Publ [sic] Ovid. De tristibus: or Mour nefull [sic] elegies in five bookes: composed in his banishment, part at sea, and part at Tomos, a city of Pontus. Translated into English verse by Zachary Catlin, Mr. of Arts. Suffolke.

ELEGIE. 4.

He sues to Bacchus here, [Argu.] that he would please To move Augustus for his speedy ease.

BAccbus, this is the day, when Poets use To honour thee (I tak't) with cheerefull muse. With garlands sweete, their Temples they surround, And midst thy bowles of wine thy prayses sound. Mong these, while Fortune sufferd, I was one, A welcome part of thy devotion, Who now remaine ith' cold Sarmatian land, Which nigh the Getes, unto the Beare doth stand. And I who erst from labour did retire,Line 10 To softer studies and the Muses quire, Now far from home, with Geticke swords a•••• vext. Having beene sore by sea and land perplext. Whether these ills Ioves wreth or chance send downe. Or ••••a•• the dest ••ies as my birth did frowne.

Yet thou thy Poet still shouldst have sustaind, By whom the sacred Ivy is maintaind, But what those fatall sisters once agree, It secmes no god can change their firme decree. Thy merits Bacchus did thy place obtaine In heaven, and made thy passage thorow paine. Thou left'st thy native Country, and from homeLine 20 To snowy 1 Strimon, and fierce Getes didst come To Persia too, and spacious Ganges brinke, And all those streames, which swarthy Indians drink. It seemes those powres which fatall threds doe draw, To thee 2 twise borne, twise sung this fatall law. So crabbed Fortune still hath followed me, If to a god I may resembled be. And cast me headlong with his deadly fall, 3 Whom Iove for pride, did hurle from Theban wall. Yet when thou heard'st how I was thunderstrooke,Line 30 Thy heart, no doubt with 4 Son-like pitty shooke. And looking ore thy Poets too, mightst say, One of my servants is not here to day. Good Bacchus helpe: so may thy fruitefull Vine, Burden her Elme with Gropes of precious wine, So may the Bacchae with young Satyres-fry, Attend thine hests with their confused cry. So ma 5 Licurgus bones be sorely prest, And 6 Pe••theus Ghost from torment never rest,Line 40 So may thy 7 Wives faire crowne shine ever bright, Excelling all her neighbouring starres in light. Come hither Bacchus, helpe my wofull state, Remembring I was one of thine of late. To gentle mildne sle Coesars heart incline, For sure you gods in sweete commerce combine. And you my Fellow-Poets friendly crue For me, amid your cups this Prayer renue. And some of you, when Nasots name he heares,Line 50 Set downe your bowle, mixed with friendly teares, And looking round about on's fellowes, say, VVheres he was one oth' Quorum th'other day? Thus ••oe, if ever I deserv'd your love,

And did with candour all your lines approve. And giving th' ancient Poets honour due, Yet thinke them fully equald by the new. At least, retaine amongst you Naso's name, So thill Apollo still your verses frame.

Notes

• 1

  A River twi••t Macedon and Thrace.
• 2

  O••••e of Se∣••••le, once of Lover Hugh.
• 3

  Ca••ancus in∣v••nt our of 〈◊〉〈◊〉 laddate
• 4

  Hi•• mother Semile was stainn by Thunder, lying with Iupiter.
• 5

  There two hate•• drunken∣cesse.
• 6

  M••••d•••••• Crowne, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 a 〈◊〉〈◊〉 of stars.