The Lithica by (pseudo)Orpheus

A GIFT to mortals from protecting Jove,
The son of Maia brings me from above,
By Jove's command, to teach to all below
A sure remede against each earthly woe.
Hear it with joy! this to the wise I say,
Whose heart is right, and who the gods obey;
For the profane, in their own folly blind,
Heaven suffers not this remedy to find.
Rejoicing in this boon in times on yore,
Phoebus his son up to the immortals bore,
And led the healing god to where on high
Olympus rears his snows amid the sky.
Where, too, the Athenian goddess, Pallas chaste,
Alicides, savior of the nations placed.
Taught by such lore, great Chiron scaled the walls
Of lofty heaven, and burst into its halls.
All these, of demi-gods the first and best,
Joyous received the mansions of the blest;
But us, the god who bears the golden wand,
To dwell in peace contented doth command;
Enjoying wealth, in its prossession sure,
Through his kind care, from every ill secure.-
Whatever mortal his bold heart impells
To seek the mystic cave where Hermes dwells,
That mystic cave where the wise god a hoard
Of all things good hath in his treasure stored,
He shall return, and bear in both his hands
A heap of blessings numerous as the sands:
No care, no sorrow shall he ever taste,
Nor pining sickness his strong body waste;
Nor, dreading his foes' might, from battle flee,
Abandoning the hope of victory:
Nor in the games when he disputes the prize
Shale e'er opponents dare 'gainst him to rise;
Though limbs of brass, though souls of iron they bring,
All burning for the crown, into the ring;
By mountain herds as the dread lion feared,
And by his fellows as a god revered;
In regal courts he honor shall command
and 'mid the people of each foreign land.
Him lovely youths with all their tender charms
Shall seek to clasp within their longing arms;
And the soft maid, by love's strong impulse led,
Shall gently draw towards the golden bed;
His prayers shell ever reach the Immortals' ear,
Nor angry seas nor tempests shall he fear;
But tread with feet unwetted o'er the sea:
Him, though alone, shall savage robbers flee.
In him his servants shall a father view,
And love their master's house with reverence due;
He shall at will the hidden thoughts perceive,
Which others in their inmost hearts conceive;
And what the birds, the inmates of the sky,
Amongst themselves, unknown to mortals cry;
Those winged interpreters of heaven's decrees,
Aye chanting forth their mystic melodies.
He lears the dragon's rushing force to break,
And quench the venom of the crawling snake;
The man dashed to the ground in that dire hour
When reels his brain 'neath Luna's baleful power,
I'll teach his cure, and how the pest to tame,
That from the elephant derives its name;
And how to ban by spells the dead man's ghost,
Sent back to day from Pluto's gloomy coast.
A thousand other blessings heaped on high,
Stored in the cave of skilful Hermes lie;
Immortal, true, of wondrous potency,
Who so attains a happy man is he!
The guardian god who Argus slew of yore,
Hath me ordained to teach this mystic lore,
And from my breast, which he himself constrains,
Pour forth his precepts in multifluous strains.-
But small their number they who seek to learn;
Presumptuous mortals ancient wisdom spurn,
If from afar bright Virtue to them cries,
(Mother of heroes) they her call despise:
All fly like cowards, in hot haste they run,
All, labour, life-preserving labour, shun;
No happiness upon their dwellings shines,
No heart to serve th'immortal gods inclines;
But like to brutes senseless, untaught, they lie,
No heaven-born wisdom doth their need supply;
Nor seek they refuge in the god of light,
Nor pray his holy aid to heal their plight;
No glorious deeds the grovelling wretches know,
To cast a lustre on their state of woe;
Their souls enveloped in her thickest clouds,
Impenetrable Darkness ever shrouds
With envious hindrance, lest their steps proceed
To tread the paths of Virtue's flowery mead;
But her the wretches from their cities chase,
And scorn the helper of the human race.
Partner with heroes in their high emprize,
A cruel death the poet-prophet dies;
And hated is the man, and fear'd by all,
Whom people by the name magician call:
The god-like seer beneath the sword unjust,
His head struck off, lies out-stretch'd in the dust.-
But I to those who my behests obey,
Will treasure far above all gold convey:
A man I seek endowed with patient mind,
And full of zeal, to toil with me inclined;
Eager to learn, and willing to be taught,
For all success must be with labour bought.
To words or deeds that no hard labour own,
High-thundering Jove ne'er grands the victor's crown.
With grievous toil yoked to his fiery car,
His steeds bear Phoebus through the fields of air,
And all exhausted by his upward way,
Glad to his Western goal conduct the Day.-
Far better, converse with the wise to hold,
Than countless treasures of all-powerful gold;
One morn as towards the fields (an annual rite)
I bore my offereings to the god of light
I met Theodamas, that seer renowned,
Home to the city from the country bound.
I grasp his hand, and thus the sage address:-
"Tarry to-day, if no great business press,
To-morrow the city wend thy way:
Now, celebrate with me the festal day.
To meet like this sure heav'n hath been thy guide,
Therefore my friend to follow me decide;
And with me to the sacred rites repair,
Which virtuous men with holy hands prepare;
It specially the powers divine delights,
When good men celebrate their sacred rites.
No distant journey, for thou see'st me bound
On my own land towards yon rising mound
Where once in childhood I had strayed alone
In search of quails which from my charge had flown:
As I approached, each playful favorite tame
Stopped when I called it by its well-known name;
But as I stretched my hand the prize to clasp,
The wanton vanished from my eager grasp;
In my hot haste I tumble on my face,
But up again, and still pursue the chase.
But as they reach the summit of the hill
The startled fowles send forth a piping shrill,
And swifter than a dart or arrow's flight
Upon a lofty beech the pair alight.
For they had marked in time a deadly snake,
With open jaws forth issuing from the brake,
Unseen approaching by my careless eyes,
Fixed too intently on my longed-for prize.
At last I mark him raising from the ground,
His head prepared to strike the deadly wound;
Whoever then had viewed my mad career,
As down the slope I dashed in panic fear,
Had sure not deepmed me of my quails in chase,
Nor boyish, limbs that drove so wild a pace;
An eagle's wings my terror would demand,
Or swiftest winds: grim death was close at hand.
Full often as the breeze them backwards bore,
His pointed fangs my floating garments tore;
And sure, before my fated period came,
The monster had devoured my tender frame
Had not I sprung upon an altar hoar,
Raised to bright Phoebus in the days of yore,
Where lay, spared by the flames that round had sunk,
The half-burnt fragment of an olive's trunk:
I grasp the massy weapon as it lay,
Face my pursuer, and so stand at bay;
Spying resistance he with fury burns,
And in thick wreaths his supple body turns;
His scaly volumes, bright as polished steel,
Fold upon fold are piled in many a wheel;
His glistening fangs above the altar rise,
His horrid hissings drown my feeble cries:
With all my force full on his head I struck,
The half-burnt club in thousand shivers broke;
But yet, for favouring fate did not ordain,
That I should sink by this fell monster slain,
Two sturdy hounds, that watched my father's flocks,
Spread o'er the plain whence rise yon towering rocks:
They year my voice, and to my rescue come,
For I had oft caressed them at my home.
On them he turned; I leaping to the ground
In hasty flight a place of refuge found:
As 'scaped the eagle's talons in mid-air,
'Midst tangled thickets lurks the rightened hare,
So mingling with the flocks I crouched beneath,
And 'mid their numbers shunned the glance of death.
Whilst my good father lived, he year by year
Up to the guardian altar brought a steer,
An offering to the Sun, of grateful joy,
To pay the ransom of his rescued boy;
So now the choicest of the herd I bring,
A fatted calf, the firstling of the spring;
And mount the hill, steep rising from the plain,
In due procession with a friendly train;
The trusty hounds that slew the crested snake,
A willing part in the procession take.
Around the altar of the king of light,
A thousand charms arise in beauty bright:
A verdant plalin, with herbage soft o'erspread,
Where shaggy elms afford a grateful shade,
Where 'neath a rock an ever-flowing spring
With bubbling melody doth sweetly sing.
Come then, my friend, enjoy the present time,
Tos slight the sacred banquet were a crime."
I spoke; the hoary sage this answer gave:
"May the great god of day thee ever save,
Avert all sorrow, guide they way to wealth,
banish all tears, maintain in perfect health,
For this thy love: I, too, as best I may,
Will in some sort thy kindliness repay,
And teach the means, shouldst thou an offering bear,
To force the gods to hearken to they prayer.-
Take in thy pious hand the Crystal bright,
Transparent image of the Eternal Light.
Pleased with its lustre, every god shall hear
Thy vows with favour and concede thy prayer.
But how to test the virtue of the stone,
A certain way I will to thee make known:
Without fire's aid to raise the flame divine,
This wondrous gem lay though on splintered pine:
Forthwith, reflecting the bright orb of day,
Upon the wood it shoots a slender ray,
Caught by the uncuous fuel this shall raise
First smoke, then sparks, and last a mighty blaze.
Such we the fire of ancient Vesta name,
Loved by the immortals all, a holy flame;
No fire terrestrial with such grateful fumes,
The fatted victim on their hearths consumes.
Yet though the fire the source, strange to be told,
Snatch from the flame the stone-'tis icy cold!
Girt round his loins with this, the sufferer gains
A sure sure relief from all nephritic pains.-
Another gem, to aid thee in thy vows
Of mighty force my mystic science shows:
As teats of heifers with strange milk replete,
Or teeming breasts of of youthful mothers sweet,
This potent stone, by sages old extolled,
Resistless Adamant is rightly called;
For that it bends the powers who rule the sky,
To view men's offerings with propitious eye.
The tital of Lethoean too it bears,
Making both gods and men forget their cares.
With influence bland, it soothes the soul to rest,
And rouses pleasant thoughts in the human breast.
But some the term of Adamant disclaim,
And say that Milkstone is the fitter name:
For if thou rub the stone, then trickling slow,
A milky fluid from its pores shall flow.
Of this thou mayest another profe espye
If e'er the udders of they ewes run dry;
What canst thou do thy tender flocks to save,
Which erst a refuge from the monster gave?
When pinched with hunger, crowding round thy feet,
Within the fold their piteous tale they bleat?
They sickly ewes then bid thy shepherds lave
In the dark pools where sleeps the fountain-wave.
Next,, ranged in order 'gainst the rising sun,
With fitting rite thus purify each one:
Take in thine hand a goblet filled with brine,
Mixed with this stone reduced to powder fine;
Thy sheep and goats then carefully go through,
Sprinkling their fleeces with the lustral dew:
Straightway the mothers, of their sickness healed,
To their glad young shall milk abundant yield,
And playful once again the happy lambs
In sportive gambols frisk around their dams.
And bid the bride, but late a mother made,
To drink this gem with honied mead allayed,
That her sweet infant on her flowing breast,
Drunk with the copious stream, may soundly rest.
Hang this, O nurse, about thy charge's neck;
The potent gem the Evil Eye shall check.
Whilst on your hand this virtuous stone you wear,
Kings shall respect, and nations shall revere;
The immortal gods, obedient to your will,
Shall hear your vows, and your desires fulfil.-
Pray with the flowered Petraces in thine hand,
When hecatombs before the altar stand.-
Carrying the Tree-Stone with thee to the shrine,
Thou shalt propitiate each power divine.
The gem the semblance of a garden shows,
Where growing trees entwine their leafy boughs;
Hence a fit title bears it with the wise,
Who the Tree-Agate as a treasure prize:
One part displays the perfect Agate-stone,
In one a shaggy growve is plainly shown.
Tied to their horns let this thine oxen bear,
While turning up they furrows with the share,
And bid thy ploughman wear the potent charm,
Securely fastened round his sturdy arm;
Then wheat-crowned Ceres shall thy vows attend,
And with full lap upon thy fields descend.-
Shouldst thou by chance the wondrous Stagshorn find,
Draw near the altar with undoubting mind;
For the pleased gods, with admiration due,
Creative Nature's strange production view.
A real stone in the stag's brain it grows,
Not like the branching antlers, on his brows;
Yet solely by the touch can it be known
To be not horn, but hard and real stone.
If time hath thinned thy locks, its force shall spread
A youthful covering o'er thine aged head:
With this in oil dissolved anoint, and lo!
Fresh honours on thy barren scalp shall grow.
Wear this, O youth, when to thy nuptial bed
For the first time the blushing bride is led;
Wear it as witness of thine amourous play;
Then concord sweet shall crown each future day,
And to old age, unbroken shall endure
The marriage-bond against all change secure.-
Dear to Jove's son is the next gem I sing,
Lord of the herd, the ivy-crowned king!
Of barbarous name, washed on those Syrian shores
Where his resounding waves Eurphrates pours.
Well pleased with this when to the favouring skies,
For thy vines' sake thy fuming offerings rise,
With clusters huge he shall thy vineyard dress,
And floods of must gush from the labouring press.-
The gods propitious hearken to his prayers,
Whoe'er the polished grass-green Jasper wears.
His parched globe they'll satiate with rain,
And send fat showers to soak the thirsty plain.-
Turn, Lychnis! from our fields the dashing hail,
And all what pests the growing crops assail.
Dear to the gods, thou canst the sacred blaze
Like to the crystal on their altars raise.
A stranger virtue yet this gem shall show,
When leaping flames round the full cauldron glow,
Cast in the stone: still cold the brazen urn,
Though with full force the fire beneath it burn;
But if the same on embers cold you set,
The bubbling waters in the vessel fret.
The self-same power the sacrificial tribe
Unto the glass-like Peridot ascribe.-
With its complexion of a lovely boy,
The Opal fills the hearts of gods with joy;
Whilst by the mild effulgence of its light,
Its healing power restores the failing sight.-
Mix myrrh, strong Opsian, tears distilled from pine,
With flakes of Talc that like to silver shine;
This shall reveal whate'er men seek to know,
And omens give of coming weal or woe.
The flakey talc doth also drive away
All ailments sore that on the sinews prey.-
Two gems, they teach are sacred to the sun,
Alike divine and wonderful each one;
In each reflected Sol's bright rays appear,
Ranged in straight lines like his wide-streaming hair;
In look diverse: one as the Crystal bright,
The other verges on the Chrysolite,
But for its rays a Chrysolite it were:
The self-same virtues in the two appear,
A mighty spirit Phoebus hath inspired
Within the gems by his own radiance fired;
For all who this great boon shall wisely wear,
Noble their port, and dignified their air;
Heroic magesty their form displays;
The people look and wonder as they gaze.
They that tranquility with courage join,
Shall best propitiate the powers divine.-
Above all gems, fierce Mars the Loadstone loves,
For eagerly to meet the steel it moves:
As the fond maiden, bright in youthful charms,
Strains the loved youth within her longing arms,
So tight the loadstone in its eager grasp,
Holds the loved steel, reluctant to unclasp.
Circe, they say, with magic lore imbued,
Armed with this stone her potent philtres brewed.
AEetes' daughter loved the loadstone too;
That crafty witch who her own children slew.
If e'er thou wish thy spouse's truth to prove,
If pure she hat kept her from adulterous love,
Within thy bed unseen this stone bestow,
Muttering a soothing spell in whispers low:
Though wrapped in slumber deep, if pure and chaste,
She'll seek to strain thee to her loving breast;
But if polluted by adultery found,
Hurled from the couch she tumbles on the ground.
And if two brothers shall a loadstone wear,
Free from all strife abide the friendly pair.
And when the crowds towards the forum roll,
With words persuasive shalt thou melt the soul.
Why needs it more its numerous virtues praise,
When e'en the immortal gods its influence sways,
So that with softened hearts the powers above,
Grant all thy wishes with a parent's love?-
Soon will we prove the virtues that I teach,
When we the altar of thy saviour reach,
For yonder slave, companion of my road,
On his broad shoulders bears an ample load.
But since, undone our journey's greater part,
Fear of the monster fills thy beating heart,
Attend whilst I an antidote declare,
No more the trailing serpent's tooth to fear.
Let him who by the dragon's fang hath bled,
On the dire wound Serpentine powdered spread,
And in the stone his sure reliance place,
For wounds inflicted by the reptiile race.
The Ostrites mixed with wine affords again
A quick relief to cool their 'iery pain.-
The sacred stone that from the viper came,
Well known to leeches by the Viper's name,
Aided by which, divine Machaon's art
Cured of the rankling wound the nine years' smart,
When the despairing hero now no more
Hoped for deliverance from the festering sore:
But taught its virtues by his sire on high,
With this he healed the bold Poeantian's thigh,
And sent him forth rejoicing on his way
To Troy the Phrygian ravisher to slay.
Pierced by his shaft, scarce Paris self believed
That he his death from Philoctete received;
Nor deemed the hero from the Lemnian shore,
With limbs restored, had hastened to the war.
Thus the Poentean the seducer slew;
But more his fate to Helenus was due,
Who taught the Greeks to bring, O treachery vile!
His brother's slayer from the lonely isle.
To him had Phoebus given the vocal stone,
Hight Suleritis, for true answers known;
The living Ophite some the wonder call,
Black, round, and ponderous, a portentous ball;
Around its face, in many a mazy bend,
Like wrinkles deep the graven furrows trend.
For thrice seven days the mighty wizard fled
The bath's refreshment and his consort's bed;
For thrice seven days a solemn fast maintained,
Nor flesh of living thing his strength sustained.
Then in the living fount the gem he laves,
And in soft garments like an infant swathes,
As to a god, he sacrifices brings,
And potent spells in mystic murmurs sings,
Till moved by fervent prayer and mighty charms,
A living soul the prescient substance warms,
Then in his hands he bears the thing divine
Where kindled lamps in his pure mansion shine,
And as her infant son a mother holds,
Son in his arms the talisman he folds.
And thou, if thou wouldst hear the mystic voice,
Thus do, and in the wondrous thing rejoice:
For when thou long has dandled it on high,
'Twill utter forth a faint and feeble cry,
Like to a suckling's wail when roused from rest,
It seeks refreshment from the nurse's breast.
But with courageous heart perform the rite,
Lest thou the anger of the gods excite,
If from thy hand, unnerved by panic fear,
Down to the ground thou dash the magic sphere,
Be bold, and dare the oracle to test,
A true response 'twill yield to each request;
Then having bathed it, hold it to thine eye,
And mark in wondrous guise its spirit fly.
Through this the Trojan to the Atridae hold,
The coming downfall of his race foretold.
Another virtue hath the stone, 'tis sead,
Since thou still tremblest at the serpent dread:
Far greater fear, ne'er slumbering day or night,
Had Philoctetes of the viper's bite:
Hence he sage Priam's son with prayers pursues,
Falls at his feet, and low for counsel sues,
To teach some charm that far away should chase,
Whene'er he reached his home, the reptiel race.
Touched by his prayer, the wizard high reveals
The sought for antitdote, nor ought conceals,
Invokes Apollo witness of his truth,
And gives these precepts to the suppliant youth:
"The god of oracles with radiant hair,
From whom these gifts of prophecy I bear,
First on my youth a solemn oath imposed,
Ere he the science deep to me disclosed,
Never to man a false response to make;
Therefore with fullest truth my answer take,
And list, O lord of the unerring bow,
The wondrous lore that I prepare to show.
For all the pests that out of the earth arise,
The earth's ownself the antidote supplies;
She breeds the viper, but she to the sage
The means present to quell the viper's rage.
All kinds of gems spring from her bosom wide,
And hapless mortals with sure help provide;
For all what virtues potent herbs possess,
Gems in their kind have, nor in measure less;
Great is the force of herbs, but greater far
The virtues that in stones inherent are;
For in the stone implanted mother earth
Eternal force, unfading, at its birth.
Short-lived the herb, it quickly fades away,
And but in life its potency bears sway;
When past its prime, it dry and withered lies;
And what help find we in a thing that dies?
Plants as the source of death and health we own,
But scarce canst thou find mischief in a stone.
As numerous as the flowers spring from the ground,
So many gems are in earth's bosom found.
Midst serpents then, with Sideritis armed,
Securely walk, against all danger charmed.
What though their swarming hosts around the roll,
No thought of peril need disturb thy soul;
Awed by the spell they fear their fangs to use,
Though with bare feet their scaly coils thou bruise.
With wonder filled, at thine approach they fly,
Nor dare to face the terrors of thine eye;
E'en those at first prepared at thee to leap,
Fall to the ground and tamely backward creep:
The potent spell their headlong fury checks,
They stop and elevate their gilded necks;
And to their lord in tame submission drawn,
With forked tongues, like doges they on thee fawn.
The hunter-boy, confiding in its aid,
In Ida's thicket oft securely laid,
Euphorbus 'mid the speckled dragon's brood,
Uninjured slept, though thirsting for men's blood.
For to his prayer the sacred stone I gave,
And ne'er a serpent dared his glance to brave.
Brave Melanippus loved his beauty bright,
And in his presence found his sole delight;
My cousin he, himself of graceful mould,
But yet his worth his beauty's praise out-told,
Following the fair-haired youth with constant love,
Never without him in the chase he'd rove;
But o'er the mountains still with train and hound,
He tracked the game in many a devious round:
Full often longed great Icetaon's son,
To follow his loved comrade all alone.
Him oft his father checked with anxious care,
Dreading the perils of the sylvan war,
And often royal Priam would detain
The ardent youth, but still had tried in vain;
For who would live deserted at the court,
And leave Euphorbus to his woodland sport?
Yet soon a serpent checked the impetuous youth,
Piercing his ankle with envenomed tooth.
The hero, conscious of the deadly wound,
Keener than death the pain of parting found;
Pron at my knees for aid to me he prays;
I pity, and the wounded hunter raise,
And bid him take, to finest powder ground,
This stone, and sprinkle on the burning wound,
Instant the deadly venom quits his veins,
And the glad youth his former strength regains.
Such are the virtues of the Mountain-stone,
As sure relief to wounded heroes shown,
Makes too the baren woman to conceive:
The gods for mortals all things can achieve.
Such rules the wise Abarbereia taught
(My mother she), with healing science fraught,-
Euphorbus sings the Serpentine is good,
Not merely 'gainst the serpent's scaly brood,
But hence the darkling eye new light obtains,
And from the head it drives the heavy pains.
Aided by this he healed the deafened ear,
And gave it power the lightest sound to hear.
The unhappy youth on whom hath Venus frowned,
All impotent for love's sweet pleasures found,
Strengthened by this renews his former fires,
And feels his veins inflamed with fresh desires.
Its fumes in burning reptiles chase away,
Though hid in holes they shun the light of day.
Such flee, when Jet in rising clouds consumes,
The nose provoking with its pungent fumes.
Black as a coal, but yet of lustrous shine,
It blases up like torch of driest pine;
But strange its influence on the human brain,
Nor can the wretch disguise his hidden pain,
From whom the dire disease we seek to purge,
Sent down from heaven the human race to scourge.
Soon as his nostrils feel the potent smoke,
Headlong he falls as from the lightning's stroke,
Covered with foam, in fierce convuslions bound,
He rolls and writhes and struggles on the ground;
Malignant Luna, tyrant of his brain,
Surveys his torture and enjoys his pain.
But if a woman o'er its vapours bend
And catch the healing fumes as they ascend,
Long pent within by circulation slow,
At last dissolved the noxious humours flow;
She marks the flux, and conscious of release,
Departs exulting, 'scaped the fell disease.
Yet other virtues to the stone are lent,
But with its power o'er snakes thou'lt be content.-
Named from the scorpion dire, the virtuous stone
To huge Orion was, I ween, unknown
Else had he, tortured by its fiery pain,
Paid all his stars the remedy to gain.
Nor yet the gem he knew that quells the smart
Of scorpion, archer armed with deathful dart,
For, mixed with garlic's juice, 'twill surely chase
From their deep lurking holes the poisonous race;
Like to the human head in shape it grows,
And mixed with sharpest wine its virtue shows.
This medicine e'en the venomed asp can quell,
The asp, sure minister of gloomy hell!
To cure the throat, grind this with fragrant oil
From roses pressed and mixed with beastings boil;
Mingled with honey 'twill the mass dispel
Of watery humours which the belly swell,
Or which, descending from their proper place,
With an unseemly load the groin disgrace.-
The Coral too, in Perseus' story named,
Against the scorpion is of might proclaimed.
This also a sure remedy shall bring
For murderous asp, and blunt his fateful sting.
Above all gems in potency 'tis raised
By bright-haired Phoebus and its value praised;
For on its birth it shows a wondrous change;
True is the story, though thou'lt deem it strange;
At first a plant, it springs not from the ground,
The nurse of plants, but in the deep profound
Like a green shrub it lifts its flowery head
Mid weeds and mosses of old ocean's bed;
But when old age its withering stem invades,
Nipped by the brine, its verdant foliage fades,
It floats amid the wrack of sea-things tossed,
Till roaring waves expel it on the coast;
Then in the moment that it breathes the air,
They say who've seen it, that it hardens there,
Or as by frost congealed and solid grown
The plant is stiffened into perfect stone;
And in a moment in the finders hands,
Erst a soft branch, a flinty coral stands;
Yet still the shrub its pristine shape retains,
Still spread its branches, still its fruit remains,
The bark yet there though turned to stone we view,
And yet the root whence in the depths it grew.
A sweet delight to the beholder's eye,
My heart its aspect fills with speechless joy,
My longing gaze its beauty never tires,
But yet the prodigy with awe inspires;
Though to the legend I true credite give,
Scarce do I hope it credence will receive;
But yet to men, I ween, no lying fame
Hath sung the terrors of the Gorgon's name,
No idle tale the feat of Perseus, high
On airy wings careering through the sky,
Or how the hero slew 'neath Atlas' rocks
The dire Medusa tressed with snaky locks,
Monster invincible, with eyes of hell,
Fatal to all on whom her glances fell,
Who under that intolerable eye
To marble statue stiffen ere they die.
E'en Pallas self, indomitable Maid,
Shrunk from the terrors of that look, afraid,
And warned her brother of the golden glaive
To avert his eyes as he the death-blow gave.
Thus by a wile he won the monster's head,
And severed from the neck her serpent's dread,
And stealing from behind with noiseless wheel,
Drew round her throat the curved Cyllemal steel.
Though slain the Gorgon, yet her face remains,
And many yet were fated by the sight
The realms to enter of eternal night.
Dripping with blood the hero seeks the shore,
And, whilst he cleanses from his hands the gore,
Still warm, still quivering, lays his trophy down
On the green sea-plants all about him strown,
Whilst tired by toil and by his weary way
His libs he freshens in the cooling sea.
Pressed by the head the weeds around that lie
Soaked with the gore, grow drunk with sanguine dye,
The rushing breezes, daughters of the flood,
Upon their boughs congeal the clotted blood,
And so congeal, it seems, a real stone
Nor only seems; to real rock 'tis grown.
What though of softness every trace be reft,
To the dry plant its pristine shape is left.
Tinged by the blood that from her arteries flows,
No longer green, with blushing red it glows-
Struck with surprise the dauntless hero stares,
E'en wise Minerva his amazement shares,
And that her brother's fame may last for aye,
Gives power unfading to the coral spray
Ever its early nature thus to change:
She next endowed the plant with virtue strange,
And to its kind of lasting influence lent
To guard mankind on toilsome journeys bent,
Whether by land their wearly way they keep,
Or brave in ships the terrors of the deep-
Of furious Mars to 'scape the lightning sword,
Or murderous onslaught of the robber-horde.
When the vexed Nereus tosses all his waves
The potent Coral trembling sailors saves,
If they with vows the warlike blue-eyed Maid
Invoke, and claim in their distress her aid.
All drugs that poison, all the spells that bind,
All curses that relentless Furies mind,
The hid pollution that brings ruin down
Upon the house e'en to its lord unknown,
And all the ill wrought by enchantment dire
Against thy weal when envious men conspire,
For all these evils by benignant heaven
The Coral surest antidote is given.
Pound this and mix it when thou sowest thy grain,
It shall avert all mischief from the plain,
The drought which parches with destruction sere
The milky juices of the swelling ear;
The million darts which flung by driving hail
With hopeless wound thy growing crops assail;
Destructive insects too it scares away,
The caterpillar's troop, the worm's array,
The rust which falling on the corn from high
Reddens the ear and burns its substance dry,
The host of flies, the locust's countless swarms,
E'en Jove's red lightning from they field it charms,
Such honour pays he to the glorious deed
Of his great son, and grants the worthy mede.
And this returning from earth's furthest shore
His choicest gift to man sage Hermes bore.
But thou, still mindful of its virtue high,
Drink it in wine, and poisonous asps defy,-
Drink too the changeful Agate in thy wine,
Like different gems its numerous species shine,
The glass-green jasper oft its hue betrays,
The emerald's tint, the blood-red Sardian's blaze,
Sometimes vermilion, oft 'tis overspread
With copper dull or the early apple's red:
But best of all the sort whereon is spied
The tawny color of the lion's hide;
This kind by ancient demi-gods was famed,
And from its hue Leontoseres named,
All mottled o'er with thousand spots 'tis seen,
Some red, some white, some black, some grassy green,
If any groaning from the scorpion's dart
Should sue to thee to heal the venomed smart,
Bind on the wound or strew the powdered stone-
The pain shall vanish and its influence own.
Adorned with this, thou woman's heart shalt gain,
And by persuasion thy desire obtain;
And if of man though aught demand, shalt come
With all thy wish fulfilled rejoicing home.
Held in the hand, this may protection give
In dire disease, and bid the sick man live,
If yet the sovereign ruler of the sky
A longer span of life doth not deny;
But this thou knowest, that if his vital thread
Stern Clotho cuts, full sure his life sped.
When fiery tertian e'er thy limbs invades,
Or shivering fever brings thee near the shades,
Or the slow quartan's lingering plague shall seize
Ne'er to be banished, ever fixed disease-
All such thou by the Agate's aid may'st heal,
None else more sovereign can my skill reveal-
One thing alone will certain proof supply
To test the powers that in the jewel lie,
Midst seething meat if thou an Agate throw,
The softened flesh shall sink dissoved below.
Yet nought avails it for the viper's sting;
For that another remedy I sing,
Sent down from heaven, with healing virtue blest;
Treasure my words within thy mindful breast.-
When Uranus, as ancient legends say,
Maimed by the cruel scythe of Saturn lay,
And writhed in torture o'er the blue profound,
From heaven's high vault self-dashing to the ground,
That with his shaggy back, to ruin hurled,
With thickest darkeness he might blot the world,
Lest cruel Saturn, author of his woes,
In realms once his, might undisturbed repose;
The immortal blood fast issuing from his wound
In copious streams fell raining on the ground,
The drops proceeding from thy sacred veins
Fate not suffered not to perish on the plains;
But for thy blood a resting-place she found,
Sire of the gods! within earth's lap profoud-
There it remains: Sol's horses, fiery-eyed,
With their hot glance the holy relic dried:
Though to the touch a stone, its substance holds
Its ancient nature and true blood enfolds-
For still as red as blood its colour burns,
And slaked in water it to blood returns.
The Stone of Blood 'twas by the ancients styled,
And justly praised for all its virtues mild.
Poets with truth have sung its heavenly birth
In showers divine descending upon earth;
For it allows no new complaint to seize
The eyes, but quick dispels each old disease.
This comes if mixed with whey of milk so pure,
For ground with honey 'twill the eyelids cure.
It grieves the stone that sealed by blindness' night
The eye of man should be begrudged the sight
Of that bright face from which the welkin shows
The ancientest of gods with high-arched brows.
Through it the eyeballs with fresh lustre shine:
E'en impotence it cures if mixed with wine.
When bent to bear Achilles' arms away,
Fierce Ajax hastened to the wordy fray,
Long I besought him in his hand to bear
As pledge of sure success this mineral rare.
Aided by this bold Ajax had prevailed,
And e'en Minerva had his victory hailed,
Though by that triumph from Ulysses wise
The giant chief had snatched the glorious prize.
But to my counsels a deaf ear he turned,
My proffered aid he obstinately spurned,
And seized his fatal sword - shun thou his fate,
Nor slight my counsels till it be too late-
But since thou knowest the medicine to be good
Against the slippery viper's scaly brood,
Advise thy friends to drink it, timely wise,
Mixed with the draught the Naiad's urn supplies.
Thus, I once wishing my swift-footed friend,
Dolon, to mighty Hector to commend,
To his petition lent a ready ear,
The heaven-borne stone conceding to his prayer
Whence he above all other Trojans placed,
With PRiam's, as with Hector's, favour graced,
My service to requite for present brought
The Liparoean stone with virtue fraught;
Which erst his sire directed by my lore
Envoy to Memnon from Assyria bore;
More precious far than gold the prize he gained
From learned Magians through rich bribes obtained.
Treasure my words in thy believing heart,
Whilst I my own experience here impart.-
First to the bloodless altar shouldst thou haste
Whereon no living victim e'er was placed;
With pious hymns on radiant Pheobus call,
And Earth, great mother giving suck to all;
Next melt this stone amid the rising flames,
Whose odorous fumes the long drawn dragon tames;
They as they mark the vapour mount on high,
Forth issueing from their holes towards it fly,
And hastening onwards in a long array
The altar seek, nor shun the unwonted day.
There let three youths robed in white vestments stand,
Each with a sword two-edged in his hand,
And seize that snake which nearest to the blaze
Snuffing the fumes his spotted coils displays,
Then cut his body as he slaughtered lies
In portions nine, each one of equal size;
Three of all-seeing Sol the portions call,
And three of Earth, the mother of us all,
The omniscient prophetess, the unsullied Maid;
These pile together in a blood-red bowl,
And pour the gift of Pallas o'er the whole,
The ruddy liquor of the jolly god,
With sparkling salt, the attendant on our food,
And brought from Eastern lands the pungent spice,
Rough-coated, black, and of enormous price,
With other condiments that serve to excite
The dormant powers of jaded appetite.
While seethes the caldron o'er the tripod's flame
invoke each godhead by his secret name;
Full well the powers above are pleased to hear
Their mystic names rise with the muttered prayer.
Pray that Megaera, aye devising hurt,
Far from the bubbling caldron they avert,
But that the spirit from the fount of light
Down to the sacred mess may wing his flight.
When boiled the flesh the mystic feast prepare;
But from the tripod let each eat his share,
All that is left the earth must cover o'er;
Last on the hallowed spot libations pour,
Milk and the ruddy wine and fragrant oil,
With these combine the beehive's flowery spoil;
And, last, with chaplets woven from the boughs
Dear to the virgin goddess crown your brows;
Nor let it shame you though in open day
Stripped of your robes to take your homeward way,
Nor once turn back as from the place ye come,
But with your eyes bent forward hasten home;
And if a traveller meet you as ye go,
Beware no greeting on him ye bestow;
But offered to the gods, on your return
Let fragrant spices on the altar burn.-
Such rites performed, all future things I know;
What the airy birds by all their warblings show,
What beasts of brey as though the woods they prowl
Denote, loud answering with responsive how.
Hence known to me the Nebrite, gem divine,
A gift to mortals from the god of wine;
The gods with favour its possessor see,
Accept his offerings, to his prayers agree.
If with revengeful fang the serpent fierce
Pressed by the incautious foot thy body pierce,
The potent Nebrite heals the venomed smart.
To wives it also binds their spouses' heart.
Hence were thy priceless virtues to me shown
Against the deadly asp, life-saving stone!
Which from the bright-green leek deriv'st thy name;
The Prase, an antidote well known to fame;
A green-hued gem that to the admiring gaze
The style and colour of the leek displays.
Hence was I moved thy healing might to try,
Chalazias pure! and proved its potency.
In thee relief I found in fever's glow,
And sure remede against the serpent's blow.-
Son of Latona! this thy lore revered,
Still full of doubt the brave Poeantian heard:
And on my sister, that prophetic maid,
A heavy doom the vengeful Phoebus laid,
When to her warning voice as falsehoods spurned
A stone-deaf ear the mocking Trojans turned.
But I of yore a mighty oath did take
Never to a man a false response to make;
Wherefore, bold archer! with confiding breast,
Receive for truth these words to thee addressed."-
Old Priam's son with precepts such as these
Consoled the friend of fearless Hercules;
And we, whilst yet our bourn far distant showed,
Thus with sweet converse smoothed the rugged road.
Stones in the Poem
Crystal 170
Adamas 180
Galactites 180
Petraces 230
Tree-Agate 235
Stagshorn 240
Barbarian 255
Jasper 265
Lychnis 270
peridot 280
Opal 282
Amber 285
Sunstone 290
Loadstone 305
Ophites 335
Ostrites 340
Echites 345
Sideritis 355
Orites 450
Jet 470
Scorpius 490
Human Head 495
Coral 500
Agate 605
Haematite 640
Nebrites 742
Prase 750
Chalazias 755

@minormobius.bsky.social

2024-07-31T00:14:28.150Z

Minor Mobius

Post reaction in Bluesky

Reactions from everyone (0)

Minor Mobius