Giambattista Marino (1569–1625)

Translated by James Glassford, of Dougalston

HERE Leo rests. And ne’er was bred in Crete,

Never in Sparta, or Molossian ground,

Or wooded Thessaly, a nobler hound—

Like thunder crashing, as the lightning fleet!

Not wolf or tiger did he fear to meet;

And when from tuskèd boar he took his wound,

The invader’s muzzle, claws, and bones were found—

A warrior’s trophies scattered at his feet.

His drooping fellows, and the herd in heap,

Who miss the Leader and Protector near,

Wail him with piteous howl, and lowings deep.

Shepherds, who now the beast and robber fear,

Unused without your guard the fold to keep,

Strew flowers on Leo’s turf, and drop a tear!