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Hymn To Mercury. Translated From The Greek Of Homer
by
24.
All night he worked in the serene moonshine–
But when the light of day was spread abroad
He sought his natal mountain-peaks divine.
On his long wandering, neither Man nor God 185
Had met him, since he killed Apollo’s kine,
Nor house-dog had barked at him on his road;
Now he obliquely through the keyhole passed,
Like a thin mist, or an autumnal blast.
25.
Right through the temple of the spacious cave 190
He went with soft light feet–as if his tread
Fell not on earth; no sound their falling gave;
Then to his cradle he crept quick, and spread
The swaddling-clothes about him; and the knave
Lay playing with the covering of the bed 195
With his left hand about his knees–the right
Held his beloved tortoise-lyre tight.
26.
There he lay innocent as a new-born child,
As gossips say; but though he was a God,
The Goddess, his fair mother, unbeguiled, 200
Knew all that he had done being abroad:
‘Whence come you, and from what adventure wild,
You cunning rogue, and where have you abode
All the long night, clothed in your impudence?
What have you done since you departed hence? 205
27.
‘Apollo soon will pass within this gate
And bind your tender body in a chain
Inextricably tight, and fast as fate,
Unless you can delude the God again,
Even when within his arms–ah, runagate! 210
A pretty torment both for Gods and Men
Your father made when he made you!’–‘Dear mother,’
Replied sly Hermes, ‘wherefore scold and bother?
28.
‘As if I were like other babes as old,
And understood nothing of what is what; 215
And cared at all to hear my mother scold.
I in my subtle brain a scheme have got,
Which whilst the sacred stars round Heaven are rolled
Will profit you and me–nor shall our lot
Be as you counsel, without gifts or food, 220
To spend our lives in this obscure abode.
29
‘But we will leave this shadow-peopled cave
And live among the Gods, and pass each day
In high communion, sharing what they have
Of profuse wealth and unexhausted prey; 225
And from the portion which my father gave
To Phoebus, I will snatch my share away,
Which if my father will not–natheless I,
Who am the king of robbers, can but try.
30.
‘And, if Latona’s son should find me out, 230
I’ll countermine him by a deeper plan;
I’ll pierce the Pythian temple-walls, though stout,
And sack the fane of everything I can–
Caldrons and tripods of great worth no doubt,
Each golden cup and polished brazen pan, 235
All the wrought tapestries and garments gay.’–
So they together talked;–meanwhile the Day