■ '■■■:' -!';'..' ^ :•■• ' ■■'■ I '. ^.- '.■'! :'.-"'■,'.' 1^ t' •''.:' '■(,;, ,1 1-1 I •■'■'■ -^•■■■^'^-''"'^-' Ex Libris C. K. OGDEN THE LIBRARY OF THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LOS ANGELES ^3 dfoltorum ^tl\)ula ftp BV THE SAME EDITOR Foliorum Sihnila, Part /, being Sele', 41 Philemon, 25 Philips, Ambrose, 329 Pindarus, 401, 402, 403, 404, 405, 409, 410, 411 Pope, Alexander, 3, 65, 273, 319, 511 Praed, W. ISL 441 Prior, M. 292 Procter, Adelaide, A. 285 Procter, Bryan Walter, 312, 324, 386 Vlll Index of Atithors Qiiarles Francis, 223 (jueen Elizabeth, 29 R Raleigh, Sir Walter, 343 Rickards, Samuel, 293 Rogers, Samuel, 190, 295 S Samuel, 498 Scadlock, J. 174 Schiller, J. F. 227, 228, 229 Scott, Sir Walter, 10, 15, 19, 58, 96, 141, 147, 172, 173, 253, 269, 336 Sedley, Sir C. 279 Selden, John, 33 Shakespeare, W.I 4, 47, 88, log, 110,111, 512, 513- 514. I. 2, 3, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 20 Shelley, P. B. 4, 44, 57, 143, 158, 164, 183, 191, 198, 247, 258, 259, 275, 356, 439, 450, 451, 480, 481 Shenstone, William, 177 Shirley, James, 206, 361 Sidney, Sir Philip, 105 Sigourney, Lydia H. 214 Solomon, 355 Sophocles, 407, 414, 415, 416, 417 Southey, Robert, 148, 167, 268, 297, 310, 341,491 Southwell, Robert, 38, 39, 40 • Spencer, W. R. 21, 78 Spenser, Edmund, 106, 107, 108, 264 Stanley, Thomas, 176, 226 Steele, Sir Richard, 329 Stevens, G. A. 489 Suckling, Sir J. 59 Surrey, Earl of, 219 Synesius, 425 Tannahill, Robert, 220 Tennyson, Alfred, 67, 99, 205, 208, 305, 306, 307, 370, 429 Theobald, 61 Theocritus, 412 Thompson, William, 48 Thomson, James, 369, 443 Toilet, Elizabeth, 280 Trench, R. C. 35, 484, 485, 486, 487 Trevor, George, 12 V Vaughan, Henry, 242, 243, 283, 284, 309, 314. 339. 349. 353. 387. 388, 391. 392, 432, 433. 452, 453, 462 W Walker, William Sidney, 221 Waller, Edmund, 266, 313 Warton, Joseph, 302 Warton, Thomas, 347, 348, 448 Watts, Isaac, 483 White, H. K. 133, 134, 135, 322, 367, 368 Wither, G. 454 Wordsworth, William, 9, 13, 17, 24, 43, 125, 126, 127, 128, 129, 130, 178, 199, 211, 212, 255, 271, 282, 301, 327, 452 Wotton, Sir Henry, 308 Wrangham, Francis, 68, 139, 465, 474 Anonymous and uncertain, 7, 20, 42, 49, 79, 81, 91, 100, loi, 102, 103, 104, 131, 137, 152, 165, 168, 169, 222, 22s, 240, 245, 290, 296, 299, 318, 328, 351, 358, 385, 426, 428, 440, 444 COMPARATIVE TABLE OF SECTIONS IN SECOND AND THIRD EDITIONS [* In part only, t Part T. Ed. 3] 2d Ed. 3d Ed. 2d Ed. 3d Ed. 2d Ed. I 3 46 . . . 265* 82 . . . 3 • 5 47 42 83 . 7 7 48 41 8s 9 8 49 • 228—9* 86 10 9 50 43 87 • II 10 51 44 91 . 12 11 52 I44t 92 14 335* 55 46 94 15 22 56 47 . 95 16 23 57 Ii8t 96 17 24 58 48 97 i8 < 4 59 sot 93 19 13 60 103 99 24 14 61 50 100 25 62t 62 51 lOI 26 16 63 52 102 27 35ot 64 53 105 29 17 65 96 106 30 18 66 54 107 34 19 67 55 108 35 31 68 56 109 36 510* 70 58 110 37 29 71 59 III 38 491* 72 60 112 39 30 73 61 114 40 35 74 62 "5 41 • 36 75 63 116 42 37 76 . 64 118 44 39* 77 • 6s 119 45 34 79 209 120 3d Ed. 435* 69 70 71 72 74 75 77 78 I53t 79 94 114 95 115 130 132 129 113 125 452t 141 142 118 144 145 146 134 147 133' Comparative Table of Sections 2d Ed. 3d Ed. 2d Ed. 3d Ed. 2d Ed. 121 86 176 . . . 188 237 • 122 . 87 177 189 238 123 . 88 178 190 239 124 . 99 179 236 240 125—6 . 328 181 200 241 127 . 148 182 201 242 128 . • 149 183 239 243 129 150 1S4 •' 199 244 ft 130 . . 152 185 • 365t 24s 131 • • 153 1S6 240 246 133—4 • 430 187 241 247 135 • • 154 i88 242* 248 136 . • 155 190 245 249 137 • . 470* 191 — 2 • 459 250 138 . 102 194 244 251 139 . . 158 195 248 252 140 • 159 196 641! 253 141 . 164 197 64it 254 142 . . 161 198—9 462 255 143 . . 166 204 247 256 144 . . 167 206 206 257 MS • . 168 207 393 258 146 . . 169 208 250 259 147 . . 170 209 382* 260 148 . • 171 210 257 261 149 . 3i2t 211 258 262 150 . • 175 213 264 263 152 . . 176 214 44ot 264 153 • • 177 215 44it 26s 155 • . 178 216 267 266 156 . • 179 217 437+ 267 157 • 40it 218 268 269 158 . 180 219 269 270 159 • . 181 220 270 271 160 . . 182 221 271 272—3 161 . . 183 222 272 274 162 . . 184 223 273 275 163 , . 119 225 274 276 164 • 487 226 495 1 278 165 .. 211 227 296 279 166 . 232 228 275 280 167 . *469— 47ot 229 276 283 168 . . 248t 230 5i9t 284 169 . 185 231 277 285 170 . . 385i 232 278 286 171 . . 162 233 279 287 . 172 . • 197 1 234 280 288 174 . . 186 235 344 289 ■75 • . 187 236 345 290 3d Ed. 297 298 4S6t 299 300 301 492t 302 303 304 307 308 306 310 402 251 3" 486 488t 312 313 314 323 324 359 360 361 354 193—5* 363 224 352 484 485 436 365 6i4t 368 369 6i3t 370 373 367 374 375 6r6t 376 382 377 /';/ Second ajid Third Editions XI 2d Ed. 3d Ed. 2d Ed. 3d Ed. 2d Ed. 3d Ed. 291 379 311 . . .460 329 . . . 463 293 • • 383 312 421 330 196* 294 . • 55it 313 356 331 197* 29s • • 471 314 439 332 469 296 • 450 315 464 333 437 297 . • 453 316 418 334 143 298 . 100 — I 317 414 335 400 299 . • 639t 318 401 336 52ot 300 . • 442 31C, 495 337 413 303 • . 501* 322 505 339 93 304 ■ • 441 323 494 340 i3ot 305 • • 448 324 501* 343 509 306 . • 449 325 502 344 628 1 307 • • 364 326 503 346 3 308 . • 456 327 504 347 1 310 . • 452 328 500 ADDITIONS AND CORRECTIONS PART I PAGE NO. 6 It) /or SIR W. SCOTT le£^e J. bunyan 36 123, atfd author s fiaiiic, G. GASCOIGNE 97 273, ,, „ „ R. BURNS 131 349, „ ,, ,, F. HEMANS 172 436, 280 621, „ ,, ,, W. C. BRYANT 322 708, ,, ,, ,, F. HEMANS 324 714, ,, ,, ,, J. DRYDEN 3S2 784, ,, ,, ,, F. HEMANS 369 824, ,, ,, ,, W. WORDSWORTH 373 831, ,, ,, „ J. DYER 427 941, ,. ,, ,, A. TENNYSON 454 990, ,, ,, „ S. T. COLERIDGE 480 1034, „ ,, ,, E. FAIRFAX PART II 23 69, add author's name, dr grant : I. 2, lege now thy tyrant reign : 1- Z'/"^ merry lege mystic : 1. S,/or bowl lege bowls : 1. 6, for merry lege happy 123 292, add author s name, M. prior 215 440, ,, ,, ,, H. TAYLOR PASSAGES FOR TRANSLATION INTO LATIN LYRIC VERSE LYRICS FOR LEGACIES GOLD I 've none, for use or show, neither silver to bestow at my death ; but thus much know, that each lyric here shall be of my love a legacy, left to all posterity. Gentle friends, then do but please to accept such coins as these, as my last remembrances. A CANTICLE TO APOLLO PLAY, Phoebus, on thy lute, and we will sit all mute; by listening to thy lyre, that sets all ears on fire. Hark! hark! the God docs play; and as he leads the way through heafen, the very spheres, as men, turn all to eaVs. R. HERRICK R. HERRICK MUSIC MUSIC the fiercest grief can charm, and fate's severest rage disarm ; music can soften pain to ease, and make despair and madness please; our joys below it can improve, and antedate the bliss above. F. S. II. A, POPE I Passages for Translaiion MUSIC, when soft voices die, vibrates in the memory — odours, when sweet violets sicken, live within the sense they quicken. Rose leaves, when the rose is dead, are heap'd for the beloved's bed; and so thy thoughts, when thou art gone, love itself shall slumber on. P. B. SHELLEY EVENING HYMN GOD that madest earth and heaven, darkness and light! who the day for toil hast given, for rest the night ! may Thine Angel Guards defend us, slumber sweet Thy mercy send us, holy dreams and hopes attend us, this hvelong night ! R. HEBER A LAMENT FOR ISRAEL HEAR ye this word which I take up against you, even a lamentation, O house of Israel. The virgin of Israel is fallen; she shall no more rise: she is forsaken upon her land; there is none to raise her up. Wailing shall be in all the streets; and they shall say in all the high- ways, Alas ! alas ! and they shall call the husbandman to mourning, and such as are skilful of lamentation to wailing. AMOS A SIMILE I SAW a falling leaf soon strew the soil to which it owed its birth ; I saw a bright star falling too, but never reach the quiet earth. into Latin Lyric Verse Such is the lowly portion blest, such is ambition's foiled endeavour; the falling leaf is soon at rest, while stars that fall fall on for ever, JOYS AS WINGED DREAMS FLY FAST BUT, ah ! what liveth long in happiness \ grief of a heavy nature steady lies, and cannot be remov'd for weightiness ; but joy of lighter presence eas'ly flies, and seldom comes, and soon away will go: some secret power here all things orders so, that for a sunshine day follows an age of woe. P. FLETCHER AN OLD MAN'S REFLECTIONS MY eyes are dim with childish tears, my heart is idly stirr'd, for the same sound is in my ears which in those days I heard. Thus fares it still in our decay; and yet the wiser mind mourns less for what time takes away, titan what he leaves behind. W. WORDSWORTH A" lO MAJOR BELLENDEN'S SONG ^ND what though winter will pinch severe through locks of grey and a cloak that 's old, yet keep up thy heart, bold cavalier, for a cup of sack shall fence the cold. For time will rust the brightest blade, and years will break the strongest bow; was never wight so starkly made, but time and years would overthrow. SIR W. SCOTT I I GRA TITUDE WHAT is grandeur, what is power? heavier toil, superior pain, what the bright reward we gain? the grateful memory of the good. 12 Passages for Translation Sweet is the breath of vernal shower, the bee's collecfled treasures sweet, sweet music's meUing fall, but sweeter yet the still small voice of gratitude. T. GRAY O, WEEP not for the gathered rose! O mourn not for the friend that dies! In beauty's breast the flower blows — the soul is happy in the skies. Weep not for these! but weep for them, the unloved, the friendless, the unknown — the flowers that wither on the stem, the living that must live alone I G. TREVOR 13 THE DEATH OF THE GOOD A POWER is passing from the earth to breathless Nature's dark abyss ; but when the great and good depart, what is it more than this, that man, who is from GoD sent forth, doth yet again to GOD return? Such ebb and flow must ever be ; then wherefore should we mourn ? W. WORDSWORTH \ 4 SERENADE HARK! hark! the lark at heaven's gate sings, and Phoebus 'gins arise, his steeds to water at those springs on chaliced flowers that lies ; and winking Mary-buds begin to ope their golden eyes ; with everything that pretty bin: my lady sweet, arise; arise, arise. W. SHAKESPEARE into Latin Lyric Verse 5 15 TO A LADY, WITH FLOWERS FROM A ROMAN WALL rAKE these flowers, which purple waving on the ruined rampart grew, where, the sons of freedom braving, Rome's imperial standards flew. Warriors from the breach of danger pluck no longer laurels there ; they but yield the passing stranger wild-flower wreaths for Beauty's hair. SIR w. SCOTT 16 18 THE RESURRECTION BEGIN the song, and strike the living lyre ; lo, how the years to come, a numerous and well- fitted quire, all hand in hand do decently advance and to my song with smooth and equal measures dance. Whilst the dance last, how long soe'er it be, my music's voice shall bear it company ; till all gentle notes be drowned in the last trumpet's dreadful sound. A. COWI-EY THE RAINBOW MY heart leaps up when I behold a rainbow in the sky ! so was it whtyi my life began, so is it, now I am a man, so shall be it, when I grow old, or let me die ! The Child is father of the Man, and I could wish my days to be bound each to each by natural piety. W. WORDSWORTH ^'Tis sweet to hear at midnight on the blue and moonlit deep the song and oar of Adria's gondolier, by distance mellowed, o'er the waters sweep ; Passages for Translatiofi "tis sweet to see the evening star appear; 'tis sweet to listen as the night-winds creep from leaf to leaf ; 'tis sweet to view on high the rainbow, based on ocean, span the sky. LORD BYRON J 9 LITTLE IS BEST HE that is down need fear no fall, he that is low no pride ; he that is humble ever shall have God to be his guide. Fulness to such a burthen is that go on pilgrimage ; here little, and hereafter bliss, is best from age to age. SIR W. SCOTT 20 THE PATH OF DUTY NOT once or twice in our rough island story the path of duty was the way to glory : he that walks it, only thirsting for the right, and learns to deaden love of self, before his journey closes he shall find the stubborn thistle bursting into glossy purples, which outredden all voluptuous garden-roses. 21 VISIONS OF DEPARTED JOYS WHEN midnight o'er the moonless skies her pall of transient death has spread, when mortals sleep, when specftres rise, and none are wakeful but the dead ; no bloodless shape my way pursues, no sheeted ghost my couch annoys, visions more sad my fancy views, — visions of long-departed joys. w. R. SPENSER 23 24 -D into Latin Lyric Verse THE DYING MAIDENS SOXG LAY a garland on my hearse of the dismal yew ; -/ maidens, willow-branches bear ; say I died true. My love was false, but I was firm from my hour of birth ; upon my buried body lie lightly, gentle earth ! BEAUMONT AND FLETCHER HUMILITY MY fortune might I form at will, my canvas Zephyrs soft should fill with gentle breath, lest ruder gales crack the main-yard or burst the sails : by winds that temperately blow the barque should pass secure and slow, nor scare me leaning on her side : but smoothly cleave the unruffled tide. J. ADDISON • A SLUMBER did my spirit seal ; I had no human fears : she seemed a thing that could not feel the touch of earthly years. No motion has she now, no force ; she neither hears nor sees ; rolled round in earth's diurnal course with rocks, ajad stones, and trees ! W. WORDSWORTH THE VANITY OF TEARS Et m ZaKpv TjiJAV Twv kukwv rjv (fiapfiaKOv, act $ o KXavaa^ tov Trovetv liravero^ ■QWaTTOfxeaO av SaKpua Sovre? -^pvaiov vvv 8' ov iTpoai)((.L Ta Trpayfxar ovo a7ro/3A.€7ret €ts TavTa, SecTTTOT, aWd Tr}v avryv oSov, idv Te KAatTjs av re firj, iropevcreTai. Tt ovv TTOiets 7rA.eov ; ovSev rj \vTn] S ^X^h wcnrep to SeVSpov tovto Kapirov, to SuKpvov. PHILEMON 8 Passages for Translation 26 CHARITY OH, golden link connedling man with man, celestial charity ! oh, rarely seen since lust of rule and thirst of gold began unhallowed reign — whene'er thy look serene sheds placid influence, how the softened mien and softened heart consenting own thy sway ! thus rifted ice, enchained by winter keen, thawed by the sun, in rivers rolls away, and glads the parched waste and sparkles to the day. GALLY KNIGHl" 27 A WISH Keicr^o) hopv /xot /xltov a.fX(f>L7r\eKetv apa^vat?, yu,CTa o ijcrv^Las •jroAtw y>ypa (TvvomoLrjv aeLOotjxt oe crrc^avois Kapa TToXiov o-Te^avajo"as, . &pr]LKL0V iriXrav Trpos 'A^avas TrepiKLOcriv ayKpe/xaaa^ daXap.oi';, hiXTOiV T a.vaTnv(T(JOip.L yrjpvv, UV (T0(f)Ot KXiovTai. EVRTPIDES 28 CHEERFULNESS IS opos, fjna 0€ ppoTots eoTLV cvTV^ias 000s, Ov/xov ctTts £;)(wv (XTrcvOrj Sv^arai StaTtAciv (Hov ois 8c jxipifjiva fxlv ajU^tTToXet ^ THE EARTH'S BOUNTY THE Earth that in her genial breast makes for the down a kindly nest, where wafted by the warm south-west it floats at pleasure, yields, thankful, of her very best, to nurse her treasure: true to her trust, tree, herb or reed, she renders for each scattered seed, and to her Lord with duteous heed gives large increase : thus year by year she works unfeed, and will not cease. J. KEBLK SHE had left all on earth for him, her home of wealth, her name of pride, and now his lamp of love was dim, and, sad to tell, she had not died. She watched the crimson sun's decline, from some lone rock that fronts the sea, — ' I would, O burning heart of mine, there were an ocean-rest for thee. Passages for Translation ' The thoughtful moon awaits her turn, the stars compose their choral crown, but those soft lights can never burn, till once the fiery sun is down.' R. M. MILNES 6^ THE PRAYER OF ORPHEUS B lY the streams that ever flow, by the fragrant winds that blow o'er the Elysian flowers ; by those happy souls who dwell in yellow meads of asphodel or amaranthine bowers ; by the heroes' armed shades, ghttering through the gloomy glades; by the youths that died for love, wandering in the myrtle grove, restore, restore Eurydice to life : oh take the husband, or return the wife ! A. POPE 66 THE STUDY OF NATURE BRINGS NOT HAPPINESS NOR can it bliss you bring hid Nature's depths to know, why matter changeth, whence each form doth spring; nor that your fame should range, and after-worlds it blow from Tanais to Nile, from Nile to Gauge: and these have not the power to free the mind from fears, nor hideous horror can allay one hour, when Death in steel doth glance, in sickness lurk or years, and wakes the soul from out her mortal trance. \V. DRUMMONI) 67 ENID'S SONG TURN, Fortune, turn thy wheel and lower the proud ; turn thy wild wheel thro' sunshine, storm and cloud ; thy wheel and thee we neither love nor hate. into Latin Lyric Verse 23 Turn, Fortune, turn thy wheel with smile or frown ; with that wild wheel we go not up or down ; our hoard is little, but our hearts are great. Smile and we smile, the lords of many lands ; frown and we smile, the lords of our own hands: for man is man and master of his fate. Turn, turn thy wheel above the staring crowd ; thy wheel and thou are shadows in the cloud; thy wheel and thee we neither love nor hate. A. TENNYSON 68 • TO THE CICADA CICADA! thou who, tipsy with the dews of weeping skies, on the tall poplar-tree, perch'd swayingly, thyself dost still amuse, and the hush'd grove, with thy sweet minstrelsj' — after loqg tedious winters, when the sun through the brief summer speeds his whirling ray, with thy shrill chiding, as he hastens on, check his too rapid wheels and urge delay. The brightest day that dawns on mortal eyes, hurries — ah! fleetly hurries to its close — ne'er long enough to rapture are his joys, ever too long to anguish are her woes. F. WRANGHAM 69 DRINKING SONG CARE, thou canker of all joys! see the tyrant's reign is o'er ; fill the merry bowl, my boys, join the bacchanalian roar; o'er the merry midnight bowl, O ! how merry wilF we be, day was made for vulgar souls, night, my boys, for you and me. Seize the villain, plunge him in, see ! the hated miscreant dies ; mirth, with all thy train come in, banish sorrow, tears and sighs. 24 Passages for Translation 70 ELIZABETH'S SONG OH ! that we two were maying over the fragrant leas; Hke children with young flowers playing dowi the stream of the rich spring breeze. Oh I that we two sat dreaming on the sward of some sheep-trimmed down ; watching the white mist streaming, from river and mead and town. Oh ! that we two lay sleeping under the church-yard sod; with our limbs at rest in the quiet earth's breast, and our souls at home with God ! C KINGSLEY 71 TRANQUILLITY RETIRE, and timely, from the world, if ever thou hopest tranquil days : its gaudy jewels from thy bosom sever, despise its pomp and praise. The purest star that looks into the stream its slightest ripple shakes, and Peace, where'er its fierce splendours gleam, her brooding nest forsakes. The quiet planets roll with even motion in the still skies alone ; o'er Ocean they dance joyously, but Ocean they find no rest upon. W. S. LANDOR ".2 WE'LL GO NO MORE A ROVING SO, we'll go no more a roving so late into the night, though the heart be still as loving, and the moon be still as bright. For the sword outwears its sheath, and the heart wears out the breast, and lips must pause to breathe, and love itself have rest. 74 into Latin Lyric Verse 25 Though the night was made for loving and the day returns too soon, yet we'll go no more a roving by the light of the moon, LORD BYRON 73 ON CHLORIS BEING ILL 'AN I cease to care? can I cease to languish, while my darling fair is on the couch of anguish? c *c>^ Every hope is fled, every fear is terror; slumber even I dread, every dream is horror. Hear me, Pow'rs divine! O, in pity hear me! take aught else of mine, but my Chloris spare me! HOME R. BURNS I'VE roamed through many a weary round, I've wandered east and west, pleasure in every clime I've found, but sought in vain for rest. While glory sighs for other spheres, I feel that one's too wide, and think the home, which love endears, worth all the world beside. The needle thus, too rudely moved, wanders unconscious where ; till having found the place it loved, it trembling settles there. T. MOORE 75 GRIEF AND BE A UTY lRY those fair, those crystal eyes. D which like growing fountains rise to drown their banks. Grief's sullen brooks would better flow in furrowed looks: Passages for Translation thy lovely face was never meant to be the shore of discontent. Then clear those waterish stars again, which else portend a lasting rain ; lest the clouds which settle there prolong my winter all the year: and the example others make, in love with sorrow for thy sake. 76 AGAINST DESIRE OF LONG LIFE I J I H, KlN(i ILL-BUSIED man! why should'st thou take such care to lengthen out thy life's short kalendar? when every specftacle thou look'st upon, presents and aCls thy execution : each drooping season and each flower doth cry, ' Fool ! as I fade and wither thou must die.' The beating of thy pulse, when thou art well, is just the tolling of thy passing bell : night is thy hearse, whose sable canopy covers alike deceased day and thee, and all those weeping dews, which nightly fall, are but the tears shed for thy funeral. H. KINc; THE BLESSING OF SYMPATHY THE low sweet tones of Nature's lyre no more on listless ears expire, nor vainly smiles along the shady way the primrose in her vernal nest, nor unlamented sink to rest sweet roses one by one, nor autumn leaves deca\-. There's not a star the heaven can show, there's not a cottage hearth below, but feeds with solace kind the willing soul — men love us or they need our love; freely they own, or heedless prove tlic curse of lawless hearts, the joy of self-control. J. KEBLE into Latin Lyric Verse TO A LADY Too late I've stayed, forgive the crime; unheeded flew the hours : how noiseless falls the foot of Time, that only treads on flowers! What eye with clear account remarks the ebbings of the glass, when all its sands are diamond sparks, that dazzle as they pass \ Ah, who to sober measurement Time's happy fleetness brings, when birds of Paradise have lent their plumage for his wings! W. R. SPENCER 79 SHE sighs — like winds at eve, hke lovers' tongues that grieve, like tones — oh! never to be heard again, like voices from the sea where the sea-maids be, like aught of pleasure with a touch of pain. A more melodious tune never beneath the moon was uttered, since the Delphian girls were young, and the chaste Dian, bright with beauty 'and delight, lay listening on the mountains, while they sung. 80 EPITAPH ON THE LADY MARY VILLIERS THE lady Mary Villiers lies under this stone ; with weeping eyes the parents that first gave her birth, and their sad friends, laid her in earth : if any of them (reader) were known unto thee, shed a tear; or if thyself possess a gem, as dear to thee, as this to them; 28 Passages for Translation though a stranger to this place, bewail in theirs thine own hard case; for thou perhaps at thy return may'st find thy darling in an urn. T. CAREW 8 1 woLFRAnrs song in tannhauser OH ! from your sacred seats look down, angels and ministers of good ; with sancflity our spirits crown, and crush the vices of the blood ! Open our hearts and set them free that heavenly light may enter in ; and from this fair society obliterate the taint of sin. Thee, holy Love, I bid arise propitious to my votive lay ; shine thou upon our darken'd eyes, and lead us on the perfect way. 8a GAIETY UNTHINKING, idle, wild and young, I laughed and danced and talked and sung; and fond of health, of freedom vain, dream'd not of sorrow, care or pain ; concluding in those hours of glee, that all the ^vorld was made for me. But when the hour of trial came, and sickness shook this trembling frame ; when folly's gay pursuits were o'er, and I could dance and sing no more — it then occurr'd how sad 'twould be, were this world only made for me. PRINCESS AMELIA 83 A HYMN TO THE MUSES O, YOU the Virgins nine, that do our souls incline to noble discipline, nod to this vow of mine: into Latin Lyric Verse come then and now inspire my viol and my lyre with your eternal fire, and make me one entire composer in your quire. Then I'll your altars strew with roses sweet and new; and ever live a true acknowledger of you. 84 BALAAM R. HERRICK o FOR a sculptor's hand that thou might'st take thy stand, thy wild hair floating on the eastern breeze, thy tranced yet open gaze fixed on the desert haze, as one who deep in heaven some airy pageant sees. In outline dim and vast their fearful shadows cast the giant forms of empires on their way to ruin ; one by one they tower and they are gone, yet in the Prophet's soul the dreams of avarice stay. J. KEBLE 85 CAUTION TO ENGLAND TYRE of the West, and glorying in the name more than in Faith's pure fame ! O trust not crafty fort nor rock renowned earned upon hostile ground; wielding Trade's master-keys, at thy proud will to lock or loose its waters, England ! trust not still. Dread thine own power! since haughty Babel's prime high towers have been man's crime : since her hoar age, when the huge moat lay bare, strongholds have been man's snare. Thy nest is in the crags ; ah, refuge frail ! mad council in its hour, or traitors will prevail. LYRA APOSTOLICA 85 Passages for Translation EMBLEM OF DEA TH THE fallen leaf repeats the mournful tale of beauty faded and retiring joy ; some golden reliques float on every gale, and nature's death comes hastening to destroy. Brief is that death; — and is not ours the same? the mystic voice, that wakes the new-born year, with mightier sound shall from the dust reclaim the friend we mourn in chilly sorrow here. O, as the Spring adorned with flowers will rise, so may their virtues bear a deathless bloom, and spread and brighten in serener skies, saved through the silent winter of the tomb. F. HODGSON 87 HYMN HOW are thy servants blest, O Lord, how sure is their defence ; eternal Wisdom is their guide, their help Omnipotence. In distant lands and realms remote, supported by Thy care, through burning climes I passed unhurt, and breathed in tainted air. Thy mercy sweetened every soil, made every region please ; the hoary Alpine hills it warmed, and smoothed the Tyrrhene seas. J. ADDISON 88 UNDER THE GREENWOOD TREE UNDER the greenwood tree who loves to lie with me, and tune his merry note unto the sweet bird's throat, come hither, come hither, come hither; here shall we see no enemy, but winter and rousrh weather. into Lai hi Lyric Verse 31 Who doth ambition shun, and loves to he in the sun, seeking the food he eats, and pleased with what he gets, come hither, come hither, come hither; here shall he see no enemy, but winter and rough weather. W. SHAKESPEARE 89 A PARABLE EVERY mortal, small or great, his subtle cobweb weaves ; and seated there within elate himself a King believes, and drives his little feelers out to strike whoever dares to doubt. And when, at last, the besom strong sweeps all the work away, it seems an outrage and a wrong unheard of till to-day; as if that stroke had downward hurled the noblest palace in the world. R. M. MILNES F 90 ON THE DEPARTURE OF SUMMER *AIR summer droops, droop men and beasts therefore, so fair a summer look for never more: all good things vanish less than in a day, peace, plenty, pleasure, suddenly decay. Go not yet away, bright soul of the sad year ; the earth is hell when thou leavest to appear. What, shall those flowers that decked thy garland erst, upon thy grave be wastefully dispersed? O trees consume your sap in sorrow's source, streams turn to tears your tributary course. Go not yet hence, bright soul of the sad year; the earth is hell when thou leavest to appear, T. NASH 32 Passages for Translation 91 GUARDIAN ANGELS WHERE the angelic hosts adore Thee, Thou o'er earth and heav'n dost reign, at Thy word they rose before Thee, and Thy breath doth them sustain. From high angels Thee attending, Thou dost faithful guardians send; in mysterious ways descending, may they keep us to the end: keep us, else with wiles deceiving the persuader of all ill, round his deadly meshes weaving, the lost soul will rend and kill. 92 * TO PEACE EtpT^va fSaOvirXovre koL KaXXiCTTa fjiaKapwv Oeuiv, t,rjX6<; jxoL aeOev, ws xpovt^ets, SiSoiKa Se //.t} TTplv TToVots VTTiplSdXy] jxe yrjpcK;, TTplv adv -^(apUcrcrav TrpoctServ (Zpav KOL KaXXi)(6pov<; aotSas (jilXoaT€(fiai'OV^ T€ KWJUOVS. Wt fXOl, TTOTVta, TToAtV rdvK l\6pdv cracrtv ctpy air oikwv Ttti/ [xaLvofJievav t eptv, OrjKTio TepTTOfxlvav crtSj^pw. EVRIPIDES 93 T//E BLESSINGS OF PEACE TiKTCt Se T€ 6vaT0L(TLV Eipttva /xeyaXa ttXovtov Koi p-eXLyXwcrcnov cioiSav avOea, SatSaXecov t' IttI (SuifJLOJV Oe.OL(a SaV/ctos em8ev uXa, €v^a Kttt, Tyv TTvevcTTj ttoXt)? wj/eyxos, a TrtVus aSei. 77 KttKoi/ o yptTrew? ^w€i ^t'or, w 80^05 a vaus, Kai TTovos ivTi OaXacrcra kol IxOve's d TrXai'os aypa. avrap i/xoL yXvKV<; {Ittfos vtto TrAarai'w f3a0v- unto 0, barbarous besieger falls, who both by sword and flame himself installs, and shameless it in tears and blood doth drown ; into Latin Lyric Verse 43 her beauty spoiled, her citizens made thralls, his spite yet cannot so her all throw down, but that some statue, arch, fane of renown, yet lurks unmaimed within her weeping walls: so after all the spoil, disgrace and wreck, that time, the world and death could bring combined, amidst that mass of ruins they did make, safe and all scarless yet remains my mind: from this so high transcendent rapture springs, that I, all else defaced, not envy kings. \V. DRUMMOND 119 PLEASURES OF RETIREMENT THRICE happy he, who by some shady grove, far from the clamorous world doth live his own, though solitary, who is not alone, but doth converse with that eternal love. O how more sweet is birds' harmonious moan, or the hoarse sobbings of the widowed dove, than those smooth whisperings near a prince's throne, which good make doubtful, do the evil approve ! O how more sweet is zephyr's wholesome breath, and sighs embalmed, which new-born flow'rs unfold, than that applause vain honour doth bequeath! how sweet are streams to poison drunk in gold! the world is full of horrors, falehoods, slights: woods' harmless shades have only true delights. V W. DRUMMOXl) 120 SONNET LOOK as the flow'r which lingeringly doth fade; ■J the morning's darling late, the summer's Ouecn, spoil'd of that juice which kept it fresh and green, as high as it did raise, bows low the head ; (right so the pleasures of my life being dead, or in their contraries but only seen) with swifter speed declines than erst it spread, and, blasted, scarce now shows what it hath been : therefore, as doth the pilgrim, whom the night hastes darkly to imprison on his way, 44 Passages for Translation think on thy home, my soul ! and think aright, of what's yet left thee of life's wasting day; the sun posts westward, passed is thy morn, and twice it is not given thee to be born. W. DRUMMOND 121 "T^OTH then the world go thus, doth all thus move? i-^ is this the justice which on Earth we find? is this that firm decree which all doth bind \ are these your influences Powers above ? Those souls which vice's moody mists most blind, blind Fortune, blindly, most their friend doth prove : and they who thee, poor idol Virtue ! love, ply like a feather tossed by storm and wind. Ah! if a providence doth sway this all, why should best minds groan under most distress? or why should pride humility make thrall, and injuries the innocent oppress \ Heavens ! hinder, stop this fate ; or grant a time when good may have, as well as bad, their prime I W. DRUMMOND 122 THE ROSE LOOK, Delia, how we esteem the half-blown Rose, J the image of thy blush and summer's honour! whilst yet her tender bud doth undisclose that full of beauty Time bestows upon her. No sooner spreads her glory in the air, but straight her wide-blown pomp comes to decline ; she then is scorn'd that late adorn'd the fair; so fade the roses of those cheeks of thine ! No April can revive thy wither'd flowers, whose springing grace adorns thy glory now; swift speedy time, feather'd with flying hours, dissolves the beauty of the fairest brow. Then do not thou such treasure waste in vain ; but love now, whilst thou mayst be loved again. S. DANIEL 123 rO SLEEP *ARE-charmer sleep, son of the sable Night, brother to Death, in silent darkness born, relieve my languish, and restore the light, with dark forgetting of my care, return. c A^ into Latin Lyric Verse 45 And let the day be time enough to mourn the shipwreck of my ill-adventured youth ; let waking eyes suffice to wail their scorn, without the torment of the night's untruth. Cease, dreams, the images of day-desires, to model forth the passions of the morrow ; never let rising sun approve you liars, to add more grief to aggravate my sorrow: still let me sleep, embracing clouds in vain, and never wake to feel the day's disdain. S. DANIEL 124 SWEET CONTENT RT thou poor, yet hast thou golden slumbers? Oh, sweet content! Art thou rich, yet in thy mind perplexed? Oh, punishment ! dost thou laugh to see, how fools are vexed, to add to golden numbers golden numbers ? Oh, sweet content! canst drink the waters of the crisped spring? Oh, sweet content ! swimm'st thou in wealth, yet sink'st in thine own tears? Oh, punishment! then he, that patiently want's burden bears, no burden bears, but is a king, a king! Oh, sweet content! DEKKER AND HAUGHTON :25 TO SLEEP 'OND words have oft been spoken to thee. Sleep I and thou hast had thy store of tenderest names ; the very sweetest fancy culls or frames, when thankfulness of heart is strong and deep I dear Bosom-child we call thee, that dost steep in rich reward all suffering; IJalm that tames all anguish ; Saint, that evil thoughts and aims takest away, and into souls dost creep, like to a breeze from heaven. Shall I alone, I surely not a man ungently made, call thee worst Tyrant by which Flesh is crost? perverse, self-willed to own and to disown, mere slave of them who never for thee prayed, still last to come where thou art wanted most ! \V. WORDSWORTH F' 46 Passages for Translation M 126 LONDON MDCCCII ILTON! thou shouldst be living at this hour: England hath need of thee: she is a fen of stagnant waters: altar, sword, and pen, fireside, the heroic wealth of hall and bower, have forfeited their ancient English dower of inward happiness. We are selfish men: O ! raise us up, return to us again ; and give us manners, virtue, freedom, power. Thy soul was like a Star, and dwelt apart: thou hadst a voice whose sound was like the sea, pure as the naked heavens, majestic, free ; so didst thou travel on life's common way in cheerful godliness; and yet thy heart the lowliest duties on herself did lay. W. WORDSWORTH 127 SEPTEMBER 1815 WHILE not a leaf seems faded; while the fields, with ripening harvest prodigally fair, in brightest sunshine bask; this nipping air, sent from some distant clime where Winter wields his icy scimitar, a foretaste yields of bitter change, and bids the flowers beware; and whispers to the silent birds, ' Prepare against the threatening foe your trustiest shields.' For me, who under kindlier laws belong to Nature's tuneful quire, this rustling dry through leaves yet green, and yon crystalline sky, announce a season potent to renew, mid frost and snow, the instincflive joys of song, and nobler cares than listless summer knew. W. WORDSWORTH 128 ON THE DEPARTURE OF SIR WALTER SCOTT FROM ABBOTSFORD FOR NAPLES TROUBLE, not of clouds, or weeping rain, nor of the setting sun's pathetic light engendered, hangs o'er Eildon's triple height: .Spirits of Power, assembled there, complain for kindred Power departing from their sight: while Tweed, best pleased in chanting a blithe strain, saddens his voice again, and yet again. A into Latin Lyric Verse 47 Lift up your hearts, ye Mourners! for the might of the whole world's good wishes with him goes ; blessings and prayers in nobler retinue than sceptred king or laurelled conqueror knows,' follow this wondrous Potentate. Be true, ye winds of Ocean, and the midland sea, wafting your charge to fair Parthenope. W. WORDSWORTH 129 ON THE EXTINCTION OF THE VENETIAN REPUBLIC ONCE did She hold the gorgeous east in fee; and was the safeguard of the west: the worth of Venice did not fall below her birth, Venice the eldest child of liberty. She was a maiden city, bright and free; no guile seduced, no force could violate ; and when she took unto herself a Mate, she must espouse the everlasting Sea. And what if she had seen those glories fade, those titles vanish, and that strength decay ; yet shall some tribute of regret be paid, when her long life hath reached its final day: men are we, and must grieve when even the shade of that which once was great is pass'd away. W. WORDSWORTH 130 shNNET NOT Love, not War, nor the tumultuous swell of civil conflidl, nor the wrecks of change, nor Duty, struggling with affliclions strange — not these alone inspire the tuneful shell ; but where untroubled peace and concord dwell, there also is the Muse not loth to range, watching the twilight smoke of cot or -grange sky-ward ascending from a woody dell. Meek aspirations please her, lone endeavour, and sage content, and placid melancholy; she loves to gaze upon a crystal river — diaphanous because it travels slowly ; soft is the music that would charm for ever ; the flower of sweetest smell is shy and lowly. \\'. WORDSWORTH 48 Passages for Translation 1 3 I ARION NOT song, nor beauty, nor the wondrous power of the clear sky, nor stream, nor mountain-glen, nor the wide ocean, turn the hearts of men to love, nor give the world-embracing dower of inward gentleness : up from the bed blest by chaste beauty, men have risen to blood, and life hath perished in the flow'ry wood, and the poor traveller beneath starlight bled. Thus that musician, in his wealth of song pouring his numbers, even with the sound swimming around them would the heartless throng have thrust into his death ; but with a bound spurning the cursed ship, he sought the wave, and Nature's children did her poet save. 13 i SONNET TO THE RIVER OTTER DEAR native brook! wild streamlet of the West I how many various-fated years have past, what happy, and what mournful hours, since last I skimm'd the smooth thin stone along thy breast, numbering its light leaps ! yet so deep imprest sink the sweet scenes of childhood, that mine eyes I never shut amid the sunny ray, but straight with all their tints thy waters rise, thy crossing plank, thy marge with willows grey, and bedded sand that, veined with various dyes, gleamed through thy bright transparence! On my way, visions of childhood! oft have ye beguiled lone manhood's cares, yet waking fondest sighs : ah ! that once more I were a careless child ! S. T. COLERIDGE 133 TO APRIL EMBLEM of life, see changeful April sail in varying vest along the shadowy skies, now bidding summer's softest zephyrs rise, anon recalling winter's stormy gale, and pouring from the cloud her sudden hail; then, smiling through the tear that dims her eyes, while Iris with her braid the welkin dyes, into Latin Lyric Ve7'se 49 promise of sunshine, not so prone to fail. So to us, sojourners in life's low vale, the smiles of Fortune flatter to deceive, while still the Fates the web of misery weave: so Hope exultant spreads her airy sail, and from the present gloom the soul conveys to distant summers and far happier days. H. K. WHITE 134 TO CAPEL LOFFT ESQ. LOFFT, unto thee one tributary song ' the simple Muse, admiring, fain would bring; she longs to lisp thee to the listening throng, and with thy name to bid the woodlands ring. Fain would she blazon all thy virtues forth, thy warm philantliropy, thy justice mild, would say how thou didst foster kindred worth, and to thy bosom snatched Misfortune's child: firm she would paint thee, with becoming zeal, upright and learned as the Pylian sire, would say how sweetly thou couldst sweep the lyre, and show thy labours for the public weal, ten thousand virtues tell with joys supreme, but ah ! she shrinks abashed before the arduous theme. H, K. WHITE 1.35 TO CONSUMPTION SWEET to the gay of heart is Summer's smile, sweet the wild music of the laughing Spring ; but ah ! my soul far other scenes beguile, where gloomy storms their sullen shadows fling. Is it for me to strike the Idalian string, raise the soft music of the warbling wire, while in my ears the howls of furies ring and melancholy wastes the vital fire? Away with thoughts like these! — To some lone cave where howls the shrill blast and where sweeps tiie wave, direcfl my steps ; there, in the lonely drear, I'll sit remote from worldly noise and muse, till through my soul shall Peace her balm infuse, and whisper sounds of comfort in my ear. H, K. WHITE F. S. II. A 50 Passages for Translation 136 THE PAINS OF MEMORY WHAT time my heart unfolded its fresh leaves in spring-time gay, and scattered flowers around, a whisper warned of earth's unhealthy ground, and all that there faith's light and pureness grieves ; sun's ray and canker-worm, and suddcn-whclming storm: — but, ah I my self-will smiled, nor recked the gracious sound. So now defilement dims life's morning springs; I cannot hear an early-cherished strain, but first a joy, and then it brings a pain — fear and self-hate, and vain remorseful stings : tears lull my grief to rest, not without hope, this breast may one day lose its load, and youth yet bloom again. LYRA APOSTOLICA 137 HOPE NOW sober Cyntliia spreads her lucid beam, with quivering ray the silent glen pervades, tints the brown wood that crowns yon silvery stream, and darts fine lustres on the full cascades: through drear autumnal scenes her rays diffuse that gentle charm which soothes the pensive sigh: now Spring no more presents her blushing hues, and Summer's gaudy pageants fading fly! 'tis thus, sweet Hope ! through sorrow's blasting day thy meek-eyed light kind solace can impart, give to departing joy a lingering ray and cheer with promised good the drooping heart ; with radiant hands life's sable clouds remove, and ere the future dawns its blessings prove. 138 TO DEATH WHY art thou slow, thou rest of trouble, Death, to stop a wretch's breath, that calls on thee and offers her sad heart a prey unto thy dart? into Latin Lyric Verse 51 I am nor young nor fair ; be, therefore, bold : sorrow hath made me old, deformed and wrinkled ; all that I can crave is quiet in my grave. Such as live happy hold long life a jewel ; but to me thou art cruel, if thou end not my tedious miser\'; and I soon cease to be. Strike, and strike home, then: pity unto me, in one short hour's delay, is tyranny. P. MASSINGER. 139 AD SEIPSVM DE ADVENTV HYEMIS SUMMER'S last lingering rose is flown, the leaf has withered from the tree ; I hear the coming winter moan through the sad forest sullenly. The north wind's rage soft Zephyr flies ; and all the songsters of the grove, borne on his wing, 'mid brighter skies trill their sweet lays of joy and love. Then quit we too the rural plain ; till spring, with coronal so gay, woo young Favonius back again, and chide his coy, his long delay. Farewell ye flowers, ye streams, and thou my home, than prinqely hall more dear, seat of my soul's delight, adieu ! I go — but leave my spirit here. F. WRANGHAM 140 TO VIOLETS WELCOME, maids of Honour, you do bring in the spring; and Avait upon her. She has Virgins many, fresh and fair; yet you are more sweet than any. 4—2 52 Passages for Translation Ye are the maiden posies, and so grac'd to be plac'd 'fore damask roses. Yet though thus respecfled, by and by ye do lie, poor girls, neglecSled. R. HERRICK 1^.1 THE RULE OF LOVE AND said I that my limbs were old; fx. and said I that my blood was cold, and that my kindly fire was lied, and my poor withered heart was dead, and that I might not sing of love? — how could I to the dearest theme, that ever warmed a minstrel's dream, so foul, so false a recreant prove? how could I name love's very name, nor wake my heart to notes of flame! in peace Love tunes the shepherd's reed ; in war he mounts the warrior's steed; in halls, in gay attire is seen ; in hamlets, dances on the green. SIR W. SCOTT F' 142 OF THE SEA 'OR lo the Sea that fleets about the land, and like a girdle clips her solid waist, music and measure both doth understand; for his great crystal eye is always cast up to the moon, and on her fixed fast : and as she danceth in her pallid sphere, so danceth he about the centre here. Sometimes his proud green waves in order set, one after other, flow unto the shore, which when they have with many kisses wet, they ebb away in order as before ; and to make known his courtly love the more, he oft doth lay aside his three-forked mace, and with his arms the timorous Earth embrace. SIR J. DAVIES < ■into Laiin Lyric Verse 53 143 T T ARK ! whence that rushing sound? J- J- 'tis like the wondrous strain that round a lonely ruin swells, which, wandering on the echoing shore, the enthusiast hears at eveninsr: 'tis softer than the west wind's sigh; 'tis wilder than the unmeasured notes of that strange lyre whose strings the genii of the breezes sweep : those lines of rainbow light are like the moonbeams when they fall through some cathedral window, but the teints are such as may not find comparison on earth. P. B. SHELLEY 144 A NIGHT-PIECE ON DEA TH NOR can the parted body know, nor wants the soul, these forms of woe ; as men who long in prison dwell with lamps that glimmer round the cell, whene'er their suffering years are run, spring forth to greet the glittering sun: such joy, though far transcending sense, have pious souls at parting hence. On earth, and in the body placed, a few and evil years they waste: but, when their chains ^re cast aside, see the glad scene unfolding wide, clap the glad wing and tower away, and mingle with the blaze of day. T. PARNELL I 45 "^O ENGLAND OT yet enslaved, not wholly vile, N' O Albion! O my mother isle! thy valleys, fair as Eden's bowers, glitter green with sunny showers ; thy grassy uplands' gentle swells echo to the bleat of flocks ; (those grassy hills, those glittering dells, proudly ramparted with rocks) 54 Passages for Translation and Ocean mid his uproar wild speaks safety to his island-child, hence for many a fearless age has social Quiet loved thy shore, nor ever proud invader's rage or sacked thy towers or stained thy fields with gore. S. T. COLERIDGE 146 SONG TO ECHO SWEET Echo, sweetest nymph, that livest unseen within thy airy shell, by slow Meander's margent green, and in the violet-embroidered vale where the love-lorn nightingale nightly to thee her sad song mourneth well; canst thou not tell me of a gentle pair that likest thy Narcissus are? Oh ! if thou have hid them in some flowery cave, tell me but where, sweet queen of parley, daughter of the sphere, so mayest thou be translated to the skies, and give resounding grace to all Heaven's harmonies. J, MILTON 147 INGRA riTUDE NOT faster yonder rowers' might flings from their oars the spray, not faster yonder rippling bright, that tracks the shallop's course in light, melts in the lake away, than men from memory erase the benefits of former days. Then if in life's uncertain main mishap shall mar thy sail ; if faithful, wise and brave in vain, woe, want and exile thou sustain beneath the fickle gale; waste not a sigh on fortune changed, on tlifinkless courts or friends estranged. SIR W. SCOTT into Latin Lyric Verse 55 ^4^* TO CONTEMPLATION' I VIEW thee on the cahny shore when Ocean stills his waves to rest; or when slow-moving on the surges hoar meet with deep hollow roar and whiten o'er his breast; or lo ! the moon with softer radiance gleams, and lovelier heave the billows in her beams. When the low gales of evening moan along, J love with thee to feel the calm cool breeze, and roam the pathless forest wilds among, listening tlie mellow murmur of the trees fuU-foliaged, as they lift their arms on high and wave their shadowy heads in wildest melody. R. SOUTHEY 1 49 ON THE WINTER SOLSTICE 1740 OTHOU my lyre, awake, arise, and hail the sun's returning force; even now he climbs the northern skies, and health and hope attend his course. Then louder howl the aerial waste, be earth with keener cold embraced, yet gentle hours advance their wing; and Fancy, mocking Winter's might, with flowers and dews^and streaming light already decks the new-born spring. O fountain of the golden day, could mortal vows promote thy speed, how soon before thy vernal ray should each unkindly damp recede! how soon each hovering tempest fly, whose stores for mischief arm the sky ! M. AKENSIDE 15° DAVID'S SONG TO MICHAL A WAKE, awake, my Ljtc ! ■l\. and tell thy silent master's humble tale in sounds that may prevail ; sounds that gentle thoughts inspire. S6 Passages for Translation Though so exalted she, and I so lowly be, tell her, such different notes make all thy harmony. Hark! how the strings awake: and, though the moving hand approach not near, themselves with awful fear a kind of numerous trembling make. Now all thy forces try; now all thy charms apply; revenge upon her ear the conquests of her eye. 151 Weak Lyre ! thy virtue sure is useless here, since thou art only found to cure, but not to wound, and she to wound, but not to cure. Too weak too wilt thou prove my passion to reiTiove ; physic to other ills, thou'rt nourishment to love. Sleep, sleep again, my Lyre! for thou canst never tell my humble tale in sounds that will prevail, nor gentle thoughts in her inspire; all thy vain mirth lay by, bid thy strings silent lie, sleep, sleep again, my Lyre, and let thy master die. A. COWLEY 152 REDEEM THE PAST 'IS vanished all — in hurried flight — ;i-pj ere yet 1 felt Time's trophies white were sprinkled on my brow, — or thought, that since the light beamed on me, what long years had flown; time's snows are on my forehead thrown, and many a winter now and many a spring are gone. But what doth this, all this, avail? for soon, too soon, oblivion pale will blot alike the good and evil of my tale. 'Twill then be said — whoe'er thou be, that world is lost, which flattered thee, and all thou hast pursued is fruitless vanity. Oh ! while thy sinful soul can cast sin's robes away — redeem the past, if not in deeds, in words to praise thy Maker haste. H into Latin Lyric Verse ^j 153 LIFE OW short is Life's uncertain space ! how quickly is it run! how swift the wild precarious chase, anxious and difficult the race! and what the prize when won ! Youth stops at first its wilful ears to Wisdom's kindest voice ; till now arrived to riper years, experienced age, worn out with cares, repents its earlier choice. What though its prospefls now appear so grateful to the mind ; yet groundless Hope, and teasing Fear, by turns the busy moments share, and leave a sting behind. J. MERRICK 154 II£A VEN *HIS world is all a fleeting show, for man's illusion given ; the smiles of Joy, the tears of Woe, deceitful shine, deceitful floAv — there's nothing true but Heaven! And false the hght on Glory's plume, as fading hues of even ; and Love and Hope, and Beauty's bloom are blossoms gathered from the tomb — there's nothing bright but Heaven! Poor wanderers of a stormy day, from wave to wave we're driven, and Fancy's flash and Reason's ray serve but to light the troubled way- there 's nothing calm but Heaven! T. MOORE 155 ON REVISITING THE SCENES OF HIS CHILDHOOD WITH lorn dehght the scene I view'd, past joys and sorrows were renew'd ; my infant hopes and fears look'd lovely through the solitude of retrospeiflive years. T' 58 Passages for Translation And still, in Memory's twilight bowers, the spirits of departed hours, with mellowing tints, pdurtray the blossoms of life's vernal flowers for ever fall'n away. Till youth's delirious dream is o'er, sanguine with hope, we look before, the future good to find; in age, when error charms no more, for bliss we look behind. J. MONTGOMERY M 156 MORPHEUS ORPHEUS, the humble god that dwells in cottages and smoky cells, hates gilded roofs and beds of down ; and though he fears no prince's frown, flies from the circle of a crown. Come, I say, thou powerful god, and thy leaden charming rod dipt in the Lethean lake, o'er his wakeful temples shake, lest he should sleep and never wake. Nature, alas ! why art thou so obliged to thy greatest foei Sleep, that is thy best repast, yet of death it bears a taste, and both are the same thing at last. SIR J. DENHAM E 157 TO A CHILD EMBRACING HIS MOTHER OVE thy mother, little one ! kiss and clasp her neck again,^ hereafter she may have a son will kiss and clasp her neck in vain. Love thy mother, little one ! Gaze upon her living eyes, and mirror back her love for thee, — hereafter thou ma/st shudder sighs to meet them when they cannot see. Gaze upon her living eyes ! I into Latin Lyric Verse Press her lips the while they glow with love that they have often told, — hereafter thou may'st press in woe, and kiss them till thine own are cold. Press her lips the while they glow ! 158 THE RESTORATION OF HELLAS THE world's great age begins anew, the golden years return, the earth doth like a snake renew her winter weeds outworn : a brighter Hellas rears its mountains from waves serener far ; a new Peneus rolls its fountains against the morning-star. Where fairer Tempes bloom, there sleep young Cyclads on a sunnier deep. Another Athens shall arise, and to remoter time bequeath, like sunset to the skies, the splendour of its prime ; and leave, if nought so bright may live, all earth can take or heaven can give. p. B. 159 SONG TO ECHO SWEET Echo, sleeps thy vocal shell, where this high arch o'erhangs the dell ; while Tweed, with sun^refleding streams, chequers thy rocks with dancing beams \ Here may no clamours harsh intrude, no brawling hound or clarion rude ; here no fell beast of midnight prowl, and teach thy tortured cliffs to howl. Be thine to pour these vales along some artless shepherd's evening song ; while night's sweet bird from yon high spray responsive listens to his lay. And if, like me, some love-lorn maid should sing her sorrows to thy shade, O, soothe her breast, ye rocks around, with softest sympathy of sound. 59 T. HOOD SHELLEY E. DARWIN 6o Passages for Translation i60 THE WISH WELL, then, I now do plainly see this busy world and I shall ne'er agree ; the very honey of all earthly joy does of all meats the soonest cloy : and they (methinks) deserve my pity who for it can endure the stings, the crowd, and buz, and murmurings of this great hive, the City. Ah ! yet, ere I descend to the grave, may I a small house and large garden have ! and a few friends, and many books, both true, both wise, and both delightful too I and since Love ne'er will from me flee, a Mistress moderately fair, and good as guardian-angels are, only beloved and loving me ! A. COWLEY 161 LOVE OF SOLITUDE I WOULD I were a careless child, still dwelling in my Highland cave, or roaming through the dusky wild, or bounding o'er the dark blue wave; the cumbrous pomp of Saxon pride accords not with the freeborn soul, which loves the mountain's craggy side, and seeks the rocks where billows roll. Fortune! take back these cultured lands, take back this name of splendid sound! I hate the touch of servile hands, I hate the slaves that cringe around. Place me among the rocks I love, which sound to Ocean's wildest roar; I ask but this — again to rove through scenes my youth hath known before. 162 Few are my years, and yet I feel the world was ne'er designed for me: ah ! why do dark'ning shades conceal the hour when man must cease to be? into Latin Lyric Verse 6i Once I beheld a splendid dream, a visionary scene of bliss : truth !— wherefore did thy hated beam awake me to a world like this ? I loved — but those I loved are gone ; had friends — my early friends are fled: how cheerless feels the heart alone when all its former hopes are dead! Though gay companions o'er the bowl dispel awhile the sense of ill ; though pleasure stirs the maddening soul, the heart— the heart — is lonely still. 163 How dull! to hear the voice of those whom rank or chance, whom wealth or power, have made, though neither friends nor foes, associates of the festive hour. Give me again a faithful few, in years and feelings still the same, and I will fly the midnight crew, where boisterous joy is but a name. Fain would I fly the haunts of men — I seek to shun, not hate mankind ; my breast requires the sullen glen, whose gloom may suit a darkened mind. Oh ! that to me the wings were given which bear the turtle to her nest ! then would I cleave thfe vault of heaven, to flee away, and be at rest. LORD BYRON T64 THE POET'S TRANCE ENDED The solemn harmony paused, and the spirit of that mighty singing to its abyss was suddenly withdrawn ; then as a wild swan, when sublimely ^winging its path athwart the thunder-smoke of dawn, sinks headlong through the aerial golden light on the heavy sounding plain, when the bolt has pierced its brain ; as summer clouds dissolve unburthened of their rain ; 62 Passages for Translation as a far taper fades with fading night ; as a brief insert dies with dying day, my song, its pinions disarrayed of might, drooped; o'er it closed the echoes far away of the great voice which did its flight sustain, as waves which lately paved his watery way hiss round^a drowner's head in their tempestuous play. P. B. SHELLEY 1 6^ DESPONDENC Y c AN Love again o'er this sad breast resume his long-forgotten reign % again his downy plume invest a heart, by sorrow chilled to stone? again expand his infant wing o'er the dark void of deep despair? and bid the roseate blushes spring e'en from the pallid cheek of care? Can the quick pulse of fond alarm in this cold bosom dare to beat? the trembling joy, the anxious charm, the bitter struggling with the sweet? Ah ! no, all cold and dark and void, scarce beams one spark of genial fire ; the very power of Love destroyed, (), Life! in mercy too expire. 1 6 6 THERMOP I 'L /E SHOUT for the- mighty men, who died along this shore — who died within this mountain glen! for never nobler chieftain's head was laid on Valour's crimson bed, nor ever prouder gore sprang forth, than theirs who won the day upon thy strand, Thermopylce! Shout for the mighty men, who on the Persian tents, like lions from their midnight den bounding on the slumbering deer, rush'd— a storm of sword and spear; — like the roused elements, into Latin Lyric Verse 63 let loose from an immortal hand, to chasten or to crush a land! '^^'] THE BOWL G. CROLY WHEN the wear>'ing- cares of state oppress the monarch with their weight, when from his pomp retired alone he feels the duties of the throne, feels that the multitude below depend on him for weal or woe ; when his powerful will may bless a realm with peace and happiness, or with desolating breath breathe ruin round and woe and death; oh! give to him the flowing bowl, bid it humanize his soul; he shall not feel the empire's weight, he shall not feel the cares of state, the bowl shall each dark thought beguile, and nations live and prosper from his smile. R. SOUTH EV 168 THE FOLLY OF MAKING TROUBLES WHEN we meet as when we part, why should sighs attend us, making sad the gayest heart Heaven is pleased to send us? Why, when all is bright to-day, should man choose to borrow- something from the darker ray destined for to-morrow? If indeed to-mon'ow brings what is like to sear us, why not seize by both its wings pleasure, while 'tis near us? Why still float life's ocean o'er, missing joys designed us, casting anxious eyes before, tearful ones behind us? 64 Passages for Tra7islaiion 169 SWEET EVENING HOUR SWEET evening hour! sweet evening hour! that cahns the air and shuts the flower, that brings the wild bee to its nest, the infant to its mother's breast. Sweet hour! that bids the labourer cease, that gives the weary team release, and leads them home, and crowns them there with rest and shelter, food and care. O season of soft sounds and hues, of twilight walks among the dews, of feelings calm and converse sweet, and thoughts too shadowy to repeat ! yes, lovely hour! thou art the time when feelings flow and* wishes climb, v.'hen timid souls begin to dare, and God receives and answers prayer. 1 70. SPRING WEET daughter of a rough and stormy sire, hoar Winters blooming child, delightful Spring! whose unshorn locks with leaves and swelling buds are crowned ; from the green islands of eternal youth (crowned with fresh blooms and ever-springing shade) turn, hither turn thy step, O thou, whose powerful voice, more sweet than softest touch of Doric reed or Lydian flute, can soothe the madding winds, and through the stormy deep breathe thy own tender calm. Unlock thy copious stores; those tender showers that drop their sweetness on the infant buds; and silent dews that swell the milky ear's green sten^. 17^ O nymph ! approach, while yet the temperate sun, with bashful forehead, through the cool moist air throws his young maiden beams, and with chaste kisses wooes S' into Latin Lyric Verse 65 the earth's fair bosom ; while the streaming' veil of lucid clouds with kind and frequent shade prote(fls thy modest blooms from his severer blaze. Sweet is thy reign, but short: the red dog-star shall scorch thy tresses ; and the mower's sithe thy greens, thy flowerets all, remorseless shall destroy. Reluftant shall I bid thee then farewell; for, O! not all that Autumn's lap contains, nor Summer's ruddiest fruits, can aught for thee atone. A. L. BARBAUI.n 172 FITZEUSTACE'S SOXG WHERE shall the lover rest, whom the fates sever from his true maiden's breast, parted for evtri Where, through groves deep and high, sounds the far billow, where early violets die under the willow. There through the summer-day cool streams are laving; there, while the tempests sway, scarce are boughs waiving ; there thy rest shalt thou take, parted for ever, never again to wake- never, O never! ' 173 Where shall the traitor rest, he, the deceiver, who could win maiden's breast, ruin, and leave her? In the lost battle, borne down by the flying, where mingles war's rattle with groans of the dying. F. S.' II. -5 66 Passages for Translation Her wing shall the eagle flap o'er the false-hearted ; his warm blood the wolf shall lap ere life be parted : shame and dishonour sit by his grave ever; blessing shall hallow it never, O never! SIR W, SCOTT OCTOBER WINDS OCTOBER winds, wi' biting breath, now nip the leaf that's yellow fading; nae gowans glint upon the green, alas! they're co'er'd wi' winter's deeding. As through the woods I musing gang, nae birdies cheer me frae the bushes, save little Robin's lanely sang, wild warbling where the burnie gushes. The sun is jogging down the brae, dimly through the mist he's shining, and cranreugh hoar creeps o'er the grass, as day resigns his throne to e'ening. Oft let me walk at twilight grey, to view the face of dying nature, till spring again with mantle green delights the heart o' ilka creature. J. SCADLOCK 175 TO MEMORY O MEMORY, celestial maid, who glean'st the flow'rets crept by time, and, suffering not a leaf to fade, preserv'st the blossoms of our prime: bring, bring those moments to my mind, when life was new, and all was kind ; and bring that garland to my sight, with which my favour'd crook was bound: and bring that wreath of roses bright, which then my festive temples crown'd, into Latin Lyric Verse and once more to my ear convey the strains that wak'd a happier day ; and sketch with care the Muses' bovver; nor yet omit a single flower, of all that fling their sweetness round, 67 and seem to consecrate the ground i VV. SHENSTOXE 175 THE LOSS YET ere I go, disdainful Beauty, thou shalt be so wretched, as to know what joys thou fling'st away with me. A faith so bright, as Time or Fortune could not rust ; so firm, that lovers might have read thy story in my dust, and crowned thy name with laurel verdant as thy youth, whilst the shrill voice of Fame spread wide thy beauty and my truth. This thou hast lost ; for all true lovers, when they find that my just aims were crost, will speak thee lighter than the wind. T. STANLEY 177 HORATIVS^COCLES WHEN the oldest cask is opened, and the largest lamp is lit ; when the chestnuts glow in the embers, and the kid turns on the spit ; when young and old in circle around the firebrands close ; when the girls are weaving baskets, and the lads are shaping bows ; when the goodman mends his armour, and trims his helmet's plume ; when the goodwife's shuttle merrily goes flashing through the loom ; 68 Passages foi- Translation with weeping and with laughter still is the story told, how well Horatius kept the bridge in the brave days of old. LORD MACAU LAY L UCY I TRAVELLED among unknown men in lands beyond the sea ; nor, England ! did I know till then what love I bore to thee. Tis past, that melancholy dreamt nor will 1 quit thy shore a second time ; for still I seem to love thee more and more. Among thy mountains did I feel the joy of my desire; and she I cheri-shed turned her wheel beside an English fire. Thy mornings showed, thy nights concealed the bowers where Lucy played ; and thine too is the last green field that Lucy's eyes surveyed. W. WORDSWORTH 79 LOVE AND MUSIC WHAT woke the buried sound that lay in Memnon^s harp of yore? what spirit on its viewless way along the Nile's green shore? Oh! not the night, and not the storm, and not the lightning's fire; but sunlight's torch, the kind, the warm — this, this awoke the lyre. What wins the heart's deep chords to pour thus music forth on life — ■ like a sweet voice prevailing o'er the truant sounds of strife? into Latin Lyj-ic Verse 6g Oh! not thelconfliCl midst the throng, not e'en the trumpet's hour; love is the gifted and the strong to Avake that music's power! F. HEMANS ib'o IL PEA^SEROSO K ND when the sun begins to fling . his flaring beams, me. Goddess, bring to arched walks of twilight groves, and shadows brown, that Sylvan lo\es, of pine, or monumental oak, where the rude axe with heaved stroke was never heard the Nymphs to daunt, or fright them from their hallowed haunt. There in close covert by some brook, where no profaner eye may look, hide me from day's garish eye, while the bee with honeyed thigh, that at her flower}' work doth sing, and the waters murmuring, with such consort as they keep, entice the dewy-feathered Sleep. J. -MILTON iHl TO DAFFODILS FAIR Daffodils, we weep to see you haste away so. soon: as yet the early-rising Sun has not attain'd his noon. Stay, stay, until the hasting day has run but to the even-song; and, having pray'd together, we will go with you along. We have short time to stay, as }oi we have as short a Spring; as quick a growth to meet decay as you, or any thing. 70 Passages for Translation We die, as your hours do, and dry away like to the Summer's rain; or as the pearls of morning's dew, ne'er to be found again. R. HERRICK. 182 ON THE DEATH OF A SON TYRANT of man! Imperious Fate! I bow before thy dread decree, nor hope in this uncertain state to find a seat secure from thee. Life is a dark, tumultuous stream, with many a care and sorrow foul, yet thoughtless mortals vainly deem, that it can yield a limpid bowl. Think not that stream will backward flow, or cease its destined course to keep; as soon the blazing spark shall glow beneath the surface of the deep. Believe not Fate at thy command will grant a meed she never gave; as soon the airy tower shall stand, that's built upon a passing wave. J. D. CARLYLE 183 A LAMENT SWIFTER far than summer's flight, swifter far than youth's delight, swifter far than happy night, art thou come and gone; as the earth when leaves are dead, as the night when sleep is sped, as the heart when joy is fled, 1 am left lone, alone. into Latin Lyric Verse 71 Lilies for a bridal bed, roses for a matron's head, violets for a maiden dead, pausies let my flowers be: on the living grave I bear, scatter them without a tear, let no friend, however dear, waste one hope, one fear for me. p. B. SHELLEY 184 ' THE MOUNTAIN BOY WHAT liberty so glad and gay, as where the mountain boy, reckless of regions far away, a prisoner lives in joy? The dreary sounds of crowded earth, the cries of camp or town, never untuned his lonely mirth, nor drew his visions down. The snow-clad peaks of rosy light, that meet his morning view, the thwarting cliffs that bound his sight, they bound his fancy too. Two ways alone his roving eye for aye may onward go, or in the azure deep on high or darksome me/e below. J. KEBLE o 185 ELEGY SNATCH'D away in beauty's bloom! on thee shall press no ponderous tomb ; but on thy turf shall roses rear their leaves, the earliest of the year, and the wild cypress wave in tender gloom: and oft by yon blue gushing stream shall Sorrow lean her drooping head, and feed deep thought with many a dream, and lingering pause and lightly tread ; fond wretch! as if her step disturb'd the dead! 7- Passages for Translation Away! we know that tears are vain, that Death nor heeds nor hears distress: will this unteach us to complain? or make one mourner weep the less? And thou, who tell'st me to forget, thy looks are wan, thine eyes are wet. LORD BYRON 186 ON THE DEATH OF A YOUNG LADY THE peace of Heaven attend thy shade, my early friend, my favourite maid ! when life was new, companions gay, we hailed the morning of our day. Ah, with what joy did I behold the flower of beauty fair unfold! and feared no storm to blast thy bloom, or bring thee to an early tomb ! Untimely gone! for ever fled the roses of the cheek so red ; the afledlion warm, the temper mild, the sweetness that in sorrow smiled. Alas ! the cheek where beauty glowed, the heart where goodness overflowed, a clod amid the valley lies, and 'dust to dust' the mourner cries. I ■57 O from thy kindred early torn, and to thy grave untimely borne ! vanished for ever from my view, thou sister of my soul, adieu ! Fair, with my first ideas twined, thine image oft will meet my mind ; and, while remembrance brings thee near, affcflion sad will drop a tear. , How oft does sorrow bend the head, before we dwell among the dead ! scarce in the years of manly prime, I've often wept the wrecks of time. into Latin Lyric Verse 73 What tragic tears bedew the eye! what deaths we suffer ere we die! our broken friendships we deplore, and lovas of youth that are no more ! l88. No after-friendship e'er can raise the endearments of our early days ; and ne'er the heart such fondness prove, as when it first began to love. Affedlion dies, a vernal flower; and love, the blossom of an hour; the spring of fancy cares control, and mar the beauty of the soul. Versed in the commerce of deceit, how soon the heart forgets to beat ! the blood runs cold at Interest's call; — they look with equal eyes on all. Then lovely Nature is expelled, and Friendship is romantic held ; then Prudence comes with hundred eyes: the veil is rent: the vision flies. l8y The dear illusions will not last; the era of enchantment's past; the wild romance of life is done ; the real history is begun. The sallies of the soul are o'er, the feast of fancy is no more ; and ill the banquet is supplied by form, by gravity, by pride. Ye gods ! whatever ye withhold, let my affeftions ne'er grow old ; ne'er may the human glow depart, nor Nature yield to <'rigid Art! Still may the generous bosom burn, though doomed to bleed o'er beauty's urn ; and still the friendly face appear, though moistened with a tender tear! J. LOG.VX ^ \ 74 Passages for Translation 190 THE ALPS AT DAYBREAK THE sun-beams streak the azure skies, and line with Hght the mountain's brow: with hounds and horns the hunters rise, and chase the roebuck through the snow. From rock to rock, with giant-bound, high on their iron poles they pass ; mute, lest the air, convulsed by sound, rend from above a frozen mass. The goats wind slow their wonted way, up craggy steeps and ridges rude ; marked by the wild wolf for his prey, from desert cave or hanging wood. And while the torrent thunders loud, and as the echoing cliffs reply, the huts peep o'er the morning-cloud, perched, like an eagle's nest, on high. J9I S. ROGERS MUTABILITY WE are as clouds that veil the midnight moon ; how restlessly they speed and gleam and quiver, streaking the darkness radiantly ! — yet soon night closes round, and they are lost for ever : or like forgotten lyres, whose dissonant strings give various response to each varying blast, to whose frail frame no second motion brings one mood or modulation like the last. We rest — a dream has power to poison sleep ; we rise — one wandering thought pollutes the day; we feel, conceive or reason, laugh or weep ; embrace fond woe, or cast our cares away: it is the same! For, be it joy or sorrow, the path of its departure still is free; man's yesterday may ne'er be like his morrow; nought may endure but Mutability. P. B. SHELLEY into Latm Lyric Verse 75 193 THE YEAR I N childhood, when with eager eyes the season-measured year I viewed, all, garbed in fairy guise, pledged constancy of good. Spring sang of heaven ; the summer-flowers let me gaze on, and did not fade ; even suns o'er autumn's bowers heard my strong wish, and stayed. They came and went — the short-lived four, yet as their varying dance they wove, to my young heart each bore its own sure claim of love. Far different now; — the whirling year vainly my dizzy eyes pursue ; and its fair tints appear all blent in one dusk hue. LYRA APOSTOLICA 193 HYMN TO LIGHT FIRST-BORN of Chaos, who so fair did'st come from the old Negro's darksome womb! which when it saw the lovely child, the melancholy mass put on kind looks and smiled. Thou tide of glory, which no rest doth know, but ever ebb and ever flow ! thou golden shower oC a true Jove ! who does in thee descend, and Heaven to Earth make love ! Hail acflive Nature's watchful life and health! her joy, her ornament and wealth ! hail to thy husband heat and thee! thou the world's beauteous Bride, the lusty Bride- groom he ! Say from what golden quivers of the sky do all thy winged arrows fly ? » 76 Passages for Translation swiftness and power by birth are thine : from thy great Sire they came, thy Sire the Word divine. 194 Swift as light thoughts their empty career run, thy race is finished, when begun: let a Post-angel start with thee, and thou the goal of Earth shalt reach as soon as he. Thou in the Moon's bright chariot, proud and gay, dost the bright wood of stars survey ; and all the year doth with thee bring a thousand flowery lights, thine own noclurnal spring. Night and her ugly subjecfls thou dost fright, and sleep, the lazy owl of Night; asham'd and fearful to appear, they screen their horrid shapes with the black Hemi- sphere. With them there hastes, and wildly takes th' alarm, of painted dreams a busy swarm ; at the first opening of thine eye the various clusters break, the antic atoms fly. The guilty serpents and obscener beasts creep conscious to their secret rests ; Nature to thee does reverence pay, ill omens and ill sights removes out of thy way. 195 At thy appearance. Grief itself is said to shake his wings and rouse his head ; and cloudy Care has often took a gentle beamy smile refledl;ed from thy look. At thy appearance. Fear itself grows bold; thy sunshine melts away his cold; encouraged at the sight of thee, to the cheek colour comes and firmness to the knee. Even Lust, the master of a hardened face, blushes if thou be'st in the place; to darkness' curtains he retires, in sympathising night he rolls his smoky fires. When, Goddess, thou lift'st up thy wak'ncd head out of the morning's purple bed, into Latin Lyric Verse 77 thy quire of birds about thee play, and all the joyful world salutes the rising day. The ghosts and monster spirits, that did presume a body's privilege to assume, vanish again invisibly and bodies gain again their visibility. 196 All the world's bravery, that delights our eyes, is but thy several liveries: thou the rich dye on them bestow'st, thy nimble pencil paints this landscape as thou go'st. A crimson garment in the rose thou wear'st ; a crown of studded gold thou bear'st, the virgin lilies in their white are clad but with the lawn of almost naked light. The violet, spring's little infant, stands girt in thy purple swaddling-bands: on the fair tulip thou dost dole ; thou cloth'st it with a gay and party-coloured coat. With flame condens'd thou dost the jewels fix, and solid colours in it mix: Flora herself envies to see flowers fairer than her own, and durable as she. Ah, Goddess ! would thou could'st thy hand w^ithhold and be less liberal to gold ; didst thou less value to it give of how much care, alas ! might'st thou poor man relieve ! 197 To me the Sun is more delightful far, and all fair days much, fairer are ; but few, ah wondrous few there be who do not gold prefer, O Goddess! ev'n to thee. Through the soft ways of heaven and air and sea, which open all their pores to thee, like a clear river thou dost glide, and with thy living stream through the close channels slide. But, where firm bodies thy free course oppose, gently thy source the land o'erflows; 78 Passages for Translation takes there possession and does make, of colours mingled, light, a thick and standing lake. But the vast ocean of unbounded day in th' empyrean heaven does stay: thy rivers, lakes and springs below, from thence took first their rise, thither at last must flow. A. COWLEY I9S LOVE'S PHILOSOPHY THE fountains mingle with the river and the rivers with the ocean, the winds of heaven mix for ever with a sweet emotion ; nothing in the world is single, all things by a law divine in one another's being mingle — why not I with thine ! See the mountains kiss high heaven and the waves clasp one another; no sister flower would be forgiven if it disdain'd its brother: and the sunlight clasps the earth, and the moonbeams kiss the sea — • what are all these kissings worth, if thou kiss not me? P. B. SHELLEY J 99 SONG FOR THE WANDERING JEW THOUGH the torrents from their fountains roar down many a craggy steep, yet they find among the mountains resting-places calm and deep. Clouds that love through air to hasten, ere the storm its fury stills, helmet-like themselves will fasten on the heads of towering hills. If on windy days the Raven gambol like a dancing skiff, not the less she loves her haven in the bosom of the cliff. into Latin Lyric Verse 79 Day and night my toils redouble, never nearer to the goal; night and day, I feel the trouble of the Wanderer in my soul. W. WORDSWORTH 200 CALM AFTER A STORM IN ASIA HOW calm, how beautiful comes on the stilly hour, when storms are gone; when warring winds have died away, and clouds, beneath the glancing ray, melt off, and leave the land and sea sleeping in bright tranquillity, — fresh, as if Day again were born, again upon the lap of Morn! — When the light blossoms, rudely torn and scattered at the whirlwind's will, hang floating in the pure air still, filling it all with precious balm, in gratitude for this sweet calm; — and every drop the thunder-showers have left upon the grass and flowers sparkles, as 'twere that lightning gem, whose liquid flame is born of them! T. MOORE 201 SONG OF THE PRIEST OF PAN SHEPHERDS, rise and shake off sleep! see, the blushing morn doth peep through the windows, whilst the sun to the mountain-tops is run, gilding all the vales below ' with its rising flames, which grow greater by his climbing still. Up, ye lazy grooms, and fill bag and bottle for the field! Clasp your cloaks fast, lest they yield to the bitter north-east wind. Call the maidens up, and find who lay longest, that she may go without a friend all day; 8o Passages for Translation then reward your dogs, and pray Pan to keep you from decay: so, unfold, and then away ! 202 DO MI SI'S DOMINAXTIVM J. FLETCHER SUPREME Divinity! who yet could ever find by the cold scrutiny of wit the treasury" where Thou lock'st up the wind? What majesty of princes can a tempest awe, when the distra(fled ocean swells to sedition, and obeys no law? How wretched doth the tyrant stand without a boast, when his rich fleet even touching land he by some storm in his own port sees lost! Vain pomp of life ! what narrow bound ambition is circled with ! How false a ground hath human pride to build its triumphs on! W. HABINGTON 203 ' REQVIESCAT STREW on her roses, roses, but never a spray of yew: in silence she reposes, ah ! would that I did too. Her mirth the world required, she bathed it in smiles and glee : but her heart was tired, tired, and now they let her be. Her life was turning, turning, in mazes of heat and sound: but for peace her soul was yearning, and now peace laps her round : Her cabined, ample Spirit, it fluttered and failed for breath: to-night it doth inherit the vasty Hall of Death. M. ARNOLD into Latin Lyric Verse 8i 204 A MOTHER'S DIRGE OVER HER CHILD BRING me flowers all young and sweet, that I may strew the winding sheet where calm thou sleepest, baby fair, with roseless cheek and auburn hair. No more, my baby, shalt thou lie, with drowsy smile and half- shut eye, pillowed upon my fostering breast, serenely sinking into rest ! The grave must be thy cradle now, the wild flowers o'er thy breast shall grow, while still my heart, all full of thee, in widowed solitude shall be. No taint of earth, no thought of sin, e'er dwelt thy stainless breast within, and God hath laid thee down to sleep, like a pure pearl below the deep. D. M. MOIR 205 IN MEMORIAM CALM is the morn without a sound, calm as to suit a calmer grief, and only through the faded leaf the chesnut pattering to the ground: calm and deep peace on this high wold, and on these dews that drench the furze, and all the silvery gossamers that twinkle into green and gold: calm and still light on yon great plain that sweeps with all its autumn bowers, and crowded farms and lessening towers to mingle with the bounding main: calm and deep peace in this wide air, these leaves that redden in the fall; and in my heart if calm at all, if any calm, a calm despair: F. S. II. 82 Passages for Translation calm on the seas, and silver sleep, and waves that sway themselves in rest, and dead calm in that noble breast which heaves but with the heaving deep. A. TENNYSON 206 THE LAST CONQUEROR VICTORIOUS men of earth, no more proclaim how wide your empires are; though you bind in every shore, and your triumphs reach as far as night or day, yet you, proud monarchs, must obey, and mingle with forgotten ashes, when death calls ye to the crowd of common men. Devouring Famine, Plague, and War, each able to undo mankind, death's servile emissaries are; nor to these alone confined, he hath at will more quaint and subtle ways to kill; a smile or kiss, as he will use the art, shall have the cunning skill to break a heart. J. SHIRLEY 207 SONNET TRUST not, sweet soul, those curled waves of gold with gentle tides that on your temples flow, nor temples spread with flakes of virgin snow, nor snow of cheeks with Tyrian grain enrolled. Trust not those shining lights which wrought my woe A when first I did their azure rays behold, nor voice whose sounds more strange efifecfls do show than of the Thracian harper have been told ; look to this dying lily, fading rose, dark hyacinth, of late whose blushing beams made all the neighbouring herbs and grass rejoice, • and think how little is twixt's life's extremes : — the cruel tyrant that did kill those flowers shall once, ay me ! not spare that spring of yours. W. DRUMMOND into Latin Lyric Verse Z^ 208 A FAREWELL FLOW down, cold rivulet, to the sea, thy tribute wave deliver ; no more by thee my steps shall be, for ever and for ever. Flow, softly flow, by lawn and lea, A rivulet then a river; no where by thee my steps shall be, for ever and for ever. But here will sigh thine alder tree, and here thine aspen shiver; and here by thee will hum the bee, for ever and for ever. A thousand suns will stream on thee, A thousand moons will quiver; but not by thee my steps shall be, for ever and for ever. A. TENNYSON 209 LITANY OF THE HOLY SPIRIT IN the hour of my distress, when temptations sore oppress, and when I my sins confess, sweet Spirit, comfort me ! When I lie within my bed, sick in heart and sick in head, and with doubts discomfited, sweet Spirit, comfort me! When the house doth sigh and weep, and the world is drowned in sleep, yet mine eyes their vigils keep, sweet Spirit, comfort me! When the Judgment is revealed, and that open which was sealed, when to Thee I have appealed, sweet Spirit, comfort me! R, HERRICK 6-2 84 Passages for Translation 2 I O JOHN ANDERSON JOHN Anderson my jo, John, when we were first acquent your locks were hke the raven, your bonnie brow was brent ; but now your brow is bald, John, your locks are like the snow ; but blessings on your frosty pow, John Anderson my jo. John Anderson my jo, John, we clamb the hill thegither, and monie a cantie day, John, we've had wi' ana anither; now we maun totter down, John, but hand in hand we'll go, and sleep thegither at the foot, John Anderson my jo. R. BURNS 211 TO THE DAISY THEE Winter in the garland wears that thinly decks his few grey hairs; Spring parts the clouds with softest airs, that she may sun thee; whole Summer-fields are thine by right; and Autumn, melancholy Wight! doth in thy crimson head delight when rains are on thee. Be violets in their secret mews the flowers the wanton Zephyrs choose ; proud be the rose, with rains and dews her head impearling; thou liv'st with less ambitious aim, yet -hast not gone without thy fame; thou art indeed by many a claim the Poet's darling. 'o* 212 If to a rock from rains he fly, or, some bright day of April sky, imprisoned by hot sunshine lie near the green holly, ^ into Latin Lyric Verse 85 and wearily at length should fare; he needs but look about, and there thou art ! — a friend at hand, to scare his melancholy. Child of the year! that round dost run i;hy pleasant course, — when day's begun as ready to salute the sun as lark or leveret, thy long-lost praise thou shalt regain; nor be less dear to future men than in old time; — thou not in vain art Nature's favourite. W. WORDSWORTH 313 PROOF TO NO PURPOSE YOU see this gentle stream that glides, shov'd on by quick succeeding tides: try if this sober stream you can follow to the wilder ocean: and see, if there it keeps unspent in that congesting element : next, from that world of waters, then by pores and caverns back again induc'd that inadullerate same stream to the spring from whence it came : this with a wonder when ye do, as easy, and else easier too, then may ye recolle(fl the grains of my particular remains ; after a thousand lustres hurl'd, by ruffling winds, about the world. R. HERRICK 214 TO THE CORAL INSECT T OIL on! toil on! ye ephemeral train, who build in the tossing and treacherous main ; toil on, — for the wisdom of man ye mock, with your sand-based struflures and domes of roGk ; your columns the fathomless fountains lave, and your arches spring up through the crested wave ; you're a puny race, thus to boldly rear a fabric so vast in a realm so drear. 86 Passages for Translatid7i But why do ye plant "neath the billows dark the wrecking reef, for the gallant bark ? there are snares enough on the tented field; 'mid the blossomed sweets that the valleys yield ; there are serpents to coil ere the flowers are up ; there's a poison-drop-in man's purest cup; there are foes that watch for his cradle breath, and why need ye sow the floods with death? L. H. SIGOURNEY 215 AN EPITAPH THIS little vault, this narrow room, of love and beauty is the tomb : the dawning beam, that 'gan to clear our clouded sky, lies darkened here; for ever set to us by death, sent to enflame the world beneath. Twas but a bud, yet did contain more sweetness than shall spring again, a budding star that might have grown into a suu, when it had blown. This hopeful beauty did create new life in love's declining state ; but now his empire ends, and we from fire and wounding darts are free; his brand, his bow, let no man fear ; the flames, the arrows all lie here. T. CAREW 216 ' EXTREME OF LOVE OR HATE GIVE me more love or more disdain ; || the torrid or the frozen zone bring equal ease unto my pain, the temperate affords me none; either extreme of love or hate is sweeter than a calm estate. Give me a storm ; — if it be love, like Danae in that golden shower, I swim in pleasure ; if it prove disdain — that torrent will devour my vulture hopes, and he's possessed of heaven, that's but from hell released; then crown my joys or cure my pain ; give me more love or more disdain. T. CAREW _ into Latin Lyric Verse 87 217 THE WATERFALL M ARK how, a thousand streams in one, one in a thousand, on they fare, now flashing to the sun, now still as beast in lair. How round the rock, now mounting o'er, in lawless dance they win their way, still seeming more and more ^ to swell as we survey. They win their way, and find their rest together in their ocean home, from East and weary West, from North and South they come. They rush and roar, they whirl and leap, not wilder drives the wintry storm: yet a strong law they keep, strange powers their course inform. J. KEBLE 218 YOUNG LOVE COME, little infant, love me now, while thine unsuspecfled years clear thine aged father's brow from cold jealousy and fears. Pretty surely 'twere to see by young Love old Time beguiled, while our Sportings are as free as the nurse's with the child Now then love me: time may take thee before thy time away; of this need we'll virtue make, and learn love before we may. So we win of doubtful fate, and, if good to us she meant, we that good shall antedate, or, if ill, that ill prevent. A. MARVEI.L 88 Passages for Translation 219 THE MEANS TO ATTAIN HAPPY LIFE MARTIAL, the things that do attain the happy life, be these I find : the riches left, not got with pain; the fruitful ground, the quiet mind: the equal friend, no grudge, no strife; no charge of rule, nor governance; without disease, the healthful life; the household of continuance: the mean diet, no delicate fare; true wisdom joined with simpleness; the night discharged of all care; where wine the wit m.ay not oppress: the faithful wife, without debate; such sleeps as may beguile the night; contented with thine own estate, ne wish for death, ne fear his might. EARL OF SURREY 220 THE RETURN OF SPRING GLOOMY winter's now awa', soft the westlin' breezes blaw: 'mang the birks o' Stanley-shaw the mavis sings fu' cheerie O. towering o'er the Newton woods, laverocks fan the snaw-white clouds ; siller saughs, wi' downie buds, adorn the banks sae brierie O. Round the sylvan fairy nooks, feathery breckans fringe the rocks, 'neath the brae the burnie jouks, and ilka thing is cheerie O. Trees may bud, and birds may sing, flowers may bloom, and verdure spring, joy to me they canna bring, unless wi' thee, my dearie O. R. TANNAHILL into Latin Lyric Verse 89 221 PAST AND FUTURE BROOD not on things gone by, on friendships lost, and high designs o'erthrown, and old opinions swept away like leaves before the autumn blast. brood not on things gone by ! thy house is left unto thee desolate, thou canst not be again what once thou wert, away, my soul, away ! no longer weakly cower o'er the white ashes of extinguish'd hope, nor hover ghostlike round the sepulchre of thy departed joys: another star hath risen, another voice is calling thee aboard, thy bark is launch'd, the wind is in thy sail; away, my soul, away! \V. S. WALKER 222 ON HEARING A LADY SINGING NO nightingale did ever chant so sweetly to reposing bands of travellers in some shady haunt among Arabian sands: no sweeter voice was ever heard in Spring-time from a cuckoo bird, breaking the silence of the seas among the farthest Hebrides. Will no one tell me what she sings? perhaps the plaintive numbers flow for old, unhappy, far-off things, and battles long ago: or is it some more humble lay, familiar matter of to-day? some natural sorrow, loss, or pain that has been, and may be again? 223 ON TIME 'IME'S an hand's-breadth ; 'tis a tale; 'tis a vessel under sail; 'tis an eagle in its way, darting down upon its prey; T' 90 Passages for Translation 'tis an arrow in its flight, mocking the pursuing sight ; 'tis a short-lived fading flower; 'tis a rainbow on a shower; 'tis a momentary ray, smiling in a winter's day ; 'tis a torrent's rapid stream; 'tis a shadow ; 'tis a dream ; 'tis the closing watch of night, dying at the rising light ; 'tis a bubble ; 'tis a sigh ; be prepared, O man, to die. F. QUARLES M' 224 HERRICK Y dearest love, since thou wilt go, and leave me here behind thee ; for love or pity, let me know the place where I may find thee. AMARYLLIS In country meadows, pearled with dew, and set about with lilies: there, filling maunds with cowslips, you may find your Amaryllis. HERRICK What have the meads to do with thee, or with thy youthful hours ? live thou at court, where thou may'st be the queen of men, not flowers. Let country wenches make 'em fine with posies, since 'tis fitter for thee with richest gems to shine, and like the stars to glitter. R. HERRICK 125 THE PURSUIT OF THE IDEAL T is not Beauty I demand, a crystal brow, the moon's despair, nor the snow's daughter, a white hand, nor mermaid's yellow pride of hair: I give me, instead of Beauty's bust, a tender heart, a loyal mind which with temptation I would trust, yet never linked with error find, — into Latin Lyric Verse 91' one in whose gentle bosom I could pour my secret heart of woes, like the care-burthen 'd honey-fly that hides his murmurs in the rose, — my earthly comforter! whose love so indefeasible might be, that, when my spirit wonn'd above, hers' could not stay, for sympathy. A^ 226 CLAIM TO LOVE ^LAS! alas! thou turn'st in vain thy beauteous face away, which, like young sorcerers, rais'd a pain above its power to lay. Love moves not, as thou turn'st thy look, but here doth firmly rest; he long ago thy eyes forsook, to revel in my breast. Thy power on him why hop'st thou more than his on me should be? the claim thou lay'st to him is poor, to that he owns from me. his substance in my heart excels his shadow in thy sight ; fire, where it burns, more truly dwells, than where it scatters light. T. STANLEY 227 ELYSIUM BEYOND the Acherontian pool and gloomy realms of Pluto's rule the happy soul hath come: and hark, what music on the breeze? 'Twas like the tune of summer-bees a myriad-floating hum. From spirits like himself it flowed a welcome to his blest abode, that melody of sound: and lo, the sky all azure clear, and liquid-soft the atmosphere: it is Elysian ground. 92 Passages for Translation To mortals, who on earth fulfil the great Olympian Father's will, are given these happy glades ; where they, from all corruption free, in unrestri(fl;ed liberty may dwell, etherial shades. 228 There is no bound of time or place; each spirit moves in endless space advancing as he wills: the summer lightnings gleam not so, as life with ever-varying flow the tender bosom thrills. And memory is unmixed with pain, though consciousness they still retain of joys they left behind ; whate'er on earth they held most dear, to pure enjoyment hallowed here in golden dream they find. The pilgrim oft by whispering trees hath stretcht his wear)' limbs at ease, and laid his burden down ; the reaping man hath dropt his scythe, around him gather'd harvests blithe the field with plenty crown. 229 The warrior-chief in soft repose bethinks him of his vanquisht foes, and martial sounds begin to rattle in his slumbering ear, the rolling drum, the soldier's cheer, and dreadful battle-din. The lover, whom untimely fate hath sever'd from a worthy mate, expefls the destined hour, when she shall come, his bliss to share, in beauty clad, divinely fair, with love's immortal dower. Meanwhile in many a vision kind he sees her imaged to his mind; i7ito Latin Lyric Verse 93 and for her brow he weaves a mystic bridal coronal, such as no poet's tongue can tell nor human heart conceive. Translated fro7n SCHILLER 230 THE OAK 'OME take a woodland walk with me, Q 231 and mark the rugged old Oak Tree, how steadily his arm he flings where from the bank the fresh rill springs, and points the waters' silent way down the wild marge of reed and spray. Two furlongs on they glide unseen, known only by the livelier green. There stands he, in each time and tide, the new-born streamlet's guard and guide. To him spring shower and summer sun, brown autumn, winter's sleet, are one : but firmest in the bleakest hour he holds his root in faith and power, the splinter'd bark, his girdle stern, his robe, grey moss and mountain fern. J. KEBLE A HYMN TO THE LARES IT was, and still my care is, to worship ye, the Lares, with crowns of greenest parsley, and garlick chives not scarcely: for favours here to warm me, and not by fire to harm me : for gladding so my hearth here with inoffensive mirth here ; that while the wassaile bowle here with north-down ale doth trowl here, no syllable doth fall here, to mar the mirth at all here. For which, whene'er I am able, to keep a country-table, great be my fare or small cheer, rie eat and drink up all here. R. HERRICK 94 Passages for Translation 232 TO THE LADY MARGARET, COUNTESS OF CUMBERLAND H E that of such a height hath buih his mind, and rear'd the dwelhng of his thoughts so strong, as neither fear nor hope can shake the frame of his resolved powers ; nor all the wind of vanity or malice pierce to wrong his settled peace, or to disturb the same : what a fair seat hath he, from whence he may the boundless wastes and wilds of man survey! And with how free an eye doth he look down upon these lower regions of turmoil, where all the storms of passions mainly beat on flesh and blood : where honour, power, renown, are only gay afflicflions, golden toil ; where greatness stands upon as feeble feet, as frailty doth ; and only great doth seem to little minds, who do it so esteem. l'>i'}t He is not moved with all the thunder-cracks of tyrants' threats, or with the surly brow of power, that proudly sits on others' crimes ; charged .with more crying sins than those he checks. The storms of sad confusion, that may grow up in the present for the coming times, appal not him ; that hath no side at all, but of himself, and knows the worst can fall. " And whilst distraught Ambition compasses and is encompassed ; whilst as craft deceives, and is deceived : whilst man doth ransack man, and builds on blood, and rises by distress ; and th' inheritance of desolation leaves to great-expefting hopes : he looks thereon, as from the shore of peace, with unwet eye, and bears no venture in impiety. S. DANIEL 234 THE CRAVE THERE is a calm for those who weep; a rest for weary pilgrims found, they softly lie and sweetly sleep low in the ground. into Latin Lyric Verse 95 The storm that wrecks the winter sky- no more disturbs their deep repose, than summer-evening's latest sigh that shuts the rose. There is a cahn for those who weep ; a rest for weary pilgrims found ; and, while the mouldering ashes sleep low in the ground, the soul, of origin divine, God's glorious image, freed from clay, in heaven's eternal sphere shall shine, a Star of Day. J. MONTGOMERY 1"^^ PROOF AGAINST FORTUNE FORTUNE, that with malicious joy does man her slave oppress, proud of her office to destroy, is seldom pleased to bless : still various and inconstant still, but with an inclination to be ill, promotes, degrades, delights in strife, and makes a lottery of life. I can enjoy her while she's kind ; but when she dances in the wind, and shakes the wings and will not stay, I puff the prostitute away ; the little or the much she gave is quietly resigned : content with poverty my soul I arm, and virtue, though in rags, will keep me warm. 236 What is't to me, who never sail in her unfaithful sea, if storms arise, and clouds grow black ; if the mast split and threaten wreck \ Then let the greedy merchant fear for his ill-gotten gain ; and pray to gods that will not hear, while the debating winds and billows bear his wealth into the main. For me, secure from Fortune's blows, secure of what I cannot lose, 96 Passages for Tra^islation in my small pinnace I can sail, contemning all the blustering roar ; and running with a merry gale, •with friendly stars my safety seek within some little winding creek ; and see the storm, ashore J. DRYDEN T >37 ON RETURNING A BLANK BOOK 'AKE back the virgin page, white and unwritten still ; some hand, more calm and sage, the leaf must fill : thoughts come, as pure as light, pure as e'en you require : but oh ! each word I write love turns to fire. Yet let me keep the book ; oft shall my heart renew, when on its leaves I look, dear thoughts of you : like you 'tis fair and bright ; like you, too bright and fair, to let wild passion write one wrong wish there. 238 Haply when from those eyes far, far away I roam, should calmer thoughts arise towards you and home ; fancy may trace some line, worthy those eyes to meet ; thoughts that not burn, but shine, pure, calm and sweet. And, as o'er ocean far seamen their records keep, led by some hidden star through the cold deep ; so may the words I write tell through what storms I stray; you still the unseen light, guiding my way. T. MOORE into Latin Lyric Verse 97 239 THE PROGRESS OF POESY FROM GREECE TO ITALY AND FROM ITALY TO ENGLAND WOODS, that wave o'er Delphi's steep, isles, that crown th' ^gean deep, fields, that cool Ilissus laves, or where Masander's amber waves in lingering lab'rinths creep ; how do your tuneful echoes languish, mute, but to the voice of anguish ! Where each old poetic mountain inspiration breathed around ; every shade and hallow'd fountain murmur'd deep a solemn sound ; till the sad Nine, in Greece's evil hour, left their Parnassus for the Latian plains. Alike they scorn the pomp of tyrant Power, and coward Vice, that revels in her chains. When Latium had her lofty spirit lost, they sought, O Albion ! next thy sea-encircled coast. T. GRAY 240 TO A STAR OFAIR and goodly star, upon the brow of night, that from thy silver car shootest thy friendly light, thy path is calm and bright through the clear azure of the starry way; and from thy heavenly height thou see'st how empires rise and pass away, thou view'st the birth of human hopes — their blossom and decay. Oh ! that my spirit could cast off its mould of clay, and with the wise and good fly from this toil away ; that with thy bright array we might look down upon the world of woe, even as the god of day looks on the listless ocean's flow, and eyes the fighting waves that part and foam below. F, S. II. 7 •98 Passages for Translation 241 THE SOUL OF BEAUTY THE shape alone let others prize, the features of the fair ; I look for spirit in her eyes, and meaning in her air. A damask cheek, an ivory arm, shall ne'er my wishes win ; give me an animated form that speaks a mind within ; a face where awful honour shines, where sense and sweetness move, and angel innocence refines the tenderness of love. These are the soul of beauty's frame ; without whose vital aid unfinished all her features seem, and all her roses dead. M. AKENSIDE 242 HE A VEN IN PROSPECT THEY are all gone into the world of light! And I alone sit ling'ring here! Their very memory is fair and bright, and my sad thoughts doth clear. It glows and glitters in my cloudy breast, like stars upon some gloomy grove, or those faint beams in which this hiU is drest after the sun's remove. I see them walking in an air of glory, whose light doth trample on my days ; my days, which are at best but dull and hoar)', meer glimmering and decays. He that hath found some fledg'd bird's nest may know at first sight if the bird be flown ; but what fair dell or grove he sings in now, that is to him unknown. 243 And yet, as Angels in some brighter dreams call to the soul when man doth sleep, so some strange thoughts transcend our wonted themes, and into glory peep. into Latin Lyric Verse 99 If a star were confin'd into a tomb, her captive flames must needs burn there; but when the hand that lockt her up gives room, she'll shine through all the sphere. O Father of eternal life, and all created glories under thee, resume thy spirit from this world of thrall into true liberty! Either disperse these mists, which blot and fill my perspedive still as they pass; or else rembve me hence unto that hill where I shall need no glass. H. VAUGHAN 244 INSENSIBILITY TO GOD'S MERCIES HUES of the rich unfolding morn, that, ere the glorious sun be born, by some soft touch invisible around his path are taught to swell; — thou rustling breeze so fresh and gay, that dancest forth at opening day, and brushing by with joyous wing, wakenest each little leaf to sing ; — ye fragrant clouds of dewy steam, by which deep grove and tangled stream pay, for soft rains in season given, their tribute to the genial Heaven: — why waste your treasures of delight upon our thankless, joyless sight; who day by day to sin awake, seldom of Heaven and you partake 2 J. KEBLE 245 THE SEAMEN'S SONG O'ER the rolling waves we go, where the stormy winds do blow, to quell with fire and sword the foe, that dares give us vexation. loo Passages for Translation Sailing to each foreign shore, despising hardships we endure, wealth we often do bring o'er that does enrich the nation. Noble-hearted seamen are those that do no labour spare, nor no danger shun or fear, to do their country' pleasure. In loyalty they do abound, nothing base in them is found, but they bravely stand their ground in calm and stormy weather. 246 THE LIVING AUTHOR'S EPITAPH FROM life's superfluous cares enlarg'd, his debt of human toil discharg'd, here Cowley lies, beneath this shed, to every worldly interest dead : with decent poverty content; his hours of ease not idly spent ; to fortune's goods a foe profess 'd, and hating wealth, by all caress 'd. 'Tis sure, he's dead; for lo! how small a spot of earth is now his all ! O ! wish that earth may lightly lay, and every care be far away! bring flowers, the short-liv'd roses bring, to life deceas'd fit offering! and sweets around the poet strew, whilst yet with life his ashes glow. J. ADDISON 247 HYMN OF PAN LIQUID Peneus was flowing, ' and all dark Tempe lay in Pclion's shadow, outgrowing the light of the dying day, speeded with my sweet pipings. into Latin Lyric Verse loi I sang of the dancing stars, I sang of the dsedal Earth, and of Heaven — and the giant wars, and Love, and Death, and Birth, — and then I changed my pipings, — singing how down the vale of Menalus I pursued a maiden and clasped a reed: gods and men, we are all deluded thus ! it breaks in our bosom and then we bleed: all wept, as I think both ye now would, if envy or age had not frozen your blood, at the sorrow of my sweet pipings. P. B. SHELLEY E 248 y UNO'S OFFER TO PARIS ET ambition fire thy mind, thou wert born o'er men to reign; not to follow flocks design 'd, scorn thy crook and leave the plain. Crowns I'll throw beneath thy feet; thou on necks of kings shalt tread; joys in circles joys shall meet, which way e'er thy fancy's led. Let not toils of empire fright, toils of empire pleasures are ; thou shalt only know delight, all the joy but not the care. Shepherd, if thou 'It yield the prize, for the blessings I bestow, joyful I'll ascend the skies, happy thou shalt reign below. W. COXGREVE B' 249 THE WINTER OF LIFE ' UT lately seen in gladsome green the woods rejoice the day, through gentle showers the laughing flowers in double pride were gay: but now our joys are fled, on winter blasts awa' ! yet maiden May, in rich array, again shall bring them a'. I02 Passages for Translation But my white pow, nae kindly thowe shall melt the snaws of age ; my trunk of eild, but buss or bield, sinks in time's wintry rage. Oh, age has weary days and nights o' sleepless pain ! Thou golden time o' youthful prime, why com'st thou not again ! R. BURNS H 250 HUSH, SWEET LUTE USH, sweet Lute, thy songs remind me of past joys, now turn'd to pain ; of ties that long have ceas'd to bind me, but whose burning marks remain. In each tone, some echo falleth on my ears of joys gone by: every note some dream recalleth of bright hopes but born to die. Yet, sweet Lute, though pain it bring me, once more let thy numbers thrill ; though death were in the strain they sing me, I must woo its anguish still. Since no time can e'er recover love's sweet light when once 'tis set, — better to weep such pleasures over, than smile o'er any left us yet. T, MOORE K K 251 INDIFFERENCE TO FAME H ! who can tell how hard it is to climb the steep where Fame's proud temple shines afar ; ah! who can tell how many a soul sublime has felt the influence of malignant star, and wag'd with fortune an eternal war; checked by the scoff of Pride, by Envy's frown, and Poverty's unconquerable bar, in life's low vale remote has pined alone, then dropt into the grave, unpitied and unknown ! And yet the languor of inglorious days not equally oppressive is to all: him, who ne'er listen'd to the voice of praise, the silence of negle(ft can ne'er appal. into Latin Lyric Verse 103 There are, who, deaf to mad Ambition's call, would shrink to hear th' obstreperous trump of Fame ; supremely blest, if to their portion fall health, competence and peace. J. BEATTIE '. I love Love— though he has wings, and like light can flee, but above all other things. Spirit, I love thee — thou art love and life ! O come ! make once more my heart thy home! P. B. SHELLEY I into Latin Lyric Verse 107 260 ECHOES HOW sweet the answer Echo makes to Music at night when, roused by lute or horn, she wakes, and far away o'er lawns and lakes goes answering light ! yet Love hath echoes truer far and far more sweet than e'er, beneath the moonlight's star, of horn or lute or soft guitar the songs repeat, 'Tis when the sigh, — in youth sincere and only then, the sigh that's breathed for one to hear — is by that one, that only Dear, breathed back again. T. MOORE 261 THE WINTER'S EVENING THE sun is sinking in the fiery west ; the clouds are rushing on their wild, wet wings ; the lightning, like an eagle from its nest, in dazzling circles round the mountain springs ; the groaning forest in the whirlwind swings, strewing the marble cliffs with branches hoar ; with cries of startled wolves the valley rings : and when the sullen sounds of earth are o'er, ocean lifts up his voice, and thunders on the shore. Now close the portal ! — 'Tis the hour of hours ! though ancient Winter lords it o'er the sky, and the snow thickens on our leafless bowers ; for now the few we love on earth are nigh. lanthe ! shall the livelong eve pass by without one song from that red lip of thine ? come, fill the bowls, and heap the faggots high ! Id birds and flowers let Summer's morning shine, to nobler man alone the Winter eve's divine. G. CROLY io8 Passages for Translation 262 TO LUCASTA, ON GOING BEYOND THE SEAS I to be absent were to be away from thee ; or that when I am gone you or I were alone ; then, my Lucasta, might I crave pity from blustering wind, or swallowing wave. Though seas and land betwixt us both, our faith and troth, like separated souls, all time and space controls : above the highest sphere we meet unseen, unknown, and greet as Angels greet. So then we do anticipate our after-fate, and are alive i' the skies, if thus ©ur lips and eyes can speak like spirits unconfined in Heaven, their earthy bodies left behind. R. LOVELACE 263 MODERN GREECE WHEN riscth Lacedaemon's hardihood, when Thebes Epaminondas rears again, when Athens' children are with hearts endued^ when Grecian mothers shall give birth to men, then may'st thou be restored ; but not till then. A thousand years scarce serve to form a state ; an hour may lay it in the dust, and when can man its shatter'd splendour renovate, recall its virtues back, and vanquish Time and Fate ? Yet are thy skies as blue, thy crags as wild ; sweet are thy groves, and verdant are thy fields, thine olive ripe as when Minerva smiled, and still his honied wealth Hymettus yields ; there the blithe bee his fragrant fortress builds, the freeborn wanderer of thy mountain-air ; Apollo still thy long, long summer gilds, still in his beam Mendeli's marbles glare ; Art, Glory, Freedom fail, but Nature still is fair. LORD BYRON B' info Latin Lyric Verse 109 264 THE DEATH OF ASTROPHEL Ul that immortall spirit, which was deckt with all the dowries of celestiall grace, by soveraine choyce from th' hevenly quires selefl, and lineally derived from Angels race, O ! what is now of it become aread ? Ay me ! can so divine a thing be dead ? Ah ! no : it is not dead, ne can it die, but lives for aie in blissful! Paradise, where like a new-borne babe it soft doth lie, in bed of lillies wrapt in tender wise ; and compast all about with roses sweet, and daintie violets from head to feet. There thousand birds, all of celestiall brood, to him do sweetly caroll day and night ; and with straunge notes, of him well understood, lull him asleep in Angelick delight ; whilest in sweet dreame to him presented bee immortall beauties, which no eye may see. E. SPENSER I 16^ HOPE PRAISED the Earth, in beauty seen with garlands gay of various green ; I praised the sea, whose ample field shone glorious as a silver shield ; and earth and ocean seem'd to say, " Our beauties are but for a day." I praised the sun, whose chariot roU'd on wheels of amber and of gold ; I praised the moon, whose softer eye gleam'd sweetly through the summer sky ; and moon and sun in answer said, " Our days of light are numbered." O God ! O good beyond compare ! if thus Thy meaner works are fair, if thus Thy bounties gild the span of ruin'd earth and sinful man, how glorious must the mansion be, where Thy redeem'd shall dwell with Thee ! R. HEBER no Passages for Translation 266 TO My LORD OF LEICESTER NOT that thy trees at Penshurst groan oppressed with their timely load ; and seem to make their silent moan, that their great Lord is now abroad: they, to delight his taste or eye, would spend themselves in fruit, and die. Not that thy harmless deer repine, and think themselves unjustly slain by any other hand than thine, whose arrows they would gladly stain: no, nor thy friends, which hold too dear that peace with France, which keeps thee there. All these are less than that great cause which now exacfls your presence here; wherein there meet the divers laws of public and domestic care : for one bright Nymph our youth contends, and on your prudent choice depends. E. WALLER 267 HYMN TO DIANA QUEEN and Huntress, chaste and fair, now the sun is laid to sleep, seated in thy silver chair, state in wonted manner keep ; Hesperus entreats thy light, goddess excellently bright. Earth, let not thy envious shade dare itself to interpose; Cynthia's shining orb was made heaven to clear when day did close: bless us then with wished sight, goddess excellently bright Lay thy bow of pearl apart and thy crystal-shining cjuiver: give unto the flying hart space to breathe, how short soever: thou that makest a day of night, goddess excellently bright! B. JONSON into Latin Lyric Verse in 268 THALABA OR when the winter torrent rolls down the deep-channel'd rain course, foamingly, dark with its mountain spoils, with bare feet pressing the wet sand, there wanders Thalaba, the rushing flow, the flowing roar, filling his yielded faculties, a vague, a dizzy, a tumultuous joy. Or lingers it a vernal brook, gleaming o'er yellow sands? beneath the lofty bank reclined, with idle eye he views its little waves quietly listening to the quiet flow ; while in the breathings of the stirring gale the tall canes bend above, floating like streamers on the wind their lank uplifted leaves. R. SOUTHEY 269 ION A HERE, as to shame the temples decked by skill of earthly architedi, Nature herself, it seemed, would raise a minster to her Maker's praise; not for a meaner use ascend her columns, or her arches bend ; nor of a theme less solemn tells that mighty surge that ebbs and swells, and still between each awful pause, from the high vault an answer draws, in varied tone prolonged and high, that mocks the organ's melody. Nor doth its entrance front in vain to old lona's holy fane, that Nature's voice might seem to say, ' Well hast thou done, frail child of clay ! thy humble powers that stately shrine tasked high and hard — but witness mine.' SIR W. SCOTT 112 Passages for Translation 270 TO BLOSSOMS FAIR pledges of a fruitful tree, why do ye fall so fast? Your date is not so past, but you may stay yet here awhile to blush and gently smile, and go at last. What, were ye born to be an hour or half's delight, an.d so to bid good night? 'Twas pity Nature brought ye forth, merely to show your worth, and lose you quite. But you are lovely leaves, where we may read how soon things have their end, though ne'er so brave; and after they have shown their pride, like you, awhile, they glide into the grave. R. HERRICK S' 271 SONG FOR THE SPINNING-WHEEL WIFTLY turn the murmuring wheel! night has brought the welcome hour, when the weary fingers feel help, as if from faery power; dewy night o'ershades the ground; turn the swift wheel round and round! Now beneath the starry sky couch the widely-scattered sheep; — ply the pleasant labour, ply! for the spindle, while they sleep, runs with motion smooth and fine, gathering up a trustier line. Short-lived likings may be bred by a glance from fickle eyes ; but true love is like the thread which the kindly wool supplies, when the flocks are all at rest sleeping on the mountain's breast W. WORDSWORTH B' mio Latin Lyt'ic Verse iij 273 .MORNING SOUNDS UT A'ho the melodies of morn can tell? the wild brook babbling down the mountain-side the lowing herd ; the sheepfold's simple bell ; the pipe of early shepherd dim descried in the low valley; echoing far and wide the clamorous horn along the cliffs above; the hollow TiUrmur of the ocean-tide ; the hum of bees, the linnet's lay of love, and the full choir that wakes the universal grove. The cottage-curs at early pilgrim bark ; crown'd with her pail the tripping milk-maid sings ; the whistling ploughman stalks afield ; and hark ! down the rough slope the ponderous waggon rings ; through rustling corn the hare astonished springs ; slow tolls the village-clock the drowsy hour; the partridge bursts away on whirring wings; deep mourns the turtle in sequester'd bower, and shrill lark carols clear from her aerial tower. J, BEATTIE 273 ORPHEUS UT when through all the infernal bounds, which flaming Phlegethon surrounds, Ix)ve, strong as Death, the Poet led to the pale nations of the dead, what sounds were heard, what scenes appeared, o'er all the dreary coasts ! dreadful gleams, dismal screams, fires that glow, shrieks of woe, sullen moans, hollow groans, and cries of tortured ghosts ! But hark ! he strikes the golden lyre ; and see ! the tortured ghosts respire, see, shady forms advance ! thy stone, O Sisyphus, stands still,- Ixion rests upon his wheel, and the pale spedlres dance ; the Furies sink upon their iron beds, and snakes uncurled hang listening round their heads. A. POPE r. s. 11. 3 B' 114 Passages for Translation 274 THE HOPELESS LOVER TELL me not how fair she is; I have no mind to hear the stoiy of that distant bhss I never shall come near : by sad experience I have found that her perfedlion is my wound. And tell me not how fond I am to tempt my daring fate from whence no triumph ever came, but to repent too late : there is some hope ere long I may in silence dote myself away. I ask no pity, Love, from thee, nor will thy justice blame, so that thou wilt not envy me the glory of my flame : which crowns my heart whene'er it dies, in that it falls her sacrifice. H. KING ■/J THE RESTORATION OF HELLAS AS an eagle, fed with morning, - scorns the embattled tempest's warning, when she seeks her aerie hanging in the mountain-cedar's hair, and her brood expecTt the clanging of her wings through the wild air, sick with famine ; — Freedom so to what of Greece remaineth now returns ; her hoary ruins glow like orient mountains lost in day ; beneath the safety of her wings her renovated nurselings play, and in the naked lightnings of truth they purge their dazzled eyes. Let Freedom leave, where'er she flies, a Desert, or a Paradise ; let the beautiful and the brave, share her glor}', or a grave. P. B. SHELLEV into Latin Lyric Verse 115 276 THE TREASURES OF THE DEEP WHAT hidest thou in thy treasure-caves and cells, thou hollow-sounding and mysterious main ? pale glistening pearls, and rainbow-coloured shells, bright things which gleain unrecked of and in vain. Keep, keep thy riches, melancholy sea ! We ask not such from thee. Yet more ! the billows and the depths have more ! high hearts and brave are gathered to thy breast ! they hear not now the booming waters roar, the battle-thunders will not break their rest : keep thy red gold and gems, thou stormy grave — give back the true and brave ! Give back the lost and lovely ! those for whom the place was kept at board and hearth so long ; the prayer went up through midnight's breathless gloom, and the vain yearning woke midst festal song ! Hold fast thy buried isles, thy towers o'erthrown, — But all is not thine own ! F. HEMANS 277 OUR SORROW ES STILL PURSUE— TO MY HONOURED FRIEND, SIR E. P. KNIGHT GOE find some whispering shade nearc Arne or Poc, and gently 'mong their violets throw your weary'd limbs, and see if all those faire enchantments can charme griefe or care. Our sorrowes still pursue us, and when you the ruined capitoU shall view and statues, a disordered heape ; you can not cure yet the disease of man, and banish youre owne thoughts. Goe travaile where another Sun and starres appeare, and land not toucht by any covetous fleet, and yet even there youre selfe youle meete. 8—2 ] 1 6 Passages for Translation Stay here then, and while curious exiles find new toyes for a fantastique mind ; enjoy at home what's reall : here the Spring by her aeriall quires doth sing as sweetly to you as if you were laid vnder the learned Thessalian shade. W. HABINGTON 278 HYMM TO CONTENTMENT "TOVELY, lasting peace of mind ! J — rf sweet delight of human kind ! heavenly-born and bred on high, to crown the favourites of the sky with more of happiness below than vi(5lors in a triumph know ; lovely, lasting peace appear ! this world itself, if thou art here, is once again with Eden blest, and man contains it in his breast." 'Twas thus, as under shade I stood, I sung my wishes to the wood : it seemed as all the quiet place confessed the presence of the Grace ; when thus she spoke :— " Go rule thy will : bid thy wild passions all be still ; know God, and bring thy heart to know the joys which from religion flow : then every grace shall prove its guest, and I'll be there to crown the rest" T. PARNELL 279 PHIL LIS PHILLIS is my only joy, faithless as the winds or seas: sometimes coming, sometimes coy, yet she never fails to please; if with a frown I am cast down, Phillis smiling and beguiling makes me happier than before. into Lati7i Lyj-ic Verse 117 Though, alas! too late I find, nothing can her fancy fix ; yet the moment she is kind, I forgiv^e her all her tricks; which though I see, I can't get free; she deceiving, I belicv'ing; what need lovers wish for more? A^ SIR C. SEDLEV 280 FAITHFUL LOVE ^SK me no more, my truth to prove, what I would suffer for my love: with thee I would in exile go to regions of eternal snow; o'er floods by solid ice confined : thro' forest bare with northern wind; while all around my eyes I cast where all is wild and all is waste. If there the timorous stag you chase, or rouse to fight a fiercer race, undaunted I thy arms would bear and give thy hand the hunter's spear : beneath the mountain's hollow brow, or in its I'ocky cells below, thy rural feast I would provide ; nor envy palaces their pride; the softest moss should dress thy bed, with savage spoils about thee spread : while faithful love the watch should keep, to banish danger from thy sleep. E. TOLLET 281 THE DESCRIPTION OF CAS TAR A IKE the violet which alone prospers in some happy shade ; my Castara lives unknown, to no looser eye betrayed ; for she's to herself untrue who delights i' the public view. Such is her beauty, as no arts have enriched with borrowed grace ; her high birth no pride imparts, for she blushes in her place. E' 1 1 8" Passages for Translation Folly boasts a glorious blood, she is noblest being good. She sails by that rock, the court, where oft honour splits her mast ; and retiredness thinks the port I where her fame may anchor cast ; virtue safely cannot sit where vice is enthroned for wit. W. HABINGTON 283 THE EDUCATION OF NATURE SHE shall be sportive as the fawn that wild with glee across the lawn or up the mountain springs ; and her's shall be the breathing balm, and her's the silence and the calm of mute insensate things. The floating clouds their state shall lend J to her; for her the willow bend: nor shall she fail to see e'en in the motions of the storm grace that shall mould the maiden's form by silent sympathy. The stars of midnight shall be dear to her ; and she shall lean her ear in many a secret place where rivulets dance their wayward round, and beauty born of murmuring sound shall pass into her face. W. WORDSWORTH 283 NE NIMIVM ADOLESCENT!^ FID AT LET not thy youth and false delights ^ cheat thee of life ; those heady flights but waste thy time, which posts away like wings unseen and swift as they. Beauty is but meer paint, whose dye with time's breath will dissolve and flye, 'tis wax, 'tis water, 'tis a glass, it melts, breaks and away doth pass. \ into Latin Lyric Verse 119 'tis like 3 rose, which in the dawn the air with gentle breath doth fawn and whisper too, but in the hours of night is sullied with smart showers. Life spent is wish'd for but in vain, nor can past years come back again : happy the Man who in this vale redeems his time, s?iutting out all thoughts of the world, whose longing eyes are ever pilgrims in the skies, that views his bright home, and desires to shine amongst those glorious fires. H. VAUGHAN 284 AD VERS A MQVO ANIMO FERENDA ESSE IF weeping eyes could wash away those evils they mourn for night and day, then glad I to cure my fears with my best jewels would buy tears. But, as dew feeds the growing corn, so crosses that are grown forlorn increase with grief, tears make tears way, and cares kept up keep cares in pay. That wretch whom Fortune finds to fear and melting still into a tear, she strikes more boldly ; but a face silent and dry doth her amaze. Then leave thy tears, and tedious tale of what thou dost misfortunes call : what thou by weeping think'st to ease, doth by thy passion but increase, hard things to soft will never yield, 'tis the dry eye that wins the field; a noble patience quells the spite of Fortune, and disarms her quite. H. VAUGHAN 28 ft THE WARRIOR TO HIS DEAD BRIDE I F in the fight my arm was strong and forced my foes to yield, I20 Passages for Translatioii if conquering and vinhurt I came back from the battle-field — it is because thy prayers have been my safeguard and my shield. Thy heart, my own, still beats in Heaven with the same love divine that made thee stoop to such a soul, so hard, so stern, as mine — my eyes have learnt to weep, beloved, since last they looked on thine. I hear thee murmur words of peace through the dim midnight air, and a calm falls from the angel stars, J and soothes my great despair — " the Heavens themselves look brighter, love, since thy sweet soul is there. A, A. PROCTER 286 TO THE JEWS TO MOURN FOR THEIR DESTRUCTION c ONSIDER ye and call for the mourning women that they may come ; and send for cunning women, that they may come : J and let them make haste, ~ and take up a wailing for us, that our eyes may run down with tears, and our eyelids gush out with waters. For a voice of wailing is heard out of Zion, ' How arc we spoiled, we are greatly confounded, because we have forsaken the land, because our dwellings have cast us out !' Yet hear the word of the Lord, O ye women, and let your ear receive the word of his mouth, and teach your daughters wailing, and every one her neighbour lamentation. For death is come up into our windows, to cut off the children from without and the young men from the streets : the carcases of men shall fall as dung upon the open field, and as the handful after the harvestman, and none shall gather them. JEREMIAH F. HEMANS into Latin Lyric Verse ^21 287 DIRGE AT SEA SLEEP ! — we give thee to the wave, red with Hfe-blood from the brave: thou shalt find a noble grave: fare thee well ! Sleep! thy billowy field is won, proudly may the funeral gun, midst the hush at set of sun, boom thy knell! Lonely, lonely is thy bed, never there may flower be shed, marble reared, or brother's head bowed to weep. Yet thy record on the sea, borne through battle high and free, long the red-cross flag shall be; sleep ! oh, sleep ! 288 BRIGHTLY HAST THOU FLED BRIGHTLY, brightly hast thou fled, ere one grief had bowed thy head ! brightly didst thou part ! with thy young thoughts pure from spot, with thy fond love wasted not, with thy bounding heart. Ne'er by sorrow to be wet, calmly smiles thy pale cheek yet, ere with dust o'erspread: lilies ne'er by tempest blown, white rose which no stain hath known, be about thee shed! So we give thee to the earth, and the primrose shall have birth o'er thy gentle head ; thou that, like a dewdrop borne on a sudden breeze of morn, brightly thus hast fled ! F. HEMANS 122. Passages for Translation 289 DIRGE OF A CHILD O bitter tears for thee be shed, N blossom of being ! seen and gone ! with flowers alone we strew thy bed, O blest departed One ! whose all of life, a rosy ray, blushed into dawn and passed away. We rear no marble o'er thy tomb ; no sculptured image there shall mourn: ah ! litter far the vernal bloom such dwelling to adorn. Fragrance and flowers and dews must be the only emblems meet for thee. Thy grave shall be a blessed shrine, adorned with Nature's brightest wreath; each glowing season shall combine its incense there to breathe; and oft, upon the midnight air, shall viewless harps be murmuring there. F. HEMANS o 290 TO WOMAN' THOU by heaven ordained to be arbitress of man's destiny ! from thy sweet lip one tender sigh, one glance from thine approving eye, can raise or bend him at thy will, to virtue's noblest flights or worst extremes of ill I '&* Be angel-minded ! and despise thy sex's little vanities ; and let not passion's lawless tide thy better purpose sweep aside ; for woe awaits the evil hour that tends to man's annoy thy heaven-entrusted power. Woman ! 'tis thine to cleanse his heart from every gross, unholy part ; thine, in domestic solitude, to win him to be wise and good ; his pattern guide and friend to be, to give him back the heaven he forfeited for thee. I into Latin Lyric Verse 123 291 MEMORIALS OF DEATH THE leaves around me falling are preaching of decay; the hollow winds are calling, "come, pilgrim, come away!" the day, in night declining, says, I too must decline ; the year its life resigning, its lot foreshadows mine. The light my path surrounding, the loves to which I cling, the hopes within me bounding, the joys that round me wing; all melt, like stars of even, before the morning's ray, pass upward into Heaven, and chide at my delay. H. F. LYTE 292 SONG IF wine and music have the power to ease the sickness of the soul ; let Phoebus every string explore, and Bacchus fill the sprightly bowl : let them their friendly aid employ to make my Cloe's absence light ; and seek for pleasure, to destroy the sorrow of this lifelong night. But she to-morrow will return, Venus, be thou to-morrow great ; thy myrtles strew, thy odours burn ; and meet thy favourite nymph in state. Kind goddess, to no other powers let us to-morrow's blessings own : thy darling loves shall guide the hours, and all the day be thine alone. 124 Passages for Tra7islation 293 CHRISTMAS DAY THOUGH rude winds usher thee, swqet day, though clouds thy face deform, though nature's grace is swept away before thy sleety storm ; ev'n in thy sombrest Wintry vest, of blessed days thou art most blest. Nor frigid air nor gloomy morn shall check our jubilee ; bright is the day when Christ was born, no sun need shine but He ; let roughest storms their coldest blow, with love of Him our hearts shall glow. Oft, as this joyous morn doth come to speak our Saviour's love, oh, may it bear our spirits home, where He now reigns above; that day which brought Him from the skies, and man restores to Paradise ! S. RICKARDS , 294 TO THE EVENING STAR " STAR that bringest home the bee, and sett'st the weary labourer free! if any star shed peace, 'tis Thou that send'st it from above, appearing when Heaven's breath and brow are sweet as hers we love. Come to the luxuriant skies, whilst the landscape's odours rise, whilst far-off lowing herds are heard and songs when toil is done, from cottages whose smoke unstirr'd curls yellow in the sun. Star of love's soft interviews, parted lovers on thee muse; their remembrancer in Heaven of thrilling vows thou art, too delicious to be riven by absence from the heart. T. CAMPBELL into Latin Lyric Verse 125 295 TO MEMORY HAIL, Memor}', hail! in thy exhaustless mine from age to age unnumber'd treasures shine ! thought and her shadowy brood thy call obey, and Place and Time are subjecl; to thy sway! Thy pleasures most we feel, when most alone ; the only pleasures we can call our own. Lighter than air, Hope's summer-visions die, if but a fleeting cloud obscure the sky ; if but a beam of sober Reason play, lo. Fancy's fairy frost-work melts away! but can the wiles of Art, the grasp of Power, snatch the rich relics of a well-spent hour? these, when the trembling spirit wings her flight, pour round her path a stream of living light ; and gild those pure and perfect realms of rest, where Virtue triumphs, and her sons are blest ! S. ROGERS 29<5 LOVE OF LUCRE WHAT man in his wits had not rather be poor, than for lucre his freedom to give ; ever busy the means of his life to secure, and so ever neglecting to live! Environ'd from morning to night in a crowd, not a moment unbent, or alone; constrain'd to be abjedl, though never so proud, and at every one's call but his own! Still repining and longing for quiet each hour, yet studiously flying it still ; with the means of enjoying his wish in his power, but accurst with his wanting the will ! For a year must be past or a day must be come, before he has leisure to rest: "he must add to his store this or that pretty sum, and then will have time to be blest. But his gains, more bewitching the more they increase only swell the desire of his eye : such a wretch let mine enemy live, if he please but not even my enemy die. 126 Passages for TraiZJldihn 297 WINTER SWEET are the harmonies of Spring; sweet is the Summer's evening gale, and sweet the autumnal winds that shake the many-colour" d grove. And pleasant to the sober'd soul the silence of the wintry scene, when nature shrouds herself, entranced in deep tranquillity. Not undelightful now to roam the wild heath sparkling on the sight; not undelightful now to pace the forest's ample rounds ; and see the spangled branches shine, and mark the moss of many a hue that varies the old tree's brown bark, or o'er the grey stone spreads ; and mark the clustered berries bright amid the holly's gay green leaves; the ivy round the leafless oak that clasps its foliage close. R. SOUTHEY 298 THE NEW-BORN RILL « G O up and watch the new-born rill just trickling from its mossy bed, streaking the heath-clad hill with a bright emerald thread. Canst thou her bold career foretcl, what rocks she shall o'erleap or rend, how far in Ocean's swell her freshening billows send? Perchance that little brook shall flow the bulwark of some mighty realm, bear navies to and fro with monarchs at their helm. Or canst thou guess, how far away some sister nymph, beside her urn reclining night and day, 'mid reeds- and. mountain fern, into Latin Lyric Verse 127 nurses her store, with thine to blend when many a moor and glen are past, then in the Avide sea end their spotless lives at last? J. KEBLE 299 TO MEMORY OH ! sacred Memory, tablet of the heart, thou breathing shadow of departed days, still ever prompt to wake the slumb'ring smart, and backward lure the visionary gaze; thou tellest but of scenes that melted by are vanished now, like wreaths of winter snow ; the tear of sorrow gems thy lucid eye, and yet, so beauteous is thy garb of woe, we love thee still and clasp thy fond regret, too tender to renounce, too pleasing to forget ! why should Mem'ry weep, that frowning truth so early chased the mockeries of delight, the idle dreams that flushed the cheek of youth, and glittered baneful on the dazzled sight? She hath not murdered Hope, though distant far, and trembling at her voice, with drooping plume, gay Fancy flies ; nor cjuenched that better star, whose radiant orb can cheer the wintry gloom, where sacred Virtue rears her hallowed nest, there Peace shall linger still, companion of the breast. S' 300 THE ISER— DRINKING SONG OF MUNICH WEET Iser ! were thy sunny realm, and flowery gardens mine, thy waters I would shade with elm to prop the tender vine ; my golden flagons I would fill with rosy draughts from every hill ; and, under every inyrtle bower, my gay companions should prolong the laugh, the revel and the song, to many an idle hour. Like rivers crimsoned with the beam of yonder planets bright, our balmy cups should ever stream profusion of delight ; 128 Passages for Translation no care should touch the mellow heart, and sad or sober none depart ; for wine can triumph over woe ; and Love and Bacchus, brother powers, could build in Iser's sunny bowers a paradise below. T. CAMPBELL 30T THE LONGEST DAY LET US quit the leafy harbour, ^ and the torrent murmuring by ; for the sun is in his harbour, weary of the open sky. Summer ebbs ; — each day that follows is a reflux from on high, tending to the darksome hollows where the frosts of winter lie. He who governs the creation, in his providence, assigned such a gradual declination to the life of human kind. Yet we mark it not ; — fruits redden, fresh flowers blow, as flowers have blown, and the heart is loth to deaden hopes that she so long hath known. 15 e thou wiser, youthful Maiden ! and when thy decline shall come, let not flowers, or boughs fruit-laden, hide the knowledge of thy doom. W. WORDSWORTH 302 TO FANCY O Queen of numbers, once again animate some chosen swain, who, filled with unexhausted fire, may boldly smite the sounding lyre ; who with some new unequalled song may rise above the rhyming throng ; o'er all our listening passions reign, o'erwhelm our souls with joy and pain, with terror shake, and pity move, rouse with revenge, or melt with love ; into Latin Lyric Verse 129 O deign to attend his evening walk, with him in groves and grottoes talk ; teach him to scorn with frigid art feebly to touch the unraptured heart ; like lightning, let his mighty verse the bosom's inmost foldings pierce ; with native beauties win applause beyond cold critics' studied laws ; O let each Muse's fame increase, O bid Britannia rival Greece! J. WARTON 303 THE INCARNATION FOR Thou wert born of woman ! Thou didst come, O Holiest ! to this world of sin and gloom, not in Thy dread omnipotent array; and not by thunders strewed was Thy tempestuous road ; nor indignation burnt before Thee on Thy way. But Thee, a soft and naked child, thy mother uudefiled, in the rude manger laid to rest from off her virgin breast. 'a' The heavens were not commanded to prepare a gorgeous canopy of golden air ; nor stooped their lamps th' enthroned fires on high : a single silent star came wandering from afar, gliding unchecked and calm along the liquid sky ; the Eastern Sages leading on as at a kingly throne to lay their gold and odours sweet before Thy infant feet. 304 The Earth and Ocean were not hushed to hear bright harmony from every starry sphere ; nor at Thy presence brake the voice of song from all the cherub choirs, and seraphs' burning lyres, pour'd thro' the host of heaven the charmed clouds along. F. S. II. 9 J30 Passages for Translation One angel troop the strain began, of all the race of man by single shepherds heard alone that soft Hosanna's tone. And when Thou didst depart, no car of flame to bear Thee hence in lambent radiance came ; nor visible Angels mourned with drooping plumes : nor didst Thou mount on high from fatal Calvary with all Thine own redeemed outbursting from their tombs : for Thou didst bear away from earth but one of human birth, the dying felon by Thy side, to be in Paradise with Thee. H. H. MILMAN 305 IN MEMORIAM THE time admits not flowers or leaves to deck the banquet. Fiercely flies the blast of North and East, and ice makes daggers at the sharpen'd eaves, and bristles all the brakes and thorns to yon hard crescent, as she hangs above the wood which grides and clangs its leafless ribs and iron horns together, in the drifts that pass to darken on the rolling brine that breaks the coast. But fetch the wine, arrange the board and brim the glass ; bring in great logs and let them lie, to make a solid core of heat ; be cheerful-minded, talk and treat of all things, ev'n as he were by ; we keep the day. With festal cheer, with books and music surely we will drink to him whate'er he be, and sing the songs he loved to hear. A. TENNYSON into Latin Lyric Verse 131 30^ IN ME MORI A M RISEST thou thus, dim dawn, again, so loud with voices of the birds, ' so thick with lowings of the herds, day, when I lost the flower of men ; who tremblest thro' thy darkling red on yon swoll'n brook that bubbles fast by meadows breathing of the past, and woodlands holy to the dead ; who murmurest in the foliaged eaves a song that slights the coming care, and Autumn laying here and there a fiery finger on the leaves; who wakenest with thy balmy breath to myriads on the genial earth memories of bridal, or of birth, and unto myriads more, of death. O, wheresoever those may be, betwixt the slumber of the poles, to-day they count as kindred souls ; they know me not, but mourn with me. A. TENNYSON S*^"] IN MEMORIAM FAIR ship, that from the Italian shore sailest the placid ocean-plains with my lost Arthur's loved remains, spread thy full wings, and waft him o'er. So draw him home to those that mourn in vain ; a favourable speed ruffle thy mirror'd mast, and lead thro' prosperous floods his holy urn. All night no ruder air perplex thy sliding keel, till Phosphor, bright as our pure love, thro' early light shall glimmer on the dewy decks. Sphere all your lights around, above; sleep, gentle heavens, before the prow; sleep, gentle winds, as he sleeps now, my friend, the brother of my love; 9-2 133 passages for Translation my Arthur, whom I shall not see till all my widowed race be run: dear as the mother to the son, more than my brothers are to me. A. TENNYSON 308 THE CHARACTER OF A HAPPY LIFE HOW happy is he born and taught, that serveth not another's will ; whose armour is his honest thought and simple truth his utmost skill! Whose passions not his masters are, whose soul is still prepared for death, not tied vmto the world with care of public fame or private breath ; Who envies none that chance doth raise or vice ; who never understood how deepest wounds are given by praise ; nor rules of state, but rules of good : Who hath his life from rumours freed; whose conscience is his strong retreat ; whose state can neither flatterers feed, nor ruin make oppressors great ; — This man is freed from servile bands of hope to rise, or fear to fall ; lord of himself, though not of lands; and having nothmg, yet hath all. SIR H. WOTTON 309 PEACE MY soul, there is a country afar beyond the stars, where stands a winged sentry all skilful in the wars: There above noise and danger sweet peace sits crown'd with smiles, and one born in a manger commands the beauteous files. He is thy gracious friend, and (O my Soul awake!) did in pure love descend, to die here for thy sake. into Latin Lyric Verse 133 If thou canst get but thither, there grows the flower of peace ; the rose that cannot wither, thy fortress and thy ease. Leave then thy foohsh ranges ; '' for none can thee secure, but One, who iiever changes, thy God, thy Life, thy Cure. H. VAUGHAN T' 310 .LOVE'S IMMORTALITY 'HEY sin who tell us Love can die. With life all other passions fly, all others are but vanity: in heaven ambition cannot dwell, nor avarice in the vaults of hell : earthly these passions, as of earth, they perish where they have their birth. But Love is indestrucflible ; its holy flame for ever burneth, from heaven it came, to heaven returneth ; too oft on earth a troubled guest, at times deceived, at times opprest, it here is tried and purified, and hath in heaven its perfedl rest: it soweth here with toil and care, but the harvest-time of Love is there. Oh ! when a mother meets on high the babe she lost in infancy, hath she not then, for pains and fears, the day of woe, the anxious night, for all her sorrow, all her tears, an over- payment of delight! R. SOUTHEY 311 KEPLER'S PRAYER OTHOU, who by the light of Nature dost enkindle in us a desire after the hght of grace, that by this Thou mayest translate us into the light of glory : I give Thee thanks, O Lord and Creator, that Thou hast gladdened me by Thy Creation, when I was enraptured by the work of Thy hands. Behold, I have completed a work of my calling I i$4 Passages /or Translation with as much of intellecflual stre'^gth as Thou hast granted me. I have declared the praise of Thy works to the men who will read the evidences of it, so far as my finite spirit could comprehend them in their infinity. My mind endeavoured to its utmost to reach the truth by philosophy ; but if any- thing unworthy of Thee has been taught by me, a worm born and nourished in sin, do Thou teach me that I may corretl; it. Have I been seduced into presumption by the admirable beauty of Thy works, or have I sought my own glory amongst men in the construcflion of a work designed for Thine honour? O then graciously and mercifully for- give me; and finally grant me this favour, that this work may never be injurious; but may conduce to Thy glory and the good of souls. J. KEPLER 312 STILL LIKE HIS NATIVE STREAM N glowing youth he stood beside his native stream, and saw it glide shewing each gem beneath its tide, cahn as though nought could break its rest, retlefling heaven on its breast, and seeming, in its flow, to be like candour, peace and piety. When life began its brilliant dream, his heart was like his native stream: the wave-shrined gems could scarcely seem less hidden than each wish it knew ; its life flowed on as calmly too: and heaven shielded it from sin, to see itself reflected in. He stood beside that stream again, when years had fled in strife and pain; he looked for its calm course in vain, — for storms profaned its peaceful flow, and clouds o'erhung its crystal brow: and turning then, he sighed to deem his heart still like his native stream. B. W. PROCTER 313 TO PHYLLIS PHYLLIS! why should we delay pleasures shorter than the day ? into Latin Lyric Verse 13 5 Could we (which we never can) stretch our lives beyond their span; beauty like a shadow flies, and our youth before us dies. Or would youth and beauty stay, Love hath wings, and will away. Love hath swifter wings than Time: change in love to heaven does climb ; gods, that never change their state, vary oft their love and hate. Phyllis ! to this truth we owe all the iove betwixt us two : let not you and I enquire, what has been our past desire: on what shepherds you have smil'd, or what nymphs I have beguil'd : leave it to the planets too, what we shall hereafter do: for the joys we now may prove, take advice of present love. E. WALLER 3^4 A TIME FOR EVERV THING WHEN the crab's fierce constellation burns with the beams of the bright sun, then he that will go out to sow shall never reap where he did plough ; but instead of corn may rather the old world's diet, acorns gather. Who the violet doth love, must seek her in the flowery grove; but never when the North's cold wind the russet fields with frost doth bind. If in the spring-time (to no end) the tender vine for grapes we bend, we shall find none, for only still Autumn doth the wine-press fill. Thus for all things, in the world's prime, the wise God scal'd their proper time, nor will permit those seasons, he ordained by turns, should mingled be. Then, whose wild acftions out of season cross to nature and her reason 136 Passages for Translation would by new ways old orders rend, shall never find a happy end. H. VAUGHAN A' 315 SONG ^SK me no more where Jove bestows, when June is past, the fading rose : for in your beauties orient deep these flowers, as in their causes, sleep. Ask me no more, whither do stray the golden atoms of the day ; for, in pure love, heaven did prepare those powders to enrich your hair. Ask me no more, whither doth haste the nightingale, when May is past ; for in your sweet dividing throat she winters and keeps waim her note. Ask me no more, where those stars light that downwards fall in dead of night; for in your eyes they sit, and there fixed become, as in their sphere. Ask me no more, if east or west the phoenix builds her spicy nest ; for unto you at last she flies and in your fragrant bosom dies. T. CAREW 316 THE SHORTNESS OF LIFE AND UNCERTAINTY OF RICHES WHY dost thou heap up wealth, which thou must quit, or, what is worse, be left by it ? Why dost thou load thyself, when thou'rt to fly, O man ordained to die \ Why dost thou build up stately rooms on high, thou who art under ground to lie \ Thou sow'st and plantest, but no fruit must see, for Death alas ! is reaping thee. Thou dost thyself wise and industrious deem: A mighty husband thou would 'st seem; fond man! like a bought slave, thou all the while dost but for others sweat and toil. into Latin Lyric Verse 137 * Ev'n aged men, as if they truly were children again, for age prepare ; provisions for long travel they design in the last point of their short line. Wisely the ant against poor winter hoards the stock which summer's wealth affords ; in grasshoppers, which must in autumn die, how vain were such an industry ! oxn Of power and honour the deceitful light might half excuse our cheated sight, if it of life the whole small time would stay, and be our sunshine all the day. Like hghtning that begot but in a cloud, tho' shining bright and speaking loud) whilst it begins, concludes its violent race, and where it gilds, it wounds the place. O scene of Fortune, which dost fair appear only to men that stand not near ! proud poverty, that tinsel bravery wears ! and, like a rainbow, painted tears! Be prudent and the shore in prospecfl keep, in a weak boat trust not the deep, placed beneath envy, above envying rise, pity great men, great things despise. The wise example of the heavenly lark thy fellow-poet, Cowley, mark, above the clouds let thy proud music sound, thy humble nest build on the ground. A. COWLEY 318 TO A DYING INFANT SLEEP, little baby, sleep ! not in thy cradle bed, not on thy mother's breast henceforth shall be thy rest, but quiet with the dead. Flee, little tender nursling, flee to thy place of rest ! there the first flowers shall blow, the first pure flake of snow shall fall upon thy breast. 138 Passages for Translation I've seen thee in thy beauty, a thing all health and glee L but never then wert thou so beautiful, as now, baby ! thou seem'st to me. Mount up, immortal essence ! young spirit! haste, depart — • and is this Death! — Dread thing! if such thy visiting, how beautiful thou art! C. BCWLES 319 THE QUIET LIFE HAPPY the man, whose wish and care a few paternal acres bound ; content to breathe his native air in his own ground. Whose herds with milk, whose fields with bread, whose flocks supply him with attire ; whose trees in summer yield him shade, in winter, fire. Blest, who can unconcern 'dly find hours, days, and years, slide soft away, in health of body, peace of mind, quiet by day, sound sleep by night : study and ease together mix'd ; sweet recreation, and innocence, which most doth please with meditation. Thus let me live, unseen, unknown; thus unlamcnted let me die ; steal from the world, and not a stone tell where I lie. A. POPE 320 VERSES TO HIS WIFE IF thou, my love, wert by my side, my children at my knee, how gaily would our pinnace glide o'er Gunga's mimic sea! info Latin Lyric Verse 139 I miss thee, at the dawning gray, when, on the deck reclined, in careless ease my limbs I lay, and woo the cooler wind. I miss thee when by Gunga's stream my twilight steps I guide ; but most beneath the lamp's pale beam I miss thee from my side. I spread my books, my pencil try, the lingering noon to cheer, but miss thy kind approving eye, thy meek attentive ear. Yet when of morn and eve the star beholds me on my knee, I feel, though thou art distant far, thy prayers ascend for me. R. HEBER 321 THE GOOD ALONE ARE GREAT WHEN winds the mountain oak assail, and lay its glories waste, content may slumber in the vale, unconscious of the blast. Thro' scenes of tumult while we roam, the heart, alas ! is ne'er at home, it hopes in time to roam no more ; the mariner, not vainly brave, combats the storm, and rides the wave, to rest at last on shore. Ye proud, ye selfish, ye severe, how vain your mask of state ! the good alone have joy sincere, that good alone are great : great, when, amid the vale of peace, they bid the plaint of sorrow cease, and hear the voice of artless praise ; as when along the trophy'd plain sublime they lead the viclor train, while shouting nations gaze. J. BEATTIE 14^'- Passages for Translation 322 TO AN EARLY PRIMROSE 323 MILD offspring of a dark and sullen sire, whose modest form, so delicately fine, was nursed in whirling storms, and cradled in the winds ; thee when young spring first questioned winter's sway, and dared the sturdy blusterer to the fight, thee on this bank he threw to mark the victory. In this low vale, the promise of the year, serene, thou openest to the nipping gale, unnoticed and alone, thy tender elegance. So virtue blooms, brought forth amid the storms of chill adversity ; in some lone walk of life she rears her head, obscure and unobserved; while every bleaching breeze that on her blows, chastens her spotless purity of breast, and hardens her to bear serene the ills of life. H, K. WHITE THE SONG OF DIANA WITH horns and with hounds, I waken the day; and hie to the woodland-walks away: I tuck up my robe, and am buskined soon, and tie to my forehead a wexing moon. I course the fleet stag, unkennel the fox, and chase the wild goats o'er summits of rocks, with shouting and hooting we pierce through the sky, and Echo turns hunter, and doubles the cry. SONG OF MARS Inspire the vocal brass, inspire; the world is past its infant age: arms and honour, arms and honour, set the martial soul on fire, and kindle manly rage. into Latin Lyric Verse 141 Mars has look'd the sky to red ; and Peace, the lazy good, is fled. Plenty, peace, and pleasure fly: the sprightly green in woodland-walks no more is seen ; the sprightly green has drunk the Tyrian dye. J. DRYDEN ^24 TO APOLLO APOLLO!— king Apollo! - in what enchanted region dost thou stay?- is it in the azure air or in the caverns hollow, which Thetis at the set of day in the sea waters far away buildeth up, as blue and fair as thy own bright kingdoms are? O King of life and light ! O peerless Archer! O triumphant God! behold! — the golden rod now pointeth to the promised hour, — twilight; and she who loves thee so is pale and full of woe.— No wave nor throne have I, no bower nor golden grove, no palace built on high, to tempt thee not to rove, but truth, and such a love as would not shame the sky, — if these be nothing, Time shall teach me how to die. B. W. PROCTER 325 THE LAND O' THE LEAL I'M wearing awa', Jean, like snaw when it is thaw, Jean, I 'm wearing awa' to the land o' the leal. There's nae sorrow there, Jean, there's neither cauld nor care, Jean, the day is aye fair in the land o' the leal. 14^ Passages for Translation Ye were aye leal and true, Jean, your task's ended noo, Jean, and I '11 welcome you to the land o' the leal. Our bonnie bairn's there, Jean, she was baith guid and fair, Jean; O we grudged her right sair to the land o' the leal ! then dry that tearfu' e'e, Jean, my soul langs to be free, Jean, and angels wait on me to the land o' the leal, now fare ye weel, my ain Jean, this warld's care is vain, Jean; we'll meet and aye be fain in the land o' the leal. LADY NAIRN H 326 THE NIGHTINGALE ARK, how through many a melting note she now prolongs her lays ; how sweetly down the void they float ! the breeze their magic path attends: the stars shine out; the forest bends: the wakeful heifers gaze. Whoe'er thou art whom chance may bring to this sequestered spot, if then the plaintive Siren sing, O softly tread beneath her bower, and think of heaven's disposing power, of man's uncertain lot. O think, o'er all this mortal stage what mournful scenes arise ; what ruin waits on kingly rage; how often virtue dwells with woe; liow many griefs from knowledge flow; how swiftly pleasure flies. O sacred bird, let me at eve, thus wandering all alone, thy tender counsel oft receive, bear witness to thy pensive airs, and pity Nature's common cares till I forget my own. M. AKENSIDE into Latin Lyric Verse 143 27 LOUISA . I MET Louisa in the shade, and having seen that lovely maid why should I fear to say that nymph-like she is fleet and strong, and down the rocks can leap along like rivulets in May? And smiles has she to earth unknown; smiles, that with motion of their own do spread and sink and rise ; that come and go with endless play, and ever as they pass away are hidden in her eyes. She loves her fire, her cottage-home : yet o*er the moorland will she roam in weather rough and bleak ; and, when against the wind she strains, O might I kiss the mountain rains that sparkle on her cheek ! Take all that's mine beneath the moon, if I with her but half a noon may sit beneath the walls of some old cave or mossy nook, when up she winds along the brook to hunt the waterfalls. W. WORDSWORTH 02S VIRTUE MAN'S SUREST STAV THE sturdy rock, for all his strength, by raging seas is rent in twain; the marljle stone is pierced at length with little drops of drizzling rain: the ox doth yield unto the yoke ; the steel obeyeth the hammer stroke. The stately stag, that seems so stout, by yelping hounds at bay is set: the swiftest bird, that flies about, is caught at length in fowler's net: the greatest fish in deepest brook . '■■ is soon deceived by subtle hook. 144 Passages for Translation Yea, man himself, unto whose will all things are bounden to obey, for all his wit and worthy skill, doth fade at length and fall away. There is no thing but time doth waste ; the heavens, the earth, consume at last. But virtue sits, triumphing still, upon the throne of glorious Fame: though spiteful death man's body kill, yet hurts he not his virtuous name. By life or death what so betides, the state of virtue never slides. 329 LAPLAND LOVE -SONG THOU rising sun, whose gladsome ray invites my fair to rural play, dispel the mist, and clear the skies, and bring my Orra to my eyes. O ! were I sure my dear to view, I'd climb that pine-tree's topmost bough, fast by the roots enraged I'd tear the trees that hide my promised fair. Oh ! could I ride the clouds and skies, or on the raven's pinions rise; ye storks, ye swans, a moment stay, and waft a lover on his way. My bliss too long my bride denies, apace the wasting summer flies: nor yet the wintry blasts I fear, not storms or night shall keep me here. What may for strength with steel compare? O love has fetters stronger far: by bolts of steel are limbs confined, but cruel love enchains the mind. No longer then perplex thy breast; when thoughts torment, the first are best: 'tis mad to go, 'tis death to stay: away to Orra, haste away. A. PHILIPS into Latin Lyric Verse 145 330 LOVE-SONG MY dear and only love, I pray- that little world of thee be governed by no other sway but purest monarchy. And in the empire of thy heart, where I should solely be, let none beside pretend a part, or dare to share with me. As Alexander I will reign, and I will reign alone ; my thoughts did evermore disdain a rival on my throne. He either fears his fate too much, or his deserts are small, who dares not put it to the touch to gain or lose it all. But if no faithless acflion stain thy love and constant word, I'll make thee famous by my pen and glorious by my sword ; I'll serve thee in such noble ways as ne'er was known before ; I'll deck and crown thy head with bays and love thee evermore. MARQUIS OF MONTROSE '>,'>,l NEW SELF WHY sittest thou on that sea-girt rock with downward look and sadly-dreaming eye : playest thou beneath with Proteus' flock, or with the far-bound sea-bird wouldst thou fly \ OLD SELF I sit upon this sea-girt rock with downward look and dreaming eye; But neither do I sport with Proteus' flock, nor with the far-bound sea-bird would I fly. F. s. II. 10 14^ Passages for Translation I list the splash so clear and chill of yon old fisher's solitary oar: I watch the waves that rippling still chase one another o'er the marble shore. NEW SELF Yet from the splash of yonder oar no dreamy sound of sadness comes to me: and yon fresh waves that beat the shore, how merrily they splash, how merrily! OLD SELF I mourn for the delicious days, when those calm sounds fell on my childish ear, a stranger yet to the wild ways of triumph and remorse, of hope and fear. NEIV SELF Moumest thou, poor soul ! and thou wouldst yet call back the things which shall not, cannot be \ Heaven must be won, not dreamed: thy task is set, peace was not made for earth, nor rest for thee. LYR.\ APOSTOLIC.\ ^^yi ON THE DEATH OF COLONEL CHARLES ROSS IN THE ACTION AT FONTENOY BLEST youth, regardful of thy doom aerial hands shall build thy tomb, with shadowy trophies crowned : whilst Honour bathed in tears shall rove to sigh thy name through every grove, and call his heroes round. By rapid Schelde's descending wave his country's vows shall bless the grave, . where'er the youth is laid: that sacred spot the village hind with every sweetest turf shall bind, and Peace protecfl the shade. The warlike dead of every age, who fill the fair recording page. i\ into Latin Lyric Verse 147 shall leave their sainted rest ; and, half reclining on his spear, each wondering chief by turns appear, to hail the blooming guest. But lo, where sunk in deep despair, her garments torn, her bosom bare, impatient Freedom lies ! her matted tresses madly spread, to every sod, which wraps the dead, she turns her joyless eyes. W. COLLINS A" ^^^ THE PROGRESS OF POESY ^WAKE, Aeolian lyre, awake, and give to rapture all thy trembling strings. From Helicon's harmonious springs a thousand rills their mazy progress take: the laughing flowers that round them blow drink life and fragrance as they flow. Now the rich stream of Music winds along deep, majestic, smooth, and strong, through verdant vales, and Ceres' golden reign ; now rolling down the steep amain headlong, impetuous, see it pour: the rocks and nodding groves re-bellow to the roar. O Sovereign of the willing soul, parent of sweet and solemn-breathing airs, enchanting shell! the sullen Cares and, frantic Passions hear thy soft control. On Thracia's hills the Lord of War has curb'd the fury of his car and dropt his thirsty lance at thy command. Perching on the sceptred hand of Jove, thy magic lulls the feather'd king with ruffled plumes, and flagging wing: quench'd in dark clouds of slumber he the terror of his beak, and lightnings of his eye. 334 Thee the voice, the dance, obey, temper'd to thy warbled lay. O'er Idalia's velvet-green the rosy-crowned Loves are seen on Cytherea's day, 10 — 2 148 Passages for Translation with antic Sport, and blue-eyed Pleasures, frisking light in frolic measures ; now pursuing, now retreating, now in circling troops they meet : to brisk notes in cadence beating glance their many-twinkling feet. Slow melting strains their Queen's approach declare: where'er she turns the Graces homage pay: with arms sublime that Hoat upon the air in gliding «tate she wins her easy way: o'er her warm check and rising bosom move the bloom of young Desire and purple light of Love. T. GRAY zzs UPON THE SHORTNESS OF MAN'S LIFE MARK that swift arrow hovv' it cuts the air, how it outruns thy following eye, use all persuasions now, and try if thou canst call it back or stay it there ; that way it went, but thou shall find no track is left behind. Fool, 'tis thy life, and the fond Archer thou, of all the time thou'st shot away I '11 bid thee fetch but yesterday, and it shall be too hard a task to do. Besides repentance, what canst find that it hath left behind? Our life is carried with too strong a tide, a doubtful cloud our substance bears, and is the horse of all our years ; each day doth on a winged whirlwind ride. We and our glass run out, and must both render up our dust. But his past life who without grief can see, who never thinks his end too near, but says to fame, thou art mine heir, that man extends life's natural brevity: this is, this is the only way to outlive Nestor in a day. A. COWLEY into Latin Lyric Verse 149 '^'if^ THE CVPRESS-VVREATH OLADY, twine no wreath for me, or twine it of the cypress-tree. Too lively glow the lilies light, the varaished holly 's all too bright, the may-flower and the eglantine may shade a brow less sad than mine; but, lady, weave no wreath for me, or weave it of the cypress-tree. Let dimpled Mirth his temples twine with tendrils of the laughing vine; the manly oak, the pensive yew, to patriot and to sage be due ; the myrtle-bough bids lovers live, but that Matilda will not give ; then, lady, twine no wreath for me, or twine it of the cypress-tree. Yes, twine for me the cypress-bough, but O, Matilda, twine not now: stay 'till a few brief months are past, and I have looked and loved my last. When villagers my shroud bestrew with pansies, rosemary, and rue, then, lady, weave a wreath for me, and weave it of the cypress-tree. SIR w. SCOTT yTf'] INSTABILITY OF AFFECTION ALAS, how light a cause may move l\. dissension between hearts that love; hearts that the world in vain had tried, and sorrow but more closely tied ; that stood the stomi, when waves were rough, yet in a sunny hour fall off, a something light as air — a look, a word unkind 01 wrongly taken— O love, that tempests never shook, a breath, a touch like this hath shaken. And ruder words will soon rush in to spread the breach that words begin; 150 Passages for Trajislation and eyes forget the gentle ray they wore in courtship's smihng day ; and voices lose the tone that shed a tenderness round all they said ; till fast declining, one by one, the sweetnesses of love are gone, and hearts so lately mingled seem like broken clouds, or like the stream, that smiling left the mountain's brow, as though its \/aters ne'er could sever, yet, ere it reach the plain below, breaks into floods that part for ever. T. MOORE 338 THE OMNIPRESENCE OF THE GREAT SPIRIT THERE is a tongue in every leaf, a voice in every rill — a voice that speaketh everywhere, in flood and fire, through earth and air — • a tongue that's never still. 'Tis the Great Spirit, wide diffused through every thing we see, that with our spirits communeth of things mysterious — life and death, time and eternity ! I see him in the blazing sun and in the thunder-cloud ; I hear him in the mighty roar that rusheth through the forests hoar when winds are raging loud. I feel him in the silent dews by grateful earth betrayed ; I feel him in the gentle showers, the soft south-wind, the breath of flowers, the sunshine and the shade. I see him, hear him, everywhere, in all things— darkness, light, silence, and sound; but most of all, when slumber's dusky curtains fall, r the silent hour of night. C. BOWLES 339 340 into Latin Lyric Verse 151 AD DIVINAM SAPIENTIAM ALMIGHTY Spirit! thou that by l\. set turns and changes from thy high and glorious throne dost here below rule all, and all things dost foreknow; can those blind plots we here discuss please thee, as thy vise counsels us? When thou thy blessings here dost strow, and pour on Earth, we flock and flow with joyous strife and eager care, struggling which shall have the best share in thy rich gifts, just as we see children about nuts disagree. Some that a crown have got and foiled break it ; another sees it spoiled ere it is gotten : thus the world is all to piece-meal cut, and hurled by fadlious hands.^ It is a ball which fate and force divide 'twixt all the sons of men. But O good God ! while these for dust fight and a clod, grant that poor I may smile and be at rest and perfefl peace with Thee. H. VAUGHAN THE POET TO HIS FARM DEAR mansion, once my father's home, sweet farm, his pride and joy, ye could not shield, ye could not save, ■when he was carried to the grave, his little orphan boy! A stranger came with iron hand, lord of that evil day: and drove me forth with weeping eye, to seek through toil and poverty my miserable way. But now my gracious Prince restores his poet's home again : he comes with his victorious reed, to teach the river, mount and mead a proud yet grateful strain. 152 Passages for Translation He comes in yonder latticed room . to dream of manhood's days ; he comes, beneath his father's trees to mix with rustic melodies the great Famese's praise. Break forth, my father's blessed home, thou prize of minstrelsy ! He comes, the good old master's son: up with thy tuneful benison, give praise and melody ! E. W. BARNARD 341 THE CASTLE OF ARLINKOW HIGH on a rock, whose castled shade darkened the lake below, in ancient strength majestic stood the towers of Arlinkow. The fisher in the lake below durst never cast his net, nor ever swallow in its waves her passing wing would wet. The cattle from its ominous banks in wild alariTi would run, though parched with thirst and faint beneath the summer's scorching sun. For sometimes when no passing breeze the long lank sedges waved, all white with foam and heaving high its deafening billows raved; and when the tempest from its base ^| the rooted pine would shake, " the powerless storm unruffled swept across the calm dead lake. And ever then when death drew near the house of Arlinkow, its dark unfathomed depths did send strange music from below. R. SOUTHEY into Latin Lyric Verse 153 342 HIS POETRY HIS PILLAR ONLY a little more I have to write, then I'll give o'er, and bid the world good-night 'Tis but a flying minute, that I must stay, or linger in it, and then I must away. O Time that cut'st down all, and scarce leav'st here memorial of any men that were ; How many lie forgot in vaults beneath ; and piece-meal rot without a fame in death ? Behold this living stone I rear for me, ne'er to be thrown down, envious Time, by thee. Pillars let some set up, if so they please, here is my hope, and my pyramides. R. HERRICK 343 PRAISE OF A COUNTRY LIFE ABUSED mortals ! did you know - where joy, hearts-ease, and comforts grow, you'd scorn proud towers, and seek them in these bowers where winds sometimes our woods perhaps may shake, but blustering care could never tempest make, nor murmurs e'er come nigh us, saving of fountains that glide by us. Here's no fantastic masque or dance, but of our kids that frisk and prance; 154 Passages for Translation nor wars are seen, unless upon the green two harmless lambs are butting one the other ; which done, both bleating run, each to his mother; and wounds are never found, save what the ploughshare gives the ground. Go ! let the diving Negro seek for gems hid in some forlorn creek : we all pearls scorn, save what the dewy morn congeals upon each little spire of grass, which careless shepherds beat down as they pass: and gold ne'er here appears, save what the yellow Ceres bears. SIR W. RALEIGH I 344 ODE ON THE DEATH OF JAMES THOMSON N yonder grove a Druid lies, where slowly winds the stealing wave ! The year's best sweets shall duteous rise to deck its poet's sylvan grave. In yon deep bed of whispering reeds his airy harp shall now be laid, that he, whose heart in sorrow bleeds, may love through life the soothing shade. The maids and youth shall linger here, and while its sounds at distance swell, shall sadly seem in Pity's ear to hear the woodland pilgrim's knell. Remembrance oft shall haunt the shore when Thames in summer wreaths is drest, and oft suspend the dashing oar, to bid his gentle spirit rest! And oft as ease and health retire to breezy lawn, or forest deep, the friend shall view yon whitening spire, and 'mid the varied landscape weep. 345 ^"^ 'Ci\ovi who own'st that earthly bed. Ah ! what will every dirge avail ? or tears, which Love and Pity shed, that mourn beneath the gliding sail ! into Latin Lyric Verse 155 Yet lives there one, whose heedless eye shall scorn thy pale shrine glimmering near? with him, sweet bard, may Fancy die, and Joy desert the blooming year. But thou, lorn stream, whose sullen tide no sedge- crowned sisters now attend ; now waft me from the green hill's side, whose cold turf hides the buried friend ! And see, the fairj^ valleys fade ; dun night has veiled the solemn view ! yet once again, dear parted shade, meek Nature's Child, again adieu ! The genial meads, assigned to bless thy life, shall mourn thy early doom ; their hinds and shepherd girls shall dress with simple hands thy rural tomb. Long, long, thy stone and pointed clay shall melt the musing Briton's eyes: O ! vales, and wild woods, shall he say, in yonder grove your Druid lies! W. COLLINS 346 A DIRGE REST on your battle-fields, ye brave! let the pines murmur o'er your grave, your dirge be in the moaning wave — we call you back no more ! O there was mourning when ye fell, in your own vales a deep-toned knell, an agony, a wild farewell — but that hath long been o'er. Rest with your still and solemn fame; the hills keep record of your name, and never can a touch of shame darken the buried brow. But we on changeful days arc cast when bright names from their place fall fast ; and ye that with your glory passed, we cannot mourn you now. F. HEMANS 156 Passages for Translation 347 THE HAMLET THE hinds how blest, who ne'er beguiled to quit their hamlet's hawthorn wild, nor haunt the crowd, nor tempt the main for splendid care and guilty gain ! When morning's tvvilight-tin6tur'd beam strikes their low thatch with slanting gleam, they rove abroad in ether blue, to dip the scythe in fragrant dew ; the sheaf to bind, the beech to fell, that nodding shades a craggy delL 'Midst gloomy glades, in warbles clear, wild nature's sweetest notes .they hear: on green untrodden banks they view the hyacinth's neglecfled hue: in their lone haunts, and woodland rounds, they spy the squirrel's airy bounds ; and startle from her ashen spray, across the glen, the screaming jay: each native charm their steps explore of Solitude's sequestered store. 348 For them the moon with cloudless ray mounts to illume their homeward way ; their weary spirits to relieve, the meadows incense breathe at eve. No riot mars the simple fare, that o'er a glimmering hearth they share; but when the curfew's measured roar duly, the darkening valleys o'er, has echoed from the distant town, they wish no beds of cygnet-down, no trophied canopies, to close their drooping eyes in quick repose. Their humble porch with honied flowers, the curling woodbine's shade imbowers: from the small garden's thymy mound their bees in busy swarm resound : nor fell Disease, before his time, hastes to consume life's golden prime: into Latin Lyric Verse 157 but when their temples long have wore the silver crown of tresses hoar ; as studious still calm peace to keep, beneath a flowery turf they sleep. T. WARTON 349 THE TIMBER SURE thou didst flourish once! and many Springs, many bright mornings, much dew, many showers past o'ei thy head ; many light hearts and wings, which now are dead, lodg'd in thy living bowers. And still a new succession sings and flies ; fresh groves grow up and their green branches shoot towards the old and still enduring skies ; while the low violet thrives at their root. But thou beneath the sad and heavy line of death dost waste all senseless, cold and dark ; where not so much as dreams of light may shine, nor any thought of greenness, leaf or bark. And yet, as if some deep hate and dissent, bred in thy growth betwixt high winds and thee, were still alive, thou dost great storms resent, before they come, and know'st how near they be. Else all at rest thou lyest, and the fierce breath of tempests can no more disturb thy ease ; but this thy strange resentment after death means only those who broke in life thy peace. H. VAUGHAN 350 BLESSED ARE THEY THAT MOURN OH, deem not they are blest alone whose lives a peaceful tenor keep ; the Power who pities man, has shown a blessing for the eyes that weep. The light of smiles shall fill again the lids that overflow with tears ; and weary hours of woe and pain are promises of happier years. 158 Passages for Translation There is a day of sunny rest for every dark and troubled night; and grief may bide an evening guest, but joy shall come with early light. And thou, who o'er thy friend's low bier sheddest the bitter drops like rain, '' hope that a brighter, happier sphere will give him to thy arms again. For God has marked each sorrowing day and numbered every secret tear, and heaven's long age of bliss shall pay for all his children suffer here. W. C, BRYANT 351 ANACREONTIC BENEATH a thick and silent shade that secm'd for pure devotion made in holy rapture strctch'd along (Urania lay to aid my song) I tun'd my voice and touch'd the lyre while heav'nly themes the Muse inspire ; I sung the beauties of the grove I sung th' Almighty power above, but striving more my notes to raise, and to my subjedl suit my lays, a string o'erstrain'd, in pieces flew, and sudden from its place withdrew. Under my hand the chord I found, but lost alas! the sprightly sound. So pierc'd by Death's relentless dart we view the lifeless earthly part, the soul invisible takes wing as sound that leaves the breaking string. J 0^^% VITA EST BENEFACTIS EXTENDENDA THE snow, that crowns each mountain's brow, and whitens every spray, fom each high rock and loaded bough will quickly melt away; i mto Latin Lyric Verse 159 soon as the sun's reviving ray shall warm the northern gale ; and Zephyrs mild their wing display to wanton in the vale. When Time upon thine aged brow shall shed the fatal shower; the hoary frost, the chilling snow, will melt from thence no more. Quick summer flies, and autumn's suns, and winter's cheerless gloom; in changeful turn each season runs, and spring breathes new perfume. Unchanged o'er us the tempest low'rs, till death's last hour arrives: nor robe, nor garland deck'd with flowers, the bloom of life revives. What youth on us but once bestows, age once shall snatch away: but Fame can stop the fatal blows, and double life's short day. Long shall he live, whose bright career deserv'd a patriot's sigh ; all else flies with the fleeting year, but Fame can never die. W. HERBERT 353 THE SAME IT would less vex distressed man if Fortune in the same pace ran to ruin him, as he did rise ; but highest states fall in a trice. No great success held ever long: a restless fate afflitfls the throng of Kings and Commons, and less days serve to destroy them, than to raise. Gook luck smiles once an age, but bad makes kingdoms in a minute sad, and every hour of life we drive, hath o'er us a prerogative. Then leave (by wild Impatience driven, and rash resents,) to rail at heaven, i6o Passages for Translatiott leave an unmanly, weak complaint that Death and Fate have no restraint. In the same hour, that gave thee breath, thou hadst ordained thy hour of death, but he lives most, who here will buy with a few tears eternity, H. VAUGHAN w 354 THE EXODUS OF THE ISRAELITES HEN Israel was from bondage led, led by th' Almighty's hand from out a foreign land, the great sea beheld and fled. As men pursu'd, when that fear past they find, stop on some higher ground to look behind, so whilst through wondrous ways the sacred army went, the waves afar stood up to gaze, and their own rocks did represent, solid as waters are above the firmament. Old Jordan's waters to their spring start back with sudden fright ; the spring amazed at sight, asks what news from sea they bring. The mountains shook, and to the mountain's side the little hills leapt round themselves to hide; as young affrighted lambs, when they ought dreadful spy, run trembling to their helpless dams, the mighty sea and river by were glad for their excuse to see the hills to fly. A. COWLEY ZSS PANEGYRIC ON THE HIGH PRIEST SIMON, SON OF ONI AS HOW was he honoured in the midst of the people in his coming out of the sanctuary! He was as the morning star in the midst of the cloud, and as the moon at the full ; as the sun shining upon the temple of the most High, and as the rainbow giving light in the bright clouds : and as the flower of roses in the spring of the year, as lilies by the rivers of waters. t ?>s^ into Latin Lyric Verse i6i- and as the branches of the frankincense tree in summer : as fire and incense in the censer, and as a vessel of gold set with precious stones, as a fair olive-tree, budding forth fruit, and as a cypress which groweth up to the clouds. When he put on the robe of honour, and was clothed with the perfection of glory, when he went up to the holy altar, he made the garment of holiness honourable. He himself stood by the hearth of the altar, compassed with his brethren round about, as a young cedar in Libanus ; and as palm trees compassed they him round about. ECCLESIASTICUS MUTABILITY THE flower that smiles to-day to-morrow dies ; all that we wish to stay tempts and then flies : what is this world's delight? lightning that mocks the night, brief even as bright. Virtue, how frail it is ! friendship too rare ! Love, how it sells poor bliss for proud despair ! but we, though soon they fall, survive their joy and all which ours we call. Whilst skies are blue and bright, whilst flowers are gay, whilst eyes that change ere night make glad the day ; whilst yet the calm hours creep, dream thou — and from thy sleep then wake to weep. P. B. SHELLEY 357 SUMMER'S DEPARTURE AND RETURN FAREWELL! on wings of sombre stain, that blacken in the last blue skies, thou fliest ; but thou wilt come again on the gay wings of butterflies : F. s. n. II 1 62 Passages for Translation spring at thy approach will sprout her new Corinthian beauties out, leaf-woven homes, where twitter-words will grow to songs — and eggs to birds; ambitious buds shall swell to flowers, and April smiles to sunny hours. Bright days shall be, and gentle nights full of soft breath and echo lights, as if the god of sun-time kept his eyes half-open while he slept, roses shall be where roses were, not shadows but reality, as if they never perished there, but slept in immortality : Nature shall thrill with new delight, and Time's relumined river run warm as young blood, and dazzling bright as if its source were in the sun. T. HOOD 358 THE TRUE KING "T^IS not wealth that makes a king, J- nor the purple's colouring, nor a brow that's bound with gold, nor gates on mighty hinges rolled. The king is he who, void of fear, looks abroad with bosom clear, who can tread ambition down, nor be swayed by sinile or frown, nor for all the treasure cares that mine conceals or harvest bears, or that golden sands deliver bosomed in a glassy river. What shall move his placid might? nor the headlong thunder-light, nor the storm that rushes out to snatch the shivering waves about, nor all the shapes of slaughter's trade, with forward lance or fiery blade. Safe with wisdom for his crown, he looks on all things calmly down ; he welcomes fate, when fate is near, nor taints his dying breath with fear. into Latin Lyr'ic Verse 163 359 COMPLAINT ON ENGLAND'S MISERIES AH, happy Isle, how art thou chang'd and curst, ^ since I was born and knew thee tirst ! when Peace, which had forsook the world around, (frighted with noise and the shrill trumpet's sound), thee for a private place of rest and a secure retirement chose wherein to build her halcyon nest; no wind durst stir abroad the air to discompose. When all the riches of the globe beside flowed in to thee with every tide ; when all that nature did thy soil deny the growth was of thy fruitful industry ; when all the proud and dreadful sea, and all his tributary-streams, a constant tribute paid to thee ; when all the liquid world was one extended Thames. Unhappy Isle ! no ship of thine at sea was ever tossed and torn like thee : thy naked hulk loose on the waves does beat, the rocks and banks around her ruin threat : what did thy foolish pilots ail, to lay the compass quite aside ? without a law or rule to sail, and rather take the winds than heavens to be their guide ? A. COWLEY 360 ADVERSITY THE SCHOOL OF HEROISM SO, when the wisest poets seek in all their liveliest colours to set forth a pifturc of heroic worth, (the pious Trojan or the prudent Greek) they choose some comely Prince of heavenly birth, (no proud gigantic Son of earth who strives t' usurp the gods' forbidden seat); they feed him not with necflar, and the meat that cannot without joy be eat ; but in the cold of want and storms of adverse chance they harden his young virtue by degrees ; the beauteous drop first into ice docs freeze, and into solid crystal next advance. II— 2 164 Passages for Translation His murdered friends and kindred he does see, and from his flaming country flee : much is he tossed at sea and much at land, does long the force of angry gods withstand: he does long troubles and long wars sustain, \ ere he his fatal birthright gain. With no less time or labour can destiny build up such a man, who's with sufficient virtue fiU'd his ruin'd country to rebuild. A. COWLEY T" 361 DEATH THE LEVELLER 'HE glories of our blood and state are shadows, not substantial things: there is no armour against fate; Death lays his icy hands on kings : Sceptre and Crown must tumble down and in the dust be equal made with the poor crooked scythe and spade. Some men with swords may reap the field, and plant fresh laurels where they kill ; but their strong nerves at last must yield ; they tame but one another still: early or late they stoop to fate, and must give up their murmuring breath ■when they, pale captives, creep to death. The garlands wither on your brow ; then boast no more your mighty deeds ; upon Death's purple altar now see where the vicSlor-vicftim bleeds : your heads must come to the cold tomb ; only the actions of the just smell sweet, and blossom in the dust. J. SHIRLEY 0^61 THE GREAT LEVELLER 'HY should man's aspiring mind burn in him with so proud a breath, when all his haughty views can find in this world yields to death ? w into Latin Lyric Verse 165 The fair, the brave, the vain, the wise, the rich, the poor, the great and small are each but worms' anatomies, to strew his quiet hall. Power may make many earthly gods, where gold and bribery's guilt prevails ; but death's unwelcome honest odds kicks o'er the unequal scales. The flatter'd great may clamours raise of power, — and their own weakness hide; but death shall find unlooked-for ways to end the farce of pride. Death levels all things, in his march nought can resist his mighty strength; the palace proud, — triumphal arch, shall mete their shadow's length: the rich, the poor, one common bed shall find m the unhonoured grave, where weeds shall crown alike the head of tyrant and of slave. A. MARVELL 2^6 '>^ THE GREEK BOY GONE are the glorious Greeks of old, glorious in mien and mind ; their bones are mingled with the mould, their dust is on the wind ; the forms they hewed from living stone survive the waste of years alone, and scattered with their ashes, shew what greatness perished long ago. Yet fresh the myrtles there — the springs gush brightly as of yore ; flowers blossom from the dust of kings, as many, an age before ; there nature moulds as nobly now, as e'er of old, the human brow ; and copies still the martial form that braved Plataea's battle storm. i66 Passages for Translation Boy! thy first looks were taught to seek their heaven in Hellas' skies; her airs have tinged thy dusky cheek, her sunshine lit thine eyes; \ and Greece, decayed, dethroned, doth see her youth renewed in such as thee ; a shoot of that old vine that made the nations silent in its shade. 364 W. C. BRYANT CONTEMPLA TION O VOICE divine, whose heavenly strain no mortal measure may attain, O powerful to appease the smart that festers in a wounded heart, whose mystic numbers can assuage the bosom of tumultuous rage, can strike the dagger from despair, and shut the watchful eye of care. Oft lured by thee, when wretches call, Hope comes, that cheers and softens all ; expelled by thee, and dispossest Envy forsakes the human breast. Full oft with thee the Bard retires, and lost to earth to heaven aspires: how nobly lost! with thee to rove through the long deepening solemn grove, or underneath the moonlight pale to silence trust some plaintive tale of nature's ills and mankind's woes, Avhile kings and all the proud repose: or where some holy aged oak a stranger to the woodman's stroke, from the high rock's aerial crown in twisting arches bending down, bathes in the smooth pellucid stream; full oft he waits the mystic dream of mankind's joys right understood, and of the all prevailing good. Go forth invoked, O voice divine ! and issue from thy sacred shrine. \V. HAMILTON into Latin Lyric Verse 167 '>JS^ TO A MOUNTAIN DAISY ON TURNING ONE DOWN WITH THE PLOUGH WEE, modest, crimson-tipped flow'r, thou's met me in an evil hour ; for I maun crush amang the stoure thy tender stem; to spare thee now is past my pow'r, thou bonnie gem! Cauld blew the bitter-biting north upon thy early, humble birth ; yet cheerfully thou glinted forth amid the storm, scarce reared above the parent earth thy tender form. The flaunting flow'rs our gardens yield high sheltering woods and wa's maun shield ; but thou, beneath the random bicld o' clod or stanc, adorns the histie stibble-field, unseen, alane. There, in thy scanty mantle clad, thy snawy bosom sun-ward spread, thou lifts thy unassuming head in humble guise; but now the share uptears thy bed, and low thou lies ! 'if^d Such is the fate of artless maid, sweet flowret of the rural shade, by love's simplicity betrayed, and guileless trust, till she, like thee, all soiled, is laid low i' the dust. Such is the fate of simple bard, on life's rough ocean luckless starred! unskilful he to note the card of prudent lore, till billows rage, and gales blow hard, and whelm him o'er! 1 68 Passages for Translation Such fatt to suffering worth is given, who long with wants and woes has striven, by human pride or cunning driven to misery's brink, till, wrenched of every stay but Heaven, he, ruined, sink! Even thou, who mourn'st the daisy's fate, that fate is thine — -no distant date ; stern Ruin's ploughshare drives, elate, full on thy bloom, till crushed beneath the furrow's weight shall be thy doom ! R. BURNS 0^6"] ON DISAPPOINTMENT WHAT is this passing scene 1 a peevish April day! a little sun — a little rain, and then night sweeps along the plain, and all things fade away. Man (soon discussed) yields up his trust. And all his hopes and fears lie with him in the dust. Oh, what is Beauty's pow'r? it flourishes and dies ! Will the cold earth its silence break, to tell how soft, how smooth a cheek beneath its surface lies? Mute, mute is all o'er Beauty's fall ; her praise resounds no more when mantled in her palL The most beloved on earth not long survives to-day: so music past is obsolete, and yet 'twas sweet, 'twas passing sweet, but now 'tis gone away. Thus does the shade in memory fade when in forsaken tomb the form belov'd is laid. H. K. WHITE 368 I into Latin Lyric Verse ^^9 SOLITUDE T is not that my lot is low, that bids this silent tear to flow; it is not grief that bids me moan ; it is that I am all alone. In woods and glens I love to roam, when the tired hedger hies him home ; or by the woodland pool to rest, when pale the star looks on its breast. Yet when the silent evening sighs with hallowed airs and symphonies, my spirit takes another tone, and sighs that it is all alone. The autumn leaf is sere and dead, it floats upon the water's bed; I would not be a leaf to die without recording sorrow's sigh! the woods and winds, with sullen wail, tell all the same unvaried tale; I've none to smile when I am free, And when I sigh, to sigh with me. Yet in my dreams a form I view, that thinks on me and loves me too: I start, and then, the vision flown, I weep that I am all alone. ^^^^^^ 369 TO VENUS COME, gentle Venus, and assuage a warring world, a bleeding age; for nature lives beneath thy ray, the wintry tempests haste away; a lucid calm invests the sea, thy native deep is full of thee : the flowering earth, where'er you fly, is all o'er spring, all sun the sky. A genial spirit warms the breeze; unseen among the blooming trees, the feather'd lovers tune their throat, the desert growls a soften' d note, 170 Passages for Translation glad o'er the meads the cattle bound ; and love and harmony go round. Come, thou delight of heaven and earth! to whom all creatures owe their birth ; O come, sweet smiling, tender, come ! and yet prevent our final doom. For long the furious god of war has crushed us with his iron car, has raged along our ruined plains, has soiled them with his cruel stains, has sunk our youth in endless sleep, and made the widowed virgin weep. J. THOMSON 370 TO THE SWALLOW O SWALLOW, Swallow, flying, flying South, fly to her and fall upon her gilded eaves, and tell her, tell her what 1 tell to thee. O tell her. Swallow, thou that knowest each, that bright and fierce and fickle is the South, and dark and true and tender is the North. O Swallow, Swallow, if I could follow, and light upon her lattice, I would pipe and trill, and cheep and twitter twenty million loves. O were I thou that she might take me in, and lay me on her bosom, and her heart would rock the snowy cradle till I died. Why lingereth she to clothe her heart with love, delaying as the tender ash delays to clothe herself, when all the woods are green? O tell her, Swallow, that thy brood is flown: say to her, I do but wanton in the South, but in the North long since my nest is made. O tell her, brief is life but love is long, and brief the sun of summer in the North, and brief the moon of beauty in the South. O Swallow, flying from the golden woods, fly to her, and pipe and woo her, and make her mine, and tell her, tell her, that I follow thee. A. TENNYSON N' into Latin Lyric Verse 171 371 HYMN ON THE NATIVITY O war, or battle's sound was heard the world around ; the idle spear and shield were high up hung ; the hooked chariot stood unstained with hostile blood ; the trumpet spake not to the armed throng; and kings sat still with awful eye, as if they surely knew their sovran Lord was by. But peaceful was the night, wherein the Prince of light his reign of peace upon the earth began : the winds, with wonder whist, smoothly the waters kissed whispering new joys to the mild ocean, who now hath quite forgot to rave, while birds of calm sit larooding on the charme'd wave. The stars, with deep amaze, stand fixed in steadfast gaze, bending one way their precious influence, and will not take their flight, for all the morning-light, or Lucifer that often warned them thence ; but in their glimmering orbs did glow, until their Lord himself bcspake, and bid them go. '^']1 The shepherds on the lawn or ere the point of dawn sat simply chatting in a rustic row; full little thought they than that the mighty Pan was kindly come to live with them below ; perhaps their loves, or else their sheep was all that did their silly thoughts so busy keep. When such music sweet their hearts and ears did greet as never was by mortal finger strook ; divinely-warbled voice answering the stringe'd noise, as all their souls in blissful rapture took : the air, such pleasure loth to lose, with thousand echoes still prolongs each heavenly close. 172 Passages for Translation Nature that heard such sound beneath the hollow round of Cynthia's seat the airy region thrilling, now was almost won to think her part was done, and that her reign had here its last fulfilling; she knew such harmony alone could hold all heaven and earth in happier union. "^fT^ The oracles are dumb ; no voice or hideous hum runs through the arched roof in words deceiving: Apollo from his shrine can no more divine, with hollow shriek the steep of Delphos leaving: no nightly trance or breathed spell inspires the pale-eyed priest from the prophetic cell. The lonely mountains o'er and the resounding shore a voice of weeping heard and loud lament ; from haunted spring and dale edged with poplar pale the parting Genius is with sighing sent ; with flower-inwoven tresses torn the nymphs in twilight shade of tangled thickets mourn. In consecrated earth, and on the holy hearth, the Lars and Lemures moan with midnight plaint ; in urns and altars round a drear and dying sound affrights the Flamens at their service quaint; and the chill marble seems to sweat, while each peculiar Power foregoes his wonted seat. J. MILTON 374 ODE TO PEACE COME, peace of mind, delightful guest ! return and make thy downy nest once more in this sad heart: nor riches I nor power pursue, nor hold forbidden joys in view; we therefore need not part. 375 into Latin Lyric Verse i73 Where wilt thou dwell, if not with me, from avarice and ambition free, and pleasure's fatal wiles ? For whom, alas! dost thou prepare the sweets that I was wont to share, the banquet of thy smiles ? The great, the gay, shall they partake the Heaven that thou alone canst make ? And wilt thou quit the stream that murmurs through the dewy mead, the grove and the sequestered shed, to be a guest with them \ For thee I panted, thee I prized ; for thee I gladly sacrificed whate'er I loved before ; and shall I see thee start away, and helpless, hopeless, hear thee say- farewell ! we meet no more ? W. COWPER ODE TO PEACE OTHOU ! who bad'st thy turtles bear swift from his grasp thy golden hair, and sought'st thy native skies ; when War, by vultures drawn from far, to Britain bent his iron car, and bade his storms arise ! Tired of his rude tyrannic sway our youth shall fix some festive day, his sullen shrines to burn: but thou, who hear'st the turning spheres, what sounds may charm thy partial ears, and gain thy blest return ! O Peace, thy injured robes upbind ! O rise, and leave not one behind of all thy beamy train: the British Lion, goddess sweet, lies stretched on earth to kiss thy feet, and own thy holier reign. Let others court thy transient smile, but come to grace thy western isle. 174 Passages for Translation by warlike Honour led ; and, while around her ports rejoice, while all her sons adore thy choice, with him for ever wed ! '^"16 TO SPRING W. COLLINS THE bright -haired sun with warmth benign bids tree and shrub and swelling vine their infant buds display: again the streams refresh the plains which Winter bound in icy chains, and sparkling bless his ray. Life-giving Zephyrs breathe around, and instant glows th' enamel'd ground with Nature's varied hues : not so returns our youth decayed, alas ! nor air nor sun nor shade the spring of life renews. The sun's too quick-revolving beam will soon dissolve the human dream, and bring th' appointed hour : too late we catch his parting ray, and mourn the idly-wasted day, no longer in our power. Then happiest he, whose lengthened sight pursues by virtue's constant light a hope beyond the skies ; where frowning Winter ne'er shall come, but rosy Spring for ever bloom and suns eternal rise. MISS FERRER 2)']'] HAPPY INSENSIBILITY IN a drear-nighted December, too happy, happy Tree, thy branches ne'er remember their green felicity; the north cannot undo them, with a sleety whistle through them, nor frozen thawings glue them from budding at the prime. into Latin Lyric Verse In a drear-nighted December, too happy, happy Brook, thy bubblings ne'er remember Apollo's summer-look ; but with a sweet forgetting they stay their crystal fretting, never, never petting about the frozen time. Ah ! would 'twere so with many a gentle girl and boy ! But were there ever any writhed not at passed joy? to know the change and feel it, when there is none to heal it, nor numbed sense to steal it — was never said in rhyme. 378 SPRING NOW each creature joys the other, passing happy days and hours ; one bu'd reports unto another, in the fall of silver showers ; whilst the earth, our common mother, hath her bosom decked with flowers. Whilst the greatest torch of heaven with bright rays warms Flora's lap, making nights and days both even, cheering plants with fresher sap: my field of flowers quite bereaven wants refresh of laetter hap. Echo, daughter of the air, (l^abbling guest of rocks and hills) knows the name of my fierce fair, and sounds the accents of my ills. Each thing pities my despair, whilst that she her lover kills : whilst that she (O cruel maid!) doth me and my love despise; my life's flourish is decayed, that depended on her eyes: but her will must be obeyed ; and well he ends for love who dies. 175 J. KEATS S. DANIEL 176 Passages for Translation 379 TO MAY Q' ,UEEN of fresh flowers, whom vernal stars obey, bring thy warm showers, bring thy genial ray. In nature's greenest livery drest descend on earth's expecftant breast, to earth and heaven a welcome guest, thou merry month of May! Mark! how we meet thee at dawn of dewy day ! hark ! how we greet thee with our roundelay! while all the goodly things that be in earth and air and ample sea are waking up to welcome thee, thou merry month of May! Flocks on the mountains, and birds upon their spray, tree, turf, and fountains all hold holiday ; and Love, the life of living things, Love waves his torch and claps his wings, and loud and wide thy praises sings, thou merry month of May. R. HEBER 380 NORTHERN SPRING YESTREEN the mountain's rugged brow was mantled o'er with dreary snow ; the sun set red behind the hill, and every breath of wind was still ; but ere he rose, the southern blast a ved o'er heaven's blue arch had cast : thick rolled the clouds, and genial rain poured the wide deluge o'er the plain: fair glens and verdant vales appear, and warmth awakes the budding year. O 'tis the touch of fairy hand that wakes the spring of Northern land! it warms not there by slow degrees, with changeful pulse, the uncertain breeze ; 38; 38- mio Latm Lyric Verse 177 but sudden on the wondering sight bursts forth the beam of hving light ; and instant verdure springs around, and magic flowers bedeck the ground: returned from regions far away the red-winged throstle pours his lay; the soaring snipe salutes the spring, as the breeze whistles through his wing ; and, as he hails the melting snows, the heath-cock claps his wings and crows. W. HERRERT THE SPRING NOW that the winter's gone, the earth hath lost her snow-white robes ; and now no more the frost candies the grasse, or castes an ycie creame upon the silver lake or chrystall streame ; but the warme sunne thawes the benummed earth, and makes it tender; gives a sacred birth to the dead swallow ; wakes in hollow tree the drowzie cuckow and the humble bee. Now doe a quire of chirping minstrels bring in tryumph to the world the youthfuU Spring : the vallies, hills, and woods, in rich araye, welcome the comming of the long'd-for May. Now all things smile: only my Love doth lowre : nor hath the scalding noon-day sunne the power ?o melt that marble yce, which still doth hold her heart congealed, and makes her pittie cold. The oxe which lately did for shelter flie into the stall, doth now securely lie in open fields ; and love no more is made by the fire-side ; but, in the cooler shade, Amyntas now doth with his Cloris sleepe under a sycamoure, and all things keepe time with the season — only she doth carry June in her eyes, in her heart January. T. CAREW ODE ON THE PLEASURE ARISING FROM riCISSITUDE NOW the golden Morn aloft waves her dew-bespangled wing, with vermeil cheek and whisper soft she woos the tardy Spring : F. S. II. 12 178 Passages for Translation till April starts, and calls around the sleeping fragrance from the ground, and lightly o'er the living scene scatters his freshest, tenderest green. New-born flocks, in rustic dance, frisking ply their feeble feet; forgetful of their wintry trance the birds his presence greet : but chief, the skylark warbles high his trembling thrilling ecstacy: and, lessening from the dazzled sight, melts into air and liquid light. Yesterday the sullen year saw the snowy whirlwind fly ; mute was the music of the air, the herd stood drooping by: their raptures now that wildly flow no yesterday nor morrow know ; 'tis Man alone that joy descries with forward and reverted eyes. 08? Smiles on past Misfortune's brow soft Reflection's hand can trace, and o'er the cheek of Sorrow throw a melancholy grace ; w4iile Hope prolongs our happier hour, or deepest shades, that dimly lour and blacken round our weary way, gilds with a gleam of distant day. Still, where rosy Pleasure leads, see a kindred Grief pursue ; behind the steps that Misery treads approaching Comfort view : the hues of bliss more brightly glow- chastised by sabler tints of woe, and blended form, with artful strife, the strength and harmony of life. See the wretch that long has tost on the thorny bed of pam, at length repair his vigour lost and breathe and walk again: ijito Latin Lyric Verse 179 the meanest floweret of the vale, the simplest note that swells the gale, the common sun, the air, the skies, to him are opening Paradise. T. CRAY 584 TIME BREEDETH CHAXCE IN time we see the silver drops the craggy stones make soft; the slowest snail in time we see doth creep and climb aloft. With feeble puffs the tallest pine in tract of time doth fall ; the hardest heart in time doth yield to Venus' luring call. Where chilling frost alate did nip, there flasheth now a fire ; where deep disdain bred noisome hate, there kindleth now desire. Time causeth hope to have his hap ; what care in time's not eased? in time I loathed that now I love in both content and pleased. 385 PEACE SLEUP, Ambition! Rage, expire! \^engeance, fold thy wing of fire ! close thy dark and lurid eye, bid thy torch, forsaken, die ; furl thy banner, waving proud, dreadful as the thunder-cloud; shall destrucflion blast the plain? shall the falchion rage again? shall the sword thy bands dissever? never, sweet Affcd:ion! never! As the halcyon o'er the ocean lulls the billow's wild commotion, so we bid dissension cease. Bloom, O amaranth of peace! twine the spear with vernal roses ; now the reign of discord closes; goddess of th' unconquerd isles, P'reedom ! triumph in our smiles. R. GREENE l8o Passages for Translation Blooming youth, and wisdom hoar}% bards of fame, and sons of glory ; Albion ! pillar of the main, monarchs, nations, join the strain ; swell to heaven the exulting voice ; mortals, triumph! earth, rejoice. 386 THE FALCON ON THE WARRIOR'S WRIST THE Falcon is a noble bird, and when his heart of hearts is stirred, he'll seek the eagle, though he run into his chamber near the sun. Ne'er was there brute or bird, whom the woods or mountains heard, that could force a fear or care from him, — the Arab of the air! To-day he sits upon a wrist whose purple veins a queen has kissed, and on him falls a sterner eye than he can face where'er he fly, though he scale the summit cold of the Grimsel, vast and old, — • though he search yon sunless stream, that threads the forest like a dream. Ah ! noble Soldier ! noble Bird ! will your name be ever heard, — ever seen in future story, crowning it with deathless glor}-? Peace, ho! — the master's eye is drawn away unto the bursting dawn! arise, thou bird of birds, arise, and seek thy quarry in the skies! B. W. PROCTER 387 INDEPENDENCE WHOSE calm soul in a settled state kicks under foot the frowns of Fate, and in his fortunes bad or good keeps the same temper in his blood, not him the flaming clouds above, nor /Etna's fiery tempests move, into Latin Lyric Verse i8i no fretting seas from shore to shore boihng with indignation o'er, nor burning thunderbolt that can a mountain shake, can stir this man. Dull cowards, then, why should we start to see these tyrants atl: their part? nor hope nor fear what may befall, and you disarm their malice all. But who doth faintly fear or wish, and sets no law to what is his, hath lost the buckler, and, poor elf! makes up a chain to bind himself. H. VAUGHAN 388 QVID SIT FVTVRVM CRAS FVGE QVMRERE SEES not my friend, what a deep snow candies our country's woody brow? the yielding branch his load scarce bears opprest with snow and frozen tears, while the dumb rivers slowly float all bound up in an icy coat. Let us meet then! and while this world in wild eccentrics now is hurled, keep we, like nature, the same key, and wal'- in our forefathers' way; why any more cast we an eye on what may come, not what is nigh ? why vex ourselves with fear or hope, and cares beyond our horoscope ? Sorrows and sighs and searches spend and draw our bottom to an end, but discreet joys lengthen the lease without which life were a disease, and who this age a mourner goes does with his tears but feed his foes. H. VAUGHAN 389 THE ECSTACY I LEAVE mortality's low sphere: ye winds and clouds, come lift me high, and on your airy pinions bear swift through the regions of the sky. 1 82 Passages for Translation What lofty mountains downward fly! and lo, how wide a space of air extends new prospefts to my eye! the gilded fanes, reflecfling light, and royal palaces, as bright, (the rich abodes of heavenly and of earthly gods) retire apace ; whole cities too decrease beneath my rising view. And now far off the rolling globe appears ; its scatter'd nations I survey, and all the mass of earth and sea; O objedl; well-deserving tears! capricious state of things below, that changeful from their birth no fix'd duration know ! OQO Here new-built towns, aspiring high, ascend with lofty turrets crown'd ; there others fall, and mouldering lie, obscure, or only by their ruins found. Here peace would all its joys dispense, the vines and olives unmolested grow, but lo ! a purple pestilence unpeoples cities, sweeps the plains, whilst vainly through deserted fields her unreap'd harvests Ceres yields, and at the noon of day a midnight silence reigns. There milder heat the healthful climate warms, but slaves to arbitrary power, and pleas'd each other to devour, the mad possessors rush to arms, I see, I see them from afar, I view distincfl the mingled war ! I see the charging squadrons prest hand to hand, and breast to breast. Destruction, like a vulture, hovers nigh ; lur'd with the hope of human blood, she hangs upon the wing, uncertain where to fl)', but licks her drowthy jaws, and waits the promised food. J. HUGHES into Latin Lyric l^crse 183 391 THE PRAISE OF A RELIGIOUS LITE IN the calm spring, when the earth bears, and feeds on April's breath and tears, his eyes accustomed to the skies find here fresh objeds and like spies or busy bees search the soft flowers, contemplate the green fields and bowers; he sadly sighing says, 'O how these flowers with hasty stretched heads grow, and strive for heaven, but rooted here lament the distance with a tear! The honeysuckles clad in white, the rose in red, point to the light, and the lilies hollow and bleak look, as if they would something speak, they sigh at night to each soft gale, and at the day-spring weep it all. Shall I then only, wretched I ! opprest with earth, on earth still lie?' Thus speaks he to the neighbouring trees, and many sad soHloquies to springs and fountains doth impart, seeking God with a longing heart. 092 Then feasted, to the flowery groves or pleasant rivers he removes, where near some fair oak hung with mast he shuns the south's infedious blast : on shady banks sometimes he lies, sometimes the open current tries, where with his line and feathered fly he sports and takes the scaly fry. Meanwhile each hollow wood and hill * doth ring with lowings long and shrill, and shady lakes with rivers deep echo the bleating of the sheep : the blackbird with the pleasant thrush and nightingale in every bush choice music give and shepherds play unto their flocks some loving lay; the thirsty reapers in thick throngs return home from the field with songs, ^^4 Passages for Traitslation and the carts laden with ripe corn come groaning to the well-stored barn. H. VAUGHAN 393 NOX NOCTI INDICAT SCIENTIAM WHEN I survay the bright coelestiall spheare, so rich with jewels hung, that night doth like an yEthiop bride appeare; my soule her wings doth spread, and heaven-ward flies, the Almighty's Mysteries to read in the large volmnes of the skies. For the bright firmament shootes forth no flame so silent, but is eloquent in speaking the Creator's name. No unregarded star contraCls its light into so small a charatflcr romov'd far from our humane sight: but if we stedfast looke, we shall discerne in it as in some holy booke, how man may heavenly knowledge leame. 394 It tells the conqueror, that farre-stretcht poA\Te, which his proud dangers traffique for, is but the triumph of an houre: that from the farthest North * some nation may yet undiscovered issue forth, and ore his new-got conquest sway: some nation yet shut in with hils of ice may be let out to scourge his sinne till they shall equall him in vice: into Latin Lyric Verse 185 and then they Hkewise shall their ruine have ; for as your selves your empires fall, and every kingdome hath a grave. Thus those coelestiall fires, though seeming mute, the fallacie of our desires and all the pride of life confute. For they have watcht since first the world had birth ; and found sinne in itselfe accurst, and nothing permanent on earth. W. HABINGTON 395 THE CHRISTIAN SOLDIER SERVANT of God ! well done ; rest from thy loved employ ; the battle fought, the victory won, enter thy Master's joy.' — The voice at midnight came; he started up to hear: a mortal arrow pierced his frame, he fell, — but felt no fear. Tranquil amidst alarms, it found him in the field, a veteran slumbering on his arms, beneath his red-cross shield : his sword was in his hand, still warm with recent fight, ready that moment, at command, through rock and steel to smite. •'o' It was a two-edged blade, of heavenly temper keen ; and double were the wounds it made, where'er it smote between : 'twas death to sin ; — 'twas life to all that mourn'd for sin ; it kindled and it silenced strife, made war and peace within. I S5 Passages for Translation 2C/6 Oft, with its fiery force, his arm had quelled the foe, and laid, resistless in its course, the alien-armies low. Bent on such glorious toils, the world to him was loss ; yet all his trophies, all his spoils, he hung upon the cross. At midnight came the cry, 'To meet thy God, prepare!' He woke, and caught his Captain's eye; then, strong in faith and prayer, his spirit, with a bound, burst its encumbering clay: his tent at sunrise, on the ground, a darkened ruin lay. The pains of death are past, labour and sorrow cease, and, life's long warfare closed at last, his soul is found in peace. Soldier of Christ! well done; praise be thy new employ: and while eternal ages run, rest in thy Saviour's joy. J. MONTGOMERY 397 ODE ON THE SPRING LO ! where the rosy-bosom'd Hours ■^ fair Venus' train, appear, disclose the long-expeos deXiov xrjpwaeu auyas- TOLyap acitSip.os Ipyoi?, tt^avaroV re /ttv aw^^T/crovo-t Moraat Mm/Aoo-Jvas Ovyarpe?, Atos ^evtou at/Sas uu^ovo-at 7Top c;)(Oicra' (j)o^(^ 8 ou Ke)^€t[xavTaL ^peVe?. 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EVRiriDES 421 70 JV^'^ MORNING SONG Ap/xara [xev raSc Xafnrpa TiOpiTnrwv ■>]Xi.o£ ^i/A'C i?K CAPTIVE TROJAN IVOMEX O.V THEIR WAY TO HELLAS 'Eyw 8e irXoKap-ov avaSeVots fjitTpaicriv ippv$ixLt,oiJi.av )(^pvaewv ivoTTTpwv Aei/crcrovcr arep/xovas cts auyas, C7rtS€p,vtos OJS Trecroifx cs cvvai/. ava Se Ke'XaSos e'/xoXc TroXti'' KeXeva-fxa o 7]v Kar acrri; ipotas too • w 7rat8€S 'EXXavojv vroVe 8?; tto'tc Tttv 'IXtaSa cTKOTTtav Trepo-avTts t^^ct oikovj; Xe^T^ 8e ^tXta /xovoTreTrXos XtTTOiJo-a, Awpts OJS X°'P"'> 204 Passages for Translatio:t o-cfivai/ ■7rpoa-it,ov(T ovK r/vva Apre/xtv a rXa/Acov ayofxai oe uavovT Loovcr UKOiTav Tov Ijxov akiov iirl TreAayo?, ttoXlv t aTToaKOTTOvcr , cTret voaTi/JiOV i/aus iKLV7]a-€V TroSa Kai /a' aTro yas toptcrev lAiaSos, raXatv', aTretTrov aXyei, rav TOLV ALocTKopoLV 'EXeVav Kaatv 'iSato'v T€ /Bovrav aivoTrapiv Karapa SiSovcr', CTret /xe yas CK Trarpwas aTTwXecrej/ ii^^wKLaiv T oIkmv ya/xos, ov ya/xos, aA.A' uAacTTopos dv p,>;Te TreXayos aXiov diraydyot ttolXlv, fJ.'fJTe Trarpwov lkolt es oTkov. EVRIPIDES 424 TB£ JUDGMENT OF PARIS AND ITS DISASTROUS CONSEQ UENCES Tai 8 £7rei v\oko\x.ov vairo'i yjXvOov, ovp^idv TTtSaKwi/ viif/av atyXavTtt aM/xar iv pool';- ej3av 8e Tlpia/u^av virep- ^oAais Xoywv Bvacjipovwv Trapaj^aXXofievaL. KuTrpis eiAe Aoyotcrt SoAtois, TcpTTVOts /Aev aKOTJcrat, TTLKpav ok crvy^vcnv J3lov ^pvywv ttoAci, raXaiva. 7r€pyap,ot9 T€ Tpotas. ei'^e 8' iJTrep K€(jiaXds efiaXev KaKov a TeKova-d viv fiopov irpXv l8arov KarotKicrat AcTra?, 0T6 viv irapd OecnreaLiD 8d^7^ T €pi7/U, av ovTroT e^^eAeiTreTo, Kat T£K€(jL)i/ op(f)avoL yepovTCS. EVRTPIDES 425 r//£ £0r£ CiJ" G(9Z> SUPREME Tt' yap aXxa, rt 8e xaXXo?, Tt oe )(pv(TO<;, Tt oe 28 Passages for Tra7islatio7t o ^.^7 HOHENLINDEN ^N Linden, when the sun was low, all bloodless lay th' untrodden snow; and dark as winter was the flow of Iser, rolling rapidly. But Linden saw another sight, when the drum beat at dead of night commanding fires of death to light the darkness of her scenery. By torch and trumpet fast arrayed each horseman drew his battle-blade, and furious every charger neigh'd to join the dreadful revelry. Then shook the hills with thunder riven; then rush'd the steed, to battle driven; and louder than the bolts of Heaven far flashed the red artillery. Buv redder yet that light shall glow on Linden's hills of stained snow, and bloodier yet the torrent flow of Iser, rolling rapidly. 'Tis morn; but scarce yon level sun can pierce the war-clouds, rolling dun, where furious Frank and fiery Hun shout in their sulph'rous canopy. The combat deepens. On, ye Brave, who rush to glory, or the grave! Wave, Munich, all thy banners wave, and charge with all thy chivalry! Few, few shall part> where many meet! the snow shall be their winding-sheet, and every turf beneath their feet shall be a soldier's sepulchre. T. CAMPBELL 4^8 ODE TO WINTER OSIRE of stonns! whose savage ear the Lapland drum delights to hear, when Frenzy with her bloodshot eye implores thy dreadful deity — into Lati7i Lyric Verse 229 archangel! Power of desolation! fast descending as thou art, say, hath mortal invocation spells to touch thy stony heart: then, sullen Winter! hear my prayer, and gently rule the ruin'd year ; nor chill the wanderer's bosom bare nor freeze the wretch's falling tear: to shuddering Want's unmantled bed thy horror-breathing agues cease to lend, and gently on the orphan head of Innocence descend. But chiefly spare, O king of clouds: the sailor on his airy shrouds, when wrecks and beacons strev the steep and speclres walk along the deep. Milder yet thy snowy breezes pour on yonder tented shores where the Rhine's broad billow freezes, or the dark-brown Danube roars. O winds of Winter! list ye there to many a deep and dying groan ? Or start, ye demons of the midnight air, at shrieks and thunders louder than your own ? Alas ! e'en your unhallow'd breath may spare the victim fallen low ; but Man will ask no truce to death, no bounds to human woe. T. CAMPBELL 459 THE CONSTITUTION OF A STATE WHAT constitutes a state? not high-raised battlement or laboured mound, thick wall or moated gate : not cities proud, with spires and turrets crowned : not bays and broad- armed ports, where, laughing at the storm, rich navies ride: not starred and spangled courts, where low-bred baseness wafts perfume to pride. No: men, high-minded men, with powers as far above dull brutes endued, in forest, brake, or den, as beasts excel cold roeks and brambles rude : 230 Passages for Translation men who their duties know, but know their rights ; and knowing dare maintain, prevent the long-aim'd blow, and crush the tyrant while they rend the chain. These constitute a state, and sovereign Law, that state's colledled will, o'er thrones and globes elate sits empress, crowning good, repressing ill; smit by her sacred frown, the fiend Discretion like a vapour sinks, and e'en the all-dazzling crown hides his faint rays and at her bidding shrinks. Such was this heaven-loved isle, than Lesbos fairer, and the Cretan shore ! no more shall Freedom smile ? shall Britons languish, and be men no more ? Since all must life resign, those sweet rewards, which decorate the brave, 'tis folly to decline, and steal inglorious to a silent grave. SIR W, JONES 460 SOXG SWEETEST love, I do not go for weariness of thee, nor in hope the world can show a fitter love for me ; but, since that I at the last must part, 'tis best thus to use myself in jest by feigned deaths to die. Yesternight the sun went hence and yet is here to-day ; he hath no desire nor sense nor half so short a way : then fear not me, but believe that I shall make speedier journeys, since I take more wings and spurs than he. O how feeble is man's power, that, if good fortune fall, cannot add another hour nor a lost hour recall ! into Latin Lyric Versi 231 But come bad chance, and we join to it our strength, and we teach it art and length itself or us t' advance. Let not thy divining heart forethink me any ill ; destiny may take thy part and may thy fears fulfil ; but think that we are but turned aside to sleep; they who one another keep alive ne'er parted be. 46 1 WINTER J. DONXE THEN let the chill Scirocco blow, and gird us round with hills of snow; or else go whistle to the shore, and make the hollow mountains roar. Whilst we together jovial sit careless, and crowned with mirth and wit, where, though bleak winds confine us home, our fancies round the world shall roam. We'll think of all the friends we know, and drink to all worth drinking to ; when, having drunk all thine and mine, we rather shall want healths than wine. But where friends fail us, we'll supply our friendship with our charity ; men that remote in sorrows live shall by our lusty brimmers thrive. We'll drink the wanting into wealth, and those that languish into health, th' afflicted into joy, th' opprest into security and rest. The worthy in disgrace shall find favour return again more kind, and in restraint who stifled lie shall taste the air of liberty. 232 Passages for Translation The brave shall triumph in success, the lovers shall have mistresses, poor unregarded virtue praise, and the neglecfled poet bays. Thus shall our healths do others good, whilst we ourselves do all we would, for, freed from envy and from care, what would we be, but what we are ? C. COTTON H 462 THE GOLDEN AGE APPY that first white age ! when we lived by the earth's mere charity ; no soft luxurious diet then had effeminated men ; no other meat nor wine had any, than the coarse mast, or simple honey ; and by the parents' care laid up che?p berries did the children sup. No pompous wear was in those days of gummy silks or scarlet baise, their beds were on some flow'ry brink, and clear spring water was their drink. The shady pine in the sun's heat was their cool and known retreat, for then 'twas not cut down, but stood the youth and glory of the wood. The daring sailor with his slaves then had not cut the swelling waves, nor for desire of foreign store seen any but his native shore. No stirring drum had scar'd that age, nor the shrill trumpet's acftive rage ; no wounds by bitter hatred made with warm blood soil'd the shining blade ; for how could hostile madness arm an age of love to public harm \ when common justice none withstood, nor sought rewards for spilling blood. O that at length our age would raise into the temper of those days ! But (worse than ^Etna's fires !) debate and avarice inflame our state. into Latin Lyric Verse 233 Alas, who was it that first found gold hid of purpose under ground ; that sought out pearls and div'd to find such precious perils for mankind? H. VAUGHAX 4^3 ULYSSES AND THE SIREN SIREN COME, worthy Greeke, Ulysses, come, possesse these shores with me, the windes and seas are troublesome, and here we may be free. Here we may sit and view their toyle that travaile in the deepe, enjoye the day in mirth the while, and spend the night in sleepe. UL YSSES Faire nymph, if fame or honour were to be attained with ease, then would I come and rest with thee, and leave such toiles as these : but here it dwels, and here must I with danger seeke it forth ; to spend the time luxuriously becomes not men of worth, SIREN Ulysses, O be not deceived with that unreall name, this honour is a thing conceived and rests on others' fame : begotten only to molest our peace, and to beguile (the best thing of our life) our rest and give us up to toyle. UL YSSES Delicious nymph, suppose there were nor honour nor report, yet manlinesse would scorne to weare the time in idle sport : 234 Passages for Translation for toyle doth give a better touch to make us feele our joy ; and ease finds tediousness, as much as labour yeelds annoy. S. DANIEL 464 EVENING SONG OF THE PRIEST OF PAN SHEPHERDS all, and maidens fair, fold your flocks up, for the air 'gins to thicken, and the sun already his great course hath run. See the dew-drops how they kiss ev'ry little flower that is, hanging on their velvet heads, like a rope of crystal beads : see the heavy clouds low falling, and bright Hesperus down calling the dead night from under ground ; at whose rising mists unsound, damps and vapours fly apace, hovering o'er the wanton face of these pastures, where they come, striking dead both bud and bloom. Therefore from such danger lock ev'ry one his lov6d flock ; and let your dogs lie loose without, lest the wolf come as a scout from the mountain, and ere day bear a lamb or kid away ; or the crafty thievish fox break upon your simple flocks. To secure yourselves from these, be not too secure in ease ; let one eye his watches keep, whilst the t'other eye doth sleep ; so you shall good shepherds prove, and for ever hold the love of our great god. Sweetest slumbers and soft silence fall in numbers on your eye-lids ! so, farewell ! Thus 1 end my evening's knell. J. FLETCHER H ■ into Latin Lyric Verse 235 465 THE FIRST OF MAY AIL! sacred thou to hallowed joy, to mirth and wine, sweet First of May! to sports, which no grave cares alloy, the sprightly dance, the festive play! Hail! thou, of ever circling time that gracest still the ceaseless flow! bright blossom of the season's prime, aye hastening on to winter's snow ! When first young Spring his angel face on earth unveiled and years of gold gilt with pure ray man's guileless race, by law's stern terrors uncont'"olled ; such was the soft and genial breeze mild Zephyr breathed on all around; with graceful glee to airs like these yielded its wealth the unlaboured ground. So fresh — so fragrant is the gale which o'er the islands of the blest sweeps ; where nor aches the limbs assail nor age's peevish pains infest. Where thy hushed groves, Elysium, sleep, such winds with whispered murmurs blow; so, where dull Lethe's waters creep, they heave, scarce heave the cypress bough. And such, when heaven with penal flame shall purge the globe, that golden day restoring, o'er man's brightened frame haply such gale again shall play. Hail thou, the fleet year's pride and prime, hail ! day, which fame should bid to bloom ! hail, image of primeval time ! hail, sample of a world to come! F. WRANGHAM 466 TO-MORROW IN the downhill of life, when I find I'm declining, may my lot no less fortunate be than a snug elbow-chair can afford for reclining, and a cot that o'erlooks the wide sea ; 236 Passages for Translation with an ambling pad-pony to pace o'er the lawn, while I carol away idle sorrow, and blithe as the lark that each day hails the dawn look forward with hope for to-morrow. With a porch at my door, both for shelter and shade too, as the sun-shine or rain may prevail; and a small spot of ground for the use of the spade too, with a barn for the use of the flail: a cow for my dairy, a dog for my game, and a puise when a friend wants to borrow; I'll envy no nabob his riches or fame, nor what honours await him to-morrow. From the bleak northern blast may my cot be com- pletely secured by a neighbouring hill; and at night may repose steal upon me more sweetly by the sound of a murmuring rill: and while peace and plenty I find at my board, with a heart free from sickness and sorrow, with my friends may I share what to-day may afibrd, and let them spread the table to-morrow. And when I at last must throw off this frail covering which I 've worn for three-score years and ten, on the brink of the grave I'll not seek to keep ho- vering, nor my thread wish to spin o'er again: but my face in the glass I'll serenely survey, and with smiles count each wrinkle and furrow; as this old worn-out stuff, which is thread-bare to-day, may become everlasting to-morrow. COLLINS 467 HYMN TO ADVERSITY DAUGHTER of Jove, relentless power, thou tamer of the human breast, whose iron scourge and torturing hour the bad affright, afflidl the best! Bound in thy adamantine chain the proud are taught to taste of pain, and purple tyrants vainly groan with pangs unfelt before, unpitied and alone. into Latin Lyric Verse 237 When first thy Sire to send on earth Virtue, his darling child, design'd, to thee he gave the heav'nly birth, and bade to form her infant mind. Stern rugged nurse ! thy rigid lore with patience many a year she bore ; what sorrow was thou bad'st her know, and from her own she learn'd to melt at others' woe. O gently on thy suppliant's head, dread Goddess, lay thy chastening hand, not in thy Gorgon terrors clad, not circled with the vengeful band (as by the impious thou art seen) with thundering voice and threatening mien, with screaming Horror's funeial cry. Despair, and fell Disease, and ghastly Poverty ;, Thy form benign, O Goddess, wear, thy milder influence impart, thy philosophic train be there to soften, not to wound my heart. The generous spark extincfl revive, teach me to love and to forgive, exa6l my own defefts to scan, what others are to feel, and know myself a Man. T. GRAY 468 TRUE HAPPINESS HE who is good is happy. Let the loud artillery of heaven break through a cloud, and dart its thunder at him, he'll remain unmoved, and nobler comfort entertain in welcoming the approach of death, than vice ere found in her ficflitious Paradise. Time mocks our youth and (while we number past delights and raise our appetite to taste ensuing) brings us to unflattered age: where we are left to satisfy the rage of threatening death ; pomp, beauty, wealth, and all our friendships, shrinking from the funeral. The thought of this begets that brave disdain with which thou view'st the world, and makes those vain 228 Passages for Translation treasures of fancy serious fools so court and sweat to purchase thy contempt or sport. What should we covet here? why interpose a cloud 'twixt us and heaven? Kind nature chose man's soul the Exchequer where she'd hoard her wealth, and lodge all her rich secrets ; but by the stealth of our own vanity, we are left so poor, the creature merely sensual knows more. The learned halcyon by her wisdom finds a gentle season, when the seas and winds are silenrcd by a calm, and then brings forth the happy miracle of her rare birth, leaving with wonder all our arts possest, that view the architefture of her nest. Pride raiseth us 'bove justice. We bestow increase of knowledge on old minds, which grow by age to dotage : while the sensitive part of the world in its first strength doth live. W, HABINGTON 469 THE SATVR-S LEAVE-TAKING Satyr 'T^HOU divinest, fairest, brightest, X thou most powerful maid and whitest, thou most virtuous and most blessed, eyes of stars, and golden-tressed like Apollo; tell me, sweetest, what new service now is meetest for the Satyr? Shall I stray in the middle air, and stay the sailing rack, or nimbly take hold by the moon, and gently make suit to the pale queen of night for a beam to give thee light? Shall I dive into the sea, and bring thee coral, making way through the rising waves that fall in snowy fleeces? Dearest, shall I catch thee wanton fawns, or flies whose woven wings the summer dyes into Latin Lyric Verse 239 of many colours? get thee fruit, or steal from heaven old Orpheus' lute? all these I'll venture for, and more, to do her service all these woods adore. Holy Virgin, I will dance round about these woods as quick as the breaking light, and prick down the lawns and down the vales faster than the windmill-sails. So I take my leave and pray all the comforts of the day, such as Phoebus' heat doth send on the earth, may still befriend thee and this arbour ! Clorin And to thee all thy master's love be free ! J. FLETCHER 470 TO SOLITUDE HAIL, old patrician trees, so great and good! Hail, ye plebeian underwood, where the poetic birds rejoice, and for their quiet nests and plenteous food pay with their grateful voice. Here Nature does a house for me erecft, Nature, the fairest architect, who those fond artists does despise that can the fair and living trees negledl, yet the dead timber prize. Here let me, careless and unthoughtful lying, hear the soft winds above me flying with all their wanton boughs dispute, and the more tuneful birds to both replying, nor be myself too mute. A silver stream shall roll his waters near, gilt with sun-beams here and there, on whose enamelled bank I'll walk, and see how prettily they smile, and hear how prettily they talk. w 240 Passages for Translation Ah ! wretched and too solitary he, who loves not his own company! He'll feel the weight oft many a day, unless he calls in sin or vanity to help to bear't away. O solitude, first state of humankind, thou break'st and tam'st th' unruly mind, which else would know no settled pace, making it move, well managed by thy art, with swiftness and with grace. Thou the faint beams of reason's scatter'd light dost like a burning glass unite, dost multiply the feeble heat, and fortify the strength, till thou dost bright and noble fires beget. A. COWLEY 471 ODE TO LIBERTY HO shall awake the Spartan fife, and call in solemn sounds to life, the youths, whose locks divinely spreading, hke vernal hyacinths in sullen hue, at once the breath of Fear and Virtue shedding, applauding Freedom loved of old to view? What new Alcasus, fancy-blest, shall sing the sword, in myrtles drest, at Wisdom's shrine awhile its flame concealing, (what place so fit to seal a deed renowned?) till she her brightest lightnings round revealing, it leap'd in glory forth, and dealt her prompted wound? O goddess, in that feeling hour, when most its sounds would court thy ears, let not my shell's misguided power e'er draw thy sad, thy mindful tears. No, Freedom, no! I will not tell, how Rome, before thy weepmg face with heaviest sound a giant-statue fell, push'd by a wild and artless race from oft" its wide ambitious base, when Time his northern sons of spoil awoke, and all the blended work of strength and grace with many a rude repeated stroke and many a barbarous yell to thousand fragments broke. \V. COLLINS into Latin Lyric Verse 241 ."I \7'ET, even whene'er the least appeared, J- the admiring world thy hand rev-ered ; still 'midst the scattered states around, some remnants of her strength were found ; they saw, by what escaped the storm, how wondrous rose her perfect form ; how in the great, the laboured whole, each mighty master poured his soul! for sunny Florence, seat of art, beneath her vines preserved a part, till they, whom Science loved to name, (O who could fear it?) quenched her flame. And lo an humbler relic laid in jealous Pisa's olive shade! see small Marino joins the theme though least, not last in thy esteem: strike, louder strike the ennobling strings to those, whose merchant sons were kings; to him, who decked with pearly pride in Adria weds his green-haired bride; hail, port of glory, wealth and pleasure, ne'er let me change this Lydian measure : nor e'er her fornier pride relate, to sad Liguria's bleeding state. Ah no! more pleased thy haunts I seek, on wild Helvetia's mountains bleak: (where, when the favoured of thy choice the daring archer heard thy voice, forth from his eyrie roused in dread the ravening eagle northward fled:) or dwell in willowed meads more near, with those to whom thy stork is dear: those whom the rod of Alva bruised, whose crown a British queen refused! the magic works, thou feel'st the strains, one holier name alone remains: the perfect spell shall then avail, hail nymph, adored by Britain, hail! 473 Beyond the measure vast of thought, the work the wizard Time has wrought! the Gaul, 'tis held of antique story, saw Britain linked to his now adverse strand, F. S. II. ^6 242 Passages for Translntio^t no sea between, nor cliff sublime and hoary, he passed with unwet feet through all our land. To the blown Baltic then, they say, the wild waves found another way, where Orcas howls, his wolfish mountains rounding : till all the banded west at once 'gan rise, a wide wild storm even nature's self confounding, withering her giant sons with strange uncouth surprise. This pillared earth so firm and wide, by winds and inward labours torn, in thunders dread was pushed aside, and down the shouldering billows borne. And see, like gems, her laughing train, the little isles on every side, Mona, once hid from those who search the main, where thousand elfin shapes abide, and Wight, who checks the western tide, for thee consenting Heaven has each bestowed, a fair attendant on her sovereign pride: to thee this blest divorce she owed, for thou hast made her vales thy loved, thy last abode ! \V. COLI.IN.S 474 THE EXPOSTULATION- IN doubtful twilight Nature sleeps within this silent grove : love only his pale vigil keeps, and I, the slave of love. Ah ! cruel Julia, dare you brave the sea's engulfing tide? Torn from me by the tossing wave, shall winds my hopes deride? So your fond lover can you cheat, to all your vows untrue? Yet dread th' avenging wind's deceit- know, seas are fickle too. F. WRANGHAM 475 into Latin Lyric Verse. 243 CHRISTIAN WARFARE SOLDIER, go— but not to claim mouldering spoils of earth-born treasure, not to build a vaunting name; not to dwell in tents of pleasure ; dream not that the way is smooth, hope not that the thorns are roses; turn no wishful eye of youth where the sunny beam reposes: thou hast sterner work to do, hosts to cut thy passage through ; close behind thee gulfs are burning- forward! — there is no returning. Soldier, rest— but not for thee spreads the world her downy pillow ; on the rock thy couch must be, while around thee chafes the billow: thine must be a watchful sleep, wearier than another's waking; such a charge as thou dost keep brooks no moment of forsaking. Sleep, as on the battle-field, girded, grasping sword and shield: those thou canst not name or number steal upon thy broken slumber. Soldier, rise — the war is done: lo, the hosts of hell are flying ; 'twas thy Lord the battle won; Jesus vanquished them by dying. Pass the stream — before thee lies all the conquered land of glory; hark what songs of rapture rise ; these proclaim the victor's story; soldier, lay thy weapons down, quit the sword, and take the crown; triumph! all thy foes are banished, death is slain, and earth has vanished. C. F.IJZAP.F.TH 16—2 244 Passages for Trcmslatio7i 476 TO DEATH THEN, Death, why should'st thou dreaded be and shunn'd as some great misery, that cur'st our woes and strife? only because we're ill resolved, and in dark error's clouds involved, think Death the end of Life; which most unfue, each place we view, p-ives testimonies rife. o' The flowers that we behold each year in chequer 'd meads their heads to rear, new rising from their tomb ; the eglantines and honey-daisies, and all those pretty smiling faces, that still in age grow young ; even these do cry that though men die, yet life from death may come. The towering cedars tall and strong on Taurus and Mount Lebanon in time they all decay ; yet from their old and wasted roots at length again grow up young shoots, that are as fresh and gay; then why should we thus fear to die, ■whose death brings hfe for aye? The seed that in the earth we throw doth putrify before it grow, corrupting in its urn ; but at the spring it flourisheth, when Phoebus only cherisheth with life at his return. Doth Time's Sun this? Then sure it is Time's Lord can more perform. J. HAGTHORPE hito Latin Lyric Verse 245 477 O.V MAN'S MORTALITY THE World's a bubble, and the life of Alan less than a span ; — in his conception wretched, from the womb, so to the tomb ; — curst from his cradle, and brought up to years with cares and fears. Who then to frail mortality shall trust but limns on water, or but writes in dust. Yet whilst with sorrow here we live opprest, what life is best? Courts are but only superficial schools to dandle fools : the rural parts are turned into a den of savage men : and where 's a city from foul vice so free, but may be termed the worst of all the three/ Domestic cares afifiicl. the husband's bed, or pain his liead: those that live single, take it for a curse, or do things worse: these would have Children: — those that have them, moan or wish them gone : what is it, then, to have or have no wife, but single thraldom, or a double strife? Our own affections still at home to please is a disease : to cross the seas to any foreign soil, peril and toil: wars with their noise affright us; when they cease, we are worse in peace ; what then remains, but that we still should cry for being born, or, being born, to die? FRANCIS LORD BACON 478 THE NYMPH COMPLAINING FOR THE DEATH OF HER FA UN THE wanton troopers riding by have shot my faun and it will dye. 246 Passages for Translation Ungentle men ! They cannot thrive to kill thee. Thou neer didst alive them any harm: alas nor cou'd thy death yet do them any good, * * * * It is a wond'rous thing, how fleet 'twas on those little silver feet : ■with what a pretty skipping grace it oft would challenge me the race; and when 't had left me far away, 'twould stay, and run again, and stay : for it was nimbler much than hindes ; and trod, as on the four winds. O help! O help! I see it faint! and dye as calmely as a saint; see how it weeps. The tears do come sad, slowly dropping like a gumme. So weeps the wounded balsome; so the holy frankincense doth flow; the brotherless Heliades melt in such amber tears as these, I in a golden vial will keep these two crystal tears ; and fill it till it do o'erflow with mine; then place it in Diana's shrine. Now my sweet faun is vanish'd to whither the swans and turtles go; in fair Elysium to endure with milk-white lambs and ermins pure. O do not run too fast, for I ■will but bespeak thy grave, and dye." A. MARVEL L 4^9 FAITH IN THE UNSEEN THERE are who, darkling and alone, would wish the weary night were gone, though dawning morn should only show the secret of their unknown woe; who pray for sharpest throbs of pain to ease them of doubt's galling chain: "only disperse the cloud," they cry, "and if our fate be death, give light and let us die." into Latin Lyric Verse 247 Unwise I deem them, Lord, unmeet to profit by Thy chastenings sweet, for Thou wouldst have us hnger still upon the verge of good or ill, that on Thy guiding hand unseen our undivided hearts may lean, and thus our frail and foundering bark glide in the narrow wake of Thy beloved ark. 'Tis so in war — the champion true loves vicftory more when dim in view he sees her glories gild afar the dusty edge of stubborn war, than if the untrodden bloodless field the harvest of her laurels yield ; let not my bark in calm abide, but win her fearless way against the chafing tide. J. KEBLE 480 TO THE NIGHT SWIFTLY walk over the western wave. Spirit of Night ! out of the misty eastern cave where all the long and lone daylight thou wovest dreams of joy and fear which make thee terrible and dear, — swift be thy flight ! Wrap thy form in a mantle gray star-inwrought ! Blind with thine hair the eyes of day, kiss her until she be wearied out, then wander o'er city, and sea, and land touching all with thine opiate wand — come, long-sought! When I arose and saw the dawn, I sigh'd for thee ; when light rode high, and the dew was gone, and noon lay heavy on flower and tree, and the weary Day turn'd to his rest lingering like an unloved guest, I sigh'd for thee. -48 Passages for Translation Thy brother Death came, and cried wouldst thou me? Thy sweet child Sleep, the filmy-eyed, murmur'd like a noon-tide bee shall I nestle near thy side? wouldst thou me? — And I replied, No, not thee! Death will come when thou art dead, • soon, too soon — ■ sleep will come when thou art fled; of neither would I ask the boon I ask of thee, beloved Night — swift be thine approaching flight, come soon, soon ! P. B. SHELLEY 4(^1 TO THE WEST WIND OWILD West wind, thou breath of Autumn's being, thou, from whose unseen presence the leaves dead are driven, like ghosts from an enchanter fleeing, yellow, and black, and pale, and hecflic red, pestilence-stricken multitudes: O thou, who charioted to their dark wintry bed the winged seeds, where they lie cold and low, each like a corpse within its grave, until thine azure sister of the Spring shall blow her clarion o'er the dreaming earth, and fill (driving sweet buds, like flocks, to feed in air) with living hues and odours, plain and hill: wild spirit, which art moving every where: destroyer and preserver; hear, oh hear! Make me thy lyre, even as the forest is : what if my leaves are falling like its own ! the tumult of thy mighty harmonies will take from both a deep autumnal tone, sweet though in sadness. Be thou, spirit fierce, my spirit! Be thou me, impetuous one! into Latin Lyric Verse 249 Drive my dead thoughts over the universe like withered leaves to quicken a new birth ; and, by the incantation of this verse, scatter, as from an unextinguished hearth cishes and sparks, my words among mankind ! be through my lips to unawakened earth the trumpet of a prophecy! O wind if Winter comes, can Spring be far behind ! P. B. SHELLFA' 482 TO THE RIVER BLYTH OTHOU, that prattling on thy pebbled way through my paternal vale dost stray, working thy shallow passage to the sea ; stream, thou speedest on the same as many seasons gone ; but not, alas ! to me remain the feelings that beguiled my early road, when careless and content (losing the hours in pastimes innocent) upon thy banks I strayed, a playful child ; whether the pebliles that thy margin strew collecfting heedlessly I threw ; or loved in thy translucent wave my tender shrinking feet to lave; or else insnared your little fry, and thought how wondrous skilled was I ! — So passed my boyish days, unknown to pain, days that will ne'er return again. It seems but yesterday 1 was a child — to-morrow to be grey ! So years succeeding years steal silently away. Not fleeter thy own current, hurrying thee, rolls down to the great sea. Thither O carry these sad thoughts — the deep bury them ; — thou meantime thy tenor keep, and winding through the green-wood cheer, as erst, my native peaceful pastures here. W. L. BOWLES 250 Passages for Translation 483 THE LORD YOUR GOD HATH GIVEN YOU THIS LAND TO POSSESS IT THERE is a land of pure delight where saints immortal reign ; infinite day excludes the night, and pleasures banish pain. There everlasting Spring abides, and never-withering tlowers ; death, like a narrow sea, divides this heavenly land from ours. Sweet fields beyond the swelling flood stand dressed in living green ; so to the Jews old Canaan stood, while Jordan rolled between. But timorous mortals start and shrink to cross this narrow sea, and linger shivering on the brink, and fear to launch away. O, could we make our doubts remove those gloomy doubts that rise, and see the Canaan that we love with unbeclouded eyes ! could we but climb where Moses stood and view the landscape o'er, not Jordan's stream, nor death's cold flood, should fright us from the shore. I. WATTS 484 ORPHEUS AND THE SIRENS THE bark divine, itself instinfl with life, went forth and baffled ocean's rudest shocks, escaping, though with pain and arduous strife, the huge encountering rocks ; and force and fraud o'ercome, and peril past, Its hard-won trophy raised in open view, through prosperous floods was bringing home at last its high heroic crew ; into Latin Lyric Verse 251 till now they cried (i^aea left behind, and the dead waters of the Cronian main), "no peril more upon our path we find, safe haven soon we gain." When, as they spake, sweet sounds upon the breeze came to them, melodies till now unknown, and blended into one dehght with these, sweet odours sweetly blown, — sweet odours wafted from the flowery isle, sweet music breathed by the Sirens three, who there lie wait, all passers to beguile, fair monsters of the sea! Fair monsters foul, that with their magic song and beauty to the shipnian wandering whose peril than disastrous whirlpools strong, or fierce sea-robbers bring. 485 Sometimes upon the diamond rocks they leant, sometimes they sat upon the flowery lea that sloped toward the wave, and ever sent shrill music o'er the sea. The winds, suspended by the charmed song, shed treacherous calm about that fatal isle ; the waves, as though the halcyon o'er its young were always brooding, smile; and every one that listens, presently forgetteth home and wife and children dear, all noble enterprise and purpose high, and turns his pinnace here. — ■ He cannot heed, — so sweet unto him seems to reap the harvest of the promised joy ; the wave-worn man of such secure rest dreams, so guiltless of annoy. — The heroes and the kings, the wise, the strong, that won the fleece with cunning and with might, their souls were taken in the net of song, snared in that false delight ; 252 Passages for Translation Till ever loathlier seemed all toil to be, and that small space they yet must travel o'er, stretched, an immeasurable breadth of sea, their faintin^r hearts before. 'o 486 " Let us turn hitherward our bark," they cried, " and, 'mid the blisses of this happy isle, past toil forgetting and to come, abide in joyfulnesb awhile ; " and then, refreshed, our tasks resume again, if other tasks we yet are bound unto, combing the hoary tresses of the main with sharp swift keel anew." O heroes, that had once a nobler aim, O heroes sprung from many a godlike line, what will ye do, unmindful of your fame, and of your race divine ? But they, by these prevailing voices now lured, evermore draw nearer to the land, nor saw the wrecks of many a goodly prow, that strewed that fatal strand ; or seeing, feared not — warning taking none from the plain doom of all who went before, whose bones lay bleaching in the wind and sun, and whitened all the shore. And some impel through foaming billows now the hissing keel, and some tumultuous stand upon the deck, or crowd about the prow, waiting to leap to land. And them this fatal lodestar of delight had drawn to ruin wholly, but for one of their own selves, who struck his lyre with might, Calliope's great son. 4<^7 Of holier joy he sang, more true delight, in other happier isles for them reserved, who, faithful here, from constancy and right and truth have never swerved; into Latin Lyric Verse How evermore the tempered ocean gales breathe round those hidden islands of the blest, steeped in the glory spread, when daylight fails, far in the sacred West ; how unto them, beyond our mortal night, shines evermore in strength the golden day ; and meadows with purpureal roses bright bloom round their feet alway; and how 'twas given thro' virtue to aspire to golden seats in ever-calm abodes ; of mortal men, admitted to the quire of high immortal Gods. -:j '£>* He says — a mighty melody divuie, that woke deep echoes in the heart of each — reminded whence they drew their royal line, and to what heights might reach. And all the while they listened, them the speed bore forward still of favouring wind and tide, that, when their ears were vacant to give heed to any sound beside, the feeble echoes of that other lay, which held awhile their senses thralled and bound, were in the distance fading c^uite away, a dull unheeded sound. R. C. TRENCH 488 TO A YOUNG LADY CURLING HER HAIR NO longer seek the needless aid of studious art, dear lovely Maid ! vainly from side to side, forbear to shift thy glass, and braid each straggling hair. As the gay flowers, which Nature yields spontaneous on the vernal fields, delight the fancy more than those which gardens trim arrange in equal rows ; as the pure rill, whose mazy train the prattling pebbles check in vain, 254 Passages for Translation gives native pleasure, while it leads its random waters, winding through the meads; as birds, the groves and streams among, in artless strains the vernal song warbling, their wood-notes wild repeat, and sooth tho ear, irregularly sweet ; so simple dress and native grace will best become thy lovely face! for naked Cupid still suspefls, in artml ornaments concealed defecfls. Cease then, with idly cruel care, to torture thus the flowing hair ; O ! cease with tasteless toil to shed a cloud of scented dust around thy head. Not Berenice's locks could boast a grace like thine ; among the host of stars, though radiant now they rise, and add new lustre to the spangled skies : nor Venus, when her charms divine improving in a form like thine she gave her tresses unconfined to play about her neck, and wanton in the wind. W. BUNCOMBE 489 THE STORM CEASE, rude Boreas, blust'ring railcr! list, ye landsmen, all to me! messmates, hear a brother sailor sing the dangers of the sea ; from bounding billows, fast in motion, when the distant whirlwinds rise, to the tempest-troubled ocean, where the seas contend with skies ! Hark ! the boatswain hoarsely bawling, by topsail-sheets and haul-yards stand ! down top-gallants quick be hauling; down your stay-sails, hand, boys, hand ! into Latin Lyric V'erse 25: Round us roars the tempest louder ; think what fear our minds enthrals, harder yet, it yet blows harder, nc'v again the boatswain calls ! The top-sail yards point to the wind, boys, see all clear to reef each course ; let the fore-sheet go, don't mind, boys, though the weather should be worse. Fore and aft the sprit-sail yard get, reef the mizen, see all clear; hands up, each preventure-brace set, man the fore-yard, cheer, lads, cheer I Now the dreadful thunder's roarmg, peal on peal contending clash, on our heads fierce rain falls pouring, in our eyes blue lightnings flash. One wide water all around us, all above us one black sky, different deaths at once surround us : hark ! what means that dreadful cry \ O'er the lee-beam is the land, boys, let the guns o'erboard be thrown ; to the pump let every hand, boys ; see ! our mizen-mast is gone. While o'er the ship wild waves are beating, we for wives or children mourn ; alas ! from hence there 's no retreating, alas ! to them there 's no return. Still the leak is gaining on us ; both chain-pumps are choked below— Heaven have mercy here upon us ! for only that can save us now. — The leak we've found, it cannot pour fast, we've lightened her a foot or more ; up and rig a jury foremast, she rights, she rights ! boys— we 're off the shore. G. A. STEVENS 256 Passages for Translation 490 MAN'S MEDLEY H ARK, how the birds do sing 49: and woods do ring: all creatures have their joy and man hath his. Yet, if we rightly measure, man's joy and pleasure rather hereafter, than in present, is. To this life things of sense make their pretence: in the other Angels have a right by birth: man ties them both alone, and makes them one, with the one hand touching heaven, with the other earth. -;;- -"- * * ■«■ But as his joys are double, so is his trquble: he hath two Vinters, other things but one : both frosts and thoughts do nip: and bite his lip ; and he of all things fears two deaths alone. Yet even the greatest griefs may be reliefs, could he but take them right, and in their ways. Happy is he, whose heart hath found the art to turn his double pains to double praise. G. HERBERT TO CONTEMPLA TION OR lead me where amid the tranquil vale the broken stream flows on in silver light, and I will linger where the gale o'er the bank of violets sighs, listening to hear its softened sounds arise; and hearken the dull beetle's drowsy flight: and watch the horn-eyed snail creep o'er his long moon-glittering trail, and mark where radiant through the night moves in the grass-green hedge the glow-worm's living light Thee, meekest power! I love to meet, iiito Latin Lyric Verse 257 as oft with even solitary pace the scattered abbey's hallowed rounds I trace, and listen to the echoings of my feet. Oi on the half-demolished tomb, whose warning texts anticipate my doom, mark the clear orb of night cast through the storying glass a faintly-varied light. ^5- * * * But sweeter 'tis to wander wild by melancholy dreams beguiled, while the summer moon's pale ray faintly guides me on my way to the lone romantic glen far from all the haunts of men, where no noise of uproar rude breaks the calm of solitude: but soothing silence sleeps in all, save the neighbouring waterfall, whose hoarse waters falling near load with hollow sounds the ear, and with down-dasht torrent white gleam hoary through the shades of night. R. SOUTHEY 492 THE PRAYER OF HABAKKUK THE PROPHET O Lord, I have heard thy speech, and was afraid: O Lord, revive thy work in the midst of the years ; in wrath remember mercy. God came from Teman, and the Holy one from Mount Paran: His glory covered the heavens, and the earth was full of His praise. Before Him w^ent the pestilence, and burning coals went forth at His feet: and His brightness was as the light: He had bright beams coming out of His side, and there was the hiding of His power: Thy bow was made quite naked. I saw the tents of Cushau in afflidion, and the curtains of the land of Midian did tremble. He stood and measured the earth: He beheld, and drove asunder the nations; F. S. II. 17 258 Passages for Translation and the everlasting mountains were scattered, the perpetual hills did bow. Thou didst cleave the earth with rivers: Thou didst walk through the sea v/ith Thine horses, through the heap of great waters. The mountains saw Thee and they trembled, the stream of water overflowed: the deep uttered his voice, and lifted up his hands on high: the sun and moon stood still in their habitation: at the light of Thine arrows they went, and at the shining of Thy glittering spear. Was the Lord displeased against the rivers? was Thy wrath against the sea, that Thou didst ride upon Thine horses and Thy chariots of salvation? They came out as a whirlwind to scatter me: their rejoicing was as to devour the poor secretly; Thou didst march through the land in indignation, Thou didst thresh the heathen in anger. When I heard, my belly trembled: my lips quivered at the voice: rottenness entered into my bones, and I trembled in myself, that I might rest in the day of trouble: when he cometh up unto the people, he will invade them with his troops. Although the fig-tree shall not blossom, neither shall fruit be in the vines, the labour of the olive shall fail, and the fields shall yield no meat ; the flock shall be cut off from the fold, and there shall be no herd in the stalls: yet I will rejoice in the Lord, I will joy in the God of my salvation. The Lord God is my strength, and He will make my feet like hinds' feet, and He will make me to walk upon mine high places. 493 PROPHECY OF THE DESTRUCTION OF TYRE Ezekiel xxvi. 2 — 21. into Latin Lyric Verse 259 494 DENUNCIATION OF GOD'S JUDGMENTS AGAINST THE JEWS Isaiah v. 495 THANKSGIVING OF THE FAITHFUL FOR THE MERCIES OF GOD Isaiah xii. 496 PREDICTION OF THE FALL OF BABYLON Isaiah xiv. 4 — 27. 497 HEZEKIAH'S SONG OF THANKSGIVING Isaiah xxxviii. 9 — 20. 498 DAVID'S LAMENTATION OVER SAUL AND JONATHAN II Samuel i. 17 — 27. 499 MOSES' SONG Exodus XV. I — 19. 500 MOSES' SONG Deuteronomy xxxii. i — 43. 501 LAMENTATION OVER THE MISERY OF JERUSALEM Lamentations ii. 8 — 15. 502 THE CALAMITIES OF THE FAITHFUL Lamentations iii. i — 9 : 22 — 30. 503 ZION BEIVAILETH HER PITIFUL STATE Lamentations iv, 1^6. ^04 ZION'S PRAYER Lamentations v. i — 11. 505 BALAAM'S PROPHECY Numbers xxiv, 5—9. 17—2 26o Passages for Trau'lation 506 TO THE MEMORY OF THE FIRST LADY LYTTELTON OFT would the Dryads of these woods rejoice to hear her heavenly voice ; for her despising, when she deigned to sing, the sweetest songsters of the spring: the woodlark and the linnet pleased no more ; the nightingale was mute and every shepherd's flute was cast in silent scorn away, while ail attended to her sweeter lay. Ye larks and linnets now resume your song, and thou, melodious Philomel, again this plaintive story tell ; for death has stopped that tuneful tongue, whose music could alone your warbling notes excel. In vain I look around, o'er all the well-known ground, my Lucy's wonted footsteps to descry; where oft we us'd to walk, where oft in tender talk we saw the summer sun go down the sky ; nor by yon fountain's side, nor where its waters glide along the valley, can she now be found : in all the wide-stretch'd prospe(5l's ample bound no more my mournful eye can aught of her espy, but the sad sacred earth where her dear relics lie. 507 So, where the silent streams of Liris glide, in the soft bosom of Campania's vale, when now the wintry tempests all are fled, and genial Summer breathes her gentle gale, the verdant orange lifts its beauteous head ; from every branch the balmy flowerets rise, on every bough the golden fruits are seen ; with odours sweet it fills the smiling skies, the wood-nymphs tend it, and th' Idalian queen: but, in the midst of all its blooming pride, a sudden blast from Apenninus blows, cold with perpetual snows; the tender-blighted plant shrinks up its leaves, and dies. into Latin Lyric Verse 261 O best of women! dearer far to me than whep, in blooming life, my lips first call'd thee wife ; how can my soul endure the loss of thee? How in the world, to me a desert grown, abandon'd and alone, without my sweet companion can I live? without thy lovely smile, the dear reward of every virtuous toil, what pleasures now can pall'd ambition give? E'en the delightful sense of well-earn'd praise, unshar'd by thee, no more my lifeless thoughts could raise. GEORGE LORD LYTTELTON 508 TO THE WORLD— THE PERFECTION OF LOVE YOU who are earth, and cannot rise above your sence, boasting the envyed wealth which lyes bright in your mistris' lips or eyes, betray a pittyed eloquence. That which doth joyne our soules, so light and quicke doth move, that like the eagle in his flight, it doth transcend all humane sight, lost in the element of love. You poets reach not this who sing the praise of dust but kneaded, when by theft you bring the rose and lilly from the spring t' adorne the wrinckled face of lust. When we speake love, nor art nor wit we glosse upon: our soules engender, and beget ideas, which you counterfeit in your dull propagation. While time seven ages shall disperse, wee'le talke of love, and when our tongues hold no commerse, our thoughts shall mutually converse ; and yet the blood no rebell prove. 262 Passages for Translation And though we be of severall kind fit for offence ; ^. yet are we so by love refined from impure drosse, we are all mind. Death could not more have conquer'd sence. How suddenly those flames expire which scorch our clay ! Prometheus-like when we steale fire from Heaven, tis endless and intire ; it may know age but not decay. W. HABINGTON K 509 CHRIST IS RISEN ^WAKE, thou wintry earth, fling off thy sadness ; fair vernal flowers, laugh forth your ancient gladness : Christ is risen. Wave, woods, your blossoms all, grim death is dead ; ye weeping funeral trees, lift up your head: Christ is risen. Come, see, the graves are green ; it is light ; let's go where our loved ones rest in hope below : Christ is risen. All is fresh and new ; full of spring and light ; wintry heart, why wearest the hue of sleep and night ? Christ is risen. Leave thy cares beneath, leave thy worldly love ; begin the better life with God above: Christ is risen. T. BLACKBURNE 510 THE WISH THIS only grant me, that my means may lye too low for envy, for contempt too high ; into Latin Lyric Verse 263 some honour I would have, not from great deeds, but good alone ; the unknown ^e better than ill known ; rumour can ope the grave. Acquaintance I would have, but when't depends not on the number, but the choice of friends. Books should, not business, entertain the light, and sleep, as undisturbed as death, the night: my house a cottage more than palace, and should fitting be for all my use, not luxury : my garden painted o'er with Nature's hand, not art's, that pleasures yield, Horace might envy in his Sabine field. Thus would I double my life's fading space, for he that runs it well, twice runs his race: and in this true delight, these unbought sports and happy state, I would not fear, nor wish my fate, but boldly say each night ; To-iAorrow let my Sun his beams display, or in clouds hide them: I have lived to-day. A. COWLEY 511 CATO'S SOLILOQUY IT must be so — Plato, thou reason'st well! else whence this pleasing hope, this fond desire, this longing after immortality? Or whence this secret dread, and inward horrour of falling into nought? why shrinks the Soul back on herself, and startles at destrucflion ? 'Tis the divinity that stirs within us ; 'tis Heaven itself, that points out an hereafter, and intimates eternity to man. Eternity! thou pleasing, dreadful thought! through what variety of untried being, through what new scenes and changes must we pass ! the wide, the unbounded prospecft, lies before me ; but shadows, clouds, and darkness rest upon it. Here will I hold. If there's a Power above us, (and that there is all Nature cries aloud through all her works,) he must delight in virtue ; and that which he delights in must be happy. w 264 Passages for Translation But when ! or where ! — This world was made for Caesar. I'm weary of conjedlures — this must end 'em. \Layi)ig his hand on his sivord. Thus am I doubly armed: My death and life, my bane and antidote, are both before me: this in a moment brings me to an end; but this informs me I shall never die. The soul secured in her existence smiles at the drawn dagger, and defies its point : the stars shall fade away, the sun himself grow dim with age, and nature sink in years, but thou shalt flourish in immortal youth, unhurt amidst the war of elements, the wrecks of matter, and the crush of worlds. J. ADDISON 513 CONSTANCY 'HO is the honest man? He that doth still and strongly good pursue, to God, his neighbour, and himself most true ; whom neither force nor fawning can unpin or wrench from giving all their due. Whose honesty is not so loose or easy, that a ruffling wind can blow away, or glittering look it blind: who rides his sure and even trot, while the world now rides by, now lags behind. Who when great trials come, nor seeks nor shuns them ; but doth calmly stay, till he the thing and the example weigh; all being brought into a sum, what place or person calls for, he doth pay. Whom none can work or woo, to use in any thing a trick or sleight; for above all things he abhors deceit; his words and works and fashion too all of a piece and all are clear and straight. Whom nothing can procure when the wide world runs bias, from his will to writhe his limbs, and share, not mend the ill. This is the marksman, safe and sure, who still is right, and prays to be so still. G. HERBERT into Latin Lyric Verse ^I^ TO CONTEMPLATION I WILL meet thee on the hill, where with printless footsteps still the morning in her buskin grey springs upon her eastern way; while the frolic zephyrs stir, playing with the gossamer, ' and on ruder pinions borne shake the dew-drops from the thorn. There, as o'er the fields we pass, brushing with hasty feet the grass, we will startle from her nest the lively lark with speckled breast ; and hear the floating clouds among her gale-transported matin-song; or on the upland stile, embowered with fragrant hawthorn snowy-flowered, will sauntering sit, and listen still to the herdsman's oaten quill, wafted from the plain below, or the heifer's frequent low. Or, when the noontide heats oppress, we will seek the dark recess, where in the embowered translucent stream the cattle shun the sultry beam ; and o'er us on the marge reclined the drowsy fly her horn shall wind, while Echo from her ancient oak shall answer to the woodman's stroke ; or the little peasant's song wandering lone the glens among. H. K. WHITE 514 FIELD FLOWERS YE field flowers! the gardens eclipse you, 'tis true, Yet, wildings of Nature, I doat upon you, for ye waft me to summers of old, when the earth teemed around me with fairy delight, and when daisies and buttercups gladdened my sight, like treasures of silver and gold. 266 Passages for Translation I love you for lulling me back into dreams of the blue Highland mountains and echoing streams, and of birchen glades breathing their balm, Avhile the deer was seen glancing in sunshine remote, and the deep mellow crush of the wood-pigeon's note made music that sweetened the calm. Not a pastoral song has a pleasanter tune than ye speak to my heart, little wildings of June : of old ruinous castles ye tell, where I thought it delightful your beauties to find, ■ when the magic of Nature first breathed on my mind, and your blossoms were part of her spell. Even now what affeflions the violet awakes; what loved little islands, twice seen in their lakes, can the wild water-lily restore; what landscapes I read in the primrose's looks, and what pictures of pebbled and minno\vy brooks, in the vetches that tangled their shore. Earth's cultureless buds, to my heart ye were dear, ere the fever of passion, or ague of fear had scathed my existence's bloom ; once I welcome you more, in life's passionless stage, with the visions of youth to revisit my age, and I wish you to grow on my tomb. T. CAMPBELL 5^5 THE LAST MAM ALL worldly shapes shall melt in gloom, - the Sun himself must die, before this mortal shall assume its Immortality! I saw a vision in my sleep, that gave my spirit strength to sweep adown the gulf of Time! I saw the last of human mould, that shall Creation's death behold, as Adam saw her prime ! the Sun's eye had a sickly glare, the Earth with age was wan, the skeletons of nations were around that lonely man! into Latiti Lyric Verse 267 Some had expired in fight, — the brands still rusted in their bony hands ; in plague and famine some ! Earth's cities had no sound nor tread ; and ships were drifting with the dead to shores where all was dumb ! Yet prophet-like that lone one stood with dauntless words and high, that shook the sere leaves from the wood as if a storm passed by, saying. We are twins in death, proud Sun, thy face is cold, thy race is run, 'tis Mercy bids thee go : for thou ten thousand thousand years hast seen the tide of human tears, that shall no longer flow. T. CAMPBELL 516 MODERN GREECE HE who hath bent him o'er the dead ere the first day of death is fled, the first dark day of nothingness, the last of danger and distress, (before Decay's effacing fingers have swept the lines where beauty lingers,) and marked the mild angelic air, the rapture of repose that 's there, the fixed yet tender traits that streak the languor of the placid cheek, and — but for that sad shrouded eye, that fires not, wins not, weeps not, now, and but for that chill, changeless brow, where cold Obstrudlion's apathy appals the gazing mourner's heart, as if to him it could impart the doom he dreads, yet dwells upon ; yes, but for these and these alone, some moments, aye, one treacherous hour, he still might doubt the tyrant's power; so fair, so calm, so softly sealed, the first, last look by death revealed ! Such is the aspeifl of this shore ; 'tis Greece, but living Greece no more ! LORD BYRON 268 Passages for Translation K S^'] BE A UTV ^S rising on its purple wing the insedl-queen of eastern spring o'er emerald meadows of Kashmeer invites the young pursuer near, and leads him on from flower to flower a weary chase and wasted hour, then leaves him, as it soars on high, with panting heart and tearful eye: so Beauty lures the full-grown child with hue as bright and wing as wild; a chase of idle hopes and fears, begun in folly, closed in tears. If won, to equal ills betrayed, woe waits the insecfl and the maid: a life of pain, the loss of peace, from infant's play and man's caprice: the lovely toy so fiercely sought hath lost its charm by being caught, for every touch that wooed its stay hath brushed its brightest hues away, till charm and hue and beauty gone, 'tis left to fly or fall alone. LORD BYRON 518 ODE TO EVENING IF aught of oaten stop or pastoral song, may hope, chaste Eve, to soothe thy modest ear (like thy own solemn springs, thy springs, and dying gales) ; O nymph reserved, — while now the bright-haired sun sits in yon western tent, whose cloudy skirts, with brede ethereal wove, o'erhang his wavy bed, and air is hushed, save where the weak-eyed bat with short shrill shriek flits by on leathern wing, or where the beetle winds his small but sullen horn, as oft he rises 'midst the twilight path, against the pilgrim borne in heedless hum, — Now teach me, maid composed, to breathe some softened strain, whose numbers stealing through thy darkening vale, into Latin Lyric Verse 269 may not unseemly with its stillness suit ; as, musing slow, I hail thy genial, loved return! for when thy folding-star arising shows his paly circlet, at his warning lamp the fragrant Hours, and elves who slept in buds the day, and many a nymph who wreathes her brows with sedge, and sheds the fresh'ning dew, and, lovelier still, the pensive pleasures sweet, prepare thy shadowy car. Then let me rove some wild and heathy scene ; or find some ruin, 'midst its dreary dells, whose walls more awful nod by thy religious gleams. Or if chill blustering winds or driving rain prevent my willing feet, be mine the hut that from the mountain's side views wilds, and swelling floods, and hamlets brown, and dim-discovered spires, and hears their simple bell, and marks o'er all thy dewy fingers draw the gradual dusky veil. While Spring shall pour his showers, as oft he wont, and bathe thy breathing tresses, meekest eve! while Summer loves to sport beneath thy lingering light ; while sallow Autumn fills thy lap with leaves ; or Winter, yelling through the troublous air, affrights thy shrinking train, and rudely rends thy robes ; so long regardful of thy quiet rule, shall Fancy, Friendship, Science, smiling Peace, thy gentlest influence own, and love thy favourite name! W. COLLINS 519 TO PRIMROSES FILLED WITH MORNING DEW WHY do ye weep, sweet Babes ? can tears speak grief in you, who were but born just as the modest morn teemed her refreshing dew? ijo Passages for Translation Alas, you ha\e not known that shower that mars a flower; nor felt the unkind breath of a blasting wind; nor are ye worn with years ; or warpt, as we, who think it strange to see such pretty flowers, like to orphans young, to speak by tears, before ye have a tongue. Speak, whimpering younglings, and make known the reason why ye. droop and weep ; is it for want of sleep? or childish lullaby? or that ye have not seen as yet the violet? Or brought a kiss from that sweet-heart, to this ? No, no, this sorrow shown by your tears shed would have this lecture read, that things of greatest, so of meanest worth, conceived with grief are and with tears brought forth. R. HERRICK 520 CORIXNA'S GOING A MAYING GET up, get up for shame, the blooming morn upon her wings presents the god unshorn. See how Aurora throws her fair fresh-quilted colours through the air : get up, sweet slug-a-bed, and see the dew-bespangling herb and tree. Each flower has wept, and bowed towards the East, above an hour since: yet you not drest, nay, not so much as out of bed? when all the birds have matins said, and sung their thankful hymns : 'tis sin ; nay, profanation to keep in, when as a thousand Virgins on this day spring sooner then the lark to fetch in May. Rise ; and put on your foliage, and be seen to come forth, like the spring-time, fresh and green ; 521 into Latin Lyric Verse 271 and sweet as Flora. Take no care for jewels for your gown or hair; fear not : the leaves will strew gems in abundance upon you : besides, the childhood of the day has kept, against you come, some orient pearls unwept ; come and receive them while the light hangs on the dew-locks of the night : and Titan on the Eastern hill retires himself, or else stands still till you come forth. Wash, dress, be brief in praying : few beads are best, when once we go a Maying. Come let us go, while we are in our prime ; and take the harmless folly of the time. We shall grow old apace, and die before we know our liberty. Our life is short ; and our days run as fast away as does the sun : and as a vapour, or a drop of rain once lost, can ne'er be found again : so when or you or I are made a fable, song r>r fleeting shade ; all love, all liking, all delight lies drowned with us in endless night. Then while time serves, and we are but decaying; Come, my Corinna, come, let's go a Maying. R. HERRICK HERMOTIMUS VAINLY were the words of parting spoken; ever more must Charon turn from me. Still my thread of life remains unbroken, and unbroken it must ever be; only they may rest whom the Fates' behest from their mortal mansion setteth free. I have seen the robes of Hermes glisten — seen him wave afar his serpent wand; but to me the Herald would not listen — when the dead swept by at his command, not with that pale crew durst I venture too — ever shut for me the quiet land. 2 72 Passages for Translation into Latin Lyric Verse Day and night before the dreary portal phantom-shapes, the guards of Hades, lie; none of heavenly kind nor yet of mortal, may unchallenged pass the warders by. None that path may go, if he cannot show his last passport to eternity. Cruel was the spirit-power thou gavest — fatal, O Apollo, was thy love ! Pythian! Archer! brightest God and bravest, hear, O hear me from thy throne above! Let me not, I pray, thus be cast away: Plead for mc— thy slave— O plead to Jove! I have heard thee with the Muses singing — heard that full melodious voice of thine, silver-clear throughout the ether ringing — seen thy locks in golden clusters shine; and thine eye, so bright with its innate light, hath ere now been bent so low as mine. Hast thou lost the wish — the will — to cherish those who trusted in thy godlike power? Hyacinthus did not wholly perish! still he lives, the firstling of thy bower; still he feels thy rays, fondly meets thy gaze, though but now the spirit of a flowcf. vr. E. AYTOU>r PASSAGES FOR TRANSLATION INTO LATIN COMIC lAAIBICS I SCENE FROM TWELFTH NIGHT SIR ANDREW AGUE-CHEEK— SEBASTIAN— SIR TOBY BELCH — CLOWN Sir And. Now, sir, have I met you again ? there 's for you. {striking Seb. Seb. Why, there 's for thee, and there, and there : are all the people mad? {draws, beating Sir A. Sir To. Hold, sir, or I'll throw your dagger o'er the house. do. This will I tell my lady straight : I would not be in some of your coats for two-pence. Sir To. Come on, sir ; hold ! [holding Seb. Sir Ajid. Nay, let him alone; I'll go another way to work with him ; I '11 have an a<5lion of battery against him, if there be any law in Illyria: though I struck him first, yet it's no matter for that. Seb. Let go thy hand. Sir To. Come, sir, I will not let you go. Come, my young soldier, put up your iron : you are well flesh'd ; come on. Seb. I will be free from thee. What wouldst thou now ] If thou dar'st tempt me further, draw thy sword. Sir To. What, what ! Nay, then I must have an ounce or two of this malapert blood from you. {draws W. SHAKESPEARE 3 SCENE FROM MERRY WIVES OF WINDSOR FALSTAFF — BARDOLPH Fal. Bardolph, I say ! Bard. Here, sir. Fal. Go, fetch me a quart of sack; put a toast in't. Have I lived to be carried in a basket, like a barrow of F. s. n. 1 8 2 74 Passages for Translation butcher's offal ; and to be thrown into the Thames? Well, if I be served such another trick, I'll have my brains ta'en out and buttered, and give them to a dog for a new- year's gift. The rogues slighted me into the river with as little remorse as they would have drowned a bitch's blind puppies, fifteen i' the litter; and you may know by my size, that I have a kind of alacrity in sinking; if the bottom were as deep as hell, I should down. I had been drowned, but that the shore was shelvy and shallow ; a death that I abhor ; for the water swells a man, and what a thing should I have been, when I had been swelled ! I should have been a mountain of mummy. W. SHAKESPEARE 3 SCEXE FROM COMEDY OF ERRORS ADRIANA — DROMIO — LUCIAXA Adr. Say, is your tardy master now at hand \ Droin. At hand? nay, he is at two hands with me, and that my two ears can witness. Adr. Say, didst thou speak with him? know'st thou his mind ? Drom. Aye, aye, he told his mind i^pon mine ear: beshrew his hand, I scarce could understand it. Luc. Spake he so doubtfully, thou could'st not feel his meaning ? Drom. Nay, he struck so plainly, 1 could too well feel his blows: and withal so doubtfully that I could scarce understand them. Adr. But say, I pr'ythee, is he coming home? It seems, he hath great care to please his wife. W. SHAKESPEARE 4 ' Why,' exclaimed one of them to the aged dame, ' thou that art, like a corpse on the funeral pile, a disgrace to mortal life, and Pluto's abomination, dost thou make game of us that thou hast thus been sitting at home all day idle ? What \ at this late hour, after all our labours and perils hast thou nothing to give us for supper, and nought to think of but continually to pour wine down thy throat, into that greedy growling stomach of thine?' 'Brave, honourable young gentlemen, my masters,' re- plied the old woman, who seemed frightened out of her into Latin Comic Iambics 275 wits, 'all, all is ready, stewed meats, sweet and smoking, in rich gravy, wine in abundance, cups cleaned bright, and plenty of loaves of bread. The water too, for your hasty bath, is heated as usual.' 5 SCENE FROM MERRY JFIVES OF ]VINDSOR MR FORD — MR PAGE — MRS FORD Ford. Well, he's not here I seek for. Page. No, nor no where else, but in your brain. Fofd. Help to search my house this one time : if I find not what I seek, show no colour for my ex- tremity, let me for ever be your table-sport ; let them say of me. As jealous as Ford, that searched a hollow walnut for his wife's leman. Satisfy me once more ; once more search with me. Mrs Ford. What, hoa, mistress Page! come you and the old woman down ; my husband will come into the chamber. Ford. Old woman! What old woman's that? Mrs F. Why, it is my maid's aunt of Brentford. Ford. A witch, a quean, an old cozening quean ! Have I not forbid her my house ! She comes of errands does she I We are simple men ; we do not know what's brought to pass under the profession of fortune-telling. She works by charms, by spells, by the figure, and such daubery as this ; beyond our element ; we know nothing. Come down, you witch, you hag, you ; come down I say. Airs F. Nay, good, sweet husband ; good gentlemen, let him not strike the old woman. [Enter Falstaff in vjomatis clothes, led by Mrs Page.'\ Mis Page. Come, mother Prat, come give me your hand. Ford. I '11 prat her : out of my door, you witch, you rag, you baggage, you polecat, you ronyon ! out, out, I'll conjure you, I'll fortune-tell you. \cxit Falstaff. 6 SCENE FROM COMEDY OF ERRORS ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE — DROMIO OF EPHESUS Ant. Stop in your wind, sir; tell me this, I pray; where have you left the money that I gave you ? 18—2 276 Passages for Translation Drom. O, — sixpence, that I had o' Wednesday last: to pay the saddler for my mistress' crupper ;— the saddler had it, sir, I kept it not. Ant. I am not in a sportive humour now; tell me and dally not, where is the money ? We being strangers here, how dar'st thou trust so great a charge from thine own custody ! DroJn. I pray you, jest, sir, as you sit at dinner : I from my mistress come to you in post ; If I return, I shall be post indeed : for she will score your fault upon my pate. Ant. Come, Dromio, come, these jests are out of season ; reserve them till a merrier hour than this. Where is the gold I gave in charge to thee ? To me, sir ! why you gave no gold to me. Come on, sir knave ; have done your foolishness, and tell me, how thou hast disposed thy charge. My charge was but to fetch you from the mart home to your house, the Phoenix, sir, to dinner; my mistress and her sister stay for you. Now, as I am a Christian, answer me, in what safe place you have bestowed my money"; or I shall break that merry sconce of yours, that stands on tricks when I am undisposed. Dro7n. Ant. Drom. Ant. 7 SCENE FROJI COMEDY OF ERRORS DROMIO OF SYRACUSE— ANTIPHOLUS OF SYRACUSE Ant. How now, sir? is your merry humour altered? as you love strokes, so jest with me again. You know no Centaur ? you received no gold ? your mistress sent to have me home to dinner? my house was at the Phoenix ? Wast thou mad, that thus so madly thou didst answer me ? Drom. What answer, sir ? when spake I such a word ? Ant. Even now, even here, not half an hour since. Drom. I did not see you since you sent me hence home to the Centaur, with the gold you gave me. Ant. Villain, thou didst deny the gold's receipt ; and told'st me of a mistress and a dinner; for which, I hope, thou felt'st I was displeased. Drom. I am glad to see you in this merry vein: what means this jest? I pray you, master, tell me. into Latin Comic Iambics 177 Ant. Yea, dost thou jeer and flout me in the teeth ? Thinkest thou, I jest ? Hold, take thou that and that {beating hint Dram. Hold, sir, for God's sake: now your jest is earnest: upon what bargain do you give it me ? 8 SCENE FROM COMEDY OF ERRORS ANTIPHOLUS — LUCIANA— ADRIANA — DROMIO Ant. Plead you to me, fair darnel I know you not : in Ephesus I am but two years old, as strange unto your town, as to your talk; who every word by all my wit being scanned want wit in all one word to understand. Lttc. Fye, brother, how the world is changed with you : When were you wont to use my sister thus ? She sent for you by Dromio home to dinner. Ant. By Dromio? Drom. By me ? Adr, By thee : and this thou didst return from him, — that he did buffet thee and in his blows denied my house for his, me for his wife. Ant, Did you converse, sir, with this gentlewoman ? what is the course and drift of your compdcfl \ Drain. I, sir ? I never saw her till this time. Ant. Villain, thou liest: for even her very words didst thou deliver to me on the mart. Drain. I never spake to her in all my life. Ant. How can she thus then call us by our names, unless it be by inspiration ! SCENE FROM COMEDY OF ERRORS ANTIPHOLUS OF EPHESUS BEFORE THE DUKE OF EPHESUS Ant. ISIy liege, I am advised what I say ; Neither disturbed with the eftecfl of wine, nor heady-rash, provok'd with raging ire, albeit, my wrongs might make one wiser mad. This woman lock'd me out this day from dinner: that goldsmith there, were he not pack'd with her, 278 Passages fo/ Translation could witness it, for he was with me then ; who parted with me to go fetch a chain, promising to bring it to the Porcupine, where Balthazar and I did dine together. Our dinner done, and he not coming thither, I went to seek him : in the street I met him ; and in his company, that gentleman, there did this perjur'd goldsmith swear me down, that I this day of him receiv'd the chain, which, God he knows, I saw not : for the which, he did arrest me with an officer. I did obey ; and sent my peasant home for certain ducats : he with none return'd. Then fairly I bespoke the officer, to go in person with me to my house. By the way we met my wife, her sister, and a rabble more of vile confederates ; along with them they brought one Pinch ; a hungry lean-fac'd villain, a mere anatomy, a mountebank, a thread-bare juggler, and a fortune-teller ; a needy, hollow-ey'd, sharp-looking wretch, a living dead man : this pernicious slave, forsooth, took on him as a conjurer; and, gazing in mine eyes, feeling my pulse, and with no face, as 'twere, outfacing me, cries out, I was possessed : then all together they fell upon me, bound me, bore me thence ; and in a dark and dankish vault at home there left me and my man, both bound together ; till gnawing with my teeth my bonds in sunder, I gain'd my freedom, and immediately ran hither to your grace ; whom I beseech to give me ample satisfa(fl:ion for these deep shames and great indignities. 10 SCENE FROM THE FOX MOSCA, the knavish parasite ^ VOLPONE, a rich and child- less Venetian nobleman, persuades VOLTORE, an advocate^ that he is^ named for the inheritance of his master, who feigns himself to be dying. Volt. But am I sole heir? into Latin Comic Iambics 279 Mos. Without a partner, sir; confirmed tliis morning; the wax is warm yet, and the ink scarce dry upon the parchment. Volt. Happy, happy, me ! by what good chance, sweet Mosca ? Mos. Your desert, sir ; I know no second cause. Volt. Thy modesty is not to know it : well, we shall requite it. Mos. He ever liked your course, sir : that first took him. I oft have heard him say, how he admired men of your large profession, that could speak to every cause and things mere contraries, till they were hoarse again, yet all be law; that, with most quick agility could turn and (re)-return ; could make knots, and undo them : give forked counsel ; take provoking gold on either hand and put it up : these men, he knew, would thrive with their humility. And, for his part, he thought he should be blest to have his heir of such a suffering spirit, so wise, so grave, of so perplexed a tongue, and loud withal, that would not wag nor scarce be still, withov t a fee ; when every word your worship but lets fall, is a chequin ! B. JONSON II SCENE FROM THE FOX MOSCA — VOLPONE, after prailising upon the avarice of an old gentleman CORBACCI O Volp. \lcaping from his conch'] O, I shall burst ! let out my sides, let out my sides — Mos. Contain your flux of laughter, sir ; you know this hope is such a bait, it covers any hook. Volp. O, but thy working and thy placing it ! I cannot hold ; good rascal, let me kiss thee: I never knew thee in so rare a humour. Mos. Alas, sir, I but do, as I am taught ; follow your grave instrucflions ; give them words ; pour oil into their ears, and send them hence. 28o Passages for Trajislation Volp. Tis true tis true. vVliat a rare punishment is avarice to itself! Mos. Ay, with our help, sir, Volp. So many cares, so many maladies, so many fears attending on old age, yea, death so often called on, as no wish can be more frequent with them, their limbs faint, their senses dull, their seeing, hearing, going, all dead before them ; yea, their very teeth, their instruments of eating, failing them : yet this is reckoned life ! nay, here was one is now gone home, that wishes to live longer ! feels not his gout nor palsy ; feigns himself younger by scores of years, flatters his age with confident belying it, hopes he may, with charms, like ^son, have his youth restored: and with these thoughts so battens, as if fate would be as easily cheated on, as he, and all turns air ! B. JONSON 12 SCENE FROM EVERY MAN IN HIS HUMOUR WELL-BRED— CAPTAIN BOBADILL — E. KNOWELL Wcl. Captain Bobadill, why muse you so? Know. He is melancholy too. Bob. 'Faith, sir, I was thinking of a most honourable piece of service, was performed to-morrow, being St Mark's to-day, shall be some ten years now. Know. In what place, captain? Bob. Why, at the beleaguering of Strigonium, where no less than two hours, seven hundred resolute gentlemen, as any were in Europe, lost their lives upon the breach. I'll tell you, gentlemen, it was the first but the best leaguer that ever I beheld with these eyes, except the taking in of— what do you call it ? last year — by the Genoways ; but that of all other was the most fatal and dangerous exploit that ever I was ranged in, since I first bore arms before the face of the enemy, as I am a gentleman and a soldier ! K710W. Then you were a servitor at both, it seems ; at Strigonium, and what do you call 't ? into Latiti Comic Ia7nbics 281 Bob. By St George, I was the first man that entered the breach, and had I not effecfted it with resohition, I had been slain, if I had had a miUion of hves observe me judi- cially, sweet sir : they had planted me three demi-culverins just in the mouth of the breach ; now, sir, as we were to give on, their master-gunner (a man of no mean skill and mark, you must think), confronts me with his linstock, ready to give fire ; I, spying his intendment, discharged my pe- tronel in his bosom, and with these single arms, my poor rapier, ran violently upon the Moors that guarded the ordi- nance and put 'em pell-mell to the sword. B. JONSON 13 . SCENE FROM THE ALCHEMIST FACE, the house-keeper, in order to conceal what had been going on in his Master lovewit's house, during his absence, tries to persuade him that it was shut up on account 0/ being visited by an apparition. Face. Good sir, come from the door. Love. Why, what's the matter? Face. Yet farther, you are too near yet. Love. In the name of wonder, what m.eans the fellow ! Face. The house, sir, has been visited. Love. What with the plague ? Stand thou then farther. Face. No, sir, I had it not. Love. Who had it then? I left none else but thee in the house. Face. Yes, sir, my fellow, the cat that kept the buttery, had it on her a week before I spied it ; but I got her conveyed away in the night : and so I shut the house up for a month — Love. How ! Face. Purposing then, sir, t' have burnt rose-vinegar, treacle tar, and have made it sweet, that you should ne'er have known it ; because I knew the news would but affli(ft you, sir. 282 Passages for Ti'anslatioii Love. Breathe less and farther off! why this is stranger: the neighbours tell me all here that the doors have still been open — Face. How, sir ! Love. Gallants, they tell me, men and women, and of all sorts, tag-rag, been seen to flock here — Face. They did pass through the doors then, or walls, 1 assure their eye-sights and their spec- tacles ; for here, sir, are the keys, and here have been, in this my pocket now above twenty days : and for before, I kept the fort alone there. B. JONSON 14 SCENE FROM THE GUARDIAN DURAZZO reproved by CAMILLO for iiidtdging the extrava- gance of /lis /lep/iew and -ward. Par. Tell me of his expenses ! which of you stands bound for a gazet ? he spends his own ; and you impertinent fools or knaves, (make choice of either title, which your signiorships please,) to meddle in't. Cam. Your age gives privilege to this harsh language. r>tir. My age ! do not use that word agam ; if you do, I shall grow young and swinge you soundly. I would have you know though I write fifty odd, I do not carry an ahiianack in my bones to predeclare what weather we shall have ; nor do I kneel in adoration of the spring and fall before my dodlor. Cam. . This is from the purpose Dnr. I cannot cut a caper, or groan like you when I have done, nor run away so nimbly out of the field : but bring me to a fence-school, and crack a blade or two for exercise, ride a barbed horse, or take a leap after me, following my hounds or hawks, and you'll confess I am in the May of my abilities and you in your December. into Lati}i Comic Iambics -"J Lent. We are glad you bear your years so well. Dur. My years ! no more of years ; if you do, at your peril Cam. We desire not to prove your valour, Dur. 'Tis your safest course Cavi. But, as friends to your fame and reputation, come to instrudl you, your too much indulgence to the exorbitant waste of young Caldoro, your nephew and your ward, hath rendered you but a bad report among wise men in Naples, Ditr. Wise men ! — in your opinion ; but to me that understand myself and them, they are hide-bounded money-mongers : they would have me train up my ward a hopeful youth, to keep a merchant's book ; or at the plough ; clothe him in canvass or coarse cotton : let him know no more than how to cipher well or do his tricks by the square root ; grant him no plea- sure but quoits and nine-pins : suffer him to converse with none but clowns and coblers. P. MASSINGER 1 ^^ THE PARASITE 'J WHAT art, vocation, trade or mystery can match with your fine parasite ? — The Painter ! He! a mere dauber; A vile drudge the Farmer: their business is to labour, ours to laugh, to jeer, to quibble, faith sirs ! and to drink, aye, and to drink lustily. Is not this rare? 'Tis life, my life at least : the first of pleasures were to be rich myself ; but next to this I hold it best to be a Parasite, and feed upon the rich. Now mark me right ! you know my humour, not one spark of pride, such and the same for ever to my friends : if cudgell'd, molten iron to the hammer is not so malleable ; but if I cudgel, bold as the thunder : is one to be blinded ? I am the lightning's flash : to be puff 'd up ? 284 Passages for Translation I am the wind to IjIow him to the bursting: choak'd, strangled ? I can do't and save a halter : would you break down his doors 1 Behold an earth- quake : open and enter them ? A battering ram : will you sit down to supper ? I 'm your guest, your very Fly to enter without bidding: would you move off? You'll move a well as soon: I'm for all work, and though the job were stabbing, betraying, false-accusing, only say. Do this ! and it is done : I stick at nothing ; they call me Thunder-bolt for my dispatch ; friend of my friends am I : let aftions speak me ; I'm much too modest to commend myself. R. CUMBERLAND l.() THE RIGHT USE OF RICHES WEAK is the vanity, that boasts of riches, for they are fleeting things ; were they not such, could they be yours to all succeeding time, 'twere wise to let none share in the possession : but if whate'er you have is held of fortune, and not of right inherent, why, my father, ■why with such niggard jealousy engross what the next hour may ravish from your grasp, and cast into some worthless favourite's lap ? Snatch then the swift occasion while 'tis yours ; put this unstable boon to nobler uses; foster the wants of men, impart your wealth and purchase friends ; 'twill be more lasting treasure, and, when misfortune comes, your best resource. R. CUMBERLAND 17 HOMO ES IF you, O Trophimus, and you alone of all your mother's sons have Nature's charter for privilege of pleasures uncontrolled, with full exemption from the strokes of fortune, and that some god hath ratified the grant, you then with cause may vent your loud reproach, for he hath broke your charter and betrayed you ; into Latin Comic Iambics 285 but, if you live and breathe the common air on the same terms as we do, then I tell you, and tell it in the tragic poet's words — of your philosopJiy you make no use, if you give place to accidental evils. — The sum of which philosophy is this — you are a man, and therefore Fortune's sport, this hour exalted and the next abased : you are a man, and, though by nature weak, by nature arrogant, climbing to heights that mock your reach and crush you in the fall: nor was the blessing you have lost the best of all life's blessings, nor is your misfortune the worst of its afflicflions ; therefore, Trophimus, make it not such by overstrained complaints, but to your disappointment suit your sorrow. • R. CUMBERLAND 18 PEACE— THE SOVEREIGN GOOD PHILOSOPHERS consume much time and pain, to seek the sovereign good ; nor is there one who yet hath struck upon it : Virtue some, and prudence some contend for, whilst the knot grows harder by their struggle to untie it. I, a mere clown, in turning up the soil have dug the secret forth: — All-gracious Jove! tis Peace, most lovely and of all beloved ; peace is the bounteous goddess, who bestows weddings and holidays and joyous feasts, relations, friends, wealth, plenty, social comforts and pleasures, which alone make life a blessing. R. CUiMBERLAND 19 RETORT FROM A MAN OF LOW BIRTH TO AN OLD WOMAN PRATING ABOUT HER ANCESTRY GOOD gossip, if you love me, prate no more ; what are your genealogies to me ? Away to those, who have more need of them ! let the degenerate wretches, if they can, dig up dead honour from their fathers' tombs, and boast it for their own— Vain empty boast ! when every common fellow, that they meet, if accident have not cut off the scroll, can shew a list of ancestry as long. 286 Passages for Translation, Sr'c. You call the Scythians barbarous, and despise them ; yet Anacharsis was a Scythian born ; and every man of a like noble nature, tho' he were moulded from an /Ethiop's loins, is nobler than your pedigrees can make him. R. CUMBERLAND 20 VIRTUE ALONE IS TRUE NOBILITY TIS only title thou disdain 'st in her, the which I can build up. Strange is it, that our bloods, of colour, weight and heat, poured all together, would quite confound distincSlion, yet stand off in differences so mighty : if she be all that is virtuous, (save what thou dislik'st a poor physician's daughter) thou dislik'st of virtue for the name : but do not so : from lowest place where virtuous things proceed, the place is dignified by the doer's deed : where great additions swell, and virtue none, it is a dropsied honour : good alone is good, without a name: vileness is so: the property by what it is should go not by the title. She is young, wise, fair ; in these to nature she's immediate heir; and these breed honour : that is honour's scorn, which challenges itself as honour's born, and is not like the sire : Honours best thrive, when rather from our acfls we them derive than our fore-goers : the mere word's a slave, deboshed on every tomb, on every grave ; a lying trophy, and as oft is dumb, where dust and damned oblivion is the tomb of honoured bones indeed. W. SHAKESPEARE NOTES § 9 § lO §19 § 35 §70 %r- §94 two stanzas from f/w Fountain, a Conversation. from Old Mortality. from lines composed at Grasmere; the Author having just read of the dissoUition of Fox being hourly expe(fi:ed. from Heart of Mid Lothian: 1. 4, comp. Minucius Felix Apolog. 1. 36, § 6 : lit qui viam terit, eo felicior, quo lev i or incedit, ita beatior in hoc ititiere vivendi qni paupertate se stchlevat, non sub divitiarjtt?i onei'e sitspirat : Lacftantius, Z)iz>. Inst. VII. I, § 20. written by Queen Elizabeth, while prisoner at Woodstock, with charcoal on a shutter See Percy's Reliqjies. ^Scripscram prius hoc de poesi niorali caput,'' says Sir William Jones in his Lecflures on Asiatic poetrj', p. 350, ^ qiiani scircni imde fabtdam hanc qua ab Addisono nostro etiani citatnr siunsisset Chardinus: sed legi earn nupcrrinie in Sadii opere perfedlissimo, quod Bustan sen Hortus inscribitur, et a Sadio ipso, poeta, si qitis alius, ingenioso, ittventam pit to: ipsius itaque elegantes versus citabo cum mea qnaliscunque sit ver- sione:' and after quoting the original with a literal Latin translation, he paraphrases thus : Rigante niolles imbre campos Persidis e nube in cequor lapsa pluvics guttula est, quce, cum modestus eloqui sineret ptidor, '■Quid hoc loci, inquit, quid rei misella sum? auo f)te repente, ah I quo redat^am sentio?' Cum se verecnndanti animiild sperneret, illam recepit gemmeo concha i7i sinn ; iandemque tenuis aquula fa(fla est unio : nunc in coronCi hcta Regis emicat docens, sit humili quanta laus modesties, from the Sainfs Tragedy. from the Cresphontes. 1. 3, an -KdOii. ttotI 7r\6oj'? 1. 4, 7ro\\6s ^k^o? Ahrens. 288 Notes % 98 I. 3, comp. Eurip. Fr. apiid Stobaiun, p. 185: orac 5' tS-gj TT/soy y^os ypfxivov two., \aiJ,irpLp T€ 7rXoi/ry Ka2 7^1161 yavpovfj.evov TovTov Tax^Tav vifxeaiv eudus irpoaZhKo.' iiraipeTai. yap p-u^ov, 'Iva p.d^op Tricryj. § 106 1. 3, tJie in-u fayiv, the true beauty: comp. Part i, § ■203, 1. 10 : The indiscriminate use of substantives and adjecftives was common in the older poetiy : traces of it may be found in such colloquial expressions as t/ie dark for darkness. § 107 1. I, culver, dove. § 112 1. S, fondly, foolishly: prevent, forestall. § 114 1. 6, /'///, voice, note: 1. 9, bird of hate, cuckoo. § 115 1. \o, Emathian conqueror: the story is told of Alexander the Great by yElian Var. Hist. XIII. 7; and by Pliny AW. Hist. VII. c>9. § 119 \. 11, to poison, compared to poison. § 174 1. 3, nae gowans glint, no daisies peep out: 1. 4, deeding, clothing: 1. 8, burnie, little rivulet: 1. 9, brae, declivity: 1. I a, cran^-euch, hoar-frost, § 196 1. I, bravery, finery. §200 1. 17, lightning-gem, the precious stone, commium, so called because it was supposed to be found where thunder had fallen. §210 1. 1, Jo, sweetheart: 1. 4, brent, smooth: 1. 7, pozo, head: 1. 10, thegither, together: 1. 11, cantie, cheerful. g -2 1 5 on the Lady Mary Villiers, compare § 80. § 220 1. 3, birks, birches: 1. 7, siller saughs, silver willows: 1. 10, breckans, ferns: 1. \'>„joiiks, nuis low. § 224 1. 7, maunds, baskets. S 225 1. 15, loonned, lived. § 249 1. II, eild, eld, old age: Iniss, bush : bield, shelter. § 280 Mrs Elizabeth Toilet, daughter of George Toilet, commis- sioner of the Navy in the reigns of King William and Queen Anne, and friend of Sir Isaac Newton, was authoress of a volume of poems, English and Latin, which were not pub- lished till after her death in 1754. See Nichols' Seledl Col- ledion, vol. VI. p. 64. § 323 from the Secular Masque : 1. 4, ivcxing, waxing. § 325 1- 9, leal, faithful: 1. i%fain, happy. § 327 the second stanza has been suppressed in the later editions of Wordsworth's poems. The first four verses in the earlier editions ran thus: Though by a sickly taste betrayed some may dispraise the lovely maid, with fearless pride I say that she is healthful, fleet and strong. Notes 289 § 328 from the Paradise of Daintie Devices: 1, 8, yelping, or yalping, crying. § 329 from the Speclator, no. 366, where it is given as a translation from a song in Scheffer's History of Lapland: 'it will be neces- sary to imagine, ' says the translator, ' that the author of this song, not having the liberty of seeing his mistress at her father's house, was in hopes of spying her at a distance in the fields.' Keble Pndedl. de poeiica: vi medicd, vol. i, p. 74, remarks: 'o7?ini nielle didciora suitt ea, qua Lap- ponico ciiidavi aiJiatori tribnuntiir: qiice eo quidein magis placent, quod inter nives et pruinas, extremo orbis angido, fiuitt obvia. ' § 333 'The subjecfb aftd simile,' in this beautiful Pindaric ode, 'are, as usual with Pindar, united. The various sources of poetry,' continues the Author, 'which give life and lustre to all it touches, are here described ; its quiet majestic progress enriching every subjecft (otherwise dry and barren) with a pomp of dicflion and luxuriant harmony of numbers ; and its more rapid and irresistible course, when swoln and hurried away by the conflicft of tumultuous passions:' 1. 13, power of harmony to calm the turbulent passions of the soul. The thoughts are borrowed from the first Pythian of Pindar. GRAY. .See § 409. § 334 power of harmony to produce all the graces of motion in the body. GRAY : 1. 1 7, Sd/XTrei 5' sttI iropcpvpirjai irapdrjcrt. (pQs ^pwTOS, Phiynichus apud AthenKum. gray. § 343 abttsed, mistaken, deceived. § 344 The scene of the ode is supposed to lie on the Thames near Richmond : 1. 6, aiiy harp, see note on § 264, Fol. Silv. Part i. ; 1. 19, whitening spire, Richmond Church, in which Thomson was buried, and in the neighbourhood of which he resided some time before his death, § 354 from the Davideis, Book i. § 355 Burke quotes this passage as a very fine example of the magnificence arising from a profusion of images, 07t the Subli??ie and Beautiful, Part ii. § 13: compare SiR W. Jones, Poeseos Asiaticce Contm. p. 244. § 357 1- 6, Corinthian, the capitals of Corinthian pillars being decorated with leaves : 1. 7, ticitter 70ords, the early chirping of birds in spring : 1. 12, echo lights, reflecfted : so Byron, Island V. : the spars . ' echo their dim light to the distant stars. § 359 from the Discourse concerning the Government of Oliver Cromwell. § 360 from the Ode upon King Charles' restoration and return. F. S. II. 19 290 Notes S i^z !• 3i ^"^Ti"', must, s/oiir, dust : 1. 9, glinted, peeped : 1. 1 3, zt/a'j, walls: 1. 14, bicld, shelter, comp. §249: 1. 16, histk, dry, barren. §370 from the Princess. §371 1. 7, awful, full of reverence : 1. 12, -whist, i. q. whisted, hushed: 1. 19, one zvay, i.e. in one direcftion, towards where the infant Deity lay : 1. 21, fui' all, notwithstanding all. § 372 1. 4, than, i. q. then : 1. 5, Pan, used by Spenser and other poets as an epithet of the true God, the Lord oi all : 1. 14, noise, concert: 1. 14, as took, so that it charmed: 1. 18, hollow round, lunar sphere. § 376 Miss Ferrer was afterwards married to Dr Peckard, Master of Magdalen College, Cambridge, 1781 — 1797. S 380 from Flelga. § 384 1. 9, alate, lately. g 400 The Hermias to whom the ode is addressed was Tvpawos of the cities of Atarneus and Assus in Mysia ; he invited Aristotle, for whom he entertained a warm attachment, to his Court, B.C. 347. § 401 1. I, larSiv 7ra\tfJ.j3diJ.ovi 65oi)s, de mulieribus Icrrbv ambi- entibus. Compare Jacob's P)el. Epigr. Anthol. viii. loS. : where the weaver is si)oken of as irapicrTidLOi dtvev/j-ifij ; Hom. //. I. 31, iaToi' eiroixofJ-^i-V- 1- 2, oiKoptai eraipai, irquales qucs domi inanent: 1. 6, rhv 5e o-iy-y/cotroj' etc., concubitorem auteni siiavem, modicum palpehris somnum constimcfis incumbeiitem (in palpebras delapsum), h. e. puella turn demum, ubi tutas credebat pecudes, feris in lustra ante solis ortum regressis, somno vacabat paulisper. DISSEN. 1. 10, e/c ixeyapoiv (sc. aep-vov dvTpov) irpoaevvewe, ' called him out of his abode.' g 403 from the first Nemean ode : 1. i, i^tto cnrXdyx"'^'^, ex utero matris, cf § 4 11, 1. i: 1. 14, /JAoj, 'fear,' cf Horn.//. XI. 269. §404 1. 8, ira\iyy\iji.a, vi mariuuin: 1. 5, Kuvkv irapa. Siairav, inopein propter viclum: 1. 7, Tol 5' ' but the others, (i.e. the wicked, in opposition to the ecrXoi otrives ^xaipov euopKlais, who are Tifxioi. deuv, 'honoured of the gods,') endure a life too dreadful to look upon': 1. 8, iarpis eKaripwdL, 'thrice in this world and thrice in the spirit-world,' iT6\iJ,a(Tav, sitstinuei-imt : 1. 10, iTiCko-v At6s 656j', pcragunt yovis iter ad regiam Satttrni: Saturn is said to govern here, because the Golden Age was under his reign, from the resemblance of the condition of mankind then to that of the blessed now in the other world : Notes 291 ]. 1 1, vaa[id\\r], ordiaris : Verte simnl ac choros regcntia exordia eantiiiim iuoriun siisciias el ordiris. DISSEN. 1. 8, yXecpdpuiv i.q. jBXecpdpoii' : 1. 9, 'but he in his slumber heaves his supple back, o'ei^powered by thy vibrations' (pt- ■n-dlcri, cf. § 417, 1. 21): 1. 12, KTjXa. tela citham : 1. 13, d}i.-tdas dXoxw, 'Sidov aX6xov, i.e. Theugenis: 1. 10, dvdpdois ■7riTrXois = dvSpeiovs ne-rrXovs : 1. n, ppdKT}, pdKtj : vSdTiva, thalassina in reference to the colour, {vide Ovid, A. A. III. 177) or as others explain, pellucida, in reference to the texture : 1. 12, Sis Tre^awr' avroivu, (si per Tkeugenidevi esset), bis quotannis oves tonderi deberent: 1. 15, non enim volebam te dome iribuere desidiosce : 1. 17, tb? E^iJpas ' kpx^<^^ '■ Notum est Archia duce coloniam Corintho missam Syracusis dedisse originem, unde Idyll, xvi., Syracuse appellantur 'E^upaTov iie qni latnit bene vixit, 308 Blindness, Milton's sonnet on his own, 112 Blossoms, to, 270 Blyth, to the river, 482 Boy, the mountain-boy, 184: the Greek, 363 Bowl, the flowing, 167 Britannia, song to, 51, 443 Browne, William, sonnet to, 33 C Calm after a storm, description of, 200 Castara, the description of, 281 Cato's soliloquy, 5" Ceres, the revenge of, 418 Charity, 26 Charles II, king, the restoration of. 427 Cheerfulness, 28 Child, lines to a, embracing his mo- ther, 157 Childhood, scenes of, revisited, 155: the poet's recollections of, 253 Chloris ill, 73 Christmas carol, 293 Christ, resurredlion of, 510 Christian warfare, 475 Cicada, to the, 68 Clyde, to the, 43 Comforter, the, 209 Conqueror, the last, 206 Constancy, 22, 511 Consumption, sonnet to, 135 Contemplation, to, 45, 148, 3^4. 49' Content and rich, 38, 39, 4°. 45 Content, sweet, 124 Contentment, 43 : hymn to, 235, 23G, 278 Index of Siibje^s 295 Contrast, the, 94 Coral inse(ft, to the, 214 Corinna's going a Maying, 520 Cromwell's return from Ireland, 447 Culver, the, 107 Cumberland, Lady Margaret, Coun- tess of, 232, 233 Cypress, the wreath of, 336 CvRENE, 401 D Daffodils, to, 181 Daisy, to the, 211, 212: to a mountain, 365, 366 David's supplication to Michal, 150, • 151 : lamentation over Saul and Jo- nathan, 498 Day, the longest, 301 Death, to, 476: of the good, 13: em- blem of, 86: invocation of, 138 : night- piece on, 144: of a son 182, of a young lady, 1 86-— 189: the weapons of, 206 : memorials of, 291 : the great leveller, 361, 362 Decease, release, 444 Deianira, the combat for, 415 Despondency, 165 Diana, hymn to, 267 : song <-*■, 323 Dirge, 288, 346: a mothei's over her child, 204, 289 : at sea, 287 . Disappointment, on, 367 Distaff, the, 412 Dominvs domitiaiitivtit, 202 Doom, the common, 206 Drinking song, 69 Duty, the path of, 20 E Earth, bounty of the, 63 Echo, song to, 146, 159: echoes, 260 Ecstasy, the, 389 Electra, the lament of, 417 Elegy, 185 : on Captain Henderson, 455 Elizabeth's song, 70 Elysium, 227—229 ; description of, 405 Enchantment, the, 60 England, caution to, 85 : lines address- ed to, 145 : complaint of the miseries of, 359 Enid's song, 67 Epitaph, on the Lady Mary Villiers, 80, 215: of the living author, 246 Eton College, ode on a distant prospect of, 456 Evening hymn, 5: the hour of, 169: evening repose, 180 : expostulation, the, 474 Extreme of love or hate, 2i5 Falcon, the, 386 Fame, vanity of, 100, loi, 102, 103, 432 : indifference to, 251 Fancy, ode to, 302 Farewell, a, 208 Farm, the poet on leaving his, 340 Field flowers, 514 Firmament, the, 393 — 4 Flowers from a Roman wall, 13 Fortune, to, 29 : Enid's song to, 67 : proof against, 235, 236: her spites quelled by patience, 284 : the uncer-. tainty of, 434 Gaiety, 82 God, love of, 425, insensibility to the mercies of, 244 : address to, 339 Good, the, alone great, 321 : their hap- piness in a future state, 405, 428 : death of the, 13 Gratitude, its sweetness, 11, 428 Grace, native, 488 Grave, 234 Greece, modern, 263 Grief and beauty, 75 H HallaM, Arthur Henry, to the me- mory of, 305, 306, 307 Hamlet, the, 347, 348 Happiness, 308 : true, 468 Heaven, 154, 265, 309, 483 : in pros- pect, 242, 243 Heber. Bishop, verses to his wife, 320 Hellas, the restoration of, 158, 275 : sorrows of, for the loss of her heroes before Troy, 406 296 Index of StibjeHs Henderson, elegy on Captain Mat- thew, 455 Hercules, the birth and infancy of, 403, 404 Hermeas of Atarnse, ode to, 400 Herrigk, dialogue between, and Ama- ryllis, 224 Hezekiah's song of thanksgiving, 497 Hohenlinden, 457 Home, 74 Hope, 137, 265 HoRATius CocLES, 177 Humility, 23, 41 Hymn after foreign travels, 87 : even- ing, 5 Iamus, 411 Ideal, the pursuit of the, 229 II pciiseroso, 180 Incarnation, the, 303, 304 Independence, J87 Infant, to a dying, 318 Ingratitude, 147 /;/ mcmoriain, 205, 305 — 7 Insensibility, happy, 377 Invocation of the spirit of delight, 258, 259 Ion, morning song of, 421 lona, 269 I*er, the, 300 Israel, lament for, 6 : destrudlion of, 285 : the exodus of, 354 Jerusalem, modern, 449 Jew, song for the wandering, 199: God's judgment against the Jews, 286, 494 John Anderson, 210 Juys fly fast, 8 : visions of departed, 21 Justice, the triumph of, 426 K Kei'ler, John, prayer of, 311 King, the true, 358 Laius, the murderer of, 414 Lament, a, 183 Lamentations, 501 — 504 Land o' the leal, the, 325 Lapland love-song, 329 Lares, hymn to the, 231 Lawrence, Mr, sonnet to, 113 Leicester, to my Lord of, 266 Liberty, ode to, 471 — 3 Life, the good, long, 30, 352—353 : through death, 35 : desire of long, 76 : the shortness and uncertainty of, 153, 335 : the means to attain a happy, 129: the winter of, 249: the cha- racter of a happy, 308 : the shortness of and uncertainty of riches, 316, 317: the solitary, 319; the praise of a religious, 391, 392: the quiet, 319: the country, 343 Light, hymn to, 193 — 197 Lines on returning a blank book, 237, 238 Litany of the Holy Spirit, 209 Little is best, 19 LoFFT, Capel, sonnet to, 134 Loss, the, 176 London, 1802, 126 Lotos-eaters, the, 99 Louisa, 327 Love, true, 58 : tyranny of, 61 : univer- sal rule of, 141 : yAvKi/Vt/cpo?, 97 : and time, 110: and music, 179: philoso- phy of, 198 : claim to, 226 : young, 2i8: faithful, 280; immortality of, 310: love-song, 329, 330: immoderate, 420: mediocrity in, reje 345 Timber, the, 349 Time, 223 : breedeth change, 384 : and love, no To-morrow, 466 Traitor, the, 173 Tranquillity, 71 Treasures of the deep, the, 276 Trojan women, lament of, on the down- fall of Troy, 423 Troubles, on the folly of making, 54, 168, 388 Tyre, prophecj' of destruftion of, 493 Venice, on the extiniflion of the re- public of, 129 : to, 439 Venus, to, 369 Vicissitude, pleasure of, 382 — 3 Violet, to the, 42 : to violets, 140 Virtue, beauty of, 62: man's surest stay, 328 : alone makes difference between men and beasts, 433 Vita est benefaclis extendenda, 352, 353 U Ulysses and the Siren, 463 Unseen, faith in the, 479 Urn, on a Grecian, 3. w War, the scourge of, 407 : the spoils of, 413 Warfare, Christian, 472 Warrior, the, to his dead bride, 285 : the falcon on the wrist of the, 386 Waterfall, the, 217 Welcome, 445 Winds, October, 174 : ode to the west wind, 481 Winter, 461: the approach of, 139: on the winter solstice 1740, 149 : the winter's evening, 261 : the winter of life, 249: the pleasantness of, 297: ode, to, 458 Wish, a, 257 : Cowley's, 160, 510 Wolfram's song, 81 Woman, 290 World, the, 49 : enmity with the, 161, 162, 163 : world's wanderers, the, 44 Year, the, 192 Youth, 283 INDEX OF FIRST LINES A PAGE A dew-drop, falling on the wild sea-wave . lo 'A \i.kv ovO' to'Ttoi' 7raAtju/3ajixov9 €(liC\r}ut when through all the infernal bounds But who the melodies of morn can tell By the streams that ever flow Call it not vain : — they do not err Calm is the morn without a sound Can I cease to care .... Can Love again o'er this sad breast Captain Bodabill, why muse you so . Captain or Colonel, or Knight in arms Care, thou canker of all joys Care-charmer sleep, son of the sable Night "^axfii /Jioi, 'Paj;iia, Bvydrrip 'Apijo? Carthage ! I love thee — thou hast run Cease, rude Boreas, blust'ring railer Child of the Spring! thou charming flower Kpva^a (fyopixiyS, 'AttoAAcoi/o^ ical IottKoko fxbiv Cicada! thou who, tipsy with the dews Come, gentle Venus, and assuage Come, little infant, love me now Come, peace of mind, delightful guest Come take a woodland walk with me Come, worthy Greeke, Ulysses, come Consider ye and call for the mourning women D Daughter of Jove, relentless power Dear mansion, once my father's home Dear native brook ! wild streamlet of the West Doth then the world go thus, doth all thus move Apo^atojt' 5' ore 7roAv7rAai^>iT(Oi' .... Dry those fair, those crystal eyes 'Eycj Kal Slol fxouVa? ....... 'Eyw ^e irXoKafj-ov ovaSeTOt^ ..... Et Ta SoKpv' Tiixiif Tcoi' KaKiZv -qv <})dpfxaKOv EtpTji/a PadvnXovTS Kal . . . . EI5 opo5, p-ia &i /SpOTOi? ei\epid' a'AaKara S(Spov 'Adavaa<; Gloomy winter's now awa' Go up and watch the new-born rill God that madest earth and heaven Goe find some whispering shade neare Arne or Poe Gold I 've none, for use or show . Gone are the glorious Greeks of old . Good gossip, if you love me Good sir, come from the doc/r H Had I a cave on some wild distant shore Hail, Memon,', hail ! in thy exhaustless mine Hail, old patrician trees, so great and good Hail ! sacred thou to hallowed joy Hail to thee, blithe Spirit .... Haply when from those eyes Happy that first white age ! when we Happy the man, whose wish and care Hark ! hark ! the lark at heaven's gate sings Hark ! how the birds do sing Hark, how through many a melting note . Hark ! whence that rushing sound He is not moved with all the thunder-cracks He that is down need fear no fall He that loves a rosy cheek .... He that of such a height hath built his mind He that thirsts for glory's prize . He who hath bent him o'er the dead He who is good is happy . . . • Hear ye this word which I take up against you Here, as to shame the temples decked Here new-built tovvns, aspiring high . High on a rock, whose castled shade How are thy servants blest, O Lord How calm, how beautiful comes on How (lull ! to hear the voice of those How happy is he born and taught How now, sir ? is your merry humour altered 219 270 86 42 2q8 196 88 126 2 115 I i^>5 285 281 17 125 239 235 222 96 232 138 4 256 142 53 94 6 II 94 209 267 237 2 III 182 152 30 79 61 132 276 302 Index of First Lines How short is Life's uncertain space How sweet it were, hearing tlie downward stream How sweet the answer Echo nialces . How was he honoured in the midst of the people Hues of the rich unfolding morn .... Hush, sweet Lute, thy songs remind me I I 'm wearing aw.a', Jean I did but look and love awhile I envy not their hap .... I feel no care for coin I 've roamed through many a weary round X leave mortality's low sphere I love all that thou lovest . I met Louisa in the shade . I praised the Earth, in beauty seen I saw a falling leaf soon strew I sung the joyful P^ean clear I travelled among unknown men I view thee on the calmy shore I wish I was by that dim Lake . I will meet thee on the hill I would I were a careless child Tf aught of oaten stop or pastoral song If in the fight my arm was strong If thoU; my love, wert by my side If to a rock from rains he fiy If to be absent were to be . If weeping eyes could wash away If wine and music have the power If you, O Trophimus, and you alone Ill-busied man ! why should'st thou take such care In a drear-nighted December In all thy need, be thou possest In childhood, when with eager eyes . In doubtful twilight Nature sleeps In glowing youth he stood beside In the calm spring, when the earth bears In the downhill of life, when I find I' m declinin. In the hour of my distress . In time we see the silver drops In vain with various arts they strive . In yonder grove a Druid lies It must be so — Plato, thou reason's! well It is not Beauty I demand . It is not growing like a tree It is not that my lot is low It tells the conqueror .... It was, and still my care is It would less vex distressed man J John Anderson my jo, John . K KeCa'o9 ayi'bi' ...... O Queen of numbers, once again O sire of storms ! whose savage ear O snatch'd away in beauty's bloom O Swallow, Swallow, flying, flying South . O thou by heaven ordained to be O thou my lyre, awake, arise O thou, that prattling on thy pebbled way . O thou ! who bad'st thy turtles bear . O thou, who by the light of Nature dost enkindle O voice divine, whose heavenly strain O, weep not for the gathered rose O wild West wind, thou breath of Autumn's beii O you, the Virgins nine .... Ocfiober winds, wi' biting breath . O'er the rolling waves we go . . . Of holier joy he sang, more true delight Of power and honour the deceitful light Oft on the troubled ocean's face . Oft with its fie'-y force .... Oft would the rjryads of these woods rejoice Oh, deem not they are blest alone Oh, Fortune, how thy restless wavering state Oh ! from your sacred seats look down Oh golden link connecting man with man . Oh, how hard it is to find .... Oh ! sacred Memory, tablet of the heart Oh ! that we two were maying . On Linden, when the sun was low Once did She hold the gorgeous east in fee Only a little more 0(fte\f TTpoTipov al9epa Svvai. fidyau . Or lead me where amid the tranquil vale . Or when the winter torrent rolls Orpheus with his lute made trees PAGE 149 257 66 187 41 218 64 '99 128 228 70 170 122 55 249 173 133 166 4 248 28 66 99 252 137 20 186 260 157 8 28 8 34 127 24 228 47 153 192 256 III 15 Phillis is my only joy Philosophers consume much time and pain Phyllis ! why should we delay Play, Phoebus, on thy lute . . . . Plead you to me, fair dame Ilpbs evdvOeiJiOv S' ore ^vdi/ 116 285 134 I 277 194 Queen and Huntress, chaste and fair ( )ueen of fresh flowers . no 176 Rarely, rarely, comest thou . . . , Rest on your battle-fields, ye brave Retire, and timely, from the world, if ever , Risest thou thus, dim dawn, again 106 155 24 131 Sacred Goddess, Mother Earth . Say, is your tardy master now at hand 19 274 Index of First Lines 305 Sees not my friend, what a deep snow Ser\'ant of God ! weil done She had left all on earth for him She shall be sportive as the fawn She sighs — like winds at eve . Shepherds all, and maidens fair Shepherds, rise and shake off sleep Short is our span ; then why engage Shout for the mighty men . Sing his praises that doth keep Sleep, Ambition ! Rage, expire ! Sleep ! — we give thee to the wave Sleep, little baby, sleep Smiles on past Misfortune's brow So much a stranger my severer Muse So restless Cromwell could not cease So, we'll go no more a roving So, when the wisest poets seek . So, where the silent streams of Liris glide Softly gliding as I go Soldier, go — but not to claim Sometimes up jn the diamond rocks they leant Star that bringest home the bee Still is the toiling hand of Care Stop in your wind, sir ; tell me this Strew on her roses, roses . . Such is the fate of artless maid . Summer's last lingering rose is blown Sun-girt City ! thou hast been Supreme Divinity ! who yet Sure thou didst flourish once Sweet are the harmonies of Spring Sweet daughter of a rough and stormy sire Sweet Echo, sleeps thy vocal shell Sweet Echo, sweetest ny"^ph, that livest unseen Sweet evening hour ! sweet evening hour Sweet Iser ! were thy sunny realm Sweet to the gay of heart is Summer's smile Sweet warriour ! when s'nall I have peace with you Sweetest love, I do not go . Swift as light thoughts their empty career Swifter far than summer's flight Swiftly turn the murmuring wheel Swiftly walk over the western wave PAGE 181 185 21 118 27 79 14 62 33 179 121 137 178 10 220 24 163 260 213 243 251 124 187 275 80 167 51 214 80 157 126 64 59 54 64 127 49 38 230 76 70 112 247 To niei' Ka.T oiKOVS c