Valerius Flaccus Quotes
Gaius Valerius Flaccus (Setinus Balbus) (died c. AD 90) was a Roman poet of the Silver Age.
Also known as: Gaius Valerius Flaccus
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Just as a vessel caught by the Pleiads on the foaming deep and kept safe only by its anxious helmsman’s care cleaves unharmed the sea that contending winds make boisterous, so Pollux warily watches the blows.
And takes forth a Caucasian herb, of potency sure beyond all others, sprung of the gore that dropped from the liver of Prometheus, and grass wind-nurtured, fostered and strengthened by that blood divine among snows and grisly frosts.
Then indeed, pierced by grief's bitterest pang, she clutched the hand of Jason and humbly besought him thus: "Remember me, I pray, for never, believe me, shall I be forgetful of thee. When thou art gone, tell me, I beg, on what quarter of the heaven must I gaze?"
They ravage and sweep away my banquet, and befoul and upset the cups, there is a violent stench and a sorry battle arises, for the monsters are as famished as I. What all have scorned or polluted with their touch, or what has fallen from their filthy claws, helps me to linger thus among the living.
Go now, go, but forget not the land that first folded you to its peaceful bosom; and from Colchis' conquered shores bring back hither thy sails, I pray thee, by this Jason whom thou leavest in my womb.
Idmon, Phoebus' son, ... to him the Father gave by his ordinance the foreknowledge of omens divine, whether he inquired of flames or close-viewed entrails smooth, or of the air thick with fowls that cannot lie.
My song is of the straits first navigated by the mighty sons of gods, of the prophetic ship that dared to seek the shores of Scythian Phasis, that burst unswerving through the clashing rocks, to slink at length to rest in the starry firmament.
So in the midnight shadows of the grove did they two meet and draw nigh each other, awe-struck, like silent first or motionless cypresses, when the mad South wind hath not yet intertwined their boughs.
Then once more comes deep grief to their hearts, when he comrades sat in their places and no lion's hide was there to see, but the empty seat upon that mighty thwart. Loyal Aeacides weeps, the heart of Philoctetes is sad, brother Pollux with his dear Castor makes lament. The ship is flying fast, and still all cry "Hercules," all cry "Hylas," but the names are lost in the middle of the sea.
Are they heroes or mere dreamers?
Misattributed