Pindar opens this ode with an invocation to Vesta (the goddess who presided over the courts of justice, and whose statue and altar were for that reason placed in the town-halls, or *Prytaneums*, as the Greeks called them), beseeching her to receive favourably Ariftagoras and his colleagues, who were then coming to offer sacrifices to her, upon their entering on their office of Prytans or magistrates of Tenedos; which office continuing for a year, he begs the goddess to take Ariftagoras under her protection during that time, and to conduct him to the end of it without trouble or disgrace. From Ariftagoras, Pindar turns himself in the next place to his father Arcelis, whom he pronounces happy, as well upon account of his son's merit and honour, as upon his own great endowments and good fortune: such as beauty, strength, courage, riches, and glory, resulting from his many victories in the games. But lest he should be too much puffed up with these praises, he reminds him at the same time of his mortality, and tells him that his clothing of flesh is perishable, that he must ever long be clothed with earth, the end of all things; and yet, continues he, it is but justice to praise and celebrate the worthy and deserving, who from good citizens ought to receive all kinds of honour and commendation; as Ariftagoras, for instance, who hath rendered both himself and his country illustrious by the many victories he hath obtained, to the number of fifteen, over the neighbouring youth, in the games exhibited in and about his own country. From whence, says the poet, I conclude he would have come off victorious even in the Pythian and Olympic games, had he not been restrained from engaging in those famous lists by the too timid and cautious love of his parents. Upon which he falls into a moral reflection upon the vanity of man's hopes and fears; by the former of which they are oftentimes excited to attempts beyond their strength, which accordingly issue in their disgrace; as, on the other hand, they are frequently restrained, by unreasonable and ill-grounded fears, from enterprises, in which they would in all probability have come off with honour. This reflection he applies to Ariftagoras, by saying it was very easy to foresee what success he was like to meet with, who both by father and mother was defended from a long train of great and valiant men. But here again, with a very artful turn of flattery to his father Arcelis, whom he had before represented as strong and valiant, and famous for his victories in the games, he observes that every generation, even of a great and glorious family, is not equally illustrious any more than the fields and trees are every year equally fruitful; that the gods had not given mortals any certain tokens by which they might foreknow when the rich years of virtue should succeed; whence it comes to pass, that men, out of self-conceit and presumption, are perpetually laying schemes, and forming enterprises, without previously consulting prudence or wisdom, whose *freemen*, says he, lie remote and out of the common road. From all which he infers, that it is better to moderate our desires, and set bounds to our avarice and ambition; with which moral precept he concludes the ode.

STROPHE I.

Daughter of Rhea! thou, whose holy fire Before the awful feet of justice flames! Sister of heav'n's almighty fire! Sister of Juno, who coequal claims With love to share the empire of the gods! O virgin Vesta! to thy dread abodes, Lo! Ariftagoras directs his pace! Receive and near thy sacred fæcere place Him, and his colleagues, who, with honest zeal, O'er Tenedos preside, and guard the public weal.

ANTISTROPHE I.

And lo! with frequent off'nings, they adore Thee*, first invok'd in ev'ry solemn pray'r! To thee unmix'd libations pour, And fill with od'rous fumes the fragrant air.

* It was usual in all solemn sacrifices and prayers to begin with invoking. Around in festive songs the hymning choir Mix the melodious voice and sounding lyre, While still, prolong'd with hospitable love, Are solemniz'd the rites of genial Jove: Then guard him, Veifa, through his long career, And let him cloe in joy his ministerial year.

**Epode I.**

But hail, Areopilas! all hail To thee, blest'father of a son so great! Thou whom on fortune's highest scale The favourable hand of heav'n hath set, Thy manly form with beauty hath refin'd, And match'd that beauty with a valiant mind. Yet let not man too much presume, Tho' grac'd with beauty's fairest bloom; Tho' for superior strength renown'd; Tho' with triumphal chaplets crown'd; Let him remember, that, in flesh array'd, Soon shall he feel that mortal vestment fade; Till loft, imprison'd in the mould'ring urn, To earth, the end of all things, he return.

**Strophe II.**

Yet should the worthy from the public tongue Receive their recompense of virtuous praise; By ev'ry zealous patriot sung, And deck'd with ev'ry flow'r of heav'nly lays. Such retribution in return for fame, Such, Aristagoras, thy virtues claim, Claim from thy country; on whose glorious brows The wretch'ler's chaplet still unfaded blows; Mix'd with the great Pancratia'thron crown, Which from the neighboring youth thy early valour won.

**Antistrophe II.**

And (but his timid parents' cautious love, Disturbing ever his too forward hands, Forbade their tender son to prove The toils of Pythia or Olympias' sands), Now by the Gods I swear, his valorous might Had 'scap'd victorious in each bloody fight; And from Caflalia, or where dark with shade The mount of Saturn rear's its olive head, Great and illustrious home had he return'd; While, by his fame eclips'd, his vanquish'd foes had mourn'd.

**Epode II.**

Then his triumphal tresses bound With the dark verdure of th' Olympic grove, With joyous banquets had he crown'd The great quinquennial festival of Jove; And cheer'd the solemn pomp with choral lays, Sweet tribute, which the muse to virtue pays. But, such is man's prepos'rous fate! Now, with o'er-weaning pride elate, Too far he aims his shaft to throw, And straining burfts his feeble bow: Now pusillanimous depress'd with fear, He checks his virtue in the mid career; And of his strength distrustful, coward flies The contest, tho' empow'rd to gain the prize.

**Strophe III.**

But who could err in prophesying good Of him, whose undegenerating breast Swells with a tide of Spartan blood, From fire to fire in long succession trac'd Up to Pisander; who in days of yore From old Amyclae to the Leshian shore And Tenedos, colleagu'd in high command With great Orestes, led th' Æolian band? Nor was his mother's race less strong and brave, Sprung from a stock that grew on fair* Ifmenus' wave.* Ifmenus was a river of Boeotia, of which country was Menalip-pus, the ancestor of Ar-riftagoras by the mother's side.

**Antistrophe III.**

Tho' for long intervals obscure'd, again Oft-times the seeds of linseed worth appear. For neither can the furrow'd plain Full harvest yield with each returning year; Nor in each period will the pregnant bloom Invest the smiling tree with rich perfume. So, barren often, and inglorious, pass The generations of a noble race; While nature's vigour, working at the root, In after-ages twells, and blossoms into fruit.

**Epode III.**

Nor hath Jove giv'n us to foreknow When the rich years of virtue shall succeed: Yet bold and daring on we go, Contriving schemes of many a mighty deed; While hope, fond inmate of the human mind, And self-opinion, active, rash, and blind, Hold up a false illusive ray, That leads our dazzled feet astray Far from the springs, where, calm and slow, The secret streams of wisdom flow. Hence should we learn our ardour to restrain, And limit to due bounds the thirst of gain. To rage and madness oft that passion turns, Which with forbidden flames despairing burns.

From the above specimen, and from what we have already said on this subject, the reader will perceive, ing character that odes of this sort are distinguished by the happy ters of it transitions and digressions which they admit, and the surprising yet natural returns to the subject. This requires great judgement and genius; and the poet who would excel in this kind of writing, should draw the plan of his poem, in manner of the argument we have above inferred, and mark out the places where those elegant and beautiful fallies and wanderings may be made, and where the returns will be easy and proper.

Pindar, it is universally allowed, had a poetical and fertile imagination, a warm and enthusiastic genius, a bold and figurative expression, and a concise and sententious style: but it is generally supposed that many of those pieces which procured him such extravagant praises and extraordinary testimonies of esteem from the ancients are lost; and if they were not, it would be perhaps impossible to convey them into our language; for beauties of this kind, like plants of an odoriferous and delicate nature, are not to be transplanted into another clime without losing much of their fragrance or essential quality. With regard to those compositions which are usually called *Pindaric odes* (but which ought rather to be distinguished by the name of *irregular odes*), we have many in our language that deserve particular commendation: the criticism which Mr Congreve has given us on that subject, has too much acerbity and too great latitude; for if other writers have, by mistaking Pindar's measures, given their odes an improper title, it is a crime, one would think, not so dangerous to the commonwealth of letters as to deserve such severe reproof. Beside which, we may suppose that some of these writers did not deviate from Pindar's method through ignorance, but by choice; and that as their odes were not to be performed with both singing and dancing, in the manner of Pindar's, it seemed unnecessary to confine the first and second stanzas to the same exact number as was done in his strophes and antistrophes. The poet therefore had a right to indulge himself with more liberty: and we cannot help thinking, that the ode which Mr Dryden has given us, entitled, *Alexander's Feast*, or the Power of Music, is altogether as valuable in loose and wild numbers, as it could have been if the stanzas were more regular, and written in the manner of Pindar. In this ode there is a wonderful sublimity of thought, a loftiness and sweetness of expression, and a most pleasing variety of numbers.

'Twas at the royal feast, for Persia won By Philip's warlike son, Aloft, in awful state, The god-like hero fate On his imperial throne: His valiant peers were plac'd around; Their brows with roses and with myrtles bound, (So should defeat in arms be crown'd); The lovely Thais by his side Sat like a blooming eastern bride, In flow'r of youth and beauty's pride. Happy, happy, happy pair! None but the brave, None but the brave, None but the brave deserve the fair. Chor. Happy, happy, &c.

'Timotheus, plac'd on high Amid the tuneful quire, With flying fingers touch'd the lyre: The trembling notes ascend the sky, And heav'nly joys inspire. The song began from Jove, Who left his blissful seats above, (Such is the pow'r of mighty love!) A dragon's fiery form bely'd the god: Sublime on radiant spires he rode, When he to fair Olympia pref'd; And while he fought her snowy breast: Then round her slender waist he curl'd, And stamp'd an image of himself, a fav'reign of the world. The lift'ning crowd admire the lofty found. A prefent deity, they shout around; A prefent deity, the vaulted roofs rebound: With ravish'd ears The monarch hears;

Afumes the god, Affects to nod, And seems to shake the spheres. Chor. With ravish'd ears, &c.

The praise of Bacchus then the sweet musician sung; Of Bacchus ever fair and ever young: The jolly god in triumph comes; Sound the trumpets, beat the drums: Flush'd with a purple grace, He shows his honest face: Now give the hautboys breath; he comes, he comes!