissolv'd by Rains that Threat'n all below While Rome the great the good the much lov'd Place My House my Wife my Friends my Fears encrease Often I ask to Dye but ask in vain As Heav'n reserv'd me for a farther Pain But that cann't be so exquisite my Grief The Torments that I know exceed Belief Why has the Fatal Steel escap'd my Throat Why has the Deep her Mouth unkindly shut The Gods in Complaisance to Caesar's Wrath Resolve me wretched and deny me Death ELEGY III. To his Wife With some Account of his Sickness TOo weak to write a Stranger 's hand I use But be n't my Dear too much surpriz'd at this Take the true Reason tho' I 'm loth to tell So much you love so very much I feel A sudden Illness seiz'd me with a mighty force And tho' so bad at first I still grew worse VVhile shooting Pains distorted every joint And frequent Sweats made all my Members faint My Fingers they refus'd the VVork they knew And disobey'd tho' I design'd it you No Means was left but by another's hand And this is that my Dearest VVife I send The want of Health 's no small no trivial Ill The Bravest pity when the Pains they feel When weary'd Nature Stagger'd with the Weight Disorder'd sinks beneath approaching Fate But mine 's much worse than e'er the Wretchedst knew The Place I live in doubles every Woe Here 's no Physitian to Relieve the Sick No healing Cordials to support the VVeak No VVitty Friend is found within this Place VVith pleasing Stories to divert in such a Case And make the sluggish Minutes mend their Pace In various Postures on my Bed I lye Restless in all yet still the same I Try VVhile crouding Thoughts are shuffling in my Mind But you as always I the deepest find Fond of your Name the wonted Sound I speak Improperly they say and Nonsence make So much I love that shou'd my Faultring Tongue Too Weak refuse to speak as it has done Shou'd you appear the Strings wou'd artful Play Tho' shrunk before wou'd all Obedience be A thousand little tender things I 'de say Talk like a Lover on his Wedding-day And more than talk I 'd love my Dear as he Such joy wou'd give new Measure to my Days While I not only
TWO BOOKS OF ELEGIES In Imitation of The Two First Books of Ovid de Tristibus with part of the Third To which is added VERSES upon several Occasions with some Translations out of the Latin and Greek Poets By THOMAS BALL M. A. of St. John's Colledge in Cambridge Turba Poetarum Nasonem novit audet Non fastiditis annumerare viris Ovid. LONDON Printed for Richard Cumberland at the Angel in St. Paul's Churth yard 1697. THE Epistle Dedicatory TO JOHN HARVEY Of Thurly in Bedford-shire Esq SIR WEre Patrons bound to Defend Books they never saw as Seconds are to Fight Men they never heard of I shou'd not have Presum'd to have made You a Dedication for I am Oblig'd to tell the World of my Misfortune You never saw one Line of these Elegies and so are absolutely disengag'd from all Inadvertencies Faults and Follys of what Nature soever And tho' Men are generally as fond of the Issues of their Brain as those of their Body and partially give it for themselves without Fault I am not so Conceited of mine as to think I have writ without Mistakes tho' there is none that I know of You may remember in July last when I made you a Visit about Peterborough I told you I had some Papers of this Nature in some Friends Hands in Town and wish'd I had had em then to have taken your Thoughts Not long after I received them and had no reason to alter my Design of Publishing 'em at one time or another Then I show'd them to some of my Acquaintance in the Countrey and several Persons agreeing in the same Opinion I took up this still desperate Resolution of Printing It has been a Humour in all Ages but I believe never so Vniversal as now for Men to think it a Detraction from their own Character to give another Man his and when Homer has been Burlesqu'd Virgil Travestied Waller Criticis'd on and Cowley Condemn'd no Body must take it ill Cowley was a Man of Admirable Wit and his Writings will Challenge a Respect 'till our Poets are inspir'd Waller indeed writ with more Art and was the first of our Countrey-men that Affected that agreeable Smoothness which with his large Share of Wit makes his Poems perpetually Entertaining But those that Rail for no other Design than to be thought Critiques are fond of a Character they are not able to maintain And tho' they are a great part of Mankind they are of so different a Complexion from the better part of Mankind that they have as little Respect as Modesty and it 's no Reflection to be out of their Favour When I first began these Elegies the only Motive to me was my Diversion and to Persue the Design of Entertaining my self I Choose this way of Imitation which admits of more Liberty And tho' the Alterations are not great nor many yet they are too many for a strict Translation Besides this I had another Reason which Prevail d with me more than my Ease and that was Ovid s extream Sense of his Misfortunes in a hundred places of his Elegies He is so Melted with his Sorrows that his Complaints discover a Weakness which is better hid Ovid's was indeed a very hard Case as could be and it 's no Wonder if the Affection he had for his own Countrey the passionate Tenderness for his Wife and Family together with the dreadful Apprehensions of the barbarous People he was going to if all these shockt his Resolution and made him write his Fears and it is rather to be wish'd he had done it seldomer than to be wonder'd he did it at all The true Occasion of his Banishment as far as I can learn has been a lasting Secret and men of his own time could but Guess the most probable Conjecture to me is that he suffer'd not so much for his own Fault as Caesar's that he was Conscious of something that made Caesar uneasie I don't think it was any Familiarity with Livia or Julia that gave him Augustus's Displeasure and those Verses Cur aliquid vidi cur noxia lumina feci Cur imprudenti cognita culpa mihi est signify no more than that he was unfortunately Privy to some dishonourable Action of Caesar's and he durst not trust him at home Had his Crime been of so high a Nature as to have wrong'd him in his Wife or Daughter Banishment had not been Punishment enough And had it been Livia he durst not so much as have mention'd her but we find him in the second Book of his Elegies which he writes to Augustus particularly commending his Livia Livia sic tecum sociales impleat annos Quae nisi te nullo conjuge digna fuit Quae si non esset caelebs te vita deceret Nullaque cui posses esse maritus erat But this is still Conjecture and all the Proofs that can be Amass'd of either side amount to no more and therefore I shall leave the Reader to his Liberty without pretending to determine from any of ' em But whatever was the Occasion of his Banishment he was Treated with great Respect by those of his own time and his Writings have been judg'd very Fortunate by those of several Ages since The two Seneca's Marcus and Lucius Velleius Paterculus Quintillian Cornelius Tacitus Martial Statius Pampinius Angelus Politianus Erasmus Julius Scaliger these and a great many more have all interested themselves in the Commendations of Ovid and are more than Common Authoritys And now SIR if you can find any thing in the following sheets that may Divert you when Tired with or Indisposed for better Studies I shall have the greatest part of my Design and only want your Pardon for this Freedom SIR Your most Obliged and very humble Servant T. Ball. The First ELEGY OF Ovid de Tristibus He applies himself to his Book that it shou'd go to Rome and admonishes what 's to be done GO to fam'd Rome my Book thy Verses show A Privilege thy Master had 'till now Go but Undrest Forlorn Unhappy go No Crown adorns a wretched Exile's Brow No Garb's allow'd but what his Sorrows show Vermillion Purple that are Fine and Gay With these while others Titles flourisht be Your Page my Book must want the Liberty These are the Ensigns only of the Great You must reflect your Master and his Fate Nor be asham'd of Blots for all that read Will know my Flowing Tears the Blots have made Go in my Words and Name Salute the Town The much lov'd Place that I so long have known If you shou'd meet a Man shou'd ask of me Tell him I live not from Misfortunes free If he asks more be silent let him read Lest you should say what 's better much unsaid The Reader may my Crimes perhaps repeat And say 't is just he suffer'd as he ought Be sure you don't defend tho' you cou'd wound A Cause that 's ill Protected ill is found If you shou'd find a Friend that shou'd Bemoan And often
knew The Dear Companion of my tender Hours My Goods my self my very Soul was yours How blest I was when Rome first showed me you Brought us acquainted made me think you true Has your repeated Oaths no force to bind All general and common as the Wind Sure Rome the great good Place I leave Cou'd ne'r nurse you no Monsters she can have Rather some Rock within the Scythian Sea Damn'd for a thousand Murders e'ery day Where Female Tygers Nurst you at their Breast Found you a Man but Chang'd you to a Beast But still there 's one way left and only one Freely to own the Injuri's you 'ave done By this tho' late you may oblige me so I may commend you as I blame you now ELEGY VIII To his Friend He shows him the Levity of the Vulgar how meanly they attend upon Fortune and withdraw their Services in Affliction He takes Occasion to Commend his Friend for several Qualifications and concludes the Elegy with an Instance of his Friendship MAy you live long my Friend and always well Know nothing of the Ills the wretched Feel And tho' my Pray'rs for me the Gods despise The same for you may Mount a Sacrifice While Fortune 's yours a Croud will hov'ring be Fondly Commending all they hear and see No sooner do's the Fickle Goddess Frown But all your Parasites my Friend are gone As Doves for new built Houses do prepare While Ruin'd Towers all neglected are As gath'ring Ants to crouded Barns do come So do's the Vulgar to the Richest Run As in the Sun your Sha dow do's Attend And Walks and Turns and Cringes as you Bend But when a Cloud appears the Part 's no more Tho' it seem'd more than half of you before So vulgar Souls will Dance to Fortune's Light A Cloud once spread they Vanish out of sight Heav'n knows my Soul I very often sigh And passionately Pray the Gods for Thee That these may all my Friend seem false to you Tho' I by sad Experience find 'em True While I was Prosperous as others great What Crouds for Favours wou'd my House beset The Building struck the Wary People Fly By one consent avoiding what was nigh Nor do I Wonder that they Thunder Fear Whose fi'ry Bolts the strongest eas'ly Tear Yet Caesar in adversity has said That Man 's the best that by his Friend has stay'd When good Orestes Worth fierce Thoas knew He Prais'd the Love in Pylades he saw Hector he often Patroclus approv'd Tho' he his Enemy Achilles lov'd When Theseus waited on his Friend in Death Pluto cou'd scarce believe so great a Truth Convinc'd he Mourn'd and pitty'd him that Fell Crying himself to see them love so well Alas how Few my just Complaints do move How few in Rome like those of old that Love So vast my Grief so very much my Fears So Boundless are my ever falling Tears That did not you the mighty Torrent stay The Gath'ring Flood wou'd Threaten like a Sea You that have Courage to be Good that Dare In greatest Dangers for your Friend appear Not meanly mov'd as sordid Spirits are Nor is your Judgment than your Courage less Your Eloquence as well as Virtues Please When you Defend the Nicest must Applaud Your Cause your Words your Thoughts so very good Eas'ly I can your Growing Fortune Read Some Greatness yet as I have often sayd No superstitious Omens tell me this Tokens that fond mistaken Zealots please My Reason's all the Augury I know By this no other Prodigy I go By this instructed Happiness I give Joy of the Present and the Future Goods you 'll have The small Pretence I early had to Wit Ruin'd my Fortunes when I came to Write Your better Arts not like my Trifling Skill Has rais'd your Honour and must raise it still But yet you know I ne'er was ill inclin'd My Thoughts were Salli's of a youthful Mind My Manners were not like my Verses loose And Love I only for Diversion Choose Then since you can excuse me justly too Defend me still as I have heard you do ELEGY IX In Praise of his Ship with some short Account of his Voyage JUstly I Praise my Ship so good so fine She bears Minerva's Name as well as mine So apt to sail she moves with any Wind And hasty leaves deserted Shores behind Proudly she scorns but just to overcome But reaches those that long have been from Home Defy's the strongest Billows when they Beat And Foaming all their wonted Force repeat I Boarded her when I to Corinth came And long without a Change I kept the same Thro' many Dangers I have safely steer'd Always entreating Pallas when I feard And now I hope to Make the distant Land The Getick Coast Augustus do's command She bore me once through boyst'rous troubled Seas A long and mighty dang'rous Way to Pass When standing to the Left we shunn'd before With much adoe we made the Imbrian shore Then with a gentle Wind and calmer Sea She eas'ly Touch'd at Samos in her Way O' th' other hand there stands a lofty Wood Fam'd for its Growth and for it's neighb'ring Flood Here I the wide Bistonian Fields survey Walking a Foot while she puts off to Sea From Hellespont Dardania she Gain'd And Lampsacus for her Priapus Fam'd Then to the Seas the same Leander Crosst When Beauteous Hero urg'd him to be Lost From hence she had Fair Cyzicon in view So famous for the Arts her People knew Thence to Byzantium she Bore away Where we behold two Seas within one Bay And now Minerva grant that she may Pass Those Moving Isles that lye upon the Seas Next let her reach the Thynnian Bay and Fall 'Till she comes near Anchialus high Wall Then she Mesembria and Odesus must Make And view some Towers for their Bacchus sake And those Alcathous when Wandring Made With all the Houshold Gods he had So to Miletus where 's the Place I 'm sent To end a weary Life in Banishment And if I safely tread th' expected shore I 'll Sacrifice a Lamb to Pallas Pow'r Heav'n knows we cann't at this time Compass more And you two Brothers you this Island Prays Conduct us in our double diff'rent ways Let one the Euxine make with happy Gales While the other to Bistonia sails Let Winds Convey us to the Place we wou'd Tho' diff'rent both yet both have very good ELEGY X. This is an Apology for the fore-going Elegies the whole Book being made during the Fatigue of his Travels which he urges in Excuse THere 's not a Letter Reader but I writ Unhappily pursuing my ill Fate I writ it most in cold December's Frost While the Adriatick with her Billows Tosst The rest I Finish'd when the Isthmus passt We all took Ship again and sail'd in haste So odd a Thought amaz'd the Cyclades To see a Poet writing on the Seas I Wonder'd too the Patience of my Muse That in a Storm she shou'd not then Refuse The Waves alas had never been her use
The World may call it Madness what they please But this I know my Verses gave me ease Tho' Threatning Signs they dreadfully appear'd And Waters in Disorder show'd they Fear'd Sometimes the Ship seem'd Bury'd in the Sea Still I writ on the very Lines you see When Boreas with all his Force prevails Stretches our Cables Ruffling all our Sails While Waters parting by the Storm 's command Roll into Hills like highest Heaps of Sand Or rather Taller Mountains on the Land The Pilot ' ffrighted thoughtless of his Art Begins to Pray a very awkard Part With much a doe half words he stammering said And Promis'd all the Gods he wou'd be good The Gods regardless wou'd not take his Word Nor any Comfort for his Pray'rs afford All things lookt Ghastly that I heard and saw While still Death's Image kept within my view When various Thoughts were strugling in my Mind I Pray'd I Fear'd my Fears my Pray'rs inclin'd One while I 'd Pray to make the distant Land Then I 'de in haste recall that Pray'r again Tho' Heaven knows I fear'd the Winds and See Yet still the Land seem'd fiercer much than they At Home where Tempests only make a Noise There ah there at Rome I ' ad Enemies What must I then in unknown Nations find Monsters in Nature rude il-bred unkind These Terms too mild and favourably run For Creatures only in their Likeness Men Whose chiefest Art 's a barbarous Delight Some knowledge in the Battels that they Fight Besides to these with Disrepute I go Banish'd by Caesar so at Home a Foe These Thoughts a Storm within my Breast had made The other might this never cou'd be laid Now Reader if you 're generous and good If you can Pardon as a Reader shou'd My Faults in this Disorder you will Pass Think on the Time each Circumstance of Place Think too that I have more Correctly Writ When safe on Land in Arbours I have sate My Body ne'er was us'd to Frosts like these Nor was I e'er in Winter on the Seas And now I 'm there by much to soon I find But grant ye Gods you Gods that once were Kind The Winds and Frost may with my Verses end The End of the First Book The Second BOOK OF Ovid de Tristibus IMITATED To Augustus Caesar URg'd by my Fate I write again I Try As tho' the Muses had not Ruin'd me 'T was they Perswaded Caesar what you Read And thought my Life was like my Verses lewd Had I been Wise I ' ad Hated 'em at first The Learned Sisters as the Poets boast A Rhiming Crew their smiles like a Disease Quickly Confound their very Votary's This I have often known and yet possest To these I fly of these alone seek Rest So beaten Fencers Challenges repeat And give their Mangl'd Bodies to be hit So Shipwrack't Vessels plough the swelling Main And dare the very self-same Rocks again Less may my Dangers be rather like him He that was heal'd and wounded with the same My Muse that mov'd the great Augustus so May she the same Augustus soften now The Gods they say in numbers soonest hear And always answer first a Poet's Pray'r So Caesar made the Italian Matâ—ons bow In Numbers offer what their Opis knew So Phoebus was address'd in aptest Plays Nor did Apollo scorn the Poet's Bays By these Examples Caesar may you go If it 's too much to pardon milder grow Should I deny your Justice I shou'd sin And impudently move your Wrath again But had not I offending urg'd you so You then had wanted to forgive me now Shou'd Jove as often thunder as we sin Unarm'd the God a thousand times had bin No when his Thunder 's gone the Noise no more The Air is purer than it was before By this he 's Father of the Gods and Men By this he lives a Long and Happy Reign Caesar like him is Pater Patriae Caesar commands and thunders too as he Then like him too be absolutely good Pardon your Ovid as the God he wou'd Nor yet less good than great do's Caesar live So many Instances of both we have Often the Parthians have own'd you kind So God-like is the Temper of your Mind You Pardon'd tho' again the People sinn'd Riches and Honours I have known you give To Enemies that wou'd not have you live You scorn the Methods Meaner Princes know By better Arts you can Oblige us so That all must Love as well as Fear you too That day that War has threatned all before That very day your Anger has been o're Both Sides to th' Temple have their Offerings brought The Conquer'd pleas'd so brave the Victor fought And as your Souldier 's fond to overcome Others by yours are Proud to be out-done My Case is better than a Foe 's appears I make no Plots nor cause you open Wars I Swear by Heav'n and every Blest Abode By Caesar's dearest self a Present God My Soul do's such Obedience afford Intirely yours it knows no other Lord I 've wisht that you might late to Heaven Go When Life through Age grew Troublesome below When you were weary of an Empire here The Gods for your Reception might Prepare And Place Augustus in an Empire there As often as my Gifts the Altars had Witness ye Gods this was the Pray'r I made My Books tho' one of them became my Crime They most nay That do's often Caesar Name By this I my Obedience gave Not that you Lustre from my Lines cou'd have To such a Height no Poet e're cou'd Fly Yet all that Write have liberty to try Jove can't be greater nor his Acts more good Yet Praise in Verse has often pleas'd the God He lov'd the Song and own'd the Story true How Gyants Pelion on Ossa threw Such Beauty in the Thought so strong the Sense Poets have had a Privilege e're since The Gods a thousand Bullocks they have had All bleeding fresh upon their Altars laid And yet tho' us'd to Plenty when a Lamb A single Offering to their Temple came The Gods wou'd smile and take the Sacrifice For this alone they 'd Bless their Votary's Unlucky Chance or rather damn'd Design Who e're he was at first was so unkind To read my Verses to so chast an Ear Good as the yet unthinking Virgins are That don't so much as Tremble in a Dream Or Grasp the Image of the Youth they 've seen My looser Lines have such Impressions made You think the Present as the other Bad Some jealous Favorite invented this Thus to undoe me by an Artifice Methinks I hear how spitefully he read What envious Comments on my Words he made How he wou'd blush as Counterfeits they faint Good Lord a Man shou'd be so impudent This is not strange since e'ery one approves The happy Man the great Augustus loves But surely damns unheard a Person 's Crime Augustus disapproving thinks a Sin Nay I can hate my very self and do To think I shou'd deserve a Frown from you
to a better place Their Princes safe they must not Captives be This early show'd a Right to Liberty I sha'n't here name the sad unhappy Fault That lost my Freedom and Misfortunes brought But those of which my Enemies accuse I never thought how loose so e're my Muse With these they 've often vext your Royal Breast Provok'd your Anger and destroy'd my Rest And all they said you thought severely true Nor do I wonder you believ'd 'em so Since Gods have been deceiv'd as well as you When Jove looks down to see the World below Condemn approve and know the things we do His leisure won't admit the nicest View So you like him tho' looking round about Some things a single look can ne'er find out Who can imagine States neglected lye The thoughts of Empire left for Poetry Easy the Weight must on your Shoulders sit Had you your self consider'd what I Writ The bold Panonia your strength defy's Nor is Illyrium in perfect Peace They on the Rhine their utmost Force prepare And Thracia still employs you in a War Armenia parleys when the Parthians show Their Spreading Colours as a Warlike Foe Germania flys before your Bolder Son Early made Brave by Victories you won No Head but yours cou'd so much Bus'ness do With so much Ease such mighty Order too Your thoughts to travel all your Empire o're And you Unruffl'd manage such a Pow'r No Part but Govern'd by your proper Care Yet none to Want what 's necessary there Shows that your Soul had a peculiar Mould Form'd by some Gods and made to rule the World Your Laws all Wise and so severely Good Your Life still stricter than the Laws you made Thus in a long Fatigue of Bus'ness seen That you shou'd think of any thing of mine I own my Verses loose unworthy far To reach the pious nice Augustus Ear Besides these Lines the whole Design declare You that with Fillets bind your Hair be gone Nor let the Matron with my Book be seen I only sing of youthful stolen Joys And such Gay Thoughts their Formal Wills displease Yet nothing Guards a Mind that will be Bad Precisest Matrons when they please are Lewd And tho' they never heard or saw my Book Some will be Whores and sin in e'ery Look One she reads Annals there perhaps she 'll find How Ilia a Vestal was enclin'd When dreaming Mars comprest the lovely Maid And Blest her with the Double Birth she had Let her but look the well writ Aeneids o're She wishes sighs and thinks on Venus Power Pity 's poor Dido when Aeneas sails And VVonders that the Queen no more Prevails There 's nothing tho' the purest of the Kind That mayn't Corrupt a Heart that 's ill inclin'd But this is not enough to Damn a Book Because ill meaning has the Reader Took Shall we prohibit Fire our common Use Because Incendiari's Burn with this The Traveller and Thief VVear Swords alike Because one Robs shall t' other take a Stick Or shall we pious ancient Cloysters Curse Because Maids talk of Sweet Hearts or of worse One in the very Temple as she Prays to Jove Is thinking of the Stories of his Love Thinking how many Mothers he might make Wishing her self a Beauty for his sake Another she at Juno's Altar Prays And thinks how Fair Europa Crost the Seas Pity 's poor Juno by her Jove betray'd The God so often Changing as he did But VVishes still she 'd bin the Charming Maid Shou'd she Minerva's awful Statue see So Good so Tall so full of Majesty Some Story still her strong desire wou'd sind How Erictihon was born a'fore his Time Because the Goddess hid him as they say And sure if Goddesses such Pranks will play Inferiour Nymphs their waiting Women may All things a Person eas'ly turns to ill Whose chiefest Law 's the Dictates of his Will The gravest Matrons have beheld in paint The lewdest Forms the Artist cou'd invent The Vestals have beheld th' Intreague of Stews The various ways those Proftitutes abuse And yet the Painter if the Piece was good Receiv'd the Praises that an Artist shou'd But why Oh why did I unhappy write Fond o' th' Fantastick Character a Wit My wanton Genius hurrying me along And never resting 'till I was undone Why did not I like other Poets move Thunder out Battels Wars not whine out Love Troy had engag'd me in a Noble Strain And inoffensive too my Thoughts had bin Here I had told the Grecian Policy And Troy's unfo rtunate Security Or had this bin an antiquated Theme I might have sung as well of greater Rome This had been pious and a Subject's part Duty excus'd the Nicety of Art Tho' Caesar had not been oblig'd by this His Worth so much exceeding all my Praise He must have pardon'd an officious Muse As Phoebus darting Rays affect our Eyes So Caesar's Glories in the View surprize When with a Naked Eye we see each Light 'T is troublesome and takes away our sight These were my thoughts and this believe it true Is all the Reason that I plead or knew As when a Man within a little Boat Safely in shallow Rivers rows about But shou'd he launch into the Swelling Main His Boat wou'd be too small his Art in vain So tho' I 've writ with Reputation too Of trivial Subjects Stories that I knew Shou'd I for this a greater Thought have had Have writ Jove's Thunder and the Wars he made Or Caesar's Wars but little less than those Next Jove's the Victory as good the Cause Awkward my weaker Numbers must have bin And Jove and Caesar suffer'd in the Strain Once I begun the mighty Task and Try'd I sung of Wars as other Poets did But still my Hero so surpast the rest I must have VVrit the worst if not the best Then I resolv'd to tell some amorous Tale With melting Words oblige the Longing Girl While frequent Blushes with Repeated Sighs Engaging Looks the Language of the Eyes Show how she loves and loving how she Dyes Curse o' this Thought why did I learn to Read Why did my Tutor teach me as he did And yet I suffer thro' Mistake as tho' Unlawful Ways of Love I did pursue As tho' I 'ad sought t' abuse the Nuptial Rites And gratifie my self with vile Delights This I Profess and Heaven knows it true Lawful are all the ways of Love I know No Man by me 's a Doubtful Father made I never wrong'd the meanest Person 's Bed My Life and Verse have always differ'd far Pleasant my Muse my Manners more severe Accius was Fierce Terence was soft and smooth 'Fore Tragedies preferring Plays less Rough. Nor yet am I the first that writ another way Anacreon's Applauded to this day For writing of a harmless Love like me Sappho had never reach'd an Excellence Had not she writ of Love without Offence The good Menander when he made his Plays Menander that diverts so many Ways He never Writ but Love was still his Theme Bewitching
Love the tender Virgin 's Dream He taught 'em Laws to manage all their Fire And while they Burn'd themselves with strong Desire Dissemble still and make their Lovers dye But Dye to Live and Meet with greater Joy What are the Iliads that the World approves But Wars occasion'd by Forbidden Loves How Helen melted by her Paris Voice Yields to his Charms and eagerly enjoys Had not Vlysses Wife so many Won Homer his Odysses had ne'er begun Nor we have Read the Wanderer from Home In all the Various Passions Homer Paints There 's none more Taking that he Represents Then when he tells how Mars with Venus lay And makes each God a Witness of their Joy How pleasantly her Husband is ' Reveng'd To let 'em lye till he prepares the Chains Many the Instances I yet cou'd heap Wou'd not the Reader and my Muse both sleep Catullus always most Correctly Writ His Lesbia the Subject of his Wit Hortensius and Servus lov'd like me And who wou'd fear to Follow such as they Gallus for Lycoris was never Blam'd Talking too much not Writing Gallus Damn'd Tibullus writes how freely Women swear What strange deluding sort of things they are They value strictest Oaths no more than Wind When e're they please to change a Fickle Mind How Wittily they will a Keeper Balk And when their Husband 's jealous how they talk And he Tibullus best these Truths might know At once the Cully and the Poet too Propertius next so great and very good How Men admir'd and Women lov'd he show'd Propertius yet Repeated Honours had Caesar his Friend approving what he did When these Succeeded all so well I thought I might pursue the Measures that they Taught I fear'd not where so many Ships had Past Or thought my Bark wou'd Shipwrackt be at last Had I but Play'd the Droll in Mimick Wit Had then bin safe and pleas'd a laughing Pit All Ages Sexes Flock with hast to these And love the Bawdy that they find in Plays To hear a Toothless Strumpet split her Sides Laugh 'till she pisses at the Words she Reads Judge me the Author 's such a Witty Man He must do more than other People can Thus I had made a Party to Retreat Had I but thus Buffoon'd it when I writ And all my Nonsence wou'd have bin Sheer Wit Shall stammering Mimicks then Protected live And others want the Favours that they have Shall Ovid suffer while he wou'd Delight Others be safe that do what Ovid writ My Lines by th' Mob as theirs huzza'd have bin ' And mine and theirs Augustus you have seen But seen as when we different Paintings view Diverting for the Skill the Painter knew And he a certain Due Reward receives Tho' he a Monster nay the Devil gives Within your Palace various Pictures hang The best Drawn Pieces by the Nicest Hand And yet more famous for their House than Paint Your Fathers Uncles by a long Descent Not far from these nay in the nearest Room Some Women hang as Naked as they 're Born Let greater Pens for bloody Wars prepare Inur'd to Dangers as their Hero's are Let these in strains their Caesar's Battels speak And show in Arms how like a God you look While others skill'd i' th art of Heraldry Tell all the Wonders of your Family How for some Ages Hero's have bin bred And how Augustus do's the rest exceed This I have often wisht but wisht in vain Nature designing me a weaker strain Far from the best yet not the worst so mean Virgil the Wonder of a Wonderous Age Whose Art does still some mighty things Presage Whose Writings give unto our Poets Laws Whether a great or humble Theme they choose If Warriours read in him their Art they find Honour and Courage in the Trojans joyn'd If Lovers take his Aeneids down They read how Dido and the Hero 's found How Jove he Thunder'd in the World above Kindly assisting their Design of Love Thus he in Notès so artfully cou'd Play The Fierce and Gentle all in him agree In him they Meet a pleasant Harmony Nor did he once disdain the Herdsman's Song But writ Bucolics in his Mother Tongue How Corydon for his Alexis Burn'd How proud Alexis Corydon he scorn'd He show'd how Nysa Mopsus lov'd A Humour Women always mov'd Tho' Mopsus Nature had design'd a Jest Mopsus was Rich and Nysa lov'd him best Thus when the Mantuan Poet led the way I thought to follow such a Guide as he To write like him cou'd ne'er have ruin'd me Nor yet do I more serious Subjects want Some Books of Sacred Feasts I have in Print One while my Muse in Tragick Buskins Trod All very solemn grave and some said good Another Work with Care and Pains I wrote Tho' in my Sentence 't was unfortunate Wanting the Authors last performing Stroak To give it Graces for the nicest Look In this my Metamorphosis I show The Face of things from Nothing down to you Wou'd you in this but Read my Innocence You 'd find how much the Poet lov'd the Prince You 'd Read in e'ery Line my very Soul Intirely yours without Reserves at all Nor was I ever Tempted when I writ Inferiour Men with disrepect to Treat I always hated a Satyrick Wit Ne'er Wounding any but the Author yet This show'd the Temper of a Peaceful Mind Form'd in my Infancy by Age refin'd For this no well-bred Roman triumphs now Pleas'd at the Punishment I undergo But rather Mourns the dismal story told And often wishes that I were recall'd May these Great Caesar move your Royal Breast 'Till you Remit my Sentence part at least If it 's too much to Pardon grant some Place Nearer my Native Country much than this The End of the Second Book The Third BOOK OF OVID IMITATED The Book entreats the Reader to be Candid and before he Condemns to consider the Disadvantages it was writ with He shows his coming to Rome where he met with a Guide that acquainted him with all the Curiosities of the Place ELEGY I. BE gentle Reader whosoe'er thou art Pitty a poor unhappy Wanderer's Part The Wretched Off spring of a Wretched Man Banish'd his Countrey to a Forreign Land But be n't affraid nor Blush at what he gives No thoughts of Love are Read within these Leaves The Author 's not so sensless to be merry now To Write as happy Poets when they Write do When Reason in her Infancy he knew And thought his Wit the better of the two 'T was then a lasting Train of Ills he laid Pleas'd with the Fond Ideas that he had He writ of Love and Flatter'd e'ery Sense Promis'd himself no Injuries from thence Had he but thought how Fond Pygmalion Woo'd How proudly when he lov'd the Statue stood No living Beauty he had ever Took Or Dar'd the Lightning that those Angels Look Or had but Caesar spoke such Writings Sin He'ad sooner anger'd any God than him But now his Subject's chang'd ah now too late Now when he feels