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TRANSLATIONS
FROM THE
CLASSICS
tiiE.
FRENCH AN o ITALIAN.
BY AN IDLER.
PRINTED BY HIMSELF FOR HIIMSELF.
PHILADELPHIA.
1861.



DELECTUS EX POETIS ANGLICE VERSI.
VIRGILIUS.
BUCOLICA.
ECLOGA I.
MELIB0EUS. TITYRUS.
MELIBOEUS.
Tityre, tu patulae recubans sub tegmine fagi
Silvestrem tenui musam meditaris avena :
Nos patriæ fines et dulcia linquimus arva ;
Nos patriam fugimus: tu, Tityre, lentus in umbra,
Formosam resonare doces Amaryllida silvas.
TITYRUS.
O Meliboee, Deus nobis hæc otia fecit.
Namque erit ille mihi semper Deus ; illius aram
Sæpe tener nostris ab ovilibus imbuet agnus.
Ille meas errare boves, ut cernis, et ipsum
Ludere, quæ vellem, calamo permisit agresti.
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TRANSLATIONS FROM THE CLASSICS.
VIRGIL.
BUCOLICS.
ECLOGUE I.
MELIB0Eu's. TITYrus.
MEI.II* deus.
Trryrus, 'neath a spreading beech's sbade,
In rustic strains, you sing your favorite maid ;
I, from the objects dearest to my heart,
Home, native land, have been compelled to part;
Whilst you, reclining, make the groves around
With Amaryllis' echoed name resound.
TITYrus.
Oh ! Meliboeus, tis a God bestows
On me these happy moments of repose;
To me, he'll ever be a God indeed,
And oft, a lamb shall on his altar bleed.
To him I owe that, safe, my flocks can rove,
Whilst, on my pipe, I play the strains I love.


ECLOGA I.
MEI.IH deUs .
Non equidem invideo : miror magis: undique totis
Usque adeo turbatur agris. En, ipse capellas
Protenus æger ago ; hanc etiam vix, Tityre, duco.
Hic inter densas corylos modo namque gemellos,
Spem gregis, ah! silice in nuda connixa reliquit.
Sæpe malum hoc nobis, si mens non læva fuisset,
De coelo tactas memini praedicere quercus.
“Saepe sinistra cava praedixit ab ilice cornix."
Sed tamen, iste Deus qui sit, da, Tityre, nobis.
*t*i*t*Yrus.
Urbem, quam dicunt Romam, Meliboee, putavi
Stultus ego huic nostrae similem, quo saepe solemus
Pastores ovium teneros depellere fetus.
Sic canibus catulos similes, sic matribus hædos
Noram; sic parvis componere magna solebam.
Verum haec tantum alias inter caput extulit urbes,
Quantum lenta solent inter viburna cupressi.
MEI.IBOEUS .
Et quae tanta fuit Romam tibi causa videndi?
TITYrus.
Libertas: quæ, sera, tamen respexit inertem,
Candidior postquam tondenti barba cadebat;
Respexit tamen, et longo post tempore venit,
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ECLOGUE I.
MELIBOEUS.
I do not envy you your peaceful life,
But marvel at it, in these times of strife.
See how, though ill, to guide my goats I strive,
And how, e'en this one, I can scarcely drive,
She, 'mong the hazels, pride of all my flock,
Had twins, and left them on the flinty rock.
Fool that I was! my oaks, by lightning struck,
Had often warned me of this evil luck.
Oft, from the hollow of some aged oak,
The crow foretold it by her boding croak.
But that God, Tityrus, tell me, who is he !
^t ITYrus.
Oh Meliboeus, I had foolishly
Imagined Rome, that city of renown,
Resembled Mantua, my own native town;
Where oft, we shepherds driving, would expose
Forsale, the offspring of our tender ewes.
That whelps do grow like dogs, 1 well did know,
And oft had seen kids like their mothers grow;
Thus things, however small or great they were,
I had been used together to compare;
But, far as cypresses o'ertop the grass,
Does Rome all other cities far surpass.


Meliboeus.
What took you, thus, to Rome, I pray you state!

ECLOGA I.
Postquam nos Amaryllis habet, Galatea reliquit.
Namque, fatebor enim, dum me Galatea tenebat,
Nec spes libertatis erat, nec cura peculi.
Quamvis multa meis exiret victima saeptis,
Pinguis et ingratae premeretur caseus urbi:
Non unquam gravis ære domum mihi dextra redibat.
MEI.IBOEUS.
Mirabar, quid moesta Deos, Amarylli, vocares;
Cui pendere sua patereris in arbore poma.
Tityrus hinc aberat. Ipsae te, Tityre, pinus,
Ipsi te fontes, ipsa haec arbusta, vocabant.
TITYRUS.
Quid facerem ! neque servitio me exire licebat,
Nec tam praesentis alibi cognoscere Divos.
Hic illum vidi juvenem, Meliboee, quotannis
Bis senos cui nostra dies altaria fumant.
Hic mihi responsum primus dedit ille petenti:
Pascite, ut ante, boves, pueri; submittite tauros.
MEI.IBOEUS.
Fortunate senex, ergo tua rura manebunt!
Et tibi magna satis; quamvis lapis omnia nudus
I


ECLOGUE I.
TITYRUS.
“Twas love of freedom moved me; although late
It sought me out, and after such delay,
That when my beard was cut, its hue was gray.
This happened during Amaryllis' reign,
And when I'd thrown off Galatea's chain.
For, while the latter held me as her thrall,
My hopes of freedom and of gain were small.
For, from my folds, though many a victim went
To the ungrateful town ; though also, sent
Were rich moist cheeses of the finest brand,
1 ne'er went back with money in my hand.
MEI.IBOEUS.
I wondered why, sad Amaryllis, thou
lmplor'dst the Gods; and why thou did'st allow
The fruit to hang upon its parent tree.
Thy Tityrus' absence was the cause, 1 see.
The pines, the groves, the fountains, Tityrus, all
In one accord, re-echoed thy recall.
TITYRUS.

What could I do! a slave, 1 could not stay,
Nor meet with Gods as bounteous, if away.
Here, first it was, the youth I did discern,
For whom, twelve times each year, our altars burn
Here, as I prayed, he first, thus gracious spoke:
“Feed, as of old, your beeves, your oxen yoke."
* * M *. i.ibtaeus.
- -, -, -, • * -
Happy old man! you still cam call your own
Acres enough for all your wants. Though stone

ECLOGA I.
Limosoque palus obducat pascua junco.
Non insueta graves tentabunt pabula fetas,
Nec mala vicini pecoris contagia lædent.
Fortunate senex, hic inter flumina nota
Et fontes sacros frigus captabis opacum;
Hinc, tibi quae semper vicino ab limite sæpes
Hyblaeis apibus florem depasta salicti,
Sæpe levi somnum suadebit inire susurro;
Hinc alta sub rupe canet frondator ad auras,
Nec tamen interea raucæ, tua cura, palumbes,
Nec gemere aeria-cessabit turtur ab ulmo.
- -
TITYRUS.
Ante leves ergo pascentur in aethere cervi,
Et freta destituent nudos in litore pisces;
Ante, pererratis amborum finibus, exsul
Aut Ararim Parthus bibet, aut Germania Tigrim
Quam nostro illius labatur pectore vultus.
MEI.IBOEUS.
At nos hinc alii sitientis ibimus Afros,
Pars Scythiam et rapidum Cretæ veniemus Oaxem,
Et penitus toto divisos orbe Britannos.
En, unquam patrios longo post tempore fines,
I.


ECLOGUE I.
And slimy mud the pasture fields o'erspread,
Thy teeming ewes no noxious food need dread;
Nor fear to catch, from neighbouring flocks, disease.
Happy old man ! beneath thy shady trees
Thou mayest repose, in some secluded nook,
By sacred fountain, or by limpid brook;
This side, a hedge, the bound of neighbouring farm,
O'er which, Hyblaean bees, a busy swarm,
Feeding on flowers, a constant humming keep,
Whose drowsy music murmurs thee to sleep.
That side, within some high and rocky cave,
The woodman shouts aloud a merry stave,
Whose silvery tones come ringing from above
Whilst, in the intervals, the turtle-dove
And the wood-pidgeon, thy especial care,
From some tall elm, make musical the air.
TITYRUS.
Sooner shall stags receive the air for food,
Sooner shall seas cast up their finny brood,
Sooner shall Parthiam Arar's water drink,
Or German quench his thirst on Tigris' brink,
Each, to o'errum the other's bounds, inclin'd,
Ere that youth's image vanish from my mind.

MELIBOEUS.
But we, cast forth, to Afric's shore must go,
To Crete some, where Oaxes swift doth flow ;
A part to Scythia, some to Britain's strand,
Britain, disjoim'd from every other land!

ECLOGA I.
Pauperis et tuguri congestum cespite culmen,
Post aliquot, mea regna videns, mirabor aristas !
Impius haec tam culta novalia miles habebit!
Barbarus has segetes ! En, quo discordia civis
Produxit miseros! En, queis consevimus agros!
Insere nunc, Meliboee, pyros; pone ordine vitis.
Ite, meae, felix quondam pecus, ite, capellae.
Non ego vos posthac, viridi projectus in antro,
Dumosa pendere procul de rupe videbo;
Carmina nulla canam; non, me pascente, capellæ,
Florentem cytisum et salices carpetis amaras.
TITYRU S.
Hic tamen hanc mecum poteras requiescere noctem
Fronde super viridi: sunt nobis mitia poma,
Castaneae molles. et pressi copia lactis.
Et jam summa procul villarum culmina fumant,
Majoresque cadunt altis de montibus umbræ.

ECLOGUE I.
Say, shall I ever, after years, forlorn,
To my dear native soil, again return!
Shall I, what most I value, see again,
My owa thatch'd cottage, amid fields of graiu!
Shall some rude soldier hold these fertile lands ?
Some brute upon these cornfields lay bis hands!
Alas, what evils civil discords breed!
And how, for others, have we sown our seed!
Now must my pears be grafted, vines be dress'd.
Away, my goats, away, flock once so bless'd!
No more, as I am lying on the green,
Shall you, above me, on the rock be seen.
No more I'll sing, no more my goats I'll guide
To nibble willows on the river side.
TITYRUS.
This night, at least, you're free with me to pass,
Taking your rest upon the tender grass;
A meal I offer, simple though it seem,
Some mellow apples, chestnuts, curds and cream.
Come, from the village wreaths of smoke ascend
And lengthen'd shadows from the hills descend.


10
HORATIUS.
LIBER I. CARMEN I.
AD MAECENATEM.
Alia alios delectamt: Horatius vero poetæ lyrici nomen affectat
Maecex As, atavis edite regibus,
O et præsidium, et dulce decus meum!
Sunt quos curriculo pulverem Olympicum
Collegisse juvat; metaque fervidis
Evitata rotis, palmaque nobilis,
Terrarum dominos evehit ad Deos:
Hunc, si mobilium turba Quiritium
Certat tergeminis tollere honoribus;
Illum, si proprio condidit horreo,
Quidquid de Libycis verritur areis.
Gaudentem patrios findere sarculo
Agros, Attalicis conditionibus
Nunquam dimoveas, ut trabe Cypria
Myrtoum pavidus nauta secet mare.
Luctantem Icariis fluctibus Africum
Mercator metuens, otium et oppidi
Laudat rura sui: mox reficit rates
Quassas, indocilis pauperiem pati.
Est qui nec veteris pocula Massici,
Nec partem solido demere de die
Spernit, nunc viridi membra sub arbuto


HORACE. 11
BOOK I. ODE I.
TO MAECENAs.
MaecEN As, sprung from line of Kings,
Patron, from whom my welfare springs!
Some men their whole ambition place
I* the dust of an Olympic race;
With fervid axles, swift to roll,
To round, with skilful hand, the goal,
To carry off, from all, the prize,
Elates them to the very skies:
One strives for popularity;
Another satisfied would be,
Could he all Lybia's crops display,
In his own gran'ries stowed away.
The man, content to till and mow
The field his father used to plough,
Unused to ships, could never be
Tempted to cross th' Ægean sea,
Though in a bark of Cyprian make,
And Attalus's wealth the stake.
When Afric's blasts upheave the seas,
The timid merchant loves his ease,
Prefers the country to the town,
And seeks, in peace, to settle down:
But, fearing want and all its cares,
He, soon, his shattered ships repairs.
Some men there are, who ne'er decline
To quaffa cup of Massic wine,
Or, from the day, to steal an hour,
Now, stretch'd beneath some shady bower,

12
HORATIUS. LIBER I. CARMEN I.
Stratus, nunc ad aquæ lene caput sacrae.
Multos castra juvant, et lituo tubae
Permixtus sonitus, bellaque matribus
Detestata. Manet sub Jove frigido
Venator, teneræ conjugis immemor,
Seu visa est catulis cerva fidelibus,
Seu rupit teretes Marsus aper plagas.
Me doctarum ederæ præmia frontium
Dis miscent superis; me gelidum nemus,
Nympharumque leves cum Satyris chori
Secernunt populo; si neque tibias
Euterpe cohibet, nec Polyhymnia
Lesboum refugit tendere barbiton.
Quod si me lyricis vatibus inseris,
Sublimi feriam sidera vertice.

HORACE. BOOK I. ODE I. 13
Protected from the noon-day beam,
Now, by some clear and sacred stream.
Some love the camp, the trumpet's blast,
The stirring thoughts of dangers past,
And their desires do concentrate
On battles, which all mothers hate.
Abroad, the huntsman spends his life,
Unmindful of his tender wife,
Let but a doe appear in view,
Which, close, his faithful hounds pursue;
Or, breaking through his slender snares,
Ifthe rough Marsian boar appears.
I, crowned with ivy, claim as due,
To rank, immortal Gods, with you !
The shady shelter of the grove,
The bands of Nymphs and Fauns that love
To revel in the dance and song,
Detach me from the vulgar throng
If e'er Euterpe sounds her ilute,
Or Polyhymnia her lute.
And, if adjudg'd by thee, to stand
One of the glorious lyric band,
With conscious pride I'll soar on high,
Until my head shall touch the sky !


14 HORATIUS. LIBER I. CARMEN II.
AD AUGUSTUM CÆSAREM.
Dii Romanis irati sunt ob Cæsaris cædem; unica spes imperii
constituitur in Augusto.
Jam satis terris nivis atque diræ
Grandinis misit Pater et rubente
Dextera sacras jaculatus arces,
Terruit urbem;
Terruit gentes, grave ne rediret
Sæculum Pyrrhae, nova monstra questæ,
Omne quum Proteus pecus egit altos
Visere montes;
Piscium et summa genus hæsit ulmo,
Nota quæ sedes fuerat columbis;
Et superjecto pavidæ natarunt
Æquore damæ.
Vidimus flavum Tiberim, retortis
Litore Etrusco violenter undis,
Ire dejectum monumenta Regis,
Templaque Vestæ,
- Iliæ dum se nimium querenti
Jactat ultorem, vagus et sinistra
Labitur ripa, Jove non probante, u-
xorius amnis.
Audiet cives acuisse ferrum,
Quo graves Persae melius perirent;
Audiet pugnas vitio parentum
Rara juventus.


HORACE. BOOK I. ODE II. 15
TO AUGUSTUS.

Enough has Jove, on the devoted land,
Poured hail and snow ; and with his red right hand
Hurled, 'gainst our sacred towers, his fiery brand,
Till Rome has quaked with fear ;

Fear, lest the deluge had return'd again,
When Proteus drove his sea-tribes from the main,
And trembling, sought the mountain tops to gain,
To find a refuge there;
When, o'er the tops of elms, the fish did roam,
Where, once, the dove was wont to make her home;
When, 'mid the raging waves and boiling foam,
Struggled th'affrighted doe.
We've seen the yellow Tiber, with a roar,
Rush back, impetuous, from the Tuscan shore,
Sweep the King's monuments, in ruin, o'er,
And temples prostrate throw;
Whilst the uxorious river, with a boast
That he'd revenge the fate of Ilia lost,
Threw himself, headlong, on the left-hand coast,
Though Jove approved it not.
Our youths, by parents' vices fewer made,
Shall learn the citizens have whet the blade
Which, on the Persians, had been better laid,
And hear of battles fought.

16 HORATIUS. LIBER I. CARMEN II.
Quem vocet Divum populus ruentis
Imperi rebus! prece qua fatigent
Virgines sanctæ minus audientem
Carmina Vestam?
Cui dabit partes scelus expiandi
Jupiter! Tandem venias, precamur,
Nube candentes humeros amictus
Augur Apollo;
Sive tu mavis, Erycina ridens,
Quam Jocus circumvolat et Cupido;
Sive neglectum genus et nepotes
Respicis auctor, |
Heu ! nimis longo satiate ludo;
Quem juvat clamor, galeæque leves,
Acer et Mauri peditis cruentum
Vultus in hostem;
Sive mutata juvenem figura
Ales in terris imitaris, almæ
Pilius Maiæ, patiens vocari
Cæsaris ultor:
Serus in cælum redeas, diuque
Lætus intersis populo Quirini;
Neve te nostris vitiis iniquum
Ocior aura
Tollat; hic magnos potius triumphos,
Hic ames dici PAter atque princeps;
Neu sinas Medos equitare inultos,
Te duce, Cæsar.
—-_—


'HORACE. BOOK I. ODE II. 17
M.
1

To what God shall the Roman people pray
To save the Empire, hastening to decay!
What can the sacred maids to Vesta say,
Who will not deign to hear?
To make atonement, who shall be allow'd?
Come thou, Apollo, come, we cry aloud,
Wrapping thy snowy shoulders in a cloud,
Prophetic God, appear!
Or, if propitious Erycina prove,
Around whom hover Gods of mirth and love,
Or, Mars, if pity for thy sons can move
] Thee, author of our race,

Who, tired of sports, the war-cry lov'st to hear,
To see the burnish'd helm, the gleaming spear
Of Moorish infantry, which does not fear
| Its bloody foe to face:
Or if, wing-footed son of Maia, thou
Wilt take a youthful hero's form and brow,
And the avenger wilt thyself avow
Of Cæsar's mourinful fate,

Be not in haste to take, to heaven, thy way!
Long, with the Roman people, deign to stay!
Nor let disgust, at vices we display,
* Cause thee from us to flee;

But rather let great triumphs be thy meed,
And f Ather, prixcr., be names to thee decreed,
While sure defeat awaits the ruthless Mede
Caesar, if led by thee,
—-—---—
1S HORATIUS. LIBER I. CARMEN III.
AD NAVIM VEHENTEM VIRGILIUM ATHENAS.
Preeatur incolumitatem navi qua Virgilius vehebatur Athenas;
deinde temeritatem hominum detestatur.
Sic te Diva potens Cypri,
Sic fratres Helenæ, lucida sidera,
Ventorumque regat pater,
Obstrictis aliis præter Iapyga,
Navis, quæ tibi creditum
Debes Virgilium, finibus Atticis
Reddas incolumem, precor,
Et serves animæ dimidium meæ.
Illi robur et æs triplex
Circa pectus erat, qui fragilem truci
Commisit pelago ratem
Primus, nec timuit præcipitem Africum
Decertantem Aquilonibus,
Nec tristes Hyadas, nec rabiem Noti,
Quo non arbiter Hadriæ
Major, tollere seu ponere vult freta.
Quem mortis timuit gradum,
Qui siccis oculis monstra natantia,
Qui vidit mare turgidum, et
Infames scopulos Acroceraunia?

HORACE. BOOK I. ODE III. 19
TO THE SHIP WHICH WAS TO CARRY VIRGIL
TO ATHENS.
May the Goddess of Cyprus aid lend thee,
May Helen's twin brothers befriend thee,
And be every ill wind
By its keeper confin'd,
And none but a fair one attend thee,
Good ship, that my Virgil dost bear!
And to Jove I will offer a prayer
That you take safely o'er
To Attica's shore,
A friend who, to me, is most dear.
His breast, all must surely agree,
In triple brass casing must be,
Who, on its first trip,
Did intrust a frail ship
To the risks of the winds and the sea,
Who braved the impetuous breeze,
Who fear'd not the sad Hyades,
Nor of West winds the rage,
Which can raise or assuage,
At pleasure, the wrath of the seas.
Can danger, or death, terrify
The man who, unmoved, can espy
The monsters that creep
In the caves of the deep
And shipwreck can boldly defy?

20 HORATIUS. LIBER I. CARMEN III.
Nequidquam Deus abscidit
Prudens Oceano dissociabili
Terras, si tamen impiae
Non tangenda rates transiliunt vada.
\
Audax omnia perpeti
Gens humana ruit per vetitum nefas.
Audax Japeti genus
Ignem fraude mala gentibus intulit.
- Post ignem aetheria domo
V. Subductum, Macies et nova Febrium
Terris incubuit cohors:
Semotique prius tarda necessitas
Leti corripuit gradum.
Expertus vacuum Dædalus aera
Pennis non homini datis.
Perrupit Acheronta Herculeus labor.
Nil mortalibus arduum est:
Cælum ipsum petimus stultitia; neque
Per nostrum patimur scelus
Iracunda Jovem ponere fulmina.
—-—---—-—
HORACE. BOOK I. ODE III. 21
The lands to divide *tis in vain
That God interposes the main,
If some men there are
Who impiously dare
The opposite regions to gain.
There is nothing that man doth desire
That he wiil not attempt to acquire;
And thus we are told
That Prometheus, of old,
Robb'd Heaven itself of its fire.
And it fatally brought in its train,
Consumption, and Fevers, and Pain,
And Death, which till then
Had come slowly to men,
Now, hastened its victims to gain.
Thus Dædalus ventured on high,
On wings ill adapted to fiy.
There is nothing whate'er
That man will not dare,
Thus, Hercules hell did defy.
In folly, we impiously strove
To scale even Heaven above;
Such offences as these
Cannot, surely, appease,
Or silence the thunders of Jove.


22 HORATIUS. LIBER I. CARMEN IV.
AI) L. SEXTIUM.
Amoenitate veris descripta, et communi moriendi consuetudine
proposita, tanquam Epicureus hortatur Sextium ad voluptuosam
vitam.
Solvitur acris hiems grata vice veris et Favoni,
Trahuntque siccas machinæ carinas;
Ac neque jam stabulis gaudet pecus, aut arator igni;
Nec prata canis albicant pruinis.
Jam Cytherea choros ducit Venus, imminente Luna:
Junctæque Nymphis Gratiae decentes
Alterno terram quatiunt pede, dum graves Cyclopum
Vulcanus ardens urit officinas.
Nunc decet aut viridi nitidu m caput impedire myrto,
Aut flore, terræ quem ferunt solutæ.
Nunc et in umbrosis Fauno decet immolare lucis,
Seu poscat agna, sive malit hædo.
Pallida Mors æquo pulsat pede pauperum tabernas,
Regumque turres. O beate Sexti,
Vitae summa brevis spem nos vetat inchoare longam.
Jam te premet nox, fabulaeque Manes,
Et domus exilis Plutonia: quo simul mearis,
Nec regna vini sortiere talis,
Nec tenerum Lycidan mirabere, quo calet juventus
Nunc omnis, et mox virgines tepebunt.
— -—---—



HORACE. BOOK I. ODE IV. 23
TO L SEXTIUS.
Stern winter o'er, see gentle spring at hand!
Ships, now, no longer left upon the strand,
Are once more launched; the gladsome herds require
The stall no longer, nor the ploughman fire;
No more, by frost, are meadows robed in white,
But Venus leads the dance by Luna's light:
And Nymphs, consorting with the comely Graces,
Make the ground shake 'neath their alternate paces,
Whilst the smith's forge casts its red glare around.
Now, with green myrtle should our brows be bound,
Or with such flowers as deck the well-tilled lawn.
Now is the time to sacrifice to Faun
In shady groves, prepared, as we are bid,
To offer up a lamb, or else a kid.
Death knocks, impartial, at the palace door,
And at the humble cottage of the poor.
Oh happy Sextius ! Our brieflife defies
All trust in aught that in the future lies.
Night comes apace; and thou dost shun in vain
The shades that dwell in Pluto's dark domain.
Once there, no more shalt thou, with dice, decide
Who, at the feast, shall o'er the wine preside.
No more shalt thou young Lycidas admire,
Whose ripening beauty sets our youths on fire,
And who, ere long, will warm with kindred flame,
The tender heart of many a virgin dame.
24 IIORATIUS. LIBER I. CARMEN V.
AD PYRRHAM.
Miseros esse amatores Pyrrhæ propter ejus inconstantiam; se quo-
que, sumpta e mari allegoria, eodem naufragio deprehensum esse.
Quis multa gracilis te puer in rosa
Perfusus liquidis urget odoribus
Grato, Pyrrha, sub antro!
Cui flavam religas comam
Simplex munditiis! Heu, quoties fidem
Mutatosque Deos flebit, et aspera
Nigris æquora ventis
Emirabitur insolens,
Qui nunc te fruitur credulus aurea;
Qui semper vacuam, semper amabilem
Sperat, nescius auræ
Fallacis. Miseri quibus
Intentata nites! Me tabula sacer
Votiva paries indicat uvida
Suspendisse potenti
Vestimenta maris Deo.


IIORACE. BOOK I. ODE V. 25
TO PYRRHA.
Now tell me, Pyrrha, tell me sooth,
Who is the dainty, perfumed youth
Who in that grot, with thee reposes,
Upon a bed bestrew°d with roses!
For whom braid'st thou thy golden hair,
In bright simplicity so fair !
Alas! how oft, will he deplore
The perfidies thou hast in store!
What storms may come, he little knows,
When the wild gust of passion blows!
Nor dreams of anger, rage, and riot,
While he enjoys thee, here, in quiet.
He thinks that thou'lt prove, ever, kind,
Nor change like the inconstant wind!
Ah! woe to those who, thus, confide
In beauties they have never tried!
I, as a votive offering, made
To the great Sea-God, here have laid
My dripping robe to indicate
That I've escaped so sad a fate.


-2(5 HORATIUS. LIBER I. CARMEN VI.
AD AGRIPPAM.
Præclara ejus facta a Vario scribi oportere ; se tanti viri laudibus
canendis imparem esse profitetur; et sic, dum sese excusat, Agrip-
pam delicatissime laudat.
Scriberis Vario fortis et hostium
Victor, Mæonii carminis aliti,
Quam rem cunque ferox navibus, aut equis,
Miles te duce gesserit.
Nos, Agrippa, neque hæc dicere, nec gravem
Pelidæ stomachum cedere nescii,
Nec cursus duplicis per mare Ulixei,
Nec saevam Pelopis domum
Conamur, tenues grandia: dum pudor,
Imbellisque lyræ Musa potens vetat
Laudes egregii Cæsaris, et tuas
Culpa deterere ingeni.
Quis Martem tunica tectum adamantina
Digne scripserit! aut pulvere Troio
Nigrum Merionem? aut ope Palladis
Tydidem Superis parem!
Nos convivia, nos prælia virginum
Sectis in juvenes unguibus acrium
Cantamus, vacui, sive quid urimur
Non præter solitum leves.
HORACE. BOOK I. ODE VI. 27
TO AGRIPPA.
Let Varius thy heroic deeds rehearse
In all the grandeur of Homeric verse,
And tell the glory which, by sea and land,
Our troops have won whilst under thy command.
To such high themes, we do not dare aspire;
Nor yet to sing of dread Achilles' ire,
Crafty Ulysses* wanderings to trace,
Or note the crimes of Pelops' bloody race:
We, humble bards, incline to peaceful lays,
Nor would diminish, by our feeble praise,
The honors due to Caesar and to thee.
Where shall we find one who can, worthily,
Paint Mars, in adamantine armour bright,
Or Meriones, grimed in Trojan fight,
Or Diomed, whom Pallas, by her aid,
To the immortal Gods, an equal made !
I sing of feasts convivial, love, and wine;
Such are the subjects for a muse like mine:
And harmless fights, in which, some girl assails
Her lover's visage, with her close-pared nails.
Thus, whether heart-free, or in love, I be,
1 sing with all my usual levity.
28 HORATIUS. LIBER I. CARMEN VII.
AD MUNATIUM PLANCUM.
Alii laudant alias regiones; Horatio Tibur ante omnes placet; quam
sedem, Planco urbem relinquere volenti, eligendam suadet; eumque
hortatur, quocumque secedat, ad curas vino diluendas.
Laudabunt alii claram Rhodon, aut Mitylenen,
Aut Epheson, bimarisve Corinthi
Moenia, vel Baccho Thebas, vel Apolline Delphos
Insignes, aut Thessala Tempe.
Sunt, quibus unum opus est, intactæ Palladis arces
Carmine perpetuo celebrare, et
Undique decerptam fronti præponere olivam.
Plurimus in Junonis honorem
Aptum dicit equis Argos, ditesque Mycenas.
Me nec tam patiens Lacedæmon,
Nec tam Larissæ percussit campus opimæ,
Quam domus Albuneæ resonantis,
Et præceps Anio, ac Tiburni lucus, et uda
Mobilibus pomaria rivis.
Albus ut obscuro deterget nubila caelo
Sæpe Notus, neque parturit imbres
Perpetuos: sic tu sapiens finire memento
Tristitiam vitæque labores
Molli, Plance, mero: seu te fulgentia signis
Castra tenent, seu densa tenebit
Tiburis umbra tui. Teucer Salamina patremque
HORACE. BOOK I. ODE VII.
29
TO MUNATIUS PLANCUS.
Let some praise Rhodes, or Mitylene,
Or Corinth, built two seas between,
Let Thebes or Delphos lauded be,
Or Tempe, pride of Thessaly!
Let others strive, in endless verse,
The claims of Athens to rehearse,
Thinking the oiive palm to gain
By varying ever, thus, their strain.
Be Argos sung, by Juno claimed,
For gen'rous breed of horses famed,
Or rich Mycenæ. But I say,
In all the beauties these display,
E'en in Larissa's fruitful fields,
Or aught that patient Sparta yields,
There's not a single one that e'er,
In charms attractive can compare
With Tibur's sacred grove, and those
Rife where Albunea's fountain flows,
With Anio plunging headlong o'er,
And orchards water'd from its shore.
As Notus, sometimes, blowing fair,
The sky, from threat'ning clouds will clear,
Preventing thus perpetual rain,
And bringing sunshine out again,
So, ifthou'rt wise, the task be thine
To end all glooim in mellow wine ;
Whether in camp, in arms array'd,
Or in thy own lov'd Tibur's shade.

80 HORATIUS. LIBER I. CARMEN VII.
Quum fugeret, tamen uda Lyæo
Tempora populea fertur vinxisse corona,
Sic tristes affatus amicos:
Quo nos cumque feret melior Fortuna parente,
Ibimus, o socii comitesque.
Nil desperandum Teucro duce et auspice Teucro;
Certus enim promisit Apollo,
Ambiguam tellure nova Salamina futuram.
O fortes, pejoraque passi
Mecum sæpe viri, nunc vino pellite curas:
Cras ingens iterabimus æquor.
CARMEN VIII.
AD LYDIAM.
Notat juvenem Sybarin perditum amore Lydiæ, et colliquefactum
voluptatibus.
Lydia dic, per omnes
Te Deos oro, Sybarin cur properes amando
Perdere! cur apricum
Oderit campum, patiens pulveris atque solis?
Cur neque militaris
Inter æquales equitat; Gallica nec lupatis

HORACE. BOOK I. ODE VII. 81
From Salamis, when Teucer fled,
A poplar wreath, upon his head,
All moist with wine, we're told, he press'd,
And, thus, his downcast friends address'd;
“My brave companions, wheresoe'er
“Fortune, than parent, less severe
“May lead we'll go, and must succeed,
** With Teucer's luck and Teucer's lead.
“That there shall, under other skies,
•*Another Salamis arise,
“Whose name and fame shall match the old,
*Truthful Apollo has foretold;
•*Then, my brave comrades, who, with scorn,
“Much greater ills than these have borne,
“Drown, now, all care in wine, tomorrow we
“Set out once more, upon a boundless sea.
ODE VIII.
TO LYDJA.
Lydia, by all the Gods above,
Say why, with such persistent love,
Dost thou young Sybaris pursue,
And cause his ruin, as you do!
Why, once, inured to dust and heat,
From sun-shine, does he now retreat?

32 HORATIUS. LIBER I. CARMEN VIII.
Temperat ora frenis!
Cur timet flavum Tiberim tangere! cur olivum
Sanguine viperino
Cautius vitat! neque jam livida gestat armis
Brachia, sæpe disco,
Sæpe trans finem jaculo nobilis expedito!
Quid latet, ut marinæ
Filium dicunt Thetidis sub lacrimosa Trojæ
Funera, ne virilis -
Cultus in cædem et Lycias proriperet catervas?
CARMEN IX.
AD THALIARCHUM.
Quo magis hiems sævit, eo magis genio indulgendum esse; omissaque
omni de futuris rebus sollicitudine, præsenti tempore fruendum.
-
Vides, ut alta stet nive candidum
Soracte, nec jam sustineant onus
Silvæ laborantes, geluque
Flumina constiterint acuto.

HORACE. BOOK I. ODE VIII. 33
Why not, as wont in former years,
Ride forth, in arms, among his peers?
Why fears he yellow Tiber's flood,
And wrestler's oil, like viper's blood !
Why are those arms, all black and blue
With manly sports, not bared to view !
Why does he hide, as Thetis' son
Before the war, is said t'have done!
Who, ere Troy's fearful siege began,
Put offthe garments of a man,
For fear, in blood of Lycian bands,
He should be forced t'imbrue his hands.
ODE IX.
TO THALIARCHUS.

Lo, white Soracte, deep in snow,
The streams all bound in icy chains,
The loaded forest, bowing low,
Its frozen burthen scarce sustains.
Shut out the cold and quick prepare
Wood, largely, on thy hearth to throw;

34
HORATIUS. LIBER I. CARMEN IX.
Dissolve frigus, ligna super foco
Large reponens; atque benignius
Deprome quadrimum Sabina,
O Thaliarche, merum diota.
Permitte Divis cætera: qui simul
Stravere ventos æquore fervido
Depræliantes, nec cupressi,
Nec veteres agitantur orni.
Quid sit futurum cras, fuge quærere: et
Quem Fors dierum cumque dabit, lucro
Adpone: nec dulces amores
Sperne, puer, neque tu choreas;
Donec virenti canities abest
Morosa. Nunc et campus, et areæ,
Lenesque sub noctem susurri
Composita repetantur hora:
Nunc et latentis proditor intimo
Gratus puellæ risus ab angulo,
Pignusque dereptum lacertis,
Aut digito male pertinaci.
CARMEN X,
AD MERCURIUM.
Mercurii laudes.
Mercuri, facunde nepos Atlantis,
Qui feros cultus hominum recentum


HORACE. BOOK I. ODE IX. 35
Then, bring out, in a Sabine jar,
Wine that was press'd four years ago.
All else trust to the Gods: for they
Can make the winds and waves be still,
And not one leaf can go astray,
From oak or cypress, if they will.
What chance to-morrow has in store,
Seek mot to know: but let it be
Sufficient that thou mayest score
To-day, as so much gained by thee:
Whilst yet a youth, frequent the dance,
Cast not the joys of love away;
Wait not the eve of life's advance,
Nor till thy head is tinged with gray.
Now, sports, and public walks attend,
And when th'appointed hour is near,
To meet, at eve, some gentle friend,
Go, whisper softly in her ear:
*Tis now the merry laugh assists
The hidden maiden to betray,
When, from her hand, that scarce resists,
Some trinket you can snatch away.


- -
ODE X.
TO MERCURY.
Mercury, sprung from Atlas,great of speech,
Who, artful, first the sons of men didst teach
36 HORATIUS. LIBER I. CARMEN X.
Voce formasti catus, et decoræ
More palestrae:
Te canam, magni Jovis et Deorum
Nuntium, curvaeque lyrae parentem;
Callidum, quidquid placuit, jocoso
Condere furto.
Te, boves olim nisi reddidisses
Per dolum amotas, puerum minaci
Voce dum terret, viduus pharetra
Risit Apollo.
Quin et Atridas, duce te, superbos,
Ilio dives Priamus relicto,
Thessalosque ignes et iniqua Trojæ
Castra fefellit.
Tu pias lætis animas reponis
Sedibus, virgaque levem coerces
Aurea turbam, superis Deorum
Gratus et imis.
CARMEN XXXVIII.
AD PUERUM.
Persicos odi, puer, apparatus;
Displicent nexæ philyra coronae;
Mitte sectari, rosa quo locorum
Sera moretur.

HORACE. BOOK I. ODE X. 37
The use of words, and then
To wrestle with their fellow men:
Thee, messenger of Jove and Gods, I sing,
Parent and patron of the tuneful string;
Who all things can command
To disappear, by slight of hand.
Who, when Apollo vowed he'd use the rod,
Unless the oxen, stolen from the God,
Thou did'st again deliver,
Contriv'd, meanwhile, to steal his quiver:
At which he laugh'd. *Twas by thy guidance led,
That wealthy Priam, when from Troy he fied,
Through watch-fires, unperceiv'd,
The sons of Atreus deceiv'd.
The souls of pious men, in blissful land
Thou lead'st, and marshal'st with thy golden wand
The airy shades, thus well
Pleasing both powers of Heaven and Hell.
ODE XXXVIII.
TO HIS SERVANT.
Boy, I detest all fuss and preparation,
Such as the Persians, at their feasts delight in;
I want no garlands, neatly tied, though made of
Summer's last roses.

38 HORATIUS. LIBER I. CARMEN XXXVIII.
Simplice myrto nihil adlabores
Sedulus curæ; neque te ministrum
Dedecet myrtus, neque me sub arcta
Vite bibentem.
CARMEN XXX.
sibi ipse immortalitatem vaticinatur.
Exegi monumentum ære perennius,
Regalique situ pyramidum altius;
Quod non imber edax, non Aquilo impotens
Possit diruere, aut innumerabilis
Annorum series, et fuga temporum.
Non omnis moriar; multaque pars mei
Vitabit Libitinam. Usque ego postera
Crescam laude recens, dum Capitolium
Scandet cum tacita Virgine pontifex.
Dicar, qua violens obstrepit Aufidus;
Et qua pauper aquæ Daunus agrestium
Regnavit populorum, ex humili potens,
Princeps AEolium carmen ad Italos
Deduxisse modos. Sume superbiam
Quæsitam meritis, et mihi Delphica
Lauro cinge volens, Melpomene, comam.

HORACE. BOOK I. ODE XXXVIII. :39
All thou need'st bring me is the simple myrtle
Which to thy calling is not unbecoming,
And which becomes me, 'neath my vine reclining,
Quietly drinking.
----
BOOK III. ODE XXX.
A monument more durable than brass,
Whose height doth e'en the pyramids surpass,
I have erected; no rude blast it fears,
Nor the dread series of corroding years;
Against it time shall wield his scythe in vain.
I shall not wholly die: there shali remain
My better part, which Fate itself shall spare,
And future fame my name shall proudly bear,
Long as the priest the Capitol ascends,
And on his steps the silent Maid attends.
Where Aufidus runs rushing through the plain,
Where shallow Daunus holds his rustic reign,
I, humbly born, have been the first to sing
AEolic verses on th'Italiam string.
With well-earned pride, Melpomene, come thou
And bind the Delphic laurel on my brow.
- •*-*-*-»-»-»-»-»-

40 HORATIUS. LIBER I. CARMEN XXII
AD ARISTIUM FUSCUM.
Virum probum ubique tutum probat exemplo suo poeta.
Integer vitae sceleri sque purus
Non eget Mauris jaculis, neque arcu,
Nec venenatis gravida sagittis,
Fusce, pharetra:
Sive per Syrtes iter æstuosas,
Sive facturus per inhospitalem
Caucasum, vel quæ loca fabulosus
Lambit Hydaspes.
Namque me silva lupus in Sabina,
Dum mcam canto Lalagen, et ultra
'1'erminum curis vagor expeditis,
Fugit inermem.
Quale portentum neque militaris
l)aunias latis alit æsculetis,
Nec Jubæ tellus generat leonum
Arida nutrix.
Pone me, pigris ubi nulla campis
Arbor æstiva recreatur aura;
Quod latus mundi nebulæ malusque
Jupiter urget:
Pone sub curru nimium propinqui
Solis, in terra domibus negata.
Dulce ridentem Lalagen amabo,
Dulce loquentem.
HORACE BOOK I. ODE XXII. 41
TO ARISTIUS FUSCUS.
He who is honest, and of life unblemish'd,
Stands not in need of Moorish bow or javºlin,
Nor hath he need to fill with poisoned arrows,
Fuscus, his quiver:
Whether he wanders o'er the sultry Syrtes,
Or on the barren Caucasus, or whether
Fortune conducts him to the places wash'd by
Famous Hydaspes.
Thus, as I wander'd in the Sabine forest,
Singing in praise of Lalage, and musing,
Lo! a wolf starting, on a sudden fled from
Me, though defenceless.
Monster so frightful Daunia never nourish'd
In its deep forests, nor has parch'd Numidia
Ever bred beast as savage, uhough reputed
Nurs'ry of iions.
Place me in regions ne'er so rude and barren,
Where tree has never felt the breeze of summer,
Where clouds are threat'ning, and the very air is
Foul and inclement:
Place me on soil where solar rays are scorching
On desert waste, where there is not a dwelling,
Still will I love sweet Lalage when smiling,
Sweet, too, when speaking.
— =•:-= … =3= —

42 HORATIUS. LIBER II. CARMEN III.
AD QUINTUM DELLIUM.
Mederate ferendam esse utramque fortunam, et imprimis hilariter
vivendum, quum omnibus impendeat moriendi conditio.
Æquam memento rebus in arduis
Servare mentem, non secus in bonis
Ab insolenti temperatam
Lætitia, moriture Delli,
Seu moestus omni tempore vixeris,
Seu te in remoto gramine per dies
Festos reclinatum bearis
Interiore nota Falerni.
Qno pinus ingens albaque populus
Umbram hospitalem consociare amant
Ramis, et obliquo laborat
Lympha fugax trepidare rivo:
Huc vina, et unguenta, et nimium brevis
Flores amoenos ferre jube rosæ,
Dum res et ætas et Sororum
Fila trium patiuntur atra.
Cedes coemtis saltibus et domo,
Villaque, flavus quam Tiberis lavit;
Cedes; et extructis in altum
Divitiis potietur haeres.
Divesne prisco natus ab Inacho,
Nil interest, an pauper et infima
De gente sub divo morieris,
Victima nil miserantis Orci.
HORACE. BOOK II. ODE III. 43
TO QUINTUS DELLIUS.
Whate'er the lot assign'd to you by fate,
Be not depressed, nor yet too much elate,
But with a mind unmoved and free,
Meet and fulfil your destiny.
You have to die; whether your life you pass
In grief, or whether on the mossy grass
Secluded, you at ease recline,
Enjoying choice Falernian wine;
Where the pale poplar and the spreading pine
In hospitable shade, their boughs entwine,
Where water, from the murm'ring brook,
Runs rippling towºrds some shady nook,
Have wine brought out, and ointments for the brow,
While yet the Fates. and wealth, and youth allow,
And flowers, and perfumes, chiefly those
Of the too transitory rose.
From those tall groves, along whose sloping side
The yellow Tiber's silent waters glide,
You soon must part: and leave those fair
And rich possessions to your heir.
It naught avails you, whether, nobly born,
You live in wealth, or needy and forlorn,
Since you are destined soon or late,
To yield to unrelenting fate.

44 HORATIUS. LIBER II. CARMEN III.
Omnes eodem cogimur: omnium
Versatur urna serius ocius
Sors exitura, et nos in æternum
Exilium impositura cymbæ.
LIBER II. CARMEN XVI.
AD GROSPHUM.
Animi tranquillitatem non opibus aut honoribus, sed eorum
contemtu comparari.
Otium Divos rogat in patenti
Prensus Ægæo, simul atra nubes
Condidit lunam, neque certa fulgent
Sidera nautis;
Otium bello furiosa Thrace;
Otium Medi pharetra decori,
Grosphe, non gemmis, neque purpura ve-
nale, neque auro.
Non enim gazae, neque consularis
Submovet lictor miseros tumultus
Mentis, et curas laqueata circum
Tecta volantes.
HORACE. BOOK II. ODE III. 45
The wheel is turning, and we each, in turn,
Must get our summons from the fatal urn;
And the boat waits to take us o'er,
In endless exile, to the Stygian shore.
BOOK II. ODE XVI.
TO GROSPHUS.
Toss'd on the broad Ægean sea,
While moon and stars emit no ray
To guide the sailor on his way,
He prays for rest.
For rest, prays also warlike Thrace;
For rest the Mede, that rest and peace
Which neither gold nor jewels place
Within our reach.
For neither wealth nor lordly state
Can e'er the mental cares abate,
Which, e'en in mansions of the great,
Are hovering'round.

46 HORATIUS. LIBER II. CARMEN XVI.
Vivitur parvo bene, cui paternum
Splendet in mensa tenui salinum:
Nec leves somnos Timor, aut Cupido
Sordidus aufert.
Quid brevi fortes jaculamur ævo
Multa! quid terras alio calentes
Sole mutamus! patriæ quis exsul
Se quoque fugit!
Scandit æratas vitiosa naves
Cura; nec turmas equitum relinquit,
Ocior cervis, et agente nimbos
Ocior Euro.
Lætus in præsens animus quod ultra est
Oderit curare, et amara lento
Temperet risu. Nihil est ab omni
Parte beatum.
Abstulit clarum cita mors Achillem,
Longa Tithonum minuit senectus:
Et mihi forsan, tibi quod negarit,
Porriget Hora.
Te greges centum Siculæque circum
Mugiunt vaccæ; tibi tollit hinnitum
Apta quadrigis equa; te bis Afro
Murice tinctæ
Vestiunt lanæ: mihi parva rura et
Spiritum Graiæ tenuem Camenæ
Parca non mendax dedit, et malignum
Spernere vulgus.
HORACE. BOOK II. ODE XVI. 47
He lives on little, yet is blest,
Whose frugal board is plainly drest,
He loses mot, from fear, his rest,
Nor sordid lust.
Does it man's short career become,
In lands, 'neath other suns, to roam!
Can he expect, by leaving home,
T*escape himself!
In brass-beak'd ships, care still we find,
Swift as the cloud-dispelling wind,
Swifter than stags, it mounts behind
The horseman's seat.
A cheerful mind will never fret,
At what the future may beget;
For mortal man was never yet
Completely blest.
Achilles, young, was doomed to die,
Long life was Tithon's destiny;
Thus, what the Fates, to thee deny,
May hap to me.
Great herds are in thy fields contained,
Of cows, and mares to harness trained;
And garments, twice in purple stained,
Thou dost possess:
To me some acres, few, belong,
A little love of Greciam song,
And for the rude and vulgar throng,
Profound contempt,

48 HORATIUS. LIBER III. CARMEN I.
Non opibus aut honoribus, sed animi tranquillitate vita beata
efficitur.
Odi profanum vulgus et arceo;
Favete linguis: carmina non prius
Audita Musarum sacerdos
Virginibus puerisque canto.
Regum timendorum in proprios greges,
Reges in ipsos imperium est Jovis,
Clari giganteo triumpho,
Cuncta supercilio moventis.
Est, ut viro vir latius ordinet
Arbusta sulcis; hic generosior
Descendat in Campum petitor;
Moribus hic meliorque fama
Contendat: illi turba clientium
Sit major: æqua lege Necessitas
Sortitur insignes et imos;
Omne capax movet urna nomen.
Destrictus ensis cui super impia
Cervice pendet, non Siculæ dapes
Dulcem elaborabunt saporem,
Non avium citharæque cantus
Somnum reducent. Somnus agrestium
Lenis virorum non humiles domos
Fastidit, umbrosamve ripam,
Non Zephyris agitata Tempe.
HORACE. BOOK III. ODE I. '49
I hate and spurn the vulgar throng;
List ye in silence to my song:
Priest of the Muses, I rehearse,
To youthfui maids and boys, a verse
Which never has been heard before.
Dread Kings are cloth'd with sov*reign power,
And, thus, their subjects, placed above,
But Kings themselves are ruled by Jove,
Great Jove, the giant-conquering God,
Who shakes all nature by a nod.
Some men, of trees, in formal rows
A greater number will dispose;
Some, in the Campus forth have stood
As candidates, of nobler blood;
Whilst others will prefer a claim
To purer lives and greater fame:
This one more clients "round him sees:
But Death, by stern yet just decrees,
At the appointed hour is sure
To both conspicuous and obscure;
Revolving, the capacious urn
Keeps moving every name in turn.
Sicilian dainties relish lack
For him, above whose impious neck
A naked sword impends; the lyre,
And song of birds, in vain conspire,
How sweet soe'er a strain they keep,
To lull him peacefully to sleep.
Sleep, gentle sleep, that spurneth not
The husbandman's secluded cot,
Nor shady bank, nor Tempe's seat
Which Zephyr's breezes agitate.

j0 HORATIUS. LIBER III. CARMEN I.
Desiderantem, quod satis est, neque
Tumultuosum sollicitat mare,
Nec saevus Arcturi cadentis
Impetus, aut orientis Haedi:
Non verberatae grandine vineae,
Fundusve mendax, arbore nunc aquas
Culpante, nunc torrentia agros
Sidera, nunc hiemes iniquas.
Contracta pisces aequora sentiunt
Jactis in altum molibus; huc frequens
Cæmenta demittit redemtor
Cum famulis, dominusque terræ
Fastidiosus: sed Timor et Minæ
Scandunt eodem, quo dominus: neque
Decedit aerata triremi, et
Post equitem sedet atra Cura.
Quod si dolentem nec Phrygius lapis,
Nec purpurarum sidere clarior
Delenit usus, nec Falerna
Vitis, Achæmeniumve costum:
Cur invidendis postibus et novo
Sublime ritu moliar atrium !
Cur valle permutem Sabina
Divitias operosiores!

HORACE. BOOK III. ODE I. 51
He, whom enough doth satisfy,
Cares not for stormy seas or sky,
Nor ills Afturus' setting sends,
Northose the rising Kid portends.
What though his vines be rent by hail,
What though his every crop should fail,
He grieves not that his trees are lost
By drought, or flood, or wintry frost.
Foundations, deep in ocean laid,
And which the finny tribes invade,
Contract their realm; for oft, cement
With many a workman, down is sent,
Whilst, at their head, their chief doth stand,
As though disdainful of the land:
But threats of evil, doubts, dismay
Mount, likewise, by the self same way:
Care haunts the brass-beak'd galley's track,
Care sits behind the horseman's back.
Since Phrygian marble fails t'impart
A solace to the wounded heart,
Since use of purple, though it far
Outshine the brightness of a star,
And perfumes Persia doth produce,
And of Falernian vine the juice,
Are all incapable, we find,
To soothe the troubles of the mind,
Why should I stately structures raise,
Pillar'd in style of modern days !
Why should I change my Sabine farm
For riches, fraught with so much harm !

52 HORATIUS. LIBER III. CARMEN XVI.
AD MAECENATEM.
Divitias malorum omnium fontem esse, summum vitæ bonum
in mediocritate consistere.
Inclusam Danaen turris ahenea,
Robustæque fores, et vigilum canum
Tristes excubiae munierant satis
Nocturnis ab adulteris:
Si non Acrisium, virginis abditæ
Custodem pavidum, Jupiter et Venus
Risissent: fore enim tutum iter et patens
Converso in pretium Deo.
Aurum per medios ire satellites,
Et perrumpere amat saxa potentius
Ictu fulmineo: concidit auguris
Argivi domus, ob lucrum
Demersa exitio: diffidit urbium
Portas vir Macedo, et subruit æmulos
Reges muneribus: munera navium
Sævos illaqueant duces.
Crescentem sequitur cura pecuniam,
Majorumque fames. Jure perhorrui
Late conspicuum tollere verticem,
Maecenas, equitum decus.
Quanto quisque sibi plura negaverit,
Ab Dis plura feret. Nil cupientium
Nudus castra peto, et transfuga divitum
Partes linquere gestio,




HORACE. BOOK III. ODE XVI. 53
TO MAECENAS.
A brazen tower, an oaken door,
And faithful dogs to watch it o'er,
Might have imprison'd Danae kept
From foul pollution, while she slept,
But that the wily am'rous Jove
Conspiring with the Queen of Love,
Laughing, in scorn, the guards derided
Anxious Acrisius had provided:
For well they knew, through walls of brass,
Ifturned to gold, the God could pass.
Through armèd sentries, gold can go,
It lays the strongest structures low,
For to its touch a power is given,
More potent than the bolt of heaven:
The Grecian augur owed, we're told,
The downfal of his house, to gold:
Philip, with gold, threw open gates,
With gold, subverted rival states;
Gold draws, e'en sailors, in its snare.
As gold increases, so does care,
Gold, still, a thirst for more excites.
Maecenas, flower of Roman knights,
It is with reason that I dread
To raise a too conspicuous head.
The less we labor to obtain,
The more, from Heaven, we're apt to gain.
Denuded, *tis my earnest thought,
To rank with those who ask for naught,
54 HORATIUS. LIBER III. CARMEN XVI.
Contemtae dominus splendidior rei,
Quam si, quidquid arat impiger Appulus,
Occultare meis dicerer horreis,
Magnas inter opes inops.
Purae rivus aquæ, silvaque jugerum
Paucorum, et segetis certa fides meæ,
Fulgentem imperio fertilis Africæ
Fallit sorte beatior.
Quamquam nec Calabræ mella ferunt apes,
Nec Læstrygonia Bacchus in amphora
Languescit mihi, nec pinguia Gallicis
Crescunt vellera pascuis;
Importuna tamen Pauperies abest;
Nec, si plura velim, tu dare deneges.
Contracto melius parva cupidine
Vectigalia porrigam,
Quam si Mygdoniis regnum Alyattei
Campis continuem. Multa petentibus
Desunt multa. Bene est, cui Deus obtulit
Parca, quod satis est, manu.

HORACE. BOOK III. ODE XVI. 55
Being richer, in my scorn for gain,
Than if my granºry did contain !
All that Appulia grows of grain.
Yet, while exulting o'er my store,
E'en in the midst of plenty, poor.
My murm'ring streamlet, pure and deep,
The golden crops I hope to reap,
My grove, though small, so fresh and green,
Are blessings granted me, I ween,
Unknown to him who holds the sway
0'er all of fertile Africa.
Though no Calabrian bees have I,
No wine, in Formian jars laid by,
Although no sheep of choicest breed,
For me, in Gallic pastures feed,
Yet I am not oppressed by want,
Else, what I needed, thou would'st grant.
But my desires, restricted so,
Make my small income further go,
Than if all Lydia's lands were mine,
Extended to the Phrygian line.
Who ask for much, much still will want
And blest is he, on whom, with scant
And sparing hand, the Gods do pour
What is enough---and nothing more.
-—=—= c*>w=3= —

56 HORATIUS. EPODON LIB. CARM XV.
AD NEAERAM.
Hujus perjuria queritur, rivalique suo eadem vaticinatur.
Nox erat, et coelo fulgebat Luna sereno,
lnter minora sidera,
Quum tu, magnorum numen læsura Deorum.
In verba jurabas mea,
Arctius, atque hedera procera adstringitur ilex,
Lentis adhærens brachiis;
Dum pecori lupus, et nautis infestus Orion
Turbaret hibernum mare,
Intonsosque agitaret Apollinis aura capillos,
Fore hunc amorem mutuum.
O dolitura mea multum virtute Neaera !
Nam si quid in Flacco viri est,
Non feret assiduas potiori te dare noctes,
Et quæret iratus parem;
Nec semel offensæ cedet constantia formæ,
Si certus intrarit dolor.
At tu, quicunque es felicior, atque meo nunc
Superbus incedis malo,
Sis pecore et multa dives tellure licebit,
Tibique Pactolus fluat,
Nec te Pythagorae fallant arcana renati,
Formaque vincas Nirea;
Eheu ! translatos alio moerebis amores:
Ast ego vicissim risero.

HORACE. EPODES. ODE XV. 57
TO NEAERA.
*Twas night, the moon, on her etherial throne,
Among the lesser stars, resplendent shone,
When, mursing falsehood in your heart, you flung
Your pliant arms around my neck, and clung
Close as the ivy hugs the stately oak,
And called the Gods to witness what you spoke;
Long as the wolf pursues the timid flocks,
Or the air fans Apollo's unshorn locks,
Long as Orion's influence shall be
Fatal to sailors, on a wintry sea,
So long, you said, and made a solemn vow,
Your love should prove as warm and true as now.
Oh how, some day, you will in sorrow pine
That you were faithiess to a love like mine !
For if in Flaccus there be manhood still,
He'll never, brook that to a rival's will,
Your nights be given, but will seek around,
If one who's more congenial can be found.
Then, though true sorrow should invade your soul,
Your charms shall never his just wrath control.
But, as for you, whoever you may be,
Happier than I, who strut, and simile to see
My sad mishap, though countless herds be yours,
And though, its golden tide, Pactolus pours
Into your coffers, though a second youth,
With Nireus' beauty, should be yours, in sooth,
You'll find, ere long. that she will prove untrue,
Then, it will be my turn to laugh at you.



5S OVIDIUS
METAMORPHOSEON.
LIBER XV. v. DCCCLXXI
Jamque opus exegi, quod nec Jovis ira, nec ignes,
Nec poterit ferrum, nec edax abolere vetustas.
Quum volet illa dies, quæ nil, nisi corporis hujus
Jus habet, incerti spatium mihi finiat ævi:
Parte tamen meliore mei super alta perennis
Astra ferar, nomenque erit indelebile nostrum;
Quaque patet domitis Romana potentia terris,
Ore legar populi, perque omnia secula fama,
Si quid habent veri vatum præsagia, vivam.


OVID.
5
9
METAMORPHOSES.
13OOK XV. [LINE DCCCLXXI.
I have achieved a work, which not the ire
Of Jove, the sword, the hand of time, nor fire
Can e'er destroy. Come when it will the hour
Which, o'er this mortal frame alone, has power,
My better part, set free, on high shall soar,
And Ovid's name endure for evermore.
In every land that owns the Roman sway,
The eager crowd will flock to hear my lay;
And if *tis true, the Gods to poets give
The power of prophecy, I still shall live.


{50 MARTIALIS.
LIBER VI, EPIGRAMMA XIX.
IN POSTHUMUM, CAUSIDICUM.
Non de vi, neque cæde, nec veneno,
Sed lis est mihi de tribus capellis:
Vicini queror has abesse furto.
Hoc judex sibi postulat probari.
Tu Cannas, Mithridaticumque bellum,
Et perjuria Punici furoris,
Et Sullas, Mariosque, Muciosque
Magna voce sonas, manuque tota.
Jam dic, Posthume, de tribus capellis.
LIBER X. EPIGRAMMA XXXI.
IN CALLIODORUM.
Addixti servum nummis, here, mille trecentis,
Ut bene coenares, Calliodore, semel;
Nec bene coenasti: mullus tibi quatuor emptus
Librarum coenae pompa caputque fuit.
Exclamare libet: non est hic, improbe non est
Piscis; homo est: hominem, Calliodore, voras.

MARTIAL. 61
BOOK VI. EPIGRAM XIX.
M0IDERNIZEID.
ON LAWYER * * * * *
*Tis neither for battery, murder, nor poison,
I now go to law; but those devilish boys on
My neighbour's estate, have been robbing my fold,
And stolen three goats. Now you justly are told
By's lordship to prove it: and straightway you spout
Of Bonaparte, Wellington, Waterloo's rout,
George Canning, Lord Castlereagh, Prince Talleyrand,
You throw up your arms, and you thump with your hand,
And bellow as though you had got fifty throats,
Now do, my dear sir, say a word of my goats.
— _ __ —
BOOK X, EPIGRAM XXXI,
ON CALLIODORUS.
Calliodorus, when you sold
Your slave, that with the ill got gold,
You, on a dainty meal, that night,
Might sate your rav'nous appetite,
First on your table, stood a dish.
On which there lay a splendid fish,
A four pound mullet: now I say,
No fish upon that table lay:
Your conscience you were, simply, cheating,
Sir, *twas a man that you were eating.
— •-----
62 MARTIALIS.
LIBER I. EPIGRAMMA LXXIII.
IN FIDENTINUM, PLAGIARIUM.
Nostris versibus esse te poetam,
Fidentine, putas, cupisque credi.
Sic dentata sibi videtur AEgle,
Emptis ossibus, Indicoque cornu.
Sic, quæ nigrior est cadente moro,
Cerussata sibi placet Lycoris,
Hac et tu ratione, qua poeta es,
Calvus cum fueris, eris comatus.
LIBER III. EPIGRAMMA X,
IN PHILOMUSUM.
Constituit, Philomuse, pater tibi millia bina
Menstrua, perque omnes præstitit illa dies,
Luxuriam premeret cum crastina semper egestas,
Et vitiis essent danda diurna tuis.
Idem te moriens heredem ex asse reliquit:
Exheredavit, te, Philomuse, pater.
MARTIAL. 63
BOOK I. EPIGRAM LXXIII.
ON FIDENTINUS, A PLAGIARIST.
You steal, Fidentinus, my verses, and know it,
And think by this means to be reckon'd a poet;
So AEgle, whenever she looks in the glass,
For Teeth. thinks the Bones she has purchased will pass;
Lycoris, thus, black as a mulberry, quite,
By using pearl powder, imagines she's white.
By this mode of reasoning, if poet you're call'd.
What a fine head of hair you may boast of when bald.
—---—
BOOK III. EPIGRAM X.
ON PHILOMUSUS.
An allowance, per month, of two thousand sesterces,
(Much more than 1 get for the best of my verses.)
Your father agreed, Philomusus, to pay,
A portion of which you received every day,
With certainty. too, that next morning, he'd send
Supplies for the wants that were sure to attend
The reckless and dissolute life that you led;
For one day, at least, thus. your vices were fed,
But now he is dead, having left you his all;
On whom, Philomusus. for aid, can you call!
To leave you to beg, the good man was unwilling;
He might, just as well, not have left you a shilling.
__-_-
MARTIALIS.
LIBER I. EPIGRAMMA CX.
DE CATELLA PUBLII.
Issa est passere nequior Catulli.
Issa est purior osculo columbæ.
Issa est blandior omnibus puellis.
Issa est carior Indicis lapillis.
Issa est deliciæ catella Publi.
Hanc tu, si queritur, loqui putabis.
Sentit tristitiamque, gaudiumque,
Collo nixa cubat, capitque somnos,
Ut suspiria nulla sentiantur:
Et desiderio coacta ventris
Gutta pallia non fefellit ulla;
Scd blando pede suscitat, toroque
Deponi monet, et rogat levari,
Castæ tantus inest pudor catellæ,
lgnorat Venerem ; nec invenimus
Dignum tam tenera virum puella.
Hanc ne lux rapiat suprema totam,
Picta Publius exprimit tabella;
In qua tam similem videbis lssam,
Ut sit tam similis sibi nec Issa.
Issam denique pone cum tabella,
Aut utramque putabis esse veram,
Aut utramque putabis esse pictam.


MARTIAL. 65
BOOK I. EPIGRAM CX.
ON PUBLIUS* BITCH ISSA.
More brisk than the sparrow Catullus doth love
Is Issa, and purer than kiss of the dove.
And Issa is gentler than any young girl.
And Issa's more precious than Indian pearl,
And Issa is Publius' favorite pet.
Whenever she whines, that she spoke you would bet.
The grief of her master she notes by her wail;
His joy she partakes of by wagging her tail,
She leans on his neck, when she lies down to doze,
And so very still is the creature's repose,
You can't for your life hear her drawing her breath;
She could not be quieter, even in death.
If callºd on by nature, so well is she bred,
There's not the least fear of her soiling the bed:
But gently she'II scratch, with her soft tiny foot,
As much as to say, ** let me go out to do't.”
She knows naught of love, and so chaste is the creature,
No dog can be found, who is worthy to teach her.
Now, Publius, lest she should suddenly die,
Her portrait has taken, and hung it on high;
In which, the resemblance so strongly doth strike,
That Issa herself to herself*s not more like;
And, placed by each other, you cannot tell which
Is the portrait of Issa, and which is the bitch.

— -----
66 MARTIALIS.
LIBER IV. EPIGRAMMA XXII.
DE CLEOPATRA UXORE.
Primos passa toros, et adhuc placanda marito,
Merserat in nitidos se Cleopatra lacus,
Dum fugit amplexus: sed prodidit unda latentem;
Lucebat totis quum tegeretur aquis.
Condita sic puro numerantur lilia vitro:
Sic prohibet teneras gemma latere rosas.
Insilui, mersusque vadis luctantia carpsi
Basia: perspicuæ plus vetuistis aquæ.

MARTIAI.. 67
BOOK IV. EPIGRAM XXII.
ON HIS WIFE CLEOPATRA.
Fresh from the nuptial couch, excited still,
By her sweet contest with her husband's will,
Fair Cleopatra, flying from my arms,
In the clear lake, attempts to hide her charms;
But, far from hiding, the transparent wave
But brighter makes the charms which nature gave.
Thus, in a vase of glass, are lilies seen;
Thus, roses blush behind a crystal screen.
Flushed by remembrance of my recent bliss,
Sudden, I plunged, and snatched a struggling kiss,
While to my heart I pressed my blushing bride.
The tell-tale waters, more than this denied.

6S
MARTIALIS.
LIBER VI. EPIGRAMMA XXX.
IN PAETUM.
Sex sestertia si statim dedisses,
Quum dixti mihi, sume, tolle, dono;
Deberem tibi, Paete, pro dudentis.
At nunc quum dederis diu moratus,
Post septem, puto, vel novem kalendas,
Vis dicam tibi veriora veris!
Sex sestertia, Pæte, perdidisti.
LIBER II. EPIGRAMMA XLI.
IN MAXIMINAM, PUELLAM EDENTULAM.
Ride, si sapis, o puella, ride,
Pelignus, puto, dixerat Poeta:
Sed non dixerat omnibus puellis.
Verum ut dixerit omnibus puellis,
Non dixit tibi; tu puella non es:
Et tres sunt tibi, Maximina, dentes,
Sed plane piceique, buxeique.
Quare si speculo mihique credis,
Debes non aliter timere risum,
MARTIAL. 69
BOOK VI. EPIGRAM XXX.
ON PAETUS.
Had you, at once, laid down the V,
And said, Here, take this sum from me,
Pætus, I should have thought me, then,
lndebted to you ten times ten,
Now, you confer the obligation,
After whole weeks of hesitation,
And still expect my thanks, forsooth !
Now, do you wish to hear the truth !
You may not think it very funny,
But, Pætus, you have lost your money.
BOOK II. EPIGRAM XLI.
ON MAXIMINA, A TOOTHLESS MAIDEN.
Laugh, maiden, laugh, ifthou art wise;
Thus, the Pelignian Poet cries:
But not to all, is this address'd,
Or if to all, not thee, at least,
Who can't be said a maid to be;
Whose teeth, now, number only three
Yellow as box, with pitchy crust:
And, Maximina. if thou'lt trust
Thy glass or me, thou'lt fear as much
To laugh, as Priscus fears the touch,
LIBER II. EPIGRAMMA XLI.
Quam ventum Spanius, manumque Priscus:
Quam cretata timet Fabulla nimbum,
Cerussata timet Sabella solem.
Vultus indue tu magis severos,
Quam conjux Priami, nurusque major.
Mimos ridiculi Philistionis,
Et convivia nequiora vita,
Et quidquid lepida procacitate
Laxat perspicuo labella risu.
Te mœstæ decet assidere matri.
Lugentique virum, piumque fratrem,
Et tantum tragicis vacare Musis.
At tu, judicium secuta nostrum,
Plora, si sapis, o puella, plora.
LIBER III. EPIGRAMMA LVIII.
AD BASSUM, DE VILLA FAUSTINI.
Baiana nostri villa, Basse, Faustini,
Non otiosis ordinata myrtetis,
Viduaque platano, tonsilique buxeto
Ingrata lati spatia detinet campi:
Sed rure vero barbaroque laetatur.
Hic farta premitur angulo Ceres omni,
Et multa fragrat testa senibus autumnis.
Hic post Novembres, imminente jam bruma,
Seras putator horridus refert uvas.
BOOK II. EPIGRAM XLI. 71
TO
Spanius the wind, Fabulla rain,
Lest her pearl-powder prove in vain:
And every smile thou'lt, careful, shun
As daubed Sabella does the sun.
But rather wear a look more sad
Than Priam's wife or daughter had.
Go not to see Philistion play,
From merry comrades keep away,
Let no droll jests or cutting quips
Betray thee to unclose thy lips.
But go condole with mourning mothers,
With widowed wives, bereavèd brothers;
Go to see none but doleful plays,
And if our judgment with thee weighs,
And thou would'st know what we advise,
Weep, maiden, weep, ifthou art wise.
- -
BOOK III. EPIGRAM LVIII.
BASSUS, ON FAUSTIN*S FARM.
Bassus, our Faustin's Baian farm
Owes not, to vast extent, its charm;
There, no trim box or plane-tree grows,
Or useless myrtle, set in rows;
But *tis a truly rural seat.
In every corner, stacks of wheat:
And vats, "round which sweet odours lurk
Suggestive of October's work.
The full-ripe grapes, ere frosts begin,
The rough vine-dresser gathers in;
n2 LIBER III. EPIGRAMMA LVIII.
Truces in alta valle mugiunt tauri,
Vitulusque inermi fronte prurit in pugnam.
Vagatur omnis turba sordidæ cortis,
Argutus anser, gemmeique pavones,
Nomenque debet quæ rubentibus pennis,
Et picta perdix, Numidicæque guttatæ,
Et impiorum phasiana Colchorum.
Rhodias superbi feminas premunt galli;
Sonantque turres plausibus columbarum,
Gemit hinc palumbus, inde cereus turtur.
Avidi sequuntur villicae sinum porci;
Matremque plenam mollis agnus expectat.
Cingunt serenum lactei focum vernæ,
Et larga festos lucet ad Lares sylva.
Non segnis albo pallet otio caupo;
Nec perdit oleum lubricus palæstrita:
Sed tendit avidis rete subdolum turdis;
Tremulave captum linea trahit piscem,
Aut impeditam cassibus refert damam.
Exercet hilares facilis hortus urbanos,
Et pædagogo non jubente, lascivi
Parere gaudent villico capillati;
Et delicatus opere fruitur eunuchus.
Nec venit inanis rusticus salutator:
Fert ille ceris cana cum suis mella,
Metamque lactis: Sassinate de silva
Somniculosos ille porrigit glires;
Hic vagientem matris hispidæ fœtum;
Alius coactos non amare capones;
Et dona matrum vimineo ferunt texto
BOOK III. EPIGRAM LVIII. 73
Down in the valley, bulls are lowing,
And hornless calves pugnacious growing:
The barn yard holds a feathered throng;
Geese, whose harsh cry is like the gong ;
The peacock, gem-tail'd, vain and smart;
The bird whose ruby wings impart
Its name: and while are also heard
The partridge and the guinea-bird,
And pheasants. in far Colchis bred,
Proud cocks their Rhodian hens do tread.
With amºrous sounds the dove-cote rings,
And rival champions flirt their wings.
Here, the wood-pigeon sighs his love,
There, coos the yellow turtle-dove.
The pigs, the farm-girl's steps pursue,
The anxious lambs await the ewe.
Disposed around a cheerful fire,
Sit the house-maids, in white attire.
No lazy tapster, here, grows pale,
Nor well-oil'd wrestler's efforts fail.
Each day they set their snares abroad,
Or take the fish with quiv'ring rod,
Or, home, of venison bring a load.
To this gay garden cits repair ;
And wantom boys, with flowing hair,
Unbid, the farmer's work will do;
E'en dainty eunuchs labour too,
No tenant comes to merely bow,
But brings some gift: white honey now,
Or else a cheese: one dormice has,
Brought from the wood of Sassinas;
One brings a kid, his zeal to prove,
Or capon, forced t'abstain from love;
74 LIBER III. EPIGRAMMA LVIII.
Grandes proborum virgines colonorum.
Facto vocatur lactus opere vicinus,
Nec avara servat crastinas dapes mensa;
Vescuntur omnes, ebrioque non novit
Satur minister invidere convivac.
At tu sub urbe possides famem mundam,
Et turre ab alta prospicis meras laurus,
Furem Priapo non timente securus.
Et vinitorem farre pascis urbano,
l'ictamque portas otiosus ad villam
Olus, ova, pullos, poma, caseum, mustum.
Rus hoc vocari debet, an domus longe!

BOOK III. EPIGRAM LVIII. 75
Tall girls, in wicker baskets bring
Gifts of their mothersº offering,
Then, when the day has closed its labour,
A feast is set out for the neighbour;
Where servants, fed like all the rest,
See naught to envy in the guest.
You've a suburbam home, so poor,
No need 'gainst thieves to bar your door;
Afar, some clumps oflaurel green
Can, from the house-top, just be seen.
You bring, from town, the very bread
On which you and your man are fed;
Whilst poultry, apples, eggs, and cheese,
And vegetables, too, with these,
You carry to your cottage down;
Call you this country ! — or else — out of town !

MARTIALIS.
LIBER III. EPIGRAMMA XLVII.
AD FAUSTINUM, DE VILLA BASSI.
Capena grandi porta qua pluit gutta
Phrygiæque Matris Almo qua lavat ferrum,
Horatiorum qua viret sacer campus,
Et qua pusilli fervet Herculis fanum
Faustine, plena Bassus ibat in rheda,
Omnes beati copias trahens ruris,
Illic videres frutice nobili caules,
Et utrumque porrum, sessilesque lactucas,
Pigroque ventri non inutiles betas.
Illic coronam pinguibus gravem turdis,
Leporemque læsum Gallici canis dente,
Nondumque victa lacteum faba porcum.
Nec feriatus ibat ante carrucam,
Sed tuta fœno cursor ova portabat.
Romam petebat Bassus ? imo rus ibat.

MARTIAL. 77
BOOK III. EPIGRAM XLVII.
TO FAUSTIN, ON BASSUS*S FARM.
Near the Capena gate, adown whose wall,
In gath'ring drops, the dripping waters fall,
Close by the spot, on which, in Almo's wave,
The priests of Cybele their weapons lave,
Near the famed field, by the Horatii won,
Where basks the fane of Herc'les, in the sum,
Bassus, my Faustin, passed along the road,
His chariot bearing an enormous load
Of all the products a rich country sheds;
There, you saw cabbages with monstrous heads,
Leeks, of both sorts, dwarf lettuce, beets, as food
For costive bellies said to be so good,
Here, hung a string of thrushes, plump and round
There, a fat hare, caught by gallic hound,
Here, too, there might a sucking pig be seen,
Whose toothless gums had not yet crush'd a bean.
And, not exempt, his servant led the way,
Carrying eggs pack'd, carefully, in hay.
Perhaps, you think that he was bound to town,—
"Twas to his farm, all this was going down.

C. VALERIUS CATULLUS,
CARMEN V
AD LESBIAM.
Vivamus, mea Lesbia, atque amemus,
Rumoresque senum severiorum
Omnes unius æstimemus assis.
Soles occidere et redire possunt;
Nobis, quum semel occidit brevis lux,
Nox est perpetua una dormienda.
I)a mi basia mille, deinde centum;
Dein mille altera, dein altera centum;
Dein usque altera mille, deinde centum :
Dein, quum millia multa fecerimus,
Conturbabimus illa, ne sciamus,
Aut ne quis malus invidere possit,
Quum tantum sciat esse basiorum.

C. VALERIUS CATULLUS. 79
SONG V.
TO LESBIA.
I.et us, my Lesbia, live and love,
Nor estimate one groat above,
The sneers of old and envious men.
The sun may set and rise again,
But when is quench'd our feeble light,
We sleep in everlasting night.
Let's kiss a thousand times, and more,
A thousand still and then five score;
A thousand yet, a humdred still,
And thousands more, my love, until
We've so embroil'd the operation,
Beyond the power of calculation,
That none may know, and we forget,
How many times our lips have met.

80
CLAUDIANUS.
EPIGRAMMA II.
pr. sf. x *. vERoN r.xsi, qui suburbuM NUNQUAM
Eo, RF.ssus EsT.
Felix, qui patriis ævum transegit in agris,
Ipsa domus puerum quem videt, ipsa senem;
Qui baculo nitens, in qua reptavit arena,
Unius numerat sæcula longa casæ.
lllum non vario traxit Fortuna tumultu;
Nec bibit ignotas mobilis hospes aquas.
Non freta mercator tremuit, non classica miles:
Non rauci lites pertulit ille fori.
Indocilis rerum, vicinæ nescius urbis,
Adspectu fruitur liberiore poli.
Frugibus alternis, non consule, computat annum;
Auctumnum pomis, ver sibi flore, notat.
Idem condit ager soles, idemque reducit:
Metiturque suo rusticus orbe diem:
Ingentem meminit parvo qui germine quercum,
CLAUDIAN, EPIGRAM II. 81
oN AN or.d viAN of vERoNA, who h Ad Nevf.r
BEEN FR0M H0ME.
Happy the man, whom Heaven decrees
To pass his life, at home, in ease;
Who, in the house that saw his birth,
Finds, in old age, a peaceful hearth:
Who, leaning on his staff, can see
The places where, in infancy,
He crept: and looking back, recals
The years he spent within those walls.
Him Fortune tempts not, nor can bring
To venture at its unknown spring;
He does not know the merchant's fears;
The trumpet's blast ne'er smote his ears;
Nor is it his unlucky fate
To hear the lawyer's loud debate.
He, heedless of the city's noise,
A purer atmosphere enjoys.
He, by his crops, computes his dates,
And not by Roman consulates.
When fruits are ripe, he autumn knows,
He knows *tis spring, when buds the rose.
The same field sees the rising sun,
Which hides it when its course is run,
And by the circuit ofits ray
The farmer regulates his day.
What time the oak, now grown so tall,
Was a mere germ, he can recal,
-
S2 CLAUDIANUS. EPIGRAMMA II.
Æquaevumque videt consenuisse nemus:
Proxima cui nigris Verona remotior Indis,
Benacumque putat litora Rubra lacum.
Sed tamen indomitae vires, firmisque lacertis
Ætas robustum tertia cernit avum,
Erret, et extremos alter scrutetur Iberos,
Plus habet hic vitae, plus habet ille viæ.
SENECA.
CHORUS EX ACTU II THYESTIS.
Tandem regia nobilis
Antiqui genus Inachi,
Fratrum composuit minas.
Quis vos exagitat furor,

CLAUDIAN, EPIGRAM II. S8
And views his groves with greater pride,
That they have grown old side by side.
Verona's suburbs though so near,
To him, like distant Ind appear;
And lake Benacus, sooth, might be,
For him, the far Arabian sea;
His strength unworn, his arms still strong,
His children's children 'round him throng.
Let others, then, forsake their home,
And over distant countries roam;
He will have had, beyond all cavil,
Much more of life, — they more oftravel.
SENECA.
CHORUS FROM THE SECOND ACT OF
THYESTES.
At length, these royal sons of Greece
Have bid fraternal discords cease.
Why should two brothers, thus, have stood,
Each thirsting for the other's blood !

84 SENECA. CHORUS EX THYESTE.
Alternis dare sanguinem,
Et sceptrum scelere aggredi?
Nescitis cupidi arcium,
Regnum quo jaceat loco.
Regem non faciunt opes,
Non vestis Tyriæ color,
Non frontis nota regiæ,
Non auro nitidæ trabes.
Rex est, qui posuit metus,
Et diri mala pectoris:
Quem non ambitio impotens,
Et nunquam stabilis favor
Vulgi præcipitis movet;
Non quidquid fodit Occidens;
Aut unda Tagus aurea
Claro devehit alveo:
Non quidquid Lybicis terit
Fervens area messibus.
Quem non concutiet cadens
Obiiqni via fulminis:
Non Eurus rapiens mare;
Aut sævo rapidus freto
Ventosi tumor Adriæ:
Quem non lancea militis,
Non strictus domuit chalybs:
Qui tuto positus loco,
lnfra se videt omnia:
Occurritque suo libens
Fato, nec queritur mori.
Reges conveniant licet,
Qui sparsos agitant Dacas;
SENECA. CHORUS FROM THYESTES s5
Why strive a sceptre to obtain,
Which they, by crime alone, could gain !
Are ye so blind as not to see
In what consists true royalty !
In pomp and wealth it does not lie,
Nor in fine robes of Tyrian dye;
Nor in a crown upon the brow,
Nor palaces of gorgeous show.
He is a King who knows no fear;
Whose mind from evil thought is clear,
Whom vain ambition cannot move,
Nor the inconstant people's love;
Nor all the gold the West can shed,
Or Tagus washes in its bed:
Nor ali from Lybia's harvests ground,
Or in its teeming gran'ries found.
Whom the dread flash that rends the sky
Can neither daunt nor terrify:
Nor the rude gales which agitate
The stormy Adriatic strait.
Who quails not at the warrior's spear,
Nor the drawn blade beholds with fear;
Who, placed above his fellow men,
Looks down on worldly things as vain.
Who meets his fate with steadfast eye,
Nor grieves that he should have to die,
*Gainst him, the chiefs of Scythian lands
Would vainly join their wandering bands:
Vain, likewise, would the efforts be,
Of those who wander near the sea,
86 SENECA. CHORUS EX THYESTE.
Qui rubri vada littoris:
Aut gemmis mare lucidum
Late sanguineum tenent:
Aut qui Caspia fortibus
Recludunt juga Sarmatis;
Certet Danubium licet,
Audet qui pedes ingredi;
Et quocumque loco jacent
Seres vellere nobiles:
Mens regnum bona possidet.
Nil ullis opus est equis;
Nil armis; et inertibus
Telis, quæ procul ingerit
Parthus, cum simulat fugas;
Admotis nihil est opus
Urbes sternere machinis,
Longe saxa rotantibus;
Rex est, qui metuit nihil.
Hoc regnum sibi quisque dat.
Stet, quicumque volet potens
Aulæ culmine lubrico:
Me dulcis saturet quies.
Obscuro positus loco,
Leni perfruar otio.
Nullis nota Quiritibus
AEtas per tacitum fluat.
Sic cum transierint mei
Nullo cum strepitu dies,
Plebeius moriar senex.
SENECA. CHORUS FROM THYESTES s;
Whose waters wear a tint of red
Reflected from its jewelled bed.
Against him, it were labour lost,
To arm Sarmatia's warlike host,
From the dark Danube's side, to pour
The hordes that dwell upon its shore,
Or e'en against him to combine
The Seres, famed for f!eeces fine.
His strength is in a dauntless heart.
He needs no sword, no steed, no dart
Such as, upon his foeman's track,
The flying Parthian showers back.
No engine, to his aid, he calls,
No catapult to batter walls.
He is a King, and he alone,
Who fears no man, and envies none.
Such is, indeed a glorious reign,
Which, for himself, each one can gain.
Let others climb the slippery height,
Where honors, wealth, and power invite,
To these, 1 care not who aspire,
Repose is all that I desire;
That I may rest im peace, secure,
I ask to lead a life obscure,
That I may, thus, in silence pass
Unnoticed by the busy mass,
And free from bustle, care, and strife.
And, when at last, my peaceful life
Has lasted its allotted span,
I'll die, a simple, private man.
- -
CIIORUS EX TIIY ENTE.
SENECA.
Illi mors gravis incubat,
( Qui notus nimis omnibus,
Ignotus moritur sibi.
LIBER
BOETIIIUS.
I. METRUM VII.
Nubibus atris
Condita nullum
Fundere possunt
Sidera lumen.
Si mare volvens
Turbidus Auster
Misceat aestum,
Vitrea dudum ,
Parque serenis
Unda diebus,

SENECA, CHORUS FROM THYESTES. s9
For heavy lies the hand of death,
As he exhales his dying breath.
Upan That Man, who too much known,
Dies, stranger to himselfalone.
BOETHIUS.
BOOK I. MEASURE VII.
When rolling clouds,
Like sable shrouds,
The stars o'erspread,
No light they shed.
When the South breeze
Disturbs the seas,
And stirs the sand
Upon the strand,
The wave, which was
As bright as glass,

90
METRUM VII.
BOETHIUS. LIBER I.
Mox resoluto
Sordida coeno,
Visibus obstat.
Quisque vagatur
Montibus altis
Defluus amnis,
Sæpe resistit
Rupe soluti
Objice saxi.
Tu quoque si vis
Lumine claro
Cernere verum,
Tramite recto
Carpere callem;
Gaudia pelle,
Pelle timorem,
Spemque fugato,
Nec dolor adsit.
Nubila mens est,
Vinctaque frænis,
Hæc ubi regnant.

BOETHIUS. BOOK I. MEASURE VII. 91
Or as a ray
Of sunny day,
Now turbid quite
Shuts out the sight.
The stream that sweeps
Down mountain steeps,
Finds rocks that may
Obstruct its way.
So should'st thou yearn
Truth to discern.
And would'st the true
Straight path pursue,
Shun joy and fear,
Hope, and despair ;
Where these we find,
They cloud the mind,
Which then remains
Fast bound in chains.

BOETHIUS.
LIBER I. METRUM IV.
Quisquis composito serenus ævo,
Fatum sub pedibus dedit superbum,
Fortunamque tuens utramque rectus,
lnvictum potuit tenere vultum;
Non illum rabies, minæque ponti
Versum funditus excitantis æstum,
Nec ruptis quoties vagus caminis
Torquet fumificos Vesevus ignes,
Aut celsas soliti ferire turres
Ardentis via fulminis movebit.
Quid tantum miseri feros tyrannos
Mirantur sine viribus furentes?
Nec speres aliquid, nec extimescas:
Exarmaveris impotentis iram:
At quisquis trepidus pavet, vel optat,
Quod non sit stabilis, suique juris,
Abjecit clypeum, locoque motus
Nectit, qua valeat trahi, catenam.

BOETHIUS. 93
BOOK I. MEASURE IV.
He who his life so regulates
That he may calmly brave the Fates,
Who with stern eye, unruffled, sees
What Fortune, good or bad, decrees,
Cannot be daunted by the roar
Of Ocean dashing on the shore,
Nor by the burning, molten tide
That rushes down Vesuvius' side,
Nor by the forkèd brand that falls
From Heaven, on lofty towers and halls.
Why should the fiercest tyrant's ire
Your anxious minds with fear inspire!
Have no desire, no fear of harm,
And the worst tyrants you disarm:
But they who shake with terrors vain,
Or still some fond wish entertain,
Lose all the power of self command,
And hence, unfit to make a stand,
Desert their post, throw down their shield,
Unstable, leave the battle field,
And with their own base hands prepare
The chains which they are doomed to wear.

BOETHIUS.
LIBER III. METRUM VIII.
Eheu, quam miseros tramite devio
Abducit ignorantia!
Non aurum in viridi quæritis arbore,
Nec vite gemmas carpitis;
Non altis laqueos montibus abditis,
Ut pisce ditetis dapes;
Nec vobis capreas si libeat sequi,
Tyrrhena captatis vada.
Ipsos quinetiam fluctibus abditos
Norunt recessus æquoris,
Quae gemmis niveis unda feracior,
Vel quæ rubentis purpurae;
Nec non quae tenero pisce, vel asperis
Praestent echinis littora.
Sed quonam lateat quod cupiunt bonum,
Nescire cæci sustinent:
Et quod stelliferum trans abiit polum,
Tellure demersi petunt.
Quid dignum stolidis mentibus imprecer?
Opes, honores ambiant,
Et cum falsa gravi mole paraverint,
Tum vera cognoscant bona.

BOETHIUS.
9
5
BOOK III. MEASU RE VIII.
Alas, what ignorance leads man astray
And from the true path keeps him, thus, away ?
Do you e*er look for gold upon a tree,
Or on the vine. bright gems expect to see?
Would you your nets, upot, a mountain, cast,
In hopes to catch a fish for your repast!
Or would you chase the wild and timid doe,
On the wide waste where Tuscan waters flow!
Men know full well, though hidden by the waves,
Where lie the richest gem-containing caves;
Where the most prized and tend'rest fish abound,
And where the deepest, brightest purple's found;
But yet, they will, without a blush, confess
They know not where to look for happiness.
And stooping earthward, seek, with eager eyes,
For that which lies beyond the starry skies.
Which shall we ask, of all just Heaven's decrees,
As punishment for stolid minds like these!
Let them, great wealth, and honors, power, and state,
With anxious care, and toil, accumulate,
And, whilst they blindly the wrong path pursue,
Find out, too late, that they have missed the true.

96 EX VITA VIRGILII,
Gloriae vero adeo contemtor fuit: quum quidam versus
quosdam sibi adscriberent, eaque re docti haberentur,
non modo aegre non ferebat, immo voluptuosum id illi erat.
Quum enim distichon, quod laudem felicitatemque Augus-
ti continebat, fecisset, valvisque non nominato auctore af-
fixisset, ( id erat ejusmodi:
Nocte pluit tota, redeunt spectacula mane:
Divisum imperium cum Jove Cæsar habet.)
diu quæritans Augustus, cujusnam hi versus essent eorum
auctorem non inveniebat. Bathyllus vero poeta quidam
mediocris, tacentibus aliis, sibi adscripsit: quamobrem do-
natus honoratusque a Cæsare fuit. Quod æquo animo non
ferens Virgilius, iisdem valvis affixit quater hoc principi-
um: “ Sic vos non vobis. " Postulat Augustus ut hi versus
complerentur: quod quum frustra aliqui conati essent, Vir-
gilius, præposito disticho, sic subjunxit.
Hos ego versiculos feci: tulit alter honores:
Sic vos non vobis nidificatis aves,
Sic vos non vobis vellera fertis oves.
Sic vos mon vobis mellificatis apes.
Sic vos non vobis fertis aratra boves.
Quo cognito, aliquandiu Bathyllus Romæ fabula fuit, Maro
vero exaltatior.
FROM THE LIFE OF VIRGIL. 97
He had so little vanity, that when certain persons pas-
sed themselves off as authors of some verses of his, there-
by getting credit for cleverness, not only he was not ann-
oyed by it, but rather thought it a good joke. But having
written, and posted on the palace doors, without the au-
thor's name, a distich, containing praises of Augustus, (in
these words:
It rains all night, but sports return by day:
Thus Cæsar holds, with Jove, alternate sway.)
Augustus tried a long time, but in vain, to find out whose
the verses were. No one claiming them, a certain Bathyl-
lus, an indifferent poet, assumed the authorship, and in
consequence, received gifts and honors from Cæsar. Virgil
provoked thereat, affixed to the same doors, this begin-
ning of a line, four times repeated, ** For others thus ”.
Augustus requested that the lines should be completed,
which many, in vain, attempted. Virgil, having first ins-
cribed the distich, added as follows:
I wrote the lines, another reaps the fame:
For others thus, the birds their nests prepare.
For others thus, the sheep their fleeces bear.
For others thus, the bees their honey yield,
For others thus, the oxen plough the field.
Which becoming known, Bathyllus was laughed at, whilst
Maro was held in higher estimation.
— — ---—
9S
THOMAS MUSCONIUS.
OBSECRATIO,
IN VICTORIAM UXOREM DAVALI.
Non vivam, sine te, mi Brute, exterrita dixit
Porcia, ut ardentes sorbuit ore faces.
Te, Davale, extincto dixit Victoria, vivam
Perpetuo moestos sic dolitura dies.
Utraque Romana est; sed in hoc Victoria victrix,
Perpetuo hæc luctus sustinet, illa semel.
MARIÆ SCOTORUM REGINÆ
IN CARCERE, ASCRIPTA.
O Domine Deus,
Speravi in te.
O care mi Jesu,
Nunc libera me.
In dura catena,
In misera poena,
Desidero te.
Languendo, gemendo,
Et genuflectendo,
Adoro, imploro
Ut liberes me.
THOMAS MUSCONIUS. 99
ON VICTORIA THE WIFE OF DAVALUS.
** I'll not survice thee, Brutus," Potcia cried,
And to her mouth the fatal brand applied.
Davalus dead, •* I'll live,” Victoria says,
“ To endless grigf devoting all my days.”
True Romans both ; but she truest wife,
Wnose grief endures; the other's ends with life.
PRAYER ATTRIBUTED TO MARY QUEEN
OF SCOTS, WHILST IN PRISON.
Oh heavenly Father,
My trust is in thee.
Oh Jesus my saviour,
Now liberate me.
In fetters and chain,
In anguish and pain,
I cry unto thee !
And kneeling before thee,
My God 1 adore thee,
And pray and implore thee,
To liberate me.
100 BOETHIUS.
BOOK III. MEASURE VIII.
AFTER THE MANNER OF MAGINN.
Alas, how men, in error's way
Abducit ignorancia!
You do not look for gold on trees,
Nec vite gemmas carpitis;
Nor would you nets on mountains place
Ut pisce ditetis dapes;
Nor, if you wish a goat to slay,
Tyrrhena captatis vada.
Although, by waves, it hidden is,
Norunt recessus æquoris,
That where the brightest gems do lay,
Vel quæ rubentis purpuræ,
Where the best fish, and where they say
Præstent echinis littora.
But where to look to find content,
Nescire cæci sustinent:
What they, beyond the stars, should hunt,
Tellure demersi petunt.
For such, what scourge shall Heaven grant?
Opes, honores ambiant,
And when false joys they've gather'd, ah
Tum vera cognoscant bona.

TRANSLATIONS
FROM THE FRENCH
INTO ENGLISH, AND FROM ENGLISH
INTO FRENCH.
106
IDYLE.
PAR ANDRÉ CHÉNIER.
LA LIBERTÉ.
UN CHEVRIER. UN BERGER.
I.E CHEVRIER.
Berger, quel est tu donc ! qui t'agite! et quels dieux
De noirs cheveux épars enveloppent tes yeux ?
1. E B ERGER,
Blond pasteur de chevreaux, oui, tu veux me l'apprendre,
Oui, ton front est plus beau, ton regard est plus tendre.
I. E C H E. VRIE. F*.
Quoi ! tu sors de ces monts où tu n'as vu que toi,
Et qu'on n'approche point sans peine et sans effroi !
I.E. H E RG F. I'.
Tu te plais mieux sans doute aux bois, à la prairie:
Tu le peux. Assieds-toi parmi 1'herbe fleurie;


107
FREEDOM.
A PASTORAL.
BY ANDRÉ CHÉNIER.

A G0 ATHERID. A SHEPHERID
G0 ATHERID.
Shepherd, who art thou ' why that gloomy air?
Tnat restless eye, that loose and tangled hair?
s HIEPHIE RI).
Goatherd, thou hast, I know as well as thou,
A look more tender and a smoother brow.
G0 ATHERI).
So, from those hills, which few have dared to tread,
Thou hast descended, and hast hither sped !
S HIE PHIE RI).
Doubtless, thou lov'st in groves thy life to pass,
Or, stretched at ease, upon the tender grass,


10S ANDR £ CHÉNIER.
Moi, sous um antre aride, en cet affreux séjour,
Je me plais sur le roc à voir passer le jour.
I.E. (* HE VIRIE R.
Mais Cérès a maudit cette terre âpre et dure;
Un noir torrent pierreux y roule une onde impure;
Tous ces rocs calcinés, sous un soleil rongeur,
Brülent et font häter les pas du voyageur.
Point de fleurs, point de fruits, nul ombrage fertile
N y donne au rossignol un balsamique asile.
Quelque olivier au loin, maigre fécondité,
Y rampe et fait mieux voir leur triste nudité.
Comment as-tu donc su d'herbes accoutumées
Nourrir dans ce désert tes brebis affamées !
I.E BERGER.
Que m'importe! est-ce à moi qu'appartient ce troupeau?
Je suis esciave.
I.E CIIIE, VIRIE R.
Au moins un rustique pipeau
A-t-il chassé l'ennui de ton rocher sauvage ?
Tiens, veux-tu cette flúte ! Elle fut mon ouvrage.
Prends: sur ce buis, fertile en agréables sons,
Tu pourras des oiseaux imiter les chansons.

I.E B E RGE P.
Non; garde tes présents. I.es oiseaux de ténèbres,
1,a chouette et l'orfraie, et leurs accents funèbres,
Voilà les seuls chanteurs que je veuille écouter:
\ oilà quelles chansons je voudrais imiter.


ANDRÉ CHÉNIER. 109
'Mid blooming flowers: I in that horrid clime,
On the bare rock, prefer to pass my time,
o, 0 ATHIE RI).
'T is a most savage region, parch'd and poor,
Through which a torrent pours a stream impure;
Where calcined rocks, beneath a scorching sun,
Are made too hot for feet to tread upon.
No flowers are there, no fruits; no cooling shade
Has, for the mightingale, a refuge made.
Perchance some olive tree its head may raise,
Whose stunted growth the barrenness displays.
How was it possible thou could'st succeed,
In such a waste, thy famish'd sheep to feed!
s HIE PHIE RI).
What do I care ! They don't belong to me !
I am a slave.
coATH F. R I)
Has not some melody,
At times, dispeiied the gioom around the rock,
On whose rough side, reposed thy weary flock !
Here, take this flute ; it is my handiwork ;
Within its tube, and * round its vents do lurk
Such dulcet tones as birds themselves might own.

s H E. PHIE RI).
No. keep thy gifts ; the birds of night, alone,
The owl, and osprey, are the songsters drear,
Whose dismal notes are suited to my ear:
Such is the music I prefer. Thy flute
Would soon be cast and trodden under foot.


1I0 ANDR £ CHÉNIER.
Ta flúte sous mes pieds serait bientòt brisée:
Je hais tous vos plaisirs. Les fleurs et la rosée,
Et de vos rossignols les soupirs caressans,
Rien ne plait à mon coeur, rien ne flatte mes sens;
Je suis esclave.
I.E CHEVRIE R.
Hélas ! que je te trouve à plaindre!
Oui, l'esclavage est dur; oui, tout mortel doit craindre
De servir, de plier sous une injuste loi;
De vivre pour autrui, de n'avoir rien à soi.
Protège-moi toujours, ô liberté chérie !
O mère des vertus, mère de la patrie !
LE BERGER.
Va, patrie et vertu ne sont que de vains noms.
Toutefois, tes discours sont pour moi des affronts:
Ton prétendu bonheur et m'afflige et me brave;
Comme moi, je voudrais que tu fusses esclave.

I. E. C HIE. VRIE R.
Et moi, je te voudrais libre, heureux comme moi.
Mais les dieux n'ont-ils point de remède pour toi?
Il est des baumes doux, des lustrations pures
Qui peuvent de notre âme assoupir les blessures,
Et de magiques chants qui tarissent les pleurs.



ANDRÉ CHÉNIER. 111
I hate your mirth. The flow'rs, the dew, the notes
Which nightingales pour from their little throats,
All fail to please my senses or my heart.
I am a slave.
G0 ATHERID.
I grieve to hear thou art!
Yes, hard is bondage, every man must dread,
Beneath its cursèd law to bow his head;
For such injustice, what cam e'er atone !
To live for others, calling naught your own !
Oh Liberty, thou source of good to all,
Our country's mother, upon thee I call,
Source of all virtues, deign to hear my pray'r,
Shield me, and be my native land thy care!
SHE PHERID.
Bah, native land ! what interest can it claim,
And what is virtue but an empty name !
Thy seeming welfare like a boast appears,
And what thou say est grates upon my ears,
As though intended for an insult grave;
I would to Heav'n, thou too, had'st been a slave !
G0 ATHERI).
And I, so far from wishing ill to thee,
Would have thee happy, as I am, and free.
But have the Gods no balm, which to thy grief
Might yet afford some comfort and relief!
There are such balms, there are lustrations pure,
Which tend to heal the wounds that we endure.
To dry our tears is there no magic strain !

1 12 ANDRÉ CHÉNIER
I. E. BERGE, IR.
Il n'en est point; il n'est pour moi que des douleurs:
Mon sort est de servir, il faut qu'il s'accomplisse,
Moi, j'ai ce chien aussi qui tremble à mon service ;
C'est mon esclave aussi. Mon désespoir muet
Ne peut rendre qu'à lui tous les maux qu'on me fait.
I.E CIIE. VRIE. I*.
La terre, notre mère, et sa douce richesse
Sont-elles sans pouvoir pour bannir ta tristesse !
Vois la belle campagne! et vois l'été vermeil,
Prodigue de trésors, brillants fils du soleil,
Qui vient, fertile amant d'une heureuse culture,
Varier du printemps 1'uniforme verdure;
Vois 1'abricot naissant, sous les yeux d'un beau ciel,
Arrondir son fruit doux et blond comme le miel;
Vois la pourpre des fleurs dont le pêcher se pare,
Nous annoacer l'éciat des fruits qu'il nous prépare.
Au bord de ces prés verts regarde ces guérets,
De qui les blés touffus, jaunissantes forets,
Du joyeux moissoaneur attendent la faucille.
D'agrestes déités quelle noble famille !
La Récolte et la Paix, aux yeux purs et sereins,
Les épis sur le front, les épis dans la main,
Qui viennent, sur les pas de la belle espérance,
Verser la corne d'or où fleurit l'abondance.
I. E. H E R G E. R.
Sans doute qu'à tes yeux elles montrent leurs pas,
Moi, j'ai des yeux d'esclave et je ne les vois pas.

ANDRÉ CHÉNIER. 113
SHEPHERID.
I know of none, I know but grief and pain:
I'm doomed to serve: alas, I have no choice.
True, I've this dog, who trembles at my voice ;
He is my slave; and my despair, though mute
Can but revenge my wrongs upon the brute.
G0 ATHE RI).
The earth, our mother, and its rich display,
Have they no power to chase thy gloom away ?
See the green fields: lo summer has begun
To shed its gifts, bright children of the sun,
Born of the labour industry doth bring,
Varying the green monotony of spring.
See how the apricot, beneath the rays
Of a hot sun, its swelling form displays;
See the pink blossoms which the peach tree wears,
The rosy heralds of the fruit it bears.
Lo, the green meadows, lovely to behold,
Look at the fields, whose crops of waving gold
The merry reaper and his scythe await.
And see where, passing in majestic state,
The rustic Gods approach, a noble band!
Harvest, and Peace whose eye. so soft and bland,
A calm serenity around us spreads,
Garlands of yellow wheat upon their heads,
Wheat in their hands; while Hope who goes before,
From Plenty's horn, pours out its precious store.
SHE PHIE RI).
Doubtless, thy fancy hath this vision wrought;
I have a slave's eyes and I see it not.

114 ANDRÉ CHÉNIER.
Je n'y vois qu'un sol dur, laborieux, servile,
Que j'ai, non pas pour moi, contraint d'être fertile;
Où, sous un ciel brûlant, je moissonne le grain
Qui va nourrir un autre et me laisse ma faim.
Voilà quelle est la terre. Elle n'est point ma mère,
Elle est pour moi marâtre; et la nature entière
Est plus nue à mes yeux, plus horrible à mon coeur,
Que ce vallon de mort qui te fait tant d'horreur.
I.E CHE VIRIE R.
Le soin de tes brebis, leur voix douce et paisible,
N'ont-ils donc rien qui plaise à ton âme insensible ?
N'aimes-tu point à voir les jeux de tes agneaux !
Moi, je me plais auprès de mes jeunes chevreaux;
Je m'occupe à leurs jeux; j'aime leur voix bélante;
Et quand sur la rosée et sur 1'herbe brillante
Vers leur mère en criant je les vois accourir,
Je bondis avec eux de joie et de plaisir.
I.E BERGER.
Ils sont à toi: mais moi j'eus une autre fortune;
Ceux-ci de mes tourments sont la cause importune.
Deux fois, avec ennui, promenés chaque jour,
Un maitre soupgonneux nous attend au retour.
Rien ne le satisfait: ils ont trop peu de laine ;
Ou bien ils sont mourauts, ils se träinent à peine;
En un mot. tout est mal. Si le loup quelquefois
En saisit un, I'emporte et s'enfuit dans les bois,
C'est ma faute: il fallait braver ses dents avides.
Je dois rendre les loups innocents et timides.
Et puis menaces, cris, injure, emportements,
Et lâches cruautés qu'il noimrme châtiments.

ANDRÉ CHÉNIER 115
I only see a hard and barren soil,
Which I've compelled, by dint of weary toil
To yield such crops, as it might yet produce,
Not for my own, but for another's use;
From which I've gather'd in a scorching heat,
What feeds another, whilst I've naught to eat!
Such is the earth, no mother she to me,
A step-one rather. she's more like to be.
All nature seems more naked, to my heart,
Than the nude vale, whose horrors make thee start.
G0 ATHERI).
Do not thy sheep's sweet bleating, their control,
Possess the power to please thy harden'd soul!
Dost thou not love to see thy lambkins play !
1'd have my goats be by me all the day !
I love their sports, I love their plaintive baas!
And when, upon the fresh and dewy grass,
A kid, leap up to join its dam, I view,
I straightway leap with joy and pleasure too.
S HIE PHIE RI).
Ah, they are thine; my lot is more unkind,
ln these, a source of constant care I find:
Twice every day, t'incounter I am sure,
A hard, suspicious master. at the door.
Nothing doth please him: they are scant of wool,
Or else they're dying. or are sick and dull:
In ome word all goes wrong : and if some day,
A wolf should chance to carry one away,
*Twould be my fault, I should have held his jaws,
Or made the wolves obedient to the laws!
Then follow threats, and injuries, and brawls,
\nd cruelties, which chastisement he calls.

116 ANDRÉ CHÉNIER.
I.E CHE VRIE R.
Toujours à l'innocent les dieux sont favorables;
Pourquoi fuir leur présence, appui des misérables?
Autour de Ieurs autels, parés de nos festons,
Que ne viens-tu danser, offrir de simples dons,
Du chaume, quelques fleurs, et, par ces sacrifices,
Te rendre Jupiter et les nymphes propices!
I. E B E R G E R.
Non: les danses, les jeux, les plaisirs des bergers,
Sont à mon triste coeur des plaisirs étrangers.
Que parles-tu de dieux, de nymphes et d'offrandes?
Moi, je n'ai pour les dieux ni chaume ni guirlandes;
Je les crains, car j'ai vu Ieur foudre et leurs éclairs;
Je ne les aime pas, ils m'ont donné des fers.
I. E C HIE VIRIE R.
Eh bien! que n'aimes-tu ! Quelle amertume extrême
Résiste aux doux souris d'une vierge qu'on aime!
L'autre jour à la mienne, en ce bois fortuné,
Je vins offrir le don d'un chevreau nouveau-né.
Son oeil tomba sur moi, si doux, si beau, si tendre !...
Sa voix prit un accent !... Je crois toujours l'entendre.
I. E. B E R GE. IR.
Eh ! quel oeil virginal voudrait tomber sur moi !
Ai-je. moi, des chevreaux à donner comme toi!
Chaque jour, par ce maitre inflexible et barbare,
\{es agneaux sont comptés avec un soin avare.

ANDRÉ CHÉNIER. 117,
G0 ATHERI).
The Gods are always to the guiltless kind ;
Why fiy! A comfort in their presence find!
Around their altars, deck'd with pious care,
W hy com'st thou not to dance, why not prepare
Gifts of fresh flowers ; and, fo* thy offering's sake,
Jove and the nymphs, to thee, propitious make !
-
* HIE. I* IIE... I).
No, to the pastiines of the shepherd swains,
My torpid heart a stranger still remains.
Taik wot of Gods, and dymphs, and gifts of ours,
1. for the Gods, have neither gifts nor flowers,
Nor pious oiferings to be prefer'd;
l fear them, for their thunder I have heard.
And seen their flashing brand the ether cleave;
But love theim not, for they have made me slave!
(.0 ATHERI).
Then, why not love ' What evil from above
Resists the smile of the fair maid we love !
Lately, to mine, while in the green copse hid,
I made a present of a new born kid.
Her glance fell on me, and I felt a thrill!...
Her voice, her words!,.. I think I hear them still.
sIIE PHIE RI).
What maiden's glance would deign to fall on me?
Have I got kids to give away, like thee!
Each morn, my ruthless master doth prepare
My lambs to number, with a miser's care,

11S ANDRÉ CHÉNIER.
Trop heureux quand il daigne à mes cris superflus
N'en pas redeimauder plus que je n'en regus.
O juste Némésis! si jamais je puis être
Le plus fort à mon tour, si je puis me voir maitre,
Je serai dur, méchant, intraitable, sans foi,
Sanguinaire, cruel comme on 1'est avec moi.
I.E CHIE VIRIE R.
Et moi, c'est vous qu'ici pour témoins j'en appelle,
Dieux ! de mes serviteurs la cohorte fidèle
Me trouvera toujours humain, compátissant,
A leurs justes désirs facile et complaisant,
Afin qu'ils soient heureux et qu'ils aiment leur maitre,
Et bénissent en paix I'instant qui les vit naitre.
I. E B E RGE R.
Et moije le maudis cet instant douloureux
Qui me donna le jour pour étre malheureux;
Pour agir quand un autre exige, veut, ordonne;
Pour n'avoir riem à moi. pour ne plaire à personne;
Pour endurer la faim, quand ma peine et mon deuil
Engraissent d'un tyram 1'indolence et l'orgueil.
I.E. ('IIE. VRIE R.
Berger infortun3 ! ta plaintive d3tresse
De ton coeur dans le mien fait passer la tristesse.
Vois cette chèvre mère et ces chevreaux, tous deux
Aussi blancs que le lait qu'elle garde pour eux;

ANDRÉ CHÉNIER. 119
And I would deem me lucky should he not
Make me account for more than I had got.
Oh just Revenge! if I should chance, by some
Decree of fate, a master to become,
Hard, ruthless, wicked, without faith I'd be,
Bloody, and cruel, as they've been to me.
G0 ATHERI).
And on the Gods, to witness, here I call,
That I would be humane and good to all
That served me faithfully ; nor could they find
A master juster, gentler, or more kind,
Or one who would be readier than 1
With all their honest wishes to comply;
That they might, thus, be happy in my sight,
And bless the hour in which they saw the light.
S HEPHERID.
Accursèd be the hour when I was born
To live a life so wretched and forlorn;
Another's will my actions to control,
Naught to be mine, to pleasure not a soul!
To suffer hunger, when the food denied
Fattens a tyrant and augments his pride.
G0AT HIERI*.
Unhappy man! the anguish of thy heart
Does its own sadness to my soul impart.
See these two kids that gambol in thy sight
Around their dam, both of a milky white;
120 ANDRÉ CHÉNIER.
Qu'ils aillent avec toi, je te les abandonne.
Adieu. Puisse du moins ce peu que je te donne
De ta triste mémoire effacer tes malheurs,
Et, soigné par tes mains, distraire tes douleurs!
ILE BERGER.
Oui, donne et sois maudit; car si j'étais plus sage,
Ces dons sont pour mon coeur d'un sinistre présage;
De mon despote avare ils choqueront les yeux.
Il ne croit pas qu'on donne; il est fourbe, envieux;
Il dira que chez lui j'ai volé le salaire
Dont j'aurai pu payer les chevreaux et la mère;
Et d'un si bon prétexte, ardent à se servir,
C'est à moi que lui-même il viendra les ravir.
LIGNES ECRITES SUR LA PORTE D'UNE
MAISON DE JEU.
Il y a trois portes à cet antre,
L'Espoir, l'Infamie, et la Mort;
C'est par la première qu'on entre,
Et par les deux autres qu'on sort.

ANDR £ CHÉNIER 121
Take them along: this trifling gift receive;
Farewell. And may the little that I give
From thy remembrance chase away thy grief,
And thy care of them give thy mind relief.
SIHIEPIIERID.
Give, and be curs'd: if I were only wise,
Thy gift would cause fears in my mind to rise;
For, when these goats come in my master's sight,
Their view will envy in his heart excite;
And, not conceivi g any one could make
A present, simply for a present's sake,
The thought will enter his suspicious soul,
That the suum paid for them from him I stole;
And under this pretence, the envious elf
Will come and steal them from my fold himself.
LINES WRITTEN OVER THE DOOR OF
A GAMBILING HOUSE,
Three doors this fatal mansion claims;
Hope, Infamy, and Death, their names;
The first of these you enter through,
And leave it by the other two.

122 BYRON
LINES ON THE DEATH OF
HENRY KIRKE WHITE.
*Twas thine own genius gave the final blow,
And help'd to plant the wound that laid thee low:
So the struck eagle, stretch'd upon the plain,
No more through rolling clouds to soar again,
Views his own feather on the fatal dart
Which wing'd the shaft that quivers in his heart.
Keen are his pangs; but keener far to feel
He nursed the pinion that impell'd the steel;
While the same plumage that had warm'd his nest
Drinks the last life-drop of his bleeding breast.
— •--—
EXTRAIT DE L' ODE DE FONTANES A
CHATE AUBRIAND.
Ainsi les maîtres de la lyre
Partout exhalent leurs chagrins,
Vivants la haîne les déchire,
Et ces Dieux, que la terre admire,
Ont peu compté de jours sereins.
Longtems, la gloire fugitive
Semble tromper leur noble orgueil:
La gloire enfin pour eux arrive,
Et toujours, sa palme tardive
Croit plus belle près d'un cercueil.
-
_ _ _ _ _
|-ſſſſſ！！！
ſ ºſs，
ſae ſºº
·
， ！
ſ.|×.


BYRON. 123
LIGNES SUR LA MORT DE
HENRI KIRK WHITE.
C'est ton propre génie auquel tu dois ton sort,
Et qui aida le coup qui t'a donné la mort:
Ainsi 1'aigle blessée et sur terre étendue,
Qui ne pourra jamais s'élancer vers la nue,
Contemple en gémissant la perte de son sang
Et le trait acerré qui tremble dans son flanc.
Amère est sa douleur; mais bien plus la pensée
Que sa plume a guidé le fer qui I'a frappée;
Tandis que le duvet, dont la douce chaleur
Avait chauffë son nid, boit le sang de son coeur.
— -—---—
EXTRACT FROM FONTANES* ODE TO
CHATEAUBRIAND.
Thus do the masters of the lyre
In plaintive strains exhale their grief,
While living envious hate conspires
Against these Gods the world admires,
And their bright days are few and brief.
Long-time, the light by glory cast
Appears their noble pride to brave,
And when, the toil and struggle past,
The laurel palm is won at last,
It blooms the freshest o'er their grave.
_ _ _ _ .
124 ARNAULT.
LA FEUILLE.
De ta tige détachée,
Pauvre feuille desséchée,
Où vas-tu ! Je n'en sais rien.
L'orage a brisé le chéne
Qui seul était mon soutien;
De son inconstante haleine
1.e zéphyr ou l'aquilon
Depuis ce jour me promène
De la foret à la plaine,
De la montagne au vallon.
Je vais où le vent me mène,
Sans me plaindre ou m'effrayer;
Je vais où va toute chose,
Où va la feuille de rose,
Où va la feuille de laurier.

ARNAULT. 125
THE LEAF.
Poor withered leaf that flittest by,
Torn from thy stem away
Say whither. wanderer, dost thou fly !
Alas, I cannot say!
The storm has rent the oak in twain
That was my sole support;
Since then | seek for rest in vain,
Of every wind the sport:
Wafted by zephyr's fickle breath,
0'er meadow green I sail,
Or ty across the barren heath,
Or sweep along the vale,
Now, whirled by autumn's fitful blast,
The forest depths I gain;
Now, *gainst the mountain side I'm cast,
Now, dashed upon the plain.
How can I tell you where l go,
Tost, thus resistless to and fro
By every wind that blows !
Alas, the only thing 1 know
ls, that like all things here below,
I go where every leaf must go,
The laurel, — and the rose.

126
MES SOUHAITS.
S'il est un charmant gazon
Que le ciel arose,
Où brille, en toute saison,
Quelque fleur éclose,
Où l'on cueille à pleine main
Lis, chèvre-feuille et jasmin,
J'en veux faire le chemin
Où ton pied se pose !
S'il est un sein bien aimant,
Dont l'honneur dispose,
Dont le ferme dévouement
N'ait rien de morose,
Si, toujours, ce noble sein
Bat pour un noble dessein,
J'en veux faire le coussin
Où ton front se pose !
S'il est un réve d'amour,
Parfumé de rose,
Où l'on trouve chaque Jour
Quelque douce chose,
Un réve que Dieu bénit,
Où l'âme à l'âme s'unit,
Oh !j'en veux faire le nid
Où ton coeur se pose!
• .*.***
£
127
MY WISHES.
If a charming spot I knew,
All with flowers bespread,
Where the breeze of heaven blew,
Where its dews are shed,
Where the honey-suckle hath
Pour'd its sweet and fragrant breath,
1 would choose it as the path
Where thy foot should tread !
If there be a loving breast,
Beats with impulse high,
Whose devotion stands the test
Whereby truth we try,
Which, wherever honor led,
Followed without pause or dread,
I would choose it as the bed
Where thy head should lie!
If there be a dream of love
That the sense can thrill,
Which the harbinger may prove
Of something sweeter still,
Where in mutual rapture blest,
Soul to soul its joy confess'd,
Oh!*tis there l'd make the nest
Which thy heart should fill!
_-_
Q` z)
12S
HENRI MÜRGER.
LA BALLADE DU DÉSESPÉRÉ.
Qui frappe à ma porte à cette heure!
— Ouvre, c'est moi. Quel est ton nom!
On n'entre pas dans ma demeure
A minuit aunsi sans fagon!
Quel est ton nom' Je suis la gloire,
Je mène à l'immortalité.
Passe, fantóme dérisoire,
— Donne moi l'hospitalité,
Je suis l'amour et la jeunesse,
Ces deuae belles moitiés de Dieu.
Passe ton chemin, ma maitresse
Depuis long-temps m'a dit adieu.
—Je suis l'art et la poèsie,
On me proscrit; vite, ouvre. Non!
Je ne sais plus chanter ma mie,
Je ne sais méme plus son nom.
— Ouvre moi, Je suis la richesse,
Et j'ai de l'or, de l'or toujours;
Je puis te rendre ta maitresse.
— Peux-tu me rendre nos amours?
129
HENRY MÜRGER.
BALLAD OF THE HOPELESS.
Who knocks so loud, at this late hour !
— Open, `tis I.—And who art thou!
If thou would'st have me ope my door,
Thy name and purpose, first, avow.
What is thy name' They call me Fame,
1 lead to immortality.
—Begone, vain phantom, whence you came.
—Grant me thy hospitality
I'm Love and Youth, and God above
.Ne'er made aught fairer than the two.
Pass on, the false one I did love
Has long since bidden me adieu.
— I'm poetry, and art divine,
I am proscribed ; quick, opem.—No.
I've done with songs to love of mine,
Her very name 1've ceased to know.
— Open, I'm vrealth, I've gold in store,
Heaps upon heaps qf gold ; and then
I've power thy mistress to restore.
—Canst thou restore our love again !
130
IIENRI MÜRGER. BALLADE.
—Si tu ne veur ouvrir ta porte
Qu'au voyageur qui dit son nom,
Je suis la Mort, ouvre, j'apporte
Pour tous tes mauae la guérison.
— Entre chez moi maigre étrangère,
Et pardonne à ma pauvreté.
C'est le foyer de la misère
Qui t'offre I'hospitalité.
Je t'attendais. je veux te suivre ;
Oú tu m'emmèneras j'irai.
Mais laisse mon pauvre chien vivre
Pour que je puisse étre pleuré.

HENRY MÜRGER. BALLAD, 131
—Since then my nam e I must declare,
Before thou wilt thy door unclose,
Open, I'm Death, and with me bear
-1 certain cure for all thy voes.
— Come in, then, Stranger grim and gaunt,
And pray o'erlook my poverty,
*Tis misery's home, though bare and scant,
That offers hospitality.
I've long expected thee, believe
Where'er thou lead'st I'll follow thee;
But prithee let my poor dog live,
That one, at least, may weep for me.

132 D. FRANCISCO MARTINEZ DE LA ROSA.
EL RECUERDO DE LA PATRIA.
Ví en el Támesis umbrio
Cien y ciem naves cargadas
De riqueza;
Vi su immenso poderio,
Sus artes tan celebradas,
Su grandeza:
Mas el ánima afligida
Mil suspiros exhalaba
Y ayes mil;
Y ver la orilla florida
Del manso Dauro anhelaba
Y del Genil.
V 1 de la soberbia corte
Las damas engalanadas,
Muy vistosas;
Vi las bellezas del morte,
De blanca nieve formadas
Y de rosas:
Sus ojos de azul del cielo;
De oro puro parecia
Su cabello;
Bajo transparente velo
Turgente el seno se via,
Blanco y vello.
jMas qué valen los brocados,
Las sedas y pedreria
De la ciudad !
jQué los rostros sonrosados,
La blancura y gallardia,
Ni la beldad !
- - -

D FRANCISCO MARTINEZ DE LA ROSA. 133
THE MEMORIES OF HOME.
I saw on Thames's dusky tide
Hundreds of gallant vessels ride,
With riches fraught;
I saw how sciences and art
Did to the land great pow'r impart,
And glory brought: -
Yet, while I saw these things, my soul
Could not a thousand sighs control,
But sadiy, still
1 yearn'd in heart once more to stand
On Douro's t!ower-enamelled strand,
And sweet Genil.
I saw the richly jewell'd dames,
In splendid robes, with titled names
The court exposes; -
These northern beauties seemed as thoug
Created of the driven snow
Aud blushing roses;
Their eyes are blue as cloudless skies,
The gloss upon their hair defies
Gold's lustre quite;
And through the pervious cambric screen,
A heaving bosom can be seen,
Downy and white.
But what avails the outward aid
Of silk, and jewels, and brocade
Of city dames !
Of what account is rosy face,
Complexion fair, or e'en the grace
Which beauty claims!


134 D. FRANCISCO MARTINEZ DE LA ROSA.
Con mostrarse mi zagala,
De blanco lino vestida,
Fresca y pura,
Condena la inútil gala,
Y se esconde confundida
La hermosura,
jD6 hallar en climas helados
Sus negros ojos graciosos,
Que son fuego,
Ora me miren airados,
Ora roben cariìosos
Mi sosiego?
jDo la negra caballera
Qué al ébano se aventaja?
jY el pie leve,
Que al triscar por la pradera,
Ni las tiernas flores aja,
Ni aun las mueve?...
Doncellas las del Genil,
Vuestra tez escurecida
No trocâra
Por los rostros de marfil
Que Albion envanecida
Me mostrára.
jPadre Dauro, manso rio,
De las arenas doradas,
Dignate oir
1.os votos del pecho mio;
Y en tus márgenes sagradas
Logre morir !
— ====-«- ** »e=—*= -—


D. FRANCISCO MARTINEZ DE LA ROSA. 135
When, simply clad, in purest white,
My village maiden comes in sight,
The hamlet's pride !
All jewels fade,whate'er their cost,
E'en beauty finds its power is lost
And tries to hide.
Where, under frigid northern skies,
Those deeply dark and sparkling eyes
S hall we e'er find !
Now, flashing with a keen rebuke,
Now stealing by a tender look
One's peace of mind!
Where shall we find the raven hair
Which may with ebony compare?
Or foot whose tread
So lightly passes o'er the field,
It does not cause one flower to yield
Or bend its head!...
Maids, who the banks of Genil grace !
I would not change a single face
Of nut-brown hue,
For all like ivory fair, but cold,
Which in proud Albion we behold
Exposed to view.
Oh Father Douro! river dear,
Deign, from thy golden sands to hear
The prayer which I
With fervor breathe; to tread once more
The sacred margin of thy shore.
And there to die.

—_—


1:36 EXTRACT
FROM FATHER PROUT*S RELIQUES.
“And may my lamp. at midnight hour,
Be seen in some high, lonely tower,
Seeking, with Plato to unfold
What realms or what vast regions hold
Th'immortal soul that hath forsook
lts mansion in this fleshy nook !
And may, at length, my weary age
Find out some peaceful hermitage,
Till old experience doth attain
To something like prophetic strain !”
METASTASIO. CANZONETTA.
Placido zeffiretto
Se trovi il caro oggetto,
Digli che sei sospiro,
Ma non gli dir di chi.
Limpido ruscelletto,
Se mai t'incontri in lei,
Dille che pianto sei,
Ma non le dir qual ciglio
Crescer ti fè cosi.
—---—-—-

RXTRAIT DES RELIQUES DE 1:37
••FATHER PROUT**
“Et qu'à minuit, ma tremblante lumière
Luise au sommet d'une tour solitaire,
Où, de Platon invoquant le secours,
Je m'intéresse à fixer les séjours
Où l'âme, enfim, de la chair délivrée,
Après la mort, subit sa destinée.
Puisse le ciel à mes voeux accorder
Un hermitage où me réfugier,
Et où mon chant, grâce à l'expérience,
De prophétie puisse avoir l'influence."
METASTASIO. SONG.
Gentle zephyr, should'st thou see
The object dearest unto me,
Say, while softly passing by,
Thou'rt a restless, wandering sigh;
But whisper naught except thy name,
Nor hint the bosom whence you came.
Little bubbling brook so clear,
Should'st meet her, murmur in her ear,
Thou'rt a tear by lover shed;
But oh, let not a word be said
By which the cruel fair may know
From whose deep sorrow thou dost flow.


APPENDIX.


140 MARTIALIS,
LIBER V. EPIGRAMMA XXXIV,
E PITAPHIUM ER0T11 v D FR0NT0NEM PARENTEM.

Hanc tibi, Fronto pater. genetrix Flaccilla puellam,
Oscula commendo, deliciasque meas;
Paulula ne nigras horrescat Erotion umbras,
Oraque Tartarei prodigiosa canis,
Impletura fuit sextæ modo frigora brumæ,
Vixisset totidem mi minus illa dies.
Inter tam veteres ludat lasciva patronos,
Et nomen blæso garriat ore meum,
Mollia nec rigidus cespes tegat ossa, nec illi
Terra, gravis fueris: non fuit illa tibi.
LIBER V. EPIGRAMMA XXXVII.
DE EROTIO PUELLA.
Puella senibus dulcior mihi cycnis,
Agna Galesi mollior Phalantini,
Concha Lucrini delicatior stagni;
Cui nec lapillos praeferas Erythræos,
Nec modo politum pecudis Indicæ dentem,


MARTIAL. 1.41
BOOK V. EPIGRAM XXXIV,
P. PiT \ 1*11 o N F.rotriov. 'ro 'rh E F ATHER, FR0NT0,
Oh Fronto, listen to Flaccilla's pray*r,
A mother trusts her darling to thy care;
Let neither Cerberus, nor fearful shade
O'ercomc with fright the timid little maid.
If she but six days more of life had seen,
That number, just, of years her age had been,
Lether, 'midst old friends play some sportive game,
And teach her childish tongue to lisp my name.
Let no hard sod, oh earth, her covering be,
Bear on her lightly, she was light on thee.
-
—-—---— -
I30()I\ V. EPIGRAMI XXXVII.
0N TIIE (;IRI, EROTION.
Maiden, whose memºry is sweeter to me
Than note of the swam in his last agony,
Gentler than lambs on Galesus that play,
Far brighter than shells from the Lucrine bay;
More precious than pearls from the far Persian sea,
More fair than the polish ofivory cam be,
142 MARTIALIS. LIBER V. EPIG, XXXVII.
Nivesque primas, liliumque non tactum:
Quae crime vicit Baetici gregis vellus,
Rhenique nodos, aureamque nitelam;
Fragravit ore, quod rosarium Pæsti,
Quod Atticarum prima mella cerarum,
Quod succinorum rapta de manu gleba ;
Cui comp uratus indecens erat pavo,
Inamabilis sciurus, et frequens phoenix:
Adhuc recenti tepet Erotion busto,
Quam pessimorum lex avara fatorum
Sexta peregit hyeme, nec tamen tota,
Nostros amores. gaudiumque, lususque.
Et esse tristem me meus vetat Pætus:
Pectusque pulsans, pariter et comam vellens;
Deflere non te vernulæ pudet mortem!
Ego conjugem, inquit, extuli et tamen vivo,
Notam, superbam, nobilem, locupletem.
Quid esse nostro fortius potest Pæto!
Ducenties accepit, et tamen vivit.
-
-

MARTIAL. BOOK V. EPIGRAM XXXVII. 14:3
Or snow, or the lily untouch'd on its stem:
Whose hair was more bright than a gold diadem,
Than finest of Spain's finest fleeces more fine,
Unmatch'd by the auburn tress worn on the Rhine;
Whose breath was as sweet as a garden of roses
Or honey which Attica's white wax encloses,
Or drop of rich amber when rubbed with the hand.
With her to compare no proud peacock could stand,
The squirrel were graceless, the phoenix were vile.
Erotion's yet warm from her funeral pile,
On which, by the stern will of fate, she was cast
Ere yet her sixth year was entirely past.
With her went my love, my delight, and my gladness!
And yet Pætus bids me to drive away sadness,
Saying, “shame on you, thus to be striking your head,
.1nd weeping because your young servant is dead!
I had the misfortune at losing my wife,
One of good reputation,
With riches, and station,
.lnd yet never was more contented with life.
Could Pætus a pledge of more fortitude give !
Tinherit two million sesterces and live!


144 HORACE.
BOOK I. ODE XXII, *
TO ARISTIUS FUSCUS.
The man whose life is pure
May ever feel secure;
His safety to ensure,
He does not need a score
Of poison'd darts, or more,
Nor Moorish lances, nor
A bow and arrow.
My Fuscus, he may go
And wander to and fro,
View Caucasus in snow,
See famed Hydaspes flow,
Or go where sun doth glow
Enough to roast a crow,
Or broil a sparrow.
Thus, as in Sabine wood
1 strayed, in careless mood,
Singing, in measure rude,
My Lalage, so good !
Sudden, before me stood
A wolf of fiercest brood:
I had no gun!
* See page 40.
HORACE. BOOK I, ODE XXII. 145
Unarmed was I, and he
As savage as could be.
Numidia, wild and free,
Though nurse oflions she,
His like doth seldom see:
Yet, soon as he spied me,
He turned to rum.
Place me on foreign strand,
On wild and barren land,
Place me on arid sand,
Where green tree cannot stand,
No shelter at command,
Still will I sweep my hand
The strings among:
Place me on sea or isle,
In places ne'er so vile,
And still will I beguile
The hours in cheerful style,
And sing and love, the while,
My Lalage's sweet smile,
And sweeter tongue,


obitua*y.
D*e* at lis residence in this city, on the 10th imstant,
1m the 67uh year of his age, ADOLPEIUS PER II**, Esq.
Mr. Peries Me mourned by a large circle of friends, to
many of whom he was bound by tie* of lomg and close
associatiom, and sfrons affectiom- He was born in
Europe, and wastaken wham very *oum- to the Danish
West fmdies, whence he came to this city under the
auspices of Mr. James Yard, one of the eminent Phila-
dejphia auarchants-of-anctemt days. The young mam
was educated at the Classical Academy of Mr. Carre,
and omieawing school, entereà the couatin-house of
Mr. Yard, At a later period, he was engaged in mer-
camtue relationsto the Ieland of Samta Cruz, but for
mam* years had withdrawn from active bustneas, de-
votimg his truly elegant leiaureto pursuits or recrea-
tious of literature amd art. He was a good classical
scholar, pnd well aeqnainted with modera lamguages.
Helad areat expertwess in what may bo termed gentle
mechanical arte, which he improved to the delight of
alleround him. Hls was a bright, practical intelli-
.ewde, ne was a thorough mam of business. He had
that sortor pure iutegrity of character, whose very in-
-tincte led hium right - He was, as his mear friend* well
knew, geutle, and gauerous, and affectionate. His
la*est thoughts. in the severity of suddem and umex
pected ilinees, were of his friends, and almost hls laat
words were farewells for them. one of those friends
ventures to , ut om record this slight tribute to hi*
iuemgry- - I.-

ERRATUM.
Page 51 line 3 for *Arturus' read *Arcturus'.

14S
TABLE OF CONTENTS.
VIRGIL. . .
HORACE.
.... ECL0GUE I. . . . . . . . . . . Page
BOOK I. ODE I. . . . . . . -
_ - ODE II . . . . . . -
_ - ODE III...... -
_ - ODE IV...... -
-_ - ODE - .... -
_ - ODE XXXVIII. .
BOOK II. ODE III. . . . . . -
_ - ODE XVI. , . . . -
BOOK III. ODE 1. ....... -
- ODE XVI...... -
EPODES ODE XV. ...... -
OVID META. BOOK XV. lime DCCCLXXI..
MARTIAL.
BOOK I. EPIGRAMI LXXIII. -
- - EPIGRAM CX.. -
BOOK II. EPIGRAM XLI. .
BOOK III. EPIGRAM X. . _
- - EPIGRAM XLVII .
- - EPIGRAM LVIII _
BOOK IV. EPIGRAM XXII. _
1
1 1
15
19
2:8
25
27
29
:31
33
35
41
:37
43
45
49
53
57
59
6:8
65
69
6:8
77
71
67
BOOK V. EPIGRAM XXXIV. 141
— - EPIGRAM XXXVII. -
BOOK VI. EPIGRAM XIX. . _
- - EPIGRAMI XXX. _
BOOK X. FPIGRAMI XXXI. -
66
69
61
TABLE OF CONTENTS. 149
C. VALERIUS CATULLUS. SONG V,.. - 79
CLAUDIAN, EPIGRAM II. . . . . . . . . . . . - S1
SENECA. CHORUS FROM THYESTES... - S:3
BOETHIUS, BOOK I. MEASURE IV. . - 93
- MEASURE VII.. - S9
BOOK III. MEASURE VIII. - 95
Af-rr.ir viae, 1 N N, - . . . — 100
FROM THE LIFE OF VIRGIL. ......... - 97
T. MUSCONIUS. ox tur. w ire of m \ vAi.us. - 99
PRAYER OF MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS.. - -
CHENIER. FREEDOM. \ p \sron ai..... - 107
LINES OVEiR A GAMBLING HOUSE. . . . - 151
BYR0N. ox riu*. pr. vrh of kirk wiiite. . - 123
FONTANES. ()I)E TO (`HATEAUBRIANI). _ _
ARNAULT THE LEAF............ - 125
MY WISHES........................ - 127
HENRY MÜRGER. h \ll. \o or rue nopei.es. 129
F. MARTINEZ I)E LA ROSA- frov rh e sp AN is h.
THE MEM0RIES OF HOME.... - 1:3:3
FROM FATHER PROUT*S RELIQUES... - 187
METASTASIO. S0NG............. - -
----



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