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P. Ovidius Naso, Metamorphoses (ed. Arthur Golding) 30 0 Browse Search
P. Ovidius Naso, Metamorphoses (ed. Brookes More) 20 0 Browse Search
Q. Horatius Flaccus (Horace), Odes (ed. John Conington) 8 0 Browse Search
P. Ovidius Naso, Art of Love, Remedy of Love, Art of Beauty, Court of Love, History of Love, Amours (ed. various) 6 0 Browse Search
T. Maccius Plautus, Bacchides, or The Twin Sisters (ed. Henry Thomas Riley) 6 0 Browse Search
Lucretius, De Rerum Natura (ed. William Ellery Leonard) 4 0 Browse Search
Sextus Propertius, Elegies (ed. Vincent Katz) 2 0 Browse Search
Q. Horatius Flaccus (Horace), The Works of Horace (ed. C. Smart, Theodore Alois Buckley) 2 0 Browse Search
T. Maccius Plautus, Stichus, or The Parasite Rebuffed (ed. Henry Thomas Riley) 2 0 Browse Search
Plato, Republic 2 0 Browse Search
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Plato, Republic, Book 3, section 394c (search)
as you remarked, tragedy and comedy; and another which employs the recital of the poet himself, best exemplified, I presume, in the dithyrambThe dithyramb was technically a poem in honor of Bacchus. For its more or less conjectural history cf. Pickard-Cambridge, Dithyramb, Tragedy, and Comedy. Here, however, it is used broadly to designate the type of elaborate Greek lyric which like the odes of Pindar and Bacchylides narrates a myth or legend with little if any dialogue.; and there is again that which employs both, in epic poetry and in many other places, if you apprehend me.” “I understand now,” he said, “what you then meant.” “Recall then also the preceding statement that we were done with the 'wha
Q. Horatius Flaccus (Horace), Odes (ed. John Conington), Book 1, Poem 12 (search)
er'd shade, Or Pindus, or on Haemus chill, Where once the hurrying woods obey'd The minstrel's will, Who, by his mother's gift of song, Held the fleet stream, the rapid breeze, And led with blandishment along The listening trees? Whom praise we first? the sire on high, Who gods and men unerring guides, Who rules the sea, the earth, the sky, Their times and tides. No mightier birth may he beget; No like, no second has he known; Yet nearest to her sire's is set Minerva's throne. Nor yet shall Bacchus pass unsaid, Bold warrior, nor the virgin foe Of savage beasts, nor Phoebus, dread With deadly bow. Alcides too shall be my theme, And Leda's twins, for horses he, He famed for boxing; soon as gleam Their stars at sea, The lash'd spray trickles from the steep, The wind sinks down, the storm-cloud flies, The threatening billow on the deep Obedient lies. Shall now Quirinus take his turn, Or quiet Numa, or the state Proud Tarquin held, or Cato stern, By death made great? Ay, Regulus and the Sc
Q. Horatius Flaccus (Horace), Odes (ed. John Conington), Book 2, Poem 19 (search)
Bacchus I saw in mountain glades Retired (believe it, after years!) Teaching his strains to Dryad maids, While goat-hoof'd satyrs prick'd their ears. Evoe! my eyes with terror glare; My heart is revelling with the god; 'Tis madness! Evoe! spare, O spare, Dread wielder of the ivied rod! Yes, I may sing the Thyiad crew, The stream of wine, the sparkling rills That run with milk, and honey-dew That from the hollow trunk distils; And I may sing thy consort's crown, New set in heaven, and Pentheus' hall With ruthless ruin thundering down, And proud Lycurgus' funeral. Thou turn'st the rivers, thou the sea; Thou, on far summits, moist with wine, Thy Bacchants' tresses harmlessly Dost knot with living serpent-twine. Thou, when the giants, threatening wrack, Were clambering up Jove's citadel, Didst hurl o'erweening Rhoetus back, In tooth and claw a lion fell. Who knew thy feats in dance and play Deem'd thee belike for war's rough game Unmeet: but peace and battle-fray Found thee, their centr
Q. Horatius Flaccus (Horace), Odes (ed. John Conington), Book 3, Poem 3 (search)
The man of firm and righteous will, No rabble, clamorous for the wrong, No tyrant's brow, whose frown may kill, Can shake the strength that makes him strong: Not winds, that chafe the sea they sway, Nor Jove's right hand, with lightning red: Should Nature's pillar'd frame give way, That wreck would strike one fearless head. Pollux and roving Hercules Thus won their way to Heaven's proud steep, 'Mid whom Augustus, couch'd at ease, Dyes his red lips with nectar deep. For this, great Bacchus, tigers drew Thy glorious car, untaught to slave In harness: thus Quirinus flew On Mars' wing'd steeds from Acheron's wave, When Juno spoke with Heaven's assent: “O Ilium, Ilium, wretched town! The judge accurst, incontinent, And stranger dame have dragg'd thee down. Pallas and I, since Priam's sire Denied the gods his pledged reward, Had doom'd them all to sword and fire, The people and their perjured lord. No more the adulterous guest can charm The Spartan queen: the house forsworn No more repels
Q. Horatius Flaccus (Horace), Odes (ed. John Conington), Book 3, Poem 25 (search)
Whither, Bacchus, tear'st thou me. FiIl'd with thy strength? What dens, what forests these, Thus in wildering race I see? What cave shall hearken to my melodies, Tuned to tell of Caesar's praise And throne him high the heavenly ranks among? Sweet and strange shall be my lays, A tale till now by poet voice unsung. As the Evian on the height, Roused from her sleep, looks wonderingly abroad, Looks on Thrace with snow-drifts white, And Rhodope by barbarous footstep trod, So my truant eyes admire The banks, the desolate forests. O great King Who the Naiads dost inspire, And Bacchants, strong from earth huge trees to wring! Not a lowly strain is mine, No mere man's utterance. O, 'tis venture sweet Thee to follow, God of wine, Making the vine-branch round thy temples meet!
P. Ovidius Naso, Metamorphoses (ed. Brookes More), Book 3, line 314 (search)
While these events according to the laws of destiny occurred, and while the child, the twice-born Bacchus, in his cradle lay, 'Tis told that Jupiter, a careless hour, indulged too freely in the nectar cup; and having laid aside all weighty cares, jested with Juno as she idled by. Freely the god began; “Who doubts the truth? The female's pleasure is a great delight, much greater than the pleasure of a male.” Juno denied it; wherefore 'twas agreed to ask Tiresias to declare the truth, than whom none knew both male and female joys: for wandering in a green wood he had seen two serpents coupling; and he took his staff and sharply struck them, till they broke and fled. 'Tis marvelous, that instant he became a woman from a man, and so remained while seven autumns passed. When eight were told, again he saw them in their former plight, and thus he spoke; “Since such a power was wrought, by one stroke of a staff my sex was changed— again I strike!” And even as he struck the same two sna
P. Ovidius Naso, Metamorphoses (ed. Brookes More), Book 3, line 337 (search)
sy spring. There as he stooped to quench his thirst another thirst increased. While he is drinking he beholds himself reflected in the mirrored pool—and loves; loves an imagined body which contains no substance, for he deems the mirrored shade a thing of life to love. He cannot move, for so he marvels at himself, and lies with countenance unchanged, as if indeed a statue carved of Parian marble. Long, supine upon the bank, his gaze is fixed on his own eyes, twin stars; his fingers shaped as Bacchus might desire, his flowing hair as glorious as Apollo's, and his cheeks youthful and smooth; his ivory neck, his mouth dreaming in sweetness, his complexion fair and blushing as the rose in snow-drift white. All that is lovely in himself he loves, and in his witless way he wants himself:— he who approves is equally approved; he seeks, is sought, he burns and he is burnt. And how he kisses the deceitful fount; and how he thrusts his arms to catch the neck that's pictured in the middle of the
P. Ovidius Naso, Metamorphoses (ed. Brookes More), Book 3, line 509 (search)
ne eyes, most fortunate, should not behold the Bacchanalian rites! The day will come, and soon the light will dawn, when Bacchus, born of Semele, shall make his advent known— all hail the new god Bacchus! Either thou must build a temple to this DeitBacchus! Either thou must build a temple to this Deity, or shalt be torn asunder; thy remains, throughout the forest scattered, will pollute the wood with sanguinary streams; and thy life-blood bespatter with corrupting blots thy frenzied mother and her sisters twain. And all shall come to pass, as I oke, lo, Pentheus drove the seer: but all his words, prophetic, were fulfilled, and confirmation followed in his steps.— Bacchus at once appears, and all the fields resound with shouts of everybody there.— men, brides and matrons, and a howling rout— nobles and commons and the most refined— a motley multitude—resistless borne to join those rites of Bacchus, there begun. Then Pentheus cries; “What madness, O ye brave descendants of the Dragon! Sons of Mars! What frenzy has confounded you
P. Ovidius Naso, Metamorphoses (ed. Brookes More), Book 3, line 690 (search)
ly they seized and dragged Acoetes forth, and cast him in a dungeon triple-strong. And while they fixed the instruments of death, kindled the fires, and wrought the cruel irons, the legend says, though no one aided him, the chains were loosened and slipped off his arms; the doors flew open of their own accord. But Pentheus, long-persisting in his rage, not caring to command his men to go, himself went forth to Mount Cithaeron, where resound with singing and with shrilly note the votaries of Bacchus at their rites. As when with sounding brass the trumpeter alarms of war, the mettled charger neighs and scents the battle; so the clamored skies resounding with the dreadful outcries fret the wrath of Pentheus and his rage enflame. About the middle of the mount (with groves around its margin) was a treeless plain, where nothing might conceal. Here as he stood to view the sacred rites with impious eyes, his mother saw him first. She was so wrought with frenzy that she failed to know her son,
P. Ovidius Naso, Metamorphoses (ed. Brookes More), Book 4, line 706 (search)
orious victory, nor hesitates.—Now pacing in the van, both Love and Hymen wave the flaring torch, abundant perfumes lavished in the flames. The houses are bedecked with wreathed flowers; and lyres and flageolets resound, and songs— felicit notes that happy hearts declare. The portals opened, sumptuous halls display their golden splendours, and the noble lords of Cepheus' court take places at the feast, magnificently served. After the feast, when every heart was warming to the joys of genial Bacchus, then, Lyncidian Perseus asked about the land and its ways about the customs and the character of its heroes. Straightway one of the dinner-companions made reply, and asked in turn, “ Now, valiant Perseus, pray tell the story of the deed, that all may know, and what the arts and power prevailed, when you struck off the serpent-covered head.” “There is,” continued Perseus of the house of Agenor, “There is a spot beneath cold Atlas, where in bulwarks of enormous strength, to guard its
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