The Praise Of Pindar In Imitation Of Horace His Second Ode Book 4

Pindarum quisquis studet oemulari, &c.

I.

Pindar is imitable by none;

The phoenix Pindar is a vast species alone.

Whoe’er but Daedalus with waxen wings could fly

And neither sink too low nor soar too high?

What could he who followed claim

But of vain boldness the unhappy fame,

And by his fall a sea to name?

Pindar’s unnavigable song,

Like a swollen flood from some steep mountain, pours along;

The ocean meets with such a voice

From his enlarged mouth as drowns the ocean’s noise.

II.

So Pindar does new words and figures roll

Down his impetuous dithyrambic tide,

Which in no channel deigns to abide,

Which neither banks nor dikes control.

Whether the immortal gods he sings

In a no less immortal strain,

Or the great acts of god-descended kings,

Who in his numbers still survive and reign,

Each rich embroidered line,

Which their triumphant brows around

By his sacred hand is bound,

Does all their starry diadems outshine.

III.

Whether at Pisa’s race he please

To carve in polished verse the conquerors’ images,

Whether the swift, the skillful, or the strong

Be crowned in his nimble, artful, vigorous song,

Whether some brave young man’s untimely fate

In words worth dying for he celebrate,

Such mournful and such pleasing words

As joy to his mother’s and his mistress’ grief affords,

He bids him live and grow in fame;

Among the stars he sticks his name;

The grave can but the dross of him devour,

So small is death’s, so great the poet’s power.

Lo, how the obsequious wind and swelling air

The Theban swan does upwards bear

Into the walks of clouds, where he does play,

And with extended wings opens his liquid way,

Whilst, alas, my timorous Muse

Unambitious tracks pursues;

Does, with weak, unballast wings,

About the mossy brooks and springs,

About the trees’ new-blossomed heads,

About the gardens’ painted beds,

About the fields and flowery meads,

And all inferior beauteous things,

Like the laborious bee,

For little drops of honey flee,

And there with humble sweets contents her industry.

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• Three Songs Of Zahir U Din by Adela Florence Nicolson
• Thoughts Mahomed Akram by Adela Florence Nicolson
• Though In My Firmament Thou Wilt Not Shine by Adela Florence Nicolson
• This Month The Almonds Bloom At Kandahar by Adela Florence Nicolson
• There Is No Breeze To Cool The Heat Of Love by Adela Florence Nicolson
• The Window Overlooking The Harbour by Adela Florence Nicolson
• The Tom Toms by Adela Florence Nicolson
• The Temple Dancing Girl by Adela Florence Nicolson
• The Teak Forest by Adela Florence Nicolson
• The Singer by Adela Florence Nicolson
• The River Of Pearls At Fez Translation by Adela Florence Nicolson
• The Rice Was Under Water by Adela Florence Nicolson
• The Rice Boat by Adela Florence Nicolson
• The Regret Of The Ranee In The Hall Of Peacocks by Adela Florence Nicolson
• The Rao Of Ilore by Adela Florence Nicolson
• The Plains by Adela Florence Nicolson
• The Net Of Memory by Adela Florence Nicolson
• The Masters by Adela Florence Nicolson
• The Lute Player Of Casa Blanca by Adela Florence Nicolson
• The Lament Of Yasmini The Dancing Girl by Adela Florence Nicolson

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