[Footnote 426: 'Nay, but for everlasting lives our poet's work, abides, and goes forth toward the ages late in time. So long as in the silent firmament the stars shall shine; so long as day shall rise from sun-burned Ind; so long as Phosphor runs before the wheels of light; so long as gloomy winter leads to spring, and summer to autumn; while breathing ocean ebbs and flows by turns, and the mixed elements put on their changing shapes--so long, for ever, shall endure great Maro's fame, for ever shall flow these rivers from his unexhausted fount, for ever shall draughts of learning be drawn from these rills, for ever shall these meadows yield their perfumed flowers, to pasture holy bees, and give the youthful Graces garlands for their hair.'--_Carmina_, &c. p. 207.] Not less ingenious than the poem itself is the elegiac introduction. Poliziano feigns that when the Minyæ came to Cheiron's cave on Pelion, and supped with him, Orpheus sang a divine melody, and then the young Achilles took the lyre, and with rude fingers praised the poet's song. The Minyæ smiled, but Orpheus was touched by the boy-hero's praises. Even so will Maro haply take delight in mine:-- Finis erat dapibus; citharam pius excitat Orpheus, Et movet ad doctas verba canora manus. Conticuere viri, tenuere silentia venti, Vosque retro cursum mox tenuistis aquæ. Jam volucres fessis pendere sub æthera pennis, Jamque truces videas ora tenere feras. Decurrunt scopulis auritæ ad carmina quercus, Nudaque Peliacus culmina motat apex. Et jam materno permulserat omnia cantu, Cum tacuit, querulam deposuitque fidem. Occupat hanc audax, digitosque affringit Achilles, Indoctumque rudi personat ore puer. Materiam quæris? laudabat carmina blandi Hospitis, et tantæ murmura magna lyræ. Riserunt Minyæ: sed enim tibi dicitur, Orpheu, Hæc pueri pietas grata fuisse nimis. Me quoque nunc magni nomen celebrare Maronis, Si qua fides vero est, gaudet et ipse Maro.[427] [Footnote 427: 'Supper was over; Orpheus awakes the lyre, and sings a melody to suit the tune he plays. The men were silent; the winds hushed; the rivers held their waters back to hear; the birds hung motionless in air; and the wild beasts grew calm. From the cliffs the oaks run down with listening ears, and the top of Pelion nods his barren head. And now the bard had soothed the whole world with his mother's song; when he ceased from singing and put down the thrilling lyre. This bold Achilles seizes; he runs his fingers o'er the strings, and chaunts an untaught lay, the simple boy. What was his theme? you ask. He praised the singing of the gentle guest, the mighty murmurs of that lyre divine. The Minyæ laughed; but yet, so runs the tale, even all too sweet, Orpheus, to thee was the boy's homage. Just so my praise of mighty Maro's name, if faith be not a dream, gives joy to Maro's self.'--_Carmina_, &c. p. 197.]