The Athenaid: Volume II: Book the Twelfth

Now in the zodiac had the sun o'erpass'd
The tenth fair sign. The new succeeding month,
Though not by Flora, nor Vertumnus deck'd,
Nor green in hue, though first of winter's train,
Oft with unsully'd skies irradiate cheers
The prone creation, and delights mankind.
The birds yet warble on the leafless sprays,
The placid surface, glaz'd by clearest light,
In crystal rivers, and transparent lakes,
Or ocean's smooth cerulean bosom, shews
The finny tribes in play. The active son
Of Neocles uprises, and descries
A dawn which promis'd purity of air,
Of light and calmness, tempting sloth herself
To action. Thus he rous'd his native fire:

Of this kind season not a moment lose,
Themistocles. Sicinus ever nigh
He call'd: Provide two receptacles sure,
Each to contain twelve talents; bring my arms,
Produce a second suit, resembling mine;
Send Hyacinthus; let my chosen band
Of Attic friends, and Sparta's fifty youths,
My followers, be ready for a march.

Soon Hyacinthus enters; still he shews
The perturbation of a mind oppress'd
By some conceal'd misfortune, while, beneath
The shade of sorrow, on his front appear'd
Excelling graces. Him the chief bespake,
Gay in his look, and sprightly in his tone:

Her eastern hill, behold, the morning mounts
In radiance, scatter'd from the liquid gems
On her loose mantle; but the heart of youth
In ev'ry season should rejoice, in clouds
Not less than sunshine, whether nature's voice
Be hoarse in storms, or tune to whisp'ring gales
Her vernal music. Sharp some inward grief,
When youth is sad; yet fortune oft deceives
The inexperienc'd by imagin'd ills,
Or light, which counsel of the more mature
Can lightly heal. Unlock thy lib'ral mind;
To me, a guardian pregnant of relief
Beyond thy father, countrymen, or friends,
Impart thy cares. The sighing guest replied:

To thy controul my service I devote,
O scourge of tyrants, but retain my grief!
Which thou, O first of mortals, or the king
Of high Olympus, never can redress.

Sicinus interrupts; his lord's commands
Are all accomplish'd. Now, Carystian friend,
Resembling me in stature, size and limbs,
The son of Neocles proceeds, accept
That suit of armour; I have tried it well;
Receive a shield familiar to my arm.

He next instructs Sicinus: Thou receive
Twelve talents; hasten to the neighb'ring walls
Of stately Chalcis, populous and rich,
Queen of Euboean cities, in whose port
The twenty ships of Athens yet remain,
Which Chalcis borrow'd, and equipp'd for war.
Of her bold race four thousand we beheld
Distinguish'd late in Artemisium's fight,
At Salamis yet later. First approach
The new-made archon in a rev'rent style,
Timoxenus most potent in that state,
A dubious, timid magistrate, unlike
Nearchus. Cordial salutation bear
To him, my brave associate; do not turn
Thy back on Chalcis, till thy prudence brings
Intelligence of weight; th' Athenian keels
With grain abundant and materials lade,
That friendly roofs th' Eretrians may obtain,
Before grim winter harrow up these streights
Unnavigable soon. This said, he arms;
Begirt by warriors, to the temple speeds,
And greets the priest: In gladsome thought I see
The goddess Health, white-handed, crimson-cheek'd,
As from a silver car in roseate clouds
Look on thy people; dropping on their lips
Restoring dew, she bids them taste and live.
The convalescent piously employ
In labours, where my naval band shall join,
To free th' encumber'd temple, to repair,
To cover dwellings, lest the winter bring
New hardships. Martial exercise I leave
To Cleon's care, while ten revolving suns
Of absence I must count. Now, father, take
This hand, a hand which fortune and thy god
Have ever favour'd, which shall soon convert
The annual day of mourning in thy fane
To festival solemnity of joy.

Bless'd by Tisander, rapid he departs.
Young Hyacinthus follows, who in arms,
Once by his patron worn, to ev'ry eye
Presents a new Themistocles, but such,
As when th' allurement of his early bloom
He, not unconscious of the charm, display'd
To Attic damsels. Cloudless on their march
Apollo shoots a clear and tepid ray;
A scatter'd village in Carystian bounds
To rural hospitality admits
The wearied warriors. Hyacinthus guides
His great protector to a shelt'ring fane
Of Juno, styl'd connubial; stately round
Old beech extend a venerable shade;
Through ages time had witness'd to their growth,
Whose ruddy texture, disarray'd of green,
Glows in