Poems, and translations by the author of the Satyrs upon the Jesuits.

THE ODE OF Aristotle in Athenaeus, PARAPHRAS'D.

I.

HOnour! thou greatest Blessing in the gift of Heaven, Which only art to its chief Darlings given: Cheaply with Blood and Dangers art thou sought, Nor canst at any rate be over-bought. Thou, shining Honor, art the noblest chase Of all the braver part of Human Race:

Thou only art worth living for below, And only worth our dying too. For thee, bright Goddess, for thy charming sake, Does Greece such wond'rous Actions undertake: For thee no Toils, nor Hardships she forgoes, And Death amidst ten thousand ghastly Terrors wooes. So powerfully do'st thou the mind inspire, And kindlest there so generous a fire, As makes thy zealous Votaries All things, but Thee despise; Makes them the love of Thee prefer Before th' enchantments of bewitching Gold, Before th' embraces of a Parent's arms, Before soft ease, and Love's enticing Charms, And all, that Men on Earth most valuable hold.

II.

For Thee the Heav'n-born Hercules And Leda's faithful Twins, in Birth no less,

So many mighty Labours underwent, And by their God-like Deeds proclaim'd their high Descent. By thee they reach'd the blest Abode, The worthy Prize, for which in Glory's paths they trod. By thee great Ajax, and the greater Son Of Peleus were exalted to Renown: Envied by the Immortals did they go, Laden with triumph to the shades below. For thee, and thy dear sake Did the young Hermias worthy of Atarna lately slake His Life in Battel to the chance of Fate, And bravely lost, what he so boldly set: Yet lost he not his glorious aim, But by short Death purchas'd eternal Fame: The grateful Muses shall embalm his Memory, And never let it die: They shall his great Exploits rehearse, And consecrate the Hero in immortal Verse.