Sordes ô tibi gratulamur istas, O Musa aurea, blanda, delicata; O Musa, ô tibi candidas, suoque Jam nec nomine, jam nec ore notas: Sacro carmine quippe delinitae Se nunc, ô bene nesciunt, novaque Mirantur facie novum nitorem. Ipsas tu facis ô nitere sordes. Sordes ô tibi gratulamur ipsas. Si non hic natibus procax malignis Foedo fulmine turpis intonasset, Unde insurgeret haec querela vindex, Docto et murmure carminis severi Dulces fortiter aggregaret iras? Ipsae ô te faciunt nitere sordes: Sordes ô tibi gratulamur ipsas. Quam pulchre tua migrat Hippocrene! Turpi quam bene degener parenti! Foedi filia tam serena fontis. Has de stercore quis putaret undas? Sic ô lactea surge, Musa, surge; Surge inter medias serena sordes. Spumis qualiter in suis Dione, Cum prompsit latus aureum, atque primas Ortu purpureo movebat undas. Sic ô lactea surge, Musa, surge: Enni stercus erit Maronis aurum. TRANSLATION. TO A TRACTATE ON THIS SUBJECT PUBLISHED BY THE MASTER OF THE SCHOOL HIMSELF, WHICH IS CALLED 'PRISCIANUS VERBERANS ET VAPULANS.' On this vile theme thee we congratulate, O golden Muse, pleasing and delicate; This fair white vileness, Muse, which by its own Or name or face is now no longer known. For, charm'd by thy poetic sacred strain, It knows not, happily, itself again; But with new face wonders at its new splendour-- For splendid e'en a vile theme thou canst render: Congratulations for vile theme we tender. For had not _he_,[114] with headlong buttocks base, Gone flashing foully on with thunderous pace, From whence would this avenging plant have sprung, This solemn strain with polish'd music rung? And whence had gather'd these brave angers tender? O Muse, the vilest theme can bring thee splendour, For which congratulations now we render. Thy Hippocrenè comes with a fair face, Finely unworthy of its father base; Of a foul fountain so serene a daughter: From dunghill, who would dream such crystal water? Thus rise, O Muse, O rise, a milk-white queen, Out of the midst of vileness rise serene. Even as Venus rising from her spray, When she discover'd to the light of day Her golden limbs, the billowy waves surprising With the first glory of her purple rising; So rise, O Muse, thy milk-white grace unfold; Ennius' dunghill will be Virgil's gold! R. WI. MELIUS PURGATUR STOMACHUS PER VOMITUM QUAM PER SECESSUM.