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
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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 hoar-frosts of the year
The forward path is fixed, and by like law O'ertravelled backwards at the dawn of spring. For each degree of hot, and each of cold,
And the half-warm, 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,
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 to-day 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 four-foot kind Snake-handed 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,
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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 ship-wrecks 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
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 birth-cries, 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
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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 mountain-roaming 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,