Of the Nature of Things. T. Lucretius Carus

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      Book I

       Table of Contents

       PROEM

       Mother of Rome, delight of Gods and men,

       Dear Venus that beneath the gliding stars

       Makest to teem the many-voyaged main

       And fruitful lands--for all of living things

       Through thee alone are evermore conceived,

       Through thee are risen to visit the great sun--

       Before thee, Goddess, and thy coming on,

       Flee stormy wind and massy cloud away,

       For thee the daedal Earth bears scented flowers,

       For thee waters of the unvexed deep

       Smile, and the hollows of the serene sky

       Glow with diffused radiance for thee!

       For soon as comes the springtime face of day,

       And procreant gales blow from the West unbarred,

       First fowls of air, smit to the heart by thee,

       Foretoken thy approach, O thou Divine,

       And leap the wild herds round the happy fields

       Or swim the bounding torrents. Thus amain,

       Seized with the spell, all creatures follow thee

       Whithersoever thou walkest forth to lead,

       And thence through seas and mountains and swift streams,

       Through leafy homes of birds and greening plains,

       Kindling the lure of love in every breast,

       Thou bringest the eternal generations forth,

       Kind after kind. And since 'tis thou alone

       Guidest the Cosmos, and without thee naught

       Is risen to reach the shining shores of light,

       Nor aught of joyful or of lovely born,

       Thee do I crave co-partner in that verse

       Which I presume on Nature to compose

       For Memmius mine, whom thou hast willed to be

       Peerless in every grace at every hour--

       Wherefore indeed, Divine one, give my words

       Immortal charm. Lull to a timely rest

       O'er sea and land the savage works of war,

       For thou alone hast power with public peace

       To aid mortality; since he who rules

       The savage works of battle, puissant Mars,

       How often to thy bosom flings his strength

       O'ermastered by the eternal wound of love--

       And there, with eyes and full throat backward thrown,

       Gazing, my Goddess, open-mouthed at thee,

       Pastures on love his greedy sight, his breath

       Hanging upon thy lips. Him thus reclined

       Fill with thy holy body, round, above!

       Pour from those lips soft syllables to win

       Peace for the Romans, glorious Lady, peace!

       For in a season troublous to the state

       Neither may I attend this task of mine

       With thought untroubled, nor mid such events

       The illustrious scion of the Memmian house

       Neglect the civic cause.

       Whilst human kind

       Throughout the lands lay miserably crushed

       Before all eyes beneath Religion--who

       Would show her head along the region skies,

       Glowering on mortals with her hideous face--

       A Greek it was who first opposing dared

       Raise mortal eyes that terror to withstand,

       Whom nor the fame of Gods nor lightning's stroke

       Nor threatening thunder of the ominous sky

       Abashed; but rather chafed to angry zest

       His dauntless heart to be the first to rend

       The crossbars at the gates of Nature old.

       And thus his will and hardy wisdom won;

       And forward thus he fared afar, beyond

       The flaming ramparts of the world, until

       He wandered the unmeasurable All.

       Whence he to us, a conqueror, reports

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