Drove his long spear, and underneath the chin
Through the bare neck smote violent and swift.
The murderous ashen beam at once the nerves
Twain of the neck cleft sheer; for all the man
Dropp'd, and his force went from him: down he fell
Headlong. As falls a thunder-blasted oak,
Or perpendicular rock, riven by the flash
Of Jove, in smouldering smoke is hurl'd from high,
So fell he, and his brass-emblazon'd mail
Clatter'd around him. Jove's firm-hearted son
Then left the corse, abandoned where it lay.

Archilochus.

ARCHILOCHUS.

Bef. Ch. 660.

ARCHILOCHUS, the son of Telesicles, was born in the isle of Paros: his genius and his malignity were equally celebrated. Ælian speaks of him as a debauched and shameless character: a coward in battle, and an impudent boaster of his cowardice. Valerius Maximus informs us that "the Lacedæmonians ordered the works of Archilochus to be transported out of their city as they thought the matter of them indecent and immodest, and were loth that the minds of their children should imbibe that, which would rather injure their morals than improve their genius. They therefore punished, by the banishment of his verses, one who was their greatest, or next to their

greatest, poet; because he had lashed with obscene invectives a family that was obnoxious to him.” This was the family of Lycambes, who, together with one of his daughters, is said to have hanged himself in consequence of these defamatory indecencies.

Horace mentions Archilochus as the inventor of the Iambic foot; which, in the ancient languages, possessed a freedom and rapidity favourable to satirical composition. Of the formidable lampoons of this poet, there is nothing remaining; and his fragments are chiefly of a grave and philosophic cast.

ARCHILOCHUS.

EXHORTATION TO FORTITUDE,

UNDER CALAMITY.

GROANS rise on griefs, oh Pericles! nor they Who feed the woe, in wine or feast are gay. The billow of the many-roaring deep

Has borne these pleasures in its whelming sweep. Our grief-swol❜n hearts, now, draw their breath in

pain;

Yet blessings, oh my friend! shall smile again. The Gods reserve for seeming-cureless woe

A balm, and antidotes on grief bestow.

In turn the cure and suffering take their round, And we now groaning feel the bleeding wound: Now other breasts the shifting tortures know; Endure; nor droop thus womanish in woe.

ON AN ECLIPSE OF THE SUN.

NOUGHT, now, can pass belief; in Nature's ways No strange anomaly our wonder raise.

Th' Olympian Father hangs a noon-day night O'er the sun's disk, and veils its glittering light. Fear falls on man. Hence miracles, before Incredible, are counted strange no more.

Stand not amazed if beasts exchange the wood With dolphins; and exist amidst the flood; These the firm land forsake for sounding waves, And those find pleasure in the mountain caves.

EQUANIMITY.

SPIRIT, thou Spirit, like a troubled sea,
Ruffled with deep and hard calamity,

Sustain the shock: a daring heart oppose:
Stand firm, amidst the charging spears of foes:
If conquering, vaunt not in vain-glorious show:
If conquer'd, stoop not, prostrated in woe:
Moderate, in joy, rejoice; in sorrow, mourn:
Muse on man's lot: be thine discreetly borne.