Last did the Father of Gods with his sacred spouse and his offspring,Proud from the Heavens proceed, thee leaving (Phoebus) in loneness,Lone wi' thy sister twin who haunteth mountains of Idrus:For that the Virgin spurned as thou the person of Peleus,Nor Thetis' nuptial torch would greet by act of her presence.When they had leaned their limbs upon snowy benches reposing,Tables largely arranged with various viands were garnisht.But, ere opened the feast, with infirm gesture their semblanceShaking, the Parcae fell to chaunting veridique verses.Robed were their tremulous frames all o'er in muffle of garmentsBright-white, purple of hem enfolding heels in its edges;Snowy the fillets that bound heads aged by many a year-tide,And, as their wont aye was, their hands plied labour unceasing.Each in her left upheld with soft fleece clothed a distaff,Then did the right that drew forth thread with upturn of fingersGently fashion the yarn which deftly twisted by thumb-ballSpeeded the spindle poised by thread-whorl perfect of polish;Thus as the work was wrought, the lengths were trimmed wi' the fore-teeth,While to their thin, dry lips stuck wool-flecks severed by biting,Which at the first outstood from yarn-hanks evenly fine-drawn.Still at their feet in front soft fleece-flecks white as the snow-flakeLay in the trusty guard of wickers woven in withies.Always a-carding the wool, with clear-toned voices resoundingTold they such lots as these in song divinely directed,Chaunts which none after-time shall 'stablish falsehood-convicted.
1.O who by virtues great all highmost honours enhancest,Guard of Emáthia-land, most famous made by thine offspring,Take what the Sisters deign this gladsome day to disclose thee,Oracles soothfast told,—And ye, by Destiny followed,Speed ye, the well-spun woof out-drawing, speed ye, 0 Spindles.
2.
Soon to thy sight shall rise, their fond hopes bringing to bridegrooms,Hesperus: soon shall come thy spouse with planet auspicious,Who shall thy mind enbathe with a love that softens the spirit,And as thyself shall prepare for sinking in languorous slumber,Under thy neck robust, soft arms dispreading as pillow.Speed ye, the well-spun woof out-drawing, speed ye, 0 Spindles.3.Never a house like this such loves as these hath united,Never did love conjoin by such-like covenant lovers,As th'according tie Thetis deigned in concert wi' Peleus.Speed ye, the well-spun woof out-drawing, speed ye, 0 Spindles.
4.Born of yon twain shall come Achilles guiltless of fear-sense,Known by his forceful breast and ne'er by back to the foeman,Who shall at times full oft in doubtful contest of race-courseConquer the fleet-foot doe with slot-tracks smoking and burning.Speed ye, the well-spun woof out-drawing, speed ye, 0 Spindles.
5.
None shall with him compare, howe'er war-doughty a hero,Whenas the Phrygian rills flow deep with bloodshed of Teucer,And beleaguering the walls of Troy with longest of warfareHe shall the works lay low, third heir of Pelops the perjured.Speed ye, the well-spun woof out-drawing, speed ye, 0 Spindles.6.His be the derring-do and deeds of valour egregious,Often mothers shall own at funeral-rites of their children,What time their hoary hairs from head in ashes are loosened,And wi' their hands infirm thay smite their bosoms loose duggèd.Speed ye, the well-spun woof out-drawing, speed ye, 0 Spindles.
7.For as the toiling hind bestrewing denseness of corn-stalksUnder the broiling sun mows grain-fields yellow to harvest,So shall his baneful brand strew earth with corpses of Troy-born.Speed ye, the well-spun woof out-drawing, speed ye, 0 Spindles.
8.Aye to his valorous worth attest shall wave of ScamanderWhich unto Hellè-Sea fast flowing ever dischargeth,Straiter whose course shall grow by up-heaped barrage of corpses,While in his depths runs warm his stream with slaughter commingled.Speed ye, the well-spun woof out-drawing, speed ye, 0 Spindles.
9.Witness in fine shall be the victim rendered to death-stroke,Whenas the earthern tomb on lofty tumulus buildedShall of the stricken maid receive limbs white as the snow-flake.Speed ye, the well-spun woof out-drawing, speed ye, 0 Spindles.
10.For when at last shall Fors to weary Achaians her fiat