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Description
I lay, conceal'd from man and god:
Deep in a cavern'd rock my days were led;
The rushing ocean murmur'd o'er my head.
Now, since her presence glads our mansion, say,
For such desert what service can I pay?
Vouchsafe, O Thetis! at our board to share
The genial rites, and hospitable fare;
While I the labours of the forge forego,
And bid the roaring bellows cease to blow."
Then from his anvil the lame artist rose;
Wide with distorted legs oblique he goes,
And stills the bell
Details
to give his author entire and unmaimed; and for the
rest, the diction and versification only are his proper province, since
these must be his own, but the others he is to take as he finds them.
It should then be considered what methods may afford some equivalent in
our language for the graces of these in the Greek. It is certain no
literal translation can be just to an excellent original in a superior
language: but it is a great mistake to imagine (as many have done) that a
rash paraphrase can make amends for this general defect; which is no less
in danger to lose the spirit of an ancient, by deviating into the modern
manners of expression. If there be sometimes a darkness, there is often a
light in antiquity, which nothing better preserves than a version almost
literal. I know no liberties one ought to take, but those which are
necessary to transfusing the spirit of the original, and supporting the
poetical style of the translation: and I will venture to say, there have
not been more men misled in former times by a servile, dull adherence to
the letter, than have been deluded in ours by a chimerical, insolent hope
of raising and improving their author. It is not to be doubted, that the
fire of the poem is what a translator should principally regard, as it is
most likely to expire in his managing: however, it is his safest way to be
content with preserving this to his utmost in the whole, without
endeavouring to be more than he finds his author is, in any particular
place. It is a great secret in writing, to know when to be plain, and when
poetical and figurative; and it is what Homer will teach us, if we will
but follow modestly in his footsteps. Where his diction is bold and lofty,
let us raise ours as high as we can; but where his is plain and humble, we
ought not to be deterred from imitating him by the fear of incurring the
censure of a mere English critic. Nothing that belongs to Homer seems to
have been more commonly mistaken than the just pitch of his styl