ART. XI. The first and fourth Books of the Odes of Horace, tranf lated into English Verfe. 8vo. 2s. 6d. Hatchard. 1799. WITHOUT fatiguing attention with an elaborate difquifition on the Odes of Horace, the difficulty of tranflating them, or the merits of their tranflators, we fhall, at once, announce the prefent verfion of the first and fourth Books, as the best (on the whole, decidedly the best) that hath yet appeared in an English drefs. Hitherto, Francis feems to have holden the moft diftinguished place among the Englifh verfifiers of Horace.

That our readers may determine, to which of these rival poets the wreath is due, we shall lay before them, the third Ode of the first Book; firft by Francis, and fecondly, by the new translator.

By FRANCIS.

"To the Ship, in which Virgil failed to Athens. "So may the Cyprian Queen divine,

And the twin-stars with faving luftre shine.

So

may

the father of the wind

All others, but the western breezes, bind;
As you, dear veffel! fafe restore

The intrufted pledge to the Athenian shore,
And of my foul the partner fave,

My much lov'd Virgil from the raging wave.

Or oak, or brafs, with triple fold,

Around that daring mortal's bofom roll'd,

Who firft, to the wild ocean's rage,

Launch'd the frail bark, and heard the winds engage,
Tempeftuous, when the fouth defcends

Precipitate, and with the north contends;
Nor fear'd the ftars portending rain,
Nor the loud tyrant of the western main,
Of power fupreme the ftorm to raise,
Or calmer fmooth the furface of the feas.
What various forms of death could fright
The man who view'd with fixt unfbaken fight,
The floating monfters, waves enflam'd,

And rocks, for fhipwreck'd fleets, ill-famed?

the practice of incurring debts without the profpect, or intention, of paying them, thereby involving hundreds in ruin to fupport the profligate extravagance of one, as indubitable proofs of genius, liberality, and fpirit; to regard the neglect of all public duty in order to devote every hour to inglorious idleness in the arms of a prostitute, as an infallible mark of genuine patriotism and public virtue; and the fashionable divifion of time between tavern orgies, the gaming tables, and the ftews, as indifputable symptoms of the growth of amiability and gentleness of manners!!!

Jove has the realms of earth in vain
Divided by the inhabitable main,
If thips profane, with fearlefs pride
Bound o'er the inviolable tide.
No laws, or human or divine,

Can the prefumptuous race of man confine.
Thus from the fun's ethereal beam

When bold Prometheus ftole the enlivening flame,
Of fevers dire a ghaftly brood

Till then unknown, the unhappy fraud pursued;
On earth their horrors baleful spread,
And the pale monarch of the dead,
Till then flow-moving to his

prey,

Precipitately rapid, fwept his way.
Thus did the venturous Cretan dare

To tempt, with impious wings, the void of air';
Thro' hell, Alcides urg'd his courfe;

No work too high for man's audacious force.
Our folly would attempt the fkies,
And with gigantic boldness impious rise;
Nor Jove, provok'd by mortal pride,
Can lay his angry thunderbolts afide."

By the new TRANSLATOR.-The fame.
"The goddess of the Cyprian green,
The brothers of the Spartan Queen,
Beaming from ftars of light a friendly ray;
And he, whofe power the tempeft binds,
Reftraining, all fave western, winds,
So guide thee on thy way!*

Lov'd bark! as to thy duty juít,
Thou giv'ft once more thy facred trust,
My abfent Virgil to this anxious heart:
Oh, fafe from peril, I implore,
Waft gently to the Athenian shore
My foul's far better part!

Sure, oak and triple brafs were found.

That hardy mortal's breast around,

* This reminds us of a fimilar paffage in Theocritus, to which, perhaps, the tranflator had an eye:

But ye, though now the clofing waves pursue,
Quick refcue from the chasm the dying crew!
Lo, the clouds break! their scatter'd fragments fly,
Whilft the drear winds in whispering murmurs die;
And each mild ftar, that marks the tranquil night,
Gilds the repofing wave with friendly light."

Polwhele's Theocritus, Vol. I. P. 157.

Who

Who firft dar'd ocean's unknown depths to brave;
Who first his fragile bark refign'd,
Adventurous, to the driving wind
And unrelenting wave!

Nor fear'd the blaft of Lybia join'd
In conflict with the northern wind,
The watery Hyads, nor loud Aufter's power;
At whofe high bidding, on the deep,
The Adriatic billows fleep,

Or black'ning tempefts lower.

What form of death his foul could awe,
Whofe fteady eye unalter'd faw

The unwieldy tribes of ocean tumbling round?
Who faw, unmov'd, the fwelling deep,
And fell Acroceraunia's steep

For many a wreck* renown'd?

In vain creative wifdom's hand,
Amid the widely fever'd land,
In length unfocial pour'd the hoary tides;
If, heedlefs of the high decree,

O'er every interdicted fea
The impious veffel glides.

To fuffering fteel'd, perverfely bold,
Man grafps the woe the Gods behold,
And fondly rufhes on forbidden ill:
With fatal fraud Prometheus won
The ethereal flame: a world undone

Yet mourns his baleful fkill.

Hence, loof'd o'er earth's fair face to range,
A hoft of fpectres new and strange,

Gaunt famine ftalk'd, and fever's fiery race;
And death, till then a distant foe,
With gradual step advancing flow,
Infatiate urg'd his pace.

Amid the azure void of Heaven,
On plumes to mortals never given,
His tracklefs way the Cretan next essay'd:
The toil of Hercules defy'd

Black Acheron's oppofing tide,

And burft the infernal fhade.

The darings of the human mind
No awe can check, no limits bind;

To Heaven itself our fenfeless pride afpires:
Nor Jove, (fo faft our crimes increase)
Can give his vengeance pause, or cease
To grafp his angry fires."

To this tranflator Francis is dull and fpiritlefs. Of Mifs Sewd's Horatian Odes we entertain no very high opinion; though we fet a due value on her poetical talents. It may be amusing, however, to fee Francis, Seward, and our anonymous translator pla ced in competition with each other.

Book the Firft. Ode the Ninth.

By FRANCIS.

"Behold Soracte's airy height,

See how it ftands an heap of fnow :
Behold the winter's hoary weight
Opprefs the labouring woods below ;
And, by the feafon's icy hand
Congeal'd, the lazy rivers ftand.
Now melt away the winter's cold,
And larger pile the cheerful fire;
Bring down the vintage four-year-old,
Whofe mellow'd heat can mirth inspire;
Then to the guardian powers divine
Carelefs, the reft of life refign:
For when the warring winds arife,
And o'er the fervid ocean fweep,
They fpeak-And lo! the tempeft dies
On the fmooth bofom of the deep:
Unfhaken ftands the aged grove,
And feels the providence of Jove.
To-morrow with its cares depife,

And make the present hour your own;

Be fwift to catch it as it flies,

And score it up as clearly won;

Nor let your youth difdain to prove

The Joys of dancing and of love.

By SEWARD. The fame.

"In dazzling whitenefs, lo! Soracte towers,
As all the mountain were one heap of fnow!
Rush from the loaded woods the glittering showers;
The froft-bound waters can no longer flow.
Let plenteous billets, on the glowing hearth,
Diffolve the ice-dart ere it reach thy veins;
Bring mellow wines to prompt convivial mirth,
Nor heed the arrefted streams, or flippery plains,

NO. XXV. VOL. VI.

Y

High

High Heaven, refiftlefs, in his varied fway,
Speaks!The wild elements contend no more;
Nor then, from raging feas, the foamy Spray

Climbs the dark rocks, or curls upon the shore.
And peaceful, then, yon aged afh shall stand;
In breathlefs calm the dusky Cypress rise;
To-morrow's deftiny the Gods command,
To-day is thine; enjoy it, and be wife."
By the new TRANSLATOR.-The fame.

"See! Thaliarchas! cloath'd in fnow,
Soracte rifes white in air:

Keen Froft forbids the ftream to flow,

And scarce the woods their plumy burthen bear.

Hafte! cheer the piercing feafon's cold,

Pile high with wood the blazing hearth;

Let generous wine, four fummers old,

Flame from the cafk, and crown the board with mirth.

To Heaven permit the reft, whose will,

When wild winds war with wintery feas,

Can lull them to a calm, fo ftill,

That not a murmur waves the trembling trees.

Inquire not of to-morrow's doom

To-day account a certain gain;

;

While time yet fpares thy youthful bloom,

Nor fcorn fweet love, nor fhun the choral train.”

These three verfions are, neither of them, faultlefs. In Francis, we object to "airy height," and "hoary weight," as monotonous, to fay nothing of the rhyme; and to "the Seafons," as too general a term; and, in Seward, to the paraphraftic turn of the whole, in which the bustling action of the original is entirely loft. Her paraphrafe, indeed, is not from Horace but from Francis. Francis fays, in a note: "conftet nive, as if the whole mountain were an heap of fnow;" to which Seward echoes: " as all the mountain were one 'heap of fnow," &c. &c. In the new translator, we find one or two expreffions, too general, and, perhaps, affected; but we think him far fuperior to Seward, and (except in the laft ftanza) to Francis. In the mean time we have not forgotten Mr. Bofcawen to whom fome critics have adjudged the palm of victory. But not having hist book in our poffeffion we could form no eftimate of its comparative merits.

ART. XII. Lord Auckland's Triumph; or, the Death of Crim. Con. a pair of prophetic Odes. To which are added, an Addrefs to Hymen; an Oe to the Paffions; Advice to Young Women, or the Rofe and Strawberry; a Fable. Wub a most interefting Poftfcript. By Peter Pindar, Efq. 4to. Pp. 52. 2s. 6d. Weft and Hughes,

1800.

WHOEVER