Creator Venus, genial power of love,
The bliss of men below, and gods above!
Beneath the sliding sun thou runn'st thy race,
Dost fairest shine, and best become thy place;
For thee the winds their eastern blasts forbear,
Thy mouth reveals the spring, and opens all the year;
Thee, goddess, thee, the storms of winter fly,
Earth smiles with flowers renewing, laughs the sky.
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I, Phoebus, sang those songs that gained so much renown
I, Phoebus, sang them; Homer only wrote them down.
I, Phoebus, sang those songs that gained so much renown
I, Phoebus, sang them; Homer only wrote them down.
Speak of the gods as they are.
Speak of the gods as they are.
With ravish'd ears
The monarch hears,
Assumes the god,
Affects to nod,
read more
With ravish'd ears
The monarch hears,
Assumes the god,
Affects to nod,
And seems to shake the spheres.
There's a one-eyed yellow idol to the north of Khatmandu,
There's a little marble cross below the town,
read more
There's a one-eyed yellow idol to the north of Khatmandu,
There's a little marble cross below the town,
There's a broken-hearted woman tends the grave of Mad Carew,
And the yellow god forever gazes down.
Ye immortal gods! where in the world are we?
[Lat., O dii immortales! ubinam gentium sumus?]
Ye immortal gods! where in the world are we?
[Lat., O dii immortales! ubinam gentium sumus?]
And when they heard these sayings, they were full of wrath, and
cried out, saying, Great is Diana of read more
And when they heard these sayings, they were full of wrath, and
cried out, saying, Great is Diana of the Ephesians.
Though men determine, the gods doo dispose: and oft times many
things fall out betweene the cup and the read more
Though men determine, the gods doo dispose: and oft times many
things fall out betweene the cup and the lip.
Some thoughtlessly proclaim the Muses nine:
A tenth is Sappho, maid divine.
Some thoughtlessly proclaim the Muses nine:
A tenth is Sappho, maid divine.
The confounding of all right and wrong, in wild fury, has averted
from us the gracious favor of the read more
The confounding of all right and wrong, in wild fury, has averted
from us the gracious favor of the gods.
[Lat., Omnia fanda, nefanda, malo permista furore,
Justificam nobis mentem avertere deorum.]
