(2) Nor is it without cause the Muses’ choir hath been sent down by Highest Deity unto the host of men; in order that, forsooth, the terrene world should not seem too uncultured, had it lacked the charm of measures, but rather that with songs and praise of men accompanied with music, He might be lauded,—He who alone is all, or is the Sire of all; and so not even on the earths, should there have been an absence of the sweetness of the harmony of heavenly praise.

(4) They who long after success in actions sacrifice here to the Gods; for, soon in this world of man accrues success from action.

(2) But the right performance of actions which are effected in a divine manner, is entirely to be ascribed to some one of the more excellent natures. For since it is not possible to speak rightly about the Gods without the Gods, much less can any one perform works which are of an equal dignity with divinity, and obtain the foreknowledge of every thing without [the inspiring influence of] the Gods. For the human race is imbecile, and of small estimation, sees but a little, and possesses a connascent nothingness; and the only remedy of its inherent error, perturbation, and unstable mutation, is its participation, as much as possible, of a certain portion of divine light. But he who excludes this, does the same thing as those who attempt to produce soul from things inanimate, or to generate intellect from things unintelligent. For without the cooperation of a cause, he constitutes divine works from things which are not divine.

(3) "Nourished by the sacrifice, the Gods shall indeed bestow on you the enjoyments ye desire." Whoso enjoys — without offering to Them — Their gifts, he is verily a thief.

(1) The glory of Him who moveth everything Doth penetrate the universe, and shine In one part more and in another less. Within that heaven which most his light receives Was I, and things beheld which to repeat Nor knows, nor can, who from above descends; Because in drawing near to its desire Our intellect ingulphs itself so far, That after it the memory cannot go. Truly whatever of the holy realm I had the power to treasure in my mind Shall now become the subject of my song. O good Apollo, for this last emprise Make of me such a vessel of thy power As giving the beloved laurel asks! One summit of Parnassus hitherto Has been enough for me, but now with both I needs must enter the arena left. Enter into my bosom, thou, and breathe As at the time when Marsyas thou didst draw Out of the scabbard of those limbs of his. O power divine, lend'st thou thyself to me So that the shadow of the blessed realm Stamped in my brain I can make manifest,

(3) And know that the transgression which rebuts By direct opposition any sin Together with it here its verdure dries. Therefore if I have been among that folk Which mourns its avarice, to purify me, For its opposite has this befallen me." "Now when thou sangest the relentless weapons Of the twofold affliction of Jocasta," The singer of the Songs Bucolic said, "From that which Clio there with thee preludes, It does not seem that yet had made thee faithful That faith without which no good works suffice. If this be so, what candles or what sun Scattered thy darkness so that thou didst trim Thy sails behind the Fisherman thereafter?" And he to him: "Thou first directedst me Towards Parnassus, in its grots to drink, And first concerning God didst me enlighten. Thou didst as he who walketh in the night, Who bears his light behind, which helps him not, But wary makes the persons after him, When thou didst say: 'The age renews itself, Justice returns, and man's primeval time, And a new progeny descends from heaven.'

(61) If ye cavil at and accept not God's hints, Though ye count yourselves men, see, ye are women. The quantum of reason ye possessed is lost, Inasmuch as the unthankful are despicable, If ye really have trust in God, exert yourselves, And strive, in constant reliance on the Almighty." He said, "O friends, God has given me inspiration. The wit taught by God to the bee It fills its cells with liquid sweets, The skill taught by God to the silkworm

ONLY-Begotten, noble race of Jove, Blessed and fierce, who joy'st in caves to rove: 2 O, warlike Pallas, whose illustrious kind, Ineffable and effable we find: Magnanimous and fam'd, the rocky height, And groves, and shady mountains thee delight: In arms rejoicing, who with Furies dire And wild, the souls of mortals dost inspire. Gymnastic virgin of terrific mind, Dire Gorgons bane, unmarried, blessed, kind: Mother of arts, imperious; understood, Rage to the wicked., wisdom to the good: Female and male, the arts of war are thine, Fanatic, much-form'd dragoness, divine: 14 O'er the Phlegrean giants rous'd to ire, Thy coursers driving, with destruction dire. Sprung from the head of Jove, of splendid mien, Purger of evils, all-victorious queen. Hear me, O Goddess, when to thee I pray, With supplicating voice both night and day, And in my latest hour, peace and health, Propitious times, and necessary wealth, And, ever present, be thy vot'ries aid, O, much implor'd, art's parent, blue eyed maid.

(363) make the oaks of the just— ‘To bear acorns at their summit, and bees in the middle; And the sheep are bowed down with the weight of their fleeces 3 ,’ and many other blessings of a like kind are provided for them. And Homer has a very similar strain; for he speaks of one whose fame is— ‘As the fame of some blameless king who, like a god, Maintains justice; to whom the black earth brings forth Wheat and barley, whose trees are bowed with fruit, And his sheep never fail to bear, and the sea gives him fish 4 .’ Still grander are the gifts of heaven which Musaeus and his son 5 vouchsafe to the just; they take them down into the world below, where they have the saints lying on couches at a feast, everlastingly drunk, crowned with garlands; their idea seems to be that an immortality of drunkenness is the highest meed of virtue. Some extend their rewards yet further; the posterity, as they say, of the faithful and just shall survive to the third and fourth generation. This is the style in which they praise justice. But about the wicked there is another strain; they bury them in a slough in Hades, and make them carry water in a sieve; also while they are yet living they bring them to infamy, and inflict

(379) Assuredly. Then God, if he be good, is not the author of all things, as the many assert, but he is the cause of a few things only, and not of most things that occur to men. For few are the goods of human life, and many are the evils, and the good is to be attributed to God alone; of the evils the causes are to be sought elsewhere, and not in him. That appears to me to be most true, he said. Then we must not listen to Homer or to any other poet who is guilty of the folly of saying that two casks ‘Lie at the threshold of Zeus, full of lots, one of good, the other of evil lots 10 ,’ and that he to whom Zeus gives a mixture of the two ‘Sometimes meets with evil fortune, at other times with good;’ but that he to whom is given the cup of unmingled ill, ‘Him wild hunger drives o’er the beauteous earth.’ And again— ‘Zeus, who is the dispenser of good and evil to us.’ And if any one asserts that the violation of oaths and treaties, which was really the work of Pandarus 11 , was brought about by Athene and Zeus, or that the strife and contention of the gods was instigated by Themis and Zeus 12 , he shall not have our approval; neither will we allow our young men to hear the words of Aeschylus, that

The FUMIGATION from. MANNA. O Nurs'd with Dionysius, doom'd to keep Thy dwelling in the widely-spreading deep: With joyful aspect to my pray'r incline, Propitious come, and bless the rites divine: Thro' earth and sea thy ministers attend, And from old Ocean's stormy waves defend: For ships their safety ever owe to thee, Who wand'rest with them thro' the raging sea. Come, guardian pow'r, whom mortal tribes desire, And far avert the deep's destructive ire. Next: LXXV: To the Muses Sacred Texts | Classics « Previous: The Initiations of Orpheus: LXXIII: To Leucothea Index Next: The Initiations of Orpheus: LXXV: To the Muses » Sacred Texts | Classics

(3) I was as one who still retains the feeling Of a forgotten vision, and endeavours In vain to bring it back into his mind, When I this invitation heard, deserving Of so much gratitude, it never fades Out of the book that chronicles the past. If at this moment sounded all the tongues That Polyhymnia and her sisters made Most lubrical with their delicious milk, To aid me, to a thousandth of the truth It would not reach, singing the holy smile And how the holy aspect it illumed. And therefore, representing Paradise, The sacred poem must perforce leap over, Even as a man who finds his way cut off; But whoso thinketh of the ponderous theme, And of the mortal shoulder laden with it, Should blame it not, if under this it tremble. It is no passage for a little boat This which goes cleaving the audacious prow, Nor for a pilot who would spare himself. "Why doth my face so much enamour thee, That to the garden fair thou turnest not, Which under the rays of Christ is blossoming?

The FUMIGATION from MANNA. HEAR me, O Goddess! whose emerging ray Leads on the broad refulgence of the day; Blushing Aurora, whose celestial light Beams on the world with red'ning splendours bright: Angel of Titan, whom with constant round, Thy orient beams recall from night profound: Labour of ev'ry kind to lead is thine, Of mortal life the minister divine. Mankind in thee eternally delight, And none presumes to shun thy beauteous sight. Soon as thy splendours break the bands of rest, And eyes unclose with pleasing sleep oppress'd; Men, reptiles, birds, and beasts, with gen'ral voice, And all the nations of the deep, rejoice; For all the culture of our life is thine. Come, blessed pow'r! and to these rites incline: Thy holy light increase, and unconfin'd Diffuse its radiance on thy mystic's mind. Next: LXXVIII: To Themis Sacred Texts | Classics « Previous: The Initiations of Orpheus: LXXVI: To Mnemosyne, or the G... Index Next: The Initiations of Orpheus: LXXVIII: To Themis » Sacred Texts | Classics