Epodes 5 (Creech): At O Deorum

BUt O what ever God dost fill the Sky,
And rule the Earth and Men below,
What means that rout? and why
Each Fury bends on me an angry brow?

By all thy brood, if e're Lucina came,
To real Births, and eas'd thy throws;
By Honor's useless name,
By Jove that sees, and will revenge my Woes.

Why doth that Stepdame's frown affright?
That rage thy gastly form disgrace?
A hunted Tyger's spight,
And grinning fury sit upon thy Face?

Thus sadly spake the naked lovely Child,
Which e'en a Thracian's Soul might move,
Make raging fury mild
And in a flinty Bosom kindle love:

Canidia, Serpents wreath'd her shaggy brow,
Appear'd, and these Commands she gave;
A Funeral Cypress Bough,
And a wild Fig-tree rooted from a Grave;

A Scritch-Owls Feather, Eggs besmear'd with blood
Of croaking Frogs, a Tyger's paws,
A swelling angry Toad,
And Bones snatcht from a hungry Bitches jaws:

Each powerful Herb that in Iberia springs
To raise strong Love, or Anger tame,
And all that Colchos brings,
Go mix, and burn them in a Magick Flame.

Whilst ready Sagana from beechen Cup
Pour'd Stygian Water o're the Floors,
Her hair an end stood up
Like Hedg-hogs bristles, or a running Bores:

But hardned Veja deaf to all remorse
A little Grave had quickly made;
She rais'd her feeble force,
And joy'd to sweat, and groan upon the Spade:

Where fixt Chin-deep the power unhappy guest
By looking on his meat must dye,
Whilst they renew the Feast,
And He stands famisht, feeding at his Eye:

That His dry Marrow, and his raging Heart
When his weak Senses fail may prove
Fit for their Magick Art,
And make Ingredients for a Cup of Love:

All thought that lustful Floria too was one
That came to view the horrid sight,
She that can charm the Moon
And force the Stars from their fixt seats of light:

Here fierce Canidia whilst her unpar'd Nail
She gnaw'd with an envenom'd Tooth,
Oh what did she conceal!
What horrid words broak from her impious mouth!

Thou Night, thou Moon and all Ye meaner lights
That charm dull Mortals into sleep,
And when our sacred Rites
Are done, an undisturbed silence keep;

Assist me now with all your strength and rage,
That I might pay the debts I owe,
Your greatest force engage
To wreak my spight on my unhappy Foe;

Whilst cruel Beasts asleep in Woods are safe,
Let the Saburran Mastiffs bark,
('Twill make the Neighbours laugh)
At the old Leacher creeping in the dark:

When fierce desire hath raging fury bred
Then let him walk as Lusts perswade
With Oyntment round his Head
As strong as e"re my skilful hands have made:

Ah! what's the matter! where's the Power of Charms
Which fierce Medea once did prove,
When with these conquering Arms
She furiously reveng'd her injur'd Love!

When with a Garment lin'd with secret flame
(What will not jealous rage inspire?)
She burnt the lovely Dame,
And wrapt false Jason's youthful Bride in fire!

Ah! sure no powerful Herb hath scap't my sight,
In shady Groves or purling Streams;
And yet He sleeps all night,
No wanton Miss disturbs him e'en in Dreams:

Ah! Ah, some Witch more skilful sets Thee free,
Unhappy Varus, doom'd to ill,
Thou shalt return to Me;
I'le force Thee back by an unusual skill:

With unresisted Art I'le bind thy Soul,
No Charms shall then thy mind restore;
I'le mix a stronger Bowl,
And urge Thee still as Thou dost scorn the more:

First Heaven shall downward, Earth shall upward move
And to the Center Stars retire;
E'er thou shalt cease to Love,
Or burn like Brimstone in a smoaky Fire:

The injur'd Boy inrag'd no longer strove
To soften them by mournful Prayer
And gentle pitty move,
But spoak these dying words in deep despair:

Poor Charms too weak to alter Humane Fate,
And hinder Plagues from rage Divine;
No Blood shall expiate
So solemn, and so great a Curse as mine.

When I am dead then I'le a Ghost by Night
With crooked Nails your jaws invade,
At every turn affright;
For that's the force and fury of a Shade.

Then will I sit upon your fearful Breast,
And there my dreadful watches keep;
Disturb approaching rest,
And drive away the lazy hand of Sleep.

Thro every Street the Crowd in eager hast
Shall brain the ugly Hags with Stones,
And when Death comes at last,
The Crows shall scatter, Wolves shall break your Bones:

And this my Parents (ah they must survive,
And seek in vain, and mourn for Me)
Tho many years they grieve,
Grown gray in Tears, shall live and smile to see.