TO APOLLO AND DIANA.

PHŒBUS, and Dian, forest queen,
Heaven's chiefest light sublime,

Ye, who high-worshipp'd evermore have been,
And shall high-worshipp'd be forevermore,
Fulfil the prayers, which at this sacred time
To you we pour;

This time, when, prompted by the Sybil's lays,
Virgins elect, and spotless youths unite
To the Immortal Gods a hymn to raise
Who in the seven-hill'd City take delight!

Benignant sun, who with thy car of flame
Bring'st on the day,

And takest it away,

And still art born anew,
Another, yet the same,

In all thy wanderings may'st thou nothing view,
That mightier is than Rome,

The

empress of the world, our mother, and our home!

O Ilithyia, of our matrons be

The guardian and the stay,

And as thine office is, unto the child

Who in the womb hath reach'd maturity,

Gently unbar the way,

Whether Lucina thou wouldst rather be,
Or Genitalis styled!

Our children, goddess, rear in strength and health, And with thy blessing crown

The Senate's late decree,

The nuptial law, that of our dearest wealth
The fruitful source shalt be,

A vigorous race, who to posterity

Shall hand our glory, and our honours down!
So, as the circling years, ten-times eleven,

Shall bring once more this season round,
Once more our hymns shall sound,

Once more our solemn festival be given, Through three glad days, devoted to thy rites, Three joyous days, and three not less delightsome nights!

And you, ye Sister Fates,

Who truly do fulfil

What doom soever, by your breath decreed,
In the long vista of the future waits,

As ye have ever made our fortunes speed,
Be gracious to us still!

And oh! may Earth, which plenteous increase bears Of fruits, and corn, and wine,

A stately coronal for Ceres twine

Of the wheat's golden shocks,

And healthful waters and salubrious airs
Nourish the yeanling flocks!

Aside thy weapons laid, Apollo, hear
With gracious ear serene

The suppliant youths, who now entreat thy boon!
And thou, of the constellations queen,
Two-horned Moon,

To the young maids give ear!

If Rome be all thy work, if Trojan bands
Upon the Etruscan shore have won renown,

That chosen remnant, who at thy commands Forsook their hearths, and homes, and native

town;

If all unscathed through Ilion's flames they sped By sage Æneas led,

And o'er the ocean-waves in safety fled,

Destined from him, though of his home bereft, A nobler dower to take, than all that they had left!

Ye powers divine,

Unto our docile youth give morals pure!
Ye powers divine,

To placid age give peace,

And to the stock of Romulus ensure

Dominion vast, a never failing line,

And in all noble things still make them to increase !

And oh may he who now

To you with milk-white steers uplifts his pray'r,
Within whose veins doth flow

Renown'd Anchises' blood, and Venus' ever fair,
Be still in war supreme, yet still the foe
His sword hath humbled spare!

Now, even now the Mede

Our hosts omnipotent by land and sea,
And Alban axes fears; the Scythians, late
So vaunting, and the hordes of Ind await,
On low expectant knee,

What terms soe'er we may be minded to concede.
Now Faith, and Peace, and Honour, and the old
Primeval Shame, and Worth long held in scorn,
To reappear make bold,

And blissful Plenty, with her teeming horn,
Doth all her smiles unfold.

And oh! may He, the Seer divine,

God of the fulgent bow,

Phoebus, beloved of the Muses nine,
Who for the body rack'd and worn with woe
By arts remedial finds an anodyne,
If he with no unloving eye doth view
The crested heights and halls of Palatine,
On to a lustre new

Prolong the weal of Rome, the blest Estate

Of Latium, and on them, long ages through, Still growing honours, still new joys accumulate!

And may She, too, who makes her haunt
On Aventine and Algidus alway,
May She, Diana, grant

The pray'rs, which duly here
The Fifteen Men upon this festal day
To her devoutly send,

And to the youths' pure adjurations lend
No unpropitious ear!

Now homeward we repair,

Full of the blessèd hope, that will not fail, That Jove and all the Gods have heard our pray'r, And with approving smiles our homage hail, We skill'd in choral harmonies to raise

The hymn to Phoebus and Diana's praise.

NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS.