Page:The Crowne of all Homers Workes - Chapman (1624).djvu/79

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68
A HYMNE TO HERMES.


From others mouthes, one word of their resort
To any stranger. Nor will I, to gaine
A base Reward, a false Relation faine.
Nor would I; Could I tell. Resemble I
An Ox-Theefe? Or a Man? Especiallie
A man of such a courage; such a force
As to that labour goes? That violent course?
Nor Infants worke is That. My powres aspire
To sleepe, and quenching of my huners fire
With Mothers Milke; and gainst cold shades, to arme
With Cradle-cloths, my shoulders; and Baths warme;
That no man may conceiue, the warr you threat
Can spring, in cause, from my so peacefull heat.
And euen amongst th'Immortalls it would beare
Euent of absolute Miracle, to heare
A new-borne Infants forces should transcend
The limits of his Dores; much lesse contend
With untam'd Oxen. This speech nothing seemes
To sauour the Decorum of the Beames
Cast round about the Ayre Apollo breakes,
Where his diuine minde, her intention speakes.
I brake but yesterday, the blessed wombe;
My feet are tender, and the common Tombe
Of men, (the Earth) lies sharpe beneath their tred.
But, (if you please) euen by my Fathers head
I'le take the great Oath; That nor I protest
My selfe, to Author on your Interest
Any such usurpation; Nor haue I

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