Title:   On the Nature of Things

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Author:   Lucretius

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PDF Version:   1.2



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Bookmarks





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On the Nature of Things

Lucretius



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Page No 2


Table of Contents

On the Nature of Things .....................................................................................................................................1

Lucretius..................................................................................................................................................1

BOOK I ....................................................................................................................................................2

Proem ......................................................................................................................................................2

Substance is Eternal.................................................................................................................................4

The Void..................................................................................................................................................8

Nothing Exists Per Se Except Atoms and the Void ...............................................................................10

Character of the Atoms..........................................................................................................................11

Confutation of Other Philosophers........................................................................................................14

The Infinity of the Universe ...................................................................................................................20

BOOK II .................................................................................................................................................24

Proem ....................................................................................................................................................24

Atomic Motions.....................................................................................................................................26

Atomic Forms and Their Combinations................................................................................................32

Absence of Secondary Qualities............................................................................................................40

Lo, change the rivers, the fronds, the gladsome pastures......................................................................43

Infinite Worlds .......................................................................................................................................46

BOOK III...............................................................................................................................................50

Proem ....................................................................................................................................................50

Nature and Composition of the Mind....................................................................................................52

The Soul is Mortal.................................................................................................................................58

Folly of the Fear of Death ......................................................................................................................67

Cerberus and Furies, and that Lack of Light  .........................................................................................71

BOOK IV ...............................................................................................................................................73

Proem ....................................................................................................................................................73

Existence and Character of the Images ..................................................................................................73

The Senses and Mental Pictures............................................................................................................77

Some Vital Functions .............................................................................................................................91

The Passion of Love ...............................................................................................................................96

BOOK V..............................................................................................................................................101

Proem ..................................................................................................................................................101

Argument of the Book and New Proem Against Teleological  Concept .............................................102

The World is Not Eternal .....................................................................................................................106

Formation of the World and Astronomical Questions .........................................................................111

Origins of Vegetable and Animal Life .................................................................................................120

Origins and Savage Period of Mankind ...............................................................................................123

Beginnings of Civilization...................................................................................................................125

BOOK VI .............................................................................................................................................135

Proem ..................................................................................................................................................135

Great Meteorological Phenomena, Etc................................................................................................138

Extraordinary and Paradoxical Telluric Phenomena...........................................................................150

The Plague Athens...............................................................................................................................162


On the Nature of Things

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On the Nature of Things

Lucretius

Translated by William Ellery Leonard

Book I 

Proem 

Substance is Eternal 

The Void 

Nothing Exists Per Se Except Atoms and the Void 

Character of the Atoms 

Confutation of Other Philosophers 

The Infinity of the Universe 

Book II 

Proem 

Atomic Motions 

Atomic Forms and Their Combinations 

Absence of Secondary Qualities 

Lo, change the rivers, the fronds, the gladsome pastures 

Infinite Worlds 

Book III 

Proem 

Nature and Composition of the Mind 

The Soul is Mortal 

Folly of the Fear of Death 

Cerberus and Furies, and that Lack of Light 

Book IV 

Proem 

Existence and Character of the Images 

The Senses and Mental Pictures 

Some Vital Functions 

The Passion of Love 

Book V 

Proem 

Argument of the Book and New Proem Against Teleological Concept 

The World is Not Eternal 

Formation of the World and Astronomical Questions 

Origins of Vegetable and Animal Life 

Origins and Savage Period of Mankind 

Beginnings of Civilization 

Book VI 

Proem 

Great Meteorological Phenomena, Etc 

Extraordinary and Paradoxical Telluric Phenomena 

The Plague Athens  

On the Nature of Things 1



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BOOK I

Proem

Mother of Rome, delight of Gods and men, 

Dear Venus that beneath the gliding stars 

Makest to teem the manyvoyaged 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 copartner 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, openmouthed 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. 


On the Nature of Things

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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 

What things can rise to being, what cannot, 

And by what law to each its scope prescribed, 

Its boundary stone that clings so deep in Time. 

Wherefore Religion now is under foot, 

And us his victory now exalts to heaven. 

I know how hard it is in Latian verse 

To tell the dark discoveries of the Greeks, 

Chiefly because our pauperspeech must find 

Strange terms to fit the strangeness of the thing; 

Yet worth of thine and the expected joy 

Of thy sweet friendship do persuade me on 

To bear all toil and wake the clear nights through, 

Seeking with what of words and what of song 

I may at last most gloriously uncloud 

For thee the light beyond, wherewith to view 

The core of being at the centre hid. 

And for the rest, summon to judgments true, 

Unbusied ears and singleness of mind 

Withdrawn from cares; lest these my gifts, arranged 

For thee with eager service, thou disdain 

Before thou comprehendest: since for thee 

I prove the supreme law of Gods and sky, 

And the primordial germs of things unfold, 

Whence Nature all creates, and multiplies 

And fosters all, and whither she resolves 

Each in the end when each is overthrown. 

This ultimate stock we have devised to name 

Procreant atoms, matter, seeds of things, 

Or primal bodies, as primal to the world. 

I fear perhaps thou deemest that we fare 

An impious road to realms of thought profane; 

But 'tis that same religion oftener far 

Hath bred the foul impieties of men: 

As once at Aulis, the elected chiefs, 

Foremost of heroes, Danaan counsellors, 

Defiled Diana's altar, virgin queen, 

With Agamemnon's daughter, foully slain. 

She felt the chaplet round her maiden locks 

And fillets, fluttering down on either cheek, 

And at the altar marked her grieving sire, 

The priests beside him who concealed the knife, 

And all the folk in tears at sight of her. 

With a dumb terror and a sinking knee 

She dropped; nor might avail her now that first 


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'Twas she who gave the king a father's name. 

They raised her up, they bore the trembling girl 

On to the altar hither led not now 

With solemn rites and hymeneal choir, 

But sinless woman, sinfully foredone, 

A parent felled her on her bridal day, 

Making his child a sacrificial beast 

To give the ships auspicious winds for Troy: 

Such are the crimes to which Religion leads. 

And there shall come the time when even thou, 

Forced by the soothsayer's terrortales, shalt seek 

To break from us. Ah, many a dream even now 

Can they concoct to rout thy plans of life, 

And trouble all thy fortunes with base fears. 

I own with reason: for, if men but knew 

Some fixed end to ills, they would be strong 

By some device unconquered to withstand 

Religions and the menacings of seers. 

But now nor skill nor instrument is theirs, 

Since men must dread eternal pains in death. 

For what the soul may be they do not know, 

Whether 'tis born, or enter in at birth, 

And whether, snatched by death, it die with us, 

Or visit the shadows and the vasty caves 

Of Orcus, or by some divine decree 

Enter the brute herds, as our Ennius sang, 

Who first from lovely Helicon brought down 

A laurel wreath of bright perennial leaves, 

Renowned forever among the Italian clans. 

Yet Ennius too in everlasting verse 

Proclaims those vaults of Acheron to be, 

Though thence, he said, nor souls nor bodies fare, 

But only phantom figures, strangely wan, 

And tells how once from out those regions rose 

Old Homer's ghost to him and shed salt tears 

And with his words unfolded Nature's source. 

Then be it ours with steady mind to clasp 

The purport of the skies the law behind 

The wandering courses of the sun and moon; 

To scan the powers that speed all life below; 

But most to see with reasonable eyes 

Of what the mind, of what the soul is made, 

And what it is so terrible that breaks 

On us asleep, or waking in disease, 

Until we seem to mark and hear at hand 

Dead men whose bones earth bosomed long ago. 

Substance is Eternal

This terror, then, this darkness of the mind, 

Not sunrise with its flaring spokes of light, 

Nor glittering arrows of morning can disperse, 

But only Nature's aspect and her law, 

Which, teaching us, hath this exordium: 

Nothing from nothing ever yet was born. 

Fear holds dominion over mortality 

Only because, seeing in land and sky 

So much the cause whereof no wise they know, 


On the Nature of Things

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Men think Divinities are working there. 

Meantime, when once we know from nothing still 

Nothing can be create, we shall divine 

More clearly what we seek: those elements 

From which alone all things created are, 

And how accomplished by no tool of Gods. 

Suppose all sprang from all things: any kind 

Might take its origin from any thing, 

No fixed seed required. Men from the sea 

Might rise, and from the land the scaly breed, 

And, fowl full fledged come bursting from the sky; 

The horned cattle, the herds and all the wild 

Would haunt with varying offspring tilth and waste; 

Nor would the same fruits keep their olden trees, 

But each might grow from any stock or limb 

By chance and change. Indeed, and were there not 

For each its procreant atoms, could things have 

Each its unalterable mother old? 

But, since produced from fixed seeds are all, 

Each birth goes forth upon the shores of light 

From its own stuff, from its own primal bodies. 

And all from all cannot become, because 

In each resides a secret power its own. 

Again, why see we lavished o'er the lands 

At spring the rose, at summer heat the corn, 

The vines that mellow when the autumn lures, 

If not because the fixed seeds of things 

At their own season must together stream, 

And new creations only be revealed 

When the due times arrive and pregnant earth 

Safely may give unto the shores of light 

Her tender progenies? But if from naught 

Were their becoming, they would spring abroad 

Suddenly, unforeseen, in alien months, 

With no primordial germs, to be preserved 

From procreant unions at an adverse hour. 

Nor on the mingling of the living seeds 

Would space be needed for the growth of things 

Were life an increment of nothing: then 

The tiny babe forthwith would walk a man, 

And from the turf would leap a branching tree 

Wonders unheard of; for, by Nature, each 

Slowly increases from its lawful seed, 

And through that increase shall conserve its kind. 

Whence take the proof that things enlarge and feed 

From out their proper matter. Thus it comes 

That earth, without her seasons of fixed rains, 

Could bear no produce such as makes us glad, 

And whatsoever lives, if shut from food, 

Prolongs its kind and guards its life no more. 

Thus easier 'tis to hold that many things 

Have primal bodies in common (as we see 

The single letters common to many words) 

Than aught exists without its origins. 

Moreover, why should Nature not prepare 

Men of a bulk to ford the seas afoot, 

Or rend the mighty mountains with their hands, 

Or conquer Time with length of days, if not 

Because for all begotten things abides 

The changeless stuff, and what from that may spring 

Is fixed forevermore? Lastly we see 

How far the tilled surpass the fields untilled 


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Page No 8


And to the labour of our hands return 

Their more abounding crops; there are indeed 

Within the earth primordial germs of things, 

Which, as the ploughshare turns the fruitful clods 

And kneads the mould, we quicken into birth. 

Else would ye mark, without all toil of ours, 

Spontaneous generations, fairer forms. 

Confess then, naught from nothing can become, 

Since all must have their seeds, wherefrom to grow, 

Wherefrom to reach the gentle fields of air. 

Hence too it comes that Nature all dissolves 

Into their primal bodies again, and naught 

Perishes ever to annihilation. 

For, were aught mortal in its every part, 

Before our eyes it might be snatched away 

Unto destruction; since no force were needed 

To sunder its members and undo its bands. 

Whereas, of truth, because all things exist, 

With seed imperishable, Nature allows 

Destruction nor collapse of aught, until 

Some outward force may shatter by a blow, 

Or inward craft, entering its hollow cells, 

Dissolve it down. And more than this, if Time, 

That wastes with eld the works along the world, 

Destroy entire, consuming matter all, 

Whence then may Venus back to light of life 

Restore the generations kind by kind? 

Or how, when thus restored, may daedal Earth 

Foster and plenish with her ancient food, 

Which, kind by kind, she offers unto each? 

Whence may the watersprings, beneath the sea, 

Or inland rivers, far and wide away, 

Keep the unfathomable ocean full? 

And out of what does Ether feed the stars? 

For lapsed years and infinite age must else 

Have eat all shapes of mortal stock away: 

But be it the Long Ago contained those germs, 

By which this sum of things recruited lives, 

Those same infallibly can never die, 

Nor nothing to nothing evermore return. 

And, too, the selfsame power might end alike 

All things, were they not still together held 

By matter eternal, shackled through its parts, 

Now more, now less. A touch might be enough 

To cause destruction. For the slightest force 

Would loose the weft of things wherein no part 

Were of imperishable stock. But now 

Because the fastenings of primordial parts 

Are put together diversely and stuff 

Is everlasting, things abide the same 

Unhurt and sure, until some power comes on 

Strong to destroy the warp and woof of each: 

Nothing returns to naught; but all return 

At their collapse to primal forms of stuff. 

Lo, the rains perish which Etherfather throws 

Down to the bosom of Earthmother; but then 

Upsprings the shining grain, and boughs are green 

Amid the trees, and trees themselves wax big 

And lade themselves with fruits; and hence in turn 

The race of man and all the wild are fed; 

Hence joyful cities thrive with boys and girls; 

And leafy woodlands echo with new birds; 


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Page No 9


Hence cattle, fat and drowsy, lay their bulk 

Along the joyous pastures whilst the drops 

Of white ooze trickle from distended bags; 

Hence the young scamper on their weakling joints 

Along the tender herbs, fresh hearts afrisk 

With warm new milk. Thus naught of what so seems 

Perishes utterly, since Nature ever 

Upbuilds one thing from other, suffering naught 

To come to birth but through some other's death. 

And now, since I have taught that things cannot 

Be born from nothing, nor the same, when born, 

To nothing be recalled, doubt not my words, 

Because our eyes no primal germs perceive; 

For mark those bodies which, though known to be 

In this our world, are yet invisible: 

The winds infuriate lash our face and frame, 

Unseen, and swamp huge ships and rend the clouds, 

Or, eddying wildly down, bestrew the plains 

With mighty trees, or scour the mountain tops 

With forestcrackling blasts. Thus on they rave 

With uproar shrill and ominous moan. The winds, 

'Tis clear, are sightless bodies sweeping through 

The sea, the lands, the clouds along the sky, 

Vexing and whirling and seizing all amain; 

And forth they flow and pile destruction round, 

Even as the water's soft and supple bulk 

Becoming a river of abounding floods, 

Which a wide downpour from the lofty hills 

Swells with big showers, dashes headlong down 

Fragments of woodland and whole branching trees; 

Nor can the solid bridges bide the shock 

As on the waters whelm: the turbulent stream, 

Strong with a hundred rains, beats round the piers, 

Crashes with havoc, and rolls beneath its waves 

Downtoppled masonry and ponderous stone, 

Hurling away whatever would oppose. 

Even so must move the blasts of all the winds, 

Which, when they spread, like to a mighty flood, 

Hither or thither, drive things on before 

And hurl to ground with still renewed assault, 

Or sometimes in their circling vortex seize 

And bear in cones of whirlwind down the world: 

The winds are sightless bodies and naught else 

Since both in works and ways they rival well 

The mighty rivers, the visible in form. 

Then too we know the varied smells of things 

Yet never to our nostrils see them come; 

With eyes we view not burning heats, nor cold, 

Nor are we wont men's voices to behold. 

Yet these must be corporeal at the base, 

Since thus they smite the senses: naught there is 

Save body, having property of touch. 

And raiment, hung by surfbeat shore, grows moist, 

The same, spread out before the sun, will dry; 

Yet no one saw how sank the moisture in, 

Nor how by heat offdriven. Thus we know, 

That moisture is dispersed about in bits 

Too small for eyes to see. Another case: 

A ring upon the finger thins away 

Along the under side, with years and suns; 

The drippings from the eaves will scoop the stone; 


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Page No 10


The hooked ploughshare, though of iron, wastes 

Amid the fields insidiously. We view 

The rockpaved highways worn by many feet; 

And at the gates the brazen statues show 

Their right hands leaner from the frequent touch 

Of wayfarers innumerable who greet. 

We see how wearingdown hath minished these, 

But just what motes depart at any time, 

The envious nature of vision bars our sight. 

Lastly whatever days and nature add 

Little by little, constraining things to grow 

In due proportion, no gaze however keen 

Of these our eyes hath watched and known. No more 

Can we observe what's lost at any time, 

When things wax old with eld and foul decay, 

Or when salt seas eat under beetling crags. 

Thus Nature ever by unseen bodies works. 

The Void

But yet creation's neither crammed nor blocked 

About by body: there's in things a void 

Which to have known will serve thee many a turn, 

Nor will not leave thee wandering in doubt, 

Forever searching in the sum of all, 

And losing faith in these pronouncements mine. 

There's place intangible, a void and room. 

For were it not, things could in nowise move; 

Since body's property to block and check 

Would work on all and at an times the same. 

Thus naught could evermore push forth and go, 

Since naught elsewhere would yield a starting place. 

But now through oceans, lands, and heights of heaven 

By divers causes and in divers modes, 

Before our eyes we mark how much may move, 

Which, finding not a void, would fail deprived 

Of stir and motion; nay, would then have been 

Nowise begot at all, since matter, then, 

Had staid at rest, its parts together crammed. 

Then too, however solid objects seem, 

They yet are formed of matter mixed with void: 

In rocks and caves the watery moisture seeps, 

And beady drops stand out like plenteous tears; 

And food finds way through every frame that lives; 

The trees increase and yield the season's fruit 

Because their food throughout the whole is poured, 

Even from the deepest roots, through trunks and boughs; 

And voices pass the solid walls and fly 

Reverberant through shut doorways of a house; 

And stiffening frost seeps inward to our bones. 

Which but for voids for bodies to go through 

'Tis clear could happen in nowise at all. 

Again, why see we among objects some 

Of heavier weight, but of no bulkier size: 

Indeed, if in a ball of wool there be 

As much of body as in lump of lead, 

The two should weigh alike, since body tends 

To load things downward, while the void abides, 

By contrary nature, the imponderable. 


On the Nature of Things

The Void 8



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Page No 11


Therefore, an object just as large but lighter 

Declares infallibly its more of void; 

Even as the heavier more of matter shows, 

And how much less of vacant room inside. 

That which we're seeking with sagacious quest 

Exists, infallibly, commixed with things 

The void, the invisible inane. 

Right here 

I am compelled a question to expound, 

Forestalling something certain folk suppose, 

Lest it avail to lead thee off from truth: 

Waters (they say) before the shining breed 

Of the swift scaly creatures somehow give, 

And straightway open sudden liquid paths, 

Because the fishes leave behind them room 

To which at once the yielding billows stream. 

Thus things among themselves can yet be moved, 

And change their place, however full the Sum 

Received opinion, wholly false forsooth. 

For where can scaly creatures forward dart, 

Save where the waters give them room? Again, 

Where can the billows yield a way, so long 

As ever the fish are powerless to go? 

Thus either all bodies of motion are deprived, 

Or things contain admixture of a void 

Where each thing gets its start in moving on. 

Lastly, where after impact two broad bodies 

Suddenly spring apart, the air must crowd 

The whole new void between those bodies formed; 

But air, however it stream with hastening gusts, 

Can yet not fill the gap at once for first 

It makes for one place, ere diffused through all. 

And then, if haply any think this comes, 

When bodies spring apart, because the air 

Somehow condenses, wander they from truth: 

For then a void is formed, where none before; 

And, too, a void is filled which was before. 

Nor can air be condensed in such a wise; 

Nor, granting it could, without a void, I hold, 

It still could not contract upon itself 

And draw its parts together into one. 

Wherefore, despite demur and counterspeech, 

Confess thou must there is a void in things. 

And still I might by many an argument 

Here scrape together credence for my words. 

But for the keen eye these mere footprints serve, 

Whereby thou mayest know the rest thyself. 

As dogs full oft with noses on the ground, 

Find out the silent lairs, though hid in brush, 

Of beasts, the mountainrangers, when but once 

They scent the certain footsteps of the way, 

Thus thou thyself in themes like these alone 

Can hunt from thought to thought, and keenly wind 

Along even onward to the secret places 

And drag out truth. But, if thou loiter loth 

Or veer, however little, from the point, 

This I can promise, Memmius, for a fact: 

Such copious drafts my singing tongue shall pour 

From the large wellsprings of my plenished breast 

That much I dread slow age will steal and coil 

Along our members, and unloose the gates 


On the Nature of Things

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Page No 12


Of life within us, ere for thee my verse 

Hath put within thine ears the stores of proofs 

At hand for one soever question broached. 

Nothing Exists Per Se Except Atoms and the Void

But, now again to weave the tale begun, 

All nature, then, as selfsustained, consists 

Of twain of things: of bodies and of void 

In which they're set, and where they're moved around. 

For common instinct of our race declares 

That body of itself exists: unless 

This primal faith, deepfounded, fail us not, 

Naught will there be whereunto to appeal 

On things occult when seeking aught to prove 

By reasonings of mind. Again, without 

That place and room, which we do call the inane, 

Nowhere could bodies then be set, nor go 

Hither or thither at all as shown before. 

Besides, there's naught of which thou canst declare 

It lives disjoined from body, shut from void 

A kind of third in nature. For whatever 

Exists must be a somewhat; and the same, 

If tangible, however fight and slight, 

Will yet increase the count of body's sum, 

With its own augmentation big or small; 

But, if intangible and powerless ever 

To keep a thing from passing through itself 

On any side, 'twill be naught else but that 

Which we do call the empty, the inane. 

Again, whate'er exists, as of itself, 

Must either act or suffer action on it. 

Or else be that wherein things move and be: 

Naught, saving body, acts, is acted on; 

Naught but the inane can furnish room. And thus, 

Beside the inane and bodies, is no third 

Nature amid the number of all things 

Remainder none to fall at any time 

Under our senses, nor be seized and seen 

By any man through reasonings of mind. 

Name o'er creation with what names thou wilt, 

Thou'lt find but properties of those first twain, 

Or see but accidents those twain produce. 

A property is that which not at all 

Can be disjoined and severed from a thing 

Without a fatal dissolution: such, 

Weight to the rocks, heat to the fire, and flow 

To the wide waters, touch to corporal things, 

Intangibility to the viewless void. 

But state of slavery, pauperhood, and wealth, 

Freedom, and war, and concord, and all else 

Which come and go whilst Nature stands the same, 

We're wont, and rightly, to call accidents. 

Even time exists not of itself; but sense 

Reads out of things what happened long ago, 

What presses now, and what shall follow after: 

No man, we must admit, feels time itself, 

Disjoined from motion and repose of things. 


On the Nature of Things

Nothing Exists Per Se Except Atoms and the Void 10



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Page No 13


Thus, when they say there "is" the ravishment 

Of Princess Helen, "is" the siege and sack 

Of Trojan Town, look out, they force us not 

To admit these acts existent by themselves, 

Merely because those races of mankind 

(Of whom these acts were accidents) long since 

Irrevocable age has borne away: 

For all past actions may be said to be 

But accidents, in one way, of mankind, 

In other, of some region of the world. 

Add, too, had been no matter, and no room 

Wherein all things go on, the fire of love 

Upblown by that fair form, the glowing coal 

Under the Phrygian Alexander's breast, 

Had ne'er enkindled that renowned strife 

Of savage war, nor had the wooden horse 

Involved in flames old Pergama, by a birth 

At midnight of a brood of the Hellenes. 

And thus thou canst remark that every act 

At bottom exists not of itself, nor is 

As body is, nor has like name with void; 

But rather of sort more fitly to be called 

An accident of body, and of place 

Wherein all things go on. 

Character of the Atoms

Bodies, again, 

Are partly primal germs of things, and partly 

Unions deriving from the primal germs. 

And those which are the primal germs of things 

No power can quench; for in the end they conquer 

By their own solidness; though hard it be 

To think that aught in things has solid frame; 

For lightnings pass, no less than voice and shout, 

Through hedging walls of houses, and the iron 

Whitedazzles in the fire, and rocks will burn 

With exhalations fierce and burst asunder. 

Totters the rigid gold dissolved in heat; 

The ice of bronze melts conquered in the flame; 

Warmth and the piercing cold through silver seep, 

Since, with the cups held rightly in the hand, 

We oft feel both, as from above is poured 

The dew of waters between their shining sides: 

So true it is no solid form is found. 

But yet because true reason and nature of things 

Constrain us, come, whilst in few verses now 

I disentangle how there still exist 

Bodies of solid, everlasting frame 

The seeds of things, the primal germs we teach, 

Whence all creation around us came to be. 

First since we know a twofold nature exists, 

Of things, both twain and utterly unlike 

Body, and place in which an things go on 

Then each must be both for and through itself, 

And all unmixed: where'er be empty space, 

There body's not; and so where body bides, 

There not at an exists the void inane. 

Thus primal bodies are solid, without a void. 


On the Nature of Things

Character of the Atoms 11



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Page No 14


But since there's void in all begotten things, 

All solid matter must be round the same; 

Nor, by true reason canst thou prove aught hides 

And holds a void within its body, unless 

Thou grant what holds it be a solid. Know, 

That which can hold a void of things within 

Can be naught else than matter in union knit. 

Thus matter, consisting of a solid frame, 

Hath power to be eternal, though all else, 

Though all creation, be dissolved away. 

Again, were naught of empty and inane, 

The world were then a solid; as, without 

Some certain bodies to fill the places held, 

The world that is were but a vacant void. 

And so, infallibly, alternatewise 

Body and void are still distinguished, 

Since nature knows no wholly full nor void. 

There are, then, certain bodies, possessed of power 

To vary forever the empty and the full; 

And these can nor be sundered from without 

By beats and blows, nor from within be torn 

By penetration, nor be overthrown 

By any assault soever through the world 

For without void, naught can be crushed, it seems, 

Nor broken, nor severed by a cut in twain, 

Nor can it take the damp, or seeping cold 

Or piercing fire, those old destroyers three; 

But the more void within a thing, the more 

Entirely it totters at their sure assault. 

Thus if first bodies be, as I have taught, 

Solid, without a void, they must be then 

Eternal; and, if matter ne'er had been 

Eternal, long ere now had all things gone 

Back into nothing utterly, and all 

We see around from nothing had been born 

But since I taught above that naught can be 

From naught created, nor the once begotten 

To naught be summoned back, these primal germs 

Must have an immortality of frame. 

And into these must each thing be resolved, 

When comes its supreme hour, that thus there be 

At hand the stuff for plenishing the world. 

So primal germs have solid singleness 

Nor otherwise could they have been conserved 

Through aeons and infinity of time 

For the replenishment of wasted worlds. 

Once more, if Nature had given a scope for things 

To be forever broken more and more, 

By now the bodies of matter would have been 

So far reduced by breakings in old days 

That from them nothing could, at season fixed, 

Be born, and arrive its prime and of life. 

For, lo, each thing is quicker marred than made; 

And so what'er the long infinitude 

Of days and all forepassed time would now 

By this have broken and ruined and dissolved, 

That same could ne'er in all remaining time 

Be builded up for plenishing the world. 

But mark: infallibly a fixed bound 

Remaineth stablished 'gainst their breaking down; 


On the Nature of Things

Character of the Atoms 12



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Page No 15


Since we behold each thing soever renewed, 

And unto all, their seasons, after their kind, 

Wherein they arrive the flower of their age. 

Again, if bounds have not been set against 

The breaking down of this corporeal world, 

Yet must all bodies of whatever things 

Have still endured from everlasting time 

Unto this present, as not yet assailed 

By shocks of peril. But because the same 

Are, to thy thinking, of a nature frail, 

It ill accords that thus they could remain 

(As thus they do) through everlasting time, 

Vexed through the ages (as indeed they are) 

By the innumerable blows of chance. 

So in our programme of creation, mark 

How 'tis that, though the bodies of all stuff 

The ways whereby some things are fashioned soft 

Air, water, earth, and fiery exhalations 

And by what force they function and go on: 

The fact is founded in the void of things. 

But if the primal germs themselves be soft, 

Reason cannot be brought to bear to show 

The ways whereby may be created these 

Great crags of basalt and the during iron; 

For their whole nature will profoundly lack 

The first foundations of a solid frame. 

But powerful in old simplicity, 

Abide the solid, the primeval germs; 

And by their combinations more condensed, 

All objects can be tightly knit and bound 

And made to show unconquerable strength. 

Again, since all things kind by kind obtain 

Fixed bounds of growing and conserving life; 

Since Nature hath inviolably decreed 

What each can do, what each can never do; 

Since naught is changed, but all things so abide 

That ever the variegated birds reveal 

The spots or stripes peculiar to their kind, 

Spring after spring: thus surely all that is 

Must be composed of matter immutable. 

For if the primal germs in any wise 

Were open to conquest and to change, 'twould be 

Uncertain also what could come to birth 

And what could not, and by what law to each 

Its scope prescribed, its boundary stone that clings 

So deep in Time. Nor could the generations 

Kind after kind so often reproduce 

The nature, habits, motions, ways of life, 

Of their progenitors. 

And then again, 

Since there is ever an extreme bounding point 

Of that first body which our senses now 

Cannot perceive: That bounding point indeed 

Exists without all parts, a minimum 

Of nature, nor was e'er a thing apart, 

As of itself, nor shall hereafter be, 

Since 'tis itself still parcel of another, 

A first and single part, whence other parts 

And others similar in order lie 


On the Nature of Things

Character of the Atoms 13



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Page No 16


In a packed phalanx, filling to the full 

The nature of first body: being thus 

Not selfexistent, they must cleave to that 

From which in nowise they can sundered be. 

So primal germs have solid singleness, 

Which tightly packed and closely joined cohere 

By virtue of their minim particles 

No compound by mere union of the same; 

But strong in their eternal singleness, 

Nature, reserving them as seeds for things, 

Permitteth naught of rupture or decrease. 

Moreover, were there not a minimum, 

The smallest bodies would have infinites, 

Since then a halfofhalf could still be halved, 

With limitless division less and less. 

Then what the difference 'twixt the sum and least? 

None: for however infinite the sum, 

Yet even the smallest would consist the same 

Of infinite parts. But since true reason here 

Protests, denying that the mind can think it, 

Convinced thou must confess such things there are 

As have no parts, the minimums of nature. 

And since these are, likewise confess thou must 

That primal bodies are solid and eterne. 

Again, if Nature, creatress of all things, 

Were wont to force all things to be resolved 

Unto least parts, then would she not avail 

To reproduce from out them anything; 

Because whate'er is not endowed with parts 

Cannot possess those properties required 

Of generative stuff divers connections, 

Weights, blows, encounters, motions, whereby things 

Forevermore have being and go on. 

Confutation of Other Philosophers

And on such grounds it is that those who held 

The stuff of things is fire, and out of fire 

Alone the cosmic sum is formed, are seen 

Mightily from true reason to have lapsed. 

Of whom, chief leader to do battle, comes 

That Heraclitus, famous for dark speech 

Among the silly, not the serious Greeks 

Who search for truth. For dolts are ever prone 

That to bewonder and adore which hides 

Beneath distorted words, holding that true 

Which sweetly tickles in their stupid ears, 

Or which is rouged in finely finished phrase. 

For how, I ask, can things so varied be, 

If formed of fire, single and pure? No whit 

'Twould help for fire to be condensed or thinned, 

If all the parts of fire did still preserve 

But fire's own nature, seen before in gross. 

The heat were keener with the parts compressed, 

Milder, again when severed or dispersed 

And more than this thou canst conceive of naught 

That from such causes could become; much less 

Might earth's variety of things be born 


On the Nature of Things

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Page No 17


From any fires soever, dense or rare. 

This too: if they suppose a void in things, 

Then fires can be condensed and still left rare; 

But since they see such opposites of thought 

Rising against them, and are loath to leave 

An unmixed void in things, they fear the steep 

And lose the road of truth. Nor do they see, 

That, if from things we take away the void, 

All things are then condensed, and out of all 

One body made, which has no power to dart 

Swiftly from out itself not anything 

As throws the fire its light and warmth around, 

Giving thee proof its parts are not compact. 

But if perhaps they think, in other wise, 

Fires through their combinations can be quenched 

And change their substance, very well: behold, 

If fire shall spare to do so in no part, 

Then heat will perish utterly and all, 

And out of nothing would the world be formed. 

For change in anything from out its bounds 

Means instant death of that which was before; 

And thus a somewhat must persist unharmed 

Amid the world, lest all return to naught, 

And, born from naught, abundance thrive anew. 

Now since indeed there are those surest bodies 

Which keep their nature evermore the same, 

Upon whose going out and coming in 

And changed order things their nature change, 

And all corporeal substances transformed, 

'Tis thine to know those primal bodies, then, 

Are not of fire. For 'twere of no avail 

Should some depart and go away, and some 

Be added new, and some be changed in order, 

If still all kept their nature of old heat: 

For whatsoever they created then 

Would still in any case be only fire. 

The truth, I fancy, this: bodies there are 

Whose clashings, motions, order, posture, shapes 

Produce the fire and which, by order changed, 

Do change the nature of the thing produced, 

And are thereafter nothing like to fire 

Nor whatso else has power to send its bodies 

With impact touching on the senses' touch. 

Again, to say that all things are but fire 

And no true thing in number of all things 

Exists but fire, as this same fellow says, 

Seems crazed folly. For the man himself 

Against the senses by the senses fights, 

And hews at that through which is all belief, 

Through which indeed unto himself is known 

The thing he calls the fire. For, though he thinks 

The senses truly can perceive the fire, 

He thinks they cannot as regards all else, 

Which still are palpably as clear to sense 

To me a thought inept and crazy too. 

For whither shall we make appeal? for what 

More certain than our senses can there be 

Whereby to mark asunder error and truth? 

Besides, why rather do away with all, 

And wish to allow heat only, then deny 

The fire and still allow all else to be? 


On the Nature of Things

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Page No 18


Alike the madness either way it seems. 

Thus whosoe'er have held the stuff of things 

To be but fire, and out of fire the sum, 

And whosoever have constituted air 

As first beginning of begotten things, 

And all whoever have held that of itself 

Water alone contrives things, or that earth 

Createth all and changes things anew 

To divers natures, mightily they seem 

A long way to have wandered from the truth. 

Add, too, whoever make the primal stuff 

Twofold, by joining air to fire, and earth 

To water; add who deem that things can grow 

Out of the four fire, earth, and breath, and rain; 

As first Empedocles of Acragas, 

Whom that threecornered isle of all the lands 

Bore on her coasts, around which flows and flows 

In mighty bend and bay the Ionic seas, 

Splashing the brine from off their graygreen waves. 

Here, billowing onward through the narrow straits, 

Swift ocean cuts her boundaries from the shores 

Of the Italic mainland. Here the waste 

Charybdis; and here Aetna rumbles threats 

To gather anew such furies of its flames 

As with its force anew to vomit fires, 

Belched from its throat, and skyward bear anew 

Its lightnings' flash. And though for much she seem 

The mighty and the wondrous isle to men, 

Most rich in all good things, and fortified 

With generous strength of heroes, she hath ne'er 

Possessed within her aught of more renown, 

Nor aught more holy, wonderful, and dear 

Than this true man. Nay, ever so far and pure 

The lofty music of his breast divine 

Lifts up its voice and tells of glories found, 

That scarce he seems of human stock create. 

Yet he and those forementioned (known to be 

So far beneath him, less than he in all), 

Though, as discoverers of much goodly truth, 

They gave, as 'twere from out of the heart's own shrine,

Responses holier and soundlier based 

Than ever the Pythia pronounced for men 

From out the tripod and the Delphian laurel, 

Have still in matter of firstelements 

Made ruin of themselves, and, great men, great 

Indeed and heavy there for them the fall: 

First, because, banishing the void from things, 

They yet assign them motion, and allow 

Things soft and loosely textured to exist, 

As air, dew, fire, earth, animals, and grains, 

Without admixture of void amid their frame. 

Next, because, thinking there can be no end 

In cutting bodies down to less and less 

Nor pause established to their breaking up, 

They hold there is no minimum in things; 

Albeit we see the boundary point of aught 

Is that which to our senses seems its least, 

Whereby thou mayst conjecture, that, because 

The things thou canst not mark have boundary points, 


On the Nature of Things

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Page No 19


They surely have their minimums. Then, too, 

Since these philosophers ascribe to things 

Soft primal germs, which we behold to be 

Of birth and body mortal, thus, throughout, 

The sum of things must be returned to naught, 

And, born from naught, abundance thrive anew 

Thou seest how far each doctrine stands from truth. 

And, next, these bodies are among themselves 

In many ways poisons and foes to each, 

Wherefore their congress will destroy them quite 

Or drive asunder as we see in storms 

Rains, winds, and lightnings all asunder fly. 

Thus too, if all things are create of four, 

And all again dissolved into the four, 

How can the four be called the primal germs 

Of things, more than all things themselves be thought, 

By retroversion, primal germs of them? 

For ever alternately are both begot, 

With interchange of nature and aspect 

From immemorial time. But if percase 

Thou think'st the frame of fire and earth, the air, 

The dew of water can in such wise meet 

As not by mingling to resign their nature, 

From them for thee no world can be create 

No thing of breath, no stock or stalk of tree: 

In the wild congress of this varied heap 

Each thing its proper nature will display, 

And air will palpably be seen mixed up 

With earth together, unquenched heat with water. 

But primal germs in bringing things to birth 

Must have a latent, unseen quality, 

Lest some outstanding alien element 

Confuse and minish in the thing create 

Its proper being. 

But these men begin 

From heaven, and from its fires; and first they feign 

That fire will turn into the winds of air, 

Next, that from air the rain begotten is, 

And earth created out of rain, and then 

That all, reversely, are returned from earth 

The moisture first, then air thereafter heat 

And that these same ne'er cease in interchange, 

To go their ways from heaven to earth, from earth 

Unto the stars of the ethereal world 

Which in no wise at all the germs can do. 

Since an immutable somewhat still must be, 

Lest all things utterly be sped to naught; 

For change in anything from out its bounds 

Means instant death of that which was before. 

Wherefore, since those things, mentioned heretofore, 

Suffer a changed state, they must derive 

From others ever unconvertible, 

Lest an things utterly return to naught. 

Then why not rather presuppose there be 

Bodies with such a nature furnished forth 

That, if perchance they have created fire, 

Can still (by virtue of a few withdrawn, 

Or added few, and motion and order changed) 

Fashion the winds of air, and thus all things 

Forevermore be interchanged with all? 

"But facts in proof are manifest;" thou sayest, 

"That all things grow into the winds of air 


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Page No 20


And forth from earth are nourished, and unless 

The season favour at propitious hour 

With rains enough to set the trees areel 

Under the soak of bulking thunderheads, 

And sun, for its share, foster and give heat, 

No grains, nor trees, nor breathing things can grow." 

True and unless hard food and moisture soft 

Recruited man, his frame would waste away, 

And life dissolve from out his thews and bones; 

For out of doubt recruited and fed are we 

By certain things, as other things by others. 

Because in many ways the many germs 

Common to many things are mixed in things, 

No wonder 'tis that therefore divers things 

By divers things are nourished. And, again, 

Often it matters vastly with what others, 

In what positions the primordial germs 

Are bound together, and what motions, too, 

They give and get among themselves; for these 

Same germs do put together sky, sea, lands, 

Rivers, and sun, grains, trees, and breathing things, 

But yet commixed they are in divers modes 

With divers things, forever as they move. 

Nay, thou beholdest in our verses here 

Elements many, common to many worlds, 

Albeit thou must confess each verse, each word 

From one another differs both in sense 

And ring of sound so much the elements 

Can bring about by change of order alone. 

But those which are the primal germs of things 

Have power to work more combinations still, 

Whence divers things can be produced in turn. 

Now let us also take for scrutiny 

The homeomeria of Anaxagoras, 

So called by Greeks, for which our pauperspeech 

Yieldeth no name in the Italian tongue, 

Although the thing itself is not o'erhard 

For explanation. First, then, when he speaks 

Of this homeomeria of things, he thinks 

Bones to be sprung from littlest bones minute, 

And from minute and littlest flesh all flesh, 

And blood created out of drops of blood, 

Conceiving gold compact of grains of gold, 

And earth concreted out of bits of earth, 

Fire made of fires, and water out of waters, 

Feigning the like with all the rest of stuff. 

Yet he concedes not an void in things, 

Nor any limit to cutting bodies down. 

Wherefore to me he seems on both accounts 

To err no less than those we named before. 

Add too: these germs he feigns are far too frail 

If they be germs primordial furnished forth 

With but same nature as the things themselves, 

And travail and perish equally with those, 

And no rein curbs therm from annihilation. 

For which will last against the grip and crush 

Under the teeth of death? the fire? the moist? 

Or else the air? which then? the blood? the bones? 

No one, methinks, when every thing will be 

At bottom as mortal as whate'er we mark 

To perish by force before our gazing eyes. 


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Page No 21


But my appeal is to the proofs above 

That things cannot fall back to naught, nor yet 

From naught increase. And now again, since food 

Augments and nourishes the human frame, 

'Tis thine to know our veins and blood and bones 

And thews are formed of particles unlike 

To them in kind; or if they say all foods 

Are of mixed substance having in themselves 

Small bodies of thews, and bones, and also veins 

And particles of blood, then every food, 

Solid or liquid, must itself be thought 

As made and mixed of things unlike in kind 

Of bones, of thews, of ichor and of blood. 

Again, if all the bodies which upgrow 

From earth, are first within the earth, then earth 

Must be compound of alien substances earth. 

Which spring and bloom abroad from out the earth. 

Transfer the argument, and thou may'st use 

The selfsame words: if flame and smoke and ash 

Still lurk unseen within the wood, the wood 

Must be compound of alien substances 

Which spring from out the wood. 

Right here remains 

A certain slender means to skulk from truth, 

Which Anaxagoras takes unto himself, 

Who holds that all things lurk commixed with all 

While that one only comes to view, of which 

The bodies exceed in number all the rest, 

And lie more close to hand and at the fore 

A notion banished from true reason far. 

For then 'twere meet that kernels of the grains 

Should oft, when crunched between the might of stones, 

Give forth a sign of blood, or of aught else 

Which in our human frame is fed; and that 

Rock rubbed on rock should yield a gory ooze. 

Likewise the herbs ought oft to give forth drops 

Of sweet milk, flavoured like the uddered sheep's; 

Indeed we ought to find, when crumbling up 

The earthy clods, there herbs, and grains, and leaves, 

All sorts dispersed minutely in the soil; 

Lastly we ought to find in cloven wood 

Ashes and smoke and bits of fire there hid. 

But since fact teaches this is not the case, 

'Tis thine to know things are not mixed with things 

Thuswise; but seeds, common to many things, 

Commixed in many ways, must lurk in things. 

"But often it happens on skiey hills" thou sayest, 

"That neighbouring tops of lofty trees are rubbed 

One against other, smote by the blustering south, 

Till all ablaze with bursting flower of flame." 

Good sooth yet fire is not ingraft in wood, 

But many are the seeds of heat, and when 

Rubbing together they together flow, 

They start the conflagrations in the forests. 

Whereas if flame, already fashioned, lay 

Stored up within the forests, then the fires 

Could not for any time be kept unseen, 

But would be laying all the wildwood waste 

And burning all the boscage. Now dost see 

(Even as we said a little space above) 

How mightily it matters with what others, 

In what positions these same primal germs 


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Page No 22


Are bound together? And what motions, too, 

They give and get among themselves? how, hence, 

The same, if altered 'mongst themselves, can body 

Both igneous and ligneous objects forth 

Precisely as these words themselves are made 

By somewhat altering their elements, 

Although we mark with name indeed distinct 

The igneous from the ligneous. Once again, 

If thou suppose whatever thou beholdest, 

Among all visible objects, cannot be, 

Unless thou feign bodies of matter endowed 

With a like nature, by thy vain device 

For thee will perish all the germs of things: 

'Twill come to pass they'll laugh aloud, like men, 

Shaken asunder by a spasm of mirth, 

Or moisten with salty teardrops cheeks and chins. 

The Infinity of the Universe

Now learn of what remains! More keenly hear! 

And for myself, my mind is not deceived 

How dark it is: But the large hope of praise 

Hath strook with pointed thyrsus through my heart; 

On the same hour hath strook into my breast 

Sweet love of the Muses, wherewith now instinct, 

I wander afield, thriving in sturdy thought, 

Through unpathed haunts of the Pierides, 

Trodden by step of none before. I joy 

To come on undefiled fountains there, 

To drain them deep; I joy to pluck new flowers, 

To seek for this my head a signal crown 

From regions where the Muses never yet 

Have garlanded the temples of a man: 

First, since I teach concerning mighty things, 

And go right on to loose from round the mind 

The tightened coils of dread religion; 

Next, since, concerning themes so dark, I frame 

Songs so pellucid, touching all throughout 

Even with the Muses' charm which, as 'twould seem, 

Is not without a reasonable ground: 

But as physicians, when they seek to give 

Young boys the nauseous wormwood, first do touch 

The brim around the cup with the sweet juice 

And yellow of the boney, in order that 

The thoughtless age of boyhood be cajoled 

As far as the lips, and meanwhile swallow down 

The wormwood's bitter draught, and, though befooled 

Be yet not merely duped, but rather thus 

Grow strong again with recreated health: 

So now I too (since this my doctrine seems 

In general somewhat woeful unto those 

Who've had it not in hand, and since the crowd 

Starts back from it in horror) have desired 

To expound our doctrine unto thee in song 

Softspeaking and Pierian, and, as 'twere, 

To touch it with sweet honey of the Muse 

If by such method haply I might hold 

The mind of thee upon these lines of ours, 

Till thou see through the nature of all things, 


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Page No 23


And how exists the interwoven frame. 

But since I've taught that bodies of matter, made 

Completely solid, hither and thither fly 

Forevermore unconquered through all time, 

Now come, and whether to the sum of them 

There be a limit or be none, for thee 

Let us unfold; likewise what has been found 

To be the wide inane, or room, or space 

Wherein all things soever do go on, 

Let us examine if it finite be 

All and entire, or reach unmeasured round 

And downward an illimitable profound. 

Thus, then, the All that is is limited 

In no one region of its onward paths, 

For then 'tmust have forever its beyond. 

And a beyond 'tis seen can never be 

For aught, unless still further on there be 

A somewhat somewhere that may bound the same 

So that the thing be seen still on to where 

The nature of sensation of that thing 

Can follow it no longer. Now because 

Confess we must there's naught beside the sum, 

There's no beyond, and so it lacks all end. 

It matters nothing where thou post thyself, 

In whatsoever regions of the same; 

Even any place a man has set him down 

Still leaves about him the unbounded all 

Outward in all directions; or, supposing 

moment the all of space finite to be, 

If some one farthest traveller runs forth 

Unto the extreme coasts and throws ahead 

A flying spear, is't then thy wish to think 

It goes, hurled off amain, to where 'twas sent 

And shoots afar, or that some object there 

Can thwart and stop it? For the one or other 

Thou must admit; and take. Either of which 

Shuts off escape for thee, and does compel 

That thou concede the all spreads everywhere, 

Owning no confines. Since whether there be 

Aught that may block and check it so it comes 

Not where 'twas sent, nor lodges in its goal, 

Or whether borne along, in either view 

'Thas started not from any end. And so 

I'll follow on, and whereso'er thou set 

The extreme coasts, I'll query, "what becomes 

Thereafter of thy spear?" 'Twill come to pass 

That nowhere can a world'send be, and that 

The chance for further flight prolongs forever 

The flight itself. Besides, were all the space 

Of the totality and sum shut in 

With fixed coasts, and bounded everywhere, 

Then would the abundance of world's matter flow 

Together by solid weight from everywhere 

Still downward to the bottom of the world, 

Nor aught could happen under cope of sky, 

Nor could there be a sky at all or sun 

Indeed, where matter all one heap would lie, 

By having settled during infinite time. 

But in reality, repose is given 

Unto no bodies 'mongst the elements, 


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Page No 24


Because there is no bottom whereunto 

They might, as 'twere, together flow, and where 

They might take up their undisturbed abodes. 

In endless motion everything goes on 

Forevermore; out of all regions, even 

Out of the pit below, from forth the vast, 

Are hurtled bodies evermore supplied. 

The nature of room, the space of the abyss 

Is such that even the flashing thunderbolts 

Can neither speed upon their courses through, 

Gliding across eternal tracts of time, 

Nor, further, bring to pass, as on they run, 

That they may bate their journeying one whit: 

Such huge abundance spreads for things around 

Room off to every quarter, without end. 

Lastly, before our very eyes is seen 

Thing to bound thing: air hedges hill from hill, 

And mountain walls hedge air; land ends the sea, 

And sea in turn all lands; but for the All 

Truly is nothing which outside may bound. 

That, too, the sum of things itself may not 

Have power to fix a measure of its own, 

Great Nature guards, she who compels the void 

To bound all body, as body all the void, 

Thus rendering by these alternates the whole 

An infinite; or else the one or other, 

Being unbounded by the other, spreads, 

Even by its single nature, ne'ertheless 

Immeasurably forth.... 

Nor sea, nor earth, nor shining vaults of sky, 

Nor breed of mortals, nor holy limbs of gods 

Could keep their place least portion of an hour: 

For, driven apart from out its meetings fit, 

The stock of stuff, dissolved, would be borne 

Along the illimitable inane afar, 

Or rather, in fact, would never have once combined 

And given a birth to aught, since, scattered wide, 

It could not be united. For of truth 

Neither by counsel did the primal germs 

'Stablish themselves, as by keen act of mind, 

Each in its proper place; nor did they make, 

Forsooth, a compact how each germ should move; 

But since, being many and changed in many modes 

Along the All, they're driven abroad and vexed 

By blow on blow, even from all time of old, 

They thus at last, after attempting all 

The kinds of motion and conjoining, come 

Into those great arrangements out of which 

This sum of things established is create, 

By which, moreover, through the mighty years, 

It is preserved, when once it has been thrown 

Into the proper motions, bringing to pass 

That ever the streams refresh the greedy main 

With riverwaves abounding, and that earth, 

Lapped in warm exhalations of the sun, 

Renews her broods, and that the lusty race 

Of breathing creatures bears and blooms, and that 

The gliding fires of ether are alive 

What still the primal germs nowise could do, 

Unless from out the infinite of space 

Could come supply of matter, whence in season 

They're wont whatever losses to repair. 


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Page No 25


For as the nature of breathing creatures wastes, 

Losing its body, when deprived of food: 

So all things have to be dissolved as soon 

As matter, diverted by what means soever 

From off its course, shall fail to be on hand. 

Nor can the blows from outward still conserve, 

On every side, whatever sum of a world 

Has been united in a whole. They can 

Indeed, by frequent beating, check a part, 

Till others arriving may fulfil the sum; 

But meanwhile often are they forced to spring 

Rebounding back, and, as they spring, to yield, 

Unto those elements whence a world derives, 

Room and a time for flight, permitting them 

To be from off the massy union borne 

Free and afar. Wherefore, again, again: 

Needs must there come a many for supply; 

And also, that the blows themselves shall be 

Unfailing ever, must there ever be 

An infinite force of matter all sides round. 

And in these problems, shrink, my Memmius, far 

From yielding faith to that notorious talk: 

That all things inward to the centre press; 

And thus the nature of the world stands firm 

With never blows from outward, nor can be 

Nowhere disparted since all height and depth 

Have always inward to the centre pressed 

(If thou art ready to believe that aught 

Itself can rest upon itself ); or that 

The ponderous bodies which be under earth 

Do all press upwards and do come to rest 

Upon the earth, in some ways upside down, 

Like to those images of things we see 

At present through the waters. They contend, 

With like procedure, that all breathing things 

Head downward roam about, and yet cannot 

Tumble from earth to realms of sky below, 

No more than these our bodies wing away 

Spontaneously to vaults of sky above; 

That, when those creatures look upon the sun, 

We view the constellations of the night; 

And that with us the seasons of the sky 

They thus alternately divide, and thus 

Do pass the night coequal to our days, 

But a vain error has given these dreams to fools, 

What they've embraced with reasoning perverse 

For centre none can be where world is still 

Boundless, nor yet, if now a centre were, 

Could aught take there a fixed position more 

Than for some other cause 'tmight be dislodged. 

For all of room and space we call the void 

Must both through centre and noncentre yield 

Alike to weights where'er their motions tend. 

Nor is there any place, where, when they've come, 

Bodies can be at standstill in the void, 

Deprived of force of weight; nor yet may void 

Furnish support to any, nay, it must, 

True to its bent of nature, still give way. 

Thus in such manner not all can things 

Be held in union, as if overcome 

By craving for a centre. 


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Page No 26


But besides, 

Seeing they feign that not all bodies press 

To centre inward, rather only those 

Of earth and water (liquid of the sea, 

And the big billows from the mountain slopes, 

And whatsoever are encased, as 'twere, 

In earthen body), contrariwise, they teach 

How the thin air, and with it the hot fire, 

Is borne asunder from the centre, and how, 

For this all ether quivers with bright stars, 

And the sun's flame along the blue is fed 

(Because the heat, from out the centre flying, 

All gathers there), and how, again, the boughs 

Upon the treetops could not sprout their leaves, 

Unless, little by little, from out the earth 

For each were nutriment... 

Lest, after the manner of the winged flames, 

The ramparts of the world should flee away, 

Dissolved amain throughout the mighty void, 

And lest all else should likewise follow after, 

Aye, lest the thundering vaults of heaven should burst 

And splinter upward, and the earth forthwith 

Withdraw from under our feet, and all its bulk, 

Among its mingled wrecks and those of heaven, 

With slipping asunder of the primal seeds, 

Should pass, along the immeasurable inane, 

Away forever, and, that instant, naught 

Of wrack and remnant would be left, beside 

The desolate space, and germs invisible. 

For on whatever side thou deemest first 

The primal bodies lacking, lo, that side 

Will be for things the very door of death: 

Wherethrough the throng of matter all will dash, 

Out and abroad. 

These points, if thou wilt ponder, 

Then, with but paltry trouble led along... 

For one thing after other will grow clear, 

Nor shall the blind night rob thee of the road, 

To hinder thy gaze on Nature's Farthestforth. 

Thus things for things shall kindle torches new. 

BOOK II

Proem

'Tis sweet, when, down the mighty main, the winds 

Roll up its waste of waters, from the land 

To watch another's labouring anguish far, 

Not that we joyously delight that man 

Should thus be smitten, but because 'tis sweet 

To mark what evils we ourselves be spared; 

'Tis sweet, again, to view the mighty strife 

Of armies embattled yonder o'er the plains, 

Ourselves no sharers in the peril; but naught 


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There is more goodly than to hold the high 

Serene plateaus, well fortressed by the wise, 

Whence thou may'st look below on other men 

And see them ev'rywhere wand'ring, all dispersed 

In their lone seeking for the road of life; 

Rivals in genius, or emulous in rank, 

Pressing through days and nights with hugest toil 

For summits of power and mastery of the world. 

O wretched minds of men! O blinded hearts! 

In how great perils, in what darks of life 

Are spent the human years, however brief! 

O not to see that Nature for herself 

Barks after nothing, save that pain keep off, 

Disjoined from the body, and that mind enjoy 

Delightsome feeling, far from care and fear! 

Therefore we see that our corporeal life 

Needs little, altogether, and only such 

As takes the pain away, and can besides 

Strew underneath some number of delights. 

More grateful 'tis at times (for Nature craves 

No artifice nor luxury), if forsooth 

There be no golden images of boys 

Along the halls, with right hands holding out 

The lamps ablaze, the lights for evening feasts, 

And if the house doth glitter not with gold 

Nor gleam with silver, and to the lyre resound 

No fretted and gilded ceilings overhead, 

Yet still to lounge with friends in the soft grass 

Beside a river of water, underneath 

A big tree's boughs, and merrily to refresh 

Our frames, with no vast outlay most of all 

If the weather is laughing and the times of the year 

Besprinkle the green of the grass around with flowers. 

Nor yet the quicker will hot fevers go, 

If on a pictured tapestry thou toss, 

Or purple robe, than if 'tis thine to lie 

Upon the poor man's bedding. Wherefore, since 

Treasure, nor rank, nor glory of a reign 

Avail us naught for this our body, thus 

Reckon them likewise nothing for the mind: 

Save then perchance, when thou beholdest forth 

Thy legions swarming round the Field of Mars, 

Rousing a mimic warfare either side 

Strengthened with large auxiliaries and horse, 

Alike equipped with arms, alike inspired; 

Or save when also thou beholdest forth 

Thy fleets to swarm, deploying down the sea: 

For then, by such bright circumstance abashed, 

Religion pales and flees thy mind; O then 

The fears of death leave heart so free of care. 

But if we note how all this pomp at last 

Is but a drollery and a mocking sport, 

And of a truth man's dread, with cares at heels, 

Dreads not these sounds of arms, these savage swords 

But among kings and lords of all the world 

Mingles undaunted, nor is overawed 

By gleam of gold nor by the splendour bright 

Of purple robe, canst thou then doubt that this 

Is aught, but power of thinking? when, besides 

The whole of life but labours in the dark. 

For just as children tremble and fear all 

In the viewless dark, so even we at times 


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Page No 28


Dread in the light so many things that be 

No whit more fearsome than what children feign, 

Shuddering, will be upon them in the dark. 

This terror then, this darkness of the mind, 

Not sunrise with its flaring spokes of light, 

Nor glittering arrows of morning can disperse, 

But only Nature's aspect and her law. 

Atomic Motions

Now come: I will untangle for thy steps 

Now by what motions the begetting bodies 

Of the worldstuff beget the varied world, 

And then forever resolve it when begot, 

And by what force they are constrained to this, 

And what the speed appointed unto them 

Wherewith to travel down the vast inane: 

Do thou remember to yield thee to my words. 

For truly matter coheres not, crowds not tight, 

Since we behold each thing to wane away, 

And we observe how all flows on and off, 

As 'twere, with ageold time, and from our eyes 

How eld withdraws each object at the end, 

Albeit the sum is seen to bide the same, 

Unharmed, because these motes that leave each thing 

Diminish what they part from, but endow 

With increase those to which in turn they come, 

Constraining these to wither in old age, 

And those to flower at the prime (and yet 

Biding not long among them). Thus the sum 

Forever is replenished, and we live 

As mortals by eternal give and take. 

The nations wax, the nations wane away; 

In a brief space the generations pass, 

And like to runners hand the lamp of life 

One unto other. 

But if thou believe 

That the primordial germs of things can stop, 

And in their stopping give new motions birth, 

Afar thou wanderest from the road of truth. 

For since they wander through the void inane, 

All the primordial germs of things must needs 

Be borne along, either by weight their own, 

Or haply by another's blow without. 

For, when, in their incessancy so oft 

They meet and clash, it comes to pass amain 

They leap asunder, face to face: not strange 

Being most hard, and solid in their weights, 

And naught opposing motion, from behind. 

And that more clearly thou perceive how all 

These mites of matter are darted round about, 

Recall to mind how nowhere in the sum 

Of All exists a bottom, nowhere is 

A realm of rest for primal bodies; since 

(As amply shown and proved by reason sure) 

Space has no bound nor measure, and extends 

Unmetered forth in all directions round. 

Since this stands certain, thus 'tis out of doubt 

No rest is rendered to the primal bodies 


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Along the unfathomable inane; but rather, 

Inveterately plied by motions mixed, 

Some, at their jamming, bound aback and leave 

Huge gaps between, and some from off the blow 

Are hurried about with spaces small between. 

And all which, brought together with slight gaps, 

In more condensed union bound aback, 

Linked by their own all intertangled shapes, 

These form the irrefragable roots of rocks 

And the brute bulks of iron, and what else 

Is of their kind... 

The rest leap far asunder, far recoil, 

Leaving huge gaps between: and these supply 

For us thin air and splendourlights of the sun. 

And many besides wander the mighty void 

Cast back from unions of existing things, 

Nowhere accepted in the universe, 

And nowise linked in motions to the rest. 

And of this fact (as I record it here) 

An image, a type goes on before our eyes 

Present each moment; for behold whenever 

The sun's light and the rays, let in, pour down 

Across dark halls of houses: thou wilt see 

The many mites in many a manner mixed 

Amid a void in the very light of the rays, 

And battling on, as in eternal strife, 

And in battalions contending without halt, 

In meetings, partings, harried up and down. 

From this thou mayest conjecture of what sort 

The ceaseless tossing of primordial seeds 

Amid the mightier void at least so far 

As small affair can for a vaster serve, 

And by example put thee on the spoor 

Of knowledge. For this reason too 'tis fit 

Thou turn thy mind the more unto these bodies 

Which here are witnessed tumbling in the light: 

Namely, because such tumblings are a sign 

That motions also of the primal stuff 

Secret and viewless lurk beneath, behind. 

For thou wilt mark here many a speck, impelled 

By viewless blows, to change its little course, 

And beaten backwards to return again, 

Hither and thither in all directions round. 

Lo, all their shifting movement is of old, 

From the primeval atoms; for the same 

Primordial seeds of things first move of self, 

And then those bodies built of unions small 

And nearest, as it were, unto the powers 

Of the primeval atoms, are stirred up 

By impulse of those atoms' unseen blows, 

And these thereafter goad the next in size; 

Thus motion ascends from the primevals on, 

And stage by stage emerges to our sense, 

Until those objects also move which we 

Can mark in sunbeams, though it not appears 

What blows do urge them. 

Herein wonder not 

How 'tis that, while the seeds of things are all 

Moving forever, the sum yet seems to stand 

Supremely still, except in cases where 

A thing shows motion of its frame as whole. 

For far beneath the ken of senses lies 


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The nature of those ultimates of the world; 

And so, since those themselves thou canst not see, 

Their motion also must they veil from men 

For mark, indeed, how things we can see, oft 

Yet hide their motions, when afar from us 

Along the distant landscape. Often thus, 

Upon a hillside will the woolly flocks 

Be cropping their goodly food and creeping about 

Whither the summons of the grass, begemmed 

With the fresh dew, is calling, and the lambs 

Well filled, are frisking, locking horns in sport: 

Yet all for us seem blurred and blent afar 

A glint of white at rest on a green hill. 

Again, when mighty legions, marching round, 

Fill all the quarters of the plains below, 

Rousing a mimic warfare, there the sheen 

Shoots up the sky, and all the fields about 

Glitter with brass, and from beneath, a sound 

Goes forth from feet of stalwart soldiery, 

And mountain walls, smote by the shouting, send 

The voices onward to the stars of heaven, 

And hither and thither darts the cavalry, 

And of a sudden down the midmost fields 

Charges with onset stout enough to rock 

The solid earth: and yet some post there is 

Up the high mountains, viewed from which they seem 

To stand a gleam at rest along the plains. 

Now what the speed to matter's atoms given 

Thou mayest in few, my Memmius, learn from this: 

When first the dawn is sprinkling with new light 

The lands, and all the breed of birds abroad 

Flit round the trackless forests, with liquid notes 

Filling the regions along the mellow air, 

We see 'tis forthwith manifest to man 

How suddenly the risen sun is wont 

At such an hour to overspread and clothe 

The whole with its own splendour; but the sun's 

Warm exhalations and this serene light 

Travel not down an empty void; and thus 

They are compelled more slowly to advance, 

Whilst, as it were, they cleave the waves of air; 

Nor one by one travel these particles 

Of the warm exhalations, but are all 

Entangled and enmassed, whereby at once 

Each is restrained by each, and from without 

Checked, till compelled more slowly to advance. 

But the primordial atoms with their old 

Simple solidity, when forth they travel 

Along the empty void, all undelayed 

By aught outside them there, and they, each one 

Being one unit from nature of its parts, 

Are borne to that one place on which they strive 

Still to lay hold, must then, beyond a doubt, 

Outstrip in speed, and be more swiftly borne 

Than light of sun, and over regions rush, 

Of space much vaster, in the selfsame time 

The sun's effulgence widens round the sky. 

Nor to pursue the atoms one by one, 

To see the law whereby each thing goes on. 

But some men, ignorant of matter, think, 


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Page No 31


Opposing this, that not without the gods, 

In such adjustment to our human ways, 

Can Nature change the seasons of the years, 

And bring to birth the grains and all of else 

To which divine Delight, the guide of life, 

Persuades mortality and leads it on, 

That, through her artful blandishments of love, 

It propagate the generations still, 

Lest humankind should perish. When they feign 

That gods have stablished all things but for man, 

They seem in all ways mightily to lapse 

From reason's truth: for ev'n if ne'er I knew 

What seeds primordial are, yet would I dare 

This to affirm, ev'n from deep judgment based 

Upon the ways and conduct of the skies 

This to maintain by many a fact besides 

That in no wise the nature of the world 

For us was builded by a power divine 

So great the faults it stands encumbered with: 

The which, my Memmius, later on, for thee 

We will clear up. Now as to what remains 

Concerning motions we'll unfold our thought. 

Now is the place, meseems, in these affairs 

To prove for thee this too: nothing corporeal 

Of its own force can e'er be upward borne, 

Or upward go nor let the bodies of flames 

Deceive thee here: for they engendered are 

With urge to upwards, taking thus increase, 

Whereby grow upwards shining grains and trees, 

Though all the weight within them downward bears. 

Nor, when the fires will leap from under round 

The roofs of houses, and swift flame laps up 

Timber and beam, 'tis then to be supposed 

They act of own accord, no force beneath 

To urge them up. 'Tis thus that blood, discharged 

From out our bodies, spurts its jets aloft 

And spatters gore. And hast thou never marked 

With what a force the water will disgorge 

Timber and beam? The deeper, straight and down, 

We push them in, and, many though we be, 

The more we press with main and toil, the more 

The water vomits up and flings them back, 

That, more than half their length, they there emerge, 

Rebounding. Yet we never doubt, meseems, 

That all the weight within them downward bears 

Through empty void. Well, in like manner, flames 

Ought also to be able, when pressed out, 

Through winds of air to rise aloft, even though 

The weight within them strive to draw them down. 

Hast thou not seen, sweeping so far and high, 

The meteors, midnight flambeaus of the sky, 

How after them they draw long trails of flame 

Wherever Nature gives a thoroughfare? 

How stars and constellations drop to earth, 

Seest not? Nay, too, the sun from peak of heaven 

Sheds round to every quarter its large heat, 

And sows the newploughed intervales with light: 

Thus also sun's heat downward tends to earth. 

Athwart the rain thou seest the lightning fly; 

Now here, now there, bursting from out the clouds, 

The fires dash zigzag and that flaming power 

Falls likewise down to earth. 


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In these affairs 

We wish thee also well aware of this: 

The atoms, as their own weight bears them down 

Plumb through the void, at scarce determined times, 

In scarce determined places, from their course 

Decline a little call it, so to speak, 

Mere changed trend. For were it not their wont 

Thuswise to swerve, down would they fall, each one, 

Like drops of rain, through the unbottomed void; 

And then collisions ne'er could be nor blows 

Among the primal elements; and thus 

Nature would never have created aught. 

But, if perchance be any that believe 

The heavier bodies, as more swiftly borne 

Plumb down the void, are able from above 

To strike the lighter, thus engendering blows 

Able to cause those procreant motions, far 

From highways of true reason they retire. 

For whatsoever through the waters fall, 

Or through thin air, must their descent, 

Each after its weight on this account, because 

Both bulk of water and the subtle air 

By no means can retard each thing alike, 

But give more quick before the heavier weight; 

But contrariwise the empty void cannot, 

On any side, at any time, to aught 

Oppose resistance, but will ever yield, 

True to its bent of nature. Wherefore all, 

With equal speed, though equal not in weight, 

Must rush, borne downward through the still inane. 

Thus ne'er at all have heavier from above 

Been swift to strike the lighter, gendering strokes 

Which cause those divers motions, by whose means 

Nature transacts her work. And so I say, 

The atoms must a little swerve at times 

But only the least, lest we should seem to feign 

Motions oblique, and fact refute us there. 

For this we see forthwith is manifest: 

Whatever the weight, it can't obliquely go, 

Down on its headlong journey from above, 

At least so far as thou canst mark; but who 

Is there can mark by sense that naught can swerve 

At all aside from off its road's straight line? 

Again, if ev'r all motions are colinked, 

And from the old ever arise the new 

In fixed order, and primordial seeds 

Produce not by their swerving some new start 

Of motion to sunder the covenants of fate, 

That cause succeed not cause from everlasting, 

Whence this free will for creatures o'er the lands, 

Whence is it wrested from the fates, this will 

Whereby we step right forward where desire 

Leads each man on, whereby the same we swerve 

In motions, not as at some fixed time, 

Nor at some fixed line of space, but where 

The mind itself has urged? For out of doubt 

In these affairs 'tis each man's will itself 

That gives the start, and hence throughout our limbs 

Incipient motions are diffused. Again, 

Dost thou not see, when, at a point of time, 


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The bars are opened, how the eager strength 

Of horses cannot forward break as soon 

As pants their mind to do? For it behooves 

That all the stock of matter, through the frame, 

Be roused, in order that, through every joint, 

Aroused, it press and follow mind's desire; 

So thus thou seest initial motion's gendered 

From out the heart, aye, verily, proceeds 

First from the spirit's will, whence at the last 

'Tis given forth through joints and body entire. 

Quite otherwise it is, when forth we move, 

Impelled by a blow of another's mighty powers 

And mighty urge; for then 'tis clear enough 

All matter of our total body goes, 

Hurried along, against our own desire 

Until the will has pulled upon the reins 

And checked it back, throughout our members all; 

At whose arbitrament indeed sometimes 

The stock of matter's forced to change its path, 

Throughout our members and throughout our joints, 

And, after being forward cast, to be 

Reined up, whereat it settles back again. 

So seest thou not, how, though external force 

Drive men before, and often make them move, 

Onward against desire, and headlong snatched, 

Yet is there something in these breasts of ours 

Strong to combat, strong to withstand the same? 

Wherefore no less within the primal seeds 

Thou must admit, besides all blows and weight, 

Some other cause of motion, whence derives 

This power in us inborn, of some free act. 

Since naught from nothing can become, we see. 

For weight prevents all things should come to pass 

Through blows, as 'twere, by some external force; 

But that man's mind itself in all it does 

Hath not a fixed necessity within, 

Nor is not, like a conquered thing, compelled 

To bear and suffer, this state comes to man 

From that slight swervement of the elements 

In no fixed line of space, in no fixed time. 

Nor ever was the stock of stuff more crammed, 

Nor ever, again, sundered by bigger gaps: 

For naught gives increase and naught takes away; 

On which account, just as they move today, 

The elemental bodies moved of old 

And shall the same hereafter evermore. 

And what was wont to be begot of old 

Shall be begotten under selfsame terms 

And grow and thrive in power, so far as given 

To each by Nature's changeless, old decrees. 

The sum of things there is no power can change, 

For naught exists outside, to which can flee 

Out of the world matter of any kind, 

Nor forth from which a fresh supply can spring, 

Break in upon the founded world, and change 

Whole nature of things, and turn their motions about. 


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Atomic Forms and Their Combinations

Now come, and next hereafter apprehend 

What sorts, how vastly different in form, 

How varied in multitudinous shapes they are 

These old beginnings of the universe; 

Not in the sense that only few are furnished 

With one like form, but rather not at all 

In general have they likeness each with each, 

No marvel: since the stock of them's so great 

That there's no end (as I have taught) nor sum, 

They must indeed not one and all be marked 

By equal outline and by shape the same. 

Moreover, humankind, and the mute flocks 

Of scaly creatures swimming in the streams, 

And joyous herds around, and all the wild, 

And all the breeds of birds both those that teem 

In gladsome regions of the waterhaunts, 

About the riverbanks and springs and pools, 

And those that throng, flitting from tree to tree, 

Through trackless woods Go, take which one thou wilt, 

In any kind: thou wilt discover still 

Each from the other still unlike in shape. 

Nor in no other wise could offspring know 

Mother, nor mother offspring which we see 

They yet can do, distinguished one from other, 

No less than human beings, by clear signs. 

Thus oft before fair temples of the gods, 

Beside the incenseburning altars slain, 

Drops down the yearling calf, from out its breast 

Breathing warm streams of blood; the orphaned mother, 

Ranging meanwhile green woodland pastures round, 

Knows well the footprints, pressed by cloven hoofs, 

With eyes regarding every spot about, 

For sight somewhere of youngling gone from her; 

And, stopping short, filleth the leafy lanes 

With her complaints; and oft she seeks again 

Within the stall, pierced by her yearning still. 

Nor tender willows, nor dewquickened grass, 

Nor the loved streams that glide along low banks, 

Can lure her mind and turn the sudden pain; 

Nor other shapes of calves that graze thereby 

Distract her mind or lighten pain the least 

So keen her search for something known and hers. 

Moreover, tender kids with bleating throats 

Do know their horned dams, and butting lambs 

The flocks of sheep, and thus they patter on, 

Unfailingly each to its proper teat, 

As Nature intends. Lastly, with any grain, 

Thou'lt see that no one kernel in one kind 

Is so far like another, that there still 

Is not in shapes some difference running through. 

By a like law we see how earth is pied 

With shells and conchs, where, with soft waves, the sea 

Beats on the thirsty sands of curving shores. 

Wherefore again, again, since seeds of things 

Exist by nature, nor were wrought with hands 

After a fixed pattern of one other, 

They needs must flitter to and fro with shapes


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In types dissimilar to one another. 

Easy enough by thought of mind to solve 

Why fires of lightning more can penetrate 

Than these of ours from pitchpine born on earth. 

For thou canst say lightning's celestial fire, 

So subtle, is formed of figures finer far, 

And passes thus through holes which this our fire, 

Born from the wood, created from the pine, 

Cannot. Again, light passes through the horn 

On the lantern's side, while rain is dashed away. 

And why? unless those bodies of light should be 

Finer than those of water's genial showers. 

We see how quickly through a colander 

The wines will flow; how, on the other hand, 

The sluggish oliveoil delays: no doubt, 

Because 'tis wrought of elements more large, 

Or else more crook'd and intertangled. Thus 

It comes that the primordials cannot be 

So suddenly sundered one from other, and seep, 

One through each several hole of anything. 

And note, besides, that liquor of honey or milk 

Yields in the mouth agreeable taste to tongue, 

Whilst nauseous wormwood, pungent centaury, 

With their foul flavour set the lips awry; 

Thus simple 'tis to see that whatsoever 

Can touch the senses pleasingly are made 

Of smooth and rounded elements, whilst those 

Which seem the bitter and the sharp, are held 

Entwined by elements more crook'd, and so 

Are wont to tear their ways into our senses, 

And rend our body as they enter in. 

In short all good to sense, all bad to touch, 

Being upbuilt of figures so unlike, 

Are mutually at strife lest thou suppose 

That the shrill rasping of a squeaking saw 

Consists of elements as smooth as song 

Which, waked by nimble fingers, on the strings 

The sweet musicians fashion; or suppose 

That sameshaped atoms through men's nostrils pierce 

When foul cadavers burn, as when the stage 

Is with Cilician saffron sprinkled fresh, 

And the altar near exhales Panchaean scent; 

Or hold as of like seed the goodly hues 

Of things which feast our eyes, as those which sting 

Against the smarting pupil and draw tears, 

Or show, with gruesome aspect, grim and vile. 

For never a shape which charms our sense was made 

Without some elemental smoothness; whilst 

Whate'er is harsh and irksome has been framed 

Still with some roughness in its elements. 

Some, too, there are which justly are supposed 

To be nor smooth nor altogether hooked, 

With bended barbs, but slightly angledout, 

To tickle rather than to wound the sense 

And of which sort is the salt tartar of wine 

And flavours of the gummed elecampane. 

Again, that glowing fire and icy rime 

Are fanged with teeth unlike whereby to sting 

Our body's sense, the touch of each gives proof. 

For touch by sacred majesties of gods! 


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Touch is indeed the body's only sense 

Be't that something infromoutward works, 

Be't that something in the body born 

Wounds, or delighteth as it passes out 

Along the procreant paths of Aphrodite; 

Or be't the seeds by some collision whirl 

Disordered in the body and confound 

By tumult and confusion all the sense 

As thou mayst find, if haply with the hand 

Thyself thou strike thy body's any part. 

On which account, the elemental forms 

Must differ widely, as enabled thus 

To cause diverse sensations. 

And, again, 

What seems to us the hardened and condensed 

Must be of atoms among themselves more hooked, 

Be held compacted deep within, as 'twere 

By branchlike atoms of which sort the chief 

Are diamond stones, despisers of all blows, 

And stalwart flint and strength of solid iron, 

And brazen bars, which, budging hard in locks, 

Do grate and scream. But what are liquid, formed 

Of fluid body, they indeed must be 

Of elements more smooth and round because 

Their globules severally will not cohere: 

To suck the poppyseeds from palm of hand 

Is quite as easy as drinking water down, 

And they, once struck, roll like unto the same. 

But that thou seest among the things that flow 

Some bitter, as the brine of ocean is, 

Is not the least a marvel... 

For since 'tis fluid, smooth its atoms are 

And round, with painful rough ones mixed therein; 

Yet need not these be held together hooked: 

In fact, though rough, they're globular besides, 

Able at once to roll, and rasp the sense. 

And that the more thou mayst believe me here, 

That with smooth elements are mixed the rough 

(Whence Neptune's salt astringent body comes), 

There is a means to separate the twain, 

And thereupon dividedly to see 

How the sweet water, after filtering through 

So often underground, flows freshened forth 

Into some hollow; for it leaves above 

The primal germs of nauseating brine, 

Since cling the rough more readily in earth. 

Lastly, whatso thou markest to disperse 

Upon the instant smoke, and cloud, and flame 

Must not (even though not all of smooth and round) 

Be yet colinked with atoms intertwined, 

That thus they can, without together cleaving, 

So pierce our body and so bore the rocks. 

Whatever we see... 

Given to senses, that thou must perceive 

They're not from linked but pointed elements. 

The which now having taught, I will go on 

To bind thereto a fact to this allied 

And drawing from this its proof: these primal germs 

Vary, yet only with finite tale of shapes. 

For were these shapes quite infinite, some seeds 

Would have a body of infinite increase. 


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For in one seed, in one small frame of any, 

The shapes can't vary from one another much. 

Assume, we'll say, that of three minim parts 

Consist the primal bodies, or add a few: 

When, now, by placing all these parts of one 

At top and bottom, changing lefts and rights, 

Thou hast with every kind of shift found out 

What the aspect of shape of its whole body 

Each new arrangement gives, for what remains, 

If thou percase wouldst vary its old shapes, 

New parts must then be added; 'twill follow next, 

If thou percase wouldst vary still its shapes, 

That by like logic each arrangement still 

Requires its increment of other parts. 

Ergo, an augmentation of its frame 

Follows upon each novelty of forms. 

Wherefore, it cannot be thou'lt undertake 

That seeds have infinite differences in form, 

Lest thus thou forcest some indeed to be 

Of an immeasurable immensity 

Which I have taught above cannot be proved. 

And now for thee barbaric robes, and gleam 

Of Meliboean purple, touched with dye 

Of the Thessalian shell... 

The peacock's golden generations, stained 

With spotted gaieties, would lie o'erthrown 

By some new colour of new things more bright; 

The odour of myrrh and savours of honey despised; 

The swan's old lyric, and Apollo's hymns, 

Once modulated on the many chords, 

Would likewise sink o'ermastered and be mute: 

For, lo, a somewhat, finer than the rest, 

Would be arising evermore. So, too, 

Into some baser part might all retire, 

Even as we said to better might they come: 

For, lo, a somewhat, loathlier than the rest 

To nostrils, ears, and eyes, and taste of tongue, 

Would then, by reasoning reversed, be there. 

Since 'tis not so, but unto things are given 

Their fixed limitations which do bound 

Their sum on either side, 'tmust be confessed 

That matter, too, by finite tale of shapes 

Does differ. Again, from earth's midsummer heats 

Unto the icy hoarfrosts of the year 

The forward path is fixed, and by like law 

O'ertravelled backwards at the dawn of spring. 

For each degree of hat, and each of cold, 

And the halfwarm, all filling up the sum 

In due progression, lie, my Memmius, there 

Betwixt the two extremes: the things create 

Must differ, therefore, by a finite change, 

Since at each end marked off they ever are 

By fixed point on one side plagued by flames 

And on the other by congealing frosts. 

The which now having taught, I will go on 

To bind thereto a fact to this allied 

And drawing from this its proof: those primal germs 

Which have been fashioned all of one like shape 

Are infinite in tale; for, since the forms 

Themselves are finite in divergences, 


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Page No 38


Then those which are alike will have to be 

Infinite, else the sum of stuff remains 

A finite what I've proved is not the fact, 

Showing in verse how corpuscles of stuff, 

From everlasting and today the same, 

Uphold the sum of things, all sides around 

By old succession of unending blows. 

For though thou view'st some beasts to be more rare, 

And mark'st in them a less prolific stock, 

Yet in another region, in lands remote, 

That kind abounding may make up the count; 

Even as we mark among the fourfoot kind 

Snakehanded elephants, whose thousands wall 

With ivory ramparts India about, 

That her interiors cannot entered be 

So big her count of brutes of which we see 

Such few examples. Or suppose, besides, 

We feign some thing, one of its kind and sole 

With body born, to which is nothing like 

In all the lands: yet now unless shall be 

An infinite count of matter out of which 

Thus to conceive and bring it forth to life, 

It cannot be created and what's more 

It cannot take its food and get increase. 

Yea, if through all the world in finite tale 

Be tossed the procreant bodies of one thing, 

Whence, then, and where in what mode, by what power, 

Shall they to meeting come together there, 

In such vast ocean of matter and tumult strange? 

No means they have of joining into one. 

But, just as, after mighty shipwrecks piled, 

The mighty main is wont to scatter wide 

The rowers' banks, the ribs, the yards, the prow, 

The masts and swimming oars, so that afar 

Along all shores of lands are seen afloat 

The carven fragments of the rended poop, 

Giving a lesson to mortality 

To shun the ambush of the faithless main, 

The violence and the guile, and trust it not 

At any hour, however much may smile 

The crafty enticements of the placid deep: 

Exactly thus, if once thou holdest true 

That certain seeds are finite in their tale, 

The various tides of matter, then, must needs 

Scatter them flung throughout the ages all, 

So that not ever can they join, as driven 

Together into union, nor remain 

In union, nor with increment can grow 

But facts in proof are manifest for each: 

Things can be both begotten and increase. 

'Tis therefore manifest that primal germs, 

Are infinite in any class thou wilt 

From whence is furnished matter for all things. 

Nor can those motions that bring death prevail 

Forever, nor eternally entomb 

The welfare of the world; nor, further, can 

Those motions that give birth to things and growth 

Keep them forever when created there. 

Thus the long war, from everlasting waged, 

With equal strife among the elements 

Goes on and on. Now here, now there, prevail 


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Page No 39


The vital forces of the world or fall. 

Mixed with the funeral is the wildered wail 

Of infants coming to the shores of light: 

No night a day, no dawn a night hath followed 

That heard not, mingling with the small birthcries, 

The wild laments, companions old of death 

And the black rites. 

This, too, in these affairs 

'Tis fit thou hold well sealed, and keep consigned 

With no forgetting brain: nothing there is 

Whose nature is apparent out of hand 

That of one kind of elements consists 

Nothing there is that's not of mixed seed. 

And whatsoe'er possesses in itself 

More largely many powers and properties 

Shows thus that here within itself there are 

The largest number of kinds and differing shapes 

Of elements. And, chief of all, the earth 

Hath in herself first bodies whence the springs, 

Rolling chill waters, renew forevermore 

The unmeasured main; hath whence the fires arise 

For burns in many a spot her flamed crust, 

Whilst the impetuous Aetna raves indeed 

From more profounder fires and she, again, 

Hath in herself the seed whence she can raise 

The shining grains and gladsome trees for men; 

Whence, also, rivers, fronds, and gladsome pastures 

Can she supply for mountainroaming beasts. 

Wherefore great mother of gods, and mother of beasts, 

And parent of man hath she alone been named. 

Her hymned the old and learned bards of Greece 

Seated in chariot o'er the realms of air 

To drive her team of lions, teaching thus 

That the great earth hangs poised and cannot lie 

Resting on other earth. Unto her car 

They've yoked the wild beasts, since a progeny, 

However savage, must be tamed and chid 

By care of parents. They have girt about 

With turretcrown the summit of her head, 

Since, fortressed in her goodly strongholds high, 

'Tis she sustains the cities; now, adorned 

With that same token, today is carried forth, 

With solemn awe through many a mighty land, 

The image of that mother, the divine. 

Her the wide nations, after antique rite, 

Do name Idaean Mother, giving her 

Escort of Phrygian bands, since first, they say, 

From out those regions 'twas that grain began 

Through all the world. To her do they assign 

The Galli, the emasculate, since thus 

They wish to show that men who violate 

The majesty of the mother and have proved 

Ingrate to parents are to be adjudged 

Unfit to give unto the shores of light 

A living progeny. The Galli come: 

And hollow cymbals, tightskinned tambourines 

Resound around to bangings of their hands; 

The fierce horns threaten with a raucous bray; 

The tubed pipe excites their maddened minds 

In Phrygian measures; they bear before them knives, 

Wild emblems of their frenzy, which have power 


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Page No 40


The rabble's ingrate heads and impious hearts 

To panic with terror of the goddess' might. 

And so, when through the mighty cities borne, 

She blesses man with salutations mute, 

They strew the highway of her journeyings 

With coin of brass and silver, gifting her 

With alms and largesse, and shower her and shade 

With flowers of roses falling like the snow 

Upon the Mother and her companionbands. 

Here is an armed troop, the which by Greeks 

Are called the Phrygian Curetes. Since 

Haply among themselves they use to play 

In games of arms and leap in measure round 

With bloody mirth and by their nodding shake 

The terrorizing crests upon their heads, 

This is the armed troop that represents 

The arm'd Dictaean Curetes, who, in Crete, 

As runs the story, whilom did outdrown 

That infant cry of Zeus, what time their band, 

Young boys, in a swift dance around the boy, 

To measured step beat with the brass on brass, 

That Saturn might not get him for his jaws, 

And give its mother an eternal wound 

Along her heart. And it is on this account 

That armed they escort the mighty Mother, 

Or else because they signify by this 

That she, the goddess, teaches men to be 

Eager with armed valour to defend 

Their motherland, and ready to stand forth, 

The guard and glory of their parents' years. 

A tale, however beautifully wrought, 

That's wide of reason by a long remove: 

For all the gods must of themselves enjoy 

Immortal aeons and supreme repose, 

Withdrawn from our affairs, detached, afar: 

Immune from peril and immune from pain, 

Themselves abounding in riches of their own, 

Needing not us, they are not touched by wrath 

They are not taken by service or by gift. 

Truly is earth insensate for all time; 

But, by obtaining germs of many things, 

In many a way she brings the many forth 

Into the light of sun. And here, whoso 

Decides to call the ocean Neptune, or 

The graincrop Ceres, and prefers to abuse 

The name of Bacchus rather than pronounce 

The liquor's proper designation, him 

Let us permit to go on calling earth 

Mother of Gods, if only he will spare 

To taint his soul with foul religion. 

So, too, the wooly flocks, and horned kine, 

And brood of battleeager horses, grazing 

Often together along one grassy plain, 

Under the cope of one blue sky, and slaking 

From out one stream of water each its thirst, 

All live their lives with face and form unlike, 

Keeping the parents' nature, parents' habits, 

Which, kind by kind, through ages they repeat. 

So great in any sort of herb thou wilt, 

So great again in any river of earth 

Are the distinct diversities of matter. 


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Hence, further, every creature any one 

From out them all compounded is the same 

Of bones, blood, veins, heat, moisture, flesh, and thews

All differing vastly in their forms, and built 

Of elements dissimilar in shape. 

Again, all things by fire consumed ablaze, 

Within their frame lay up, if naught besides, 

At least those atoms whence derives their power 

To throw forth fire and send out light from under, 

To shoot the sparks and scatter embers wide. 

If, with like reasoning of mind, all else 

Thou traverse through, thou wilt discover thus 

That in their frame the seeds of many things 

They hide, and divers shapes of seeds contain. 

Further, thou markest much, to which are given 

Along together colour and flavour and smell, 

Among which, chief, are most burnt offerings. 

Thus must they be of divers shapes composed. 

A smell of scorching enters in our frame 

Where the bright colour from the dye goes not; 

And colour in one way, flavour in quite another 

Works inward to our senses so mayst see 

They differ too in elemental shapes. 

Thus unlike forms into one mass combine, 

And things exist by intermixed seed. 

But still 'tmust not be thought that in all ways 

All things can be conjoined; for then wouldest view 

Portents begot about thee every side: 

Hulks of mankind half brute astarting up, 

At times big branches sprouting from man's trunk, 

Limbs of a seabeast to a landbeast knit, 

And Nature along the allproducing earth 

Feeding those dire Chimaeras breathing flame 

From hideous jaws Of which 'tis simple fact 

That none have been begot; because we see 

All are from fixed seed and fixed dam 

Engendered and so function as to keep 

Throughout their growth their own ancestral type. 

This happens surely by a fixed law: 

For from all foodstuff, when once eaten down, 

Go sundered atoms, suited to each creature, 

Throughout their bodies, and, conjoining there, 

Produce the proper motions; but we see 

How, contrariwise, Nature upon the ground 

Throws off those foreign to their frame; and many 

With viewless bodies from their bodies fly, 

By blows impelled those impotent to join 

To any part, or, when inside, to accord 

And to take on the vital motions there. 

But think not, haply, living forms alone 

Are bound by these laws: they distinguished all. 

For just as all things of creation are, 

In their whole nature, each to each unlike, 

So must their atoms be in shape unlike 

Not since few only are fashioned of like form, 

But since they all, as general rule, are not 

The same as all. Nay, here in these our verses, 

Elements many, common to many words, 


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Page No 42


Thou seest, though yet 'tis needful to confess 

The words and verses differ, each from each, 

Compounded out of different elements 

Not since few only, as common letters, run 

Through all the words, or no two words are made, 

One and the other, from all like elements, 

But since they all, as general rule, are not 

The same as all. Thus, too, in other things, 

Whilst many germs common to many things 

There are, yet they, combined among themselves, 

Can form new who to others quite unlike. 

Thus fairly one may say that humankind, 

The grains, the gladsome trees, are all made up 

Of different atoms. Further, since the seeds 

Are different, difference must there also be 

In intervening spaces, thoroughfares, 

Connections, weights, blows, clashings, motions, all 

Which not alone distinguish living forms, 

But sunder earth's whole ocean from the lands, 

And hold all heaven from the lands away. 

Absence of Secondary Qualities

Now come, this wisdom by my sweet toil sought 

Look thou perceive, lest haply thou shouldst guess 

That the white objects shining to thine eyes 

Are gendered of white atoms, or the black 

Of a black seed; or yet believe that aught 

That's steeped in any hue should take its dye 

From bits of matter tinct with hue the same. 

For matter's bodies own no hue the least 

Or like to objects or, again, unlike. 

But, if percase it seem to thee that mind 

Itself can dart no influence of its own 

Into these bodies, wide thou wand'rest off. 

For since the blindborn, who have ne'er surveyed 

The light of sun, yet recognise by touch 

Things that from birth had ne'er a hue for them, 

'Tis thine to know that bodies can be brought 

No less unto the ken of our minds too, 

Though yet those bodies with no dye be smeared. 

Again, ourselves whatever in the dark 

We touch, the same we do not find to be 

Tinctured with any colour. 

Now that here 

I win the argument, I next will teach 

Now, every colour changes, none except, 

And every... 

Which the primordials ought nowise to do. 

Since an immutable somewhat must remain, 

Lest all things utterly be brought to naught. 

For change of anything from out its bounds 

Means instant death of that which was before. 

Wherefore be mindful not to stain with colour 

The seeds of things, lest things return for thee 

All utterly to naught. 

But now, if seeds 

Receive no property of colour, and yet 


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Page No 43


Be still endowed with variable forms 

From which all kinds of colours they beget 

And vary (by reason that ever it matters much 

With, what seeds, and in what positions joined, 

And what the motions that they give and get), 

Forthwith most easily thou mayst devise 

Why what was black of hue an hour ago 

Can of a sudden like the marble gleam, 

As ocean, when the high winds have upheaved 

Its level plains, is changed to hoary waves 

Of marble whiteness: for, thou mayst declare, 

That, when the thing we often see as black 

Is in its matter then commixed anew, 

Some atoms rearranged, and some withdrawn, 

And added some, 'tis seen forthwith to turn 

Glowing and white. But if of azure seeds 

Consist the level waters of the deep, 

They could in nowise whiten: for however 

Thou shakest azure seeds, the same can never 

Pass into marble hue. But, if the seeds 

Which thus produce the ocean's one pure sheen 

Be now with one hue, now another dyed, 

As oft from alien forms and divers shapes 

A cube's produced all uniform in shape, 

'Twould be but natural, even as in the cube 

We see the forms to be dissimilar, 

That thus we'd see in brightness of the deep 

(Or in whatever one pure sheen thou wilt) 

Colours diverse and all dissimilar. 

Besides, the unlike shapes don't thwart the least 

The whole in being externally a cube; 

But differing hues of things do block and keep 

The whole from being of one resultant hue. 

Then, too, the reason which entices us 

At times to attribute colours to the seeds 

Falls quite to pieces, since white things are not 

Create from white things, nor are black from black, 

But evermore they are create from things 

Of divers colours. Verily, the white 

Will rise more readily, is sooner born 

Out of no colour, than of black or aught 

Which stands in hostile opposition thus. 

Besides, since colours cannot be, sans light, 

And the primordials come not forth to light, 

'Tis thine to know they are not clothed with colour 

Truly, what kind of colour could there be 

In the viewless dark? Nay, in the light itself 

A colour changes, gleaming variedly, 

When smote by vertical or slanting ray. 

Thus in the sunlight shows the down of doves 

That circles, garlanding, the nape and throat: 

Now it is ruddy with a bright goldbronze, 

Now, by a strange sensation it becomes 

Greenemerald blended with the coralred. 

The peacock's tail, filled with the copious light, 

Changes its colours likewise, when it turns. 

Wherefore, since by some blow of light begot, 

Without such blow these colours can't become. 

And since the pupil of the eye receives 

Within itself one kind of blow, when said 


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To feel a white hue, then another kind, 

When feeling a black or any other hue, 

And since it matters nothing with what hue 

The things thou touchest be perchance endowed, 

But rather with what sort of shape equipped, 

'Tis thine to know the atoms need not colour, 

But render forth sensations, as of touch, 

That vary with their varied forms. 

Besides, 

Since special shapes have not a special colour, 

And all formations of the primal germs 

Can be of any sheen thou wilt, why, then, 

Are not those objects which are of them made 

Suffused, each kind with colours of every kind? 

For then 'twere meet that ravens, as they fly, 

Should dartle from white pinions a white sheen, 

Or swans turn black from seed of black, or be 

Of any single varied dye thou wilt. 

Again, the more an object's rent to bits, 

The more thou see its colour fade away 

Little by little till 'tis quite extinct; 

As happens when the gaudy linen's picked 

Shred after shred away: the purple there, 

Phoenician red, most brilliant of all dyes, 

Is lost asunder, ravelled thread by thread; 

Hence canst perceive the fragments die away 

From out their colour, long ere they depart 

Back to the old primordials of things. 

And, last, since thou concedest not all bodies 

Send out a voice or smell, it happens thus 

That not to all thou givest sounds and smells. 

So, too, since we behold not all with eyes, 

'Tis thine to know some things there are as much 

Orphaned of colour, as others without smell, 

And reft of sound; and those the mind alert 

No less can apprehend than it can mark 

The things that lack some other qualities. 

But think not haply that the primal bodies 

Remain despoiled alone of colour: so, 

Are they from warmth dissevered and from cold 

And from hot exhalations; and they move, 

Both sterile of sound and dry of juice; and throw 

Not any odour from their proper bodies. 

Just as, when undertaking to prepare 

A liquid balm of myrrh and marjoram, 

And flower of nard, which to our nostrils breathes 

Odour of nectar, first of all behooves 

Thou seek, as far as find thou may and can, 

The inodorous oliveoil (which never sends 

One whiff of scent to nostrils), that it may 

The least debauch and ruin with sharp tang 

The odorous essence with its body mixed 

And in it seethed. And on the same account 

The primal germs of things must not be thought 

To furnish colour in begetting things, 

Nor sound, since pow'rless they to send forth aught 

From out themselves, nor any flavour, too, 

Nor cold, nor exhalation hot or warm. 

The rest; yet since these things are mortal all 


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The pliant mortal, with a body soft; 

The brittle mortal, with a crumbling frame; 

The hollow with a porousall must be 

Disjoined from the primal elements, 

If still we wish under the world to lay 

Immortal groundworks, whereupon may rest 

The sum of weal and safety, lest for thee 

All things return to nothing utterly. 

Now, too: whate'er we see possessing sense 

Must yet confessedly be stablished all 

From elements insensate. And those signs, 

So clear to all and witnessed out of hand, 

Do not refute this dictum nor oppose; 

But rather themselves do lead us by the hand, 

Compelling belief that living things are born 

Of elements insensate, as I say. 

Sooth, we may see from out the stinking dung 

Live worms spring up, when, after soaking rains, 

The drenched earth rots; and all things change the same:

Lo, change the rivers, the fronds, the gladsome pastures

Into the cattle, the cattle their nature change 

Into our bodies, and from our body, oft 

Grow strong the powers and bodies of wild beasts 

And mightywinged birds. Thus Nature changes 

All foods to living frames, and procreates 

From them the senses of live creatures all, 

In manner about as she uncoils in flames 

Dry logs of wood and turns them all to fire. 

And seest not, therefore, how it matters much 

After what order are set the primal germs, 

And with what other germs they all are mixed, 

And what the motions that they give and get? 

But now, what is't that strikes thy sceptic mind, 

Constraining thee to sundry arguments 

Against belief that from insensate germs 

The sensible is gendered? Verily, 

'Tis this: that liquids, earth, and wood, though mixed, 

Are yet unable to gender vital sense. 

And, therefore, 'twill be well in these affairs 

This to remember: that I have not said 

Senses are born, under conditions all, 

From all things absolutely which create 

Objects that feel; but much it matters here 

Firstly, how small the seeds which thus compose 

The feeling thing, then, with what shapes endowed, 

And lastly what they in positions be, 

In motions, in arrangements. Of which facts 

Naught we perceive in logs of wood and clods; 

And yet even these, when sodden by the rains, 

Give birth to wormy grubs, because the bodies 

Of matter, from their old arrangements stirred 

By the new factor, then combine anew 

In such a way as genders living things. 

Next, they who deem that feeling objects can 

From feeling objects be create, and these, 


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In turn, from others that are wont to feel 

When soft they make them; for all sense is linked 

With flesh, and thews, and veins and such, we see, 

Are fashioned soft and of a mortal frame. 

Yet be't that these can last forever on: 

They'll have the sense that's proper to a part, 

Or else be judged to have a sense the same 

As that within live creatures as a whole. 

But of themselves those parts can never feel, 

For all the sense in every member back 

To something else refers a severed hand, 

Or any other member of our frame, 

Itself alone cannot support sensation. 

It thus remains they must resemble, then, 

Live creatures as a whole, to have the power 

Of feeling sensation concordant in each part 

With the vital sense; and so they're bound to feel 

The things we feel exactly as do we. 

If such the case, how, then, can they be named 

The primal germs of things, and how avoid 

The highways of destruction? since they be 

Mere living things and living things be all 

One and the same with mortal. Grant they could, 

Yet by their meetings and their unions all, 

Naught would result, indeed, besides a throng 

And hurlyburly all of living things 

Precisely as men, and cattle, and wild beasts, 

By mere conglomeration each with each 

Can still beget not anything of new. 

But if by chance they lose, inside a body, 

Their own sense and another sense take on, 

What, then, avails it to assign them that 

Which is withdrawn thereafter? And besides, 

To touch on proof that we pronounced before, 

Just as we see the eggs of feathered fowls 

To change to living chicks, and swarming worms 

To bubble forth when from the soaking rains 

The earth is sodden, sure, sensations all 

Can out of nonsensations be begot. 

But if one say that sense can so far rise 

From nonsense by mutation, or because 

Brought forth as by a certain sort of birth, 

'Twill serve to render plain to him and prove 

There is no birth, unless there be before 

Some formed union of the elements, 

Nor any change, unless they be unite. 

In first place, senses can't in body be 

Before its living nature's been begot, 

Since all its stuff, in faith, is held dispersed 

About through rivers, air, and earth, and all 

That is from earth created, nor has met 

In combination, and, in proper mode, 

Conjoined into those vital motions which 

Kindle the allperceiving senses they 

That keep and guard each living thing soever. 

Again, a blow beyond its nature's strength 

Shatters forthwith each living thing soe'er, 

And on it goes confounding all the sense 


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Of body and mind. For of the primal germs 

Are loosed their old arrangements, and, throughout, 

The vital motions blocked, until the stuff, 

Shaken profoundly through the frame entire, 

Undoes the vital knots of soul from body 

And throws that soul, to outward widedispersed, 

Through all the pores. For what may we surmise 

A blow inflicted can achieve besides 

Shaking asunder and loosening all apart? 

It happens also, when less sharp the blow, 

The vital motions which are left are wont 

Oft to win out win out, and stop and still 

The uncouth tumults gendered by the blow, 

And call each part to its own courses back, 

And shake away the motion of death which now 

Begins its own dominion in the body, 

And kindle anew the senses almost gone. 

For by what other means could they the more 

Collect their powers of thought and turn again 

From very doorways of destruction 

Back unto life, rather than pass whereto 

They be already wellnigh sped and so 

Pass quite away? 

Again, since pain is there 

Where bodies of matter, by some force stirred up, 

Through vitals and through joints, within their seats 

Quiver and quake inside, but soft delight, 

When they remove unto their place again: 

'Tis thine to know the primal germs can be 

Assaulted by no pain, nor from themselves 

Take no delight; because indeed they are 

Not made of any bodies of first things, 

Under whose strange new motions they might ache 

Or pluck the fruit of any dear new sweet. 

And so they must be furnished with no sense. 

Once more, if thus, that every living thing 

May have sensation, needful 'tis to assign 

Sense also to its elements, what then 

Of those fixed elements from which mankind 

Hath been, by their peculiar virtue, formed? 

Of verity, they'll laugh aloud, like men, 

Shaken asunder by a spasm of mirth, 

Or sprinkle with dewy teardrops cheeks and chins, 

And have the cunning hardihood to say 

Much on the composition of the world, 

And in their turn inquire what elements 

They have themselves, since, thus the same in kind 

As a whole mortal creature, even they 

Must also be from other elements, 

And then those others from others evermore 

So that thou darest nowhere make a stop. 

Oho, I'll follow thee until thou grant 

The seed (which here thou say'st speaks, laughs, and thinks)

Is yet derived out of other seeds 

Which in their turn are doing just the same. 

But if we see what raving nonsense this, 

And that a man may laugh, though not, forsooth, 

Compounded out of laughing elements, 

And think and utter reason with learn'd speech, 

Though not himself compounded, for a fact, 


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Of sapient seeds and eloquent, why, then, 

Cannot those things which we perceive to have 

Their own sensation be composed as well 

Of intermixed seeds quite void of sense? 

Infinite Worlds

Once more, we all from seed celestial spring, 

To all is that same father, from whom earth, 

The fostering mother, as she takes the drops 

Of liquid moisture, pregnant bears her broods 

The shining grains, and gladsome shrubs and trees, 

And bears the human race and of the wild 

The generations all, the while she yields 

The foods wherewith all feed their frames and lead 

The genial life and propagate their kind; 

Wherefore she owneth that maternal name, 

By old desert. What was before from earth, 

The same in earth sinks back, and what was sent 

From shores of ether, that, returning home, 

The vaults of sky receive. Nor thus doth death 

So far annihilate things that she destroys 

The bodies of matter; but she dissipates 

Their combinations, and conjoins anew 

One element with others; and contrives 

That all things vary forms and change their colours 

And get sensations and straight give them o'er. 

And thus may'st know it matters with what others 

And in what structure the primordial germs 

Are held together, and what motions they 

Among themselves do give and get; nor think 

That aught we see hither and thither afloat 

Upon the crest of things, and now a birth 

And straightway now a ruin, inheres at rest 

Deep in the eternal atoms of the world. 

Why, even in these our very verses here 

It matters much with what and in what order 

Each element is set: the same denote 

Sky, and the ocean, lands, and streams, and sun; 

The same, the grains, and trees, and living things. 

And if not all alike, at least the most 

But what distinctions by positions wrought! 

And thus no less in things themselves, when once 

Around are changed the intervals between, 

The paths of matter, its connections, weights, 

Blows, clashings, motions, order, structure, shapes, 

The things themselves must likewise changed be. 

Now to true reason give thy mind for us. 

Since here strange truth is putting forth its might 

To hit thee in thine ears, a new aspect 

Of things to show its front. Yet naught there is 

So easy that it standeth not at first 

More hard to credit than it after is; 

And naught soe'er that's great to such degree, 

Nor wonderful so far, but all mankind 

Little by little abandon their surprise. 

Look upward yonder at the bright clear sky 

And what it holds the stars that wander o'er,


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The moon, the radiance of the splendoursun: 

Yet all, if now they first for mortals were, 

If unforeseen now first asudden shown, 

What might there be more wonderful to tell, 

What that the nations would before have dared 

Less to believe might be? I fancy, naught 

So strange had been the marvel of that sight. 

The which o'erwearied to behold, today 

None deigns look upward to those lucent realms. 

Then, spew not reason from thy mind away, 

Beside thyself because the matter's new, 

But rather with keen judgment nicely weigh; 

And if to thee it then appeareth true, 

Render thy hands, or, if 'tis false at last, 

Gird thee to combat. For my mindofman 

Now seeks the nature of the vast Beyond 

There on the other side, that boundless sum 

Which lies without the ramparts of the world, 

Toward which the spirit longs to peer afar, 

Toward which indeed the swift elan of thought 

Flies unencumbered forth. 

Firstly, we find, 

Off to all regions round, on either side, 

Above, beneath, throughout the universe 

End is there none as I have taught, as too 

The very thing of itself declares aloud, 

And as from nature of the unbottomed deep 

Shines clearly forth. Nor can we once suppose 

In any way 'tis likely, (seeing that space 

To all sides stretches infinite and free, 

And seeds, innumerable in number, in sum 

Bottomless, there in many a manner fly, 

Bestirred in everlasting motion there), 

That only this one earth and sky of ours 

Hath been create and that those bodies of stuff, 

So many, perform no work outside the same; 

Seeing, moreover, this world too hath been 

By Nature fashioned, even as seeds of things 

By innate motion chanced to clash and cling 

After they'd been in many a manner driven 

Together at random, without design, in vain 

And at last those seeds together dwelt, 

Which, when together of a sudden thrown, 

Should alway furnish the commencements fit 

Of mighty things the earth, the sea, the sky, 

And race of living creatures. Thus, I say, 

Again, again, 'tmust be confessed there are 

Such congregations of matter otherwhere, 

Like this our world which vasty ether holds 

In huge embrace. 

Besides, when matter abundant 

Is ready there, when space on hand, nor object 

Nor any cause retards, no marvel 'tis 

That things are carried on and made complete, 

Perforce. And now, if store of seeds there is 

So great that not whole lifetimes of the living 

Can count the tale... 

And if their force and nature abide the same, 

Able to throw the seeds of things together 

Into their places, even as here are thrown 

The seeds together in this world of ours, 

'Tmust be confessed in other realms there are 


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Still other worlds, still other breeds of men, 

And other generations of the wild. 

Hence too it happens in the sum there is 

No one thing single of its kind in birth, 

And single and sole in growth, but rather it is 

One member of some generated race, 

Among full many others of like kind. 

First, cast thy mind abroad upon the living: 

Thou'lt find the race of mountainranging wild 

Even thus to be, and thus the scions of men 

To be begot, and lastly the mute flocks 

Of scaled fish, and winged frames of birds. 

Wherefore confess we must on grounds the same 

That earth, sun, moon, and ocean, and all else, 

Exist not sole and single rather in number 

Exceeding number. Since that deeply set 

Old boundary stone of life remains for them 

No less, and theirs a body of mortal birth 

No less, than every kind which hereon earth 

Is so abundant in its members found. 

Which well perceived if thou hold in mind, 

Then Nature, delivered from every haughty lord, 

And forthwith free, is seen to do all things 

Herself and through herself of own accord, 

Rid of all gods. For by their holy hearts 

Which pass in long tranquillity of peace 

Untroubled ages and a serene life! 

Who hath the power (I ask), who hath the power 

To rule the sum of the immeasurable, 

To hold with steady hand the giant reins 

Of the unfathomed deep? Who hath the power 

At once to rule a multitude of skies, 

At once to heat with fires ethereal all 

The fruitful lands of multitudes of worlds, 

To be at all times in all places near, 

To stablish darkness by his clouds, to shake 

The serene spaces of the sky with sound, 

And hurl his lightnings, ha, and whelm how oft 

In ruins his own temples, and to rave, 

Retiring to the wildernesses, there 

At practice with that thunderbolt of his, 

Which yet how often shoots the guilty by, 

And slays the honourable blameless ones! 

Ere since the birthtime of the world, ere since 

The risen firstborn day of sea, earth, sun, 

Have many germs been added from outside, 

Have many seeds been added round about, 

Which the great All, the while it flung them on, 

Brought hither, that from them the sea and lands 

Could grow more big, and that the house of heaven 

Might get more room and raise its lofty roofs 

Far over earth, and air arise around. 

For bodies all, from out all regions, are 

Divided by blows, each to its proper thing, 

And all retire to their own proper kinds: 

The moist to moist retires; earth gets increase 

From earthy body; and fires, as on a forge, 

Beat out new fire; and ether forges ether; 

Till Nature, author and ender of the world, 

Hath led all things to extreme bound of growth: 

As haps when that which hath been poured inside 


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The vital veins of life is now no more 

Than that which ebbs within them and runs off. 

This is the point where life for each thing ends; 

This is the point where Nature with her powers 

Curbs all increase. For whatsoe'er thou seest 

Grow big with glad increase, and step by step 

Climb upward to ripe age, these to themselves 

Take in more bodies than they send from selves, 

Whilst still the food is easily infused 

Through all the veins, and whilst the things are not 

So far expanded that they cast away 

Such numerous atoms as to cause a waste 

Greater than nutriment whereby they wax. 

For 'tmust be granted, truly, that from things 

Many a body ebbeth and runs off; 

But yet still more must come, until the things 

Have touched development's top pinnacle; 

Then old age breaks their powers and ripe strength 

And falls away into a worser part. 

For ever the ampler and more wide a thing, 

As soon as ever its augmentation ends, 

It scatters abroad forthwith to all sides round 

More bodies, sending them from out itself. 

Nor easily now is food disseminate 

Through all its veins; nor is that food enough 

To equal with a new supply on hand 

Those plenteous exhalations it gives off. 

Thus, fairly, all things perish, when with ebbing 

They're made less dense and when from blows without 

They are laid low; since food at last will fail 

Extremest eld, and bodies from outside 

Cease not with thumping to undo a thing 

And overmaster by infesting blows. 

Thus, too, the ramparts of the mighty world 

On all sides round shall taken be by storm, 

And tumble to wrack and shivered fragments down. 

For food it is must keep things whole, renewing; 

'Tis food must prop and give support to all, 

But to no purpose, since nor veins suffice 

To hold enough, nor nature ministers 

As much as needful. And even now 'tis thus: 

Its age is broken and the earth, outworn 

With many parturitions, scarce creates 

The little lives she who created erst 

All generations and gave forth at birth 

Enormous bodies of wild beasts of old. 

For never, I fancy, did a golden cord 

From off the firmament above let down 

The mortal generations to the fields; 

Nor sea, nor breakers pounding on the rocks 

Created them; but earth it was who bore 

The same today who feeds them from herself. 

Besides, herself of own accord, she first 

The shining grains and vineyards of all joy 

Created for mortality; herself 

Gave the sweet fruitage and the pastures glad, 

Which now today yet scarcely wax in size, 

Even when aided by our toiling arms. 

We break the ox, and wear away the strength 

Of sturdy farmhands; iron tools today 

Barely avail for tilling of the fields, 

So niggardly they grudge our harvestings, 


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So much increase our labour. Now today 

The aged ploughman, shaking of his head, 

Sighs o'er and o'er that labours of his hands 

Have fallen out in vain, and, as he thinks 

How present times are not as times of old, 

Often he praises the fortunes of his sire, 

And crackles, prating, how the ancient race, 

Fulfilled with piety, supported life 

With simple comfort in a narrow plot, 

Since, man for man, the measure of each field 

Was smaller far i' the old days. And, again, 

The gloomy planter of the withered vine 

Rails at the season's change and wearies heaven, 

Nor grasps that all of things by sure degrees 

Are wasting away and going to the tomb, 

Outworn by venerable length of life. 

BOOK III

Proem

O thou who first uplifted in such dark 

So clear a torch aloft, who first shed light 

Upon the profitable ends of man, 

O thee I follow, glory of the Greeks, 

And set my footsteps squarely planted now 

Even in the impress and the marks of thine 

Less like one eager to dispute the palm, 

More as one craving out of very love 

That I may copy thee! for how should swallow 

Contend with swans or what compare could be 

In a race between young kids with tumbling legs 

And the strong might of the horse? Our father thou, 

And finderout of truth, and thou to us 

Suppliest a father's precepts; and from out 

Those scriven leaves of thine, renowned soul 

(Like bees that sip of all in flowery wolds), 

We feed upon thy golden sayings all 

Golden, and ever worthiest endless life. 

For soon as ever thy planning thought that sprang 

From godlike mind begins its loud proclaim 

Of nature's courses, terrors of the brain 

Asunder flee, the ramparts of the world 

Dispart away, and through the void entire 

I see the movements of the universe. 

Rises to vision the majesty of gods, 

And their abodes of everlasting calm 

Which neither wind may shake nor raincloud splash, 

Nor snow, congealed by sharp frosts, may harm 

With its white downfall: ever, unclouded sky 

O'er roofs, and laughs with fardiffused light. 

And nature gives to them their all, nor aught 

May ever pluck their peace of mind away. 

But nowhere to my vision rise no more 

The vaults of Acheron, though the broad earth 


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Bars me no more from gazing down o'er all 

Which under our feet is going on below 

Along the void. O, here in these affairs 

Some new divine delight and trembling awe 

Takes hold through me, that thus by power of thine 

Nature, so plain and manifest at last, 

Hath been on every side laid bare to man! 

And since I've taught already of what sort 

The seeds of all things are, and how, distinct 

In divers forms, they flit of own accord, 

Stirred with a motion everlasting on, 

And in what mode things be from them create, 

Now, after such matters, should my verse, meseems, 

Make clear the nature of the mind and soul, 

And drive that dread of Acheron without, 

Headlong, which so confounds our human life 

Unto its deeps, pouring o'er all that is 

The black of death, nor leaves not anything 

To prosper a liquid and unsullied joy. 

For as to what men sometimes will affirm: 

That more than Tartarus (the realm of death) 

They fear diseases and a life of shame, 

And know the substance of the soul is blood, 

Or rather wind (if haply thus their whim), 

And so need naught of this our science, then 

Thou well may'st note from what's to follow now 

That more for glory do they braggart forth 

Than for belief. For mark these very same: 

Exiles from country, fugitives afar 

From sight of men, with charges foul attaint, 

Abased with every wretchedness, they yet 

Live, and where'er the wretches come, they yet 

Make the ancestral sacrifices there, 

Butcher the black sheep, and to gods below 

Offer the honours, and in bitter case 

Turn much more keenly to religion. 

Wherefore, it's surer testing of a man 

In doubtful perils mark him as he is 

Amid adversities; for then alone 

Are the true voices conjured from his breast, 

The mask offstripped, reality behind. 

And greed, again, and the blind lust of honours 

Which force poor wretches past the bounds of law, 

And, oft allies and ministers of crime, 

To push through nights and days of the hugest toil 

To rise untrammelled to the peaks of power 

These wounds of life in no mean part are kept 

Festering and open by this fright of death. 

For ever we see fierce Want and foul Disgrace 

Dislodged afar from secure life and sweet, 

Like huddling Shapes before the doors of death. 

And whilst, from these, men wish to scape afar, 

Driven by false terror, and afar remove, 

With civic blood a fortune they amass, 

They double their riches, greedy, heapersup 

Of corpse on corpse they have a cruel laugh 

For the sad burial of a brotherborn, 

And hatred and fear of tables of their kin. 

Likewise, through this same terror, envy oft 

Makes them to peak because before their eyes 

That man is lordly, that man gazed upon 


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Who walks begirt with honour glorious, 

Whilst they in filth and darkness roll around; 

Some perish away for statues and a name, 

And oft to that degree, from fright of death, 

Will hate of living and beholding light 

Take hold on humankind that they inflict 

Their own destruction with a gloomy heart 

Forgetful that this fear is font of cares, 

This fear the plague upon their sense of shame, 

And this that breaks the ties of comradry 

And oversets all reverence and faith, 

Mid direst slaughter. For long ere today 

Often were traitors to country and dear parents 

Through quest to shun the realms of Acheron. 

For just as children tremble and fear all 

In the viewless dark, so even we at times 

Dread in the light so many things that be 

No whit more fearsome than what children feign, 

Shuddering, will be upon them in the dark. 

This terror, then, this darkness of the mind, 

Not sunrise with its flaring spokes of light, 

Nor glittering arrows of morning sun disperse, 

But only Nature's aspect and her law. 

Nature and Composition of the Mind

First, then, I say, the mind which oft we call 

The intellect, wherein is seated life's 

Counsel and regimen, is part no less 

Of man than hand and foot and eyes are parts 

Of one whole breathing creature. But some hold 

That sense of mind is in no fixed part seated, 

But is of body some one vital state, 

Named "harmony" by Greeks, because thereby 

We live with sense, though intellect be not 

In any part: as oft the body is said 

To have good health (when health, however, 's not 

One part of him who has it), so they place 

The sense of mind in no fixed part of man. 

Mightily, diversly, meseems they err. 

Often the body palpable and seen 

Sickens, while yet in some invisible part 

We feel a pleasure; oft the other way, 

A miserable in mind feels pleasure still 

Throughout his body quite the same as when 

A foot may pain without a pain in head. 

Besides, when these our limbs are given o'er 

To gentle sleep and lies the burdened frame 

At random void of sense, a something else 

Is yet within us, which upon that time 

Bestirs itself in many a wise, receiving 

All motions of joy and phantom cares of heart. 

Now, for to see that in man's members dwells 

Also the soul, and body ne'er is wont 

To feel sensation by a "harmony" 

Take this in chief: the fact that life remains 

Oft in our limbs, when much of body's gone; 

Yet that same life, when particles of heat, 

Though few, have scattered been, and through the mouth 


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Air has been given forth abroad, forthwith 

Forever deserts the veins, and leaves the bones. 

Thus mayst thou know that not all particles 

Perform like parts, nor in like manner all 

Are props of weal and safety: rather those 

The seeds of wind and exhalations warm 

Take care that in our members life remains. 

Therefore a vital heat and wind there is 

Within the very body, which at death 

Deserts our frames. And so, since nature of mind 

And even of soul is found to be, as 'twere, 

A part of man, give over "harmony" 

Name to musicians brought from Helicon, 

Unless themselves they filched it otherwise, 

To serve for what was lacking name till then. 

Whate'er it be, they're welcome to it thou, 

Hearken my other maxims. 

Mind and soul, 

I say, are held conjoined one with other, 

And form one single nature of themselves; 

But chief and regnant through the frame entire 

Is still that counsel which we call the mind, 

And that cleaves seated in the midmost breast. 

Here leap dismay and terror; round these haunts 

Be blandishments of joys; and therefore here 

The intellect, the mind. The rest of soul, 

Throughout the body scattered, but obeys 

Moved by the nod and motion of the mind. 

This, for itself, sole through itself, hath thought; 

This for itself hath mirth, even when the thing 

That moves it, moves nor soul nor body at all. 

And as, when head or eye in us is smit 

By assailing pain, we are not tortured then 

Through all the body, so the mind alone 

Is sometimes smitten, or livens with a joy, 

Whilst yet the soul's remainder through the limbs 

And through the frame is stirred by nothing new. 

But when the mind is moved by shock more fierce, 

We mark the whole soul suffering all at once 

Along man's members: sweats and pallors spread 

Over the body, and the tongue is broken, 

And fails the voice away, and ring the ears, 

Mists blind the eyeballs, and the joints collapse, 

Aye, men drop dead from terror of the mind. 

Hence, whoso will can readily remark 

That soul conjoined is with mind, and, when 

'Tis strook by influence of the mind, forthwith 

In turn it hits and drives the body too. 

And this same argument establisheth 

That nature of mind and soul corporeal is: 

For when 'tis seen to drive the members on, 

To snatch from sleep the body, and to change 

The countenance, and the whole state of man 

To rule and turn, what yet could never be 

Sans contact, and sans body contact fails 

Must we not grant that mind and soul consist 

Of a corporeal nature? And besides 

Thou markst that likewise with this body of ours 

Suffers the mind and with our body feels. 

If the dire speed of spear that cleaves the bones 

And bares the inner thews hits not the life, 


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Yet follows a fainting and a foul collapse, 

And, on the ground, dazed tumult in the mind, 

And whiles a wavering will to rise afoot. 

So nature of mind must be corporeal, since 

From stroke and spear corporeal 'tis in throes. 

Now, of what body, what components formed 

Is this same mind I will go on to tell. 

First, I aver, 'tis superfine, composed 

Of tiniest particles that such the fact 

Thou canst perceive, if thou attend, from this: 

Nothing is seen to happen with such speed 

As what the mind proposes and begins; 

Therefore the same bestirs itself more swiftly 

Than aught whose nature's palpable to eyes. 

But what's so agile must of seeds consist 

Most round, most tiny, that they may be moved, 

When hit by impulse slight. So water moves, 

In waves along, at impulse just the least 

Being create of little shapes that roll; 

But, contrariwise, the quality of honey 

More stable is, its liquids more inert, 

More tardy its flow; for all its stock of matter 

Cleaves more together, since, indeed, 'tis made 

Of atoms not so smooth, so fine, and round. 

For the light breeze that hovers yet can blow 

High heaps of poppyseed away for thee 

Downward from off the top; but, contrariwise, 

A pile of stones or spiny ears of wheat 

It can't at all. Thus, in so far as bodies 

Are small and smooth, is their mobility; 

But, contrariwise, the heavier and more rough, 

The more immovable they prove. Now, then, 

Since nature of mind is movable so much, 

Consist it must of seeds exceeding small 

And smooth and round. Which fact once known to thee, 

Good friend, will serve thee opportune in else. 

This also shows the nature of the same, 

How nice its texture, in how small a space 

'Twould go, if once compacted as a pellet: 

When death's unvexed repose gets hold on man 

And mind and soul retire, thou markest there 

From the whole body nothing ta'en in form, 

Nothing in weight. Death grants ye everything, 

But vital sense and exhalation hot. 

Thus soul entire must be of smallmost seeds, 

Twined through the veins, the vitals, and the thews, 

Seeing that, when 'tis from whole body gone, 

The outward figuration of the limbs 

Is unimpaired and weight fails not a whit. 

Just so, when vanished the bouquet of wine, 

Or when an unguent's perfume delicate 

Into the winds away departs, or when 

From any body savour's gone, yet still 

The thing itself seems minished naught to eyes, 

Thereby, nor aught abstracted from its weight 

No marvel, because seeds many and minute 

Produce the savours and the redolence 

In the whole body of the things. And so, 

Again, again, nature of mind and soul 

'Tis thine to know created is of seeds 

The tiniest ever, since at flyingforth 

It beareth nothing of the weight away. 


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Yet fancy not its nature simple so. 

For an impalpable aura, mixed with heat, 

Deserts the dying, and heat draws off the air; 

And heat there's none, unless commixed with air: 

For, since the nature of all heat is rare, 

Athrough it many seeds of air must move. 

Thus nature of mind is triple; yet those all 

Suffice not for creating sense since mind 

Accepteth not that aught of these can cause 

Sensebearing motions, and much less the thoughts 

A man revolves in mind. So unto these 

Must added be a somewhat, and a fourth; 

That somewhat's altogether void of name; 

Than which existeth naught more mobile, naught 

More an impalpable, of elements 

More small and smooth and round. That first transmits 

Sensebearing motions through the frame, for that 

Is roused the first, composed of little shapes; 

Thence heat and viewless force of wind take up 

The motions, and thence air, and thence all things 

Are put in motion; the blood is strook, and then 

The vitals all begin to feel, and last 

To bones and marrow the sensation comes 

Pleasure or torment. Nor will pain for naught 

Enter so far, nor a sharp ill seep through, 

But all things be perturbed to that degree 

That room for life will fail, and parts of soul 

Will scatter through the body's every pore. 

Yet as a rule, almost upon the skin 

These motion aIl are stopped, and this is why 

We have the power to retain our life. 

Now in my eagerness to tell thee how 

They are commixed, through what unions fit 

They function so, my country's pauperspeech 

Constrains me sadly. As I can, however, 

I'll touch some points and pass. In such a wise 

Course these primordials 'mongst one another 

With intermotions that no one can be 

From other sundered, nor its agency 

Perform, if once divided by a space; 

Like many powers in one body they work. 

As in the flesh of any creature still 

Is odour and savour and a certain warmth, 

And yet from an of these one bulk of body 

Is made complete, so, viewless force of wind 

And warmth and air, commingled, do create 

One nature, by that mobile energy 

Assisted which from out itself to them 

Imparts initial motion, whereby first 

Sensebearing motion along the vitals springs. 

For lurks this essence far and deep and under, 

Nor in our body is aught more shut from view, 

And 'tis the very soul of all the soul. 

And as within our members and whole frame 

The energy of mind and power of soul 

Is mixed and latent, since create it is 

Of bodies small and few, so lurks this fourth, 

This essence void of name, composed of small, 

And seems the very soul of all the soul, 

And holds dominion o'er the body all. 

And by like reason wind and air and heat 


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Must function so, commingled through the frame, 

And now the one subside and now another 

In interchange of dominance, that thus 

From all of them one nature be produced, 

Lest heat and wind apart, and air apart, 

Make sense to perish, by disseverment. 

There is indeed in mind that heat it gets 

When seething in rage, and flashes from the eyes 

More swiftly fire; there is, again, that wind, 

Much, and so cold, companion of all dread, 

Which rouses the shudder in the shaken frame; 

There is no less that state of air composed, 

Making the tranquil breast, the serene face. 

But more of hot have they whose restive hearts, 

Whose minds of passion quickly seethe in rage 

Of which kind chief are fierce abounding lions, 

Who often with roaring burst the breast o'erwrought, 

Unable to hold the surging wrath within; 

But the cold mind of stags has more of wind, 

And speedier through their inwards rouses up 

The icy currents which make their members quake. 

But more the oxen live by tranquil air, 

Nor e'er doth smoky torch of wrath applied, 

O'erspreading with shadows of a darkling murk, 

Rouse them too far; nor will they stiffen stark, 

Pierced through by icy javelins of fear; 

But have their place halfway between the two 

Stags and fierce lions. Thus the race of men: 

Though training make them equally refined, 

It leaves those pristine vestiges behind 

Of each mind's nature. Nor may we suppose 

Evil can e'er be rooted up so far 

That one man's not more given to fits of wrath, 

Another's not more quickly touched by fear, 

A third not more longsuffering than he should. 

And needs must differ in many things besides 

The varied natures and resulting habits 

Of humankind of which not now can I 

Expound the hidden causes, nor find names 

Enough for all the divers shapes of those 

Primordials whence this variation springs. 

But this meseems I'm able to declare: 

Those vestiges of natures left behind 

Which reason cannot quite expel from us 

Are still so slight that naught prevents a man 

From living a life even worthy of the gods. 

So then this soul is kept by all the body, 

Itself the body's guard, and source of weal; 

For they with common roots cleave each to each, 

Nor can be torn asunder without death. 

Not easy 'tis from lumps of frankincense 

To tear their fragrance forth, without its nature 

Perishing likewise: so, not easy 'tis 

From all the body nature of mind and soul 

To draw away, without the whole dissolved. 

With seeds so intertwined even from birth, 

They're dowered conjointly with a partnerlife; 

No energy of body or mind, apart, 

Each of itself without the other's power, 

Can have sensation; but our sense, enkindled 

Along the vitals, to flame is blown by both 


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With mutual motions. Besides the body alone 

Is nor begot nor grows, nor after death 

Seen to endure. For not as water at times 

Gives off the alien heat, nor is thereby 

Itself destroyed, but unimpaired remains 

Not thus, I say, can the deserted frame 

Bear the dissevering of its joined soul, 

But, rent and ruined, moulders all away. 

Thus the joint contact of the body and soul 

Learns from their earliest age the vital motions, 

Even when still buried in the mother's womb; 

So no dissevering can hap to them, 

Without their bane and ill. And thence mayst see 

That, as conjoined is their source of weal, 

Conjoined also must their nature be. 

If one, moreover, denies that body feel, 

And holds that soul, through all the body mixed, 

Takes on this motion which we title "sense" 

He battles in vain indubitable facts: 

For who'll explain what body's feeling is, 

Except by what the public fact itself 

Has given and taught us? "But when soul is parted, 

Body's without all sense." True! loses what 

Was even in its lifetime not its own; 

And much beside it loses, when soul's driven 

Forth from that lifetime. Or, to say that eyes 

Themselves can see no thing, but through the same 

The mind looks forth, as out of opened doors, 

Is a hard saying; since the feel in eyes 

Says the reverse. For this itself draws on 

And forces into the pupils of our eyes 

Our consciousness. And note the case when often 

We lack the power to see refulgent things, 

Because our eyes are hampered by their light 

With a mere doorway this would happen not; 

For, since it is our very selves that see, 

No open portals undertake the toil. 

Besides, if eyes of ours but act as doors, 

Methinks that, were our sight removed, the mind 

Ought then still better to behold a thing 

When even the doorposts have been cleared away. 

Herein in these affairs nowise take up 

What honoured sage, Democritus, lays down 

That proposition, that primordials 

Of body and mind, each superposed on each, 

Vary alternately and interweave 

The fabric of our members. For not only 

Are the soulelements smaller far than those 

Which this our body and inward parts compose, 

But also are they in their number less, 

And scattered sparsely through our frame. And thus 

This canst thou guarantee: soul's primal germs 

Maintain between them intervals as large 

At least as are the smallest bodies, which, 

When thrown against us, in our body rouse 

Sensebearing motions. Hence it comes that we 

Sometimes don't feel alighting on our frames 

The clinging dust, or chalk that settles soft; 

Nor mists of night, nor spider's gossamer 

We feel against us, when, upon our road, 


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Its net entangles us, nor on our head 

The dropping of its withered garmentings; 

Nor birdfeathers, nor vegetable down, 

Flying about, so light they barely fall; 

Nor feel the steps of every crawling thing, 

Nor each of all those footprints on our skin 

Of midges and the like. To that degree 

Must many primal germs be stirred in us 

Ere once the seeds of soul that through our frame 

Are intermingled 'gin to feel that those 

Primordials of the body have been strook, 

And ere, in pounding with such gaps between, 

They clash, combine and leap apart in turn. 

But mind is more the keeper of the gates, 

Hath more dominion over life than soul. 

For without intellect and mind there's not 

One part of soul can rest within our frame 

Least part of time; companioning, it goes 

With mind into the winds away, and leaves 

The icy members in the cold of death. 

But he whose mind and intellect abide 

Himself abides in life. However much 

The trunk be mangled, with the limbs lopped off, 

The soul withdrawn and taken from the limbs, 

Still lives the trunk and draws the vital air. 

Even when deprived of all but all the soul, 

Yet will it linger on and cleave to life, 

Just as the power of vision still is strong, 

If but the pupil shall abide unharmed, 

Even when the eye around it's sorely rent 

Provided only thou destroyest not 

Wholly the ball, but, cutting round the pupil, 

Leavest that pupil by itself behind 

For more would ruin sight. But if that centre, 

That tiny part of eye, be eaten through, 

Forthwith the vision fails and darkness comes, 

Though in all else the unblemished ball be clear. 

'Tis by like compact that the soul and mind 

Are each to other bound forevermore. 

The Soul is Mortal

Now come: that thou mayst able be to know 

That minds and the light souls of all that live 

Have mortal birth and death, I will go on 

Verses to build meet for thy rule of life, 

Sought after long, discovered with sweet toil. 

But under one name I'd have thee yoke them both; 

And when, for instance, I shall speak of soul, 

Teaching the same to be but mortal, think 

Thereby I'm speaking also of the mind 

Since both are one, a substance interjoined. 

First, then, since I have taught how soul exists 

A subtle fabric, of particles minute, 

Made up from atoms smaller much than those 

Of water's liquid damp, or fog, or smoke, 

So in mobility it far excels, 

More prone to move, though strook by lighter cause 


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Even moved by images of smoke or fog 

As where we view, when in our sleeps we're lulled, 

The altars exhaling steam and smoke aloft 

For, beyond doubt, these apparitions come 

To us from outward. Now, then, since thou seest, 

Their liquids depart, their waters flow away, 

When jars are shivered, and since fog and smoke 

Depart into the winds away, believe 

The soul no less is shed abroad and dies 

More quickly far, more quickly is dissolved 

Back to its primal bodies, when withdrawn 

From out man's members it has gone away. 

For, sure, if body (container of the same 

Like as a jar), when shivered from some cause, 

And rarefied by loss of blood from veins, 

Cannot for longer hold the soul, how then 

Thinkst thou it can be held by any air 

A stuff much rarer than our bodies be? 

Besides we feel that mind to being comes 

Along with body, with body grows and ages. 

For just as children totter round about 

With frames infirm and tender, so there follows 

A weakling wisdom in their minds; and then, 

Where years have ripened into robust powers, 

Counsel is also greater, more increased 

The power of mind; thereafter, where already 

The body's shattered by masterpowers of eld, 

And fallen the frame with its enfeebled powers, 

Thought hobbles, tongue wanders, and the mind gives way;

All fails, all's lacking at the selfsame time. 

Therefore it suits that even the soul's dissolved, 

Like smoke, into the lofty winds of air; 

Since we behold the same to being come 

Along with body and grow, and, as I've taught, 

Crumble and crack, therewith outworn by eld. 

Then, too, we see, that, just as body takes 

Monstrous diseases and the dreadful pain, 

So mind its bitter cares, the grief, the fear; 

Wherefore it tallies that the mind no less 

Partaker is of death; for pain and disease 

Are both artificers of death, as well 

We've learned by the passing of many a man ere now. 

Nay, too, in diseases of body, often the mind 

Wanders afield; for 'tis beside itself, 

And crazed it speaks, or many a time it sinks, 

With eyelids closing and a drooping nod, 

In heavy drowse, on to eternal sleep; 

From whence nor hears it any voices more, 

Nor able is to know the faces here 

Of those about him standing with wet cheeks 

Who vainly call him back to light and life. 

Wherefore mind too, confess we must, dissolves, 

Seeing, indeed, contagions of disease 

Enter into the same. Again, O why, 

When the strong wine has entered into man, 

And its diffused fire gone round the veins, 

Why follows then a heaviness of limbs, 

A tangle of the legs as round he reels, 

A stuttering tongue, an intellect besoaked, 


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Eyes all aswim, and hiccups, shouts, and brawls 

And whatso else is of that ilk? Why this? 

If not that violent and impetuous wine 

Is wont to confound the soul within the body? 

But whatso can confounded be and balked, 

Gives proof, that if a hardier cause got in, 

'Twould hap that it would perish then, bereaved 

Of any life thereafter. And, moreover, 

Often will some one in a sudden fit, 

As if by stroke of lightning, tumble down 

Before our eyes, and sputter foam, and grunt, 

Blither, and twist about with sinews taut, 

Gasp up in starts, and weary out his limbs 

With tossing round. No marvel, since distract 

Through frame by violence of disease. 

Confounds, he foams, as if to vomit soul, 

As on the salt sea boil the billows round 

Under the master might of winds. And now 

A groan's forced out, because his limbs are griped 

But, in the main, because the seeds of voice 

Are driven forth and carried in a mass 

Outwards by mouth, where they are wont to go, 

And have a builded highway. He becomes 

Mere fool, since energy of mind and soul 

Confounded is, and, as I've shown, toriven, 

Asunder thrown, and torn to pieces all 

By the same venom. But, again, where cause 

Of that disease has faced about, and back 

Retreats sharp poison of corrupted frame 

Into its shadowy lairs, the man at first 

Arises reeling, and gradually comes back 

To all his senses and recovers soul. 

Thus, since within the body itself of man 

The mind and soul are by such great diseases 

Shaken, so miserably in labour distraught, 

Why, then, believe that in the open air, 

Without a body, they can pass their life, 

Immortal, battling with the master winds? 

And, since we mark the mind itself is cured, 

Like the sick body, and restored can be 

By medicine, this is forewarning to 

That mortal lives the mind. For proper it is 

That whosoe'er begins and undertakes 

To alter the mind, or meditates to change 

Any another nature soever, should add 

New parts, or readjust the order given, 

Or from the sum remove at least a bit. 

But what's immortal willeth for itself 

Its parts be nor increased, nor rearranged, 

Nor any bit soever flow away: 

For change of anything from out its bounds 

Means instant death of that which was before. 

Ergo, the mind, whether in sickness fallen, 

Or by the medicine restored, gives signs, 

As I have taught, of its mortality. 

So surely will a fact of truth make head 

'Gainst errors' theories all, and so shut off 

All refuge from the adversary, and rout 

Error by twoedged confutation. 

And since the mind is of a man one part, 


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Which in one fixed place remains, like ears, 

And eyes, and every sense which pilots life; 

And just as hand, or eye, or nose, apart, 

Severed from us, can neither feel nor be, 

But in the least of time is left to rot, 

Thus mind alone can never be, without 

The body and the man himself, which seems, 

As 'twere the vessel of the same or aught 

Whate'er thou'lt feign as yet more closely joined: 

Since body cleaves to mind by surest bonds. 

Again, the body's and the mind's live powers 

Only in union prosper and enjoy; 

For neither can nature of mind, alone of itself 

Sans body, give the vital motions forth; 

Nor, then, can body, wanting soul, endure 

And use the senses. Verily, as the eye, 

Alone, uprended from its roots, apart 

From all the body, can peer about at naught, 

So soul and mind it seems are nothing able, 

When by themselves. No marvel, because, commixed 

Through veins and inwards, and through bones and thews, 

Their elements primordial are confined 

By all the body, and own no power free 

To bound around through interspaces big, 

Thus, shut within these confines, they take on 

Motions of sense, which, after death, thrown out 

Beyond the body to the winds of air, 

Take on they cannot and on this account, 

Because no more in such a way confined. 

For air will be a body, be alive, 

If in that air the soul can keep itself, 

And in that air enclose those motions all 

Which in the thews and in the body itself 

A while ago 'twas making. So for this, 

Again, again, I say confess we must, 

That, when the body's wrappings are unwound, 

And when the vital breath is forced without, 

The soul, the senses of the mind dissolve, 

Since for the twain the cause and ground of life 

Is in the fact of their conjoined estate. 

Once more, since body's unable to sustain 

Division from the soul, without decay 

And obscene stench, how canst thou doubt but that 

The soul, uprisen from the body's deeps, 

Has filtered away, widedrifted like a smoke, 

Or that the changed body crumbling fell 

With ruin so entire, because, indeed, 

Its deep foundations have been moved from place, 

The soul outfiltering even through the frame, 

And through the body's every winding way 

And orifice? And so by many means 

Thou'rt free to learn that nature of the soul 

Hath passed in fragments out along the frame, 

And that 'twas shivered in the very body 

Ere ever it slipped abroad and swam away 

Into the winds of air. For never a man 

Dying appears to feel the soul go forth 

As one sure whole from all his body at once, 

Nor first come up the throat and into mouth; 

But feels it failing in a certain spot, 


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Even as he knows the senses too dissolve 

Each in its own location in the frame. 

But were this mind of ours immortal mind, 

Dying 'twould scarce bewail a dissolution, 

But rather the going, the leaving of its coat, 

Like to a snake. Wherefore, when once the body 

Hath passed away, admit we must that soul, 

Shivered in all that body, perished too. 

Nay, even when moving in the bounds of life, 

Often the soul, now tottering from some cause, 

Craves to go out, and from the frame entire 

Loosened to be; the countenance becomes 

Flaccid, as if the supreme hour were there; 

And flabbily collapse the members all 

Against the bloodless trunk the kind of case 

We see when we remark in common phrase, 

"That man's quite gone," or "fainted dead away"; 

And where there's now a bustle of alarm, 

And all are eager to get some hold upon 

The man's last link of life. For then the mind 

And all the power of soul are shook so sore, 

And these so totter along with all the frame, 

That any cause a little stronger might 

Dissolve them altogether. Why, then, doubt 

That soul, when once without the body thrust, 

There in the open, an enfeebled thing, 

Its wrappings stripped away, cannot endure 

Not only through no everlasting age, 

But even, indeed, through not the least of time? 

Then, too, why never is the intellect, 

The counselling mind, begotten in the head, 

The feet, the hands, instead of cleaving still 

To one sole seat, to one fixed haunt, the breast, 

If not that fixed places be assigned 

For each thing's birth, where each, when 'tis create, 

Is able to endure, and that our frames 

Have such complex adjustments that no shift 

In order of our members may appear? 

To that degree effect succeeds to cause, 

Nor is the flame once wont to be create 

In flowing streams, nor cold begot in fire. 

Besides, if nature of soul immortal be, 

And able to feel, when from our frame disjoined, 

The same, I fancy, must be thought to be 

Endowed with senses five, nor is there way 

But this whereby to image to ourselves 

How undersouls may roam in Acheron. 

Thus painters and the elder race of bards 

Have pictured souls with senses so endowed. 

But neither eyes, nor nose, nor hand, alone 

Apart from body can exist for soul, 

Nor tongue nor ears apart. And hence indeed 

Alone by self they can nor feel nor be. 

And since we mark the vital sense to be 

In the whole body, all one living thing, 

If of a sudden a force with rapid stroke 

Should slice it down the middle and cleave in twain, 

Beyond a doubt likewise the soul itself, 

Divided, dissevered, asunder will be flung 

Along with body. But what severed is 


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And into sundry parts divides, indeed 

Admits it owns no everlasting nature. 

We hear how chariots of war, areek 

With hurly slaughter, lop with flashing scythes 

The limbs away so suddenly that there, 

Fallen from the trunk, they quiver on the earth, 

The while the mind and powers of the man 

Can feel no pain, for swiftness of his hurt, 

And sheer abandon in the zest of battle: 

With the remainder of his frame he seeks 

Anew the battle and the slaughter, nor marks 

How the swift wheels and scythes of ravin have dragged 

Off with the horses his left arm and shield; 

Nor other how his right has dropped away, 

Mounting again and on. A third attempts 

With leg dismembered to arise and stand, 

Whilst, on the ground hard by, the dying foot 

Twitches its spreading toes. And even the head, 

When from the warm and living trunk lopped off, 

Keeps on the ground the vital countenance 

And open eyes, until 't has rendered up 

All remnants of the soul. Nay, once again: 

If, when a serpent's darting forth its tongue, 

And lashing its tail, thou gettest chance to hew 

With axe its length of trunk to many parts, 

Thou'lt see each severed fragment writhing round 

With its fresh wound, and spattering up the sod, 

And there the forepart seeking with the jaws 

After the hinder, with bite to stop the pain. 

So shall we say that these be souls entire 

In all those fractions? but from that 'twould follow 

One creature'd have in body many souls. 

Therefore, the soul, which was indeed but one, 

Has been divided with the body too: 

Each is but mortal, since alike is each 

Hewn into many parts. Again, how often 

We view our fellow going by degrees, 

And losing limb by limb the vital sense; 

First nails and fingers of the feet turn blue, 

Next die the feet and legs, then o'er the rest 

Slow crawl the certain footsteps of cold death. 

And since this nature of the soul is torn, 

Nor mounts away, as at one time, entire, 

We needs must hold it mortal. But perchance 

If thou supposest that the soul itself 

Can inward draw along the frame, and bring 

Its parts together to one place, and so 

From all the members draw the sense away, 

Why, then, that place in which such stock of soul 

Collected is, should greater seem in sense. 

But since such place is nowhere, for a fact, 

As said before, 'tis rent and scattered forth, 

And so goes under. Or again, if now 

I please to grant the false, and say that soul 

Can thus be lumped within the frames of those 

Who leave the sunshine, dying bit by bit, 

Still must the soul as mortal be confessed; 

Nor aught it matters whether to wrack it go, 

Dispersed in the winds, or, gathered in a mass 

From all its parts, sink down to brutish death, 

Since more and more in every region sense 

Fails the whole man, and less and less of life 


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In every region lingers. 

And besides, 

If soul immortal is, and winds its way 

Into the body at the birth of man, 

Why can we not remember something, then, 

Of lifetime spent before? why keep we not 

Some footprints of the things we did of, old? 

But if so changed hath been the power of mind, 

That every recollection of things done 

Is fallen away, at no o'erlong remove 

Is that, I trow, from what we mean by death. 

Wherefore 'tis sure that what hath been before 

Hath died, and what now is is now create. 

Moreover, if after the body hath been built 

Our mind's live powers are wont to be put in, 

Just at the moment that we come to birth, 

And cross the sills of life, 'twould scarcely fit 

For them to live as if they seemed to grow 

Along with limbs and frame, even in the blood, 

But rather as in a cavern all alone. 

(Yet all the body duly throngs with sense.) 

But public fact declares against all this: 

For soul is so entwined through the veins, 

The flesh, the thews, the bones, that even the teeth 

Share in sensation, as proven by dull ache, 

By twinge from icy water, or grating crunch 

Upon a stone that got in mouth with bread. 

Wherefore, again, again, souls must be thought 

Nor void of birth, nor free from law of death; 

Nor, if, from outward, in they wound their way, 

Could they be thought as able so to cleave 

To these our frames, nor, since so interwove, 

Appears it that they're able to go forth 

Unhurt and whole and loose themselves unscathed 

From all the thews, articulations, bones. 

But, if perchance thou thinkest that the soul, 

From outward winding in its way, is wont 

To seep and soak along these members ours, 

Then all the more 'twill perish, being thus 

With body fused for what will seep and soak 

Will be dissolved and will therefore die. 

For just as food, dispersed through all the pores 

Of body, and passed through limbs and all the frame, 

Perishes, supplying from itself the stuff 

For other nature, thus the soul and mind, 

Though whole and new into a body going, 

Are yet, by seeping in, dissolved away, 

Whilst, as through pores, to all the frame there pass 

Those particles from which created is 

This nature of mind, now ruler of our body, 

Born from that soul which perished, when divided 

Along the frame. Wherefore it seems that soul 

Hath both a natal and funeral hour. 

Besides are seeds of soul there left behind 

In the breathless body, or not? If there they are, 

It cannot justly be immortal deemed, 

Since, shorn of some parts lost, 'thas gone away: 

But if, borne off with members uncorrupt, 

'Thas fled so absolutely all away 

It leaves not one remainder of itself 

Behind in body, whence do cadavers, then, 

From out their putrid flesh exhale the worms, 


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And whence does such a mass of living things, 

Boneless and bloodless, o'er the bloated frame 

Bubble and swarm? But if perchance thou thinkest 

That souls from outward into worms can wind, 

And each into a separate body come, 

And reckonest not why many thousand souls 

Collect where only one has gone away, 

Here is a point, in sooth, that seems to need 

Inquiry and a putting to the test: 

Whether the souls go on a hunt for seeds 

Of worms wherewith to build their dwelling places, 

Or enter bodies readymade, as 'twere. 

But why themselves they thus should do and toil 

'Tis hard to say, since, being free of body, 

They flit around, harassed by no disease, 

Nor cold nor famine; for the body labours 

By more of kinship to these flaws of life, 

And mind by contact with that body suffers 

So many ills. But grant it be for them 

However useful to construct a body 

To which to enter in, 'tis plain they can't. 

Then, souls for self no frames nor bodies make, 

Nor is there how they once might enter in 

To bodies readymade for they cannot 

Be nicely interwoven with the same, 

And there'll be formed no interplay of sense 

Common to each. 

Again, why is't there goes 

Impetuous rage with lion's breed morose, 

And cunning with foxes, and to deer why given 

The ancestral fear and tendency to flee, 

And why in short do all the rest of traits 

Engender from the very start of life 

In the members and mentality, if not 

Because one certain power of mind that came 

From its own seed and breed waxes the same 

Along with all the body? But were mind 

Immortal, were it wont to change its bodies, 

How topsyturvy would earth's creatures act! 

The Hyrcan hound would flee the onset oft 

Of antlered stag, the scurrying hawk would quake 

Along the winds of air at the coming dove, 

And men would dote, and savage beasts be wise; 

For false the reasoning of those that say 

Immortal mind is changed by change of body 

For what is changed dissolves, and therefore dies. 

For parts are redisposed and leave their order; 

Wherefore they must be also capable 

Of dissolution through the frame at last, 

That they along with body perish all. 

But should some say that always souls of men 

Go into human bodies, I will ask: 

How can a wise become a dullard soul? 

And why is never a child's a prudent soul? 

And the mare's filly why not trained so well 

As sturdy strength of steed? We may be sure 

They'll take their refuge in the thought that mind 

Becomes a weakling in a weakling frame. 

Yet be this so, 'tis needful to confess 

The soul but mortal, since, so altered now 

Throughout the frame, it loses the life and sense 

It had before. Or how can mind wax strong 


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Coequally with body and attain 

The craved flower of life, unless it be 

The body's colleague in its origins? 

Or what's the purport of its going forth 

From aged limbs? fears it, perhaps, to stay, 

Pent in a crumbled body? Or lest its house, 

Outworn by venerable length of days, 

May topple down upon it? But indeed 

For an immortal, perils are there none. 

Again, at parturitions of the wild 

And at the rites of Love, that souls should stand 

Ready hard by seems ludicrous enough 

Immortals waiting for their mortal limbs 

In numbers innumerable, contending madly 

Which shall be first and chief to enter in! 

Unless perchance among the souls there be 

Such treaties stablished that the first to come 

Flying along, shall enter in the first, 

And that they make no rivalries of strength! 

Again, in ether can't exist a tree, 

Nor clouds in ocean deeps, nor in the fields 

Can fishes live, nor blood in timber be, 

Nor sap in boulders: fixed and arranged 

Where everything may grow and have its place. 

Thus nature of mind cannot arise alone 

Without the body, nor exist afar 

From thews and blood. But if 'twere possible, 

Much rather might this very power of mind 

Be in the head, the shoulders or the heels, 

And, born in any part soever, yet 

In the same man, in the same vessel abide. 

But since within this body even of ours 

Stands fixed and appears arranged sure 

Where soul and mind can each exist and grow, 

Deny we must the more that they can have 

Duration and birth, wholly outside the frame. 

For, verily, the mortal to conjoin 

With the eternal, and to feign they feel 

Together, and can function each with each, 

Is but to dote: for what can be conceived 

Of more unlike, discrepant, illassorted, 

Than something mortal in a union joined 

With an immortal and a secular 

To bear the outrageous tempests? 

Then, again, 

Whatever abides eternal must indeed 

Either repel all strokes, because 'tis made 

Of solid body, and permit no entrance 

Of aught with power to sunder from within 

The parts compact as are those seeds of stuff 

Whose nature we've exhibited before; 

Or else be able to endure through time 

For this: because they are from blows exempt, 

As is the void, the which abides untouched, 

Unsmit by any stroke; or else because 

There is no room around, whereto things can, 

As 'twere, depart in dissolution all, 

Even as the sum of sums eternal is, 

Without or place beyond whereto things may 

Asunder fly, or bodies which can smite, 


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And thus dissolve them by the blows of might. 

But if perchance the soul's to be adjudged 

Immortal, mainly on ground 'tis kept secure 

In vital forces either because there come 

Never at all things hostile to its weal, 

Or else because what come somehow retire, 

Repelled or ere we feel the harm they work, 

For, lo, besides that, when the frame's diseased, 

Soul sickens too, there cometh, many a time, 

That which torments it with the things to be, 

Keeps it in dread, and wearies it with cares; 

And even when evil acts are of the past, 

Still gnaw the old transgressions bitterly. 

Add, too, that frenzy, peculiar to the mind, 

And that oblivion of the things that were; 

Add its submergence in the murky waves 

Of drowse and torpor. 

Folly of the Fear of Death

Therefore death to us 

Is nothing, nor concerns us in the least, 

Since nature of mind is mortal evermore. 

And just as in the ages gone before 

We felt no touch of ill, when all sides round 

To battle came the Carthaginian host, 

And the times, shaken by tumultuous war, 

Under the aery coasts of arching heaven 

Shuddered and trembled, and all humankind 

Doubted to which the empery should fall 

By land and sea, thus when we are no more, 

When comes that sundering of our body and soul 

Through which we're fashioned to a single state, 

Verily naught to us, us then no more, 

Can come to pass, naught move our senses then 

No, not if earth confounded were with sea, 

And sea with heaven. But if indeed do feel 

The nature of mind and energy of soul, 

After their severance from this body of ours, 

Yet nothing 'tis to us who in the bonds 

And wedlock of the soul and body live, 

Through which we're fashioned to a single state. 

And, even if time collected after death 

The matter of our frames and set it all 

Again in place as now, and if again 

To us the light of life were given, O yet 

That process too would not concern us aught, 

When once the selfsuccession of our sense 

Has been asunder broken. And now and here, 

Little enough we're busied with the selves 

We were aforetime, nor, concerning them, 

Suffer a sore distress. For shouldst thou gaze 

Backwards across all yesterdays of time 

The immeasurable, thinking how manifold 

The motions of matter are, then couldst thou well 

Credit this too: often these very seeds 

(From which we are today) of old were set 

In the same order as they are today 


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Yet this we can't to consciousness recall 

Through the remembering mind. For there hath been 

An interposed pause of life, and wide 

Have all the motions wandered everywhere 

From these our senses. For if woe and ail 

Perchance are toward, then the man to whom 

The bane can happen must himself be there 

At that same time. But death precludeth this, 

Forbidding life to him on whom might crowd 

Such irk and care; and granted 'tis to know: 

Nothing for us there is to dread in death, 

No wretchedness for him who is no more, 

The same estate as if ne'er born before, 

When death immortal hath ta'en the mortal life. 

Hence, where thou seest a man to grieve because 

When dead he rots with body laid away, 

Or perishes in flames or jaws of beasts, 

Know well: he rings not true, and that beneath 

Still works an unseen sting upon his heart, 

However he deny that he believes. 

His shall be aught of feeling after death. 

For he, I fancy, grants not what he says, 

Nor what that presupposes, and he fails 

To pluck himself with all his roots from life 

And cast that self away, quite unawares 

Feigning that some remainder's left behind. 

For when in life one pictures to oneself 

His body dead by beasts and vultures torn, 

He pities his state, dividing not himself 

Therefrom, removing not the self enough 

From the body flung away, imagining 

Himself that body, and projecting there 

His own sense, as he stands beside it: hence 

He grieves that he is mortal born, nor marks 

That in true death there is no second self 

Alive and able to sorrow for self destroyed, 

Or stand lamenting that the self lies there 

Mangled or burning. For if it an evil is 

Dead to be jerked about by jaw and fang 

Of the wild brutes, I see not why 'twere not 

Bitter to lie on fires and roast in flames, 

Or suffocate in honey, and, reclined 

On the smooth oblong of an icy slab, 

Grow stiff in cold, or sink with load of earth 

Downcrushing from above. 

"Thee now no more 

The joyful house and best of wives shall welcome, 

Nor little sons run up to snatch their kisses 

And touch with silent happiness thy heart. 

Thou shalt not speed in undertakings more, 

Nor be the warder of thine own no more. 

Poor wretch," they say, "one hostile hour hath ta'en 

Wretchedly from thee all life's many guerdons," 

But add not, "yet no longer unto thee 

Remains a remnant of desire for them" 

If this they only well perceived with mind 

And followed up with maxims, they would free 

Their state of man from anguish and from fear. 

"O even as here thou art, aslumber in death, 

So shalt thou slumber down the rest of time, 

Released from every harrying pang. But we, 


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We have bewept thee with insatiate woe, 

Standing beside whilst on the awful pyre 

Thou wert made ashes; and no day shall take 

For us the eternal sorrow from the breast." 

But ask the mourner what's the bitterness 

That man should waste in an eternal grief, 

If, after all, the thing's but sleep and rest? 

For when the soul and frame together are sunk 

In slumber, no one then demands his self 

Or being. Well, this sleep may be forever, 

Without desire of any selfhood more, 

For all it matters unto us asleep. 

Yet not at all do those primordial germs 

Roam round our members, at that time, afar 

From their own motions that produce our senses 

Since, when he's startled from his sleep, a man 

Collects his senses. Death is, then, to us 

Much less if there can be a less than that 

Which is itself a nothing: for there comes 

Hard upon death a scattering more great 

Of the throng of matter, and no man wakes up 

On whom once falls the icy pause of life. 

This too, O often from the soul men say, 

Along their couches holding of the cups, 

With faces shaded by fresh wreaths awry: 

"Brief is this fruit of joy to paltry man, 

Soon, soon departed, and thereafter, no, 

It may not be recalled." As if, forsooth, 

It were their prime of evils in great death 

To parch, poor tongues, with thirst and arid drought, 

Or chafe for any lack. 

Once more, if Nature 

Should of a sudden send a voice abroad, 

And her own self inveigh against us so: 

"Mortal, what hast thou of such grave concern 

That thou indulgest in too sickly plaints? 

Why this bemoaning and beweeping death? 

For if thy life aforetime and behind 

To thee was grateful, and not all thy good 

Was heaped as in sieve to flow away 

And perish unavailingly, why not, 

Even like a banqueter, depart the halls, 

Laden with life? why not with mind content 

Take now, thou fool, thy unafflicted rest? 

But if whatever thou enjoyed hath been 

Lavished and lost, and life is now offence, 

Why seekest more to add which in its turn 

Will perish foully and fall out in vain? 

O why not rather make an end of life, 

Of labour? For all I may devise or find 

To pleasure thee is nothing: all things are 

The same forever. Though not yet thy body 

Wrinkles with years, nor yet the frame exhausts 

Outworn, still things abide the same, even if 

Thou goest on to conquer all of time 

With length of days, yea, if thou never diest" 

What were our answer, but that Nature here 

Urges just suit and in her words lays down 

True cause of action? Yet should one complain, 

Riper in years and elder, and lament, 

Poor devil, his death more sorely than is fit, 

Then would she not, with greater right, on him 


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Cry out, inveighing with a voice more shrill: 

"Off with thy tears, and choke thy whines, buffoon! 

Thou wrinklest after thou hast had the sum 

Of the guerdons of life; yet, since thou cravest ever 

What's not at hand, contemning present good, 

That life has slipped away, unperfected 

And unavailing unto thee. And now, 

Or ere thou guessed it, death beside thy head 

Stands and before thou canst be going home 

Sated and laden with the goodly feast. 

But now yield all that's alien to thine age, 

Up, with good grace! make room for sons: thou must." 

Justly, I fancy, would she reason thus, 

Justly inveigh and gird: since ever the old 

Outcrowded by the new gives way, and ever 

The one thing from the others is repaired. 

Nor no man is consigned to the abyss 

Of Tartarus, the black. For stuff must be, 

That thus the aftergenerations grow, 

Though these, their life completed, follow thee; 

And thus like thee are generations all 

Already fallen, or some time to fall. 

So one thing from another rises ever; 

And in feesimple life is given to none, 

But unto all mere usufruct. 

Look back: 

Nothing to us was all forepassed eld 

Of time the eternal, ere we had a birth. 

And Nature holds this like a mirror up 

Of timetobe when we are dead and gone. 

And what is there so horrible appears? 

Now what is there so sad about it all? 

Is't not serener far than any sleep? 

And, verily, those tortures said to be 

In Acheron, the deep, they all are ours 

Here in this life. No Tantalus, benumbed 

With baseless terror, as the fables tell, 

Fears the huge boulder hanging in the air: 

But, rather, in life an empty dread of gods 

Urges mortality, and each one fears 

Such fall of fortune as may chance to him. 

Nor eat the vultures into Tityus 

Prostrate in Acheron, nor can they find, 

Forsooth, throughout eternal ages, aught 

To pry around for in that mighty breast. 

However hugely he extend his bulk 

Who hath for outspread limbs not acres nine, 

But the whole earth he shall not able be 

To bear eternal pain nor furnish food 

From his own frame forever. But for us 

A Tityus is he whom vultures rend 

Prostrate in love, whom anxious anguish eats, 

Whom troubles of any unappeased desires 

Asunder rip. We have before our eyes 

Here in this life also a Sisyphus 

In him who seeketh of the populace 

The rods, the axes fell, and evermore 

Retires a beaten and a gloomy man. 

For to seek after power an empty name, 

Nor given at all and ever in the search 

To endure a world of toil, O this it is 

To shove with shoulder up the hill a stone 


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Which yet comes rolling back from off the top, 

And headlong makes for levels of the plain. 

Then to be always feeding an ingrate mind, 

Filling with good things, satisfying never 

As do the seasons of the year for us, 

When they return and bring their progenies 

And varied charms, and we are never filled 

With the fruits of life O this, I fancy, 'tis 

To pour, like those young virgins in the tale, 

Waters into a sieve, unfilled forever. 

Cerberus and Furies, and that Lack of Light

Tartarus, outbelching from his mouth the surge 

Of horrible heat the which are nowhere, nor 

Indeed can be: but in this life is fear 

Of retributions just and expiations 

For evil acts: the dungeon and the leap 

From that dread rock of infamy, the stripes, 

The executioners, the oaken rack, 

The iron plates, bitumen, and the torch. 

And even though these are absent, yet the mind, 

With a forefearing conscience, plies its goads 

And burns beneath the lash, nor sees meanwhile 

What terminus of ills, what end of pine 

Can ever be, and feareth lest the same 

But grow more heavy after death. Of truth, 

The life of fools is Acheron on earth. 

This also to thy very self sometimes 

Repeat thou mayst: "Lo, even good Ancus left 

The sunshine with his eyes, in divers things 

A better man than thou, O worthless hind; 

And many other kings and lords of rule 

Thereafter have gone under, once who swayed 

O'er mighty peoples. And he also, he 

Who whilom paved a highway down the sea, 

And gave his legionaries thoroughfare 

Along the deep, and taught them how to cross 

The pools of brine afoot, and did contemn, 

Trampling upon it with his cavalry, 

The bellowings of ocean poured his soul 

From dying body, as his light was ta'en. 

And Scipio's son, the thunderbolt of war, 

Horror of Carthage, gave his bones to earth, 

Like to the lowliest villein in the house. 

Add findersout of sciences and arts; 

Add comrades of the Heliconian dames, 

Among whom Homer, sceptered o'er them all 

Now lies in slumber sunken with the rest. 

Then, too, Democritus, when ripened eld 

Admonished him his memory waned away, 

Of own accord offered his head to death. 

Even Epicurus went, his light of life 

Run out, the man in genius who o'ertopped 

The human race, extinguishing all others, 

As sun, in ether arisen, all the stars. 

Wilt thou, then, dally, thou complain to go? 

For whom already life's as good as dead, 

Whilst yet thou livest and lookest? who in sleep 


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Wastest thy life time's major part, and snorest 

Even when awake, and ceasest not to see 

The stuff of dreams, and bearest a mind beset 

By baseless terror, nor discoverest oft 

What's wrong with thee, when, like a sotted wretch, 

Thou'rt jostled along by many crowding cares, 

And wanderest reeling round, with mind aswim." 

If men, in that same way as on the mind 

They feel the load that wearies with its weight, 

Could also know the causes whence it comes, 

And why so great the heap of ill on heart, 

O not in this sort would they live their life, 

As now so much we see them, knowing not 

What 'tis they want, and seeking ever and ever 

A change of place, as if to drop the burden. 

The man who sickens of his home goes out, 

Forth from his splendid halls, and straight returns, 

Feeling i'faith no better off abroad. 

He races, driving his Gallic ponies along, 

Down to his villa, madly, as in haste 

To hurry help to a house afire. At once 

He yawns, as soon as foot has touched the threshold, 

Or drowsily goes off in sleep and seeks 

Forgetfulness, or maybe bustles about 

And makes for town again. In such a way 

Each human flees himself a self in sooth, 

As happens, he by no means can escape; 

And willynilly he cleaves to it and loathes, 

Sick, sick, and guessing not the cause of ail. 

Yet should he see but that, O chiefly then, 

Leaving all else, he'd study to divine 

The nature of things, since here is in debate 

Eternal time and not the single hour, 

Mortal's estate in whatsoever remains 

After great death. 

And too, when all is said, 

What evil lust of life is this so great 

Subdues us to live, so dreadfully distraught 

In perils and alarms? one fixed end 

Of life abideth for mortality; 

Death's not to shun, and we must go to meet. 

Besides we're busied with the same devices, 

Ever and ever, and we are at them ever, 

And there's no new delight that may be forged 

By living on. But whilst the thing we long for 

Is lacking, that seems good above all else; 

Thereafter, when we've touched it, something else 

We long for; ever one equal thirst of life 

Grips us agape. And doubtful 'tis what fortune 

The future times may carry, or what be 

That chance may bring, or what the issue next 

Awaiting us. Nor by prolonging life 

Take we the least away from death's own time, 

Nor can we pluck one moment off, whereby 

To minish the aeons of our state of death. 

Therefore, O man, by living on, fulfil 

As many generations as thou may: 

Eternal death shall there be waiting still; 

And he who died with light of yesterday 

Shall be no briefer time in death's Nomore 

Than he who perished months or years before. 


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BOOK IV

Proem

I wander afield, thriving in sturdy thought, 

Through unpathed haunts of the Pierides, 

Trodden by step of none before. I joy 

To come on undefiled fountains there, 

To drain them deep; I joy to pluck new flowers, 

To seek for this my head a signal crown 

From regions where the Muses never yet 

Have garlanded the temples of a man: 

First, since I teach concerning mighty things, 

And go right on to loose from round the mind 

The tightened coils of dread Religion; 

Next, since, concerning themes so dark, I frame 

Song so pellucid, touching all throughout 

Even with the Muses' charm which, as 'twould seem, 

Is not without a reasonable ground: 

For as physicians, when they seek to give 

Young boys the nauseous wormwood, first do touch 

The brim around the cup with the sweet juice 

And yellow of the honey, in order that 

The thoughtless age of boyhood be cajoled 

As far as the lips, and meanwhile swallow down 

The wormwood's bitter draught, and, though befooled, 

Be yet not merely duped, but rather thus 

Grow strong again with recreated health: 

So now I too (since this my doctrine seems 

In general somewhat woeful unto those 

Who've had it not in hand, and since the crowd 

Starts back from it in horror) have desired 

To expound our doctrine unto thee in song 

Softspeaking and Pierian, and, as 'twere, 

To touch it with sweet honey of the Muse 

If by such method haply I might hold 

The mind of thee upon these lines of ours, 

Till thou dost learn the nature of all things 

And understandest their utility. 

Existence and Character of the Images

But since I've taught already of what sort 

The seeds of all things are, and how distinct 

In divers forms they flit of own accord, 

Stirred with a motion everlasting on, 

And in what mode things be from them create, 

And since I've taught what the mind's nature is, 

And of what things 'tis with the body knit 

And thrives in strength, and by what mode uptorn 

That mind returns to its primordials, 

Now will I undertake an argument 

One for these matters of supreme concern 

That there exist those somewhats which we call 


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The images of things: these, like to films 

Scaled off the utmost outside of the things, 

Flit hither and thither through the atmosphere, 

And the same terrify our intellects, 

Coming upon us waking or in sleep, 

When oft we peer at wonderful strange shapes 

And images of people lorn of light, 

Which oft have horribly roused us when we lay 

In slumber that haply nevermore may we 

Suppose that souls get loose from Acheron, 

Or shades go floating in among the living, 

Or aught of us is left behind at death, 

When body and mind, destroyed together, each 

Back to its own primordials goes away. 

And thus I say that effigies of things, 

And tenuous shapes from off the things are sent, 

From off the utmost outside of the things, 

Which are like films or may be named a rind, 

Because the image bears like look and form 

With whatso body has shed it fluttering forth 

A fact thou mayst, however dull thy wits, 

Well learn from this: mainly, because we see 

Even 'mongst visible objects many be 

That send forth bodies, loosely some diffused 

Like smoke from oaken logs and heat from fires 

And some more interwoven and condensed 

As when the locusts in the summertime 

Put off their glossy tunics, or when calves 

At birth drop membranes from their body's surface, 

Or when, again, the slippery serpent doffs 

Its vestments 'mongst the thorns for oft we see 

The breres augmented with their flying spoils: 

Since such takes place, 'tis likewise certain too 

That tenuous images from things are sent, 

From off the utmost outside of the things. 

For why those kinds should drop and part from things, 

Rather than others tenuous and thin, 

No power has man to open mouth to tell; 

Especially, since on outsides of things 

Are bodies many and minute which could, 

In the same order which they had before, 

And with the figure of their form preserved, 

Be thrown abroad, and much more swiftly too, 

Being less subject to impediments, 

As few in number and placed along the front. 

For truly many things we see discharge 

Their stuff at large, not only from their cores 

Deepset within, as we have said above, 

But from their surfaces at times no less 

Their very colours too. And commonly 

The awnings, saffron, red and dusky blue, 

Stretched overhead in mighty theatres, 

Upon their poles and crossbeams fluttering, 

Have such an action quite; for there they dye 

And make to undulate with their every hue 

The circled throng below, and all the stage, 

And rich attire in the patrician seats. 

And ever the more the theatre's dark walls 

Around them shut, the more all things within 

Laugh in the bright suffusion of strange glints, 

The daylight being withdrawn. And therefore, since 


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The canvas hangings thus discharge their dye 

From off their surface, things in general must 

Likewise their tenuous effigies discharge, 

Because in either case they are offthrown 

From off the surface. So there are indeed 

Such certain prints and vestiges of forms 

Which flit around, of subtlest texture made, 

Invisible, when separate, each and one. 

Again, all odour, smoke, and heat, and such 

Streams out of things diffusedly, because, 

Whilst coming from the deeps of body forth 

And rising out, along their bending path 

They're torn asunder, nor have gateways straight 

Wherethrough to mass themselves and struggle abroad. 

But contrariwise, when such a tenuous film 

Of outside colour is thrown off, there's naught 

Can rend it, since 'tis placed along the front 

Ready to hand. Lastly those images 

Which to our eyes in mirrors do appear, 

In water, or in any shining surface, 

Must be, since furnished with like look of things, 

Fashioned from images of things sent out. 

There are, then, tenuous effigies of forms, 

Like unto them, which no one can divine 

When taken singly, which do yet give back, 

When by continued and recurrent discharge 

Expelled, a picture from the mirrors' plane. 

Nor otherwise, it seems, can they be kept 

So well conserved that thus be given back 

Figures so like each object. 

Now then, learn 

How tenuous is the nature of an image. 

And in the first place, since primordials be 

So far beneath our senses, and much less 

E'en than those objects which begin to grow 

Too small for eyes to note, learn now in few 

How nice are the beginnings of all things 

That this, too, I may yet confirm in proof: 

First, living creatures are sometimes so small 

That even their third part can nowise be seen; 

Judge, then, the size of any inward organ 

What of their sphered heart, their eyes, their limbs, 

The skeleton? How tiny thus they are! 

And what besides of those first particles 

Whence soul and mind must fashioned be? Seest not 

How nice and how minute? Besides, whatever 

Exhales from out its body a sharp smell 

The nauseous absinth, or the panacea, 

Strong southernwood, or bitter centaury 

If never so lightly with thy [fingers] twain 

Perchance [thou touch] a one of them 

Then why not rather know that images 

Flit hither and thither, many, in many modes, 

Bodiless and invisible? 

But lest 

Haply thou holdest that those images 

Which come from objects are the sole that flit, 

Others indeed there be of own accord 

Begot, selfformed in earth's aery skies, 

Which, moulded to innumerable shapes, 

Are borne aloft, and, fluid as they are, 


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Cease not to change appearance and to turn 

Into new outlines of all sorts of forms; 

As we behold the clouds grow thick on high 

And smirch the serene vision of the world, 

Stroking the air with motions. For oft are seen 

The giants' faces flying far along 

And trailing a spread of shadow; and at times 

The mighty mountains and mountainsundered rocks 

Going before and crossing on the sun, 

Whereafter a monstrous beast dragging amain 

And leading in the other thunderheads. 

Now [hear] how easy and how swift they be 

Engendered, and perpetually flow off 

From things and gliding pass away.... 

For ever every outside streams away 

From off all objects, since discharge they may; 

And when this outside reaches other things, 

As chiefly glass, it passes through; but where 

It reaches the rough rocks or stuff of wood, 

There 'tis so rent that it cannot give back 

An image. But when gleaming objects dense, 

As chiefly mirrors, have been set before it, 

Nothing of this sort happens. For it can't 

Go, as through glass, nor yet be rent its safety, 

By virtue of that smoothness, being sure. 

'Tis therefore that from them the images 

Stream back to us; and howso suddenly 

Thou place, at any instant, anything 

Before a mirror, there an image shows; 

Proving that ever from a body's surface 

Flow off thin textures and thin shapes of things. 

Thus many images in little time 

Are gendered; so their origin is named 

Rightly a speedy. And even as the sun 

Must send below, in little time, to earth 

So many beams to keep all things so full 

Of light incessant; thus, on grounds the same, 

From things there must be borne, in many modes, 

To every quarter round, upon the moment, 

The many images of things; because 

Unto whatever face of things we turn 

The mirror, things of form and hue the same 

Respond. Besides, though but a moment since 

Serenest was the weather of the sky, 

So fiercely sudden is it foully thick 

That ye might think that round about all murk 

Had parted forth from Acheron and filled 

The mighty vaults of sky so grievously, 

As gathers thus the stormclouds' gruesome night, 

Do faces of black horror hang on high 

Of which how small a part an image is 

There's none to tell or reckon out in words. 

Now come; with what swift motion they are borne, 

These images, and what the speed assigned 

To them across the breezes swimming on 

So that o'er lengths of space a little hour 

Alone is wasted, toward whatever region 

Each with its divers impulse tends I'll tell 

In verses sweeter than they many are; 

Even as the swan's slight note is better far 


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Than that dispersed clamour of the cranes 

Among the southwind's aery clouds. And first, 

One oft may see that objects which are light 

And made of tiny bodies are the swift; 

In which class is the sun's light and his heat, 

Since made from small primordial elements 

Which, as it were, are forward knocked along 

And through the interspaces of the air 

To pass delay not, urged by blows behind; 

For light by light is instantly supplied 

And gleam by following gleam is spurred and driven. 

Thus likewise must the images have power 

Through unimaginable space to speed 

Within a point of time, first, since a cause 

Exceeding small there is, which at their back 

Far forward drives them and propels, where, too, 

They're carried with such winged lightness on; 

And, secondly, since furnished, when sent off, 

With texture of such rareness that they can 

Through objects whatsoever penetrate 

And ooze, as 'twere, through intervening air. 

Besides, if those fine particles of things 

Which from so deep within are sent abroad, 

As light and heat of sun, are seen to glide 

And spread themselves through all the space of heaven 

Upon one instant of the day, and fly 

O'er sea and lands and flood the heaven, what then 

Of those which on the outside stand prepared, 

When they're hurled off with not a thing to check 

Their going out? Dost thou not see indeed 

How swifter and how farther must they go 

And speed through manifold the length of space 

In time the same that from the sun the rays 

O'erspread the heaven? This also seems to be 

Example chief and true with what swift speed 

The images of things are borne about: 

That soon as ever under open skies 

Is spread the shining water, all at once, 

If stars be out in heaven, upgleam from earth, 

Serene and radiant in the water there, 

The constellations of the universe 

Now seest thou not in what a point of time 

An image from the shores of ether falls 

Unto the shores of earth? Wherefore, again, 

And yet again, 'tis needful to confess 

With wondrous... 

The Senses and Mental Pictures

Bodies that strike the eyes, awaking sight. 

From certain things flow odours evermore, 

As cold from rivers, heat from sun, and spray 

From waves of ocean, eaterout of walls 

Around the coasts. Nor ever cease to flit 

The varied voices, sounds athrough the air. 

Then too there comes into the mouth at times 

The wet of a salt taste, when by the sea 

We roam about; and so, whene'er we watch 

The wormword being mixed, its bitter stings. 


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To such degree from all things is each thing 

Borne streamingly along, and sent about 

To every region round; and Nature grants 

Nor rest nor respite of the onward flow, 

Since 'tis incessantly we feeling have, 

And all the time are suffered to descry 

And smell all things at hand, and hear them sound. 

Besides, since shape examined by our hands 

Within the dark is known to be the same 

As that by eyes perceived within the light 

And lustrous day, both touch and sight must be 

By one like cause aroused. So, if we test 

A square and get its stimulus on us 

Within the dark, within the light what square 

Can fall upon our sight, except a square 

That images the things? Wherefore it seems 

The source of seeing is in images, 

Nor without these can anything be viewed. 

Now these same films I name are borne about 

And tossed and scattered into regions all. 

But since we do perceive alone through eyes, 

It follows hence that whitherso we turn 

Our sight, all things do strike against it there 

With form and hue. And just how far from us 

Each thing may be away, the image yields 

To us the power to see and chance to tell: 

For when 'tis sent, at once it shoves ahead 

And drives along the air that's in the space 

Betwixt it and our eyes. And thus this air 

All glides athrough our eyeballs, and, as 'twere, 

Brushes athrough our pupils and thuswise 

Passes across. Therefore it comes we see 

How far from us each thing may be away, 

And the more air there be that's driven before, 

And too the longer be the brushing breeze 

Against our eyes, the farther off removed 

Each thing is seen to be: forsooth, this work 

With mightily swift order all goes on, 

So that upon one instant we may see 

What kind the object and how far away. 

Nor overmarvellous must this be deemed 

In these affairs that, though the films which strike 

Upon the eyes cannot be singly seen, 

The things themselves may be perceived. For thus 

When the wind beats upon us stroke by stroke 

And when the sharp cold streams, 'tis not our wont 

To feel each private particle of wind 

Or of that cold, but rather all at once; 

And so we see how blows affect our body, 

As if one thing were beating on the same 

And giving us the feel of its own body 

Outside of us. Again, whene'er we thump 

With fingertip upon a stone, we touch 

But the rock's surface and the outer hue, 

Nor feel that hue by contact rather feel 

The very hardness deep within the rock. 

Now come, and why beyond a lookingglass 

An image may be seen, perceive. For seen 

It soothly is, removed far within. 


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'Tis the same sort as objects peered upon 

Outside in their true shape, whene'er a door 

Yields through itself an open peeringplace, 

And lets us see so many things outside 

Beyond the house. Also that sight is made 

By a twofold twin air: for first is seen 

The air inside the doorposts; next the doors, 

The twain to left and right; and afterwards 

A light beyond comes brushing through our eyes, 

Then other air, then objects peered upon 

Outside in their true shape. And thus, when first 

The image of the glass projects itself, 

As to our gaze it comes, it shoves ahead 

And drives along the air that's in the space 

Betwixt it and our eyes, and brings to pass 

That we perceive the air ere yet the glass. 

But when we've also seen the glass itself, 

Forthwith that image which from us is borne 

Reaches the glass, and there thrown back again 

Comes back unto our eyes, and driving rolls 

Ahead of itself another air, that then 

'Tis this we see before itself, and thus 

It looks so far removed behind the glass. 

Wherefore again, again, there's naught for wonder 

In those which render from the mirror's plane 

A vision back, since each thing comes to pass 

By means of the two airs. Now, in the glass 

The right part of our members is observed 

Upon the left, because, when comes the image 

Hitting against the level of the glass, 

'Tis not returned unshifted; but forced off 

Backwards in line direct and not oblique, 

Exactly as whoso his plastermask 

Should dash, before 'twere dry, on post or beam, 

And it should straightway keep, at clinging there, 

Its shape, reversed, facing him who threw, 

And so remould the features it gives back: 

It comes that now the right eye is the left, 

The left the right. An image too may be 

From mirror into mirror handed on, 

Until of idolfilms even five or six 

Have thus been gendered. For whatever things 

Shall hide back yonder in the house, the same, 

However far removed in twisting ways, 

May still be all brought forth through bending paths 

And by these several mirrors seen to be 

Within the house, since Nature so compels 

All things to be borne backward and spring off 

At equal angles from all other things. 

To such degree the image gleams across 

From mirror unto mirror; where 'twas left 

It comes to be the right, and then again 

Returns and changes round unto the left. 

Again, those little sides of mirrors curved 

Proportionate to the bulge of our own flank 

Send back to us their idols with the right 

Upon the right; and this is so because 

Either the image is passed on along 

From mirror unto mirror, and thereafter, 

When twice dashed off, flies back unto ourselves; 

Or else the image wheels itself around, 


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When once unto the mirror it has come, 

Since the curved surface teaches it to turn 

To usward. Further, thou might'st well believe 

That these filmidols step along with us 

And set their feet in unison with ours 

And imitate our carriage, since from that 

Part of a mirror whence thou hast withdrawn 

Straightway no images can be returned. 

Further, our eyeballs tend to flee the bright 

And shun to gaze thereon; the sun even blinds, 

If thou goest on to strain them unto him, 

Because his strength is mighty, and the films 

Heavily downward from on high are borne 

Through the pure ether and the viewless winds, 

And strike the eyes, disordering their joints. 

So piecing lustre often burns the eyes, 

Because it holdeth many seeds of fire 

Which, working into eyes, engender pain. 

Again, whatever jaundiced people view 

Becomes wanyellow, since from out their bodies 

Flow many seeds wanyellow forth to meet 

The films of things, and many too are mixed 

Within their eye, which by contagion paint 

All things with sallowness. Again, we view 

From dark recesses things that stand in light, 

Because, when first has entered and possessed 

The open eyes this nearer darkling air, 

Swiftly the shining air and luminous 

Followeth in, which purges then the eyes 

And scatters asunder of that other air 

The sable shadows, for in large degrees 

This air is nimbler, nicer, and more strong. 

And soon as ever 'thas filled and oped with light 

The pathways of the eyeballs, which before 

Black air had blocked, there follow straightaway 

Those films of things outstanding in the light, 

Provoking vision what we cannot do 

From out the light with objects in the dark, 

Because that denser darkling air behind 

Followeth in, and fills each aperture 

And thus blockades the pathways of the eyes 

That there no images of any things 

Can be thrown in and agitate the eyes. 

And when from far away we do behold 

The squared towers of a city, oft 

Rounded they seem, on this account because 

Each distant angle is perceived obtuse, 

Or rather it is not perceived at all; 

And perishes its blow nor to our gaze 

Arrives its stroke, since through such length of air 

Are borne along the idols that the air 

Makes blunt the idol of the angle's point 

By numerous collidings. When thuswise 

The angles of the tower each and all 

Have quite escaped the sense, the stones appear 

As rubbed and rounded on a turner's wheel 

Yet not like objects near and truly round, 

But with a semblance to them, shadowily. 

Likewise, our shadow in the sun appears 

To move along and follow our own steps 


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And imitate our carriage if thou thinkest 

Air that is thus bereft of light can walk, 

Following the gait and motion of mankind. 

For what we use to name a shadow, sure 

Is naught but air deprived of light. No marvel: 

Because the earth from spot to spot is reft 

Progressively of light of sun, whenever 

In moving round we get within its way, 

While any spot of earth by us abandoned 

Is filled with light again, on this account 

It comes to pass that what was body's shadow 

Seems still the same to follow after us 

In one straight course. Since, evermore pour in 

New lights of rays, and perish then the old, 

Just like the wool that's drawn into the flame. 

Therefore the earth is easily spoiled of light 

And easily refilled and from herself 

Washeth the black shadows quite away. 

And yet in this we don't at all concede 

That eyes be cheated. For their task it is 

To note in whatsoever place be light, 

In what be shadow: whether or no the gleams 

Be still the same, and whether the shadow which 

Just now was here is that one passing thither, 

Or whether the facts be what we said above, 

'Tis after all the reasoning of mind 

That must decide; nor can our eyeballs know 

The nature of reality. And so 

Attach thou not this fault of mind to eyes, 

Nor lightly think our senses everywhere 

Are tottering. The ship in which we sail 

Is borne along, although it seems to stand; 

The ship that bides in roadstead is supposed 

There to be passing by. And hills and fields 

Seem fleeing fast astern, past which we urge 

The ship and fly under the bellying sails. 

The stars, each one, do seem to pause, affixed 

To the ethereal caverns, though they all 

Forever are in motion, rising out 

And thence revisiting their far descents 

When they have measured with their bodies bright 

The span of heaven. And likewise sun and moon 

Seem biding in a roadstead, objects which, 

As plain fact proves, are really borne along. 

Between two mountains far away aloft 

From midst the whirl of waters open lies 

A gaping exit for the fleet, and yet 

They seem conjoined in a single isle. 

When boys themselves have stopped their spinning round, 

The halls still seem to whirl and posts to reel, 

Until they now must almost think the roofs 

Threaten to ruin down upon their heads. 

And now, when Nature begins to lift on high 

The sun's red splendour and the tremulous fires, 

And raise him o'er the mountaintops, those mountains 

O'er which he seemeth then to thee to be, 

His glowing self hard by atingeing them 

With his own fire are yet away from us 

Scarcely two thousand arrowshots, indeed 

Oft scarce five hundred courses of a dart; 

Although between those mountains and the sun 


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Lie the huge plains of ocean spread beneath 

The vasty shores of ether, and intervene 

A thousand lands, possessed by many a folk 

And generations of wild beasts. Again, 

A pool of water of but a finger's depth, 

Which lies between the stones along the pave, 

Offers a vision downward into earth 

As far, as from the earth o'erspread on high 

The gulfs of heaven; that thus thou seemest to view 

Clouds down below and heavenly bodies plunged 

Wondrously in heaven under earth. 

Then too, when in the middle of the stream 

Sticks fast our dashing horse, and down we gaze 

Into the river's rapid waves, some force 

Seems then to bear the body of the horse, 

Though standing still, reversely from his course, 

And swiftly push upstream. And wheresoe'er 

We cast our eyes across, all objects seem 

Thus to be onward borne and flow along 

In the same way as we. A portico, 

Albeit it stands well propped from end to end 

On equal columns, parallel and big, 

Contracts by stages in a narrow cone, 

When from one end the long, long whole is seen, 

Until, conjoining ceiling with the floor, 

And the whole right side with the left, it draws 

Together to a cone's nighviewless point. 

To sailors on the main the sun he seems 

From out the waves to rise, and in the waves 

To set and bury his light because indeed 

They gaze on naught but water and the sky. 

Again, to gazers ignorant of the sea, 

Vessels in port seem, as with broken poops, 

To lean upon the water, quite agog; 

For any portion of the oars that's raised 

Above the briny spray is straight, and straight 

The rudders from above. But other parts, 

Those sunk, immersed below the waterline, 

Seem broken all and bended and inclined 

Sloping to upwards, and turned back to float 

Almost atop the water. And when the winds 

Carry the scattered drifts along the sky 

In the nighttime, then seem to glide along 

The radiant constellations 'gainst the clouds 

And there on high to take far other course 

From that whereon in truth they're borne. And then, 

If haply our hand be set beneath one eye 

And press below thereon, then to our gaze 

Each object which we gaze on seems to be, 

By some sensation twain then twain the lights 

Of lampions burgeoning in flowers of flame, 

And twain the furniture in all the house, 

Twofold the visages of fellowmen, 

And twain their bodies. And again, when sleep 

Has bound our members down in slumber soft 

And all the body lies in deep repose, 

Yet then we seem to self to be awake 

And move our members; and in night's blind gloom 

We think to mark the daylight and the sun; 

And, shut within a room, yet still we seem 

To change our skies, our oceans, rivers, hills, 

To cross the plains afoot, and hear new sounds, 


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Though still the austere silence of the night 

Abides around us, and to speak replies, 

Though voiceless. Other cases of the sort 

Wondrously many do we see, which all 

Seek, so to say, to injure faith in sense 

In vain, because the largest part of these 

Deceives through mere opinions of the mind, 

Which we do add ourselves, feigning to see 

What by the senses are not seen at all. 

For naught is harder than to separate 

Plain facts from dubious, which the mind forthwith 

Adds by itself. 

Again, if one suppose 

That naught is known, he knows not whether this 

Itself is able to be known, since he 

Confesses naught to know. Therefore with him 

I waive discussion who has set his head 

Even where his feet should be. But let me grant 

That this he knows, I question: whence he knows 

What 'tis to know and nottoknow in turn, 

And what created concept of the truth, 

And what device has proved the dubious 

To differ from the certain? since in things 

He's heretofore seen naught of true. Thou'lt find 

That from the senses first hath been create 

Concept of truth, nor can the senses be 

Rebutted. For criterion must be found 

Worthy of greater trust, which shall defeat 

Through own authority the false by true; 

What, then, than these our senses must there be 

Worthy a greater trust? Shall reason, sprung 

From some false sense, prevail to contradict 

Those senses, sprung as reason wholly is 

From out of the senses? For lest these be true, 

All reason also then is falsified. 

Or shall the ears have power to blame the eyes, 

Or yet the touch the ears? Again, shall taste 

Accuse this touch or shall the nose confute 

Or eyes defeat it? Methinks not so it is: 

For unto each has been divided of 

Its function quite apart, its power to each; 

And thus we're still constrained to perceive 

The soft, the cold, the hot apart, apart 

All divers hues and whatso things there be 

Conjoined with hues. Likewise the tasting tongue 

Has its own power apart, and smells apart 

And sounds apart are known. And thus it is 

That no one sense can e'er convict another. 

Nor shall one sense have power to blame itself, 

Because it always must be deemed the same, 

Worthy of equal trust. And therefore what 

At any time unto these senses showed, 

The same is true. And if the reason be 

Unable to unravel us the cause 

Why objects, which at hand were square, afar 

Seemed rounded, yet it more availeth us, 

Lacking the reason, to pretend a cause 

For each configuration, than to let 

From out our hands escape the obvious things 

And injure primal faith in sense, and wreck 

All those foundations upon which do rest 

Our life and safety. For not only reason 


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Would topple down; but even our very life 

Would straightaway collapse, unless we dared 

To trust our senses and to keep away 

From headlong heights and places to be shunned 

Of a like peril, and to seek with speed 

Their opposites! Again, as in a building, 

If the first plumbline be askew, and if 

The square deceiving swerve from lines exact, 

And if the level waver but the least 

In any part, the whole construction then 

Must turn out faulty shelving and askew, 

Leaning to back and front, incongruous, 

That now some portions seem about to fall, 

And falls the whole ere long betrayed indeed 

By first deceiving estimates: so too 

Thy calculations in affairs of life 

Must be askew and false, if sprung for thee 

From senses false. So all that troop of words 

Marshalled against the senses is quite vain. 

And now remains to demonstrate with ease 

How other senses each their things perceive. 

Firstly, a sound and every voice is heard, 

When, getting into ears, they strike the sense 

With their own body. For confess we must 

Even voice and sound to be corporeal, 

Because they're able on the sense to strike. 

Besides voice often scrapes against the throat, 

And screams in going out do make more rough 

The windpipe naturally enough, methinks, 

When, through the narrow exit rising up 

In larger throng, these primal germs of voice 

Have thus begun to issue forth. In sooth, 

Also the door of the mouth is scraped against 

By air blown outward from distended cheeks. 

And thus no doubt there is, that voice and words 

Consist of elements corporeal, 

With power to pain. Nor art thou unaware 

Likewise how much of body's ta'en away, 

How much from very thews and powers of men 

May be withdrawn by steady talk, prolonged 

Even from the rising splendour of the morn 

To shadows of black evening, above all 

If 't be outpoured with most exceeding shouts. 

Therefore the voice must be corporeal, 

Since the long talker loses from his frame 

A part. 

Moreover, roughness in the sound 

Comes from the roughness in the primal germs, 

As a smooth sound from smooth ones is create; 

Nor have these elements a form the same 

When the trump rumbles with a hollow roar, 

As when barbaric Berecynthian pipe 

Buzzes with raucous boomings, or when swans 

By night from icy shores of Helicon 

With wailing voices raise their liquid dirge. 

Thus, when from deep within our frame we force 

These voices, and at mouth expel them forth, 

The mobile tongue, artificer of words, 

Makes them articulate, and too the lips 

By their formations share in shaping them. 


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Hence when the space is short from startingpoint 

To where that voice arrives, the very words 

Must too be plainly heard, distinctly marked. 

For then the voice conserves its own formation, 

Conserves its shape. But if the space between 

Be longer than is fit, the words must be 

Through the much air confounded, and the voice 

Disordered in its flight across the winds 

And so it haps, that thou canst sound perceive, 

Yet not determine what the words may mean; 

To such degree confounded and encumbered 

The voice approaches us. Again, one word, 

Sent from the crier's mouth, may rouse all ears 

Among the populace. And thus one voice 

Scatters asunder into many voices, 

Since it divides itself for separate ears, 

Imprinting form of word and a clear tone. 

But whatso part of voices fails to hit 

The ears themselves perishes, borne beyond, 

Idly diffused among the winds. A part, 

Beating on solid porticoes, tossed back 

Returns a sound; and sometimes mocks the ear 

With a mere phantom of a word. When this 

Thou well hast noted, thou canst render count 

Unto thyself and others why it is 

Along the lonely places that the rocks 

Give back like shapes of words in order like, 

When search we after comrades wandering 

Among the shady mountains, and aloud 

Call unto them, the scattered. I have seen 

Spots that gave back even voices six or seven 

For one thrown forth for so the very hills, 

Dashing them back against the hills, kept on 

With their reverberations. And these spots 

The neighbouring countryside doth feign to be 

Haunts of the goatfoot satyrs and the nymphs; 

And tells ye there be fauns, by whose night noise 

And antic revels yonder they declare 

The voiceless silences are broken oft, 

And tones of strings are made and wailings sweet 

Which the pipe, beat by players' fingertips, 

Pours out; and far and wide the farmerrace 

Begins to hear, when, shaking the garmentings 

Of pine upon his halfbeast head, godPan 

With puckered lip oft runneth o'er and o'er 

The open reeds, lest flute should cease to pour 

The woodland music! Other prodigies 

And wonders of this ilk they love to tell, 

Lest they be thought to dwell in lonely spots 

And even by gods deserted. This is why 

They boast of marvels in their storytellings; 

Or by some other reason are led on 

Greedy, as all mankind hath ever been, 

To prattle fables into ears. 

Again, 

One need not wonder how it comes about 

That through those places (through which eyes cannot 

View objects manifest) sounds yet may pass 

And assail the ears. For often we observe 

People conversing, though the doors be closed; 

No marvel either, since all voice unharmed 

Can wind through bended apertures of things, 


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While idolfilms decline to for they're rent, 

Unless along straight apertures they swim, 

Like those in glass, through which all images 

Do fly across. And yet this voice itself, 

In passing through shut chambers of a house, 

Is dulled, and in a jumble enters ears, 

And sound we seem to hear far more than words. 

Moreover, a voice is into all directions 

Divided up, since off from one another 

New voices are engendered, when one voice 

Hath once leapt forth, outstarting into many 

As oft a spark of fire is wont to sprinkle 

Itself into its several fires. And so, 

Voices do fill those places hid behind, 

Which all are in a hubbub round about, 

Astir with sound. But idolfilms do tend, 

As once set forth, in straight directions all; 

Wherefore one can inside a wall see naught, 

Yet catch the voices from beyond the same. 

Nor tongue and palate, whereby we flavour feel, 

Present more problems for more work of thought. 

Firstly, we feel a flavour in the mouth, 

When forth we squeeze it, in chewing up our food, 

As any one perchance begins to squeeze 

With hand and dry a sponge with water soaked. 

Next, all which forth we squeeze is spread about 

Along the pores and intertwined paths 

Of the loosetextured tongue. And so, when smooth 

The bodies of the oozy flavour, then 

Delightfully they touch, delightfully 

They treat all spots, around the wet and trickling 

Enclosures of the tongue. And contrariwise, 

They sting and pain the sense with their assault, 

According as with roughness they're supplied. 

Next, only up to palate is the pleasure 

Coming from flavour; for in truth when down 

'Thas plunged along the throat, no pleasure is, 

Whilst into all the frame it spreads around; 

Nor aught it matters with what food is fed 

The body, if only what thou take thou canst 

Distribute well digested to the frame 

And keep the stomach in a moist career. 

Now, how it is we see some food for some, 

Others for others.... 

I will unfold, or wherefore what to some 

Is foul and bitter, yet the same to others 

Can seem delectable to eat, why here 

So great the distance and the difference is 

That what is food to one to some becomes 

Fierce poison, as a certain snake there is 

Which, touched by spittle of a man, will waste 

And end itself by gnawing up its coil. 

Again, fierce poison is the hellebore 

To us, but puts the fat on goats and quails. 

That thou mayst know by what devices this 

Is brought about, in chief thou must recall 

What we have said before, that seeds are kept 

Commixed in things in divers modes. Again, 

As all the breathing creatures which take food 

Are outwardly unlike, and outer cut 


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And contour of their members bounds them round, 

Each differing kind by kind, they thus consist 

Of seeds of varying shape. And furthermore, 

Since seeds do differ, divers too must be 

The interstices and paths (which we do call 

The apertures) in all the members, even 

In mouth and palate too. Thus some must be 

More small or yet more large, threecornered some 

And others squared, and many others round, 

And certain of them manyangled too 

In many modes. For, as the combination 

And motion of their divers shapes demand, 

The shapes of apertures must be diverse 

And paths must vary according to their walls 

That bound them. Hence when what is sweet to some, 

Becomes to others bitter, for him to whom 

'Tis sweet, the smoothest particles must needs 

Have entered caressingly the palate's pores. 

And, contrariwise, with those to whom that sweet 

Is sour within the mouth, beyond a doubt 

The rough and barbed particles have got 

Into the narrows of the apertures. 

Now easy it is from these affairs to know 

Whatever... 

Indeed, where one from o'erabundant bile 

Is stricken with fever, or in other wise 

Feels the roused violence of some malady, 

There the whole frame is now upset, and there 

All the positions of the seeds are changed, 

So that the bodies which before were fit 

To cause the savour, now are fit no more, 

And now more apt are others which be able 

To get within the pores and gender sour. 

Both sorts, in sooth, are intermixed in honey 

What oft we've proved above to thee before. 

Now come, and I will indicate what wise 

Impact of odour on the nostrils touches. 

And first, 'tis needful there be many things 

From whence the streaming flow of varied odours 

May roll along, and we're constrained to think 

They stream and dart and sprinkle themselves about 

Impartially. But for some breathing creatures 

One odour is more apt, to others another 

Because of differing forms of seeds and pores. 

Thus on and on along the zephyrs bees 

Are led by odour of honey, vultures too 

By carcasses. Again, the forward power 

Of scent in dogs doth lead the hunter on 

Whithersoever the splayfoot of wild beast 

Hath hastened its career; and the white goose, 

The saviour of the Roman citadel, 

Forescents afar the odour of mankind. 

Thus, diversely to divers ones is given 

Peculiar smell that leadeth each along 

To his own food or makes him start aback 

From loathsome poison, and in this wise are 

The generations of the wild preserved. 

Yet is this pungence not alone in odours 

Or in the class of flavours; but, likewise, 

The look of things and hues agree not all 


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So well with senses unto all, but that 

Some unto some will be, to gaze upon, 

More keen and painful. Lo, the raving lions, 

They dare not face and gaze upon the cock 

Who's wont with wings to flap away the night 

From off the stage, and call the beaming morn 

With clarion voice and lions straightway thus 

Bethink themselves of flight, because, ye see, 

Within the body of the cocks there be 

Some certain seeds, which, into lions' eyes 

Injected, bore into the pupils deep 

And yield such piercing pain they can't hold out 

Against the cocks, however fierce they be 

Whilst yet these seeds can't hurt our gaze the least, 

Either because they do not penetrate, 

Or since they have free exit from the eyes 

As soon as penetrating, so that thus 

They cannot hurt our eyes in any part 

By there remaining. 

To speak once more of odour; 

Whatever assail the nostrils, some can travel 

A longer way than others. None of them, 

However, 's borne so far as sound or voice 

While I omit all mention of such things 

As hit the eyesight and assail the vision. 

For slowly on a wandering course it comes 

And perishes sooner, by degrees absorbed 

Easily into all the winds of air; 

And first, because from deep inside the thing 

It is discharged with labour (for the fact 

That every object, when 'tis shivered, ground, 

Or crumbled by the fire, will smell the stronger 

Is sign that odours flow and part away 

From inner regions of the things). And next, 

Thou mayest see that odour is create 

Of larger primal germs than voice, because 

It enters not through stony walls, wherethrough 

Unfailingly the voice and sound are borne; 

Wherefore, besides, thou wilt observe 'tis not 

So easy to trace out in whatso place 

The smelling object is. For, dallying on 

Along the winds, the particles cool off, 

And then the scurrying messengers of things 

Arrive our senses, when no longer hot. 

So dogs oft wander astray, and hunt the scent. 

Now mark, and hear what objects move the mind, 

And learn, in few, whence unto intellect 

Do come what come. And first I tell thee this: 

That many images of objects rove 

In many modes to every region round 

So thin that easily the one with other, 

When once they meet, uniteth in midair, 

Like gossamer or goldleaf. For, indeed, 

Far thinner are they in their fabric than 

Those images which take a hold on eyes 

And smite the vision, since through body's pores 

They penetrate, and inwardly stir up 

The subtle nature of mind and smite the sense. 

Thus, Centaurs and the limbs of Scyllas, thus 

The Cerberusvisages of dogs we see, 

And images of people gone before 


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Dead men whose bones earth bosomed long ago; 

Because the images of every kind 

Are everywhere about us borne in part 

Those which are gendered in the very air 

Of own accord, in part those others which 

From divers things do part away, and those 

Which are compounded, made from out their shapes. 

For soothly from no living Centaur is 

That phantom gendered, since no breed of beast 

Like him was ever; but, when images 

Of horse and man by chance have come together, 

They easily cohere, as aforesaid, 

At once, through subtle nature and fabric thin. 

In the same fashion others of this ilk 

Created are. And when they're quickly borne 

In their exceeding lightness, easily 

(As earlier I showed) one subtle image, 

Compounded, moves by its one blow the mind, 

Itself so subtle and so strangely quick. 

That these things come to pass as I record, 

From this thou easily canst understand: 

So far as one is unto other like, 

Seeing with mind as well as with the eyes 

Must come to pass in fashion not unlike. 

Well, now, since I have shown that I perceive 

Haply a lion through those idolfilms 

Such as assail my eyes, 'tis thine to know 

Also the mind is in like manner moved, 

And sees, nor more nor less than eyes do see 

(Except that it perceives more subtle films) 

The lion and aught else through idolfilms. 

And when the sleep has overset our frame, 

The mind's intelligence is now awake, 

Still for no other reason, save that these 

The selfsame films as when we are awake 

Assail our minds, to such degree indeed 

That we do seem to see for sure the man 

Whom, void of life, now death and earth have gained 

Dominion over. And Nature forces this 

To come to pass because the body's senses 

Are resting, thwarted through the members all, 

Unable now to conquer false with true; 

And memory lies prone and languishes 

In slumber, nor protests that he, the man 

Whom the mind feigns to see alive, long since 

Hath been the gain of death and dissolution. 

And further, 'tis no marvel idols move 

And toss their arms and other members round 

In rhythmic time and often in men's sleeps 

It haps an image this is seen to do; 

In sooth, when perishes the former image, 

And other is gendered of another pose, 

That former seemeth to have changed its gestures. 

Of course the change must be conceived as speedy; 

So great the swiftness and so great the store 

Of idolthings, and (in an instant brief 

As mind can mark) so great, again, the store 

Of separate idolparts to bring supplies. 

It happens also that there is supplied 


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Sometimes an image not of kind the same; 

But what before was woman, now at hand 

Is seen to stand there, altered into male; 

Or other visage, other age succeeds; 

But slumber and oblivion take care 

That we shall feel no wonder at the thing. 

And much in these affairs demands inquiry, 

And much, illumination if we crave 

With plainness to exhibit facts. And first, 

Why doth the mind of one to whom the whim 

To think has come behold forthwith that thing? 

Or do the idols watch upon our will, 

And doth an image unto us occur, 

Directly we desire if heart prefer 

The sea, the land, or after all the sky? 

Assemblies of the citizens, parades, 

Banquets, and battles, these and all doth she, 

Nature, create and furnish at our word? 

Maugre the fact that in same place and spot 

Another's mind is meditating things 

All far unlike. And what, again, of this: 

When we in sleep behold the idols step, 

In measure, forward, moving supple limbs, 

Whilst forth they put each supple arm in turn 

With speedy motion, and with eyeing heads 

Repeat the movement, as the foot keeps time? 

Forsooth, the idols they are steeped in art, 

And wander to and fro well taught indeed, 

Thus to be able in the time of night 

To make such games! Or will the truth be this: 

Because in one least moment that we mark 

That is, the uttering of a single sound 

There lurk yet many moments, which the reason 

Discovers to exist, therefore it comes 

That, in a moment how so brief ye will, 

The divers idols are hard by, and ready 

Each in its place diverse? So great the swiftness, 

So great, again, the store of idolthings, 

And so, when perishes the former image, 

And other is gendered of another pose, 

The former seemeth to have changed its gestures. 

And since they be so tenuous, mind can mark 

Sharply alone the ones it strains to see; 

And thus the rest do perish one and all, 

Save those for which the mind prepares itself. 

Further, it doth prepare itself indeed, 

And hopes to see what follows after each 

Hence this result. For hast thou not observed 

How eyes, essaying to perceive the fine, 

Will strain in preparation, otherwise 

Unable sharply to perceive at all? 

Yet know thou canst that, even in objects plain, 

If thou attendest not, 'tis just the same 

As if 'twere all the time removed and far. 

What marvel, then, that mind doth lose the rest, 

Save those to which 'thas given up itself? 

So 'tis that we conjecture from small signs 

Things wide and weighty, and involve ourselves 

In snarls of selfdeceit. 


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Some Vital Functions

In these affairs 

We crave that thou wilt passionately flee 

The one offence, and anxiously wilt shun 

The error of presuming the clear lights 

Of eyes created were that we might see; 

Or thighs and knees, aprop upon the feet, 

Thuswise can bended be, that we might step 

With goodly strides ahead; or forearms joined 

Unto the sturdy uppers, or serving hands 

On either side were given, that we might do 

Life's own demands. All such interpretation 

Is aftforfore with inverse reasoning, 

Since naught is born in body so that we 

May use the same, but birth engenders use: 

No seeing ere the lights of eyes were born, 

No speaking ere the tongue created was; 

But origin of tongue came long before 

Discourse of words, and ears created were 

Much earlier than any sound was heard; 

And all the members, so meseems, were there 

Before they got their use: and therefore, they 

Could not be gendered for the sake of use. 

But contrariwise, contending in the fight 

With hand to hand, and rending of the joints, 

And fouling of the limbs with gore, was there, 

O long before the gleaming spears ere flew; 

And Nature prompted man to shun a wound, 

Before the left arm by the aid of art 

Opposed the shielding targe. And, verily, 

Yielding the weary body to repose, 

Far ancienter than cushions of soft beds, 

And quenching thirst is earlier than cups. 

These objects, therefore, which for use and life 

Have been devised, can be conceived as found 

For sake of using. But apart from such 

Are all which first were born and afterwards 

Gave knowledge of their own utility 

Chief in which sort we note the senses, limbs: 

Wherefore, again, 'tis quite beyond thy power 

To hold that these could thus have been create 

For office of utility. 

Likewise, 

'Tis nothing strange that all the breathing creatures 

Seek, even by nature of their frame, their food. 

Yes, since I've taught thee that from off the things 

Stream and depart innumerable bodies 

In modes innumerable too; but most 

Must be the bodies streaming from the living 

Which bodies, vexed by motion evermore, 

Are through the mouth exhaled innumerable, 

When weary creatures pant, or through the sweat 

Squeezed forth innumerable from deep within. 

Thus body rarefies, so undermined 

In all its nature, and pain attends its state. 

And so the food is taken to underprop 

The tottering joints, and by its interfusion 

To recreate their powers, and there stop up 

The longing, openmouthed through limbs and veins, 


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For eating. And the moist no less departs 

Into all regions that demand the moist; 

And many heapedup particles of hot, 

Which cause such burnings in these bellies of ours, 

The liquid on arriving dissipates 

And quenches like a fire, that parching heat 

No longer now can scorch the frame. And so, 

Thou seest how panting thirst is washed away 

From off our body, how the hungerpang 

It, too, appeased. 

Now, how it comes that we, 

Whene'er we wish, can step with strides ahead, 

And how 'tis given to move our limbs about, 

And what device is wont to push ahead 

This the big load of our corporeal frame, 

I'll say to thee do thou attend what's said. 

I say that first some idolfilms of walking 

Into our mind do fall and smite the mind, 

As said before. Thereafter will arises; 

For no one starts to do a thing, before 

The intellect previsions what it wills; 

And what it there previsioneth depends 

On what that image is. When, therefore, mind 

Doth so bestir itself that it doth will 

To go and step along, it strikes at once 

That energy of soul that's sown about 

In all the body through the limbs and frame 

And this is easy of performance, since 

The soul is close conjoined with the mind. 

Next, soul in turn strikes body, and by degrees 

Thus the whole mass is pushed along and moved. 

Then too the body rarefies, and air, 

Forsooth as ever of such nimbleness, 

Comes on and penetrates aboundingly 

Through opened pores, and thus is sprinkled round 

Unto all smallest places in our frame. 

Thus then by these twain factors, severally, 

Body is borne like ship with oars and wind. 

Nor yet in these affairs is aught for wonder 

That particles so fine can whirl around 

So great a body and turn this weight of ours; 

For wind, so tenuous with its subtle body, 

Yet pushes, driving on the mighty ship 

Of mighty bulk; one hand directs the same, 

Whatever its momentum, and one helm 

Whirls it around, whither ye please; and loads, 

Many and huge, are moved and hoisted high 

By enginery of pulleyblocks and wheels, 

With but light strain. 

Now, by what modes this sleep 

Pours through our members waters of repose 

And frees the breast from cares of mind, I'll tell 

In verses sweeter than they many are; 

Even as the swan's slight note is better far 

Than that dispersed clamour of the cranes 

Among the south wind's aery clouds. Do thou 

Give me sharp ears and a sagacious mind, 

That thou mayst not deny the things to be 

Whereof I'm speaking, nor depart away 

With bosom scorning these the spoken truths, 

Thyself at fault unable to perceive. 

Sleep chiefly comes when energy of soul 


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Hath now been scattered through the frame, and part 

Expelled abroad and gone away, and part 

Crammed back and settling deep within the frame 

Whereafter then our loosened members droop. 

For doubt is none that by the work of soul 

Exist in us this sense, and when by slumber 

That sense is thwarted, we are bound to think 

The soul confounded and expelled abroad 

Yet not entirely, else the frame would lie 

Drenched in the everlasting cold of death. 

In sooth, where no one part of soul remained 

Lurking among the members, even as fire 

Lurks buried under many ashes, whence 

Could sense amain rekindled be in members, 

As flame can rise anew from unseen fire? 

By what devices this strange state and new 

May be occasioned, and by what the soul 

Can be confounded and the frame grow faint, 

I will untangle: see to it, thou, that I 

Pour forth my words not unto empty winds. 

In first place, body on its outer parts 

Since these are touched by neighbouring aery gusts 

Must there be thumped and strook by blows of air 

Repeatedly. And therefore almost all 

Are covered either with hides, or else with shells, 

Or with the horny callus, or with bark. 

Yet this same air lashes their inner parts, 

When creatures draw a breath or blow it out. 

Wherefore, since body thus is flogged alike 

Upon the inside and the out, and blows 

Come in upon us through the little pores 

Even inward to our body's primal parts 

And primal elements, there comes to pass 

By slow degrees, along our members then, 

A kind of overthrow; for then confounded 

Are those arrangements of the primal germs 

Of body and of mind. It comes to pass 

That next a part of soul's expelled abroad, 

A part retreateth in recesses hid, 

A part, too, scattered all about the frame, 

Cannot become united nor engage 

In interchange of motion. Nature now 

So hedges off approaches and the paths; 

And thus the sense, its motions all deranged, 

Retires down deep within; and since there's naught, 

As 'twere, to prop the frame, the body weakens, 

And all the members languish, and the arms 

And eyelids fall, and, as ye lie abed, 

Even there the houghs will sag and loose their powers. 

Again, sleep follows after food, because 

The food produces same result as air, 

Whilst being scattered round through all the veins; 

And much the heaviest is that slumber which, 

Full or fatigued, thou takest; since 'tis then 

That the most bodies disarrange themselves, 

Bruised by labours hard. And in same wise, 

This threefold change: a forcing of the soul 

Down deeper, more a castingforth of it, 

A moving more divided in its parts 

And scattered more. 

And to whate'er pursuit 


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A man most clings absorbed, or what the affairs 

On which we theretofore have tarried much, 

And mind hath strained upon the more, we seem 

In sleep not rarely to go at the same. 

The lawyers seem to plead and cite decrees, 

Commanders they to fight and go at frays, 

Sailors to live in combat with the winds, 

And we ourselves indeed to make this book, 

And still to seek the nature of the world 

And set it down, when once discovered, here 

In these my country's leaves. Thus all pursuits, 

All arts in general seem in sleeps to mock 

And master the minds of men. And whosoever 

Day after day for long to games have given 

Attention undivided, still they keep 

(As oft we note), even when they've ceased to grasp 

Those games with their own senses, open paths 

Within the mind wherethrough the idolfilms 

Of just those games can come. And thus it is 

For many a day thereafter those appear 

Floating before the eyes, that even awake 

They think they view the dancers moving round 

Their supple limbs, and catch with both the ears 

The liquid song of harp and speaking chords, 

And view the same assembly on the seats, 

And manifold bright glories of the stage 

So great the influence of pursuit and zest, 

And of the affairs wherein 'thas been the wont 

Of men to be engagednor only men, 

But soothly all the animals. Behold, 

Thou'lt see the sturdy horses, though outstretched, 

Yet sweating in their sleep, and panting ever, 

And straining utmost strength, as if for prize, 

As if, with barriers opened now... 

And hounds of huntsmen oft in soft repose 

Yet toss asudden all their legs about, 

And growl and bark, and with their nostrils sniff 

The winds again, again, though indeed 

They'd caught the scented footprints of wild beasts, 

And, even when wakened, often they pursue 

The phantom images of stags, as though 

They did perceive them fleeing on before, 

Until the illusion's shaken off and dogs 

Come to themselves again. And fawning breed 

Of housebred whelps do feel the sudden urge 

To shake their bodies and start from off the ground, 

As if beholding strangervisages. 

And ever the fiercer be the stock, the more 

In sleep the same is ever bound to rage. 

But fleet the divers tribes of birds and vex 

With sudden wings by night the groves of gods, 

When in their gentle slumbers they have dreamed 

Of hawks in chase, aswooping on for fight. 

Again, the minds of mortals which perform 

With mighty motions mighty enterprises, 

Often in sleep will do and dare the same 

In manner like. Kings take the towns by storm, 

Succumb to capture, battle on the field, 

Raise a wild cry as if their throats were cut 

Even then and there. And many wrestle on 

And groan with pains, and fill all regions round 

With mighty cries and wild, as if then gnawed


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By fangs of panther or of lion fierce. 

Many amid their slumbers talk about 

Their mighty enterprises, and have often 

Enough become the proof of their own crimes. 

Many meet death; many, as if headlong 

From lofty mountains tumbling down to earth 

With all their frame, are frenzied in their fright; 

And after sleep, as if still mad in mind, 

They scarce come to, confounded as they are 

By ferment of their frame. The thirsty man, 

Likewise, he sits beside delightful spring 

Or river and gulpeth down with gaping throat 

Nigh the whole stream. And oft the innocent young, 

By sleep o'ermastered, think they lift their dress 

By pail or public jordan and then void 

The water filtered down their frame entire 

And drench the Babylonian coverlets, 

Magnificently bright. Again, those males 

Into the surging channels of whose years 

Now first has passed the seed (engendered 

Within their members by the ripened days) 

Are in their sleep confronted from without 

By idolimages of some fair form 

Tidings of glorious face and lovely bloom, 

Which stir and goad the regions turgid now 

With seed abundant; so that, as it were 

With all the matter acted duly out, 

They pour the billows of a potent stream 

And stain their garment. 

And as said before, 

That seed is roused in us when once ripe age 

Has made our body strong... 

As divers causes give to divers things 

Impulse and irritation, so one force 

In human kind rouses the human seed 

To spurt from man. As soon as ever it issues, 

Forced from its first abodes, it passes down 

In the whole body through the limbs and frame, 

Meeting in certain regions of our thews, 

And stirs amain the genitals of man. 

The goaded regions swell with seed, and then 

Comes the delight to dart the same at what 

The mad desire so yearns, and body seeks 

That object, whence the mind by love is pierced. 

For wellnigh each man falleth toward his wound, 

And our blood spurts even toward the spot from whence 

The stroke wherewith we are strook, and if indeed 

The foe be close, the red jet reaches him. 

Thus, one who gets a stroke from Venus' shafts 

Whether a boy with limbs effeminate 

Assault him, or a woman darting love 

From all her body that one strains to get 

Even to the thing whereby he's hit, and longs 

To join with it and cast into its frame 

The fluid drawn even from within its own. 

For the mute craving doth presage delight. 


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The Passion of Love

This craving 'tis that's Venus unto us: 

From this, engender all the lures of love, 

From this, O first hath into human hearts 

Trickled that drop of joyance which ere long 

Is by chill care succeeded. Since, indeed, 

Though she thou lovest now be far away, 

Yet idolimages of her are near 

And the sweet name is floating in thy ear. 

But it behooves to flee those images; 

And scare afar whatever feeds thy love; 

And turn elsewhere thy mind; and vent the sperm, 

Within thee gathered, into sundry bodies, 

Nor, with thy thoughts still busied with one love, 

Keep it for one delight, and so store up 

Care for thyself and pain inevitable. 

For, lo, the ulcer just by nourishing 

Grows to more life with deep inveteracy, 

And day by day the fury swells aflame, 

And the woe waxes heavier day by day 

Unless thou dost destroy even by new blows 

The former wounds of love, and curest them 

While yet they're fresh, by wandering freely round 

After the freelywandering Venus, or 

Canst lead elsewhere the tumults of thy mind. 

Nor doth that man who keeps away from love 

Yet lack the fruits of Venus; rather takes 

Those pleasures which are free of penalties. 

For the delights of Venus, verily, 

Are more unmixed for mortals saneofsoul 

Than for those sickatheart with lovepining. 

Yea, in the very moment of possessing, 

Surges the heat of lovers to and fro, 

Restive, uncertain; and they cannot fix 

On what to first enjoy with eyes and hands. 

The parts they sought for, those they squeeze so tight, 

And pain the creature's body, close their teeth 

Often against her lips, and smite with kiss 

Mouth into mouth, because this same delight 

Is not unmixed; and underneath are stings 

Which goad a man to hurt the very thing, 

Whate'er it be, from whence arise for him 

Those germs of madness. But with gentle touch 

Venus subdues the pangs in midst of love, 

And the admixture of a fondling joy 

Doth curb the bites of passion. For they hope 

That by the very body whence they caught 

The heats of love their flames can be put out. 

But Nature protests 'tis all quite otherwise; 

For this same love it is the one sole thing 

Of which, the more we have, the fiercer burns 

The breast with fell desire. For food and drink 

Are taken within our members; and, since they 

Can stop up certain parts, thus, easily 

Desire of water is glutted and of bread. 

But, lo, from human face and lovely bloom 

Naught penetrates our frame to be enjoyed 

Save flimsy idolimages and vain 

A sorry hope which oft the winds disperse. 


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As when the thirsty man in slumber seeks 

To drink, and water ne'er is granted him 

Wherewith to quench the heat within his members, 

But after idols of the liquids strives 

And toils in vain, and thirsts even whilst he gulps 

In middle of the torrent, thus in love 

Venus deludes with idolimages 

The lovers. Nor they cannot sate their lust 

By merely gazing on the bodies, nor 

They cannot with their palms and fingers rub 

Aught from each tender limb, the while they stray 

Uncertain over all the body. Then, 

At last, with members intertwined, when they 

Enjoy the flower of their age, when now 

Their bodies have sweet presage of keen joys, 

And Venus is about to sow the fields 

Of woman, greedily their frames they lock, 

And mingle the slaver of their mouths, and breathe 

Into each other, pressing teeth on mouths 

Yet to no purpose, since they're powerless 

To rub off aught, or penetrate and pass 

With body entire into body for oft 

They seem to strive and struggle thus to do; 

So eagerly they cling in Venus' bonds, 

Whilst melt away their members, overcome 

By violence of delight. But when at last 

Lust, gathered in the thews, hath spent itself, 

There come a brief pause in the raging heat 

But then a madness just the same returns 

And that old fury visits them again, 

When once again they seek and crave to reach 

They know not what, all powerless to find 

The artifice to subjugate the bane. 

In such uncertain state they waste away 

With unseen wound. 

To which be added too, 

They squander powers and with the travail wane; 

Be added too, they spend their futile years 

Under another's beck and call; their duties 

Neglected languish and their honest name 

Reeleth sick, sick; and meantime their estates 

Are lost in Babylonian tapestries; 

And unguents and dainty Sicyonian shoes 

Laugh on their feet; and (as ye may be sure) 

Big emeralds of green light are set in gold; 

And rich seapurple dress by constant wear 

Grows shabby and all soaked with Venus' sweat; 

And the wellearned ancestral property 

Becometh headbands, coifs, and many a time 

The cloaks, or garments Alidensian 

Or of the Cean isle. And banquets, set 

With rarest cloth and viands, are prepared 

And games of chance, and many a drinking cup, 

And unguents, crowns and garlands. All in vain, 

Since from amid the wellspring of delights 

Bubbles some drop of bitter to torment 

Among the very flowers when haply mind 

Gnaws into self, now stricken with remorse 

For slothful years and ruin in bordels, 

Or else because she's left him all in doubt 

By launching some sly word, which still like fire 

Lives wildly, cleaving to his eager heart; 


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Or else because he thinks she darts her eyes 

Too much about and gazes at another, 

And in her face sees traces of a laugh. 

These ills are found in prospering love and true; 

But in crossed love and helpless there be such 

As through shut eyelids thou canst still take in 

Uncounted ills; so that 'tis better far 

To watch beforehand, in the way I've shown, 

And guard against enticements. For to shun 

A fall into the huntingsnares of love 

Is not so hard, as to get out again, 

When tangled in the very nets, and burst 

The stoutlyknotted cords of Aphrodite. 

Yet even when there enmeshed with tangled feet, 

Still canst thou scape the dangerlest indeed 

Thou standest in the way of thine own good, 

And overlookest first all blemishes 

Of mind and body of thy much preferred, 

Desirable dame. For so men do, 

Eyeless with passion, and assign to them 

Graces not theirs in fact. And thus we see 

Creatures in many a wise crooked and ugly 

The prosperous sweethearts in a high esteem; 

And lovers gird each other and advise 

To placate Venus, since their friends are smit 

With a base passion miserable dupes 

Who seldom mark their own worst bane of all. 

The blackskinned girl is "tawny like the honey"; 

The filthy and the fetid's "negligee"; 

The cateyed she's "a little Pallas," she; 

The sinewy and wizened's "a gazelle"; 

The pudgy and the pigmy is "piquant, 

One of the Graces sure"; the big and bulky 

O she's "an Admiration, imposante"; 

The stuttering and tonguetied "sweetly lisps"; 

The mute girl's "modest"; and the garrulous, 

The spiteful spitfire, is "a sparkling wit"; 

And she who scarcely lives for scrawniness 

Becomes "a slender darling"; "delicate" 

Is she who's nearly dead of coughingfit; 

The pursy female with protuberant breasts 

She is "like Ceres when the goddess gave 

Young Bacchus suck"; the pugnosed ladylove 

"A Satyress, a feminine Silenus"; 

The blubberlipped is "all one luscious kiss" 

A weary while it were to tell the whole. 

But let her face possess what charm ye will, 

Let Venus' glory rise from all her limbs, 

Forsooth there still are others; and forsooth 

We lived before without her; and forsooth 

She does the same things and we know she does 

All, as the ugly creature and she scents, 

Yes she, her wretched self with vile perfumes; 

Whom even her handmaids flee and giggle at 

Behind her back. But he, the lover, in tears 

Because shut out, covers her threshold o'er 

Often with flowers and garlands, and anoints 

Her haughty doorposts with the marjoram, 

And prints, poor fellow, kisses on the doors 

Admitted at last, if haply but one whiff 

Got to him on approaching, he would seek 


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Decent excuses to go out forthwith; 

And his lament, long pondered, then would fall 

Down at his heels; and there he'd damn himself 

For his fatuity, observing how 

He had assigned to that same lady more 

Than it is proper to concede to mortals. 

And these our Venuses are 'ware of this. 

Wherefore the more are they at pains to hide 

All thebehindthescenes of life from those 

Whom they desire to keep in bonds of love 

In vain, since ne'ertheless thou canst by thought 

Drag all the matter forth into the light 

And well search out the cause of all these smiles; 

And if of graceful mind she be and kind, 

Do thou, in thy turn, overlook the same, 

And thus allow for poor mortality. 

Nor sighs the woman always with feigned love, 

Who links her body round man's body locked 

And holds him fast, making his kisses wet 

With lips sucked into lips; for oft she acts 

Even from desire, and, seeking mutual joys, 

Incites him there to run love's racecourse through. 

Nor otherwise can cattle, birds, wild beasts, 

And sheep and mares submit unto the males, 

Except that their own nature is in heat, 

And burns abounding and with gladness takes 

Once more the Venus of the mounting males. 

And seest thou not how those whom mutual pleasure 

Hath bound are tortured in their common bonds? 

How often in the crossroads dogs that pant 

To get apart strain eagerly asunder 

With utmost might? When all the while they're fast 

In the stout links of Venus. But they'd ne'er 

So pull, except they knew those mutual joys 

So powerful to cast them unto snares 

And hold them bound. Wherefore again, again, 

Even as I say, there is a joint delight. 

And when perchance, in mingling seed with his, 

The female hath o'erpowered the force of male 

And by a sudden fling hath seized it fast, 

Then are the offspring, more from mothers' seed, 

More like their mothers; as, from fathers' seed, 

They're like to fathers. But whom seest to be 

Partakers of each shape, one equal blend 

Of parents' features, these are generate 

From fathers' body and from mothers' blood, 

When mutual and harmonious heat hath dashed 

Together seeds, aroused along their frames 

By Venus' goads, and neither of the twain 

Mastereth or is mastered. Happens too 

That sometimes offspring can to being come 

In likeness of their grandsires, and bring back 

Often the shapes of grandsires' sires, because 

Their parents in their bodies oft retain 

Concealed many primal germs, commixed 

In many modes, which, starting with the stock, 

Sire handeth down to son, himself a sire; 

Whence Venus by a variable chance 

Engenders shapes, and diversely brings back 

Ancestral features, voices too, and hair. 


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A female generation rises forth 

From seed paternal, and from mother's body 

Exist created males: since sex proceeds 

No more from singleness of seed than faces 

Or bodies or limbs of ours: for every birth 

Is from a twofold seed; and what's created 

Hath, of that parent which it is more like, 

More than its equal share; as thou canst mark, 

Whether the breed be male or female stock. 

Nor do the powers divine grudge any man 

The fruits of his seedsowing, so that never 

He be called "father" by sweet children his, 

And end his days in sterile love forever. 

What many men suppose; and gloomily 

They sprinkle the altars with abundant blood, 

And make the high platforms odorous with burnt gifts, 

To render big by plenteous seed their wives 

And plague in vain godheads and sacred lots. 

For sterile, are these men by seed too thick, 

Or else by far too watery and thin. 

Because the thin is powerless to cleave 

Fast to the proper places, straightaway 

It trickles from them, and, returned again, 

Retires abortively. And then since seed 

More gross and solid than will suit is spent 

By some men, either it flies not forth amain 

With spurt prolonged enough, or else it fails 

To enter suitably the proper places, 

Or, having entered, the seed is weakly mixed 

With seed of the woman: harmonies of Venus 

Are seen to matter vastly here; and some 

Impregnate some more readily, and from some 

Some women conceive more readily and become 

Pregnant. And many women, sterile before 

In several marriagebeds, have yet thereafter 

Obtained the mates from whom they could conceive 

The babyboys, and with sweet progeny 

Grow rich. And even for husbands (whose own wives, 

Although of fertile wombs, have borne for them 

No babies in the house) are also found 

Concordant natures so that they at last 

Can bulwark their old age with goodly sons. 

A matter of great moment 'tis in truth, 

That seeds may mingle readily with seeds 

Suited for procreation, and that thick 

Should mix with fluid seeds, with thick the fluid. 

And in this business 'tis of some import 

Upon what diet life is nourished: 

For some foods thicken seeds within our members, 

And others thin them out and waste away. 

And in what modes the fond delight itself 

Is carried on this too importeth vastly. 

For commonly 'tis thought that wives conceive 

More readily in manner of wildbeasts, 

After the custom of the fourfoot breeds, 

Because so postured, with the breasts beneath 

And buttocks then upreared, the seeds can take 

Their proper places. Nor is need the least 

For wives to use the motions of blandishment; 

For thus the woman hinders and resists 

Her own conception, if too joyously 

Herself she treats the Venus of the man 


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With haunches heaving, and with all her bosom 

Now yielding like the billows of the sea 

Aye, from the ploughshare's even course and track 

She throws the furrow, and from proper places 

Deflects the spurt of seed. And courtesans 

Are thuswise wont to move for their own ends, 

To keep from pregnancy and lying in, 

And all the while to render Venus more 

A pleasure for the men the which meseems 

Our wives have never need of. 

Sometimes too 

It happens and through no divinity 

Nor arrows of Venus that a sorry chit 

Of scanty grace will be beloved by man; 

For sometimes she herself by very deeds, 

By her complying ways, and tidy habits, 

Will easily accustom thee to pass 

With her thy lifetime and, moreover, lo, 

Long habitude can gender human love, 

Even as an object smitten o'er and o'er 

By blows, however lightly, yet at last 

Is overcome and wavers. Seest thou not, 

Besides, how drops of water falling down 

Against the stones at last bore through the stones? 

BOOK V

Proem

O who can build with puissant breast a song 

Worthy the majesty of these great finds? 

Or who in words so strong that he can frame 

The fit laudations for deserts of him 

Who left us heritors of such vast prizes, 

By his own breast discovered and sought out? 

There shall be none, methinks, of mortal stock. 

For if must needs be named for him the name 

Demanded by the now known majesty 

Of these high matters, then a god was he, 

Hear me, illustrious Memmius a god; 

Who first and chief found out that plan of life 

Which now is called philosophy, and who 

By cunning craft, out of such mighty waves, 

Out of such mighty darkness, moored life 

In havens so serene, in light so clear. 

Compare those old discoveries divine 

Of others: lo, according to the tale, 

Ceres established for mortality 

The grain, and Bacchus juice of vineborn grape, 

Though life might yet without these things abide, 

Even as report saith now some peoples live. 

But man's wellbeing was impossible 

Without a breast all free. Wherefore the more 

That man doth justly seem to us a god, 

From whom sweet solaces of life, afar 

Distributed o'er populous domains, 


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Now soothe the minds of men. But if thou thinkest 

Labours of Hercules excel the same, 

Much farther from true reasoning thou farest. 

For what could hurt us now that mighty maw 

Of Nemeaean Lion, or what the Boar 

Who bristled in Arcadia? Or, again, 

O what could Cretan Bull, or Hydra, pest 

Of Lerna, fenced with vipers venomous? 

Or what the triplebreasted power of her 

The threefold Geryon... 

The sojourners in the Stymphalian fens 

So dreadfully offend us, or the Steeds 

Of Thracian Diomedes breathing fire 

From out their nostrils off along the zones 

Bistonian and Ismarian? And the Snake, 

The dread fierce gazer, guardian of the golden 

And gleaming apples of the Hesperides, 

Coiled round the treetrunk with tremendous bulk, 

O what, again, could he inflict on us 

Along the Atlantic shore and wastes of sea? 

Where neither one of us approacheth nigh 

Nor no barbarian ventures. And the rest 

Of all those monsters slain, even if alive, 

Unconquered still, what injury could they do? 

None, as I guess. For so the glutted earth 

Swarms even now with savage beasts, even now 

Is filled with anxious terrors through the woods 

And mighty mountains and the forest deeps 

Quarters 'tis ours in general to avoid. 

But lest the breast be purged, what conflicts then, 

What perils, must bosom, in our own despite! 

O then how great and keen the cares of lust 

That split the man distraught! How great the fears! 

And lo, the pride, grim greed, and wantonness 

How great the slaughters in their train! and lo, 

Debaucheries and every breed of sloth! 

Therefore that man who subjugated these, 

And from the mind expelled, by words indeed, 

Not arms, O shall it not be seemly him 

To dignify by ranking with the gods? 

And all the more since he was wont to give, 

Concerning the immortal gods themselves, 

Many pronouncements with a tongue divine, 

And to unfold by his pronouncements all 

The nature of the world. 

Argument of the Book and New Proem Against Teleological Concept

And walking now 

In his own footprints, I do follow through 

His reasonings, and with pronouncements teach 

The covenant whereby all things are framed, 

How under that covenant they must abide 

Nor ever prevail to abrogate the aeons' 

Inexorable decrees how (as we've found), 

In class of mortal objects, o'er all else, 

The mind exists of earthborn frame create 

And impotent unscathed to abide 


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Across the mighty aeons, and how come 

In sleep those idolapparitions 

That so befool intelligence when we 

Do seem to view a man whom life has left. 

Thus far we've gone; the order of my plan 

Hath brought me now unto the point where I 

Must make report how, too, the universe 

Consists of mortal body, born in time, 

And in what modes that congregated stuff 

Established itself as earth and sky, 

Ocean, and stars, and sun, and ball of moon; 

And then what living creatures rose from out 

The old telluric places, and what ones 

Were never born at all; and in what mode 

The human race began to name its things 

And use the varied speech from man to man; 

And in what modes hath bosomed in their breasts 

That awe of gods, which halloweth in all lands 

Fanes, altars, groves, lakes, idols of the gods. 

Also I shall untangle by what power 

The steersman Nature guides the sun's courses, 

And the meanderings of the moon, lest we, 

Percase, should fancy that of own free will 

They circle their perennial courses round, 

Timing their motions for increase of crops 

And living creatures, or lest we should think 

They roll along by any plan of gods. 

For even those men who have learned full well 

That godheads lead a long life free of care, 

If yet meanwhile they wonder by what plan 

Things can go on (and chiefly yon high things 

Observed o'erhead on the ethereal coasts), 

Again are hurried back unto the fears 

Of old religion and adopt again 

Harsh masters, deemed almighty wretched men, 

Unwitting what can be and what cannot, 

And by what law to each its scope prescribed, 

Its boundary stone that clings so deep in Time. 

But for the rest, lest we delay thee here 

Longer by empty promises behold, 

Before all else, the seas, the lands, the sky: 

O Memmius, their threefold nature, lo, 

Their bodies three, three aspects so unlike, 

Three frames so vast, a single day shall give 

Unto annihilation! Then shall crash 

That massive form and fabric of the world 

Sustained so many aeons! Nor do I 

Fail to perceive how strange and marvellous 

This fact must strike the intellect of man, 

Annihilation of the sky and earth 

That is to be, and with what toil of words 

'Tis mine to prove the same; as happens oft 

When once ye offer to man's listening ears 

Something before unheard of, but may not 

Subject it to the view of eyes for him 

Nor put it into hand the sight and touch, 

Whereby the opened highways of belief 

Lead most directly into human breast 

And regions of intelligence. But yet 

I will speak out. The fact itself, perchance, 

Will force belief in these my words, and thou 


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Mayst see, in little time, tremendously 

With risen commotions of the lands all things 

Quaking to pieces which afar from us 

May she, the steersman Nature, guide: and may 

Reason, O rather than the fact itself, 

Persuade us that all things can be o'erthrown 

And sink with awfulsounding breakage down! 

But ere on this I take a step to utter 

Oracles holier and soundlier based 

Than ever the Pythian pronounced for men 

From out the tripod and the Delphian laurel, 

I will unfold for thee with learned words 

Many a consolation, lest perchance, 

Still bridled by religion, thou suppose 

Lands, sun, and sky, sea, constellations, moon, 

Must dure forever, as of frame divine 

And so conclude that it is just that those, 

(After the manner of the Giants), should all 

Pay the huge penalties for monstrous crime, 

Who by their reasonings do overshake 

The ramparts of the universe and wish 

There to put out the splendid sun of heaven, 

Branding with mortal talk immortal things 

Though these same things are even so far removed 

From any touch of deity and seem 

So far unworthy of numbering with the gods, 

That well they may be thought to furnish rather 

A goodly instance of the sort of things 

That lack the living motion, living sense. 

For sure 'tis quite beside the mark to think 

That judgment and the nature of the mind 

In any kind of body can exist 

Just as in ether can't exist a tree, 

Nor clouds in the salt sea, nor in the fields 

Can fishes live, nor blood in timber be, 

Nor sap in boulders: fixed and arranged 

Where everything may grow and have its place. 

Thus nature of mind cannot arise alone 

Without the body, nor have its being far 

From thews and blood. Yet if 'twere possible? 

Much rather might this very power of mind 

Be in the head, the shoulders, or the heels, 

And, born in any part soever, yet 

In the same man, in the same vessel abide 

But since within this body even of ours 

Stands fixed and appears arranged sure 

Where soul and mind can each exist and grow, 

Deny we must the more that they can dure 

Outside the body and the breathing form 

In rotting clods of earth, in the sun's fire, 

In water, or in ether's skiey coasts. 

Therefore these things no whit are furnished 

With sense divine, since never can they be 

With lifeforce quickened. 

Likewise, thou canst ne'er 

Believe the sacred seats of gods are here 

In any regions of this mundane world; 

Indeed, the nature of the gods, so subtle, 

So far removed from these our senses, scarce 

Is seen even by intelligence of mind. 

And since they've ever eluded touch and thrust 


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Of human hands, they cannot reach to grasp 

Aught tangible to us. For what may not 

Itself be touched in turn can never touch. 

Wherefore, besides, also their seats must be 

Unlike these seats of ours, even subtle too, 

As meet for subtle essence as I'll prove 

Hereafter unto thee with large discourse. 

Further, to say that for the sake of men 

They willed to prepare this world's magnificence, 

And that 'tis therefore duty and behoof 

To praise the work of gods as worthy praise, 

And that 'tis sacrilege for men to shake 

Ever by any force from out their seats 

What hath been stablished by the Forethought old 

To everlasting for races of mankind, 

And that 'tis sacrilege to assault by words 

And overtopple all from base to beam, 

Memmius, such notions to concoct and pile, 

Is verily to dote. Our gratefulness, 

O what emoluments could it confer 

Upon Immortals and upon the Blessed 

That they should take a step to manage aught 

For sake of us? Or what new factor could, 

After so long a time, inveigle them 

The hitherto reposeful to desire 

To change their former life? For rather he 

Whom old things chafe seems likely to rejoice 

At new; but one that in forepassed time 

Hath chanced upon no ill, through goodly years. 

O what could ever enkindle in such an one 

Passion for strange experiment? Or what 

The evil for us, if we had ne'er been born? 

As though, forsooth, in darkling realms and woe 

Our life were lying till should dawn at last 

The dayspring of creation! Whosoever 

Hath been begotten wills perforce to stay 

In life, so long as fond delight detains; 

But whoso ne'er hath tasted love of life, 

And ne'er was in the count of living things, 

What hurts it him that he was never born? 

Whence, further, first was planted in the gods 

The archetype for gendering the world 

And the forenotion of what man is like, 

So that they knew and preconceived with mind 

Just what they wished to make? Or how were known 

Ever the energies of primal germs, 

And what those germs, by interchange of place, 

Could thus produce, if nature's self had not 

Given example for creating all? 

For in such wise primordials of things, 

Many in many modes, astir by blows 

From immemorial aeons, in motion too 

By their own weights, have evermore been wont 

To be so borne along and in all modes 

To meet together and to try all sorts 

Which, by combining one with other, they 

Are powerful to create, that thus it is 

No marvel now, if they have also fallen 

Into arrangements such, and if they've passed 

Into vibrations such, as those whereby 

This sum of things is carried on today 

By fixed renewal. But knew I never what 


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The seeds primordial were, yet would I dare 

This to affirm, even from deep judgments based 

Upon the ways and conduct of the skies 

This to maintain by many a fact besides 

That in no wise the nature of all things 

For us was fashioned by a power divine 

So great the faults it stands encumbered with. 

First, mark all regions which are overarched 

By the prodigious reaches of the sky: 

One yawning part thereof the mountainchains 

And forests of the beasts do have and hold; 

And cliffs, and desert fens, and wastes of sea 

(Which sunder afar the beaches of the lands) 

Possess it merely; and, again, thereof 

Wellnigh twothirds intolerable heat 

And a perpetual fall of frost doth rob 

From mortal kind. And what is left to till, 

Even that the force of Nature would o'errun 

With brambles, did not human force oppose, 

Long wont for livelihood to groan and sweat 

Over the twopronged mattock and to cleave 

The soil in twain by pressing on the plough. 

Unless, by the ploughshare turning the fruitful clods 

And kneading the mould, we quicken into birth, 

The crops spontaneously could not come up 

Into the free bright air. Even then sometimes, 

When things acquired by the sternest toil 

Are now in leaf, are now in blossom all, 

Either the skiey sun with baneful heats 

Parches, or sudden rains or chilling rime 

Destroys, or flaws of winds with furious whirl 

Torment and twist. Beside these matters, why 

Doth Nature feed and foster on land and sea 

The dreadful breed of savage beasts, the foes 

Of the human clan? Why do the seasons bring 

Distempers with them? Wherefore stalks at large 

Death, so untimely? Then, again, the babe, 

Like to the castaway of the raging surf, 

Lies naked on the ground, speechless, in want 

Of every help for life, when Nature first 

Hath poured him forth upon the shores of light 

With birthpangs from within the mother's womb, 

And with a plaintive wail he fills the place, 

As well befitting one for whom remains 

In life a journey through so many ills. 

But all the flocks and herds and all wild beasts 

Come forth and grow, nor need the little rattles, 

Nor must be treated to the humouring nurse's 

Dear, broken chatter; nor seek they divers clothes 

To suit the changing skies; nor need, in fine, 

Nor arms, nor lofty ramparts, wherewithal 

Their own to guard because the earth herself 

And Nature, artificer of the world, bring forth 

Aboundingly all things for all. 

The World is Not Eternal

And first, 


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Since body of earth and water, air's light breath, 

And fiery exhalations (of which four 

This sum of things is seen to be compact) 

So all have birth and perishable frame, 

Thus the whole nature of the world itself 

Must be conceived as perishable too. 

For, verily, those things of which we see 

The parts and members to have birth in time 

And perishable shapes, those same we mark 

To be invariably born in time 

And born to die. And therefore when I see 

The mightiest members and the parts of this 

Our world consumed and begot again, 

'Tis mine to know that also sky above 

And earth beneath began of old in time 

And shall in time go under to disaster. 

And lest in these affairs thou deemest me 

To have seized upon this point by sleight to serve 

My own caprice because I have assumed 

That earth and fire are mortal things indeed, 

And have not doubted water and the air 

Both perish too and have affirmed the same 

To be again begotten and wax big 

Mark well the argument: in first place, lo, 

Some certain parts of earth, grievously parched 

By unremitting suns, and trampled on 

By a vast throng of feet, exhale abroad 

A powdery haze and flying clouds of dust, 

Which the stout winds disperse in the whole air. 

A part, moreover, of her sod and soil 

Is summoned to inundation by the rains; 

And rivers graze and gouge the banks away. 

Besides, whatever takes a part its own 

In fostering and increasing aught... 

Is rendered back; and since, beyond a doubt, 

Earth, the allmother, is beheld to be 

Likewise the common sepulchre of things, 

Therefore thou seest her minished of her plenty, 

And then again augmented with new growth. 

And for the rest, that sea, and streams, and springs 

Forever with new waters overflow 

And that perennially the fluids well. 

Needeth no words the mighty flux itself 

Of multitudinous waters round about 

Declareth this. But whatso water first 

Streams up is ever straightway carried off, 

And thus it comes to pass that all in all 

There is no overflow; in part because 

The burly winds (that oversweep amain) 

And skiey sun (that with his rays dissolves) 

Do minish the level seas; in part because 

The water is diffused underground 

Through all the lands. The brine is filtered off, 

And then the liquid stuff seeps back again 

And all regathers at the riverheads, 

Whence in freshwater currents on it flows 

Over the lands, adown the channels which 

Were cleft erstwhile and erstwhile bore along 

The liquidfooted floods. 

Now, then, of air 


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I'll speak, which hour by hour in all its body 

Is changed innumerably. For whatso'er 

Streams up in dust or vapour off of things, 

The same is all and always borne along 

Into the mighty ocean of the air; 

And did not air in turn restore to things 

Bodies, and thus recruit them as they stream, 

All things by this time had resolved been 

And changed into air. Therefore it never 

Ceases to be engendered off of things 

And to return to things, since verily 

In constant flux do all things stream. 

Likewise, 

The abounding wellspring of the liquid light, 

The ethereal sun, doth flood the heaven o'er 

With constant flux of radiance ever new, 

And with fresh light supplies the place of light, 

Upon the instant. For whatever effulgence 

Hath first streamed off, no matter where it falls, 

Is lost unto the sun. And this 'tis thine 

To know from these examples: soon as clouds 

Have first begun to underpass the sun, 

And, as it were, to rend the days of light 

In twain, at once the lower part of them 

Is lost entire, and earth is overcast 

Where'er the thunderheads are rolled along 

So know thou mayst that things forever need 

A fresh replenishment of gleam and glow, 

And each effulgence, foremost flashed forth, 

Perisheth one by one. Nor otherwise 

Can things be seen in sunlight, lest alway 

The fountainhead of light supply new light. 

Indeed your earthly beacons of the night, 

The hanging lampions and the torches, bright 

With darting gleams and dense with livid soot, 

Do hurry in like manner to supply 

With ministering heat new light amain; 

Are all alive to quiver with their fires, 

Are so alive, that thus the light ne'er leaves 

The spots it shines on, as if rent in twain: 

So speedily is its destruction veiled 

By the swift birth of flame from all the fires. 

Thus, then, we must suppose that sun and moon 

And stars dart forth their light from underbirths 

Ever and ever new, and whatso flames 

First rise do perish always one by one 

Lest, haply, thou shouldst think they each endure 

Inviolable. 

Again, perceivest not 

How stones are also conquered by Time? 

Not how the lofty towers ruin down, 

And boulders crumble? Not how shrines of gods 

And idols crack outworn? Nor how indeed 

The holy Influence hath yet no power 

There to postpone the Terminals of Fate, 

Or headway make 'gainst Nature's fixed decrees? 

Again, behold we not the monuments 

Of heroes, now in ruins, asking us, 

In their turn likewise, if we don't believe 

They also age with eld? Behold we not 

The rended basalt ruining amain 

Down from the lofty mountains, powerless 


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Page No 111


To dure and dree the mighty forces there 

Of finite time? for they would never fall 

Rended asudden, if from infinite Past 

They had prevailed against all engin'ries 

Of the assaulting aeons, with no crash. 

Again, now look at This, which round, above, 

Contains the whole earth in its one embrace: 

If from itself it procreates all things 

As some men tell and takes them to itself 

When once destroyed, entirely must it be 

Of mortal birth and body; for whate'er 

From out itself giveth to other things 

Increase and food, the same perforce must be 

Minished, and then recruited when it takes 

Things back into itself. 

Besides all this, 

If there had been no origininbirth 

Of lands and sky, and they had ever been 

The everlasting, why, ere Theban war 

And obsequies of Troy, have other bards 

Not also chanted other high affairs? 

Whither have sunk so oft so many deeds 

Of heroes? Why do those deeds live no more, 

Ingrafted in eternal monuments 

Of glory? Verily, I guess, because 

The Sum is new, and of a recent date 

The nature of our universe, and had 

Not long ago its own exordium. 

Wherefore, even now some arts are being still 

Refined, still increased: now unto ships 

Is being added many a new device; 

And but the other day musicianfolk 

Gave birth to melic sounds of organing; 

And, then, this nature, this account of things 

Hath been discovered latterly, and I 

Myself have been discovered only now, 

As first among the first, able to turn 

The same into ancestral Roman speech. 

Yet if, percase, thou deemest that ere this 

Existed all things even the same, but that 

Perished the cycles of the human race 

In fiery exhalations, or cities fell 

By some tremendous quaking of the world, 

Or rivers in fury, after constant rains, 

Had plunged forth across the lands of earth 

And whelmed the towns then, all the more must thou 

Confess, defeated by the argument, 

That there shall be annihilation too 

Of lands and sky. For at a time when things 

Were being taxed by maladies so great, 

And so great perils, if some cause more fell 

Had then assailed them, far and wide they would 

Have gone to disaster and supreme collapse. 

And by no other reasoning are we 

Seen to be mortal, save that all of us 

Sicken in turn with those same maladies 

With which have sickened in the past those men 

Whom Nature hath removed from life. 

Again, 

Whatever abides eternal must indeed 

Either repel all strokes, because 'tis made 

Of solid body, and permit no entrance 


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Page No 112


Of aught with power to sunder from within 

The parts compact as are those seeds of stuff 

Whose nature we've exhibited before; 

Or else be able to endure through time 

For this: because they are from blows exempt, 

As is the void, the which abides untouched, 

Unsmit by any stroke; or else because 

There is no room around, whereto things can, 

As 'twere, depart in dissolution all 

Even as the sum of sums eternal is, 

Without or place beyond whereto things may 

Asunder fly, or bodies which can smite, 

And thus dissolve them by the blows of might. 

But not of solid body, as I've shown, 

Exists the nature of the world, because 

In things is intermingled there a void; 

Nor is the world yet as the void, nor are, 

Moreover, bodies lacking which, percase, 

Rising from out the infinite, can fell 

With furywhirlwinds all this sum of things, 

Or bring upon them other cataclysm 

Of peril strange; and yonder, too, abides 

The infinite space and the profound abyss 

Whereinto, lo, the ramparts of the world 

Can yet be shivered. Or some other power 

Can pound upon them till they perish all. 

Thus is the door of doom, O nowise barred 

Against the sky, against the sun and earth 

And deepsea waters, but wide open stands 

And gloats upon them, monstrous and agape. 

Wherefore, again, 'tis needful to confess 

That these same things are born in time; for things 

Which are of mortal body could indeed 

Never from infinite past until today 

Have spurned the multitudinous assaults 

Of the immeasurable aeons old. 

Again, since battle so fiercely one with other 

The four most mighty members the world, 

Aroused in an all unholy war, 

Seest not that there may be for them an end 

Of the long strife? Or when the skiey sun 

And all the heat have won dominion o'er 

The suckedup waters all? And this they try 

Still to accomplish, though as yet they fail, 

For so aboundingly the streams supply 

New store of waters that 'tis rather they 

Who menace the world with inundations vast 

From forth the unplumbed chasms of the sea. 

But vain since winds (that oversweep amain) 

And skiey sun (that with his rays dissolves) 

Do minish the level seas and trust their power 

To dry up all, before the waters can 

Arrive at the end of their endeavouring. 

Breathing such vasty warfare, they contend 

In balanced strife the one with other still 

Concerning mighty issues though indeed 

The fire was once the more victorious, 

And once as goes the tale the water won 

A kingdom in the fields. For fire o'ermastered 

And licked up many things and burnt away, 

What time the impetuous horses of the Sun 


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Snatched Phaethon headlong from his skiey road 

Down the whole ether and over all the lands. 

But the omnipotent Father in keen wrath 

Then with the sudden smite of thunderbolt 

Did hurl the mightyminded hero off 

Those horses to the earth. And Sol, his sire, 

Meeting him as he fell, caught up in hand 

The everblazing lampion of the world, 

And drave together the pellmell horses there 

And yoked them all atremble, and amain, 

Steering them over along their own old road, 

Restored the cosmos as forsooth we hear 

From songs of ancient poets of the Greeks 

A tale too far away from truth, meseems. 

For fire can win when from the infinite 

Has risen a larger throng of particles 

Of fiery stuff; and then its powers succumb, 

Somehow subdued again, or else at last 

It shrivels in torrid atmospheres the world. 

And whilom water too began to win 

As goes the story when it overwhelmed 

The lives of men with billows; and thereafter, 

When all that force of waterstuff which forth 

From out the infinite had risen up 

Did now retire, as somehow turned aside, 

The rainstorms stopped, and streams their fury checked.

Formation of the World and Astronomical Questions

But in what modes that conflux of firststuff 

Did found the multitudinous universe 

Of earth, and sky, and the unfathomed deeps 

Of ocean, and courses of the sun and moon, 

I'll now in order tell. For of a truth 

Neither by counsel did the primal germs 

'Stablish themselves, as by keen act of mind, 

Each in its proper place; nor did they make, 

Forsooth, a compact how each germ should move; 

But, lo, because primordials of things, 

Many in many modes, astir by blows 

From immemorial aeons, in motion too 

By their own weights, have evermore been wont 

To be so borne along and in all modes 

To meet together and to try all sorts 

Which, by combining one with other, they 

Are powerful to create: because of this 

It comes to pass that those primordials, 

Diffused far and wide through mighty aeons, 

The while they unions try, and motions too, 

Of every kind, meet at the last amain, 

And so become oft the commencements fit 

Of mighty things earth, sea, and sky, and race 

Of living creatures. 

In that longago 

The wheel of the sun could nowhere be discerned 

Flying far up with its abounding blaze, 

Nor constellations of the mighty world, 

Nor ocean, nor heaven, nor even earth nor air. 

Nor aught of things like unto things of ours 


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Could then be seen but only some strange storm 

And a prodigious hurlyburly mass 

Compounded of all kinds of primal germs, 

Whose battling discords in disorder kept 

Interstices, and paths, coherencies, 

And weights, and blows, encounterings, and motions, 

Because, by reason of their forms unlike 

And varied shapes, they could not all thuswise 

Remain conjoined nor harmoniously 

Have interplay of movements. But from there 

Portions began to fly asunder, and like 

With like to join, and to block out a world, 

And to divide its members and dispose 

Its mightier parts that is, to set secure 

The lofty heavens from the lands, and cause 

The sea to spread with waters separate, 

And fires of ether separate and pure 

Likewise to congregate apart. 

For, lo, 

First came together the earthy particles 

(As being heavy and intertangled) there 

In the midregion, and all began to take 

The lowest abodes; and ever the more they got 

One with another intertangled, the more 

They pressed from out their mass those particles 

Which were to form the sea, the stars, the sun, 

And moon, and ramparts of the mighty world 

For these consist of seeds more smooth and round 

And of much smaller elements than earth. 

And thus it was that ether, fraught with fire, 

First broke away from out the earthen parts, 

Athrough the innumerable pores of earth, 

And raised itself aloft, and with itself 

Bore lightly off the many starry fires; 

And not far otherwise we often see 

And the still lakes and the perennial streams 

Exhale a mist, and even as earth herself 

Is seen at times to smoke, when first at dawn 

The light of the sun, the manyrayed, begins 

To redden into gold, over the grass 

Begemmed with dew. When all of these are brought 

Together overhead, the clouds on high 

With now concreted body weave a cover 

Beneath the heavens. And thuswise ether too, 

Light and diffusive, with concreted body 

On all sides spread, on all sides bent itself 

Into a dome, and, far and wide diffused 

On unto every region on all sides, 

Thus hedged all else within its greedy clasp. 

Hard upon ether came the origins 

Of sun and moon, whose globes revolve in air 

Midway between the earth and mightiest ether, 

For neither took them, since they weighed too little 

To sink and settle, but too much to glide 

Along the upmost shores; and yet they are 

In such a wise midway between the twain 

As ever to whirl their living bodies round, 

And ever to dure as parts of the wide Whole; 

In the same fashion as certain members may 

In us remain at rest, whilst others move. 

When, then, these substances had been withdrawn, 


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Page No 115


Amain the earth, where now extend the vast 

Cerulean zones of all the level seas, 

Caved in, and down along the hollows poured 

The whirlpools of her brine; and day by day 

The more the tides of ether and rays of sun 

On every side constrained into one mass 

The earth by lashing it again, again, 

Upon its outer edges (so that then, 

Being thus beat upon, 'twas all condensed 

About its proper centre), ever the more 

The salty sweat, from out its body squeezed, 

Augmented ocean and the fields of foam 

By seeping through its frame, and all the more 

Those many particles of heat and air 

Escaping, began to fly aloft, and form, 

By condensation there afar from earth, 

The high refulgent circuits of the heavens. 

The plains began to sink, and windy slopes 

Of the high mountains to increase; for rocks 

Could not subside, nor all the parts of ground 

Settle alike to one same level there. 

Thus, then, the massy weight of earth stood firm 

With now concreted body, when (as 'twere) 

All of the slime of the world, heavy and gross, 

Had run together and settled at the bottom, 

Like lees or bilge. Then ocean, then the air, 

Then ether herself, the fraughtwithfire, were all 

Left with their liquid bodies pure and free, 

And each more lighter than the next below; 

And ether, most light and liquid of the three, 

Floats on above the long aerial winds, 

Nor with the brawling of the winds of air 

Mingles its liquid body. It doth leave 

All there those underrealms below her heights 

There to be overset in whirlwinds wild, 

Doth leave all there to brawl in wayward gusts, 

Whilst, gliding with a fixed impulse still, 

Itself it bears its fires along. For, lo, 

That ether can flow thus steadily on, on, 

With one unaltered urge, the Pontus proves 

That sea which floweth forth with fixed tides, 

Keeping one onward tenor as it glides. 

And that the earth may there abide at rest 

In the midregion of the world, it needs 

Must vanish bit by bit in weight and lessen, 

And have another substance underneath, 

Conjoined to it from its earliest age 

In linked unison with the vasty world's 

Realms of the air in which it roots and lives. 

On this account, the earth is not a load, 

Nor presses down on winds of air beneath; 

Even as unto a man his members be 

Without all weight the head is not a load 

Unto the neck; nor do we feel the whole 

Weight of the body to centre in the feet. 

But whatso weights come on us from without, 

Weights laid upon us, these harass and chafe, 

Though often far lighter. For to such degree 

It matters always what the innate powers 

Of any given thing may be. The earth 


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Page No 116


Was, then, no alien substance fetched amain, 

And from no alien firmament cast down 

On alien air; but was conceived, like air, 

In the first origin of this the world, 

As a fixed portion of the same, as now 

Our members are seen to be a part of us. 

Besides, the earth, when of a sudden shook 

By the big thunder, doth with her motion shake 

All that's above her which she ne'er could do 

By any means, were earth not bounden fast 

Unto the great world's realms of air and sky: 

For they cohere together with common roots, 

Conjoined both, even from their earliest age, 

In linked unison. Aye, seest thou not 

That this most subtle energy of soul 

Supports our body, though so heavy a weight, 

Because, indeed, 'tis with it so conjoined 

In linked unison? What power, in sum, 

Can raise with agile leap our body aloft, 

Save energy of mind which steers the limbs? 

Now seest thou not how powerful may be 

A subtle nature, when conjoined it is 

With heavy body, as air is with the earth 

Conjoined, and energy of mind with us? 

Now let's us sing what makes the stars to move. 

In first place, if the mighty sphere of heaven 

Revolveth round, then needs we must aver 

That on the upper and the under pole 

Presses a certain air, and from without 

Confines them and encloseth at each end; 

And that, moreover, another air above 

Streams on athwart the top of the sphere and tends 

In same direction as are rolled along 

The glittering stars of the eternal world; 

Or that another still streams on below 

To whirl the sphere from under up and on 

In opposite direction as we see 

The rivers turn the wheels and waterscoops. 

It may be also that the heavens do all 

Remain at rest, whilst yet are borne along 

The lucid constellations; either because 

Swift tides of ether are by sky enclosed, 

And whirl around, seeking a passage out, 

And everywhere make roll the starry fires 

Through the Summanian regions of the sky; 

Or else because some air, streaming along 

From an eternal quarter off beyond, 

Whileth the driven fires, or, then, because 

The fires themselves have power to creep along, 

Going wherever their food invites and calls, 

And feeding their flaming bodies everywhere 

Throughout the sky. Yet which of these is cause 

In this our world 'tis hard to say for sure; 

But what can be throughout the universe, 

In divers worlds on divers plan create, 

This only do I show, and follow on 

To assign unto the motions of the stars 

Even several causes which 'tis possible 

Exist throughout the universal All; 

Of which yet one must be the cause even here 

Which maketh motion for our constellations. 


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Page No 117


Yet to decide which one of them it be 

Is not the least the business of a man 

Advancing step by cautious step, as I. 

Nor can the sun's wheel larger be by much 

Nor its own blaze much less than either seems 

Unto our senses. For from whatso spaces 

Fires have the power on us to cast their beams 

And blow their scorching exhalations forth 

Against our members, those same distances 

Take nothing by those intervals away 

From bulk of flames; and to the sight the fire 

Is nothing shrunken. Therefore, since the heat 

And the outpoured light of skiey sun 

Arrive our senses and caress our limbs, 

Form too and bigness of the sun must look 

Even here from earth just as they really be, 

So that thou canst scarce nothing take or add. 

And whether the journeying moon illuminate 

The regions round with bastard beams, or throw 

From off her proper body her own light, 

Whichever it be, she journeys with a form 

Naught larger than the form doth seem to be 

Which we with eyes of ours perceive. For all 

The far removed objects of our gaze 

Seem through much air confused in their look 

Ere minished in their bigness. Wherefore, moon, 

Since she presents bright look and clearcut form, 

May there on high by us on earth be seen 

Just as she is with extreme bounds defined, 

And just of the size. And lastly, whatso fires 

Of ether thou from earth beholdest, these 

Thou mayst consider as possibly of size 

The least bit less, or larger by a hair 

Than they appear since whatso fires we view 

Here in the lands of earth are seen to change 

From time to time their size to less or more 

Only the least, when more or less away, 

So long as still they bicker clear, and still 

Their glow's perceived. 

Nor need there be for men 

Astonishment that yonder sun so small 

Can yet send forth so great a light as fills 

Oceans and all the lands and sky aflood, 

And with its fiery exhalations steeps 

The world at large. For it may be, indeed, 

That one vastflowing wellspring of the whole 

Wide world from here hath opened and outgushed, 

And shot its light abroad; because thuswise 

The elements of fiery exhalations 

From all the world around together come, 

And thuswise flow into a bulk so big 

That from one single fountainhead may stream 

This heat and light. And seest thou not, indeed, 

How widely one small waterspring may wet 

The meadowlands at times and flood the fields? 

'Tis even possible, besides, that heat 

From forth the sun's own fire, albeit that fire 

Be not a great, may permeate the air 

With the fierce hot if but, perchance, the air 

Be of condition and so tempered then 

As to be kindled, even when beat upon 


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Page No 118


Only by little particles of heat 

Just as we sometimes see the standing grain 

Or stubble straw in conflagration all 

From one lone spark. And possibly the sun, 

Agleam on high with rosy lampion, 

Possesses about him with invisible heats 

A plenteous fire, by no effulgence marked, 

So that he maketh, he, the Fraughtwithfire, 

Increase to such degree the force of rays. 

Nor is there one sure cause revealed to men 

How the sun journeys from his summer haunts 

On to the midmost winter turningpoints 

In Capricorn, the thence reverting veers 

Back to solstitial goals of Cancer; nor 

How 'tis the moon is seen each month to cross 

That very distance which in traversing 

The sun consumes the measure of a year. 

I say, no one clear reason hath been given 

For these affairs. Yet chief in likelihood 

Seemeth the doctrine which the holy thought 

Of great Democritus lays down: that ever 

The nearer the constellations be to earth 

The less can they by whirling of the sky 

Be borne along, because those skiey powers 

Of speed aloft do vanish and decrease 

In underregions, and the sun is thus 

Left by degrees behind amongst those signs 

That follow after, since the sun he lies 

Far down below the starry signs that blaze; 

And the moon lags even tardier than the sun: 

In just so far as is her course removed 

From upper heaven and nigh unto the lands, 

In just so far she fails to keep the pace 

With starry signs above; for just so far 

As feebler is the whirl that bears her on, 

(Being, indeed, still lower than the sun), 

In just so far do all the starry signs, 

Circling around, o'ertake her and o'erpass. 

Therefore it happens that the moon appears 

More swiftly to return to any sign 

Along the Zodiac, than doth the sun, 

Because those signs do visit her again 

More swiftly than they visit the great sun. 

It can be also that two streams of air 

Alternately at fixed periods 

Blow out from transverse regions of the world, 

Of which the one may thrust the sun away 

From summersigns to midmost winter goals 

And rigors of the cold, and the other then 

May cast him back from icy shades of chill 

Even to the heatfraught regions and the signs 

That blaze along the Zodiac. So, too, 

We must suppose the moon and all the stars, 

Which through the mighty and sidereal years 

Roll round in mighty orbits, may be sped 

By streams of air from regions alternate. 

Seest thou not also how the clouds be sped 

By contrary winds to regions contrary, 

The lower clouds diversely from the upper? 

Then, why may yonder stars in ether there 

Along their mighty orbits not be borne 


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By currents opposite the one to other? 

But night o'erwhelms the lands with vasty murk 

Either when sun, after his diurnal course, 

Hath walked the ultimate regions of the sky 

And wearily hath panted forth his fires, 

Shivered by their long journeying and wasted 

By traversing the multitudinous air, 

Or else because the selfsame force that drave 

His orb along above the lands compels 

Him then to turn his course beneath the lands. 

Matuta also at a fixed hour 

Spreadeth the roseate morning out along 

The coasts of heaven and deploys the light, 

Either because the selfsame sun, returning 

Under the lands, aspires to seize the sky, 

Striving to set it blazing with his rays 

Ere he himself appear, or else because 

Fires then will congregate and many seeds 

Of heat are wont, even at a fixed time, 

To stream together gendering evermore 

New suns and light. Just so the story goes 

That from the Idaean mountaintops are seen 

Dispersed fires upon the break of day 

Which thence combine, as 'twere, into one ball 

And form an orb. Nor yet in these affairs 

Is aught for wonder that these seeds of fire 

Can thus together stream at time so fixed 

And shape anew the splendour of the sun. 

For many facts we see which come to pass 

At fixed time in all things: burgeon shrubs 

At fixed time, and at a fixed time 

They cast their flowers; and Eld commands the teeth, 

At time as surely fixed, to drop away, 

And Youth commands the growing boy to bloom 

With the soft down and let from both his cheeks 

The soft beard fall. And lastly, thunderbolts, 

Snow, rains, clouds, winds, at seasons of the year 

Nowise unfixed, all do come to pass. 

For where, even from their old primordial start 

Causes have ever worked in such a way, 

And where, even from the world's first origin, 

Thuswise have things befallen, so even now 

After a fixed order they come round 

In sequence also. 

Likewise, days may wax 

Whilst the nights wane, and daylight minished be 

Whilst nights do take their augmentations, 

Either because the selfsame sun, coursing 

Under the lands and over in two arcs, 

A longer and a briefer, doth dispart 

The coasts of ether and divides in twain 

His orbit all unequally, and adds, 

As round he's borne, unto the one half there 

As much as from the other half he's ta'en, 

Until he then arrives that sign of heaven 

Where the year's node renders the shades of night 

Equal unto the periods of light. 

For when the sun is midway on his course 

Between the blasts of north wind and of south, 

Heaven keeps his two goals parted equally, 

By virtue of the fixed position old 


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Of the whole starry Zodiac, through which 

That sun, in winding onward, takes a year, 

Illumining the sky and all the lands 

With oblique light as men declare to us 

Who by their diagrams have charted well 

Those regions of the sky which be adorned 

With the arranged signs of Zodiac. 

Or else, because in certain parts the air 

Under the lands is denser, the tremulous 

Bright beams of fire do waver tardily, 

Nor easily can penetrate that air 

Nor yet emerge unto their risingplace: 

For this it is that nights in winter time 

Do linger long, ere comes the manyrayed 

Round Badge of the day. Or else because, as said, 

In alternating seasons of the year 

Fires, now more quick, and now more slow, are wont 

To stream together the fires which make the sun 

To rise in some one spot therefore it is 

That those men seem to speak the truth who hold 

A new sun is with each new daybreak born. 

The moon she possibly doth shine because 

Strook by the rays of sun, and day by day 

May turn unto our gaze her light, the more 

She doth recede from orb of sun, until, 

Facing him opposite across the world, 

She hath with full effulgence gleamed abroad, 

And, at her rising as she soars above, 

Hath there observed his setting; thence likewise 

She needs must hide, as 'twere, her light behind 

By slow degrees, the nearer now she glides, 

Along the circle of the Zodiac, 

From her far place toward fires of yonder sun 

As those men hold who feign the moon to be 

Just like a ball and to pursue a course 

Betwixt the sun and earth. There is, again, 

Some reason to suppose that moon may roll 

With light her very own, and thus display 

The varied shapes of her resplendence there. 

For near her is, percase, another body, 

Invisible, because devoid of light, 

Borne on and gliding all along with her, 

Which in three modes may block and blot her disk. 

Again, she may revolve upon herself, 

Like to a ball's sphere if perchance that be 

One half of her dyed o'er with glowing light, 

And by the revolution of that sphere 

She may beget for us her varying shapes, 

Until she turns that fiery part of her 

Full to the sight and open eyes of men; 

Thence by slow stages round and back she whirls, 

Withdrawing thus the luminiferous part 

Of her sphered mass and ball, as, verily, 

The Babylonian doctrine of Chaldees, 

Refuting the art of Greek astrologers, 

Labours, in opposition, to prove sure 

As if, forsooth, the thing for which each fights, 

Might not alike be true or aught there were 

Wherefore thou mightest risk embracing one 

More than the other notion. Then, again, 

Why a new moon might not forevermore 


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Page No 121


Created be with fixed successions there 

Of shapes and with configurations fixed, 

And why each day that bright created moon 

Might not miscarry and another be, 

In its stead and place, engendered anew, 

'Tis hard to show by reason, or by words 

To prove absurd since, lo, so many things 

Can be create with fixed successions: 

Springtime and Venus come, and Venus' boy, 

The winged harbinger, steps on before, 

And hard on Zephyr's footprints Mother Flora, 

Sprinkling the ways before them, filleth all 

With colours and with odours excellent; 

Whereafter follows arid Heat, and he 

Companioned is by Ceres, dusty one, 

And by the Etesian Breezes of the north 

At rising of the dogstar of the year; 

Then cometh Autumn on, and with him steps 

Lord Bacchus, and then other Seasons too 

And other Winds do follow the high roar 

Of great Volturnus, and the Southwind strong 

With thunderbolts. At last earth's ShortestDay 

Bears on to men the snows and brings again 

The numbing cold. And Winter follows her, 

His teeth with chills achatter. Therefore, 'tis 

The less a marvel, if at fixed time 

A moon is thus begotten and again 

At fixed time destroyed, since things so many 

Can come to being thus at fixed time. 

Likewise, the sun's eclipses and the moon's 

Far occultations rightly thou mayst deem 

As due to several causes. For, indeed, 

Why should the moon be able to shut out 

Earth from the light of sun, and on the side 

To earthward thrust her high head under sun, 

Opposing dark orb to his glowing beams 

And yet, at same time, one suppose the effect 

Could not result from some one other body 

Which glides devoid of light forevermore? 

Again, why could not sun, in weakened state, 

At fixed time forlose his fires, and then, 

When he has passed on along the air 

Beyond the regions, hostile to his flames, 

That quench and kill his fires, why could not he 

Renew his light? And why should earth in turn 

Have power to rob the moon of light, and there, 

Herself on high, keep the sun hid beneath, 

Whilst the moon glideth in her monthly course 

Athrough the rigid shadows of the cone? 

And yet, at same time, some one other body 

Not have the power to underpass the moon, 

Or glide along above the orb of sun, 

Breaking his rays and outspread light asunder? 

And still, if moon herself refulgent be 

With her own sheen, why could she not at times 

In some one quarter of the mighty world 

Grow weak and weary, whilst she passeth through 

Regions unfriendly to the beams her own? 


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Page No 122


Origins of Vegetable and Animal Life

And now to what remains! Since I've resolved 

By what arrangements all things come to pass 

Through the blue regions of the mighty world, 

How we can know what energy and cause 

Started the various courses of the sun 

And the moon's goings, and by what far means 

They can succumb, the while with thwarted light, 

And veil with shade the unsuspecting lands, 

When, as it were, they blink, and then again 

With open eye survey all regions wide, 

Resplendent with white radiance I do now 

Return unto the world's primeval age 

And tell what first the soft young fields of earth 

With earliest parturition had decreed 

To raise in air unto the shores of light 

And to entrust unto the wayward winds. 

In the beginning, earth gave forth, around 

The hills and over all the length of plains, 

The race of grasses and the shining green; 

The flowery meadows sparkled all aglow 

With greening colour, and thereafter, lo, 

Unto the divers kinds of trees was given 

An emulous impulse mightily to shoot, 

With a free rein, aloft into the air. 

As feathers and hairs and bristles are begot 

The first on members of the fourfoot breeds 

And on the bodies of the strongywinged, 

Thus then the new Earth first of all put forth 

Grasses and shrubs, and afterward begat 

The mortal generations, there upsprung 

Innumerable in modes innumerable 

After diverging fashions. For from sky 

These breathingcreatures never can have dropped, 

Nor the landdwellers ever have come up 

Out of seapools of salt. How true remains, 

How merited is that adopted name 

Of earth "The Mother!" since from out the earth 

Are all begotten. And even now arise 

From out the loams how many living things 

Concreted by the rains and heat of the sun. 

Wherefore 'tis less a marvel, if they sprang 

In Long Ago more many, and more big, 

Matured of those days in the fresh young years 

Of earth and ether. First of all, the race 

Of the winged ones and particoloured birds, 

Hatched out in springtime, left their eggs behind; 

As nowadays in summer treecrickets 

Do leave their shiny husks of own accord, 

Seeking their food and living. Then it was 

This earth of thine first gave unto the day 

The mortal generations; for prevailed 

Among the fields abounding hot and wet. 

And hence, where any fitting spot was given, 

There 'gan to grow wombcavities, by roots 

Affixed to earth. And when in ripened time 

The age of the young within (that sought the air 

And fled earth's damps) had burst these wombs, O then 


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Would Nature thither turn the pores of earth 

And make her spurt from open veins a juice 

Like unto milk; even as a woman now 

Is filled, at childbearing, with the sweet milk, 

Because all that swift stream of aliment 

Is thither turned unto the motherbreasts. 

There earth would furnish to the children food; 

Warmth was their swaddling cloth, the grass their bed 

Abounding in soft down. Earth's newness then 

Would rouse no dour spells of the bitter cold, 

Nor extreme heats nor winds of mighty powers 

For all things grow and gather strength through time 

In like proportions; and then earth was young. 

Wherefore, again, again, how merited 

Is that adopted name of Earth The Mother! 

Since she herself begat the human race, 

And at one wellnigh fixed time brought forth 

Each breast that ranges raving round about 

Upon the mighty mountains and all birds 

Aerial with many a varied shape. 

But, lo, because her bearing years must end, 

She ceased, like to a woman worn by eld. 

For lapsing aeons change the nature of 

The whole wide world, and all things needs must take 

One status after other, nor aught persists 

Forever like itself. All things depart; 

Nature she changeth all, compelleth all 

To transformation. Lo, this moulders down, 

Aslack with weary eld, and that, again, 

Prospers in glory, issuing from contempt. 

In suchwise, then, the lapsing aeons change 

The nature of the whole wide world, and earth 

Taketh one status after other. And what 

She bore of old, she now can bear no longer, 

And what she never bore, she can today. 

In those days also the telluric world 

Strove to beget the monsters that upsprung 

With their astounding visages and limbs 

The Manwoman a thing betwixt the twain, 

Yet neither, and from either sex remote 

Some gruesome Boggles orphaned of the feet, 

Some widowed of the hands, dumb Horrors too 

Without a mouth, or blind Ones of no eye, 

Or Bulks all shackled by their legs and arms 

Cleaving unto the body fore and aft, 

Thuswise, that never could they do or go, 

Nor shun disaster, nor take the good they would. 

And other prodigies and monsters earth 

Was then begetting of this sort in vain, 

Since Nature banned with horror their increase, 

And powerless were they to reach unto 

The coveted flower of fair maturity, 

Or to find aliment, or to intertwine 

In works of Venus. For we see there must 

Concur in life conditions manifold, 

If life is ever by begetting life 

To forge the generations one by one: 

First, foods must be; and, next, a path whereby 

The seeds of impregnation in the frame 

May ooze, released from the members all; 


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Last, the possession of those instruments 

Whereby the male with female can unite, 

The one with other in mutual ravishments. 

And in the ages after monsters died, 

Perforce there perished many a stock, unable 

By propagation to forge a progeny. 

For whatsoever creatures thou beholdest 

Breathing the breath of life, the same have been 

Even from their earliest age preserved alive 

By cunning, or by valour, or at least 

By speed of foot or wing. And many a stock 

Remaineth yet, because of use to man, 

And so committed to man's guardianship. 

Valour hath saved alive fierce lionbreeds 

And many another terrorizing race, 

Cunning the foxes, flight the antlered stags. 

Lightsleeping dogs with faithful heart in breast, 

However, and every kind begot from seed 

Of beasts of draft, as, too, the woolly flocks 

And horned cattle, all, my Memmius, 

Have been committed to guardianship of men. 

For anxiously they fled the savage beasts, 

And peace they sought and their abundant foods, 

Obtained with never labours of their own, 

Which we secure to them as fit rewards 

For their good service. But those beasts to whom 

Nature has granted naught of these same things 

Beasts quite unfit by own free will to thrive 

And vain for any service unto us 

In thanks for which we should permit their kind 

To feed and be in our protection safe 

Those, of a truth, were wont to be exposed, 

Enshackled in the gruesome bonds of doom, 

As prey and booty for the rest, until 

Nature reduced that stock to utter death. 

But Centaurs ne'er have been, nor can there be 

Creatures of twofold stock and double frame, 

Compact of members alien in kind, 

Yet formed with equal function, equal force 

In every bodily part a fact thou mayst, 

However dull thy wits, well learn from this: 

The horse, when his three years have rolled away, 

Flowers in his prime of vigour; but the boy 

Not so, for oft even then he gropes in sleep 

After the milky nipples of the breasts, 

An infant still. And later, when at last 

The lusty powers of horses and stout limbs, 

Now weak through lapsing life, do fail with age, 

Lo, only then doth youth with flowering years 

Begin for boys, and clothe their ruddy cheeks 

With the soft down. So never deem, percase, 

That from a man and from the seed of horse, 

The beast of draft, can Centaurs be composed 

Or e'er exist alive, nor Scyllas be 

The halffish bodies girdled with mad dogs 

Nor others of this sort, in whom we mark 

Members discordant each with each; for ne'er 

At one same time they reach their flower of age 

Or gain and lose full vigour of their frame, 

And never burn with one same lust of love, 


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And never in their habits they agree, 

Nor find the same foods equally delightsome 

Sooth, as one oft may see the bearded goats 

Batten upon the hemlock which to man 

Is violent poison. Once again, since flame 

Is wont to scorch and burn the tawny bulks 

Of the great lions as much as other kinds 

Of flesh and blood existing in the lands, 

How could it be that she, Chimaera lone, 

With triple body fore, a lion she; 

And aft, a dragon; and betwixt, a goat 

Might at the mouth from out the body belch 

Infuriate flame? Wherefore, the man who feigns 

Such beings could have been engendered 

When earth was new and the young sky was fresh 

(Basing his empty argument on new) 

May babble with like reason many whims 

Into our ears: he'll say, perhaps, that then 

Rivers of gold through every landscape flowed, 

That trees were wont with precious stones to flower, 

Or that in those far aeons man was born 

With such gigantic length and lift of limbs 

As to be able, based upon his feet, 

Deep oceans to bestride; or with his hands 

To whirl the firmament around his head. 

For though in earth were many seeds of things 

In the old time when this telluric world 

First poured the breeds of animals abroad, 

Still that is nothing of a sign that then 

Such hybrid creatures could have been begot 

And limbs of all beasts heterogeneous 

Have been together knit; because, indeed, 

The divers kinds of grasses and the grains 

And the delightsome trees which even now 

Spring up abounding from within the earth 

Can still ne'er be begotten with their stems 

Begrafted into one; but each sole thing 

Proceeds according to its proper wont 

And all conserve their own distinctions based 

In Nature's fixed decree. 

Origins and Savage Period of Mankind

But mortal man 

Was then far hardier in the old champaign, 

As well he should be, since a hardier earth 

Had him begotten; builded too was he 

Of bigger and more solid bones within, 

And knit with stalwart sinews through the flesh, 

Nor easily seized by either heat or cold, 

Or alien food or any ail or irk. 

And whilst so many lustrums of the sun 

Rolled on across the sky, men led a life 

After the roving habit of wild beasts. 

Not then were sturdy guiders of curved ploughs, 

And none knew then to work the fields with iron, 

Or plant young shoots in holes of delved loam, 

Or lop with hooked knives from off high trees 

The boughs of yesteryear. What sun and rains 


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To them had given, what earth of own accord 

Created then, was boon enough to glad 

Their simple hearts. Mid acornladen oaks 

Would they refresh their bodies for the nonce; 

And the wild berries of the arbutetree, 

Which now thou seest to ripen purplered 

In winter time, the old telluric soil 

Would bear then more abundant and more big. 

And many coarse foods, too, in long ago 

The blooming freshness of the rank young world 

Produced, enough for those poor wretches there. 

And rivers and springs would summon them of old 

To slake the thirst, as now from the great hills 

The water's downrush calls aloud and far 

The thirsty generations of the wild. 

So, too, they sought the grottos of the Nymphs 

The woodland haunts discovered as they ranged 

From forth of which they knew that gliding rills 

With gush and splash abounding laved the rocks, 

The dripping rocks, and trickled from above 

Over the verdant moss; and here and there 

Welled up and burst across the open flats. 

As yet they knew not to enkindle fire 

Against the cold, nor hairy pelts to use 

And clothe their bodies with the spoils of beasts; 

But huddled in groves, and mountaincaves, and woods, 

And 'mongst the thickets hid their squalid backs, 

When driven to flee the lashings of the winds 

And the big rains. Nor could they then regard 

The general good, nor did they know to use 

In common any customs, any laws: 

Whatever of booty fortune unto each 

Had proffered, each alone would bear away, 

By instinct trained for self to thrive and live. 

And Venus in the forests then would link 

The lovers' bodies; for the woman yielded 

Either from mutual flame, or from the man's 

Impetuous fury and insatiate lust, 

Or from a bribe as acornnuts, choice pears, 

Or the wild berries of the arbutetree. 

And trusting wondrous strength of hands and legs, 

They'd chase the forestwanderers, the beasts; 

And many they'd conquer, but some few they fled, 

Askulk into their hidingplaces... 

With the flung stones and with the ponderous heft 

Of gnarled branch. And by the time of night 

O'ertaken, they would throw, like bristly boars, 

Their wildman's limbs naked upon the earth, 

Rolling themselves in leaves and fronded boughs. 

Nor would they call with lamentations loud 

Around the fields for daylight and the sun, 

Quaking and wand'ring in shadows of the night; 

But, silent and buried in a sleep, they'd wait 

Until the sun with rosy flambeau brought 

The glory to the sky. From childhood wont 

Ever to see the dark and day begot 

In times alternate, never might they be 

Wildered by wild misgiving, lest a night 

Eternal should posses the lands, with light 

Of sun withdrawn forever. But their care 

Was rather that the clans of savage beasts 


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Would often make their sleeptime horrible 

For those poor wretches; and, from home ydriven, 

They'd flee their rocky shelters at approach 

Of boar, the spumylipped, or lion strong, 

And in the midnight yield with terror up 

To those fierce guests their beds of outspread leaves. 

And yet in those days not much more than now 

Would generations of mortality 

Leave the sweet light of fading life behind. 

Indeed, in those days here and there a man, 

More oftener snatched upon, and gulped by fangs, 

Afforded the beasts a food that roared alive, 

Echoing through groves and hills and forest trees, 

Even as he viewed his living flesh entombed 

Within a living grave; whilst those whom flight 

Had saved, with bone and body bitten, shrieked, 

Pressing their quivering palms to loathsome sores, 

With horrible voices for eternal death 

Until, forlorn of help, and witless what 

Might medicine their wounds, the writhing pangs 

Took them from life. But not in those far times 

Would one lone day give over unto doom 

A soldiery in thousands marching on 

Beneath the battlebanners, nor would then 

The ramping breakers of the main seas dash 

Whole argosies and crews upon the rocks. 

But ocean uprisen would often rave in vain, 

Without all end or outcome, and give up 

Its empty menacings as lightly too; 

Nor soft seductions of a serene sea 

Could lure by laughing billows any man 

Out to disaster: for the science bold 

Of shipsailing lay dark in those far times. 

Again, 'twas then that lack of food gave o'er 

Men's fainting limbs to dissolution: now 

'Tis plenty overwhelms. Unwary, they 

Oft for themselves themselves would then outpour 

The poison; now, with nicer art, themselves 

They give the drafts to others. 

Beginnings of Civilization

Afterwards, 

When huts they had procured and pelts and fire, 

And when the woman, joined unto the man, 

Withdrew with him into one dwelling place, 

Were known; and when they saw an offspring born 

From out themselves, then first the human race 

Began to soften. For 'twas now that fire 

Rendered their shivering frames less staunch to bear, 

Under the canopy of the sky, the cold; 

And Love reduced their shaggy hardiness; 

And children, with the prattle and the kiss, 

Soon broke the parents' haughty temper down. 

Then, too, did neighbours 'gin to league as friends, 

Eager to wrong no more or suffer wrong, 

And urged for children and the womankind 


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Mercy, of fathers, whilst with cries and gestures 

They stammered hints how meet it was that all 

Should have compassion on the weak. And still, 

Though concord not in every wise could then 

Begotten be, a good, a goodly part 

Kept faith inviolate or else mankind 

Long since had been unutterably cut off, 

And propagation never could have brought 

The species down the ages. 

Lest, perchance, 

Concerning these affairs thou ponderest 

In silent meditation, let me say 

'Twas lightning brought primevally to earth 

The fire for mortals, and from thence hath spread 

O'er all the lands the flames of heat. For thus 

Even now we see so many objects, touched 

By the celestial flames, to flash aglow, 

When thunderbolt has dowered them with heat. 

Yet also when a manybranched tree, 

Beaten by winds, writhes swaying to and fro, 

Pressing 'gainst branches of a neighbour tree, 

There by the power of mighty rub and rub 

Is fire engendered; and at times outflares 

The scorching heat of flame, when boughs do chafe 

Against the trunks. And of these causes, either 

May well have given to mortal men the fire. 

Next, food to cook and soften in the flame 

The sun instructed, since so oft they saw 

How objects mellowed, when subdued by warmth 

And by the raining blows of fiery beams, 

Through all the fields. 

And more and more each day 

Would men more strong in sense, more wise in heart, 

Teach them to change their earlier mode and life 

By fire and new devices. Kings began 

Cities to found and citadels to set, 

As strongholds and asylums for themselves, 

And flocks and fields to portion for each man 

After the beauty, strength, and sense of each 

For beauty then imported much, and strength 

Had its own rights supreme. Thereafter, wealth 

Discovered was, and gold was brought to light, 

Which soon of honour stripped both strong and fair; 

For men, however beautiful in form 

Or valorous, will follow in the main 

The rich man's party. Yet were man to steer 

His life by sounder reasoning, he'd own 

Abounding riches, if with mind content 

He lived by thrift; for never, as I guess, 

Is there a lack of little in the world. 

But men wished glory for themselves and power 

Even that their fortunes on foundations firm 

Might rest forever, and that they themselves, 

The opulent, might pass a quiet life 

In vain, in vain; since, in the strife to climb 

On to the heights of honour, men do make 

Their pathway terrible; and even when once 

They reach them, envy like the thunderbolt 

At times will smite, O hurling headlong down 

To murkiest Tartarus, in scorn; for, lo, 

All summits, all regions loftier than the rest, 

Smoke, blasted as by envy's thunderbolts; 


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So better far in quiet to obey, 

Than to desire chief mastery of affairs 

And ownership of empires. Be it so; 

And let the weary sweat their lifeblood out 

All to no end, battling in hate along 

The narrow path of man's ambition 

Since all their wisdom is from others' lips, 

And all they seek is known from what they've heard 

And less from what they've thought. Nor is this folly 

Greater today, nor greater soon to be, 

Than' twas of old. 

And therefore kings were slain, 

And pristine majesty of golden thrones 

And haughty sceptres lay o'erturned in dust; 

And crowns, so splendid on the sovereign heads, 

Soon bloody under the proletarian feet, 

Groaned for their glories gone for erst o'ermuch 

Dreaded, thereafter with more greedy zest 

Trampled beneath the rabble heel. Thus things 

Down to the vilest lees of brawling mobs 

Succumbed, whilst each man sought unto himself 

Dominion and supremacy. So next 

Some wiser heads instructed men to found 

The magisterial office, and did frame 

Codes that they might consent to follow laws. 

For humankind, o'er wearied with a life 

Fostered by force, was ailing from its feuds; 

And so the sooner of its own free will 

Yielded to laws and strictest codes. For since 

Each hand made ready in its wrath to take 

A vengeance fiercer than by man's fair laws 

Is now conceded, men on this account 

Loathed the old life fostered by force. 'Tis thence 

That fear of punishments defiles each prize 

Of wicked days; for force and fraud ensnare 

Each man around, and in the main recoil 

On him from whence they sprung. Not easy 'tis 

For one who violates by ugly deeds 

The bonds of common peace to pass a life 

Composed and tranquil. For albeit he 'scape 

The race of gods and men, he yet must dread 

'Twill not be hid forever since, indeed, 

So many, oft babbling on amid their dreams 

Or raving in sickness, have betrayed themselves 

(As stories tell) and published at last 

Old secrets and the sins. 

But Nature 'twas 

Urged men to utter various sounds of tongue 

And need and use did mould the names of things, 

About in same wise as the lackspeech years 

Compel young children unto gesturings, 

Making them point with finger here and there 

At what's before them. For each creature feels 

By instinct to what use to put his powers. 

Ere yet the bullcalf's scarce begotten horns 

Project above his brows, with them he 'gins 

Enraged to butt and savagely to thrust. 

But whelps of panthers and the lion's cubs 

With claws and paws and bites are at the fray 

Already, when their teeth and claws be scarce 

As yet engendered. So again, we see 

All breeds of winged creatures trust to wings 


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And from their fledgling pinions seek to get 

A fluttering assistance. Thus, to think 

That in those days some man apportioned round 

To things their names, and that from him men learned 

Their first nomenclature, is foolery. 

For why could he mark everything by words 

And utter the various sounds of tongue, what time 

The rest may be supposed powerless 

To do the same? And, if the rest had not 

Already one with other used words, 

Whence was implanted in the teacher, then, 

Foreknowledge of their use, and whence was given 

To him alone primordial faculty 

To know and see in mind what 'twas he willed? 

Besides, one only man could scarce subdue 

An overmastered multitude to choose 

To get by heart his names of things. A task 

Not easy 'tis in any wise to teach 

And to persuade the deaf concerning what 

'Tis needful for to do. For ne'er would they 

Allow, nor ne'er in anywise endure 

Perpetual vain dingdong in their ears 

Of spoken sounds unheard before. And what, 

At last, in this affair so wondrous is, 

That human race (in whom a voice and tongue 

Were now in vigour) should by divers words 

Denote its objects, as each divers sense 

Might prompt? since even the speechless herds, aye, since

The very generations of wild beasts 

Are wont dissimilar and divers sounds 

To rouse from in them, when there's fear or pain, 

And when they burst with joys. And this, forsooth, 

'Tis thine to know from plainest facts: when first 

Huge flabby jowls of mad Molossian hounds, 

Baring their hard white teeth, begin to snarl, 

They threaten, with infuriate lips peeled back, 

In sounds far other than with which they bark 

And fill with voices all the regions round. 

And when with fondling tongue they start to lick 

Their puppies, or do toss them round with paws, 

Feigning with gentle bites to gape and snap, 

They fawn with yelps of voice far other then 

Than when, alone within the house, they bay, 

Or whimpering slink with cringing sides from blows. 

Again the neighing of the horse, is that 

Not seen to differ likewise, when the stud 

In buoyant flower of his young years raves, 

Goaded by winged Love, amongst the mares, 

And when with widening nostrils out he snorts 

The call to battle, and when haply he 

Whinnies at times with terrorquaking limbs? 

Lastly, the flying race, the dappled birds, 

Hawks, ospreys, seagulls, searching food and life 

Amid the ocean billows in the brine, 

Utter at other times far other cries 

Then when they fight for food, or with their prey 

Struggle and strain. And birds there are which change 

With changing weather their own raucous songs 

As longlived generations of the crows 

Or flocks of rooks, when they be said to cry 

For rain and water and to call at times 


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For winds and gales. Ergo, if divers moods 

Compel the brutes, though speechless evermore, 

To send forth divers sounds, O truly then 

How much more likely 'twere that mortal men 

In those days could with many a different sound 

Denote each separate thing. 

And now what cause 

Hath spread divinities of gods abroad 

Through mighty nations, and filled the cities full 

Of the high altars, and led to practices 

Of solemn rites in season rites which still 

Flourish in midst of great affairs of state 

And midst great centres of man's civic life, 

The rites whence still a poor mortality 

Is grafted that quaking awe which rears aloft 

Still the new temples of gods from land to land 

And drives mankind to visit them in throngs 

On holy days 'tis not so hard to give 

Reason thereof in speech. Because, in sooth, 

Even in those days would the race of man 

Be seeing excelling visages of gods 

With mind awake; and in his sleeps, yet more 

Bodies of wondrous growth. And, thus, to these 

Would men attribute sense, because they seemed 

To move their limbs and speak pronouncements high, 

Befitting glorious visage and vast powers. 

And men would give them an eternal life, 

Because their visages forevermore 

Were there before them, and their shapes remained, 

And chiefly, however, because men would not think 

Beings augmented with such mighty powers 

Could well by any force o'ermastered be. 

And men would think them in their happiness 

Excelling far, because the fear of death 

Vexed no one of them at all, and since 

At same time in men's sleeps men saw them do 

So many wonders, and yet feel therefrom 

Themselves no weariness. Besides, men marked 

How in a fixed order rolled around 

The systems of the sky, and changed times 

On annual seasons, nor were able then 

To know thereof the causes. Therefore 'twas 

Men would take refuge in consigning all 

Unto divinities, and in feigning all 

Was guided by their nod. And in the sky 

They set the seats and vaults of gods, because 

Across the sky night and the moon are seen 

To roll along moon, day, and night, and night's 

Old awesome constellations evermore, 

And the nightwandering fireballs of the sky, 

And flying flames, clouds, and the sun, the rains, 

Snow and the winds, the lightnings, and the hail, 

And the swift rumblings, and the hollow roar 

Of mighty menacings forevermore. 

O humankind unhappy! when it ascribed 

Unto divinities such awesome deeds, 

And coupled thereto rigours of fierce wrath! 

What groans did men on that sad day beget 

Even for themselves, and O what wounds for us, 

What tears for our children's children! Nor, O man, 

Is thy true piety in this: with head 

Under the veil, still to be seen to turn 


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Fronting a stone, and ever to approach 

Unto all altars; nor so prone on earth 

Forward to fall, to spread upturned palms 

Before the shrines of gods, nor yet to dew 

Altars with profuse blood of fourfoot beasts, 

Nor vows with vows to link. But rather this: 

To look on all things with a master eye 

And mind at peace. For when we gaze aloft 

Upon the skiey vaults of yon great world 

And ether, fixed high o'er twinkling stars, 

And into our thought there come the journeyings 

Of sun and moon, O then into our breasts, 

O'erburdened already with their other ills, 

Begins forthwith to rear its sudden head 

One more misgiving: lest o'er us, percase, 

It be the gods' immeasurable power 

That rolls, with varied motion, round and round 

The far white constellations. For the lack 

Of aught of reasons tries the puzzled mind: 

Whether was ever a birthtime of the world, 

And whether, likewise, any end shall be. 

How far the ramparts of the world can still 

Outstand this strain of everroused motion, 

Or whether, divinely with eternal weal 

Endowed, they can through endless tracts of age 

Glide on, defying the o'ermighty powers 

Of the immeasurable ages. Lo, 

What man is there whose mind with dread of gods 

Cringes not close, whose limbs with terrorspell 

Crouch not together, when the parched earth 

Quakes with the horrible thunderbolt amain, 

And across the mighty sky the rumblings run? 

Do not the peoples and the nations shake, 

And haughty kings do they not hug their limbs, 

Strook through with fear of the divinities, 

Lest for aught foully done or madly said 

The heavy time be now at hand to pay? 

When, too, fierce force of furywinds at sea 

Sweepeth a navy's admiral down the main 

With his stout legions and his elephants, 

Doth he not seek the peace of gods with vows, 

And beg in prayer, atremble, lulled winds 

And friendly gales? in vain, since, often upcaught 

In furycyclones, is he borne along, 

For all his mouthings, to the shoals of doom. 

Ah, so irrevocably some hidden power 

Betramples forevermore affairs of men, 

And visibly grindeth with its heel in mire 

The lictors' glorious rods and axes dire, 

Having them in derision! Again, when earth 

From end to end is rocking under foot, 

And shaken cities ruin down, or threaten 

Upon the verge, what wonder is it then 

That mortal generations abase themselves, 

And unto gods in all affairs of earth 

Assign as last resort almighty powers 

And wondrous energies to govern all? 

Now for the rest: copper and gold and iron 

Discovered were, and with them silver's weight 

And power of lead, when with prodigious heat 

The conflagrations burned the forest trees 


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Among the mighty mountains, by a bolt 

Of lightning from the sky, or else because 

Men, warring in the woodlands, on their foes 

Had hurled fire to frighten and dismay, 

Or yet because, by goodness of the soil 

Invited, men desired to clear rich fields 

And turn the countryside to pasturelands, 

Or slay the wild and thrive upon the spoils. 

(For hunting by pitfall and by fire arose 

Before the art of hedging the covert round 

With net or stirring it with dogs of chase.) 

Howso the fact, and from what cause soever 

The flamy heat with awful crack and roar 

Had there devoured to their deepest roots 

The forest trees and baked the earth with fire, 

Then from the boiling veins began to ooze 

O rivulets of silver and of gold, 

Of lead and copper too, collecting soon 

Into the hollow places of the ground. 

And when men saw the cooled lumps anon 

To shine with splendoursheen upon the ground, 

Much taken with that lustrous smooth delight, 

They 'gan to pry them out, and saw how each 

Had got a shape like to its earthy mould. 

Then would it enter their heads how these same lumps, 

If melted by heat, could into any form 

Or figure of things be run, and how, again, 

If hammered out, they could be nicely drawn 

To sharpest points or finest edge, and thus 

Yield to the forgers tools and give them power 

To chop the forest down, to hew the logs, 

To shave the beams and planks, besides to bore 

And punch and drill. And men began such work 

At first as much with tools of silver and gold 

As with the impetuous strength of the stout copper; 

But vainly since their overmastered power 

Would soon give way, unable to endure, 

Like copper, such hard labour. In those days 

Copper it was that was the thing of price; 

And gold lay useless, blunted with dull edge. 

Now lies the copper low, and gold hath come 

Unto the loftiest honours. Thus it is 

That rolling ages change the times of things: 

What erst was of a price, becomes at last 

A discard of no honour; whilst another 

Succeeds to glory, issuing from contempt, 

And day by day is sought for more and more, 

And, when 'tis found, doth flower in men's praise, 

Objects of wondrous honour. 

Now, Memmius, 

How nature of iron discovered was, thou mayst 

Of thine own self divine. Man's ancient arms 

Were hands, and nails and teeth, stones too and boughs 

Breakage of forest trees and flame and fire, 

As soon as known. Thereafter force of iron 

And copper discovered was; and copper's use 

Was known ere iron's, since more tractable 

Its nature is and its abundance more. 

With copper men to work the soil began, 

With copper to rouse the hurly waves of war, 

To straw the monstrous wounds, and seize away 

Another's flocks and fields. For unto them, 


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Thus armed, all things naked of defence 

Readily yielded. Then by slow degrees 

The sword of iron succeeded, and the shape 

Of brazen sickle into scorn was turned: 

With iron to cleave the soil of earth they 'gan, 

And the contentions of uncertain war 

Were rendered equal. 

And, lo, man was wont 

Armed to mount upon the ribs of horse 

And guide him with the rein, and play about 

With right hand free, oft times before he tried 

Perils of war in yoked chariot; 

And yoked pairs abreast came earlier 

Than yokes of four, or scythed chariots 

Whereinto clomb the menatarms. And next 

The Punic folk did train the elephants 

Those curst Lucanian oxen, hideous, 

The serpenthanded, with turrets on their bulks 

To dure the wounds of war and panicstrike 

The mighty troops of Mars. Thus Discord sad 

Begat the one Thing after other, to be 

The terror of the nations under arms, 

And day by day to horrors of old war 

She added an increase. 

Bulls, too, they tried 

In war's grim business; and essayed to send 

Outrageous boars against the foes. And some 

Sent on before their ranks puissant lions 

With armed trainers and with masters fierce 

To guide and hold in chains and yet in vain, 

Since fleshed with pellmell slaughter, fierce they flew,

And blindly through the squadrons havoc wrought, 

Shaking the frightful crests upon their heads, 

Now here, now there. Nor could the horsemen calm 

Their horses, panicbreasted at the roar, 

And rein them round to front the foe. With spring 

The infuriate shelions would upleap 

Now here, now there; and whoso came apace 

Against them, these they'd rend across the face; 

And others unwitting from behind they'd tear 

Down from their mounts, and twining round them, bring 

Tumbling to earth, o'ermastered by the wound, 

And with those powerful fangs and hooked claws 

Fasten upon them. Bulls would toss their friends, 

And trample under foot, and from beneath 

Rip flanks and bellies of horses with their horns, 

And with a threat'ning forehead jam the sod; 

And boars would gore with stout tusks their allies, 

Splashing in fury their own blood on spears 

Splintered in their own bodies, and would fell 

In rout and ruin infantry and horse. 

For there the beastsofsaddle tried to scape 

The savage thrusts of tusk by shying off, 

Or rearing up with hoofs apaw in air. 

In vain since there thou mightest see them sink, 

Their sinews severed, and with heavy fall 

Bestrew the ground. And such of these as men 

Supposed welltrained long ago at home, 

Were in the thick of action seen to foam 

In fury, from the wounds, the shrieks, the flight, 

The panic, and the tumult; nor could men 


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Aught of their numbers rally. For each breed 

And various of the wild beasts fled apart 

Hither or thither, as often in wars today 

Flee those Lucanian oxen, by the steel 

Grievously mangled, after they have wrought 

Upon their friends so many a dreadful doom. 

(If 'twas, indeed, that thus they did at all: 

But scarcely I'll believe that men could not 

With mind foreknow and see, as sure to come, 

Such foul and general disaster. This 

We, then, may hold as true in the great All, 

In divers worlds on divers plan create, 

Somewhere afar more likely than upon 

One certain earth.) But men chose this to do 

Less in the hope of conquering than to give 

Their enemies a goodly cause of woe, 

Even though thereby they perished themselves, 

Since weak in numbers and since wanting arms. 

Now, clothes of roughly interplaited strands 

Were earlier than loomwove coverings; 

The loomwove later than man's iron is, 

Since iron is needful in the weaving art, 

Nor by no other means can there be wrought 

Such polished tools the treadles, spindles, shuttles, 

And sounding yarnbeams. And Nature forced the men, 

Before the woman kind, to work the wool: 

For all the male kind far excels in skill, 

And cleverer is by much until at last 

The rugged farmer folk jeered at such tasks, 

And so were eager soon to give them o'er 

To women's hands, and in more hardy toil 

To harden arms and hands. 

But Nature herself, 

Mother of things, was the first seedsower 

And primal grafter; since the berries and acorns, 

Dropping from off the trees, would there beneath 

Put forth in season swarms of little shoots; 

Hence too men's fondness for ingrafting slips 

Upon the boughs and setting out in holes 

The young shrubs o'er the fields. Then would they try 

Ever new modes of tilling their loved crofts, 

And mark they would how earth improved the taste 

Of the wild fruits by fond and fostering care. 

And day by day they'd force the woods to move 

Still higher up the mountain, and to yield 

The place below for tilth, that there they might, 

On plains and uplands, have their meadowplats, 

Cisterns and runnels, crops of standing grain, 

And happy vineyards, and that all along 

O'er hillocks, intervales, and plains might run 

The silverygreen belt of olivetrees, 

Marking the plotted landscape; even as now 

Thou seest so marked with varied loveliness 

All the terrain which men adorn and plant 

With rows of goodly fruittrees and hedge round 

With thriving shrubberies sown. 

But by the mouth 

To imitate the liquid notes of birds 

Was earlier far 'mongst men than power to make, 

By measured song, melodious verse and give 

Delight to ears. And whistlings of the wind 


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Athrough the hollows of the reeds first taught 

The peasantry to blow into the stalks 

Of hollow hemlockherb. Then bit by bit 

They learned sweet plainings, such as pipe outpours, 

Beaten by fingertips of singing men, 

When heard through unpathed groves and forest deeps 

And woodsy meadows, through the untrod haunts 

Of shepherd folk and spots divinely still. 

Thus time draws forward each and everything 

Little by little unto the midst of men, 

And reason uplifts it to the shores of light. 

These tunes would sooth and glad the minds of mortals 

When sated with food for songs are welcome then. 

And often, lounging with friends in the soft grass 

Beside a river of water, underneath 

A big tree's branches, merrily they'd refresh 

Their frames, with no vast outlay most of all 

If the weather were smiling and the times of the year 

Were painting the green of the grass around with flowers.

Then jokes, then talk, then peals of jollity 

Would circle round; for then the rustic muse 

Was in her glory; then would antic Mirth 

Prompt them to garland head and shoulders about 

With chaplets of intertwined flowers and leaves, 

And to dance onward, out of tune, with limbs 

Clownishly swaying, and with clownish foot 

To beat our Mother Earth from whence arose 

Laughter and peals of jollity, for, lo, 

Such frolic acts were in their glory then, 

Being more new and strange. And wakeful men 

Found solaces for their unsleeping hours 

In drawing forth variety of notes, 

In modulating melodies, in running 

With puckered lips along the tuned reeds, 

Whence, even in our day do the watchmen guard 

These old traditions, and have learned well 

To keep true measure. And yet they no whit 

Do get a larger fruit of gladsomeness 

Than got the woodland aborigines 

In olden times. For what we have at hand 

If theretofore naught sweeter we have known 

That chiefly pleases and seems best of all; 

But then some later, likely better, find 

Destroys its worth and changes our desires 

Regarding good of yesterday. 

And thus 

Began the loathing of the acorn; thus 

Abandoned were those beds with grasses strewn 

And with the leaves beladen. Thus, again, 

Fell into new contempt the pelts of beasts 

Erstwhile a robe of honour, which, I guess, 

Aroused in those days envy so malign 

That the first wearer went to woeful death 

By ambuscades and yet that hairy prize, 

Rent into rags by greedy foemen there 

And splashed by blood, was ruined utterly 

Beyond all use or vantage. Thus of old 

'Twas pelts, and of today 'tis purple and gold 

That cark men's lives with cares and weary with war. 

Wherefore, methinks, resides the greater blame 

With us vain men today: for cold would rack, 


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Without their pelts, the naked sons of earth; 

But us it nothing hurts to do without 

The purple vestment, broidered with gold 

And with imposing figures, if we still 

Make shift with some mean garment of the Plebs. 

So man in vain futilities toils on 

Forever and wastes in idle cares his years 

Because, of very truth, he hath not learnt 

What the true end of getting is, nor yet 

At all how far true pleasure may increase. 

And 'tis desire for better and for more 

Hath carried by degrees mortality 

Out onward to the deep, and roused up 

From the far bottom mighty waves of war. 

But sun and moon, those watchmen of the world, 

With their own lanterns traversing around 

The mighty, the revolving vault, have taught 

Unto mankind that seasons of the years 

Return again, and that the Thing takes place 

After a fixed plan and order fixed. 

Already would they pass their life, hedged round 

By the strong towers; and cultivate an earth 

All portioned out and boundaried; already, 

Would the sea flower and sailwinged ships; 

Already men had, under treaty pacts, 

Confederates and allies, when poets began 

To hand heroic actions down in verse; 

Nor long ere this had letters been devised 

Hence is our age unable to look back 

On what has gone before, except where reason 

Shows us a footprint. 

Sailings on the seas, 

Tillings of fields, walls, laws, and arms, and roads, 

Dress and the like, all prizes, all delights 

Of finer life, poems, pictures, chiselled shapes 

Of polished sculptures all these arts were learned 

By practice and the mind's experience, 

As men walked forward step by eager step. 

Thus time draws forward each and everything 

Little by little into the midst of men, 

And reason uplifts it to the shores of light. 

For one thing after other did men see 

Grow clear by intellect, till with their arts 

They've now achieved the supreme pinnacle. 

BOOK VI

Proem

'Twas Athens first, the glorious in name, 

That whilom gave to hapless sons of men 

The sheaves of harvest, and reordered life, 

And decreed laws; and she the first that gave 

Life its sweet solaces, when she begat 

A man of heart so wise, who whilom poured 

All wisdom forth from his truthspeaking mouth; 


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The glory of whom, though dead, is yet today, 

Because of those discoveries divine 

Renowned of old, exalted to the sky. 

For when saw he that wellnigh everything 

Which needs of man most urgently require 

Was ready to hand for mortals, and that life, 

As far as might be, was established safe, 

That men were lords in riches, honour, praise, 

And eminent in goodly fame of sons, 

And that they yet, O yet, within the home, 

Still had the anxious heart which vexed life 

Unpausingly with torments of the mind, 

And raved perforce with angry plaints, then he, 

Then he, the master, did perceive that 'twas 

The vessel itself which worked the bane, and all, 

However wholesome, which from here or there 

Was gathered into it, was by that bane 

Spoilt from within in part, because he saw 

The vessel so cracked and leaky that nowise 

'Tcould ever be filled to brim; in part because 

He marked how it polluted with foul taste 

Whate'er it got within itself. So he, 

The master, then by his truthspeaking words, 

Purged the breasts of men, and set the bounds 

Of lust and terror, and exhibited 

The supreme good whither we all endeavour, 

And showed the path whereby we might arrive 

Thereunto by a little crosscut straight, 

And what of ills in all affairs of mortals 

Upsprang and flitted deviously about 

(Whether by chance or force), since Nature thus 

Had destined; and from out what gates a man 

Should sally to each combat. And he proved 

That mostly vainly doth the human race 

Roll in its bosom the grim waves of care. 

For just as children tremble and fear all 

In the viewless dark, so even we at times 

Dread in the light so many things that be 

No whit more fearsome than what children feign, 

Shuddering, will be upon them in the dark. 

This terror then, this darkness of the mind, 

Not sunrise with its flaring spokes of light, 

Nor glittering arrows of morning can disperse, 

But only Nature's aspect and her law. 

Wherefore the more will I go on to weave 

In verses this my undertaken task. 

And since I've taught thee that the world's great vaults

Are mortal and that sky is fashioned 

Of frame e'en born in time, and whatsoe'er 

Therein go on and must perforce go on 

The most I have unravelled; what remains 

Do thou take in, besides; since once for all 

To climb into that chariot' renowned 

Of winds arise; and they appeased are 

So that all things again... 

Which were, are changed now, with fury stilled; 

All other movements through the earth and sky 


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Which mortals gaze upon (O anxious oft 

In quaking thoughts!), and which abase their minds 

With dread of deities and press them crushed 

Down to the earth, because their ignorance 

Of cosmic causes forces them to yield 

All things unto the empery of gods 

And to concede the kingly rule to them. 

For even those men who have learned full well 

That godheads lead a long life free of care, 

If yet meanwhile they wonder by what plan 

Things can go on (and chiefly yon high things 

Observed o'erhead on the ethereal coasts), 

Again are hurried back unto the fears 

Of old religion and adopt again 

Harsh masters, deemed almighty, wretched men, 

Unwitting what can be and what cannot, 

And by what law to each its scope prescribed, 

Its boundary stone that clings so deep in Time. 

Wherefore the more are they borne wandering on 

By blindfold reason. And, Memmius, unless 

From out thy mind thou spewest all of this 

And casteth far from thee all thoughts which be 

Unworthy gods and alien to their peace, 

Then often will the holy majesties 

Of the high gods be harmful unto thee, 

As by thy thought degraded, not, indeed, 

That essence supreme of gods could be by this 

So outraged as in wrath to thirst to seek 

Revenges keen; but even because thyself 

Thou plaguest with the notion that the gods, 

Even they, the Calm Ones in serene repose, 

Do roll the mighty waves of wrath on wrath; 

Nor wilt thou enter with a serene breast 

Shrines of the gods; nor wilt thou able be 

In tranquil peace of mind to take and know 

Those images which from their holy bodies 

Are carried into intellects of men, 

As the announcers of their form divine. 

What sort of life will follow after this 

'Tis thine to see. But that afar from us 

Veriest reason may drive such life away, 

Much yet remains to be embellished yet 

In polished verses, albeit hath issued forth 

So much from me already; lo, there is 

The law and aspect of the sky to be 

By reason grasped; there are the tempest times 

And the bright lightnings to be hymned now 

Even what they do and from what cause soe'er 

They're borne along that thou mayst tremble not, 

Marking off regions of prophetic skies 

For auguries, O foolishly distraught, 

Even as to whence the flying flame hath come, 

Or to which half of heaven it turns, or how 

Through walled places it hath wound its way, 

Or, after proving its dominion there, 

How it hath speeded forth from thence amain 

Whereof nowise the causes do men know, 

And think divinities are working there. 

Do thou, Calliope, ingenious Muse, 

Solace of mortals and delight of gods, 

Point out the course before me, as I race 

On to the white line of the utmost goal, 


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That I may get with signal praise the crown, 

With thee my guide! 

Great Meteorological Phenomena, Etc

And so in first place, then 

With thunder are shaken the blue deeps of heaven, 

Because the ethereal clouds, scudding aloft, 

Together clash, what time 'gainst one another 

The winds are battling. For never a sound there come 

From out the serene regions of the sky; 

But wheresoever in a host more dense 

The clouds foregather, thence more often comes 

A crash with mighty rumbling. And, again, 

Clouds cannot be of so condensed a frame 

As stones and timbers, nor again so fine 

As mists and flying smoke; for then perforce 

They'd either fall, borne down by their brute weight, 

Like stones, or, like the smoke, they'd powerless be 

To keep their mass, or to retain within 

Frore snows and storms of hail. And they give forth 

O'er skiey levels of the spreading world 

A sound on high, as linenawning, stretched 

O'er mighty theatres, gives forth at times 

A cracking roar, when much 'tis beaten about 

Betwixt the poles and crossbeams. Sometimes, too, 

Asunder rent by wanton gusts, it raves 

And imitates the tearing sound of sheets 

Of paper even this kind of noise thou mayst 

In thunder hear or sound as when winds whirl 

With lashings and do buffet about in air 

A hanging cloth and flying papersheets. 

For sometimes, too, it chances that the clouds 

Cannot together crash headon, but rather 

Move sidewise and with motions contrary 

Graze each the other's body without speed, 

From whence that dry sound grateth on our ears, 

So long drawnout, until the clouds have passed 

From out their close positions. 

And, again, 

In following wise all things seem oft to quake 

At shock of heavy thunder, and mightiest walls 

Of the wide reaches of the upper world 

There on the instant to have sprung apart, 

Riven asunder, what time a gathered blast 

Of the fierce hurricane hath all at once 

Twisted its way into a mass of clouds, 

And, there enclosed, ever more and more 

Compelleth by its spinning whirl the cloud 

To grow all hollow with a thickened crust 

Surrounding; for thereafter, when the force 

And the keen onset of the wind have weakened 

That crust, lo, then the cloud, tosplit in twain, 

Gives forth a hideous crash with bang and boom. 

No marvel this; since oft a bladder small, 

Filled up with air, will, when of sudden burst, 

Give forth a like large sound. 

There's reason, too, 

Why clouds make sounds, as through them blow the winds: 


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We see, borne down the sky, oft shapes of clouds 

Roughedged or branched many forky ways; 

And 'tis the same, as when the sudden flaws 

Of northwest wind through the dense forest blow, 

Making the leaves to sough and limbs to crash. 

It happens too at times that roused force 

Of the fierce hurricane torends the cloud, 

Breaking right through it by a front assault; 

For what a blast of wind may do up there 

Is manifest from facts when here on earth 

A blast more gentle yet uptwists tall trees 

And sucks them madly from their deepest roots. 

Besides, among the clouds are waves, and these 

Give, as they roughly break, a rumbling roar; 

As when along deep streams or the great sea 

Breaks the loud surf. It happens, too, whenever 

Out from one cloud into another falls 

The fiery energy of thunderbolt, 

That straightaway the cloud, if full of wet, 

Extinguishes the fire with mighty noise; 

As iron, white from the hot furnaces, 

Sizzles, when speedily we've plunged its glow 

Down the cold water. Further, if a cloud 

More dry receive the fire, 'twill suddenly 

Kindle to flame and burn with monstrous sound, 

As if a flame with whirl of winds should range 

Along the laureltressed mountains far, 

Upburning with its vast assault those trees; 

Nor is there aught that in the crackling flame 

Consumes with sound more terrible to man 

Than Delphic laurel of Apollo lord. 

Oft, too, the multitudinous crash of ice 

And downpour of swift hail gives forth a sound 

Among the mighty clouds on high; for when 

The wind hath packed them close, each mountain mass 

Of raincloud, there congealed utterly 

And mixed with hailstones, breaks and booms... 

Likewise, it lightens, when the clouds have struck, 

By their collision, forth the seeds of fire: 

As if a stone should smite a stone or steel, 

For light then too leaps forth and fire then scatters 

The shining sparks. But with our ears we get 

The thunder after eyes behold the flash, 

Because forever things arrive the ears 

More tardily than the eyes as thou mayst see 

From this example too: when markest thou 

Some man far yonder felling a great tree 

With doubleedged ax, it comes to pass 

Thine eye beholds the swinging stroke before 

The blow gives forth a sound athrough thine ears: 

Thus also we behold the flashing ere 

We hear the thunder, which discharged is 

At same time with the fire and by same cause, 

Born of the same collision. 

In following wise 

The clouds suffuse with leaping light the lands, 

And the storm flashes with tremulous elan: 

When the wind hath invaded a cloud, and, whirling there,

Hath wrought (as I have shown above) the cloud 

Into a hollow with a thickened crust, 


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It becomes hot of own velocity: 

Just as thou seest how motion will o'erheat 

And set ablaze all objects verily 

A leaden ball, hurtling through length of space, 

Even melts. Therefore, when this same wind afire 

Hath split black cloud, it scatters the fireseeds, 

Which, so to say, have been pressed out by force 

Of sudden from the cloud and these do make 

The pulsing flashes of flame; thence followeth 

The detonation which attacks our ears 

More tardily than aught which comes along 

Unto the sight of eyeballs. This takes place 

As know thou mayst at times when clouds are dense 

And one upon the other piled aloft 

With wonderful upheavings nor be thou 

Deceived because we see how broad their base 

From underneath, and not how high they tower. 

For make thine observations at a time 

When winds shall bear athwart the horizon's blue 

Clouds like to mountainranges moving on, 

Or when about the sides of mighty peaks 

Thou seest them one upon the other massed 

And burdening downward, anchored in high repose, 

With the winds sepulchred on all sides round: 

Then canst thou know their mighty masses, then 

Canst view their caverns, as if builded there 

Of beetling crags; which, when the hurricanes 

In gathered storm have filled utterly, 

Then, prisoned in clouds, they rave around 

With mighty roarings, and within those dens 

Bluster like savage beasts, and now from here, 

And now from there, send growlings through the clouds, 

And seeking an outlet, whirl themselves about, 

And roll from 'mid the clouds the seeds of fire, 

And heap them multitudinously there, 

And in the hollow furnaces within 

Wheel flame around, until from bursted cloud 

In forky flashes they have gleamed forth. 

Again, from following cause it comes to pass 

That yon swift golden hue of liquid fire 

Darts downward to the earth: because the clouds 

Themselves must hold abundant seeds of fire; 

For, when they be without all moisture, then 

They be for most part of a flamy hue 

And a resplendent. And, indeed, they must 

Even from the light of sun unto themselves 

Take multitudinous seeds, and so perforce 

Redden and pour their bright fires all abroad. 

And therefore, when the wind hath driven and thrust, 

Hath forced and squeezed into one spot these clouds, 

They pour abroad the seeds of fire pressed out, 

Which make to flash these colours of the flame. 

Likewise, it lightens also when the clouds 

Grow rare and thin along the sky; for, when 

The wind with gentle touch unravels them 

And breaketh asunder as they move, those seeds 

Which make the lightnings must by nature fall; 

At such an hour the horizon lightens round 

Without the hideous terror of dread noise 

And skiey uproar. 

To proceed apace, 


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What sort of nature thunderbolts posses 

Is by their strokes made manifest and by 

The brandmarks of their searing heat on things, 

And by the scorched scars exhaling round 

The heavy fumes of sulphur. For all these 

Are marks, O not of wind or rain, but fire. 

Again, they often enkindle even the roofs 

Of houses and inside the very rooms 

With swift flame hold a fierce dominion. 

Know thou that Nature fashioned this fire 

Subtler than fires all other, with minute 

And dartling bodies a fire 'gainst which there's naught

Can in the least hold out: the thunderbolt, 

The mighty, passes through the hedging walls 

Of houses, like to voices or a shout 

Through stones, through bronze it passes, and it melts 

Upon the instant bronze and gold; and makes, 

Likewise, the wines sudden to vanish forth, 

The winejars intact because, ye see, 

Its heat arriving renders loose and porous 

Readily all the wine jar's earthen sides, 

And winding its way within, it scattereth 

The elements primordial of the wine 

With speedy dissolution process which 

Even in an age the fiery steam of sun 

Could not accomplish, however puissant he 

With his hot coruscations: so much more 

Agile and overpowering is this force. 

Now in what manner engendered are these things, 

How fashioned of such impetuous strength 

As to cleave towers asunder, and houses all 

To overtopple, and to wrench apart 

Timbers and beams, and heroes' monuments 

To pile in ruins and upheave amain, 

And to take breath forever out of men, 

And to o'erthrow the cattle everywhere, 

Yes, by what force the lightnings do all this, 

All this and more, I will unfold to thee, 

Nor longer keep thee in mere promises. 

The bolts of thunder, then, must be conceived 

As all begotten in those crasser clouds 

Uppiled aloft; for, from the sky serene 

And from the clouds of lighter density, 

None are sent forth forever. That 'tis so 

Beyond a doubt, fact plain to sense declares: 

To wit, at such a time the densed clouds 

So mass themselves through all the upper air 

That we might think that round about all murk 

Had parted forth from Acheron and filled 

The mighty vaults of sky so grievously, 

As gathers thus the stormclouds' gruesome might, 

Do faces of black horror hang on high 

When tempest begins its thunderbolts to forge. 

Besides, full often also out at sea 

A blackest thunderhead, like cataract 

Of pitch hurled down from heaven, and far away 

Bulging with murkiness, down on the waves 

Falls with vast uproar, and draws on amain 

The darkling tempests big with thunderbolts 


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And hurricanes, itself the while so crammed 

Tremendously with fires and winds, that even 

Back on the lands the people shudder round 

And seek for cover. Therefore, as I said, 

The storm must be conceived as o'er our head 

Towering most high; for never would the clouds 

O'erwhelm the lands with such a massy dark, 

Unless upbuilded heap on lofty heap, 

To shut the round sun off. Nor could the clouds, 

As on they come, engulf with rain so vast 

As thus to make the rivers overflow 

And fields to float, if ether were not thus 

Furnished with loftypiled clouds. Lo, then, 

Here be all things fulfilled with winds and fires 

Hence the long lightnings and the thunders loud. 

For, verily, I've taught thee even now 

How cavernous clouds hold seeds innumerable 

Of fiery exhalations, and they must 

From off the sunbeams and the heat of these 

Take many still. And so, when that same wind 

(Which, haply, into one region of the sky 

Collects those clouds) hath pressed from out the same 

The many fiery seeds, and with that fire 

Hath at the same time intermixed itself, 

O then and there that wind, a whirlwind now, 

Deep in the belly of the cloud spins round 

In narrow confines, and sharpens there inside 

In glowing furnaces the thunderbolt. 

For in a twofold manner is that wind 

Enkindled all: it trembles into heat 

Both by its own velocity and by 

Repeated touch of fire. Thereafter, when 

The energy of wind is heated through 

And the fierce impulse of the fire hath sped 

Deeply within, O then the thunderbolt, 

Now ripened, so to say, doth suddenly 

Splinter the cloud, and the aroused flash 

Leaps onward, lumining with forky light 

All places round. And followeth anon 

A clap so heavy that the skiey vaults, 

As if asunder burst, seem from on high 

To engulf the earth. Then fearfully a quake 

Pervades the lands, and 'long the lofty skies 

Run the far rumblings. For at such a time 

Nigh the whole tempest quakes, shook through and through,

And roused are the roarings from which shock 

Comes such resounding and abounding rain, 

That all the murky ether seems to turn 

Now into rain, and, as it tumbles down, 

To summon the fields back to primeval floods: 

So big the rains that be sent down on men 

By burst of cloud and by the hurricane, 

What time the thunderclap, from burning bolt 

That cracks the cloud, flies forth along. At times 

The force of wind, excited from without, 

Smiteth into a cloud already hot 

With a ripe thunderbolt. And when that wind 

Hath splintered that cloud, then down there cleaves forthwith

Yon fiery coil of flame which still we call, 

Even with our fathers' word, a thunderbolt. 


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The same thing haps toward every other side 

Whither that force hath swept. It happens, too, 

That sometimes force of wind, though hurtled forth 

Without all fire, yet in its voyage through space 

Igniteth, whilst it comes along, along 

Losing some larger bodies which cannot 

Pass, like the others, through the bulks of air 

And, scraping together out of air itself 

Some smaller bodies, carries them along, 

And these, commingling, by their flight make fire: 

Much in the manner as oft a leaden ball 

Grows hot upon its aery course, the while 

It loseth many bodies of stark cold 

And taketh into itself along the air 

New particles of fire. It happens, too, 

That force of blow itself arouses fire, 

When force of wind, acold and hurtled forth 

Without all fire, hath strook somewhere amain 

No marvel, because, when with terrific stroke 

'Thas smitten, the elements of fierystuff 

Can stream together from out the very wind 

And, simultaneously, from out that thing 

Which then and there receives the stroke: as flies 

The fire when with the steel we hack the stone; 

Nor yet, because the force of steel's acold, 

Rush the less speedily together there 

Under the stroke its seeds of radiance hot. 

And therefore, thuswise must an object too 

Be kindled by a thunderbolt, if haply 

'Thas been adapt and suited to the flames. 

Yet force of wind must not be rashly deemed 

As altogether and entirely cold 

That force which is discharged from on high 

With such stupendous power; but if 'tis not 

Upon its course already kindled with fire, 

It yet arriveth warmed and mixed with heat. 

And, now, the speed and stroke of thunderbolt 

Is so tremendous, and with glide so swift 

Those thunderbolts rush on and down, because 

Their roused force itself collects itself 

First always in the clouds, and then prepares 

For the huge effort of their goingforth; 

Next, when the cloud no longer can retain 

The increment of their fierce impetus, 

Their force is pressed out, and therefore flies 

With impetus so wondrous, like to shots 

Hurled from the powerful Roman catapults. 

Note, too, this force consists of elements 

Both small and smooth, nor is there aught that can 

With ease resist such nature. For it darts 

Between and enters through the pores of things; 

And so it never falters in delay 

Despite innumerable collisions, but 

Flies shooting onward with a swift elan. 

Next, since by nature always every weight 

Bears downward, doubled is the swiftness then 

And that elan is still more wild and dread, 

When, verily, to weight are added blows, 

So that more madly and more fiercely then 

The thunderbolt shakes into shivers all 

That blocks its path, following on its way. 


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Then, too, because it comes along, along 

With one continuing elan, it must 

Take on velocity anew, anew, 

Which still increases as it goes, and ever 

Augments the bolt's vast powers and to the blow 

Gives larger vigour; for it forces all, 

All of the thunder's seeds of fire, to sweep 

In a straight line unto one place, as 'twere, 

Casting them one by other, as they roll, 

Into that onward course. Again, perchance, 

In coming along, it pulls from out the air 

Some certain bodies, which by their own blows 

Enkindle its velocity. And, lo, 

It comes through objects leaving them unharmed, 

It goes through many things and leaves them whole, 

Because the liquid fire flieth along 

Athrough their pores. And much it does transfix, 

When these primordial atoms of the bolt 

Have fallen upon the atoms of these things 

Precisely where the intertwined atoms 

Are held together. And, further, easily 

Brass it unbinds and quickly fuseth gold, 

Because its force is so minutely made 

Of tiny parts and elements so smooth 

That easily they wind their way within, 

And, when once in, quickly unbind all knots 

And loosen all the bonds of union there. 

And most in autumn is shaken the house of heaven, 

The house so studded with the glittering stars, 

And the whole earth around most too in spring 

When flowery times unfold themselves: for, lo, 

In the cold season is there lack of fire, 

And winds are scanty in the hot, and clouds 

Have not so dense a bulk. But when, indeed, 

The seasons of heaven are betwixt these twain, 

The divers causes of the thunderbolt 

Then all concur; for then both cold and heat 

Are mixed in the crossseas of the year, 

So that a discord rises among things 

And air in vast tumultuosity 

Billows, infuriate with the fires and winds 

Of which the both are needed by the cloud 

For fabrication of the thunderbolt. 

For the first part of heat and last of cold 

Is the time of spring; wherefore must things unlike 

Do battle one with other, and, when mixed, 

Tumultuously rage. And when rolls round 

The latest heat mixed with the earliest chill 

The time which bears the name of autumn then 

Likewise fierce coldspells wrestle with fierce heats. 

On this account these seasons of the year 

Are nominated "crossseas." And no marvel 

If in those times the thunderbolts prevail 

And storms are roused turbulent in heaven, 

Since then both sides in dubious warfare rage 

Tumultuously, the one with flames, the other 

With winds and with waters mixed with winds. 

This, this it is, O Memmius, to see through 

The very nature of firefraught thunderbolt; 

O this it is to mark by what blind force 


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It maketh each effect, and not, O not 

To unwind Etrurian scrolls oracular, 

Inquiring tokens of occult will of gods, 

Even as to whence the flying flame hath come, 

Or to which half of heaven it turns, or how 

Through walled places it hath wound its way, 

Or, after proving its dominion there, 

How it hath speeded forth from thence amain, 

Or what the thunderstroke portends of ill 

From out high heaven. But if Jupiter 

And other gods shake those refulgent vaults 

With dread reverberations and hurl fire 

Whither it pleases each, why smite they not 

Mortals of reckless and revolting crimes, 

That such may pant from a transpierced breast 

Forth flames of the red levin unto men 

A drastic lesson? why is rather he 

O he selfconscious of no foul offence 

Involved in flames, though innocent, and clasped 

Upcaught in skiey whirlwind and in fire? 

Nay, why, then, aim they at eternal wastes, 

And spend themselves in vain? perchance, even so 

To exercise their arms and strengthen shoulders? 

Why suffer they the Father's javelin 

To be so blunted on the earth? And why 

Doth he himself allow it, nor spare the same 

Even for his enemies? O why most oft 

Aims he at lofty places? Why behold we 

Marks of his lightnings most on mountain tops? 

Then for what reason shoots he at the sea? 

What sacrilege have waves and bulk of brine 

And floating fields of foam been guilty of? 

Besides, if 'tis his will that we beware 

Against the lightningstroke, why feareth he 

To grant us power for to behold the shot? 

And, contrariwise, if wills he to o'erwhelm us, 

Quite off our guard, with fire, why thunders he 

Off in yon quarter, so that we may shun? 

Why rouseth he beforehand darkling air 

And the far din and rumblings? And O how 

Canst thou believe he shoots at one same time 

Into diverse directions? Or darest thou 

Contend that never hath it come to pass 

That divers strokes have happened at one time? 

But oft and often hath it come to pass, 

And often still it must, that, even as showers 

And rains o'er many regions fall, so too 

Dart many thunderbolts at one same time. 

Again, why never hurtles Jupiter 

A bolt upon the lands nor pours abroad 

Clap upon clap, when skies are cloudless all? 

Or, say, doth he, so soon as ever the clouds 

Have come thereunder, then into the same 

Descend in person, and that from thence he may 

Nearby decide upon the stroke of shaft? 

And, lastly, why, with devastating bolt 

Shakes he asunder holy shrines of gods 

And his own thrones of splendour, and tobreaks 

The wellwrought idols of divinities, 

And robs of glory his own images 

By wound of violence? 

But to return apace, 


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Easy it is from these same facts to know 

In just what wise those things (which from their sort 

The Greeks have named "bellows") do come down, 

Discharged from on high, upon the seas. 

For it haps that sometimes from the sky descends 

Upon the seas a column, as if pushed, 

Round which the surges seethe, tremendously 

Aroused by puffing gusts; and whatso'er 

Of ships are caught within that tumult then 

Come into extreme peril, dashed along. 

This haps when sometimes wind's aroused force 

Can't burst the cloud it tries to, but downweighs 

That cloud, until 'tis like a column from sky 

Upon the seas pushed downward gradually, 

As if a Somewhat from on high were shoved 

By fist and nether thrust of arm, and lengthened 

Far to the waves. And when the force of wind 

Hath rived this cloud, from out the cloud it rushes 

Down on the seas, and starts among the waves 

A wondrous seething, for the eddying whirl 

Descends and downward draws along with it 

That cloud of ductile body. And soon as ever 

'Thas shoved unto the levels of the main 

That laden cloud, the whirl suddenly then 

Plunges its whole self into the waters there 

And rouses all the sea with monstrous roar, 

Constraining it to seethe. It happens too 

That very vortex of the wind involves 

Itself in clouds, scraping from out the air 

The seeds of cloud, and counterfeits, as 'twere, 

The "bellows" pushed from heaven. And when this shape 

Hath dropped upon the lands and burst apart, 

It belches forth immeasurable might 

Of whirlwind and of blast. Yet since 'tis formed 

At most but rarely, and on land the hills 

Must block its way, 'tis seen more oft out there 

On the broad prospect of the level main 

Along the free horizons. 

Into being 

The clouds condense, when in this upper space 

Of the high heaven have gathered suddenly, 

As round they flew, unnumbered particles 

World's rougher ones, which can, though interlinked 

With scanty couplings, yet be fastened firm, 

The one on other caught. These particles 

First cause small clouds to form; and, thereupon, 

These catch the one on other and swarm in a flock 

And grow by their conjoining, and by winds 

Are borne along, along, until collects 

The tempest fury. Happens, too, the nearer 

The mountain summits neighbour to the sky, 

The more unceasingly their far crags smoke 

With the thick darkness of swart cloud, because 

When first the mists do form, ere ever the eyes 

Can there behold them (tenuous as they be), 

The carrierwinds will drive them up and on 

Unto the topmost summits of the mountain; 

And then at last it happens, when they be 

In vaster throng upgathered, that they can 

By this very condensation lie revealed, 

And that at same time they are seen to surge 

From very vertex of the mountain up 


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Into far ether. For very fact and feeling, 

As we upclimb high mountains, proveth clear 

That windy are those upward regions free. 

Besides, the clothes hungout along the shore, 

When in they take the clinging moisture, prove 

That Nature lifts from over all the sea 

Unnumbered particles. Whereby the more 

'Tis manifest that many particles 

Even from the salt upheavings of the main 

Can rise together to augment the bulk 

Of massed clouds. For moistures in these twain 

Are near akin. Besides, from out all rivers, 

As well as from the land itself, we see 

Uprising mists and steam, which like a breath 

Are forced out from them and borne aloft, 

To curtain heaven with their murk, and make, 

By slow foregathering, the skiey clouds. 

For, in addition, lo, the heat on high 

Of constellated ether burdens down 

Upon them, and by sort of condensation 

Weaveth beneath the azure firmament 

The reek of darkling cloud. It happens, too, 

That hither to the skies from the Beyond 

Do come those particles which make the clouds 

And flying thunderheads. For I have taught 

That this their number is innumerable 

And infinite the sum of the Abyss, 

And I have shown with what stupendous speed 

Those bodies fly and how they're wont to pass 

Amain through incommunicable space. 

Therefore, 'tis not exceeding strange, if oft 

In little time tempest and darkness cover 

With bulking thunderheads hanging on high 

The oceans and the lands, since everywhere 

Through all the narrow tubes of yonder ether, 

Yea, so to speak, through all the breathingholes 

Of the great upperworld encompassing, 

There be for the primordial elements 

Exits and entrances. 

Now come, and how 

The rainy moisture thickens into being 

In the lofty clouds, and how upon the lands 

'Tis then discharged in downpour of large showers, 

I will unfold. And first triumphantly 

Will I persuade thee that uprise together, 

With clouds themselves, full many seeds of water 

From out all things, and that they both increase 

Both clouds and water which is in the clouds 

In like proportion, as our frames increase 

In like proportion with our blood, as well 

As sweat or any moisture in our members. 

Besides, the clouds take in from time to time 

Much moisture risen from the broad marine, 

Whilst the winds bear them o'er the mighty sea, 

Like hanging fleeces of white wool. Thuswise, 

Even from all rivers is there lifted up 

Moisture into the clouds. And when therein 

The seeds of water so many in many ways 

Have come together, augmented from all sides, 

The closejammed clouds then struggle to discharge 

Their rainstorms for a twofold reason: lo, 

The wind's force crowds them, and the very excess 


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Of stormclouds (massed in a vaster throng) 

Giveth an urge and pressure from above 

And makes the rains outpour. Besides when, too, 

The clouds are winnowed by the winds, or scattered 

Smitten on top by heat of sun, they send 

Their rainy moisture, and distil their drops, 

Even as the wax, by fiery warmth on top, 

Wasteth and liquefies abundantly. 

But comes the violence of the bigger rains 

When violently the clouds are weighted down 

Both by their cumulated mass and by 

The onset of the wind. And rains are wont 

To endure awhile and to abide for long, 

When many seeds of waters are aroused, 

And clouds on clouds and racks on racks outstream 

In piled layers and are borne along 

From every quarter, and when all the earth 

Smoking exhales her moisture. At such a time 

When sun with beams amid the tempestmurk 

Hath shone against the showers of black rains, 

Then in the swart clouds there emerges bright 

The radiance of the bow. 

And as to things 

Not mentioned here which of themselves do grow 

Or of themselves are gendered, and all things 

Which in the clouds condense to being all, 

Snow and the winds, hail and the hoarfrosts chill, 

And freezing, mighty force of lakes and pools 

The mighty hardener, and mighty check 

Which in the winter curbeth everywhere 

The rivers as they go 'tis easy still, 

Soon to discover and with mind to see 

How they all happen, whereby gendered, 

When once thou well hast understood just what 

Functions have been vouchsafed from of old 

Unto the procreant atoms of the world. 

Now come, and what the law of earthquakes is 

Hearken, and first of all take care to know 

That the underearth, like to the earth around us, 

Is full of windy caverns all about; 

And many a pool and many a grim abyss 

She bears within her bosom, ay, and cliffs 

And jagged scarps; and many a river, hid 

Beneath her chine, rolls rapidly along 

Its billows and plunging boulders. For clear fact 

Requires that earth must be in every part 

Alike in constitution. Therefore, earth, 

With these things underneath affixed and set, 

Trembleth above, jarred by big downtumblings, 

When time hath undermined the huge caves, 

The subterranean. Yea, whole mountains fall, 

And instantly from spot of that big jar 

There quiver the tremors far and wide abroad. 

And with good reason: since houses on the street 

Begin to quake throughout, when jarred by a cart 

Of no large weight; and, too, the furniture 

Within the house upbounds, when a pavingblock 

Gives either iron rim of the wheels a jolt. 

It happens, too, when some prodigious bulk 

Of ageworn soil is rolled from mountain slopes 

Into tremendous pools of water dark, 

That the reeling land itself is rocked about 


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By the water's undulations; as a basin 

Sometimes won't come to rest until the fluid 

Within it ceases to be rocked about 

In random undulations. 

And besides, 

When subterranean winds, upgathered there 

In the hollow deeps, bulk forward from one spot, 

And press with the big urge of mighty powers 

Against the lofty grottos, then the earth 

Bulks to that quarter whither push amain 

The headlong winds. Then all the builded houses 

Above ground and the more, the higher upreared 

Unto the sky lean ominously, careening 

Into the same direction; and the beams, 

Wrenched forward, overhang, ready to go. 

Yet dread men to believe that there awaits 

The nature of the mighty world a time 

Of doom and cataclysm, albeit they see 

So great a bulk of lands to bulge and break! 

And lest the winds blew back again, no force 

Could rein things in nor hold from sure career 

On to disaster. But now because those winds 

Blow back and forth in alternation strong, 

And, so to say, rallying charge again, 

And then repulsed retreat, on this account 

Earth oftener threatens than she brings to pass 

Collapses dire. For to one side she leans, 

Then back she sways; and after tottering 

Forward, recovers then her seats of poise. 

Thus, this is why whole houses rock, the roofs 

More than the middle stories, middle more 

Than lowest, and the lowest least of all. 

Arises, too, this same great earthquaking, 

When wind and some prodigious force of air, 

Collected from without or down within 

The old telluric deeps, have hurled themselves 

Amain into those caverns subterrene, 

And there at first tumultuously chafe 

Among the vasty grottos, borne about 

In mad rotations, till their lashed force 

Aroused outbursts abroad, and then and there, 

Riving the deep earth, makes a mighty chasm 

What once in Syrian Sidon did befall, 

And once in Peloponnesian Aegium, 

Twain cities which such outbreak of wild air 

And earth's convulsion, following hard upon, 

O'erthrew of old. And many a walled town, 

Besides, hath fall'n by such omnipotent 

Convulsions on the land, and in the sea 

Engulfed hath sunken many a city down 

With all its populace. But if, indeed, 

They burst not forth, yet is the very rush 

Of the wild air and furyforce of wind 

Then dissipated, like an aguefit, 

Through the innumerable pores of earth, 

To set her all ashake even as a chill, 

When it hath gone into our marrowbones, 

Sets us convulsively, despite ourselves, 

Ashivering and ashaking. Therefore, men 

With twofold terror bustle in alarm 

Through cities to and fro: they fear the roofs 


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Above the head; and underfoot they dread 

The caverns, lest the nature of the earth 

Suddenly rend them open, and she gape, 

Herself asunder, with tremendous maw, 

And, all confounded, seek to chock it full 

With her own ruins. Let men, then, go on 

Feigning at will that heaven and earth shall be 

Inviolable, entrusted evermore 

To an eternal weal: and yet at times 

The very force of danger here at hand 

Prods them on some side with this goad of fear 

This among others that the earth, withdrawn 

Abruptly from under their feet, be hurried down, 

Down into the abyss, and the SumofThings 

Be following after, utterly fordone, 

Till be but wrack and wreckage of a world. 

Extraordinary and Paradoxical Telluric Phenomena

In chief, men marvel Nature renders not 

Bigger and bigger the bulk of ocean, since 

So vast the downrush of the waters be, 

And every river out of every realm 

Cometh thereto; and add the random rains 

And flying tempests, which spatter every sea 

And every land bedew; add their own springs: 

Yet all of these unto the ocean's sum 

Shall be but as the increase of a drop. 

Wherefore 'tis less a marvel that the sea, 

The mighty ocean, increaseth not. Besides, 

Sun with his heat draws off a mighty part: 

Yea, we behold that sun with burning beams 

To dry our garments dripping all with wet; 

And many a sea, and far outspread beneath, 

Do we behold. Therefore, however slight 

The portion of wet that sun on any spot 

Culls from the level main, he still will take 

From off the waves in such a wide expanse 

Abundantly. Then, further, also winds, 

Sweeping the level waters, can bear off 

A mighty part of wet, since we behold 

Oft in a single night the highways dried 

By winds, and soft mud crusted o'er at dawn. 

Again, I've taught thee that the clouds bear off 

Much moisture too, uptaken from the reaches 

Of the mighty main, and sprinkle it about 

O'er all the zones, when rain is on the lands 

And winds convey the aery racks of vapour. 

Lastly, since earth is porous through her frame, 

And neighbours on the seas, girdling their shores, 

The water's wet must seep into the lands 

From briny ocean, as from lands it comes 

Into the seas. For brine is filtered off, 

And then the liquid stuff seeps back again 

And all repoureth at the riverheads, 

Whence in freshwater currents it returns 

Over the lands, adown the channels which 

Were cleft erstwhile and erstwhile bore along 


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The liquidfooted floods. 

And now the cause 

Whereby athrough the throat of Aetna's Mount 

Such vast tornadofires outbreathe at times, 

I will unfold: for with no middling might 

Of devastation the flamy tempest rose 

And held dominion in Sicilian fields: 

Drawing upon itself the upturned faces 

Of neighbouring clans, what time they saw afar 

The skiey vaults afume and sparkling all, 

And filled their bosoms with dread anxiety 

Of what new thing Nature were travailing at. 

In these affairs it much behooveth thee 

To look both wide and deep, and far abroad 

To peer to every quarter, that thou mayst 

Remember how boundless is the SumofThings, 

And mark how infinitely small a part 

Of the whole Sum is this one sky of ours 

O not so large a part as is one man 

Of the whole earth. And plainly if thou viewest 

This cosmic fact, placing it square in front, 

And plainly understandest, thou wilt leave 

Wondering at many things. For who of us 

Wondereth if some one gets into his joints 

A fever, gathering head with fiery heat, 

Or any other dolorous disease 

Along his members? For anon the foot 

Grows blue and bulbous; often the sharp twinge 

Seizes the teeth, attacks the very eyes; 

Outbreaks the sacred fire, and, crawling on 

Over the body, burneth every part 

It seizeth on, and works its hideous way 

Along the frame. No marvel this, since, lo, 

Of things innumerable be seeds enough, 

And this our earth and sky do bring to us 

Enough of bane from whence can grow the strength 

Of maladies uncounted. Thuswise, then, 

We must suppose to all the sky and earth 

Are ever supplied from out the infinite 

All things, O all in stores enough whereby 

The shaken earth can of a sudden move, 

And fierce typhoons can over sea and lands 

Go tearing on, and Aetna's fires o'erflow, 

And heaven become a flameburst. For that, too, 

Happens at times, and the celestial vaults 

Glow into fire, and rainy tempests rise 

In heavier congregation, when, percase, 

The seeds of water have foregathered thus 

From out the infinite. "Aye, but passing huge 

The fiery turmoil of that conflagration!" 

So sayst thou; well, huge many a river seems 

To him that erstwhile ne'er a larger saw; 

Thus, huge seems tree or man; and everything 

Which mortal sees the biggest of each class, 

That he imagines to be "huge"; though yet 

All these, with sky and land and sea to boot, 

Are all as nothing to the sum entire 

Of the allSum. 

But now I will unfold 

At last how yonder suddenly angered flame 

Outblows abroad from vasty furnaces 


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Aetnaean. First, the mountain's nature is 

All underhollow, propped about, about 

With caverns of basaltic piers. And, lo, 

In all its grottos be there wind and air 

For wind is made when air hath been uproused 

By violent agitation. When this air 

Is heated through and through, and, raging round, 

Hath made the earth and all the rocks it touches 

Horribly hot, and hath struck off from them 

Fierce fire of swiftest flame, it lifts itself 

And hurtles thus straight upwards through its throat 

Into high heav'n, and thus bears on afar 

Its burning blasts and scattereth afar 

Its ashes, and rolls a smoke of pitchy murk 

And heaveth the while boulders of wondrous weight 

Leaving no doubt in thee that 'tis the air's 

Tumultuous power. Besides, in mighty part, 

The sea there at the roots of that same mount 

Breaks its old billows and sucks back its surf. 

And grottos from the sea pass in below 

Even to the bottom of the mountain's throat. 

Herethrough thou must admit there go... 

And the conditions force the water and air 

Deeply to penetrate from the open sea, 

And to outblow abroad, and to upbear 

Thereby the flame, and to upcast from deeps 

The boulders, and to rear the clouds of sand. 

For at the top be "bowls," as people there 

Are wont to name what we at Rome do call 

The throats and mouths. 

There be, besides, some thing 

Of which 'tis not enough one only cause 

To state but rather several, whereof one 

Will be the true: lo, if thou shouldst espy 

Lying afar some fellow's lifeless corse, 

'Twere meet to name all causes of a death, 

That cause of his death might thereby be named: 

For prove thou mayst he perished not by steel, 

By cold, nor even by poison nor disease, 

Yet somewhat of this sort hath come to him 

We know And thus we have to say the same 

In divers cases. 

Toward the summer, Nile 

Waxeth and overfloweth the champaign, 

Unique in all the landscape, river sole 

Of the Aegyptians. In midseason heats 

Often and oft he waters Aegypt o'er, 

Either because in summer against his mouths 

Come those north winds which at that time of year 

Men name the Etesian blasts, and, blowing thus 

Upstream, retard, and, forcing back his waves, 

Fill him o'erfull and force his flow to stop. 

For out of doubt these blasts which driven be 

From icy constellations of the pole 

Are borne straight up the river. Comes that river 

From forth the sultry places down the south, 

Rising far up in midmost realm of day, 

Among black generations of strong men 

With sunbaked skins. 'Tis possible, besides, 

That a big bulk of piled sand may bar 

His mouths against his onward waves, when sea, 


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Wild in the winds, tumbles the sand to inland; 

Whereby the river's outlet were less free, 

Likewise less headlong his descending floods. 

It may be, too, that in this season rains 

Are more abundant at its fountain head, 

Because the Etesian blasts of those north winds 

Then urge all clouds into those inland parts. 

And, soothly, when they're thus foregathered there. 

Urged yonder into midmost realm of day, 

Then, crowded against the lofty mountain sides, 

They're massed and powerfully pressed. Again, 

Perchance, his waters wax, O far away, 

Among the Aethiopians' lofty mountains, 

When the allbeholding sun with thawing beams 

Drives the white snows to flow into the vales. 

Now come; and unto thee I will unfold, 

As to the Birdless spots and Birdless tarns, 

What sort of nature they are furnished with. 

First, as to name of "birdless," that derives 

From very fact, because they noxious be 

Unto all birds. For when above those spots 

In horizontal flight the birds have come, 

Forgetting to oar with wings, they furl their sails, 

And, with downdrooping of their delicate necks, 

Fall headlong into earth, if haply such 

The nature of the spots, or into water, 

If haply spreads there under Birdless tarn. 

Such spot's at Cumae, where the mountains smoke, 

Charged with the pungent sulphur, and increased 

With steaming springs. And such a spot there is 

Within the walls of Athens, even there 

On summit of Acropolis, beside 

Fane of Tritonian Pallas bountiful, 

Where never cawing crows can wing their course, 

Not even when smoke the altars with good gifts 

But evermore they flee yet not from wrath 

Of Pallas, grieved at that espial old, 

As poets of the Greeks have sung the tale; 

But very nature of the place compels. 

In Syria also as men say a spot 

Is to be seen, where also fourfoot kinds, 

As soon as ever they've set their steps within, 

Collapse, o'ercome by its essential power, 

As if there slaughtered to the undergods. 

Lo, all these wonders work by natural law, 

And from what causes they are brought to pass 

The origin is manifest; so, haply, 

Let none believe that in these regions stands 

The gate of Orcus, nor us then suppose, 

Haply, that thence the undergods draw down 

Souls to dark shores of Acheron as stags, 

The wingfooted, are thought to draw to light, 

By sniffing nostrils, from their dusky lairs 

The wriggling generations of wild snakes. 

How far removed from true reason is this, 

Perceive thou straight; for now I'll try to say 

Somewhat about the very fact. 

And, first, 

This do I say, as oft I've said before: 

In earth are atoms of things of every sort; 

And know, these all thus rise from out the earth 


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Many lifegiving which be good for food, 

And many which can generate disease 

And hasten death, O many primal seeds 

Of many things in many modes since earth 

Contains them mingled and gives forth discrete. 

And we have shown before that certain things 

Be unto certain creatures suited more 

For ends of life, by virtue of a nature, 

A texture, and primordial shapes, unlike 

For kinds alike. Then too 'tis thine to see 

How many things oppressive be and foul 

To man, and to sensation most malign: 

Many meander miserably through ears; 

Many inwind athrough the nostrils too, 

Malign and harsh when mortal draws a breath; 

Of not a few must one avoid the touch; 

Of not a few must one escape the sight; 

And some there be all loathsome to the taste; 

And many, besides, relax the languid limbs 

Along the frame, and undermine the soul 

In its abodes within. To certain trees 

There hath been given so dolorous a shade 

That often they gender achings of the head, 

If one but be beneath, outstretched on the sward. 

There is, again, on Helicon's high hills 

A tree that's wont to kill a man outright 

By fetid odour of its very flower. 

And when the pungent stench of the nightlamp, 

Extinguished but a moment since, assails 

The nostrils, then and there it puts to sleep 

A man afflicted with the falling sickness 

And foamings at the mouth. A woman, too, 

At the heavy castor drowses back in chair, 

And from her delicate fingers slips away 

Her gaudy handiwork, if haply she 

Hath got the whiff at menstruationtime. 

Once more, if thou delayest in hot baths, 

When thou art overfull, how readily 

From stool in middle of the steaming water 

Thou tumblest in a fit! How readily 

The heavy fumes of charcoal wind their way 

Into the brain, unless beforehand we 

Of water 've drunk. But when a burning fever, 

O'ermastering man, hath seized upon his limbs, 

Then odour of wine is like a hammerblow. 

And seest thou not how in the very earth 

Sulphur is gendered and bitumen thickens 

With noisome stench. What direful stenches, too, 

Scaptensula outbreathes from down below, 

When men pursue the veins of silver and gold, 

With pickaxe probing round the hidden realms 

Deep in the earth? Or what of deadly bane 

The mines of gold exhale? O what a look, 

And what a ghastly hue they give to men! 

And seest thou not, or hearest, how they're wont 

In little time to perish, and how fail 

The lifestores in those folk whom mighty power 

Of grim necessity confineth there 

In such a task? Thus, this telluric earth 

Outstreams with all these dread effluvia 

And breathes them out into the open world 

And into the visible regions under heaven. 


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Thus, too, those Birdless places must upsend 

An essence bearing death to winged things, 

Which from the earth rises into the breezes 

To poison part of skiey space, and when 

Thither the winged is on pennons borne, 

There, seized by the unseen poison, 'tis ensnared, 

And from the horizontal of its flight 

Drops to the spot whence sprang the effluvium. 

And when 'thas there collapsed, then the same power 

Of that effluvium takes from all its limbs 

The relics of its life. That power first strikes 

The creatures with a wildering dizziness, 

And then thereafter, when they're once downfallen 

Into the poison's very fountains, then 

Life, too, they vomit out perforce, because 

So thick the stores of bane around them fume. 

Again, at times it happens that this power, 

This exhalation of the Birdless places, 

Dispels the air betwixt the ground and birds, 

Leaving wellnigh a void. And thither when 

In horizontal flight the birds have come, 

Forthwith their buoyancy of pennons limps, 

All useless, and each effort of both wings 

Falls out in vain. Here, when without all power 

To buoy themselves and on their wings to lean, 

Lo, Nature constrains them by their weight to slip 

Down to the earth, and lying prostrate there 

Along the wellnigh empty void, they spend 

Their souls through all the openings of their frame. 

Further, the water of wells is colder then 

At summer time, because the earth by heat 

Is rarefied, and sends abroad in air 

Whatever seeds it peradventure have 

Of its own fiery exhalations. 

The more, then, the telluric ground is drained 

Of heat, the colder grows the water hid 

Within the earth. Further, when all the earth 

Is by the cold compressed, and thus contracts 

And, so to say, concretes, it happens, lo, 

That by contracting it expresses then 

Into the wells what heat it bears itself. 

'Tis said at Hammon's fane a fountain is, 

In daylight cold and hot in time of night. 

This fountain men bewonder overmuch, 

And think that suddenly it seethes in heat 

By intense sun, the subterranean, when 

Night with her terrible murk hath cloaked the lands 

What's not true reasoning by a long remove: 

I' faith when sun o'erhead, touching with beams 

An open body of water, had no power 

To render it hot upon its upper side, 

Though his high light possess such burning glare, 

How, then, can he, when under the gross earth, 

Make water boil and glut with fiery heat? 

And, specially, since scarcely potent he 

Through hedging walls of houses to inject 

His exhalations hot, with ardent rays. 

What, then, the principle? Why, this, indeed: 

The earth about that spring is porous more 


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Than elsewhere the telluric ground, and be 

Many the seeds of fire hard by the water; 

On this account, when night with dewfraught shades 

Hath whelmed the earth, anon the earth deep down 

Grows chill, contracts; and thuswise squeezes out 

Into the spring what seeds she holds of fire 

(As one might squeeze with fist), which render hot 

The touch and steam of the fluid. Next, when sun, 

Uprisen, with his rays has split the soil 

And rarefied the earth with waxing heat, 

Again into their ancient abodes return 

The seeds of fire, and all the Hot of water 

Into the earth retires; and this is why 

The fountain in the daylight gets so cold. 

Besides, the water's wet is beat upon 

By rays of sun, and, with the dawn, becomes 

Rarer in texture under his pulsing blaze; 

And, therefore, whatso seeds it holds of fire 

It renders up, even as it renders oft 

The frost that it contains within itself 

And thaws its ice and looseneth the knots. 

There is, moreover, a fountain cold in kind 

That makes a bit of tow (above it held) 

Take fire forthwith and shoot a flame; so, too, 

A pitchpine torch will kindle and flare round 

Along its waves, wherever 'tis impelled 

Afloat before the breeze. No marvel, this: 

Because full many seeds of heat there be 

Within the water; and, from earth itself 

Out of the deeps must particles of fire 

Athrough the entire fountain surge aloft, 

And speed in exhalations into air 

Forth and abroad (yet not in numbers enow 

As to make hot the fountain). And, moreo'er, 

Some force constrains them, scattered through the water,

Forthwith to burst abroad, and to combine 

In flame above. Even as a fountain far 

There is at Aradus amid the sea, 

Which bubbles out sweet water and disparts 

From round itself the salt waves; and, behold, 

In many another region the broad main 

Yields to the thirsty mariners timely help, 

Belching sweet waters forth amid salt waves. 

Just so, then, can those seeds of fire burst forth 

Athrough that other fount, and bubble out 

Abroad against the bit of tow; and when 

They there collect or cleave unto the torch, 

Forthwith they readily flash aflame, because 

The tow and torches, also, in themselves 

Have many seeds of latent fire. Indeed, 

And seest thou not, when near the nightly lamps 

Thou bringest a flaxen wick, extinguished 

A moment since, it catches fire before 

'Thas touched the flame, and in same wise a torch? 

And many another object flashes aflame 

When at a distance, touched by heat alone, 

Before 'tis steeped in veritable fire. 

This, then, we must suppose to come to pass 

In that spring also. 

Now to other things! 

And I'll begin to treat by what decree 


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Of Nature it came to pass that iron can be 

By that stone drawn which Greeks the magnet call 

After the country's name (its origin 

Being in country of Magnesian folk). 

This stone men marvel at; and sure it oft 

Maketh a chain of rings, depending, lo, 

From off itself! Nay, thou mayest see at times 

Five or yet more in order dangling down 

And swaying in the delicate winds, whilst one 

Depends from other, cleaving to underside, 

And ilk one feels the stone's own power and bonds 

So overmasteringly its power flows down. 

In things of this sort, much must be made sure 

Ere thou account of the thing itself canst give, 

And the approaches roundabout must be; 

Wherefore the more do I exact of thee 

A mind and ears attent. 

First, from all things 

We see soever, evermore must flow, 

Must be discharged and strewn about, about, 

Bodies that strike the eyes, awaking sight. 

From certain things flow odours evermore, 

As cold from rivers, heat from sun, and spray 

From waves of ocean, eaterout of walls 

Along the coasts. Nor ever cease to seep 

The varied echoings athrough the air. 

Then, too, there comes into the mouth at times 

The wet of a salt taste, when by the sea 

We roam about; and so, whene'er we watch 

The wormwood being mixed, its bitter stings. 

To such degree from all things is each thing 

Borne streamingly along, and sent about 

To every region round; and Nature grants 

Nor rest nor respite of the onward flow, 

Since 'tis incessantly we feeling have, 

And all the time are suffered to descry 

And smell all things at hand and hear them sound. 

Now will I seek again to bring to mind 

How porous a body all things have a fact 

Made manifest in my first canto, too. 

For truly, though to know this doth import 

For many things, yet for this very thing 

On which straightway I'm going to discourse, 

'Tis needful most of all to make it sure 

That naught's at hand but body mixed with void. 

A first ensample: in grottos, rocks o'erhead 

Sweat moisture and distil the oozy drops; 

Likewise, from all our body seeps the sweat; 

There grows the beard, and along our members all 

And along our frame the hairs. Through all our veins 

Disseminates the foods, and gives increase 

And aliment down to the extreme parts, 

Even to the tiniest fingernails. Likewise, 

Through solid bronze the cold and fiery heat 

We feel to pass; likewise, we feel them pass 

Through gold, through silver, when we clasp in hand 

The brimming goblets. And, again, there flit 

Voices through houses' hedging walls of stone; 

Odour seeps through, and cold, and heat of fire 

That's wont to penetrate even strength of iron. 

Again, where corselet of the sky girds round 


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And at same time, some Influence of bane, 

When from Beyond 'thas stolen into our world. 

And tempests, gathering from the earth and sky, 

Back to the sky and earth absorbed retire 

With reason, since there's naught that's fashioned not 

With body porous. 

Furthermore, not all 

The particles which be from things thrown off 

Are furnished with same qualities for sense, 

Nor be for all things equally adapt. 

A first ensample: the sun doth bake and parch 

The earth; but ice he thaws, and with his beams 

Compels the lofty snows, upreared white 

Upon the lofty hills, to waste away; 

Then, wax, if set beneath the heat of him, 

Melts to a liquid. And the fire, likewise, 

Will melt the copper and will fuse the gold, 

But hides and flesh it shrivels up and shrinks. 

The water hardens the iron just off the fire, 

But hides and flesh (made hard by heat) it softens. 

The oleastertree as much delights 

The bearded shegoats, verily as though 

'Twere nectarsteeped and shed ambrosia; 

Than which is naught that burgeons into leaf 

More bitter food for man. A hog draws back 

For marjoram oil, and every unguent fears 

Fierce poison these unto the bristled hogs, 

Yet unto us from time to time they seem, 

As 'twere, to give new life. But, contrariwise, 

Though unto us the mire be filth most foul, 

To hogs that mire doth so delightsome seem 

That they with wallowing from belly to back 

Are never cloyed. 

A point remains, besides, 

Which best it seems to tell of, ere I go 

To telling of the fact at hand itself. 

Since to the varied things assigned be 

The many pores, those pores must be diverse 

In nature one from other, and each have 

Its very shape, its own direction fixed. 

And so, indeed, in breathing creatures be 

The several senses, of which each takes in 

Unto itself, in its own fashion ever, 

Its own peculiar object. For we mark 

How sounds do into one place penetrate, 

Into another flavours of all juice, 

And savour of smell into a third. Moreover, 

One sort through rocks we see to seep, and, lo, 

One sort to pass through wood, another still 

Through gold, and others to go out and off 

Through silver and through glass. For we do see 

Through some pores formandlook of things to flow, 

Through others heat to go, and some things still 

To speedier pass than others through same pores. 

Of verity, the nature of these same paths, 

Varying in many modes (as aforesaid) 

Because of unlike nature and warp and woof 

Of cosmic things, constrains it so to be. 

Wherefore, since all these matters now have been 

Established and settled well for us 

As premises prepared, for what remains 


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'Twill not be hard to render clear account 

By means of these, and the whole cause reveal 

Whereby the magnet lures the strength of iron. 

First, stream there must from off the lodestone seeds 

Innumerable, a very tide, which smites 

By blows that air asunder lying betwixt 

The stone and iron. And when is emptied out 

This space, and a large place between the two 

Is made a void, forthwith the primal germs 

Of iron, headlong slipping, fall conjoined 

Into the vacuum, and the ring itself 

By reason thereof doth follow after and go 

Thuswise with all its body. And naught there is 

That of its own primordial elements 

More thoroughly knit or tighter linked coheres 

Than nature and cold roughness of stout iron. 

Wherefore, 'tis less a marvel what I said, 

That from such elements no bodies can 

From out the iron collect in larger throng 

And be into the vacuum borne along, 

Without the ring itself do follow after. 

And this it does, and followeth on until 

'Thath reached the stone itself and cleaved to it 

By links invisible. Moreover, likewise, 

The motion's assisted by a thing of aid 

(Whereby the process easier becomes) 

Namely, by this: as soon as rarer grows 

That air in front of the ring, and space between 

Is emptied more and made a void, forthwith 

It happens all the air that lies behind 

Conveys it onward, pushing from the rear. 

For ever doth the circumambient air 

Drub things unmoved, but here it pushes forth 

The iron, because upon one side the space 

Lies void and thus receives the iron in. 

This air, whereof I am reminding thee, 

Winding athrough the iron's abundant pores 

So subtly into the tiny parts thereof, 

Shoves it and pushes, as wind the ship and sails. 

The same doth happen in all directions forth: 

From whatso side a space is made a void, 

Whether from crosswise or above, forthwith 

The neighbour particles are borne along 

Into the vacuum; for of verity, 

They're set agoing by poundings from elsewhere, 

Nor by themselves of own accord can they 

Rise upwards into the air. Again, all things 

Must in their framework hold some air, because 

They are of framework porous, and the air 

Encompasses and borders on all things. 

Thus, then, this air in iron so deeply stored 

Is tossed evermore in vexed motion, 

And therefore drubs upon the ring sans doubt 

And shakes it up inside.... 

In sooth, that ring is thither borne along 

To where 'thas once plunged headlong thither, lo, 

Unto the void whereto it took its start. 

It happens, too, at times that nature of iron 

Shrinks from this stone away, accustomed 

By turns to flee and follow. Yea, I've seen 


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Those Samothracian iron rings leap up, 

And iron filings in the brazen bowls 

Seethe furiously, when underneath was set 

The magnet stone. So strongly iron seems 

To crave to flee that rock. Such discord great 

Is gendered by the interposed brass, 

Because, forsooth, when first the tide of brass 

Hath seized upon and held possession of 

The iron's open passageways, thereafter 

Cometh the tide of the stone, and in that iron 

Findeth all spaces full, nor now hath holes 

To swim through, as before. 'Tis thus constrained 

With its own current 'gainst the iron's fabric 

To dash and beat; by means whereof it spews 

Forth from itself and through the brass stirs up 

The things which otherwise without the brass 

It sucks into itself. In these affairs 

Marvel thou not that from this stone the tide 

Prevails not likewise other things to move 

With its own blows: for some stand firm by weight, 

As gold; and some cannot be moved forever, 

Because so porous in their framework they 

That there the tide streams through without a break, 

Of which sort stuff of wood is seen to be. 

Therefore, when iron (which lies between the two) 

Hath taken in some atoms of the brass, 

Then do the streams of that Magnesian rock 

Move iron by their smitings. 

Yet these things 

Are not so alien from others, that I 

Of this same sort am ill prepared to name 

Ensamples still of things exclusively 

To one another adapt. Thou seest, first, 

How lime alone cementeth stones: how wood 

Only by glueofbull with wood is joined 

So firmly too that oftener the boards 

Crack open along the weakness of the grain 

Ere ever those taurine bonds will lax their hold. 

The vineborn juices with the watersprings 

Are bold to mix, though not the heavy pitch 

With the light oilofolive. And purple dye 

Of shellfish so uniteth with the wool's 

Body alone that it cannot be ta'en 

Away forever nay, though thou gavest toil 

To restore the same with the Neptunian flood, 

Nay, though all ocean willed to wash it out 

With all its waves. Again, gold unto gold 

Doth not one substance bind, and only one? 

And is not brass by tin joined unto brass? 

And other ensamples how many might one find! 

What then? Nor is there unto thee a need 

Of such long ways and roundabout, nor boots it 

For me much toil on this to spend. More fit 

It is in few words briefly to embrace 

Things many: things whose textures fall together 

So mutually adapt, that cavities 

To solids correspond, these cavities 

Of this thing to the solid parts of that, 

And those of that to solid parts of this 

Such joinings are the best. Again, some things 

Can be the one with other coupled and held, 

Linked by hooks and eyes, as 'twere; and this


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Seems more the fact with iron and this stone. 

Now, of diseases what the law, and whence 

The Influence of bane upgathering can 

Upon the race of man and herds of cattle 

Kindle a devastation fraught with death, 

I will unfold. And, first, I've taught above 

That seeds there be of many things to us 

Lifegiving, and that, contrariwise, there must 

Fly many round bringing disease and death. 

When these have, haply, chanced to collect 

And to derange the atmosphere of earth, 

The air becometh baneful. And, lo, all 

That Influence of bane, that pestilence, 

Or from Beyond down through our atmosphere, 

Like clouds and mists, descends, or else collects 

From earth herself and rises, when, asoak 

And beat by rains unseasonable and suns, 

Our earth hath then contracted stench and rot. 

Seest thou not, also, that whoso arrive 

In region far from fatherland and home 

Are by the strangeness of the clime and waters 

Distempered? since conditions vary much. 

For in what else may we suppose the clime 

Among the Britons to differ from Aegypt's own 

(Where totters awry the axis of the world), 

Or in what else to differ Pontic clime 

From Gades' and from climes adown the south, 

On to black generations of strong men 

With sunbaked skins? Even as we thus do see 

Four climes diverse under the four mainwinds 

And under the four mainregions of the sky, 

So, too, are seen the colour and face of men 

Vastly to disagree, and fixed diseases 

To seize the generations, kind by kind: 

There is the elephantdisease which down 

In midmost Aegypt, hard by streams of Nile, 

Engendered is and never otherwhere. 

In Attica the feet are oft attacked, 

And in Achaean lands the eyes. And so 

The divers spots to divers parts and limbs 

Are noxious; 'tis a variable air 

That causes this. Thus when an atmosphere, 

Alien by chance to us, begins to heave, 

And noxious airs begin to crawl along, 

They creep and wind like unto mist and cloud, 

Slowly, and everything upon their way 

They disarrange and force to change its state. 

It happens, too, that when they've come at last 

Into this atmosphere of ours, they taint 

And make it like themselves and alien. 

Therefore, asudden this devastation strange, 

This pestilence, upon the waters falls, 

Or settles on the very crops of grain 

Or other meat of men and feed of flocks. 

Or it remains a subtle force, suspense 

In the atmosphere itself; and when therefrom 

We draw our inhalations of mixed air, 

Into our body equally its bane 

Also we must suck in. In manner like, 

Oft comes the pestilence upon the kine, 

And sickness, too, upon the sluggish sheep. 

Nor aught it matters whether journey we 


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To regions adverse to ourselves and change 

The atmospheric cloak, or whether Nature 

Herself import a tainted atmosphere 

To us or something strange to our own use 

Which can attack us soon as ever it come. 

The Plague Athens

'Twas such a manner of disease, 'twas such 

Mortal miasma in Cecropian lands 

Whilom reduced the plains to dead men's bones, 

Unpeopled the highways, drained of citizens 

The Athenian town. For coming from afar, 

Rising in lands of Aegypt, traversing 

Reaches of air and floating fields of foam, 

At last on all Pandion's folk it swooped; 

Whereat by troops unto disease and death 

Were they o'ergiven. At first, they'd bear about 

A skull on fire with heat, and eyeballs twain 

Red with suffusion of blank glare. Their throats, 

Black on the inside, sweated oozy blood; 

And the walled pathway of the voice of man 

Was clogged with ulcers; and the very tongue, 

The mind's interpreter, would trickle gore, 

Weakened by torments, tardy, rough to touch. 

Next when that Influence of bane had chocked, 

Down through the throat, the breast, and streamed had 

E'en into sullen heart of those sick folk, 

Then, verily, all the fences of man's life 

Began to topple. From the mouth the breath 

Would roll a noisome stink, as stink to heaven 

Rotting cadavers flung unburied out. 

And, lo, thereafter, all the body's strength 

And every power of mind would languish, now 

In very doorway of destruction. 

And anxious anguish and ululation (mixed 

With many a groan) companioned alway 

The intolerable torments. Night and day, 

Recurrent spasms of vomiting would rack 

Alway their thews and members, breaking down 

With sheer exhaustion men already spent. 

And yet on no one's body couldst thou mark 

The skin with o'ermuch heat to burn aglow, 

But rather the body unto touch of hands 

Would offer a warmish feeling, and thereby 

Show red all over, with ulcers, so to say, 

Inbranded, like the "sacred fires" o'erspread 

Along the members. The inward parts of men, 

In truth, would blaze unto the very bones; 

A flame, like flame in furnaces, would blaze 

Within the stomach. Nor couldst aught apply 

Unto their members light enough and thin 

For shift of aid but coolness and a breeze 

Ever and ever. Some would plunge those limbs 

On fire with bane into the icy streams, 

Hurling the body naked into the waves; 

Many would headlong fling them deeply down 

The waterpits, tumbling with eager mouth 

Already agape. The insatiable thirst 


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That whelmed their parched bodies, lo, would make 

A goodly shower seem like to scanty drops. 

Respite of torment was there none. Their frames 

Forspent lay prone. With silent lips of fear 

Would Medicine mumble low, the while she saw 

So many a time men roll their eyeballs round, 

Staring wideopen, unvisited of sleep, 

The heralds of old death. And in those months 

Was given many another sign of death: 

The intellect of mind by sorrow and dread 

Deranged, the sad brow, the countenance 

Fierce and delirious, the tormented ears 

Beset with ringings, the breath quick and short 

Or huge and intermittent, soaking sweat 

Aglisten on neck, the spittle in fine gouts 

Tainted with colour of crocus and so salt, 

The cough scarce wheezing through the rattling throat. 

Aye, and the sinews in the fingered hands 

Were sure to contract, and sure the jointed frame 

To shiver, and up from feet the cold to mount 

Inch after inch: and toward the supreme hour 

At last the pinched nostrils, nose's tip 

A very point, eyes sunken, temples hollow, 

Skin cold and hard, the shuddering grimace, 

The pulled and puffy flesh above the brows! 

O not long after would their frames lie prone 

In rigid death. And by about the eighth 

Resplendent light of sun, or at the most 

On the ninth flaming of his flambeau, they 

Would render up the life. If any then 

Had 'scaped the doom of that destruction, yet 

Him there awaited in the after days 

A wasting and a death from ulcers vile 

And black discharges of the belly, or else 

Through the clogged nostrils would there ooze along 

Much fouled blood, oft with an aching head: 

Hither would stream a man's whole strength and flesh. 

And whoso had survived that virulent flow 

Of the vile blood, yet into thews of him 

And into his joints and very genitals 

Would pass the old disease. And some there were, 

Dreading the doorways of destruction 

So much, lived on, deprived by the knife 

Of the male member; not a few, though lopped 

Of hands and feet, would yet persist in life, 

And some there were who lost their eyeballs: O 

So fierce a fear of death had fallen on them! 

And some, besides, were by oblivion 

Of all things seized, that even themselves they know 

No longer. And though corpse on corpse lay piled 

Unburied on ground, the race of birds and beasts 

Would or spring back, scurrying to escape 

The virulent stench, or, if they'd tasted there, 

Would languish in approaching death. But yet 

Hardly at all during those many suns 

Appeared a fowl, nor from the woods went forth 

The sullen generations of wild beasts 

They languished with disease and died and died. 

In chief, the faithful dogs, in all the streets 

Outstretched, would yield their breath distressfully 

For so that Influence of bane would twist 

Life from their members. Nor was found one sure 


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Page No 166


And universal principle of cure: 

For what to one had given the power to take 

The vital winds of air into his mouth, 

And to gaze upward at the vaults of sky, 

The same to others was their death and doom. 

In those affairs, O awfullest of all, 

O pitiable most was this, was this: 

Whoso once saw himself in that disease 

Entangled, ay, as damned unto death, 

Would lie in wanhope, with a sullen heart, 

Would, in forevision of his funeral, 

Give up the ghost, O then and there. For, lo, 

At no time did they cease one from another 

To catch contagion of the greedy plague, 

As though but woolly flocks and horned herds; 

And this in chief would heap the dead on dead: 

For who forbore to look to their own sick, 

O these (too eager of life, of death afeard) 

Would then, soon after, slaughtering Neglect 

Visit with vengeance of evil death and base 

Themselves deserted and forlorn of help. 

But who had stayed at hand would perish there 

By that contagion and the toil which then 

A sense of honour and the pleading voice 

Of weary watchers, mixed with voice of wail 

Of dying folk, forced them to undergo. 

This kind of death each nobler soul would meet. 

The funerals, uncompanioned, forsaken, 

Like rivals contended to be hurried through. 

And men contending to ensepulchre 

Pile upon pile the throng of their own dead: 

And weary with woe and weeping wandered home; 

And then the most would take to bed from grief. 

Nor could be found not one, whom nor disease 

Nor death, nor woe had not in those dread times 

Attacked. 

By now the shepherds and neatherds all, 

Yea, even the sturdy guiders of curved ploughs, 

Began to sicken, and their bodies would lie 

Huddled within backcorners of their huts, 

Delivered by squalor and disease to death. 

O often and often couldst thou then have seen 

On lifeless children lifeless parents prone, 

Or offspring on their fathers', mothers' corpse 

Yielding the life. And into the city poured 

O not in least part from the countryside 

That tribulation, which the peasantry 

Sick, sick, brought thither, thronging from every quarter,

Plaguestricken mob. All places would they crowd, 

All buildings too; whereby the more would death 

Uppile aheap the folk so crammed in town. 

Ah, many a body thirst had dragged and rolled 

Along the highways there was lying strewn 

Besides Silenusheaded waterfountains, 

The lifebreath choked from that too dear desire 

Of pleasant waters. Ah, everywhere along 

The open places of the populace, 

And along the highways, O thou mightest see 

Of many a halfdead body the sagged limbs, 


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Rough with squalor, wrapped around with rags, 

Perish from very nastiness, with naught 

But skin upon the bones, wellnigh already 

Buried in ulcers vile and obscene filth. 

All holy temples, too, of deities 

Had Death becrammed with the carcasses; 

And stood each fane of the Celestial Ones 

Laden with stark cadavers everywhere 

Places which warders of the shrines had crowded 

With many a guest. For now no longer men 

Did mightily esteem the old Divine, 

The worship of the gods: the woe at hand 

Did overmaster. Nor in the city then 

Remained those rites of sepulture, with which 

That pious folk had evermore been wont 

To buried be. For it was wildered all 

In wild alarms, and each and every one 

With sullen sorrow would bury his own dead, 

As present shift allowed. And sudden stress 

And poverty to many an awful act 

Impelled; and with a monstrous screaming they 

Would, on the frames of alien funeral pyres, 

Place their own kin, and thrust the torch beneath 

Oft brawling with much bloodshed round about 

Rather than quit dead bodies loved in life. 

THE END


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Bookmarks



1. Table of Contents, page = 3

2. On the Nature of Things, page = 4

   3. Lucretius, page = 4

   4. BOOK I, page = 5

   5. Proem , page = 5

   6. Substance is Eternal, page = 7

   7. The Void, page = 11

   8. Nothing Exists Per Se Except Atoms and the Void, page = 13

   9. Character of the Atoms, page = 14

   10. Confutation of Other Philosophers, page = 17

   11. The Infinity of the Universe, page = 23

   12. BOOK II, page = 27

   13. Proem , page = 27

   14. Atomic Motions, page = 29

   15. Atomic Forms and Their Combinations, page = 35

   16. Absence of Secondary Qualities, page = 43

   17. Lo, change the rivers, the fronds, the gladsome pastures, page = 46

   18. Infinite Worlds, page = 49

   19. BOOK III, page = 53

   20. Proem , page = 53

   21. Nature and Composition of the Mind, page = 55

   22. The Soul is Mortal, page = 61

   23. Folly of the Fear of Death, page = 70

   24. Cerberus and Furies, and that Lack of Light , page = 74

   25. BOOK IV, page = 76

   26. Proem , page = 76

   27. Existence and Character of the Images, page = 76

   28. The Senses and Mental Pictures, page = 80

   29. Some Vital Functions, page = 94

   30. The Passion of Love, page = 99

   31. BOOK V, page = 104

   32. Proem , page = 104

   33. Argument of the Book and New Proem Against Teleological  Concept, page = 105

   34. The World is Not Eternal, page = 109

   35. Formation of the World and Astronomical Questions, page = 114

   36. Origins of Vegetable and Animal Life, page = 123

   37. Origins and Savage Period of Mankind, page = 126

   38. Beginnings of Civilization, page = 128

   39. BOOK VI, page = 138

   40. Proem , page = 138

   41. Great Meteorological Phenomena, Etc, page = 141

   42. Extraordinary and Paradoxical Telluric Phenomena, page = 153

   43. The Plague Athens, page = 165