The Iliads of Homer

The Iliads of Homer - Translated according to the Greek

Thy tomb, arms, statue, all things fit to fall At foot of Death, and worship funeral, Form hath bestowd; for form is nought too dear. Thy solid virtues yet, eternizd here, My blood and wasted spirits have only found Commanded cost, and broke so rich a ground, Not to inter, but make thee ever spring, As arms, tombs, statues, evry earthy thing, Shall fade aid vanish into fume before. What lasts thrives least; yet wealth of soul is poor, And so tis kept. Not thy thrice-sacred will, Signd with thy death, moves any to fulfil Thy just bequests to me. Thou dead, then I Live dead, for giving thee eternity. Since perfect happiness, by Princes sought, Is not with birth born, nor exchequers bought, Nor follows in great trains, nor is possest With any outward state, but makes him blest That governs inward, and beholdeth there All his affections stand about him bare, That by his powr can send to Tower and death All traitorous passions, marshalling beneath His justice his mere will, and in his mind Holds such a sceptre as can keep confind His whole lifes actions in the royal bounds Of virtue and religion, and their grounds Takes in to sow his honours, his delights, And cmplete empire; you should learn these rights, Great Prince of men, by princely precedents, Which here, in all kinds, my true zeal presents To furnish your youths groundwork and first state, And let you see one godlike man create All sorts of worthiest men, to be contrivd In your worth only, giving him revivd For whose life Alexander would have givn One of his kingdoms; who (as sent from heavn, And thinking well that so divine a creature Would never more enrich the race of nature) Kept as his crown his works, and thought them still His angels, in all powr to rule his will; And would affirm that Homers poesy Did more advance his Asian victory, Than all his armies. O! tis wondrous much, Though nothing prizd, that the right virtuous touch Of a well-written soul to virtue moves; Nor have we souls to purpose, if their loves Of fitting objects be not so inflamd. How much then were this kingdoms main soul maimd, To want this great inflamer of all powrs That move in human souls! All realms but yours Are honourd with him, and hold blest that state That have his works to read and contemplate: In which humanity to her height is raisd, Which all the world, yet none enough, hath praisd; Seas, earth, and heavn, he did in verse comprise, Out-sung the Muses, and did equalize Their king Apollo; being so far from cause Of Princes light thoughts, that their gravest laws May find stuff to be fashiond by his lines. Through all the pomp of kingdoms still he shines, And graceth all his gracers. Then let lie Your lutes and viols, and more loftily Make the heroics of your Homer sung, To drums and trumpets set his angels tongue, And, with the princely sport of hawks you use, Behold the kingly flight of his high muse, And see how, like the phnix, she renews Her age and starry feathers in your sun, Thousands of years attending evry one Blowing the holy fire, and throwing in Their seasons, kingdoms, nations, that have been Subverted in them; laws, religions, all Offerd to change and greedy funeral; Yet still your Homer, lasting, living, reigning, And proves how firm truth builds in poets feigning. ......Buy Now (To Read More)

Product details

Ebook Number: 51355
Author: Homer, 750? BCE-650? BCE
Release Date: Mar 4, 2016
Format: eBook
Language: English

Contributors

Translator: Chapman, George, 1559?-1634