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(From On the Nuptials of Peleus, and Thetis)
Translated by F. Nott
THERE Ariadne, racked with amorous pains, | |
| On Naxos’ billow-beaten shore complains; | |
| And eyes the rapid bark, that bears away | |
| Her perjured Theseus o’er the distant sea: | |
| Though golden sleep no more her sense deceives, | 5 |
| She scarce the horror of the scene believes; | |
| Scarce thinks herself the wretch which now she stands, | |
| A hapless wretch, forsook in desert lands! | |
| See, sped with oars, the youth regardless goes; | |
| And the wild winds disperse his faithless vows! | 10 |
| While Minos’ daughter views his flight from far, | |
| And bathes the reedy strand with many a tear; | |
| Now like a frantic bacchanal she raves, | |
| And her fond soul is tossed on sorrow’s waves! | |
| No slender fillet binds her yellow head, | 15 |
| No shadowing veil is o’er her bosom spread, | |
| No modest zone confines its tumid pride, | |
| Or longer strives its struggling charms to hide; | |
| But each gay ornament her beauty wore, | |
| Wet with the surge, lies scattered on the shore: | 20 |
| Not then the fillet, which her locks should bind, | |
| Not then her garb, the sport of waves and wind, | |
| Employ her thought,—thou, Theseus, thou alone, | |
| Reign’st the proud tyrant of her bosom’s throne! | |
| Ill-fated fair! whom Venus doomed to prove | 25 |
| The thorny cares, and agonies of love; | |
| What time from his Piræus Theseus fled, | |
| And sought the isle thy cruel father swayed. * * * * * | |
| Oft, they relate, with burning grief oppressed, | |
| The shriek, loud-sounding, issued from her breast; | 30 |
| Oft to the craggy cliffs enraged she ’d fly, | |
| O’er the wide waste of waters bend her eye; | |
| Then to the shore direct her rapid way, | |
| Cast her bared feet’s soft coverings away; | |
| At length in sweetly plaintive accent cry, | 35 |
| While her moist lips breathed many a chilling sigh: | |
| “Thus dost thou leave me, from my country torn, | |
| Perfidious Theseus, on this coast forlorn? | |
| Thus, in contempt of yon attesting skies, | |
| Bear back with thee thy impious perjuries? | 40 |
| Could no remembrance of our former love | |
| Thy savage purpose, base barbarian, move? | |
| Were no remains of pity left behind, | |
| To soothe the various tortures of my mind? * * * * * | |
| “Fool that I am! but madness turns my brain, | 45 |
| To senseless winds thus vainly to complain; | |
| Vainly to think that they could hear me mourn, | |
| Or pitying accents to my sighs return! | |
| Ah, how far hence he flies, on ocean tossed! | |
| No human form is seen along this coast; | 50 |
| No wretch like me, my sorrowing tale to hear! | |
| Why, fortune, thus insult my keen despair? | |
| O, had it been imperial Jove’s command, | |
| That Attic ships had ne’er seen Cretan land; | |
| That the famed bark, which bore the prize away | 55 |
| From the fierce bull, had never ploughed the sea; | |
| And that the youth, who smiled such sweet deceit, | |
| Had never entered Minos’ royal gate!” | |
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