CORNELL UNIVERSITY LIBRARY Cornell University Library PN 6109.G7T99 Dublin translations into Greek and Latin 3 1924 027 241 532 The original of this book is in the Cornell University Library. There are no known copyright restrictions in the United States on the use of the text. http://www.archive.org/cletails/cu31924027241532 DUBLIN UNIVERSITY PRESS SERIES. DUBLIN TRANSLATIONS INTO GREEK AND LATIN VERSE EDITED BY ROBERT YELVERTON TYRRELL FELLOW OF TRINITY COLLEGE DUBLIN AND REGIUS PROFESSOR OF GREEK DUBLIN: HODGES FIGGIS & CO. GRAFTON-STREET LONDON : LONGMANS GREEN & CO. PATERNOSTER-ROW 1890 BY R. Y. TYRRELL. BACCHAE of BTTBIPrpES. London : Longmans 8tCo., 1871. SCIIiES GIiOEIOSTTS OF PliATTTTTS. London : Macmillan & Co. (ist ed., i88i ; and ed., 1885 ; 3rd ed., 1889). TBOADES of EITBIPIBES. Dublin ; Browne and Nolan, 1889 (ist. ed., 1881 ; 2nd ed., 1884). ACHAKNIANS OF AHISTOPHAITES :— Trans- lated into English Verse. London : Longmans and Co., 1883. THE OOBRESPONDEirOE OF Bt. TTTLLIUS CICEKO. Vol. I. London: Longmans & Co. (ist ed., 1879; 2nd ed. 1885). Vol. II., 188S. Vol. III., 1890. Printed ai The University Press, Duhliu. TO THE PROVOST, AND TO THE SOCIETY OF THE HOLY AND UNDIVIDED TRINITY NEAR DUBLIN IS DEDICATED. PREFACE, This is the first collection which has ever been made of Dublin Greek and Latin Verses. In 1867 some translations by myself and two friends were published under the title Hesperidum Susurrl; and in 1869 I set on foot a terminal College maga- zine, called Kottabos, in which translations into Greek and Latin appeared, together with original English, Greek, and Latin verses, translations from ancient and modern languages, and a few light essays in prose. Most of the translations now brought to- gether have already appeared in Hesperidum Susurri and Kottabos. They are all by Dublin men. With one or two exceptions, all the contributors are, or have been, Scholars of the House. Some of the translators are now connected, or have been PREFACE. connected, with other Colleges and Universities. Messrs. Cullinan, Leech, and Ridgeway are Fel- lows of their Colleges in Cambridge. Mr. Davies is Professor of Latin in Galway ; Mr. Crossley is Professor of Greek in Belfast; and Mr. Boulger is Professor of Greek in Cork. But I am authorized by these gentlemen to state that their verses are, in the fullest sense of the word, Dublin Translations, written under Dublin influences, and as the result of Dublin training. I suppose no apology is needed for a collection like this. Whatever opinion may be held on the question whether versification should be requii-ed as a condition of success at examinations for prizes and honors in classics, it can hardly be denied that it is desirable to preserve the best efforts of those who have attained skill in this branch of classical study. In truth, the more verse-writing is disused as a test, the more reason does there appear to be for the publication of books like this. If the com- poser cannot secure as heretofore Scholarships and Fellowships by the exercise of his art, it is fair PREFACE. that he should at least have the chance to recom- mend himself thereby to the good opinion of scholars, men of letters, and men of taste. In Trinity College, Dublin, verse-writing is not disused as a test. Indeed, it never was more en- couraged than it is now. But verse-writing does not, and never did, hold with us anything like the place which it used to hold in the Cambridge Tripos. Scholarships, Senior Moderatorships, even Fellowships, may be got with little or no skill in verse composition. But at all these examinations the marks are so allocated as to give a very considerable advantage to the skilful composer, and I think it would be difificult for a student to steadily maintain a position at the head of the men of his year without verse-writing. I have had throughout the invaluable aid of my friend Professor Davies, and some of the principal contributors have from time to time favoured me with suggestions. But I was not able to furnish proofs to the various contributors — chiefly because they were widely scattered at the time when I was viii PREFACE. making the compilation, and it was desirable that its publication should not be too long delayed. I must therefore make myself, and not the contri- butors, responsible for any errors which may be found. ROBERT Y. TYRRELL. 4, Trin. Coll., Dublin, November, 18S.2. INDEX OF FIRST LINES translations into (Bxtzk, If you go on thus you will kill yourself . How now, my Lord ! why do you keep alone Hither came at noon Mournful CEnone . Die Sonne tout nach alter Weise . O unexpected stroke, worse than of death Nimble mischance, that art so light of foot Child, if a man serve law through all his life Though I could 'scape shot -free at London Ye shining hosts ...... The king is kind ; and, weU we know, the king Can I cease to care ..... Glorious Orb ! the idol Of early nature But, as he walk'd. King Arthur panted hard Great honours are great burdens ; but on whom Her arms across her breast she laid O well for him whose Will is strong Had I beheld That sacrilege . Now is the winter of our discontent You aU look strangely on me ; and you most O gentlemen, see, see ! dead Henry's wounds Thy voice is heard thro' rolling drums . Shakspkare PAGE 2 Shakspeark 6 Tennyson 12 Goethe 18 Milton 22 Shakspeare. 26 Swinburne 28 Shakspeare 30 COWPER 34 Shakspeare 36 Burns 40 Byron 42 Tennyson 46 Ben Jonson 52 Tennyson 54 Tennyson 56 Talfourd 58 Shakspeare 62 Shakspeare 64 Shakspeare 68 Tennyson 72 INDEX OF FIRST LINES. Then this most wretched father went his way Shall all thy mother's hopes lie in one tomb Where Claribel low-lieth But now farewell. I am going a long way . Early wert thou talien, Mary Oh, that this too, too solid flesh would melt Ye quenchless stars ! so eloquently bright Liest thou here so low, the child of one Death closes all ; but something ere the end Comrae avec irreverence In Love, if Love be Love, if Love be ours Leucippus, thou art shot through with a shaft eine edle Himmelsgabe ist . This is no answer, thou unfeeling man Une jeune guenon cueillit But I remember As Saint Kevin he was walkin' My dearest love, since thou wilt go Thou see'st it with a lovelorn maiden's eyes . 1 have of late (but wherefore I know not) •Relentless walls ! whose darksome round contains But as they left the darkening heath Here a sheer hulk lies poor Tom Bowling Strew on her roses, roses This is strange : your father's in some passion Why did you melt your waxen man, Sister Helen The flower that smiles to-day to-morrow dies Had'st thou no poison mix'd, no sharp-ground knife Then tenfold round the body The roar of battle rose The beauty of Israel is slain upon thy high places . Meine Ruh' ist hin Abhorred slave, Which any print of goodness wilt not take Three children sliding on the ice . Come on, i' God's name, once more toward our father's PAGE Longfellow 74 Shakspkare 76 Tennyson 78 Tennyson 80 Aytoun 82 Shakspeare 84 Montgomery 86 Tennyson 90 Tennyson 94 Moliere 96 Tennyson 98 Beau.&Flet. 100 Schiller 102 Shakspeare 106 Florian 112 Shelley 114 Anon. 118 Herrick 124 Coleridge 126 Shakspeare 128 Pope 130 Scott 134 DiBDIN 136 Arnold 140 Shakspeare 142 Rossetti 146 Shelley 156 Shakspeare 160 Macaulay 162 2 Samuel 164 G-OETHE 166 Shakspeare 170 G. GURTON 172 Shakspeare 174 INDEX OF FIRST LINES. Commend me to my loving countrymen And after these things I saw four angels Est in Carpathio Neptuni gurgite vates . Willkommen, schSner Jiingling How now, my lord ? why do you keep alone . In these deep solitudes and awful cells . You have bestowed on me a second life If it were done, when 'tis done, then 'twere well worship the king, all glorious above Whither away so fast, Aristodemus Strengthen ye the feeble hands Well, though it torture me, 'tis but the same What if this cursed hand Lo, I stand Here on this brow's crown of the city'i There was a king in Thule .... 1 see a man's life is a tedious one . This shalt thou Sustain not, nor thy son endure to Make no deep scrutiny Into her mutiny . Come, is the bride ready to go to church Here she lies a pretty bud To be, or not to be : that is the question Shall all thy mother's hopes lie in one tomb . FAGB . Shakspeare 178 . Rev. VII. 1-3 182 . Virgil 184 . Schiller 188 . Shakspeare 190 . Pope 194 . Beaumont 196 Shakspeare 198 . Grant 200 . Symonds 204 . Isaiah 210 Byron 212 Shakspeare 216 s head Swinburne 220 Goethe 222 Shakspeare 226 see Swinburne 230 . Hood 234 . Shakspeare 238 . Herrick 238 . Shakspeare 240 Shakspeare 246 ^Translations into Hatin. O you chorus of indolent reviewers Where, then, ah ! where shall poverty reside Billy Taylor was a brisk young fellow Or, when the winter torrent roUs Underneath the sod low-lying Call it not vain : they do not err Thus the ideas, as well as children . Your hand is cauld as snaw, Annie Tennyson 248 Goldsmith 250 Incert. 254 Southey 258 Anon. 260 Scott 262 Locke 264 Aytoun 266 INDEX OF FIRST LINES. Sweet Western "Wind . . ... Fair the face of orient day Come live with me, and be my love Ye have not sowed in vain But, as the devil would have it . . . Meantime o'er rocky Thrace and the deep vales How calm, how beautiful comes on Armour rusting in his halls I am glad I am so acquit of this tinderbox An arch accountant here is laid ' You are old. Father WiUiam,' the young man said Thyrsis, when we parted, swore Of all the girls that are so smart . Say, cruel Iris, pretty rake . ... Few the words that I have spoken ' Oh ! it's time I should speak to your father' Methinlis I fain would lie by the lone sea What ! while our arms can wield these blades When lovely woman stoops to folly A plague of my master . Come, old friend ! sit down and listen Underneath this marble herse Come not, when I am dead Strew on her roses, roses O many are the beauteous isles A widow bird sat mourning for her love How is 't, ray noble lord Push off the boat . Thee Winter in the garland wears Stay now thy hand Moral improvement Oh, the praties they are small Now all these charms, that beauteous grace In Beauty or Wit .... PAGE Herrick 268 Burns 270 Donne 272 Lyra Angl, 274 Shakspeare 276 Thompson 280 Moore 282 Wordsworth 284 Shakspeare 286 Incert. 288 L. Carroll 290 Gray 294 Carey 296 Goldsmith 302 Kennedy 304 Lover 306 B. Cornwall 308 Moore 310 Goldsmith 312 Dryden 314 Longfellow 316 Ben Jonson 320 Tennyson 322 Arnold 324 Wilson 326 Shelley 328 Shakspeare 330 George Eliot 332 Wordsworth 334 Incert. 336 Incert. 338 Incert. 340 Dryden 342 Pope 344 INDEX OF FIRST LINES. Henceforward, too, the powers that tend the soul . The merchant to secure his treasure Glaucopis forsakes her own . Poor tree ! a gentle mistress placed thee here Tears, idle tears, I know not what they mean This only grant me, that my means may lie . Thou sleep'st, soft silken flower, would I were Sleep Break, break, break Methinks I am batten'd well of late, grown lusty When we for age could neither read nor write Why, why repine, my pensive friend The mountain-ash deck'd with autumnal berries When Zephyr waves his balmy wings . Sweet smiling village, loveliest of the lawn . Thy braes were bonny. Yarrow stream . Here lies our mutton-eating king . Go forth ! for she is gone Led by the jocund train of vernal hours When some brisk youth, the tenant of a stall The rose, that in the springtide ventures forth He is gone on the mountain . The fair breeze blew, the white foam flew A literary lady She took my flowers with simple grace Fame, wisdom, love, and power were mine Here she lies, a pretty bud ... Me gentle Delia beckons from the plain When the Devil was sick in bed He rose at dawn, and, fired with hope There were two birds sat on a stone As the moon's soft splendour Come dowm, O maid, from yonder mountain height Why, Damon, with the forward day At the mid hour of night, when stars are weeping, I fly PAGE Tennyson 346 Prior 348 Lytton 350 Carlisle 352 Tennyson 354 Cowley 356 Merivale 358 Tennyson 360 Fletcher 362 Waller 364 Landor 366 Wordsworth 368 Hemans Goldsmith Logan Rochester Hemans lovibond Byron Graves Scott Coleridge Incert Hartley Byron Herrick Pope Incert Tennyson G. Gurton Shelley Tennyson Sewell Moore 370 372 374 378 380 382 384 386 392 394 396 398 400 404 406 408 410 412 416 418 INDEX OP FIRST LINES. How seldom, friend, a good great man inherits And in a moment after, wild Limours . Come, give me back my blossoms . The world's great age begins anew I no longer know my own house . Here's a bottle and an honest friend But their way . . ... Which when his ladie saw, she follow'd fast . No fish stir in our heaving net Why slumbers Gifibrd .' once was ask'd in vain There were three sailors, of Bristol city The world's a bubble, and the life of man What needs my Shakspeare, for his honoured bones My pipe is lit ; my grog is mix'd Our life is carried with too strong a tide The bride is dead ! the bride is dead Idleness is a stream which flows slowly on . Dear as remembered kisses after death . The frail flowers are dying . O thou hollow ship, that bearest . We sat on the steps, for the evening was warm There is not in the wide world a vaUey so sweet By your truth she shall be true Go up and watch the new-bom rill Yes, let me like a soldier fall . . Lady Clara Vere de Vere You ask me, wondering, why I sing She had left all on earth for him . Poor tree ! a gentle mistress placed thee here Coleridge PAGE 420 Tennyson 422 BONAR 424 .Shelley 426 Goldsmith 428 Burns 430 Milton 432 Spenser 438 Anon. 440 Byron 442 Thackeray 444 Bacon 448 Milton 452 Hood 454 Cowley 462 B. Cornwall 464 Spectator 466 Tennyson 468 Todhunter 470 Aytoun 474 Putnam 476 Moore 478 Browning 480 Keble 482 FlTZBALL 484 Tennyson 486 Anon. 492 Houghton 494 Carlisle 496 INDEX OF FIRST LINES. JFurtijer translations into (greefe. PAGE They've lost some gallant gentlemen Anon. 497 Come, lovely and soothing Death . W. Whitman 498 There once was a lady of Russia . E. Lear 500 The glories of our birth and state ... . Shirley 502 When hungry fowl go roosting soon . . . L. Collins 504 Ho ! fiE me a flagon as deep as you please . W. Melville 506 My name is Caius Marcius ... . . Shakspeare 508 Yet once more, O ye laurels ! and once more . . Milton 510 There rose a hill that none but man could climb . . Tennyson 512 Yes ! slain like Hector, smitten in the throat . . Tyrrell 5X4 Love, what ail'd thee to leave life that was made lovely, we thought, with love Swinburne 516 LIST OF CONTRIBUTORS. [The numbers indicate the page on which each composition begins.] Allen, Samuel, 101, 263, 281, 333, 351, 367, 389, 463, 496. Barry, William R., 347. Beare, J. I., 499, 507, 515. Benson, Ralph Sillery, 295. BouLGEK, Edward Vaughan, 271. Brady, Thomas John Bellingham, 75, 251, 267, 283, 289, 305, 325, 335, 353, 363, 373, 399, 407, 429, 441, 465, 475, 481, 483, 495. Bury, John B., 147, 167, 517. Collins, Richard Henn, 381. Crossley, Hastings, 35, 69, 75, 171, 261, 265, 275, 291, 309, 329, 341, 359, 387, 409, 425, 445. CuLLiNAN, Maxwell Cormac, 7, 29, 47, 65, 95, 115, 185, 197, 259, 343, 369. Davies, John Fletcher, 3, 37, 57, 77, 99, 113, 129, 143, 161, 173, 191, 199, 239, 244, 249, 285, 317, 337, 365, 371, 375, 401, 419, 433, 433, 469. LIST OF CONTRIBUTORS. De Butts, George, 51. Dickie, John, 489. DowDALL, Latincelot, 131, 195, 205, 221, 231. Flemyng, William W., 41, 81, 137, 211, 239. Gabbett, "William, 423, 439. Graves, Alfred Percival, 313. GwYNN, Edward, 513. Hyde, John Oldfield, 471. Hitchcock, Francis, 505. Ingram, John Kells, 349. JoYNT, Albert E., 503. Keating, John, 383. Keene, Charles Haines, 189. Kelly, William H., 487. Leech, Henry Brougham, 165, 246. Maguire, Thomas, 19, 43, 135, 241, 311, 391, 421, 497. Hartley, John, 395. Mills, Townsknd, 79, 91, 365, 361. Morgan, William Moore, 23, 413. Murray, John, 479. Palmer, Arthur, 83, 297, 321, 455. LIST OF CONTRIBUTORS. Quill, Albert, 27, 103. RiDDALL, Walter, 87, 327. RiDGEWAY, William, 119, 201, 223. Roberts, William, 63. Sullivan, Edward, 431, 485. Starkir, W. J. M., 509. Tyrrell, Robert Yelverton, 13, 31, 55, 69, 85, 97, 125, 141, 157, 163, 183, 217, 237, 255, 277, 287, 303, 307, 315, 323, 331, 345, 357, 496, 501, 511. Tyrrell, William Gerald, 107, 175, 385, 443. Verschoyle, John, 411. West, John, 273, 449. West, Richard Whately, 127, 179, 213, 227, 339, 397, 417, 427, 467. TRANSLATIONS INTO GREEK. DUBLIN TRANSLATIONS. MUCH ADO ABOUT NOTHING. ANTONIO — LEONATO. A. If you go on thus you will kill yourself; And 'tis not wisdom thus to second grief Against yourself L. I pray thee, cease thy counsel, Which falls into mine ears as profitless As water in a sieve : give not me counsel ; Nor let no comforter delight mine ear, But such a one whose wrongs do suit with mine. Bring me a father, that so loved his child, Whose joy of her is overwhelm'd like mine. And bid him speak of patience ; Measure his woe the length and breadth of mine, And let it answer every strain for strain ; As, thus for thus, and, such a grief for such. In every lineament, branch, shape, and form : If such a one will smile, and stroke his beard, And, ' sorrow, wag !' cry : hem, when he should groan ; SHAKSPEARE—MUCH ADO ABOUT NOTHING. EPICURUS NIHILI FACIT DOLOREM. A. ravr' y]v yevTjrai jLtaXXov olyy^aru Oavcou' Kov crai(j>p6v(i)'i tol crujajLia^ets aXyrjBovL SIS e \ s / e

i' tekvoi/, i(f>' y yeyyjdev eis ictt^i' VTrep^okrjv, KeLvo<; 8' vireiiTOL ravO' ottcos jaa^ijcro/xai Kovffxo? iveyKeip' ei 8' apiOp/ricra'i ttovovs afKJiolv, ifi(ov es /a^kos es 8' evpo? p.eTpwi', OiCT'T aVTLT€lV€LV TTrjlJiai TTTJ/AaTOS, TO /tCJ' ToC 8' dvTLcrrjKOvv, Kelva 8' aS Keivcav, Kara. jxiXr] re kol vpoa-aTra kol 8e/ias to irai'' 6 8' ei KaraipStv ttjv yivvv Kau irpocryeKojv ' epp' , aXyos' etirev, ei 8' ivoTnrva'ei', 8eov (TTeveiv, ive-jrXacrev 8' a;(os vapoLfJiLais, TTjv crviJ,vcn,v ois Kttt TTaOcov TavT auros ejajneVetv Xoyots. TttSr' GUI' cru /X.T7 jSovXeve' /cat yd/a oi ttovoi vdvT(t)v vTj-epj3o(0(rL K\.r]S6va^ Xoyav. A. vaCSav dp' dvSpes ^La^epovaw ovk€tl. A. /ATj /Aoi Xoyous ex'' ou Xt^os irii^vK iyw' ouSeis S', eya)ju.ai, rwi' ayav cro(f)ct)v erXi^ oSwra? dXycSi' KapTepelv, ei Kat jiidXa CTTT/ rd (Tep.v ippi-^ev, ois ^eds ris wv, Kttl crviJi i^pov^o- Td^npyaa- fjieva, $vfji(j)opoi<; T i^oipiAt,eLV ras dvrjKea-Tov; ^ecov. M. 7) TeTptofJiepr] 8' l^tSi^a Kaiplav fjujirco Top,'r]v Ta)(a Tj-aXcfjifiXaa-Ty]? acravTOv ws Trdpovcnv' Svcrpove? S' r)iieiik.rj! aXka Set a oirws jLteXijcrei Bay/fov ev ti/ai; (refieiv pTjfjLaa-Cv re / yui'at. KevTr\pa.(Tiv a-KopTribiV ipol ^pvei ^p-qv, ovveK es ^wvras reXei BayKO?, ws aKe6pcor} 10 DUBLIN TRANSLATIONS. His cloister' d flight, ere to black Hecate's summons The shard-borne beetle with his drowsy hums Hath rung night's yawning peal, there shall be done A deed of dreadful note. L.3I. What's to be done ? M. Be innocent of the knowledge, dearest chuck, Till thou applaud the deed. Come, seeling night. Scarf up the tender eye of pitiful day ; And with thy bloody and invisible hand Cancel and tear to pieces that great bond Which keeps me pale ! Light thickens ; and the crow Makes wing to the rooky wood : Good things of day begin to droop and drowse, Whiles night's black agents to their preys do rouse. Thou marvell'st at my words ; but hold thee still ; Things bad begun make strong themselves by ill. So, prithee, go with me. SHAKSPEARE. SHAKSPEARE^MACBETH. 11 Iv cTToai? vvKTepiha KVKkelv Trrrjcnv, t) KoXeoTrre- pov Kavdapov ^aio-)(iroyvo<; Trpos 'EKaT7^s vTrdyyeKov, Tov jSpofJLov; ^op,^ovv6' vTTV(o8eido<;, alfJiaToppvTa) re X^''/'^ KdcrKovo) crep.vov rdSe ^vfjufioXov hLacnrdpa^ov, 6 p.' ert XevKaCvet pe0o?. ea ^vvve? OokovTai, koX (j)L\6pvi,0aav iieyeCpovTau /3o- /aas. rd/xa davpdo-aa 9(€ts ttov o-Zya 8' eixptjpcos ej^e' TaTTO (hpoipCcov KaKMV TOi Tols KaKoi'i dXSaCveTai. TTOOS TttS' aipe /Lioi, cr' iKVOvpai, kolvowow pvBpov TToSoS- MAX CULLINAN. 12 DUBLIN TRANSLATIONS. OENONE. Hither came at noon Mournful CEnone, wandering forlorn Of Paris, once her playmate on the hills. Her cheek had lost the rose, and round her neck Floated her hair, or seemed to float, in rest. She, leaning on a fragment twined with vine, Sang to the stillness, till the mountain- shade Sloped downward to her seat from the upper cliff. O mother Ida, many-fountain' d Ida, Dear mother Ida, hearken ere I die ! For now the noonday quiet holds the hill : The grasshopper is silent in the grass : The lizard, with her shadow on the stone, Rests like a shadow, and the cicala sleeps. The purple flowers droop : the golden bee Is lily-cradled : I alone awake. My eyes are full of tears, my heart of love ; My heart is breaking, and my eyes are dim, And I am all a-weary of my life. TENNYSON— OENONE. 13 ATSEPnS TI2 AFAN. TTjvel 8' rjvff evBios aydcTOvo^ rfkaivoicra Tov Yldpw Olvcova Si^ij/Aei^a, &> to Trdpos irep (rvfJLTraLcrS' d fieydXoiTos dv wpea ^oiKokiovn. dv6o aiju,acria, cnydv 8' ej^ei dxeTa t4tti,^. Ta p68a vevet epaaSe, (f>CXa, ^ovdd re fiiXicrcra XevKotoLO-iv ivevSev, ip-d 8' ovx evSec dvCa. ocrcre BeSdKpvvTai., p-eya p,dv iroTiKdpSi.oi' IXkos, irdcra 8' oXodX' vtt l/owros, w ofjjpvcn 8' 6p,p.aTa vapK-fj, ovS" er ipXp fieXerat ^dieiv T'qvoLo xaTci^o-a. 1 -1 D UBLIN TRANSLA TIONS. O mother Ida, many- fountain' d Ida, Dear mother Ida, hearken ere I die ! Hear me, O earth ! hear me, O hills ! O caves That house the cold-crown' d snake ! O mountain- brooks, I am the daughter of a River-god ; Hear me, for I will speak, and build up all My sorrow with my song, as yonder walls Rose slowly to a music slowly breathed, A cloud that gathered shape : for it may be That while I speak of it, a little while My heart may wander from its deeper woe. O mother Ida, many-fountain' d Ida, Dear mother Ida, hearken ere I die ! I waited underneath the dawning hills : Aloft the mountain lawn was dewy-dark, And dewy-dark aloft the mountain pine : Beautiful Paris, evil-hearted Paris, Leading a jet-black goat, white-horn'd, white-hoof 'd. Came up from reedy Simois all alone. O mother Ida, hearken ere I die ! Far off the torrent call'd me from the cleft : Far up the solitary morning smote TENNYSON— OENONE. 15 i^viSe TV OvdcTKOLcroi tv tolv iroXvTrCSaKa ^(ocrTpS). kXvOi,, i,\a {larep, to. iravvcrTaTa KKv6i fiev, "iSa. ip€Lai(xi SoKevjJieva, d/xos dvLei "'AXtos, aKpoKve^aca 8' dvbid' ecrrtX/Se Kdpava, ^d TTLTvq dKpoKveaivoii4vatcriv o/ca, irveiovTos difrovj dpoXoiS dvveipLaL ypa(f)0ev6\ ' dns x^'P'^""^'*'''"' to7(oi'. Odcrai, iv 'OpedSecrcrt /ce/cacr/ieva, aire TroXevvrat Tws "iSas KvafJLOJS, a-vvo(f)pv<; Kopa, d/3pd /3i,/3dTe<; ^vvi)(ovcn,v o/Aws" iravTa yap ivTO? ^v)(rj voDjjia' (TTepoTTal 8' 6X,oas irpoSpofioi, /3povT7J<; iK\oip,vov(TiV irdpeBpoL 8' viraTov Zrjvo's eKrjXoL Oajx^ovcTLV TrpaoTorov <^ws. ftis Zews avfet irdp.^oTO'i l(T)(pv fj,eydkoLopa 8tdXXu//,at. w deiov aXcros, Set cr' ap' e/cXei7retv e/^e, y€vi6\i6v T€ ^rjcrcrav, ev6' vttoctkiov ^apct ju,' v(j>e'LpTT£ 8aip.6v rrriyo^ yafiTjXiov, iravvcTTaTov deXoifiL, TracTLv iKTrpeTTe<;, el fjioi TLv ocTfJiyj koL x^i^^fj craiveiv <^tXei* crow hy) CTTepela-a ttS> imrjpeTeL vofiOLcri, TLfiaX(j)(ov Blktjv ev navTl 9vfi^, tovS' eTTaiuovcnv Oeoi' o<; h' av (j)L\rj viv Zev, to kXeos ot reXei fipoTwv 01) St) ^evaKicrphs jmo, Aia to KaXws kXv€lv. depfiorepo^ ov jjlov ttjktoi; ovSe fiapvT€po yctjO eir' oXeGpoj £,y Kelvos, dXA.' ftis to $i^o, dW J]v ihov OwpaKa tov ifjiov av XdySots. E. dvucras Tt Srj fjuoL Sos' ti 8'; ap' iv TCoXvTpo) ; K. /idXicTTa, v':^ tov Ilai'a, Kat Trai^u ^Xtapos, cruv TwSe 8' &»s dpLCTTa Tts 6(aprj^€Tai. E. ou Setvd ToiGJ (re TrapaXiqpelv iv XP'^^V > ROBERT Y. TYRRELL. 34 DUBLIN TRANSLATIONS. ADDRESS TO THE STARS. Ye shining hosts, That navigate a sea that knows no storms, Beneath a vault unsullied by a cloud, As one who, long detained on foreign shores. Pants to return, and when he sees afar His country's weather- bleached and battered rocks From the green wave emerging, darts an eye Radiant with joy towards the happy land ; So I with animated hopes behold, And many an aching wish, your beamy fires, That show like beacons in the blue abyss, Ordained to guide the embodied spirit home From toilsome life to never-ending rest. COWPER— ADDRESS TO THE STARS. 35 n NTH MEAAINA, XPTSEilN A2TPnN TP04>E. acTTpav (jtaevvcov kolvottXovs ofiikCa, re/AVoucra ttovtov Trvevfidi/rcov avi^vefiov, TToXov KVKkatO^Lcr aWpta TrepLTTTv^fj, axTirep -^ovitfiiv Sapov dKralcn ^ei'ats e^ierai rts vocrripLOv CTMTrjpia^, 6a\a(r(TOTr\'rJKTov<; S' eio-tSwi' Kprjpvov'i Trdrpas, yXavKrj'S iTravTeXkovras iK ^a(f>r]^ crdkov, d(j)TJKe irpos yrjv evp.€.v€crrdiTrjv ckoIs ef opp-aTcov ro^evp-a ^aihpoiiTOV -)(apdXrj fidcn?, TOLOvS' ixfrrjyrjTrjpo? i^rjpTrjpievrj, evpovcra Slav iravkav iKXrj^y ttovov. HASTINGS CROSSLEY. DUBLIN TRANSLATIONS. ' YOU ARE A SHALLOW, COWARDLY HIND, AND YOU LIE.' The king is kind ; and, well we know, the king Knows at what time to promise, when to pay. My father, and my uncle, and myself, Did give him that same royalty he wears : And — when he was not six-and-twenty strong. Sick in the world's regard, wretched and low, A poor, unminded outlaw sneaking home — My father gave him welcome to the shore : And — when he heard him swear and vow to God He came but to be Duke of Lancaster, To sue his livery, and beg his peace. With tears of innocency and terms of zeal — My father, in kind heart and pity mov'd. Swore him assistance, and perform' d it, too. Now, when the lords and barons of the realm SHAKSPEARE—HE^R Y IV. 37 'THIS KING OF SMILES, THIS BOLINGBROKE.' ozonYPOs. aXX €u OLOOicn' tov o avaKT eyvw^ on TO jxev TT poTe.ive.iv cKTeXetv 8' eTTicrraTai Kaipca TO, 8S)p'' iyvcoKa 8' tus tov/aov Trar/aos, irarpos 8' d8eX(/)ou 8ovtos, ei' 8e roto-S' e/Aou, TO (TKrJTTTpov eXa^e tov6' onep ravvv vep^ei. ovTTO) 8' eyeipavT €KT0V dvSp' eir' er«:ocrt (■^v ya/3 TTCVTjs Ktti (^aCXos, rjcOeveu 8 a/xa r^v a^Loio-iv, Ik p' avedecrav, opKLojv TTia-TLV TTapel)(ov' av6o€yye'; yr)ye.vS)v irpSiTOV (reySas vdcrois adiKTwv, oi, crdivei fipvav yovo^, yiyavTes rjpoO'qa'av eK dectiv, yvats OvrjTOLO'L i>viJL(fi(ov, atjiOuTcov KaXXCocni', al y iKTTecr6vTa(; elcroLTra^ Trap-qyayov' ft) ^aiSpe KVKke, kol 9eb? crv y ^crda irpXv cro^Sii; TTe<^a.v6ai p^vhpov ovk avroKTLTov, KOL TTayKparov? SrjvaLO? a>v X(iTpi<; Atos aypCov? fioTrjpas iv vaT/aicri pvdp.iaa'i Xapa y cKW'ets es yppovii dvet/ieVw?, 8ai/AOLfiq) irvpl aTTacTL ^poias koI Trvod<; 8i,copLcra<;, 0}pS)v re ra/xtas Kavp,ar6<; re SecrTTOT'/^?, 44 DUBLIN TRANSLATIONS. And those who dwell in them ! for near or far, Our inborn spirits have a tint of thee, Even as our outward aspects ; — thou dost rise, And shine, and set in glory. Fare thee well ! I ne'er shall see thee more. As ray first glance Of love and wonder was for thee, then take My latest look ; thou wilt not beam on one To whom the gifts of life and warmth have been Of a more fatal nature. He is gone : •I follow. BYRON. BYRON— MANFRED. 45 avSpcJv 6' VTTOvTOiv, iyKe)(po}criJievcov (pXoyi, (ftv^v p6vr]fici T , iyyudev Trpocro) 6 o/aws" ^pucrous 8' avicr^oiv kol fjueawv, )(pv(rovs 8e ous. Kol X^-^P^ ^V' ^^ y vcTTaTov Trpocroi/zojoiai" 9ap.fiS)v rj<; t aSapov ws iK^ijcreTaL. KOL fJiTjv, eSv yoip, ovS' ejotol p.€XXT}Teov. T. MAGUIK.E. 46 DUBLIN TRANSLATIONS. MORTE D'ARTHUR. But, as he walk'd, King Arthur panted hard, Like one that feels a nightmare on his bed When all the house is mute. So sigh'd the King, Muttering and murmuring at his ear ' Quick, quick ! I fear it is too late, and I shall die.' But the other swiftly strode from ridge to ridge. Clothed with his breath, and looking, as he walk'd. Larger than human on the frozen hills. He heard the deep behind him, and a cry- Before. His own thought drove him like a goad. Dry clash' d his harness in the icy caves And barren chasms, and all to left and right The bare black cliff clang' d round him, as he based His feet on juts of slippery crag that rang Sharp-smitten with the dint of armed heels — And on a sudden, lo ! the level lake. And the long glories of the winter moon. TENNYSON— MORTE D' ARTHUR. 47 ANHP TAP OT 2TENAKT02, AAA' EI TI2 BPOTflN 0ATMA2TO2. liws S' e/3aiv "ApOovpos i^vxoppdyeL wa-vep pkiiroiv tis ev Xe^et ^avraa p^drcxiv fiop(jias ap.6p8' ael dpoovfjievos irpos oiTt' ' daacrov, dacrcrov epne, p.r) Odvoi rjv vcTTepyja-r)';'' 6 Se Trayous djuei^erai Ta^eoJS ^ahit,(x)V, a(T6p.d t icTToXLap-evos, \6p(i}v vavv tiv a»s KaTi/jyeTo, iSw Kve oipx'^i'V, rjv he Kai Tis dX^dvrj KparovvO' rj? dpTuo'S eOecrde [jlc. o/Aws Se Toiav ov)(l fiovXofLai ^dpiv Kop.\fiv a^icov — ^v ol SoKovPTe? ev Tre^pay/ieviyi' del auToi? ecrcoiflv — wvirep iv tw tt/oii' -)(p6va OX) TrK'r]6o<; oXiyov w8' iec Oir aja^oj irijx^^ KaXw, yvfJivoia-Lv 8e TroSecrcriv detKeXioicn tSecr^ai /8i^ yo' i/ACi', ati/fa S' iKavev dya/cXeirov ^acrtX'^a, aiTi^oucr' d/coXovs, KaXXos S ' direXdju,7reT0 ttouXu, acnrerov avrap 6 ttJs ye, Xlttcov dpovov evda ddacrae, ■)(jpv(T(S re (TTiX^iov kol elp^acri, davfj^a Iheadai, avTLov ye kluv, koX Sei/cavowro eirecrcrt. SSe Se Tts eMrecr/cev dywi/ vveprjvopeovTaV S) TTOTTOL, ov /idXtt irdj^^y Toi.vpd /caXa loovres, Sepyp^ard 6' ipepoevra, /cd/Aas ^' vaKivOw 6ju,otas. ou ydp 7'"vpSr}v o Xd^poi's TTeplhpop.ov iravTi] ktvttol? poOiOiv re BeLVTfv neXayLcov fii/jLveL JSiav, Sv(T)(eCfiep6v T dveOeTO TTvpycoSei; a-Te(f)or)<; drepfiova, <5 hva-TTOVOV 8rj koI 8i' axr^'qpd's TrXa/cds, dvoi (f)\eyovTO<; ovpavov kvkXco, p^aKpav opwu d-n-Xdrcov ifivTev6ela-a tttvxjJ, dXa>v Tpvvpeav ^acfyqv -)(p6va TrpoaroiTTOv -^XoKicrfJievov [xaKpco (fyauSpcoTTOv e^e^cdver' o/x./AaTwi' o' a/rro trkiqpovp.ivoiv rjcTTpaTTTe TTvp veaviKOV iyco 8e dafifiau yowTreTeis eS/aas mrvco. HASTINGS CROSSLEyJ 62 DUBLIN TRANSLATIONS. GLOSTER. Now is the winter of our discontent Made glorious summer by this sun of York, And all the clouds that lower' d upon our house In the deep bosom of the ocean buried. Now are our brows bound with victorious • wreaths, Our bruised arms hung up for monuments. Our stern alarums changed to merry meet- ings. Our dreadful marches to delightful measures. Grim-visaged War hath smooth' d his wrinkled front. And now — instead of mounting barbed steeds, To fright the souls of fearful adversaries — He capers nimbly in a lady's chamber To the lascivious pleasing of a lute. SHAKSPKARE. SHAKSPEARE— RICHARD III. 63 NUNC EST BIBENDUM. vvv hy] cTKeSdcra'; ^eiju.wi'a Sutjs TjXtos rjiuv crrjiJia TrarpSov 8eLKVv(ri Oepovs creXas ev^eyyes* TO S' vTre.pd' oiKoiv vi<^o€ov, ov^^ trop^vpeav fiaayrjs Tirai" crii 8', ovpdv, aWaXovv (rKr]\jjas /SeXos, Tov avToevTTjv irpi^crov, rj arv, yr\s 0a\iJ.oL'S, ovap ws, evTa' KdiriuuiTiov ^vXov ovoicn, Srjcras, oIctl KcoBwvoKpoTOL Xdix-rrovcn OvaavoL, vdcrrt/AOj/ 7re/A7ret aroXov. HASTINGS CROSSLEY. 76 D UBLIN TRANSLA TIONS. ET PROPTER VITAM VIVENDI PERDERE CAUSAS. TALBOT — JOHN TALBOT. T. Shall all thy mother's hopes lie in one tomb? y. Kj, rather than I'll shame my mother's womb. T. Upon my blessing I command thee g-o. y. To fight I will, but not to fly the foe. T. Part of thy father may be saved in thee. y. No part of him but will be shame in me. T. Thou never had'st renown, nor can'st not lose it. y. Yes, your renowned name ; shall flight abuse it ? T. Thy father's charge shall free th'^e from that stain. y. You cannot witness for me, being slain. SHAKSPEARK. SHAKSPEARE— HENRY VI. 77 *ETr' Q2 TAXI2TA. HOI AHTA *ETrn ; T. dpa Koiva. XPV^ TacfyrjvaL ndvd ocr 17 fxrjTr^p T. jjur) yap oi(rTr\ay)(i>o? aveLr)v ttjv v(ri,v, Keivrj'S yeyws. T. Kot irpo'S ewoias /ceXeuw rowSe tov Trarpo'i fioXelv. I. eis ayS)v eyotye Oacraov, ovS' "Aprjv iKCTTijcrofiai,. T. ow^ airas, o-ov C,o)vto?, ovSe ttg/o Oavcov, redvrjK eyct). I. etr^Xos av 6dvoivyy Kve(f)dCcii XafiTrpov ovofia trov, Trdrep. T. dXka yovv vaTrjp KeXevcra? TouSe tr' iKXvcreL \jj6yov. I. ow Topas iKp.apTvpi]ov ixeaovvKTLO';, oiiq, Tov Kari^ovTa Koprjv vxpodev o^ofjLevrj. TOWNSEND MILLS. 80 DUBLIN TRANSLATIONS. THE PASSING OF ARTHUR. ' But now farewell. I am going a long way With these thou seest — if indeed I go (For all my mind is clouded with a doubt) — To the island valley of Avilion ; Where falls not hail, or rain, or any snow, Nor ever wind blows loudly ; but it lies Deep-meadow' d, happy, fair with orchard lawns And bowery hollows crown' d with summer sea, Where I will heal me of my grievous wound.' So said he ; and the barge with oar and sail Moved from the brink, like some full-breasted swan That, fluting a wild carol ere her death. Ruffles her pure cold plume, and takes the flood With swarthy webs. Long stood Sir Bedivere Revolving many memories, till the hull Look'd one black dot against the verge of ' dawn. And on the mere the wailing died away. TENNYSON. TENNYSON— THE PASSING OF ARTHUR. 81 ANHP OT 2TENAKT05. ' vvv 8' aye, ^f^pXp^ (tv [jlol irvfjuaTov, Ilar/JOKXets 'nnrev' eijut (Tvv ats o/aaas SoXi^^i' oSov — el ireov ye firjcroyiai, ws Kai e/*ot 8i^' opcoperai evOa kol evda dvfJLO^ dfLrj^avLT) KeKokufjifievo? — es re jj^aKaipas kcnrepirj'i v^croio vdwas, evd' ovre ^^aXa^a ovT€ Atos VK^eros iTmrikvaTat,, ovre ttot Ofjufipo?, ovre ^evos Zevpoio p-eya TTveei, dXXa jU,aX' aiet TepireTat 'qcrv)(frj ^advkeip,o}V, dyXaoKapTro?, yovv(a dXaxiojv Xnraprj crKiepaiai re fiijcrcrac's ras vepL ttovto? d\os p.aka vijvefio^ i(rredro' VTjvs 8 ' dp' eneira 8iaTTprj(T(rovovs SCktjv. lotcri St) tot rjpivoi,^ aipa via /Sijcrcras opeuas dpTtcDS iTTi]v6i(Te, TO CrOV T iKpv(j)67) Crw/Att fJikv -)(QiCrT(^ Td(f)(0, ^vxv S' diryjXde )(S)pov eis dfieuvova. ARTHUR PALMER. 84 DUBLIN TRANSLATIONS. SOLILOQUY. (HAMLET.) Oh, that this too, too solid flesh would melt. Thaw, and resolve itself into a dew ! Or that the Everlasting had not fixed His canon 'gainst self-slaughter. O God ! O God ! How weary, stale, flat, and unprofitable Seem to me all the uses of this world ! Fie on 't ! ah, fie ! 'tis an unweeded garden That grows to seed ; things rank and gross in nature Possess it merely. That it should come to this ! But two months dead: nay, not so much, not two. So excellent a king ; that was to this Hyperion to a satyr ; so loving to my mother That he might not beteem the winds of heaven Visit her face too roughly. Heaven and earth ! Must I remember ? SHAKSPEARE. SnAKSPEARE— HAMLET. 85 nns Eni tois *0imenoi2 ameaein kaaon ; TT^KoiTo ■TTcSs a.v CIS Bp6€irovcr dyjarvpoL d/cTwes vp,Siv, ats e/AOiye (juXraTov dvd) yaXrjvd l3Xe(f)apa irpocrXevcrcreLV raSe ef ovpavov (TTd.t,ovTa jneiXi^ov yavos. Kttl VVKTOS rjv TTOT iv KaTacTTacrei fi£povTis d,\|»o(^ovs oip,ov8pa>v' Tous eyw, ov S' et pa Tro^eS^es, OVTOt dTTlCTTlTJ SwaTat ^d TTUTTIM 0/AOta" K^v Suo-TTicrTOs eijs ri to irav KeKXrjarf ainaTos. TavTOL ye ^d fiiKKO. TrXayiavXw prj^i.<; eyevTo, d TTOKa \acrKdcrSov(r diroKo^Tracrei dov ju.eXio"/xa, ■^Ktt 8' del fjidXkov ')(a\da jJ-expi- Trdvra (ncoTrdv ftis TaTTicrTov evecTT, okuyov Trep, Totan nod ever lv. Tj (US ei' eTTOfJi^aXicp jxdXa) crmXa) l^vlov avTco^ crvfiiravT iKTaKevv evpoyna ivBodt fidWov. wTvSavov TO kttJju,'" dTTO VLV r6Ka^dXkofJie<;' ov ydp ; <^s pa-, 4>CKr) Ke(f)a\tj ; tv KpWyjT dvo, ju-ijS' iTnvevarjs, dXkd /AOt yj TTeCcrdrjTi rd TrdvT tj p-rj tv ye pyjSev. JOHN F. DAVIES. 100 DUBLIN TRANSLATIONS. CUPID'S REVENGE. Leucippus, thou art shot through with a shaft That will not rankle long, yet sharp enough To sow a world of helpless misery In this unhappy kingdom. Dost thou think, Because thou art a prince, to make a part Against my power ? But it is all the fault Of thy old father, who believes his age Is cold enough to quench my burning darts. But he shall know ere long that my dart loose Can thaw ice, and inflame the wither' d heart Of Nestor. Thou thyself art lightly struck ; But his mad love shall publish that the rage Of Cupid has the power to conquer age. BEAUMONT AND FLETCHER. BE A UMONT AND FLETCHER— CUPID' S REVENGE. 101 EPns TiMnpoa. ol(TT(o Kvpel';, AevKiTTTTe, ro^evOel? 8Ca 8apbv fJikv ov oaKvovTU, Kaipioi , ouev KaKcov ioLKev airopov efajaav depos TravcjXedpo^ Xd(^v rihe. Koipavo'i yeyws ifioi (TV To\jU,as avTi)(€iy; dXX' atrtos 05 (T i^€v(rev, oorts cjv \pv)(pos yepcov 'TTeTToide rd/Aa tflLirvp airocr^ecre.iv jSeXy]. rd^ etcrerai 8e rovixov ws olov re irws TTjKeiv Trdyov ro^evfJia, KavavOev Keap ^Xeyetv to Neo-To/seiov. i^ava-0T]<; ye cru, 6 8' ifjbfJLavrj'; atv iracri SijXwo-et crdeveiv 'EjOWTos Tjacrov yrjpa? rjypuoiiivov. SAMUEL ALLEN. 102 DUBLIN TRANSLATIONS. WILLIAM TELL. O EiNE edle Himmelsg-abe ist Das Licht des Auges — Alle Wesen leben Vom Lichte, jedes gltickliche Geschopf — Die Pflanze selbst kehrt freudig sich zum Lichte. Und er muss sitzen, fuhlend, in der Nacht, Im ewig Finstern — ihn erquickt nicht mehr Der Matten warmes Griin, der Blumen Schmelz, Die rothen Firnen kann er nicht mehr schauen — Sterben ist nichts — doch leben und nicht sehen, Das ist ein Ungliick — Warum seht ihr mich So jammernd an ? Ich hab' zwei frische Augen Und kann dem blinden Vater keines geben, Nicht einen Schimmer von dem Meer des Lichts, Das glanzvoll, blendend mir ins Auge dringt. SCHILLER— WILLIAM TELL. 103 LUX IN TENEBRIS. TO ^ws PpoTolcri Scopov ex ^ewv ocrov ^ucris ya/J aiT^s Tracra jSocr/cerat c^aet, ^aei S' dnavra re/JTrerai" tt^os '^XCov ^aos Ter pap,p.4v aura ttcus ^at/jet (f>vToi' aXX' iv (TKOTO) Kpv^Oevra rovSe Set jjieveuv' TovS' ovK 6 -)(\o)pbs ev(l>pav£L Xetficov Kcap, ovK dvdeoiv TroLKiXfiar , ov ra TTop(f>vpa KpvcTTaXXoTT'tjyojv aKpa rwvSe tcSv 6pS)v. 0ave2v fJukv ovSep' i,'rjv 8e vuktos ei" Svo^ois KaKU)V KOLKLCTTOV TOVTO' TTO)? dp' S>S' ifJiol (TKvdpbmov ojJifJia TrpocrfiaXelv uyiias ixpyjv ; dfJi(j)(o yoLp ofJifJiaT ecTT ip-OL crecrcocrpevo), / i \ '^ /^os JO'S V /\^ s V KauTOi TvcpKco TOiO ovo eva cnnvurip e\Q) (jjrjvat /3pa)(yv tovS' da-TreTov (f)dov<;, oaov KVKXei, kXv8q)v ft)?, ocrcr' dpepooTJcrrj cfiXoyC, 104 DUBLIN TRANSLATIONS. Blinder, alter Vater, Du kannst den Tag der Freiheit nicht mehr schauen ; Du soUst ihn horen — Wenn von Alp zu Alp Die Feuerzeichen flammend sich erheben, Die fasten Schlosser der Tyrannen fallen, In deine Hiitte soil der Schweizer wallen, Zu deinem Ohr die Freudenkunde tragen, Und hell in deiner Nacht soil es dir tagen ! SCHILLER— WILLIAM TELL. 105 Tv^ihav yepaLov a.6\Cov Trarjoos Koipa, bpav fjbkv ov crot, y rjfjiap ecTT ikevOepov, yvZvat, S', OT avyrj TTOfj/rri^ov TTvpotX'rj Tts raOra kol KTeivei Xafitov ; 2. oLv yap KTOLveiv oKvrj Tts ■^ ravra (rrvyet,- B. aira^ S' afjiapTOJv Tras rts etr' ixOoLpreos ; Z. eKOVTa yap ois aiiTOs av oaKvoi cr ocpts; A. dfivrjfjiOvev<;, w (^CkraT, 'E^paiw fidrrfv X6yovei\€L irevre, 8ts roa-ov Se^ou. %. CKacTTOv el Se/c' ^v raXavTov es fJ^^pfj o-)(i.p(icrai eKevdepovre voivTas, aare vapOevovs vfLotv eTTLKXiQpoLcrL (TviJbl3rjvaL Xe^os" Tl (f>opTLOlepct)v. BAS. ^e^' ovi' rd ypd/jLixaT ayyekov re wpocrKaXei. B. oif jLii) vpoXeixj/eis, ^CXTar, dXX' evKapSCoDs e^ets er ; ^ ydp (rdpK ip.'i]v $vv aiju-ari 6o"Ta T€ SwcTft) XvTpa, irplv ere y' aiftaros e/AOu •}(dpiv Tre/A^tya 7r/3os ttc'Sw fiaXelv. A. (US T^v vocrcoSr) XPW ^/*' ^*' '^oCfjbvaL's oiv dXXcDV reXevrdv TrpocrOev, wcravTos 0' opas ddcrcrov TTiTvovTa Td(j-0evrj KapirMfidrajv. ovTO) S' e)(ot Tciju,'" eS 8' o/aws Spdaei,^ cfiCXov OavovT ert ^wt-, p^vrjiiaT iyypd\pas rdcfxi). WILLIAM GERALD TYRRELL. 112 DUBLIN TRANSLATIONS. LA GUENON, LE SINGE, ET LA NOIX. Une jeune guenon cueillit Une noix dans sa coque verte ; Elle y porte la dent, fait la grimace, Ah ! certe, Dit-elle, ma mdre mentit Quand elle m'assura que les noix eioient bonnes. Puis, croyez aux discours de ces vieilles personnes Qui trompent la jeunesse ! Au diable soit le fruit ! Elle jette la noix. Un singe la ramasse, Vite entre deux cailloux la casse, E'epIUche, la mange, et lui dit : Votre mdre eut raison, ma mie, Les noix ont fort bon gout ; mais il faut les ouvrir. Souvenez-vous que, dans la vie. Sans un peu de travail on n'a point de plaisir. FLORIAN. FLORIAN—LA GUENON. 113 ni0HKOI. TTiOcov i^eavts Kapvov evpev OLKfjidCov -)(ko}pM XeTTvpco, Tois 8e yofK^ioLt; vp6pci)v irapeSctiKev elra, Kap^apou crecrripvla, i^dey^aT, olpioi, ipevSo's irrXaa-ev p-yjrrjp 0)5 SrjOev eh) Kapvov rjhvkov Tpoiyeiv. Tts ovv TO XoiTTOv ypaSiO}V Xoyo) tovtoiv vWoiT av ; eiirep tovs viov Tpdyqp^, eppov. Xeyovcr diftrJKe' to Se iridcav veavicrKo^ eKofiCcraT, iv /iecrw Se Swo XWoiv Opavcras i^elXe Tov\\iov, koI (ftiXyj, fjLt^Trjp, Xapov TO Kapvov' vXrjv ^XPW '^'P^ KOKKitfiiv. pbifUMiqcro toivvv ws tis ev ^ua tovtco ouTOi TTOVCDV a,T€p6ev riSovrjv efet. JOHN F. DA VIES. lU DUBLIN TRANSLATIONS. THE AMBUSCADE. But I remember : Two miles on this side of the fort, the road Crosses a deep ravine ; 'tis rough and narrow And winds with short turns down the precipice, And in its depth there is a mighty rock. Which has, from unimaginable years. Sustain' d itself with terror and with toil Over a gulf, and, with the agony With which it clings, seems slowly coming down Even as a wretched soul, hour after hour, Clings to the mass of life ; yet, clinging, leans ; And, leaning, makes more dark the dread abyss In which it fears to fall : beneath this crag, Huge as despair, as if in weariness, The melancholy mountain yawns — below SHELLEY— THE CENCL 115 KEI0I AH AIN0TAT02 AOX02 EIIAETO. 17 'v6ev8e 8' ovv /ceXeii^os, ois jU.vr^/Aijs ^X^' TTvpyco ireXd^ova-' ov8' aTTOv(ra Stj fiaKpav vepa (fxipayya, /cai, crrevwiros oSs, ttvkvoI'? iXtcrcreTat, (TTpo(l)aL(T(, tuv KpyjfJivcav Kara, rj<; iv p-v^oiaiv o/Spifirj crTrjpi^erai BeLvrj re Sucr^t/Aos re tov /carw verpa fidOov? virepcTTacr , dcTKOirov firJKOs ')(p6vov, fjioyus re KoWy]0eLi^evKT e^et y€(j)vpa, KaTT dy/ioicriv v^podev fceSpos crfjiiXd^ re irevKr) t e/i,7reirXey^evai KX.aSous KOfiaLcriv ivd-qpoLO-t, fityvvvraL ctkotov KaT7]pe(l)7J TrXoKOtcTL KLaa-rjpovs cr/cias. MAX CULLINAN. 118 DUBLIN TRANSLATIONS. ' THOU WAST NOT BORN TO DIE, IMMORTAL BIRD.' As Saint Kevin he was walkin' By the lake of Glendalough, 'Twas then he met with King O' Toole, An' he ask'd him for a shaugh. Says the King, ' You're but a sthranger. Sure yer face I niver seen, But if ye've got a taste of weed, I'll lend ye my dhudeen.' As the Saint was kindlin' up the pipe. The Monarch heaved a sigh. Says the Saint, ' What ails ye. King O' Toole, And are ye goin' to cry ? ' Says the King, ' I had a gandher That was given me by my mother. But yesterday he cock'd his toe, Wid some disease or other.' ANON.— ST. KEVIN. 119 XHN OT A0HH2 AXHN. fiy) o ifnevaL Trapa diva KelVos fJt-dvTL^ afivficov Xiju-j'TjS, Tw Se dva^ ^vfjb^\r)T, dyado<; TvXeCSrjs, Tov oe re Trap^dfievo? //.avrts KrjwSea (f>vWa Tyree tov o i^/ieiper avaf ayavots eneGcrcrL •? /- ^ » V OS 3 /S 3S\V /I ''J' o) geiv , ayvcjCTTO? o efioi ecrcr , cttei ovtl c/ajni^ets el Se ere (f)vX)C 6Svvij(l)ad' ekia-Qai dvfio? dvwyev, ovK deKOJV croL kolXov ifiov vdp0r)Ka irape^o). •^jLios oy iK vdpOrjKO'S eSaiev ^ecTTTiSaes Trvp, Trjfiois veuodev e/c KpaSur)^ ySacriXevs (TTevd)(vC^v, /cat //,«' (fxavijcras irpocreeiTTev jxdvTi'; dfjiVficov' ■^ pd Ti vvv TTodeeii; ; kol SaKpvcrovTi eotfcas. TOV 8' 6\o(l>vp6fievos 'rrpocri<^rj Kparepos TuXeiSi^s' ^(ifi' piOL erjv, a) p,dvTi, tov WTracre TroTVLa piqTfjp, TeKpyjpavTO Se' ot voOcroi' ^eoi aiej/ iovTe?, iBv(odi) Se Trecrwv, )(0i,lo'i S' 'AtSoerSe fie^iJKei,. 120 DUBLIN TRANSLATIONS. ' Are ye cryin' for your gandher, You unfortunate ould goose ? Dhry up yer tears, stop cryin', man, In that there is no use ; But see here, what will you give me If yer gandher I revive ? ' Says the King, ' I'll be yer sarvint All the days that I'm alive.' Says the Saint, ' You 're mighty civil, But civility is cheap. An' I'd sooner have a taste of land. To pasture my poor sheep. Now I'll revive yer gandher, And make him whole and sound, If you'll give me just the bit of land The gandher flies around.' So the King went to his palace. In haste to fetch the bird, Though he hadn't the laste intintion, mind ye. Of stickin' to his word. When the bird came from the palace. The Saint took him from the King, And first he touch' d him on the beak. And then he stroked his wing. ANON.—ST. KEVIN. 121 w XV^' V Toios ere tto^os irepl xvvo^ iKavei, ; iravaaL haKpv)(ia>v, Ta)(ii(a<; S' aTrdXiyye yooio, avTco'S /[Aai|»i8ift)s, /cat Kev ttoXii Kcpoiov etrj' ei 8' a/aa juiv ^wypTjcrw, aTroivd ju,oi afia Swcrets; Tov 8' d7ra/AetjSdju,evos Trpoaedp,evo'S CTreecrcrt y' iTnTpo^dSrjv dyopeveis' dXkd TrapaL(f>acrLs icT dvencoXio'S, ov8' dXeyi^o)" ^/oew ye vop.ov ip-e paXkov iv w (^iXa prjXa vop evaoi. vvv pev dva^ij^eLv iOeXto croL XV^' iptrjpov, viqp€pTei^<^ ajJi^eTTOTaro irevTrfKovToyvov. Trpocre /SacrvXev, rdSe jaoi re/oievos Tep,v, ouSe ydp eupv. o^^Tjcras Se dva^ ir/ao creetTre ere, fjLoivTi hat^pov If (j)iXot, 0) Tro\vdpiJiaK , ivl jtieyapois yeydacrii' vies e/Aol KparepoL, Oovpiv eTTiei/Aevoi dX^^jv, KeCcreai wv utto X'^P^'' KuX.ivSdju,evos /card KOirpov. Tov 8' au KepTOjjiioLs fidvTLS iireecrcrt TrpocrrjvBa' w TTOTTOi, ^ jLieya eiTres o /cat toi piyiov ecrraf /5ea yd^ cr^eas Travcro) KpaTepovs Trep vrjTnedcov. ifjifiaTTeoi'i 8e dvaKTa kol vfas Xdas idrjKev, Twv /cXeos da^ecTTov, Nrjot Se re 'ETrrd /caXevvrai. WILLIAM RIDGEWAY. 124 DUBLIN TRANSLATIONS. AMARYLLIS. He. My 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. She. In country meadows pearled with dew. And set about with lilies, There filling- maunds with cowslips you May find your Amaryllis. He. What have the meads to do with thee And with thy youthful hours ? Live thou at court, where thou mayst be The queen of men, not flowers. Let country wenches make 'em fine With roses, since 'tis fitter For thee with richest gems to shine. And like the stars to glitter. HERRICK. HERRICK—AMAR YLLIS. 125 FLUMINA AMEM SILVASQUE. A. o) vapiecrcr' 'Ajua/ouXXi, tv y at vv to S^jXeai, wSe ot^eadai /i,' atrropyos iprjiJid^ovTa XiTTolcra, ai /ATj Tiv Xt^os etTTii' d/Aa^avos €v8o6i, Ovfjios, (jjpdaBe fjiOL, w 'AjuapuXXi, ro ■^(opiov, co tv Ki^eiw. A. a Kpiva SatSaXXet -^oepov vopiov, at re Tepuvai dpyijpa) IvSaWovTau iv elap^evaicnv iepcrau, etayoos es Ta\dpo)<; irpdTas Tpvydourav (XTra/j^as, reiS' oii Ktt ^ttTwi' 'AjotapvXXiSa Ad(f>vLpea, tIv S' eTreoiKe Oei(r opa'i' aipa(raL' ovTOL yap ififiacr o'lkov eis evrjp,epov, ovT iv So/ioicriv eicropa<; yafiyjXCov Tpvv 8' iv6(Te\oi re Trirpan, yovvirerel ret/oi/x/Aef at iBpa, Karmpv^ S avt aKav6ivai<5 dKiJual? TTVKvoJs TTVKaadeta, avrpa t '^S' avaKtopa TO. O-e/AJ/OTl/i', OV VVKTKJipovp'qTOI.S XtTtttS tS)v TTapdevwv i^'ikoiKTa, 8aip.6vo)u fiperrf SaKpvppoeL' ^v)(pd ye Kalirep ova iya> vfjiMV hiKrjv vvv, Ko,^ dKLvrjTov ttoSos evcjiyjjJLO's, dfjuvrjiKtiv jjikv, ov ireTpa, 8' €vv. payL(TiidTO)v rapfiovcra 7re/)t^o\as aiOev, evyv(0(TTov ovopLO, tfiiiTvpei 8vas vea<;. 132 DUBLIN TRANSLATIONS. Oh, name for ever sad ! for ever dear ! Still breathed in sighs, still usher' d with a tear. I tremble, too, where'er my own I find, Some dire misfortune follows close behind. Line after line my gushing eyes o'erflow. Led through a sad variety of woe ; Now warm in love, now withering in my bloom, Lost in a convent's solitary gloom: There stern religion quench' d the unwilling flame; There died the best of passions, Love and Fame. POPE—ELOISA TO ABE LARD. 133 ovofia, (TV 8' eX yoeSvov exxjyiXk? 8' o/xws, fiiXd^v (TTOvoLs ois ^po Lfi-ial^eTai Sa/cpu. Kav Tovfwv evpco rrov, 8e8oiK' iSovcra i^tv ofiocTToXoLcri cnryKeKpafJievov ttovois' CTTt^ous re 8e\T0u, ttoikiX' iKp,erpoviiiviq ^nevdr), 8caCv(o Sv(T^Lfjba) vXrjfjifivpLSi. Ttt jLiev TedakTTTaL hvcnroTp^ov iroffo) tol 8e fceap KarecTKkiqK afiov iyKeKky/JievT)^ s ev 8aaos rjfi€T€pr)v pj€ikv)(}-ov re Keap' ivOdhe irdvTa KaXws Trpafas, tov SevraTOV rjBr] es fiaKdpav vqaov^ i^eiriprjae irkoov. ovi\ avTjp aXicjcreu vTr6a-)(e(riv, rjwep vTTecrry], Tocrcrov iXafirli' dperals efo^a davfiaaiacs' TToWol? Kol KeSvol? -iTe(f>iX7]fievo? iirXeT eTrjo-iv, TOV 8' ecrrep^e Kirjv 17 ^apiecrcra XXoyj' da-fiaTa yrjOoavvcp 0ap,d rot XaOiKrjSea cjicDv^ jxvp" av TfeL^ev Tracrt ^a/jav TTapi^diV ^povSrj S' ev(j)poa'vvy), koI opotpev vevOo? aXacTTov, e§ fjiaKdpcov vii](rov dduaTO'S depicra's ravSpo^ e^a fiioTOV crafia fikv eis avTXov yap Kdirirecrev, vcrTO/ra 8 ' avTos es fJiaKdpcDv vt^ctous i^eTreprjcre irXoov. W. W. FLEMYNG. 140 DUBLIN TRANSLATIONS. R. I. P. 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 them in smiles and glee ; But her heart was tired, tired ; And now they let her be. Her life was turning, turning, In mazes of light and sound ; But for peace, her soul was yearning. And now peace laps her round. Her cabin' d, ample spirit Panted and strove for breath ; To-night it doth inherit The vasty halls of death. MATTHEW ARNOLD. ARNOLD— R. I. P. 141 ETPEN EAET0EPIHN. Zr)vo(pi.ky poo e/nTj, poo efjuj) Kara^eire aavovay, jM'/jSe Xvypav /atjtis (TfiiXaK eTTLorTopea-rj' TTprjvv iv rjpepuLrj euSet fidXa vriypeTov vttvov — euoei — Kttju, V77TOS ft)s oxpeKe roios £)(£iv. vdfiaa-Lv evcffpocrvvrjs erdpovi mre/Spe^e crwovrag, SCiffaov ot TTacrav S)v ecfiepev ^api/rcov' dXka KOTTO'S KpaSirjv, Kpaht-qv kottos cd^v ireipe' vvv Se TTOvovs /ceirai iravras aTreiiraixevr). o-TpofilSTjSov 8iveve fiios, Bivevev, aTracrais iv SdScov aiyXais /cat KiOapmv evoTrais' r}crv)(V7]. Ti viov; i^opfjia abs irarrfp Ovfibv fiapvv, Kot Seiva TTacr^ei. M. v^ a", es ToS' rjp,epa<; a^iKTos opyrj'S wSe Su(7^t//,ou So/cet. n. 5 TeKVOV, biS Tts iTTTorjiJLevos TToOiv, TT/oeireis aXuaJV* /a^ crv y'* dX,X,' ev^pcav yevov. rj^et irepas ^r) Kcop.o?, oi 8' viroKpLTat, (o Ttpovkeyov aoi) Travres, eiSwXcui' crKid, j3e/3acrL XeiTTw a-vvTaKevre? alOipi. KoX TrjcrS' d/Jiavpcov ^acrp,OLT(iiv Te)(yy]s SiKrjv, TTvpycofiaT dcTTpoyeLTov dyXaoiv Soficov, vaol fji,eyav\els, iu 8' 6 ttSs ^Oovos ttoKos, avTotat StaXa^oucrii' di'aXu^eis, tcrov etScoXoTrXdcTTW TwSe vvv npocr^cijfJiaTi, ovSkv Trpo\ei\\iei reKfjiap. Ik ravTov yei/ove ^iXos, tv y ^X^''^ veKpcov iripi d(r6at;' Twv y , 'E/cara ZacrirKrJTt,, v£Kpwv vepi ris ySyaoros ol8ev ; ' -qviSe, Tw Krjpoi KaTaraKOfievo) 8t,a(f)aLV(ov &>S (jtaKekwv 6o)[JioS' iirl TOiKpoTdTO), 'EXeva arpei irakiv, av 6 y eXvcrev ; ri<; TTOKa roiavTav rev^eve Ke, TroTva %e\dva ; ravT OLTTO vvv tXv Sous Setrai creo ttoXX, iKerevoiv (j)ffeLpoixevct) \vyp(ucrLv e^av idev oIktov avtais. rj Kol raXX' oaa ol Ke^api(rp.€da vvv aTToSaxrei ; ovx> 'E/cara Saa-TrXrJTL, to, y ovk oltto tis iroKa Sftjcrei. ' a/coucras KXayya? ojcrel Ka)do)vo<;, aoeX^d, XajxirpoTepov KeXaSevvTo? rj os to ya BeUXov d^el. OVK ets Ipd KoXeu, OavaTO) 8 ' ws ayyeXos d;)(er.' d^ei 817 TT/i/oj davara(f>6pa, iroTva 'ZeXdva. 154 DUBLIN TRANSLATIONS. ' O the wind is sad in the iron chill, Sister Helen, And weary and sad they* look by the hill.' ' But he and I are sadder still. Little brother ! ' [O Mother, Mary Mother, Most sad of all, between Hell and Heaven .') ' See, see, the wax has dropped from its place, Sister Helen, And the flames are winning up apace 1 ' ' Yet here they burn but for a space. Little brother ! ' (O Mother, Mary Mother, Here for a space, between Hell and Heaven !) ' Ah ! what white thing at the door has cross' d. Sister Helen ? Ah ! what is this that sighs in the frost ? ' ' A soul that's lost as mine is lost. Little brother ! ' [O Mother, Mary Mother, Lost, lost, all lost, between Hell and Heaven ! ) ROSSKTTF. * The father and brothers of Keith of Eweni. ROSSETTI— SISTER HELEN. 155 ' TTvet S' avejuos ptyakd, criSapoj 8' d)pavo<; uros' Tov \6(j>ov diJL^aCvovTL KeKfiaKoa-LV SivSpe^ ofioiot.' ' Tutv oe irkiov drjv ttov KeKfLaKafies auros iyw re.' TO) y', 'E/cara SacTrX'^ri, KeKfiaKwrov cfo^^' aircti'Tcoi'. ' •^I'toe Kamrvpicras icej^urat ju.ej' 6 Krjpo'i epacrSe, a o ava epAog: kap/iroLcr okiyo) ya itot (opavov ei/cei. ' avToOi [Jbdv rj^aiov ocrov f(p6vov aWerai aura.' atderai Tj^aiov -)(p6vov aurd^i, Trori'a SeXai'a. ' «^ev, vapd tov jSakov tC to XevKov Trjvo TraprjvOev ; Kat rt w TO (TTova^evv to y vtraiBpiov h> Trayw efco ;' ' ov\o[ievQ) d i^v-)(d, dSik^', ois dfid oXcoXev.' ' aTroKkivaf TL ySios ; TL TreXet ravOahe. repTTva. ; (TTepOTTrj Sv6(f>0V fj I/U/CTOS v^pil,€i, Toi^a 8' al^vlhiov <^\6y ajxavpol. a)S cro)poa-vv7]<; reXos aKpavTov, zeal ^L\6T7fTOv Toi ye Trp6(T0' T^v^ovfiev exovTa. 158 DUBLIN TRANSLATIONS. 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. SHELLEY— MUTABILITY. 159 (TV 8' — epav — /Saidi' y' oSwoii' ovap a.fx.TTveva-rj'i, Teyye 8' iyepOeU 8aKpvci)v Xij3d8a9 TroXuKXaucrrous. ROBERT Y. TYRRELL. 160 DUBLIN TRANSLATIONS. VARIO IRARUM FLUCTUAT AESTU. R. Had' ST thou no poison mix'd, no sharp-ground knife, No sudden mean of death, though ne'er so mean, But — banished — to kill me ; banished ? O friar, the damned use that word in hell ; Rowlings attend it. How hast thou the heart. Being a divine, a ghostly confessor, A sin-absolver, and my friend profess' d. To mangle me with that word — banished ? F. Thou fond mad man, hear me a little speak. R. O, thou wilt speak again of banishment. F. I'll give thee armour to keep off that word ; Adversity's sweet milk, philosophy, To comfort thee, though thou art banished. R. Yet banished ? Hang up philosophy ! Unless philosophy can make a Juliet, Displant a town, reverse a prince's doom ; It helps not, it prevails not ; talk no more. F. O, then I see that madmen have no ears. R. How should they, when that wise men have no eyes? SHAKSPEARE. SHAKSPEARE— ROMEO AND JULIET. 161 MENS SAUCIA AMORE. 'PflM. oil rapa (jxipfLaK, ov Traprjv drjKTri kottis, reXos davdcriyLOv evreXes trep, dX.X' op,mv'yy 8e irarptSos wXecras' €v t"^? (f>vyrjs' irdrep, toS' ovofia rots Kara) ^Oltols poveLV ye, avfju^opa.'s (fn-kov ydXa, o Kapra cr ev ^yse/zei re kol rrjv crrjv (jjvyijv. 'PflM. ToS' aSr' eKeiv' es <^d6pov ltco to a-cacfypoveiV ei fir) TO crSx^pov 'lovXiav aXXiji/ ^uei, Toyou re Xiji^a kol /jLeOCa-TTjcrLV ttoXiv, axpelov il? dyevra /cat aioka Tev^ea re fiea-Ta ^areucra' ju,v/)tais 8' e'TOS trpamhoiv aXvet VOLTTiOV VOf)^ OViatS, Bai)(0€i? 8' axrirep ey)(^ecr(riv cftovCoLS raXaCva 6vp.oiXTpov Ijuats aKovai,;, d Se X^'P' ^ ^^^ CXe, Ovyydvovcra. ^eipo's ws dikyei voov dXXd rots ^iX- rjyLacri fi oXov iraaav aiypei ')(dpfia' dikot Se Krjvov e/ATrXeKTjv IfiepTov iv dyKd\aiv(Tav, rjv TO) fiiXy fidX' dcr^aXeis ottcus (JLevovcnv e^co ol TTttiSes, acrp(i(Tov. B. irpiir^i ye prjfjua tovt a.<^eia-i •^ei\e(Tiv viK7j(f>6poL irepaicr vtr eixpTjfjiov ySo'^s. T. ^aipeiv p-dk' eliTOV, koX Xey' &)9 dXyiySoj'cijt' Trkrjyatv t d^epTcov TravKav evpyjcrco ^iXots, ^6opa? T, dSay/AoO t tjv E/9&)s ttoXus /5uj7, fc^i' TTou craXevTj, XeTTTov ws irXotoi', <^v(n,^ ^iov Tv\ai,i.a, /car' d^Cav aTracnv, ft»s eav Swtjs C''?T^ rts evpeiv iravkav, iv rd^ei ^(peMv ikOovTa Sevpo touS' d/irdy^acrOai ^vkov TTpiv rj Te/Aouz/Tos TreXcKcws al(rdT]cr€TaL' X. rotoCrov ovra p^rj iripa KMTtXke viv. T. pr} Sevp' dveXdrj';, dXXd TrjpavTov iroXec TocravT iojv dyyeuXov, ws icf)' dXpvpd aKTrj TrerpwSov^ divos olKrjrmp del pevoLp av evoao , rjv airaq ocnQfiepat /cXv^ei TToXvv ddXacraa KW)(Xdt,ov(T d<^p6v' poXovcri S' vp2v ovpbo?. RICHARD W. WEST. 182 DUBLIN TRANSLATIONS. ALL SAINTS' DAY. And after these things I saw four angels standing on the four corners of the earth, holding the four winds of the earth, that the wind should not blow on the earth, nor on the sea, nor on any tree. And I saw another angel ascending from the east, having the seal of the living God : and . he cried with a loud voice to the four angels, to whom it was given to hurt the earth and the sea. Saying, Hurt not the earth, neither the sea, nor the trees, till we have sealed the servants of our God in their foreheads. REV. VII. I- 3. REVELATION— ALL SAINTS' DAY. 183 QVAE VENTVRA TRAHVNTVR. ws Tous jnev l^e ^O^a" ^eovs S' eVi ireipao-t ycwt]'i elSoi' ie(XTcii6Tapr]ylSa, deoicn 8' 6 p^aKpov aOcre, Tois KpdTO<; iyyvdXi^e irarrip dv8pa>v re ^ewv re crivecrOai yaidv re Kat evpea vara daXdcrcryjs, rois 6 ^eots Tna-vpecrcnv iKeKXert) pcuKpov ducras" icrj^ere jutot ^eipas, //.'^ ir/Jtv /ca/ca ipSere yalav SevBped 6' vxjjLireTiqXa koI evpea vStra 0aXdcra-7)<;, trpiv Kev eir dcjtpvcrt tS>v ye Trar/aos (r^pyjylSa /3aXa>p,ev aicrtjota ot epSovcr, waras r' dXeyovcn ^e//,tcrras. ROBERT Y. TYRRELL. 184 DUBLIN TRANSLATIONS. PROTEVS. Est in Carpathio Neptuni gurgite vates, Caeruleus Proteus, magnum qui piscibus aequor Et iuncto bipedum curru metitur equorum. Hie nunc Emathiae portus patriamque revisit Pallenen ; hunc et Nymphae veneramur et ipse Grandaevus Nereus ; novit namque omnia vates, Quae sint, quae fuerint, quae mox ventura tra- hantur ; Quippe ita Neptuno visum est, immania cuius Armenta et turpis pascit sub gurgite phocas. Hie tibi, nate, prius vinclis capiendus, ut omnem Expediat morbi caussam, eventusque seeundet. Nam sine vi non ulla dabit praecepta, neque ilium Orando fleetes ; vim duram et vineula capto VIRGIL— PROTEVS. 185 TEPnN AAI02 NHMEPTH5. vaiu 8e ttovtov KapTradiovs yiavTL^ fiv^ov? U/awreus evaXios, oa-rrep i^6v(i)v o^olLKov yeVos ye/xui/ re Isirjpev?- oT8e yap fiavTus tol vvv TO 8' aS TTpocrepiTov koI to. ttjoIv ^e^iqKOTa, avaKTi, TovTo Sofav, oS TroraivLov (fypovpyjixa ^xukcov ^ovkoXcl 'v dXos /Jivxo'i'i' OVTO'S, T€KVOV, (Tol TrpS>6' okcoTOS iv TTcSaiS, oTTcos avaa-av avnav vocrrj fjiaros oei^r), 8t8a) re ^vyu^opa's \vcriv rivd. aet ya/3 a/ccui' Trpos /Stav p^avreverai XiTUiv arey k:to5" irpos Ta8' aypiav fiCav 186 DUBLIN TRANSLATIONS. Tende, doli circum haec demum frang-entur inanes. Ipsa ego te, medios cum sol accenderit aestus, Cum sitiunt herbae, et pecori iam gratior umbra est, In secreta senis ducam, quo fessus ab undis Se recipit, facile ut somno adgrediare iacentem. VIRGILIUS. VIRGIL— PROTEVS. 187 KoX Seor/i.' aXovTi irpoo'/SdXrj^' ol yap SdXoi TTavTcs cri,\ov(ra to Trplv Kol vvv (jyiXei fie Kovpy)' poB' ovv ere iroWa Kovprjv crre^eiv BiXav to trpocrOeu rjTovv, TToXw re cr alrSi' Tt oij (TV; TTokk oira4et5. /«£XXtcrre X**'/'^ iraiSwi', (f>ikov deSyv a0vpixa, irokXoiv Kai'r)(f)6p' avdeav Xeifiatva X'^^p' dydWcov. C. H. KEENK. 190 DUBLIN TRANSLATIONS. MACBETH DOES MURDER SLEEP, THE INNOCENT SLEEP. Q. How now, my lord ? why do you keep alone, Of sorriest fancies your companions making ? Using those thoughts which should indeed have died With them they think on. Things without all remedy Should be without regard: what's done is done. K. We have scotch' d the snake, not kill'd it ; She'll close, and be herself; whilst our poor malice Remains in danger of her former tooth. But let the frame of things disjoint, both the worlds suffer. Ere we will eat our meal in fear, and sleep In the affliction of these terrible dreams. That shake us nightly : better be with the dead, SHAKSPEARE— MACBETH. 191 01 ATTni KAKA TETXEI ANHP AAAQI KAKA TETXflN. KATT. ftii'ttf, Ti o-auTov wS' ip7)[i(o9evT €)((ov Xvypav \oyi(Xfi.Siv ttjvS' ofiiXCav cri^eL^ ; Tt 8' ws Iraipois raicrSe (ppovTicrLV crvveu otas a/i' i^Opols, S)v (rv (jipovrCCev^ iripi, XPW cvvdaveiv ; ay, aivTrep ovSkv e(rT a/cos, jxri /Sou/coXijcTTjs raur' iv' i^etpyaa-pevots. Air. ea" 7171' extSvav ovk inavaafjiev, povov 0ltol's Karco aira,^ (tvvolkuv (ous Ta^w KOLfiav eSet OTTws Tvpdvvoi? SefjLvCoig KOLfjiw[i€0a) y) V TO) (r^aSacTjLiftj twj/S' aKOLfii/JTav ttovov veoreLv aXvoDV. ou^ 6 Suctttji'os TraXat (Tweo-TW' AtS?; ; kovk dp' Ik irakiyKOToiv fiCov v6(T(iiv TjSeiav ev(j)p6vriv dyei; iv Ip-epov ^SeXet, o S17 SwuXecr' e/c fiaKpov ; koI /atji' ert BekKTrjpLov To^evfid crov, (fiiXov Kdpa, KevTSi fjue, Tovvofi ov "f^peoiv craive.w /*' dei. drripov ovofia, Kd^ Icrov ^LXov (j)(,Xr), a(j)0eyKTOv aiev evros icr^payicrfKivoiv evifnj^Ca. ai) ^eiXecw Kpv<^drfTi p,oi. rjirap, aiveTai yeypap,fJievov' <^ip i^aXeixfiar, 6p,p,dT(x)v ttCtvXoi. fidrrfv dp' evyp^drcov irpocrTjyopoi reyyo) irapeidv hvcnroTp-os, ttj^ yap (f}pevhTQ(roiJ.ev Xewcrcreiv ^dos orav SvvdiiJLed' iv Xej^ei irecreXv avev Tcov vvKTLirXdyKTwv Sva-0eov (^pei'os (fio^cjv TOiv alev ovroiV i$ vttvov o' dvdcrTacnv (TTTJvaL Si' evcrefieLav evdapcra?' drdp orav Xecopycav ipyfjidrcov fx.ep.vrjfiei'oi 'E/Divvas Kal KevTpa irepL(l)opcofie9a, 8l SiVTTep rjfiap cu9 fiapela viii Trpiirei, dx^o? TciS' yjSr), kov fiCo<;, yevyjaeTai,. A. (jipevol? 8' e/^' etSojs eiSdr' eS, iraOovTa re. dv^' wv ivocKiovcTL St) o'lij'aXXayels e)(Opoi';, SvcrdpKTot,? Xtj/jiacrLv, Treipdov S' CKvpoicr rj fipoTatv ijJLTreipio, ct)S Zr] '7r€(f)VK€ TavTa- TrapdSocriv evpovp', oavep ye ^ows eTTtecTTat, w r' a,fi(j)LTTepi,(TTe(j)eTaL Koa-fios, ve^ekav re tjxiXayya 8i^/3euei Ovyaxivoiv, vtto S' oTfjioi; jxeXavel ttoctIv Iv irTepvyecrcrt, dviXXiq^. yaLr}(o Sta- T^XajU,u8os Se Slktjv poov 'flKeavoG reXecos t^8' djiK^- eKdXu)/fa9- 202 DUBLIN TRANSLATIONS. Thy bountiful care what tongue can recite ? It breathes in the air, it shines in the light ; It streams from the hills, it descends to the plain, And sweetly distils in the dew and the rain. Frail children of dust, and feeble as frail, In Thee do we trust, nor find Thee to fail : Thy mercies how tender ! how firm to the end Our Maker, Defender, Redeemer and Friend. PSALM CIV. 203 rts S' eo^pov ^ot 'ya.piv av yXcocrcrr) KekaoeLv; TTvet yap jMiv arJTT)^, iv Se (f)d€L fjiapixaCpova opewv t eKpel TreSiovSe t eirippei TjKa KaracTTa^ovcra yXvKepdv re Spocrov Kai pevp. veTolo. ■f)p.el}v re ire<^u/cas, 877)01106/3705 ^' a;u,' dXefiKa/cos ^' ')7/xas o-w^ets /cal d/Awets. WILLIAM RIDGEWAY. 204 DUBLIN TRANSLATIONS. ARISTODEMUS, M. Whither away so fast, Aristodemus ? A. To find Callicrates, and tell him all. M. Callicrates stands here, awaiting sentence. The gods, who knew, delay' d him till thou camest. A. Speak to thy friend, Callicrates ! C- Speak thou. My lips are seal'd from speaking : yet I listen. A. Hear then the truth, O Minos, and thou, friend. Whose love was dearer to my soul than life ! It was midsummer at Thermopylae, Where we three hundred with our lion king Lay in the Straits awaiting what should happen. Then did the captain send me forth to seek A privy passage through Trachinian hills : For I was first of runners, stoutest-soul' d, Men said, of athletes ; and the love I bore SYMONDS—ARISTODEMUS. 205 EPnS ANIKATE MAXAN. M. ouTOS, Ti ^euyeis vcDTitras ctttouS^ Spofjiov ; A. KaWLKpaTrjv ws ai' Kix*"' ''"^ "''^^ (f)pa(r(iiv. M. icat /[iT7i' TO S6$av TrpocrBoKa Kpirais irapaiV vplv yap fioXelv (r eirecr^e ^eos viv ev p.add)v. A. ^iXo) Xeyois av, ^iXrar. K. dWa ya/3 jneyas vSv ^oSs CTTt yXaxray (rd(f) tcrffi 8' ws /cXvw. M. Mivcus, cru S' ovv TohqOis, aicrauTws 8e cru a-KOvcrov, ov rocrovrov rfpdcrOiqv epov. depopm]v Tivd opdv XeiraCaV 7]'S Karco, j3pCt,ovcr' oirws, CKeLTO Xip.v'iq Kvavea keCa 6' dp.a acrirep ctiStj/jos fecrros" yKaa-drj S' v8w/) ''H/3as ev ^Apyeu irorvtas veoi fiddpoi? TTpovfOTTiois els evpos, evd' dvetfiae TToXix; pecov Kol \ap,Trpb? d(f>pi£,a)v pva,^' KoX Trjv ')(a,pdSpav i^eiihrqij, d,Kpcov o-tto dpyv^eov vSacri Xetttov iv fjivproos nXeKcov fiLTOv' yovvTreTr)L£,e ireidd), koX aeXas KOpdv airo fjie(n)[iPpLvrj<; e^Xe£e Xa/A7raSos dipovi aWo^ rrXeov Kal ^(epcrlv e/creivas /aoav OLTravT ipvdpav koI iriireLpov 'ecrOe 817/ yeXcjv TTpocreiTT , 'el t,SyvTa tov KaXXi/cpari^v ^pTj^ets 0eacrdai,' Kara tol KeSvo's yeyws 8apov XetT/ots ^eoB 'ttws yoL/o ov;' yeycov iya> ' Svaf *Ep(us'' owK ■^i' ya/3 dpMijp.MV ottws ^ei8i7r7rt8Tjv Ilav 'ApKaSov iv ay/ceo-i irpocr(f)deyfioiT(i)v ttot ri^ioycr, 6t iopap^e 'Adijvodev "tiroipTrjvSe ttjv ipdap-iov t(TOU KOLT rjiJLap Koi /car' ev(j>p6v7)V tot ovu "E/aws ycl/3 e8oKei trpocryeKSxTLv 'EXXa8a pKiynLaai hi^ecrOai, os ws, o xo)vo<; acrerat /ieXwStai'. Kttt yap ej' ^rfpol'i Tovoicrt vd/JiaT e/cpayi^o-erai, ev t' ipyjixiaLCTL Xdfipov TroTajXLCov peCOpoiv crdevo'S. Kdv hpaKOVTeioiaC re jitai/tdSes (ppev6<;. Kayo) fiev iixwovv crS)p,a ^vv(ra-(ov aidpCav a/cpas iwl Kpva-TaWoTrfjyos, euda iracr a.Tvt,erai opvL^ fieroiKetv, ov8' virkp o-tu<^X'^s irer/aas jMUiai TTOTcovTai' Kara Se TnjSTjcras ttotc yooas ev'r])(ov, ckSiSovs Tovfjiov Se)u,as crTpo/Setv ikiySrjv ttovtcois k\vS(oviol';, T) TTOTa/jLLai? 8ivai,eL VLipovras; ws Xuei ri 817 PpoToiaLv otKTOs, TrXrjv Iv ef ivavTia<; crry rais afiapTiaicn ; kol iroia Xirwi' ^eia '(TTiv, el /jltj daripov rts C (f)(o TavT, e-)((av a)v ovveK eipyacrfiLaL (f>6vov, (TKrJTTTpoi', Xej^os re fiacrCKiKov, Kparos t ifiov ; TTws iyKpaTel rat twv ySta XeXijcr/Aevcov dt,yjp,La irpo^eipos ; tj SoacrTpoffyocs pel rdvddSe poatcrw, axjQ' ct^a/arias 218 DUBLIN TRANSLATIONS. And oft 'tis seen, the wicked prize itself Buys out the laws. But 'tis not so above. There is no shuffling ; there the action lies In his true nature, and we ourselves compell'd, Ev'n to the teeth and forehead of our faults. To give in evidence. What then ? what rests ? Try what repentance can ? what can it not ? Yet what can it, when one cannot repent ? O wretched state ! oh bosom black as death ! Oh limSd soul, that, struggling to be free. Art more engaged ! Help, angels ! make assay ! Bow, stubborn knees; and, heart, with strings of steel, Be soft as sinews of the new-born babe ! All may be well. SHAKSPEARE. SHAKSPEARE— HAMLET. 219 BiKTjv irapoiOelv X'^'-P o"^^vet ^uo'ovju.ei'T;, Trayoe/A'jroXa yap aOXou oKiOpiov i] tis" dXX' olttX^ TpoiTco Si/cd^eTai TO Trpa.yp.a, koX ^avkov ^pewv avTcSi' evavra tcjv Tretrk'qfiiLeK'qfLivoiv avTov Kad' avTOv ^wra firjvuTrjv Kvpeiv. /cat S'^ Tt XotTrov ; clia, ■ne.LpStp.ai rdXas, Ti Tis Swair' aj/ os p-eriyvoiK^v ; ti 8' ou; KaiTot Xuo"6S Tts, ju.^ perayvcovaL vapov; /ca/cws tritrpaKTai vdvTa' ov^, e^eo"Ti yd,p ttcds vpayos eS mTTTeiv rdSe. ROBERT Y. TYRRELL. 220 DUBLIN TRANSLATIONS. 'WELL FARES THE LAJSTD THAT BEARS SUCH FRUIT.' Lo, I stand Here on this brow's crown of the city's head That crowns its lovely body, till death's hour Waste it ; but now the dew of dawn and birth Is fresh upon it from thy womb, and we Behold it born how beauteous ; one day more I see the world's wheel of the circling sun Roll up rejoicing to regard on earth This one thing goodliest, fair as heaven or he Worth a god's gaze, or strife of gods; but now, Would this day's ebb of their spent wave of strife Sweep it to sea, wash it on wreck, and leave A costless thing contemned ; and in our stead Where these walls were and sounding streets of men, Make wide a waste for tongueless water-herds, And spoil of ravening fishes ; that no more Should men say, Here was Athens. SWINBURNE. SWINBURNE— ERECHTHEUS. 221 BPTXIA A' HXn nAPAMTKATAI. TrdXeojs crre^ovcrTjs, w to8' i(rTeai dpSrjv aicrTaxrcucrL' vvv 8' liw opocros \o^evixdrav r eirecrrti' euayecTTaTT^" rjjjiei? 6' opcaixev veoyovov Te^iq^ iKel olov TO KaXXo5' Kai Kar' rjp,ap av t6o€ rpoxov kvkXovvto? tjXlov iroKiacrvTOv Spafjiovd' opco, yeyrjde 8' elcr ^\iTru)V TraTTjp KoXkicrrov avdo? avros, dyXaiats Atos 6p,oiov, c3s re /cetvos evBvTov ydvei' 0etcov 6' dfJuXkav 6ewv re vpocrSeSopKOTcov d^Lov, iySfj-af vvv 8' av a/iTTwris ye /aijv lkaTO Kovprfv 17 Se e irapOivos aSr' ii\ei,, t'^v S' "AprefiL? eKra. ■fj fiev 8^ 6v7](TKOvaa 8C8ov Seiras ajJutftLKv'TTeXKov ')(fiv, eiv vyfjrjXola-i. Sd/iotcri, Tovs irpoyovoL ttot iSeifiav ivl prfyfuvi daXdcrcrrjq, 224, DUBLIN TRANSLATIONS. Up stood the gay old monarch, For the last time up he stood ; For the last time drain' d the blessed cup, And threw it in the flood. He saw it falling, filling, And sinking in the sea : His eyes lost sight of it, and sank, And never more drank he. GOETHE. GOETHE—FAUST. 225 TTJIJ.OS 6 Tois XtTrapws yrjpda-KCJv varar dvea-rr), vcrrar dvivTrj, e)(o)v 9' dyvov jLtera X^P^' KvireWov €KTTi.ev va-TaT d^ap, to Se Ka^/SaXev eis aXa Slav. Kau TO yepcov KaTaSiiv voTiSipKCTO ^ivdea \.ip.vrj<;, TTLfMrXdnevov 9' dfjua Kal fjt,avpovixei>ov otSjuari TTOVTOV, aW ov 8rjv ecn,Sev, p,avp(ii9rj(Tav 8e ol ocrcre, ovoi TTod' vcrrepov aurts oy' eKinev aWoira olvov. WILLIAM MDGEWAY. 226 DUBLIN TRANSLATIONS. IMOGEN. I SEE a man's life is a tedious one : I have tired myself, and for two nights together Have made the ground my bed. I should be sick, But that my resolution helps me. Milford, When from the mountain-top Pisanio show'd thee. Thou wast within a ken : O Jove ! I think Foundations fly the wretched ; such, I mean. Where they should be relieved. Two beggars told me I could not miss my way : will poor folks lie, That have afflictions on them, knowing 'tis A punishment or trial ? Yes ; no wonder, When rich ones scarce tell true. To lapse in fulness Is sorer than to lie for need, and falsehood SHAKSPEARE—CYMBELINE. Ill ANAPOBOTAON KEAP. ^ ra/oa XPVt''' O'^**'^? apcrevcav ^tos" Kol S-q T^TpvfJiai, SidSo)(ov yap ev(f)p6vriv TavTTjv iavQ} Sevrepav ^ajLtaiireTTjs. ivocrovv av rj^iq, /at) TrenrjyvLas vye2v Xpeias dpayol hoyp^aTOiv dvoaTpoi^aL TTol Stj TpaTTiap^ai ; kov TrkavrjcncrdaC ^ oSov TTTW^ol hv dvSpes eXvoV ■^ Trpda-crcov KaKU's fidvavfTos wv Tts ^evcreTaL, Kau yvova)VT(ov cnrdvLOv evopKel yivo<;' cr^erXtwre/ads tol TrkyfiLfiekSiv 6 irko'va'Los ■^ Svcr^epeia? ovve^ 6 ^evSrjyopoiv rpevSo? S' dvaKTi p.e.itflv ala-^vvqv (j)epei, Q2 228 DUBLIN TRANSLATIONS. Is worse in kings than beggars. My dear lord ! Thou art one o' the false ones. Now I think on thee, My hunger 's gone; but even before, I was At point to sink for food. But what is this ? Here is a path to 't : 'tis some savage hold : I were best not call ; I dare not call : yet famine, Ere clean it o'erthrow nature, makes it valiant. Plenty and peace breeds cowards : hardness ever Of hardiness is mother. Ho ! who 's here ? If anything that's civil, speak ; if savage. Take or lend. Ho ! No answer ? Then I'll enter. Best draw my sword ; and if mine enemy But fear the sword like me, he'll scarcely look on't. SHAKSPEARE. SHAKSPEARE—CYMBELINE. 229 1) Tois irhrqcriv' u> ^epicTTe Secnrorciv, crv 8' ^a-Oa Trpo's ^evarcov dp'' ^ XiXrjOoi irov acriro? ova-a, aov y €)(ovcr kTri ovK es (f>LXa)v ■^8', w? iocKev, avXiov oT/ios ju-' oStucret, TrpocrfioXeiu 8' dru^o/Aai' XwcTTov T av euy fi'^ [ji,o\eiv' iretvi) 8' o/xeT^S)v Toil's' ifjLol creo'a'yiJievQV, <^a)s etr' ava^Okv XeiTTOv auTO^etp e/xe (r)8eo"ai tckovs, eir' auToi/ oiaKO(rTpo€LV ttoXlv vpos ipfi davTov, eis re ttoi'Tioi' AlSrjv OfceiXai ^lAjpiOTrhqdrj /Sia povi dvfJiS TToW aKoXaoTCDs TJfnrXaKe vcofjiav. i^7]kei,xjjev KijXiSa [Jiarciv, ov 8' eKpaTrjaev 6dvaTo<; fjiop(l>rj's. ou fiev ajLte/Airros y , aAA. appov op,o}<; EuTjs TTafjifjiiQTopos epvos. eta, p.vhZvTo<; irikavov crrd/AaTos \\iv)(fiov ofiop^are, ;^aiT')7S re ^(Xi.Si^i' TrXe/cere ^avOrjv ap^rrvKO^ dcrcrovcrav aSecrfJLOv. o^Xos ws Oap-^el, ttSs tis iponSiv TOP ireXas aei p/qripa (jipd^eLV Tts voffev euT]' tC<; 8' 6 (f>vT€V(ras' 236 DUBLIN TRANSLATIONS. Who was her fathe« ? Who was her mother ? Had she a sister ? Had she a brother ? Or was there a nearer one Still, and a dearer one Yet than all other ? Oh ! for the rarity Of Christian charity Under the sun ! Oh ! it was pitiful, Near a whole city full. Home she had none. Fatherly, motherly. Sisterly, brotherly Feelings had changed. Love by harsh evidence Thrown from its eminence. Even God's Providence Seeming estranged ! HOOD. HOOD— THE BRIDGE OF SIGHS. 237 \iMV Ti Tokaivrj yivopov8op6vr)s yap T6acrev crvvcov, Kapirov o' aKapTTOv d)fi6(f)p(ov iSpe^aro. AiSiys o ya/A^/ads ecrri, KijSecrrT^s t' c/ao?, e)(et ye yij/^as tijv Kopiqv ddvoLfit Stj, Ketva T d(f>eCrji' iravra, rovS' d(f)ei<; jSCov. JOHN F. DA VIES. ET0ANA2IA. ei/epde /cetrai XX&iyots, ipvoaLve9' alp.d re, uirvw SafieXarav Zeus iKOLp-Kr'j.rjVLKa e/SX&pe TTpS)Tov ofifjiacTL crfiLKpoX<; o1 Suais irapov, ei ju,'^ TO Sei/Att /at; Ti Tois OavovcTLV y, Iv dcTKOTToi TeCvovcTLv dSittuXoi TrXd/ces, (}>p6uricrLv etpyev cjcrre rdcrSe o"u/A<^o/)ds crrepyeov iv oiko) (laXXov t] Brfpdv e/cei; a»s dvSpa SovXol ravra avwoeiv \iav, dvdo'S 8e dvfJLOv Tw , rjo ap yj poinq TTOTepd TL 6dp(roB' vTrvovp,4vovv PpoTcicDV iKKvXucrOevTas TreS&ij/, epirr} ti Seuvov <^d(Tix. er, Irt fieWyjTeov. TOLavO' VTTOUOMV CtKOTW? TCt TTlf/AaTtt icr^et Tis aKCJV Kal 7ra\t/i,/A')7Kous ^Cov. ov yap (/)(,\di/)vxds Tt? S)B' vrrepp.eTpcj'i 0)9 KevTpa Xvp-rju t aiev aicHvos 8ta, SHAKSPEARE— HAMLET. 245 oio-et, Tvpdvvdiv 9' vjSpiv, iv 8e Ta>v ayav (Tefivcav TTpoTrrjkaKKTfLov, okiympovfjiivov S' cpcoTo^ aXyos, /cdSt/covs Sikijs Tpi^a.<;, t5)v 8' ei/ TeXei rpvcfti^v re kol Xa/crtor/iara, Tkrjp,(i}V OCT apeTT) Kaprepovcr rjve(T)(eTO Tis av Toi' oyKov virop.4voL ;8/3u;)(WjU,evos iSpa>v re Ka/xaTW row TaXaiircopov fitov, ei /A-yj Tt Tap^TjcreLe Kara ras veprepa? Tcts SvcrTeKfLdpTov; /cat SucrefdSovs TrXa/cas o^ei' dueKvxIiev ouris; ei'^ev e/cTrXayels 6 vous ajSovXos (TviJL^LOvv TTpocrLerai KaKol<; TTapovcTi fidWov t) KdK acTKOira 6r)pdv airetpos. '^v ap' o Ti crweiSores SetXoi yeyovajxev iravTes, (XTToSwres 8' dcjtap Xpotd<; To8' dvdo's Tov (r(j)piyo)vTo<; l/j^epov Tcov fiakOaKMV to ^copov dvTap.eiPoiLev wcrirep 8e TroTap,cov peWp , iTri(nrip')(ovTd irep (TfjioSp' es TO TTopcrcj, TTpStves dvOecTTiqKOTe'i irkdt,ov(TLv aXkrj, TavTO, ^17 /ou/^ij (l)pev(ov aXXcus dt(Tcrei, kovk iirrflSoko^ /cXuet. JOHN F. DAVIES. 246 DUBLIN TRANSLATIONS. HENRY VI., Part I., Act IV., Scene s, Line 34. \The English will ie found on page 76.] TALBOT — JOHN TALBOT. T. T'f]v T-^s T€Kovvy(ov ; T. TTjvS' dyvLei ktjXIS' 6 &" orpvvas vaTyjp. I. eKfjiapTvprjcrat p.01 raS' ov hvva. davcov. HENRY BROUGHAM LEECH. TRANSLATIONS INTO LATIN. 248 DUBLIN TRANSLATIONS. HENDECASYLLABICS. O YOU chorus of indolent reviewers, Irresponsible indolent reviewers — Look, I come to the test, a tiny poem, All composed in a metre of Catullus ; All In quantity, careful of my motion, Like the skater on ice that hardly bears him, Lest I fall unawares before the people, Waking laughter in indolent reviewers. Should I flounder awhile, without a tumble. Through this metrification of Catullus, They should speak to me not without a welcom^e. All that chorus of indolent reviewers. Hard, hard, hard is it, only not to tumble. So fantastical is the dainty metre. Wherefore slight me not wholly, nor believe me Too presumptuous, indolent reviewers. O blatant magazines, regard me rather — Since I blush to belaud myself a moment — As some rare little rose, a piece of inmost Horticultural art, or half-coquette like Maiden, not to be greeted unbenignly. TENNYSON. TENNYSON— HENDECASYLLABICS. 249 CARMEN CATVLLIANVM. ignavi male iudices quot estis, exlegum pecus et pigerrimorum, en parvum in trutinam poema veni perscriptum penitus modis CatuUi, certis temporibus, memorque motus, ne lapsum, velut ire fune tento coner, fabula multa in urbe fiam, et dem iudicibus pigris cachinnos. tantum si titubem, ruina nee sim, hos dum versiculos sequor CatuUi, id, credo, id taciturn feram : sed omnis Tarparum ista hara salva sit pigrorum. durum est est modo ne cadam cavere, tarn mollis modus estque delicatus. quocirca neque vile me neque expers frontis ducite, iudices obesi. quin balatibus, o libri, remotis (iam tingit rubor ora glorianti) vobis bellula sim rosa, elegantis horti gloria, vel puella simplex, qualem non licet alloqui proterve. JOHN F. DA VIES. 250 D UBLIN TRANSLA TIONS. AUBURN. Where, then, ah ! where shall poverty reside. To 'scape the pressure of contiguous pride ? If to some common's fenceless limits stray'd. He drives his flock to pick the scanty blade, Those fenceless fields the sons of wealth divide. And ev'n the bare-worn common is denied. If to the city sped — ^What waits him there ? To see profusion that he must not share ; To see ten thousand baneful arts combined To pamper luxury, and thin mankind ; To see each joy the sons of pleasure know Extorted from his fellow-creature's woe. Here while the courtier glitters in brocade, There the pale artist plies the sickly trade ; Here while the proud their long-drawn pomps display, There the black gibbet glooms beside the way ; GOLDSMITH— THE DESERTED VILLAGE. QVANTVM DIMISSA PETITIS PRAESTAJSTT ! ergo ubi considet pauper cui proximus urgens eripiat dives tecta brevemque larem ? si pecus in nullo descriptos limite campos egerit, ut sterilis gramina carpat agri, arrogat at dives vel publica iugera campi, pauperibusque situ vel loca senta negat. quaesierit Romam — quid quaerere proderit immo ? quippe sitit vetitas, Tantalus alter, opes : in genus humanum coniuravisse nefandas mille artes, luxus mille alimenta, videt ; quot sibi Patricii delectamenta pararint plebeiis cernit suppeditata malis. scilicet ut Tyrio princeps splendescat in ostro hie grave pallescens textor adurget opus ; ducitur hie fulgens Capitolia ad alta triumphus, illic crux maestis imminet atra viis ; 252 DUBLIN TRANSLATIONS. The dome where Pleasure holds her midnig-ht reign, Here, richly deckt, admits the gorg^eous train : Tumultuous grandeur crowds the blazing square, The rattling chariots clash, the torches glare. Sure, scenes like these no troubles e'er annoy ! Sure, these denote one universal joy ! Are these thy serious thoughts ? — Ah ! turn thine eyes Where the poor houseless shiv'ring female lies. She once, perhaps, in village plenty blest, Has wept at tales of innocence distrest : Her modest looks the cottage might adorn. Sweet as the primrose peeps beneath the thorn. Now lost to all ; her friends, her virtue fled. Near her betrayer's door she lays her head ; And, pinch' d with cold, and shrinking from the show'r, With heavy heart deplores that luckless hour. When idly first, ambitious of the town-, She left her wheel and robes of country brown. GOLDSMITH. GOLDSMITH— THE DESERTED VILLAGE. 253 hie epulantur ubi media de nocte beati accipiunt festos atria festa chores ; luce nitent, reboant lautae clamore Carinae, dum pilenta ruunt dum rutilantque faces : ' nimirum,' dicas, ' tanta inter gaudia nunquam surg-it amari aliquid, laetus it usque dies ! ' falleris ah ! demens — i, lumina flecte, puellam contemplare istam, quae iacet, alget, eget : ilia, ut paganae cui quondam copia, flebat si narraretur capta puella viro : digna verecundo casulae decus addere vultu, primula ceu mediis semireducta rubis ; iam proiecta suis — proiecerat ipsa pudorem — en ! corruptoris sternitur ante fores ; et contracta gelu, pluviis tremebunda profusis, flet male felicem corde dolente diem, quom fatua, et fieri cupiens urbana, Minervam contempsit tenuem carbaseosque sinus. T. J. B. BRADY. 254 DUBLIN TRANSLATIONS. BILLY TAYLOR. Billy Taylor was a brisk young fellow, Full of mirth and full of glee, And his mind he did discover To a maiden fair and free. Four-and-twenty brisk young fellows, Clad in jackets' blue array, And they took poor Billy Taylor From his true love out to sea. His true love she follow' d after, Under the name of Richard Carr, And her hands they were bedaubed With the nasty pitch and tar. An engagement came on the very next morning. Bold she fought among the rest ; The wind aside did blow her jacket. And discover' d her lily-white breast. BILLY TAYLOR. 255 FVRENS QVID FEMINA POSSIT. acer erat nuUi non Mopsus idoneus arti, festivum pleno cum salis ore caput ; ille adiens facilem, qua non formosior ibat, Phyllida, quo penitus ferveat igne, refert. viginti iuvenes et bis duo, mascula pubes (tincta nitescebat murice cuique chlamys), corripiunt puerum, raptusque requirere amores cogitur amissos, et freta longa sequi. inde habitu sumpto Phyllis tituloque virili abreptum pelagi per mala dura petit, femineoque videt fastu retinacula tractans saepe picem teneras commaculare manus. proxima lux ridet : committitur aequore toto pugna : furit mixtis acrior ilia viris : flamina crebrescunt : tunica fluitante retecta femineum prodit nuda papilla sinum. 256 DUBLIN TRANSLATIONS. Now, when the captain he came for to hear of it, Says he, ' What wind has blown you to me ? ' ' Kind sir, I be come for to seek ray true love, Whom you press' d and sent to sea.' ' If you be come for to seek your true love. He from his ship is gone away ; And you '11 find him in London streets, ma'am. Walking with his lady gay.' So she rose up early in the morning, Long before the break of day. And she found false Billy Taylor Walking with his lady gay. Straight she call'd for swords and pistols, Which were brought at her command ; And she kill'd poor Billy Taylor, With his lady in his hand. When the captain he came for to hear of it. He very much applauded her for what she had done, And he made her first lieutenant Of the gallant ' Thunder Bomb.' IN CERT. BILLY TAYLOR. 257 quae res delata est postquam rumore magistro, 'quisnam,' ait, 'hue, virgo, te tulit unde Notus ? ' ilia, ' tot in casus, o dux metuende, marinos quern rapis, hunc quaerens per vada salsa vagor.' ' per vada salsa vagans quem tu, fortissima, quaeris, navis amatorem non habet uUa tuum ; i, propera Romam : comitatura pellice cernes ornata puerum, qui fuit ante, tuum.' proxima lux caelo non iam dimoverat umbras ; surgit ab inviso fida puella toro ; it, properat Romam : comitatum pellice cernit ornata puerum, qui fuit ante, suum. ' quis pharetram,' clamat, ' nemone hue ocius areum ?' nee mora : feminea sumpserat arma manu ; et puer amplexu nondum divulsus amicae — proh ! pudor — imbelli vulnere pressit humum. quae res delata est postquam rumore magistro, ' euge ! ' ait, ' infidos sic periisse iuvat ; ' et Ballista' — fuit navi hoe ab imagine nomen — ^ 'aequora te clavum, Phylli, regente seeet' ROBERT Y. TYRRELL. 258 D UBLIN TRANSLA TIONS. THALABA. Or, when the winter torrent rolls Down the deep-channelled raincourse 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 the yellow sands ? Beneath the lofty bank reclined With idle eyes 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. SOUTHEY—THALABA. 259 TALABAS. ubi in alveo imbre adeso fluvius ruit hiemans spumas agens, iugorum spolians nigra capita, madidas premens arenas niveis ibi pedibus Talabas vagatur. olli fluviique tonitrua animos tenant stupentes fremitusque celeripes ; et iam dubia voluptas malesanaque trepidat. ubi rivulus micanti sabulosus itinere remoransque vere flavet, mare parvulum ibi videt ripa sub ille celsa recubans, vagus oculos ; placidusque in aure captat cava murmura placida ; super interim inquietus recrepat ferus Aquilo, et arundines acutae fluitantia veluti vexilla deprimuntur curiiata columina. MAX CULLINAN. 260 D UBLIN TRANSLA TIONS. DIRGE FOR A MAIDEN. Underneath the sod low- lying, Dark and drear, Sleepeth one who left in dying- Sorrow here. Yet they 're ever bending o'er her Eyes that weep. Forms that to the cold grave bore her Vigils keep. When the summer moon is shining Soft and fair, Friends that loved in tears are twining Chaplets there. Rest in peace, thou gentle spirit. Throned above ; Souls like thine with God inherit Life and love. DIRGE FOR A MAIDEN. 261 NAENIA. heu tegit herboso Lalagen velamine caespes, lucifugaque domo ; nunc humilis dormit quae nobis mortua liquit nil nisi maestitiam. banc tarn en baud lacrimis dolor unquam pronus obortis spargere cessat humum ; non oculos claudit vigiles, quicumque feretri triste subivit onus. ast ubi candescens aestiva lampade Phoebe despicit in tumulum, fletur, at intextas fletu, pia dona, coronas fingit arnica manus. sit tibi, moUe caput, solium caeleste per annos ; sit tibi dia quies : talibus ambrosium dabitur felicibus aevum associare deo. HASTINGS CROSSLEY. 262 DUBLIN TRANSLATIONS. THE POET'S DEATH. Call it not vain : — they do not err Who say that, when the poet dies, Mute Nature mourns her worshipper. And celebrates his obsequies : Who say, tall cliff and cavern lone For the departed Bard make moan ; That mountains weep in crystal rill ; That flowers in tears of balm distil ; Through his loved groves that breezes sigh. And oaks in deeper groan reply ; And rivers teach their rushing wave To murmur dirges round his grave. SCOTT— THE POET'S DEATH. 263 MORS POETAE. non fabulas, non somnia inania fingfunt, poetam mors ubi ademerit, plorare Naturam, suique exsequias celebrare mutam cultoris. ilium namque sub invidas raptum tenebras aeriae gemunt rupes et antrorum recessus : flumine flet vitreo soluta montana moles : de lacrimantibus stillant odores ambrosii rosis ; perflantque per lucos amatos sollicitas Zephyri querellas : nee tristiores non referunt sonos querceta ; nee non, qui tumulum lavat, quae murmura effundant, ruentes ipse suas docet amnis undas. 264 DUBLIN TRANSLATIONS. Not that, in sooth, o'er mortal urn Those things inanimate can mourn ; But that the stream, the wood, the gale Is vocal with the plaintive wail Of those who, else forgotten long, Lived in the Poet's faithful song. MEMORY. Thus the ideas, as well as children, of our youth often die before us ; and our minds represent to us those tombs to which we are approaching : where, though the brass and marble remain, yet the inscriptions are effaced by time, and the imagery moulders away. LOCKE. LOCKE— MEMORY. ' 265 at non — quis haec tam finxerit inscius ?- possunt ad urnam plangere talia tam bruta feralem ; sed aurae et nemora et fluvii loquellas dant luctuosas, cum sibi naenias illi cient, qui, ne sopor improbus urgeret ignotos, fidelis carminibus viguere vatis. MNEMOSYNE. plurima sic mentis species, mihi si qua iuventa grata fuit dulci, mox instar prolis obivit incolumi genitore ; simillimaque ipsa videtur mens excepturo nostri caput omne sepulcro. stent lapides Parii, stent aera perennia ; voces, quas scalpsit pietas haud immemor, oblinet instans annorum series, fugaque innunjerabilis aevi. HASTINGS CROSSLEY. 266 ■ DUBLIN TRANSLATIONS. ANNIE'S TRYSTE. Your hand is cauld as snaw, Annie, Your cheek is wan and white : What gars ye tremble sae, Annie ? What mak's your e'e sae bright ? The snaw is on the ground, Willie, The frost is cauld and keen, But there's a burning fire, Willie, That sears my heart within. The Spring will come again, Annie, And chase the winter's showers. And you and I shall stray, Annie, Amang the Summer flowers. O bonnie are the braes, Willie, When a' the drifts are gane ; But my heart misgi'es me sair, Willie, Ye' 11 wander there alane. AYTOUN— ANNIE'S TRYSTE. 267 SI QVA FATA ASPERA RVMPAS ! pallent, Delia, cur genae ? friget cur nivlbus frigidior manus ? cur artus teneri tremunt ? ardent insolita cur oculi face ? durantur positae nives hiberni gelidis flatibus aetheris ; at pectus, Corydon, meum, heu! caecis penitus carpitur ignibus. brumam nubibus horridam grata ver roseum mox vice proteret : turn per rura vagabimur aestas flore novo quae decoraverit. quom diffugerit alta nix, ridebunt nitidis prata coloribus ; at tristissima praescius erres ne sine me corda subit timor. 268 DUBLIN TRANSLATIONS. will ye tryste wi' me, Annie ? will ye tryste me then ? I'll meet you by the burn, Annie, That wimples doon the glen. 1 daur na tryste wi' you, Willie, 1 maun na tryste ye here, But we'll hold our tryste in Heaven, Willie, In the spring time of the year. AYTOUN. SWEET WESTERN WIND. Sweet Western Wind, whose luck it is. Made rival with the air. To give Perenna's lips a kiss, And fan her wanton hair ; Bring me but one, I'll promise thee Instead of common showers. Thy wings shall be embalmed by me, And all beset with flowers. HERRICK— SWEET WESTERN WIND. 269 quin te constituis mihi venturam comitem vere novo meam, ut quondam prope rivuli ripas per siluam qui trepidat loquax ? ah ! non constituam tibi, nee fas est, soliti margine rivuli. sed, cum verna aderit dies, lucis Elysiis consociabimur. T. J. B. BRADY. AVRA VENI! quod tibi. Note, contigit beato, aeris levis aemulo, Perennae labra basiolis tuis adire, ventilare tibi comas protervas ; hue. Note, hue ades, adferas vel unum, sicque di. Note, sic deae me amabunt, ut lovis minime imbribus madebit rursus, at tua flosculis renidens ala turiferas olebit auras. ROBERT Y. TYRRELL. 270 DUBLIN TRANSLATIONS. TO DELIA. Fair the face of orient day, Fair the tints of opening rose ; But fairer still my Delia dawns, More lovely far her beauty shews. Sweet the lark's wild warbled lay. Sweet the tinkling rill to hear ; But, Delia, more delightful still Steal thine accents on mine ear. The flower-enamour' d busy bee The rosy banquet loves to sip : Sweet the streamlet's limpid lapse To the sun -brown' d Arab's lip : But, Delia, on thy balmy lips Let me, no vagrant insect, rove : Oh ! let me steal one liquid kiss, For, oh ! my soul is parch'd with \oy&. BURNS. BURNS— TO DELIA. in AD DELIAM. pulcher est soils redeuntis ortus ; pulcher est floris color explicati ; pulchrior solem superas rosamque, Delia, pulchram. dulcis indoctae canor est alaudae ; dulcis est lapsus trepidantis undae : dulcior longe tua vox amantis serpit in aurem. sic apis gaudet studiosa florum ore delibans roseos liquores ; sic Arabs gaudet recreans scatebris arida labra. non apis ritu temere avolantis in tuis labris mihi sit vagari ; hinc sinas haustum rapiam, levemque pectoris ignes. V. BOULGER, 272 DUBLIN TRANSLATIONS. THE BAIT. Come live with me, and be my love, And we will some new pleasures prove Of golden sands and crystal brooks, With silken lines and silver hooks. There will the river whispering run, Warm'd by thine eyes more than the sun ; And there the enamell'd fish will stay. Begging themselves they may betray. When thou wilt swim in that live bath. Each fish which every channel hath Will amorously to thee swim. Gladder to catch thee than thou him. Let others freeze with angling-reeds, And cut their legs with shells and weeds ; Or treacherously poor fish beset With strangling snare or windowy net ; DONNE— THE BAIT. 273 DVM CAPIMVS CAPIMVR. hue, Galatea, veni ; mea lux, age, gaudia mecum plurima nee solitis hie aditura modis, quot meus aureolis vitreus tibi rivus harenis eumque hamo tereti Seriea lina ferant. perstrepet aprieos tibi garrula lympha lapillos sole minus visu quam calitura tuo ; at tibi terga frequens pictus gemmantia piseis obvius astanti se feret ipse capi. balnea sive petes quando haee piseosa, ciebis undique flumineos ad tua labra greges : in te praecipiti met omnis amore protervus, eedet e't in laetas, laetior ipse, manus. frigidulus demptis calami moderator alutis eonchis et rigida earice crura seeet : aut nassas vafer aut interlucentia nodis retia letiferis insidiosa paret : 274 DUBLIN TRANSLATIONS. Let coarse bold hands from slimy nest The bedded fish in banks outwrest ; Let curious traitors' sleave-silk flies Bewitch poor fishes' wandering eyes. For thee, thou need'st no such deceit, For thou thyself art thine own bait ; The fish that is not catch' d thereby Alas ! is wiser far than L PEACE, PEACE ! Ye have not sowed in vain ! Though the heavens seem as brass. And piercing the crust of the burning plain Ye scan not a blade of grass ; Yet there is life within, And waters of life on high ; One morn ye shall wake, and the spring's soft green O'er the moisten' d fields shall lie. LYRA ANGLICANA. LYRA ANGLIC ANA— PEACE, PEACE'. 215 durus in arcano latitantia corpora limo audaci rapiat rusticus ungue licet : sive vagos pisces fallacis imagine muscae aera recurva astu dissimulante trahat. tu tamen illecebras, tali procul arte remota, unica materia ducis ab ipsa tua : piscis enim, qui te bene fugerit, aurea, visam, hei mihi ! plus nobis, suspicor, ille sapit. J. R. WEST. GRATA SVPERVENIET QVAE NGN SPERABITVR HORA. non vana tellus semina condidit ! ardore Titan ferveat aereo, glebamque vertenti calentem, non tenuis caput herba toUat ; vitale semper germen humo viget ; fons dius edit nectareas opes ; mox vernus humentes harenas cinget honor viridi corona. HASTINGS CROSSLEY. 276 DUBLIN TRANSLATIONS. BASE COMPARISONS. FALSTAFF — PRINCE — POINS. Fal. But, as the devil would have it, three mis- begotten knaves in Kendal-green came at my back and let drive at me ; for it was so dark, Hal, that thou could' St not see thy hand. Prince. These lies are like their father that be- gets them ; gross as a mountain, open, palpable. Why, thou clay- brained guts, thou knotty- pated fool, thou obscene, greasy tallow-catch — Fal. What ! art thou mad ? art thou mad ? is not the truth the truth ? Prince. Why, how could' st thou know these men in Kendal-green, when it was so dark thou could'st not see thy hand ? Come, tell us your reason : what sayest thou to this ? Poins. Come, your reason, Jack ; your reason. SHAKSPEARE—HENR Y IV. 277 MILES— PHILOCRATES—STASIMVS. M. turn tres simitu tunicis herbeis viri, dis meis iratis, homines intestabiles, a terg-o adorti valide me infestis petunt machaeris ; nam adeo tenebricosa nox erat non hercle nosses digitos tuos — P. eho, plenior periuriorum quam ipsa vaniloquentiast, et mons mendaciorum manufestissume ! quin, totum omentum, dicedum, et totum lutum, stultiloque, obstupideque, et stercorei sebi hama — M. quid ? num as cerritus ? quae te intemperiae tenent ? enim tune qui convincas vera repertus es ? P. die quidum, qui non potueris digitos tuos prae tenebris nosse, idem herbea istos cum schema noris ; cedo argumenta. 5. age, amabo loque- redum ! 278 DUBLIN TRANSLATIONS. Fal. What ! upon compulsion ? 'Zounds, an I were at the strappado, or all the racks in the world, I would not tell you on compulsion. Give you a reason on compulsion ! If reasons were as plentiful as blackberries, I would give no man a reason upon compulsion — I ! Prince. I'll be no longer guilty of this sin ; this sanguine coward, this bed-presser, this horse-back- breaker, this huge hill of flesh — Fal. 'Sblood! you starveling, you elf-skin, you dried neat's tongue, you stock-fish ! O for breath to utter what is like thee! you sheath, you bow- case, you vile standing-tuck — Prince. Well, breathe awhile, and then to it again : and when thou hast tired thyself in base comparisons, hear me speak but this. Poins. Mark, Jack. SHAKSPEARE. SHAKSPEARE—HENR Y IV. 279 M. mene argumenta invitum dare et ingratiis ! nollem equidem, si etiam scirem esse in mundo mihi tot cruciamenta apud Acheruntem quot cluent, dare argumenta invitus atque ingratiis. ita me di amassint, ut, si prae manu foret argumentorum copia alga vilior, dare denegarem invitus atque ingratiis. P. sed quid ego cesso a me apstinere hoc flagitium ? hie muricidus lurco, lectorum Acheruns, canteriorum lumbifragium, hie merus adeps — M. vae tibi, ieiuniose ! vae aetati tuae, mastruga, maena, vae ligula muriatica vitulina ! — qui mi vocula rebus suppetat unorsis quas tis esse similes autumem ! — vaginula, toxotheca, tum nihili verum — P. anhelitum ergo recipe, et eia ! denuo. et exempla turpia ubi adfatim cumulaveris, hoc animum advortas quod loquar. 5. hem ! hoc age. ROBERT Y. TYRRELL. 280 DUBLIN TRANSLATIONS. THE NURSERY OF NATIONS. Meantime o'er rocky Thrace and the deep vales Of gelid Haemus I pursued my flight ; And, piercing farthest Scythia, westward swept Sarmatia traversed by a thousand streams. A sullen land of lakes and fens immense, Of rocks, resounding torrents, gloomy heaths. And cruel deserts black with sounding pine ; Where Nature frowns ; though sometimes into smiles She softens, and immediate, at the touch Of southern gales, throws from the sudden glebe Luxuriant pasture and a waste of flowers. But, cold-compress' d, when the whole loaded heaven Descends in snow, lost in one white abrupt Lies undistinguish'd earth ; and, seized by frost, Lakes, headlong streams, and floods, and oceans sleep. THOMSON— LIBERTY. 281 GENTIS CVNABVLA NOSTRAE. interea Thraces scopulos gelidique per Haemi ima viam tendo fugiens, Scythiaeque recessus invadens vel ad occiduos iter usque novatum Sauromatas flecto, fluviis bis mille rigatos, si stagnantve lacus, largisve paludibus unda saxa lavat ; reboant amnes ; stant horrida campis tesqua salebrosis resona nigrantia pinu. Hie Natura dolet ; necnon tamen est ubi risus solvitur in faciles, quotiens contacta Favoni flaminibus subiti varies per vasta locorum luxuriante solo submittit daedala flores. at, cum frigoribus niveis onerantibus aether deciderit totus, strictim promiscua cano terra iacet tractu ; vaga tunc devincta pruinis flumina, torrentes, aequor sopor occupat unus. SAMUEL ALLEN. 282 DUBLIN TRANSLATIONS. LALLA ROOKH. 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. MOORE— LALLA ROOKH. 283 EX IMBRI SOLES. o quam venustus quam placidus redit nimbis fugatis candidior dies ! depraeliantes cum procellae iam rabiem posuere, et omnis nubes tepenti numine vanuit evicta Phoebi ; cum maris aequora campique, ceu blando sopore compositi, placide refulgent ; partu recenti credideris novam lucem renasci ; cum levia undique, erepta maternis iniqui turbinis arbitrio rosetis, iam puriori germina in aethere suspensa, ob iram depositam Aeolo grates odoratis rependunt muneribus ; pluviique rores, si quos tonanti nube Diespiter effudit herbis, illius illius flagrantis ardescunt gemelli, fulmina quam peperere, gemmae. T. J. B. BRADY. 284 DUBLIN TRANSLATIONS. BROUGHAM'S CASTLE. Armour rusting in his halls On the blood of Clifford calls : ' Quell the Scot,' exclaims the lance; ' Bear me to the heart of France ' Is the longing of the shield. ' Tell thy name, thou trembling field ; Field of death, where'er thou be, Groan thou with our victory ! Happy day, and mighty hour, When our Shepherd in his power, Mail'd and horsed, with lance and sword. To his ancestors restored, Like a reappearing star, Like a glory from afar. First shall head the flock of war.' WORDSWORTH. WORDSWORTH— BROUGHAM' S CASTLE. 285 ATTOS TAP E*EAKETAI ANAPA 2IAHP02. desidem poscunt sobolem Metelli arma se segni statione promat, iam situ foedo nimiumque longa pace peresa. ' provoca Pictos ! ' vetus hasta clamat : ' meque Gallorum medium in tumultum inferas ! ' inquit veteri vieta parma duello. ' nuncupa campum' repetunt minaci ore ' ubi in rixam trepidam ruamus : ' redde quae fuso citius cruore ' rura rubescant. ' o dies pulcher, venias ! avito ' ense cum cinctus galeaque tectus ' pastor heroum velit aemulari ' pristina gesta ' tot ducum ! cum vel reducis cometae, ' fulminisve instar procul audiendi, ' prodeat, ducatque gregem sequacem * Martis in ignes ! ' JOHN F. DAVIES. 286 DUBLIN TRANSLATIONS. MERRY WIVES OF WINDSOR. FALSTAFF — NYM — PISTOL. F. I AM glad, I am so acquit of this tinderbox ; his thefts are too open ; his filching is like an un- skilful singer ; he keeps not time. N. The good humour is to steal at a moment's notice. P. Convey, the wise it call ; steal, foh ! a fico for the phrase ! F. Well, sirs, I am almost out at heels. P. Why then let kibes ensue. F. There is no remedy ; I must cony-catch ; I must shift. P. Young ravens must have food. F. Which of you know Ford, of this town ? P. I ken the wight ; he is of substance good. SHAKSPEARE— MERRY WIVES OF WINDSOR. 287 MILES— NYMPHIVS—PLATAGIDORVS. M. di me ament ut congerronis volup estdeliquio mei, purus putus homo est malleolus ; nimium in pro- patulo harpagat ; prave succinit clependo, nihil! cantorum modo. N. ita mecastor bene subripies, dicto ut citius hoc agas. P. apagesis, non hoc ego empsim verbum lieu putida ! homines graphici conciliare non subripere se au- tumant. M. per soleas dispiciunt calces. p siris igitur lippiant. M. pol sum ad incitas redactus, venaturast iam mihi aliquovorsum faciunda. p estur, inquiunt, corniculis. M. Chariclem hie habitantem ecquis novit ? p novi callide, et scio locupletem hominem. 288 DUBLIN TRANSLATIONS. F. My honest lads, I will tell you what I am about. P. Two yards, and more. F. No quips now. Pistol : indeed, I am in the waist two yards about; but I am now about no waste ; I am about thrift ; briefly, I do mean to make love to Ford's wife. SHAKSPEARE. EPITAPH ON A DEBTOR. An arch accountant here is laid. Who borrow' d, and who never paid. If he's in Heaven, I could swear, That he is upon credit there. EPITAPH ON A DEBTOR. M. scitin igitur quae mihi circumscriptio — P. quinque enim vix cubitis minor. M. hui ! captiones, obsecro, face conpendi : medio haud quaero quae mihi circumscriptiost ; sed vobis in medium quaero, mihique ; ne longum morer, mulierem mi Chariclis huius in animo est circum- scribere. ROBERT Y. TYRRELL. CAELVM NON ANIMVM. hoc qui sub tumulo iacet sepultus, prudentissimus ille debitorum, nunquam reddidit aera mutuatus. si nunc arva tenet beata, naulum ne vivam nisi debeat Charoni. T. J. B. BRADY. 290 DUBLIN TRANSLATIONS. FATHER WILLIAM. (From Alice in Wonderland.) ' You are old, Father William,' the young man said, ' And your hair has become very white ; And yet you incessantly stand on your head — Do you think at your age it is right ? ' ' In my youth,' Father William replied to his son, ' I fear'd it might injure the brain ; But now I am perfectly sure I have none — Why I do it again and again.' ' You are old,' said the youth, ' as I mention' d before. And have grown most uncommonly fat ; Yet you turn'd a back-somersault in at the door — Pray, what is the reason of that ? ' ' In my youth,' said the sage, as he shook his grey locks, ' I kept all my limbs very supple By the use of this ointment — one shilling the box — Allow me to sell you a couple ? ' CARROLL— FATHER WILLIAM. 291 CALLIDVS ALIPTES. ' te, genitor, senuisse vides' (ita filius olim) ; ' albent matura tempora canitie : vertice demisso pedibus sublimia captas ? corporibus tardis haec, mihi crede, nefas.' ' abstinui iuvenis,' pater inquit, ' talibus ausis, ne qua foret cerebro noxia facta meo : at genio quis me nunc indulgere vetabit expertum capiti nuper inesse nihil ? ' ' te senuisse vides, si fas iterare querellam ; crescunt crura tibi pinguia, pingue latus ; te tamen inverses dantem trans limina saltus miror : quae tanti causa furoris erat ? ' Nestoreos agitans crines, ' mihi contigit,' inquit, ' membrorum summa mobilitate frui : hoc ceroma vides ; cessas emere? imgnere; nummo (sume duos) uno venditur unus onyx.' 292 DUBLIN TRANSLATIONS. ' You are old,' said the youth, ' and your jaws are too weak For anything- tougher than suet ; Yet you finish' d the goose, with the bones and the beak — Pray, how did you manage to do it ? ' ' In my youth,' said his father, ' I took to the law, And argued each case with my wife ; And the muscular strength which it gave to my jaw Has lasted the rest of my life.' ' You are old,' said the youth ; ' one would hardly suppose That your eye was as steady as ever ; Yet you balanced an eel on the end of your nose — What made you so awfully clever ? ' ' I have answer'd three questions, andthat is enough,' Said his father ; ' don't give yourselves airs ! Do you think I can listen all day to such stuff ? Be off, or I'll kick you down stairs ! ' LEWIS CARROLL. CARROLL— FATHER WILLIAM. 293 ' indoluit, genitor, quotles gingiva senilis, ipsa nocent tactu mollia larda suo ; at, quaeso, anser ubi est ? non ossa neque ora supersunt ; o vires raras insolitamque gulam ! ' ille sub haec : ' olim causas ego publicus egi, ac reduci parvum fit domus ipsa forum ; qui mihi maxillas his viribus induit usus, ut senio haud fractus manserit ille vigor.' ' at, pater, annoso nemo iam sanus ocello virtutem priscam credat inesse tuo ; anguillam tamen hanc — opus admirabile — naso, die mihi, librasti qua ratione, pater ? ' ' plura nefas ! tria iam dedimus responsa petenti ; hinc,' genitor, ' fastus, hinc, puer, aufer,' ait : ' tene diem totum nugas trivisse canentem ! i — pedibus nostris eiiciendus abi ! ' HASTINGS CROSSLEV. 294 DUBLIN TRANSLATIONS. A LOVER'S MISGIVINGS. Thyrsis, when we parted, swore Ere the spring he would return — Ah ! what means yon violet flower, And the bud that decks the thorn ? 'Twas the lark that upward sprung ! 'Twas the nightingale that sung ! Idle notes ! untimely green ! Why this unavailing haste ? Zephyr winds and skies serene Speak not always winter past. Cease, my doubts, my fears to move — Spare the honour of my love. GRA V—A L O VER 'S MISGIVINGS. 29S PLENA TIMORIS AMANS. in mea iurabas proficiscens, perfide, verba, ' cum primo repetam, lux mea, vere domum ' ; quid sibi picta volunt multo violaria flore ? quaeque rubum decorant quid sibi, Thyrsi, rosae ? fallor, an ille canor Philomelae percutit aures ? fallor, an alta petens spernit alauda solum ? immature color ! non tempestiva querella ! sicine iam vernus praeripiendus honor ? detonuit num bruma, semel si luppiter albus, cogitur et Zephyro ponere flante minas ? ah ! nolite metus, nolite movere timores — vivat amatoris non temerata fides. RALPH S. BENSON. 296 DUBLIN TRANSLATIONS. SALLY IN OUR ALLEY. Of all the girls that are so smart, There's none like pretty Sally; She is the darling of my heart, And she lives in our alley. There is no lady in the land Is half so sweet as Sally ; She is the darling of my heart, And she lives in our alley. Her father he makes cabbage-nets. And through the streets does cry 'em ; Her mother she sells laces long To such as please to buy 'em : But sure such folks could ne'er beget So sweet a girl as Sally ! She is the darling of my heart, And she lives in our alley. CAREY—SALLY IN OUR ALLEY. 297 TOTA MERVM SAL. nulla inter nitidas, puto, puellas conferri lepidae potest Megillae : meae deliciae est, mei lepores, iuxta nos habitans in angiportu. ecquae nobilis et superba virgo tam mellitula quam Megilla vivit ? illam depereo intimis meduUis iuxta nos habitantem in angiportu. pauper cauliculis meae puellae pater reticula et facit tuendis, et venalia clamitat per urbem ; at matercula venditat puellae limbos, quisquis emet, laboriosos. sed credas cave plebe de scelesta tales delicias fuisse natas : illam. plus oculis amo gemellis iuxta nos habitantem in angiportu. 298 D UBLIN TRANSLA TIONS. When she is by I leave my work, I love her so sincerely ; My master comes like any Turk, And bangs me most severely ; But let him bang his bellyful, I'll bear it all for Sally; She is the darling of my heart. And she lives in our alley. Of all the days that's in the week, I dearly love but one day. And that's the day that comes betwixt A Saturday and Monday ; For then I'm drest all in my best To walk abroad with Sally ; She is the darling of my heart. And she lives in our alley. My master carries me to church. And often am I blamed Because I leave him in the lurch As soon as text is named ; I leave the church in sermon-time And slink away to Sally ; She is the darling of my heart, And she lives in our alley. CAREY— SALLY IN OUR ALLEY. 299 ad nos cum mea ventitat puella, confestim, quod erat mihi negoti, qui tarn perdite amem, lubens omitto : existit similis truci Britanno iracundus erus, meisque malis infringit colaphos severiores : sed per me colaphis iecur saginet ; plagas nil moror ob meam puellam : meae deliciae est, mei lepores, iuxta nos habitans in angiportu. non huius facio dies profestos — festi plus oculis meis amantur ! tum demum licet ire feriatum, et cultum pretiosiore veste cum cara spatiarier puella : illam depereo impotente amore iuxta nos habitantem in angiportu. adsisto, domino trahente, sacris, et male audio identidem, quod inde, orarit bona verba cum sacerdos, erum inter medias preces hiantem linquens, aufugio ad meam puellam : quae desiderium meum est, meum mel, iuxta nos habitans in angiportu. 300 DUBLIN TRANSLATIONS. When Christmas comes about again, O then I shall have money ; I'll hoard it up, and box it all, And give it to my honey : I would it were ten thousand pound, I'd give it all to Sally; She is the darling of my heart. And she lives in our alley. My master and the neighbours all Make game of me and Sally, And, but for her, I'd better be A slave, and row a galley ; But, when my seven long years are out, O then I'll marry Sally — O then we'll wed, and then we'll bed, But not in our alley ! CAREY—SALLY IN OUR ALLEY. 301 Saturnalia laeta cum redibunt, prae manu quid erit mihi lucelli, quantum quantum erit, arcula repostum, dabo melliculo meo nitenti : di faxint deciens sit ! usque ad assem effundam in gremium meae puellae : nam desiderium meum est, meum mel, iuxta nos habitans in angiportu. at vicinia tota erusque mordax ludos me facit, et meos amores : et credo, nisi quod levat puella, vitam vivere liberaliorem servos lautumiis datos in aevum : sed post tempora tarda servitutis a praetore meusque pileatusque egressus dominam volens volentem ducam. Hymen Hymenaee ! — at in malam rem nostrum abire sinemus angiportum ! ARTHUR PALMER. 302 DUBLIN TRANSLATIONS. THE GIFT. Say, cruel Iris, pretty rake, Dear mercenary beauty, What annual offering shall I make Expressive of my duty ? My heart, a victim to thine eyes. Should I at once deliver. Say, would the angry fair one prize The gift, who slights the giver ? A bill, a jewel, watch, or toy, My rivals give, and let 'em ; If gems or gold impart a joy, I'll give them — when I get 'em. I'll give, but not the full-blown rose. Or rosebud, more in fashion ; Such short-lived offerings but disclose A transitory passion. I'll g-ive thee something yet unpaid. Not less sincere than civil ; I'll give thee, ah ! too charming maid, I'll give thee — to the d . GOLDSMITH. GOLDSMITH— THE GIFT. 303 ESSE QVID HOC DICAM ? die, mea lux, emendos quam iuvat risus facili saevitia negare, quae redeunte dona largiens anno, doceam quo peream calore ? demne manus ? amantem me tuis dedamne oculis, Lydia dura, captum ? cui tamen haec iniquae sordeat laurus nihili tantulum erit tropaeum. sarcinulis et auro te petat si quia caleat, me nihil invidente, talia mille, talis si iuvat cultus, tribuam, ni mihi di negarint. non rosa, non adulta matre quae nostris potius gemma placet puellis, te doceat quid urar, flos brevis, qualive iecur torquear igne lento. perpetui caloris pignus, illaesaeque fide, non tibi adhuc tributum, Lydia, die amanti, esse quid dicam : teneo : do laqueum puellae. ROBERT Y. TYRRELL. 304 DUBLIN TRANSLATIONS. THE SILENT LOVER. Few the words that I have spoken — True love's words are ever few ; But by many a speechless token Hath my heart discoursed to you. Souls that to each other listen, Hear the language of a sigh ; Read the silent tears that glisten In the tender trembling eye. When your cheek is pale with sadness, Dimmer grows the light of mine ; And your smiles of sunny gladness In my face reflected shine. Though my speech is faint and broken. Though my words are ever few ; Yet by many a voiceless token All my heart is known to you. KByNEDY— THE SILENT LOVER. 305 MVTVS AMOR. pauca quidem dixi, cultor taciturnus amabam, fidus amans semper multa tacere solet ; attamen indiciis mea corda silentibus usa saepe tibi sensus exhibuere suos. Concordes animae quid egent interprete lingua ? coUoquii gemitus scilicet instar habent ; literulis illae quid egent ? i, perlege guttam luminibus teneris quae tremebunda nitet. cum tibi soUicitae pallet flos iste genarum, turn mea contristat mutuus ora dolor ; et tibi laetanti vultus cum risus inaurat, ora repercussa tum mea luce nitent. quid quod lingua labat mediaque in voce resistit, atque amor eloquium praepedit ipse suum ? quod lateat tacito non enarrabile corde pluribus indiciis tu, mea vita, tenes. T. J. B, BRADY. 306 DUBLIN TRANSLATIONS. MARY. ' Oh ! it's time I should speak to your father, Dear Mary,' says I. ' Oh ! don't speak to my father,' says Mary, Beginning to cry ; ' For my father he loves me so dearly. He ne'er will consent I should go ; If you speak to my father,' says Mary, ' He'll surely say no ! ' ' Then I think I must speak to your mother. Dear Mary,' says I. ' Oh ! don't speak to my mother,' says Mary, Just wiping her eye ; ' For mother says men are deceitful ; She never will give her consent. And that girls in a hurry to marry At leisure repent.' S. LOVER— MARY. 307 TETAA0I MOI, KPAAIH. ' iam manet orandus genitor tuus,' inquit Alexis, ' o magis his oculis cara Corinna mihi.' ' heu ! minime' clamat 'pater est adeundus amanti,' irrigat ut teneras lacrima fusa genas, ' ah ! nescis, nescis, quali foveatur amore filia, non questus audiet ille tuos ; orabis frustra talem, carissime, patrem, invida ferventes auferet aura preces.' ' at genetrix oranda tamen ; nam moUior aegri femina non nihili pendere vota solet' ' hanc quoque tu' clamat, lacrimam dum siccat obortam, ' hanc caveas, nihili moUia verba facit ; haec tibi num credet, nullam quae semper amanti quamvis iurato dictitat esse fidem ? praeripiatque faces citius si vana iugales, mutatos sero flere dolore deos.' 308 DUBLIN TRANSLATIONS. ' Then how shall I get you, my jewel, Dear Mary ? ' says I ; ' If your parents will both be so cruel, I surely must die.' ' Oh never say die, love,' says Mary, ' The way to relieve you I see : Since my parents are both so contrary. You'd better — ask me ! ' SEA-SHORE STANZA. Methinks I fain would lie by the lone sea, And hear the waters their white music weave ! Methinks it were a pleasant thing to grieve, So that our sorrows might companion' d be By that strange harmony Of winds and billows, and the living sound Sent down from heaven when the thunder speaks Unto the listening shores and torrent creeks, When the swollen sea doth strive to burst its bound ! BARRY CORNWALL. BARRY CORNWALL— SEA-SHORE STANZA. 309 ' die igitur tandem, vita mihi carior ipsa, die misero, quonam sis potiunda modo. non exorandi si te genuere parentes, quid me ni fatis oceubui.sse manet ? ' ilia ' omen procul hoc absit, carissime ; restat non tibi nil tantis quo medeare malis ; si mens heu durat non exoranda parentum, quin natam, frustra non abiturus, adis ? ' ROBERT Y. TYRRELL. HVMIDA ALBICANTIS LOCA LITORIS. deserta ponti visere litora, audire fluctus mens avet, albicans qua spuma vocalem coroUam nectit aquis. socios dolores fudisse tali fert animus loco ! sic cum querellis se magicum melos misceret aurarum, gemente oceano, quotiens caducos caelum fragores detonuit, vada aurita diis vocibus adloquens ; cum saevus eruptis minatur obiicibus vagus ire pontus. HASTINGS CROSSLEY. 310 DUBLIN TRANSLATIONS. SOLACIA VICTIS. (the fikeworshippers.) What ! while our arms can wield these blades, Shall we die tamely ? die alone Without one victim to our shades, One Moslem heart, where, buried deep. The sabre from its toil may sleep ? No. God of Iran's burning skies. Thou scorn' St th' inglorious sacrifice. No, though of all earth's hopes bereft. Life, swords, and vengeance still are left. We'll make yon valley's reeking caves Live in the awe-struck minds of men Till tyrants shudder, when their slaves Tell of the Gheber's bloody glen. Follow, brave hearts ! This pile remains. Our refuge still from life and chains ; But his the best, the holiest bed, Who sinks entomb' d in Moslem dead. MOORE— LALLA ROOKS. 311 ADAH 0ANEIN. bracchia num languent ? num sic moriemur inulti, victima nee nostris ferietur Manibus ulla, sangnine quo vili fessus requieverit ensis ? hoc — pro flammantis Sol lustrans ardua caeli — respuis indignum. vivendi sordeat omnis causa, sed armatis vita at vindicta supersunt. hanc facite ut vallem tepidasque cruore cavernas religione sua per pallida saecla nefandas laetantes cantent servi trepidentque tyranni ! festinate mori mecum, fortlssima corda ! vitam servitiumque dabit fugisse supremus ignis et ille rogus. quamquam o latuisse iuvaret strage sub hostili ; virtus sic obruta gaudet. T. MAGHIRE. 312 DUBLIN TRANSLATIONS. STANZAS ON WOMAN. When lovely woman stoops to folly, And finds too late that men betray, What charm can soothe her melancholy, What art can wash her guilt away ? The only art her guilt to cover, To hide her shame from every eye. To give repentance to her lover, And wring his bosom, is — to die. GOLDSMITH. GOLDSMITH— STANZAS ON WOMAN. 313 VLTIMA. quae, virgo, in facilem male declinaris amorem, heu proditorem senties serius esse virum ; quis poterit tantos Orpheus mulcere dolores ? culpam quis admissam valet eluere arte magus ? tu si quaesieris, quae sit via sola medendi, ne plebe monstretur palam prodita nequities ; quo leve cor luctus, quo vivus distrahat angor, misella, mortis i viam — mors tua sola salus. ALFRED P. GRAVES. 314 DUBLIN TRANSLATIONS. THE PLAGtOE OF A SERVING-MAN. A PLAGUE of my master to send me out this dread- ful dark night to bring the news of his victory to my lady : and was I not bewitched for going on his errand without a convoy for the safeguard of my person ? How am I melted into sweat with fear ? I am diminished of my natural weight above two stone. I shall not bring half myself home again to my poor wife and family. I have been in ague fit ever since shut of evening, what with the fright of trees by the highway, which looked maliciously like thieves by moonshine, and with bulrushes by the river-side that shaked like spears and lances at me. Well, the greatest plague of a servingman is to be hired to some great lord ! They care not what drudgery they put upon us, while they lie lolling at their ease a-bed, and stretch their lazy limbs. DRYDEN. DRYDEN— AMPHITRYON. 315 NVNTIVS. di maxumo, ere, te mactent infortunio, qui tenebricosa hac noctu me emissti foras, tuas res bene gestas nuntiatum erae domum. ne ego hodie infelix dis meis iratissumis sine uUo praesidio, qui me praestarent fore incolumem, egressus fuvi. di bene me adiuvent ut in sudorem solvor prae formidine ; sum iam hercle libris levior praeut dudum fui viginti pondo ; vix equidem ad proprios Lares referam me dimidiatum. hanc noctem perpetem cum Vesperugo exortast, quartan a horreo, ita mihi ad lunam ob viam obsitae arbores quasi fures essent miserum iniecerunt metum, et tragularum ad exemplum motae arundines. ecastor pestis nulla adaeque est atque ubi servit quis servitutem apud opulentum erum ; nam illi quidem lecto malaco malaci obdormiunt, nee curant quod servo exhibeant negotium. ROBERT Y. TYRRELL. 316 DUBLIN TRANSLATIONS. DRINKING SONG. Come, old friend ! sit down and listen ! From the pitcher placed between us, How the waters laugh and glisten In the head of old Silenus ! Old Silenus, bloated, drunken, Led by his inebriate Satyrs ; On his breast his head is sunken ; Vacantly he leers and chatters. Fauns with youthful Bacchus follow ; Ivy crowns that brow supernal As the forehead of Apollo, And possessing youth eternal. Round about him fair Bacchantes, Bearing cymbals, flutes, and thyrses. Wild from Naxian groves, or Zante's Vineyards, sinq- delirious verses. LONGFELLOW— DRINKING SONG. 317 IH2I SEHTON NEIA02 ETHOTON PE02. hospes, sodalem me veterem, vetus, sic stratus audi, quam micat in cado caelata Sileni per ora Bandusiae liquor at renidet ! pinguem et madentem Capripedes ferunt (ipsi madentes non levius) senem ; qui, vertice in pectus relapso, vana crepat vacuumque ridet. Fauni sequuntur, non sine Libero ; excelsa cui frons, qualis ApoUinis, vittata lascivis corymbis, perpetua fruitur iuventa. circa venustae Bistonides choro, thyrsos ferentes, tympana, tibias, bacchantur ; effusae Zacynthi saltibus, uviferaeque Diae. 318 DUBLIN TRANSLATIONS. Thus he won, through all the nations, Bloodless victories, and the farmer Bore, as trophies and oblations, Vines for banners, ploughs for armour. Judged by no o'er-zealous rigour, Much this mystic throng expresses : Bacchus was the type of vigour. And Silenus of excesses. These are ancient ethnic revels, Of a faith long since forsaken : Now the Satyrs changed to devils Frighten mortals wine-o'ertaken. Now to rivulets from the mountains Point the rods of fortune-tellers ; Youth perpetual dwells in fountains — Not in flasks, and casks, and cellars. Claudius, though he sang of flagons, And huge tankards fill'd with Rhenish, From that fiery blood of dragons Never would his own replenish. LONGFELLOW— DRINKING SONG. 319 sic orbe toto sang-uinis insclos egit triumphos ; cultor ubi ferox nee signa traduxit nee arma, vomere palmitibusque onustus. haec non iniquus si reputaveris, multum doeebit te thiasus saeer ; monstrante Sileno nocentem luxuriam, Bromioque vires. mutata cultum saecula pristinum, et tot furores destituunt diu : Faunosque iam vino petiti et Furias pariter pavescunt. potanda monstrat iam radio magus delapsa rivi flumina montibus. Hebe colit fontes, perosa horreaque et cyathos cadosque. grandes lagenas Claudius ut eanat, quas vitis explet Rhaetiea, ne suos cavit coronaret eulullos ille cruor calidus draconum. 320 DUBLIN TRANSLATIONS. Even Redi, though he chaunted Bacchus in the Tuscan valleys, Never drank the wine he vaunted In his dithyrambic sallies. Then with water fill the pitcher, Wreath' d about with classic fables ; Ne'er Falernian threw a richer Light upon LucuUus' tables. Come, old friend ! sit down and listen ! As it passes thus between us, How its wavelets laugh and glisten In the head of old Silenus ! LONGFELLOW. AN EPITAPH. Underneath this marble herse Lies the subject of all verse — Sidney's sister, Pembroke's mother: Death, ere thou hast slain another. Learn' d and fair, and good as she. Time shall throw a dart at thee. BEN JONSON. yONSON—AN EPITAPH. 321 quin et peritus Redius Evium cantare Tuscis vallibus, haud tamen tentator hausit dithyramb! vina suo celebrata versu. ergo disertis amphora fabulis vestita circum sit mihi plena aquae : non mensa Luculli refulsit purpureo melius Falerno. audi, sodalis, sic temere accubans : dum nos revisit sic scyphus in vices, caelata Sileni per ora fluctuat ut liquor et renidet ! JOHN F. DAYIES. H. S. E. hoc femina iacet sub marmore sepulta quam plurimi toUebant laudibus poetae. soror fuit Metelli, Scipionis mater, at antequam talem, mors, feminam rapueris doctam, pulchram, probatam, qualis ilia fuit, ipsam petet letali te dies sagitta. ARTHUR PALMER. 322 DUBLIN TRANSLATIONS. COME NOT WHEN I AM DEAD. Come not, when I am dead, To drop thy foolish tears upon my grave, To trample round my fallen head, And vex the unhappy dust thou would' st not save. There let the wind sweep, and the plover cry ; But thou, go by. Child, if it were thine, error or thy crime I care no longer, being all unblest ; Wed whom thou wilt, but I am sick of time. And I desire to rest. Pass on, weak heart, and leave me where I lie : Go by, go by. TENNYSON. TENNYSON— COME NOT WHEN I AM DEAD. 323 NEMPE TVAS LACRIMAS LITORA SVRDA BIBENT. ne meum vanis lacrimis sepulcrum fleris, insultans capiti perempto ; quid quiescentem moveas opem cui dura negabas ferre viventi, cineresque vexes ? saeviant Cori super ossa, parra occinat ; sed tu cinerum facessas immemor horum. sive te lusit malesuadus error, flagiti seu conscia mens adegit — nil moror, quern sors manet hie ab omni parte molesta ; mens avet pacem ; piget huius aevi : cui velis nubas sino, at hinc abito, impotens, ito, cinerumque pergas immemor horum. ROBERT Y. TYRRELL. Y2 324 DUBLIN TRANSLATIONS. REQUIESCAT. 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 them in smiles and glee ; But her heart was tired, tired, And now they let her be. Her life was turning, turning, In mazes of light and sound ; But for peace her soul was yearning, And now peace laps her round. Her cabin' d ample spirit Flutter' d and fail'd for breath ; To-night it doth inherit The vasty hall of death. MATTHEW ARNOLD. ARNOLD— REQ UIESCA T. 325 FVNGAR INANI MVNERE. hue adeste, rosae, rosae, puella est vobis cumulanda ; sed profanae taxi vos procul este ; quam profundum dormit ! o utinam haud secus quiescam ! ilia tarn lepidaque tamque bella in risusque soluta gaud ium que urbs se posse carere denegabat ; taedebat sed enim sui puellam, taedebat ; sinite otio fruatur ! festis scilicet orbibus voluta delicatior ibat, ibat aetas ; ast inter strepitumque opesque Romae hoc unum omnibus expetebat usque votis ut requiesceret ; quiescit. arto limite comprimente mundi mens divinior aestuabat ilia ; mox elanguit, et tuam nova heres nunc amplam, Libitina, crevit aulam. T. J- B. BRADY. 326 D UBLIN TRANSLA TIONS. ISLE OF PALMS. Oh many are the beauteous isles Unknown to human eye, That, sleeping 'mid the ocean's smiles. In happy silence lie. The ship may pass them in the night, Nor the sailors know what a lovely sight Is resting on the main ; Some wandering ship who hath lost her way, And never, or by night or day. Shall pass these isles again. There, groves that bloom in endless spring Are rustling to the radiant wing Of birds, in various plumage bright, As rainbow hues, or dawning light. Soft falling showers of blossom fair Float ever on the fragrant air. Like showers of vernal snow ; And from the fruit-tree, spreading tall. The richly-ripen'd clusters fall Oft as sea-breezes blow. WILSON— ISLE OF PALMS. 327 OH, FORTVNATOS NIMIVM SVA SI BONA NORINT ! amaena, credo, plurima est sita insula, ignota quae mortalibus cubat beato dormiens silentio, ridentia inter aequora. praetervehetur nocte forsitan ratis, nee navitae in mentem venit spectanda rerum forma, quam tenet mare : cursu vagata devio, non rursus ilia nocte, non die, ratis praetervehetur insulam. florens perenni vere ibi nemus strepit pennis coruscis alitum, quibus renidet pluma tot coloribus, quot arcus aut Eoa lux. molli cadentes imbre floreae comae (sic vere descendunt nives) auris odoris usque candidae natant : late minantis arboris matura poma, flabra cum spirant maris, cadunt racemis aureis. 328 DUBLIN TRANSLATIONS. The sun and clouds alone possess The joy of all that loveliness ; And sweetly to each other smile The live-long day — sun, cloud, and isle. How silent lies each shelter' d bay! No other visitors have they To their shores of silvery sand. Than the waves that, murmuring in their glee. All hurrying in a joyful band, Come dancing from the sea. A WIDOW BIRD. A WIDOW bird sat mourning for her love Upon a wintry bough ; The freezing wind kept on above— The freezing stream below. There was no leaf upon the trees, No flower upon the ground ; And little motion in the air. Save of the mill-wheel's sound. SHELLEY— A WIDOW BIRD. 329 cum sole nubes gaudet una particeps tanta loci dulcedine ; longumque rident dulcia inter se diem nubesque solque et insula, tuto recessu quisque quam sinus silet ! nee ullus intrat advena portus harenis splendidos argenteis, ni cum beato murmure laetoque saltans cum choro consortium festinat unda ex aequore. WALTER RIDDALL. CONTRISTAT AQVARIVS ANNVM. ales hiberno viduata ramo assidens questus iterabat ; aura desuper friget ; subeunt nivali flumina lapsu. nil fuit verni siliiis amictus ; floridi pratis aberant honores ; et molae solus loca muta turbat garrulus axis. HASTINGS CROSSLEY. 330 DUBLIN TRANSLATIONS. HAMLET. Mar. How is 't, my noble lord ? Hor. What news, my lord ? Ham. O wonderful ! Hor. Good, my lord, tell it. Ham. No, you'll reveal it. Hor. Not I, my lord, by heaven. Ham. How say you then ? Would heart of man once think it ? But you'll be secret ? Hor. Aye, by heaven, my lord. Mar. ) Ham. There's ne'er a villain dwelling in all Den- mark But he's an arrant knave. Hor. There needs no ghost, my lord, come from the grave To tell us this. SHAKSPEARE. SHAKSPEARE— HAMLET. 331 nAPA nPOSAOKIAN. Mar. quid agis ? Hor. ecquid nuntias novi ? Ham. o mirificam fabulam ! Hor. facti, amabo, face nos simus iuxta tecum gnarures. Ham. minume. rem palam feretis. Hor. non ego, ita di me adiuvent Ham. quid ergo ? numquid homini in mentem tale venturum fuit ? immemorabiles ambo eritis ? Mar. huius rei superos deos facimus testes. Ham. nemo Athenis vivit scelerosissumus — quin fuat veterator idem merus. Hor. hui ! non usus fuit mortuo qui haec nuntiatum ex Acherunte rebiteret. ROBERT Y. TYRRELL. 332 DUBLIN TRANSLATIONS. THE SPANISH GIPSY. Push off the boat, Quit, quit the shore, The stars will guide us back : — O gathering cloud, O wide, wide sea, O waves that keep no track ! On through the pines ! The pillar' d woods. Where silence breathes sweet breath : — O labyrinth, O sunless gloom, The other side of Death ! GEORGE ELIOT. ELIOT— THE SPANISH GIPSY. 333 AD SOCIOS. nunc est eundum ; nunc, socii, ratem vinclis solutam pellite, pellite ; ni fallor, illuc nos reducent siderei monitos nitores. en ! coUiguntur iam nebulae ; patet pontus ; per aequor nil sibi semitae constabit undosae ; columnis coniferis peragrare nigras silvas oportet, qua bene suavibus quantum est quietis fragrat odoribus : en ! sole sublato tenebrae — ulterior labyrinthus Orci ! SAMUEL ALLEN. 334 DUBLIN TRANSLATIONS. 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. WORDSAVORTH. WORDSWORTH— THE DAISY. 335 AT TENVIS NON GLORIA. tu micas Brumae niveae capillos rara per raros, tenuique nubes dimovet vento tibi ver ut almo sole nitescas. mox et aestivi dominam fatentur te suam campi, recreatque maestum splendor Auctumnum capitis rubentis, roribus udi. urgeant antris violas protervi subter umbrosis Zephyri : superba imbrium gemmis variata frontem se rosa iactet : tu licet longam brevis inchoare spem neges, at non sine laude vivis, iure quam vatum chorus innocentum semper amavit. T. J. B. BRADY. 336 DUBLIN TRANSLATIONS. TATTA KAMOI 2TNA0KEI. Stay now thy hand ! Proclaim not man's dominion Over God's works by strewing rocks and sand With sea-bird's blood-stained plumes and broken pinion. Oh stay thy hand ! Spend not thy days of leisure In scattering death along the peaceful strand For very wantonness, or pride, or pleasure. For birds' sake spare ! Leave it in happy motion. To wheel its easy circles through the air. Or rest and rock upon the shining ocean. For man's sake spare ! Leave him this thing of beauty, To glance and glide before him everywhere, And throw a gleam on after days of duty. IXCER T.—STA Y NOW THY HAND. 337 TIO, TIO, TIO, TIO, TIOTirE. iam siste dextram : iam pudeat viros praestare rerum se dominos, data, per saxa, per litus cruentum, strage avium laceraeque plumae. iam parce : noli conterere otium funesta marmor per placidum struens tropaea ; lascivae sit artis seu specimen studiumve praedae. oro per ipsas te volucres : iter radant recurvum per spatia aeris qua fert libido ; seu nitenti oceano fluitare malint. nee te per ipsos non homines precor : rem tam venustam sensibus intimis, dum splendet et gyros decoros ludit agens, memores reponant. 338 DUBLIN TRANSLATIONS. For God's sake spare ! He notes each sea-bird falling, And in Creation's groans marks its sad share, Its dying cry for retribution calling. Oh stay thy hand ! Cease from this useless slaughter ; For though kind nature from the rocks and sand Washes the stains each day with briny water ; Yet on thy hand, Raised against God's fair creature, Beware lest there be found a crimson brand Indelible by any force of Nature. MORAL IMPROVEMENT. Infinite toil would not enable you to sweep away a mist ; but by ascending a little you may often look over it altogether. So it is with our moral improvement. We wrestle fiercely with a vicious habit, which would have no hold upon us if we ascended into a higher moral atmosphere. MORAL IMPROVEMENT. 339 et per deorum te iubeo fidem, iam parce : caesae vox volucris deos non fallit, ut poenas iniqua sors meritas Furiasque poscat. sit finis : ultro detineas manus vanae ruinae. scilicet in dies, per saxa, per litus, nefandum diluit oceanus cruorem : frustra ; quod istis quas volucri manus intendis, atri criminis insidet tantum quod et Neptunus omni aequore non valeat piare. JOHN F. DAVIES. SVRSVM CORDA. irritus offusas oculis dispergere nubes viribus Herculeis luctaberis : ille tamen te mons procul expediet ; iam contemplator, easdem despicies ; ratione fere hac vitium exuet omne vir bonus et sapiens ; qui detrectabit, ut impar, in campo vitiis obstare ; at templa secutus edita virtutis ridebit fortior hostem. RICHARD W. WEST. 340 DUBLIN TRANSLATIONS. A MEDITATION. Oh, the praties they are small, Over there ! Oh, the praties they are small, Over there ! Oh, the praties they are small. And they digs them at the fall. And they ates them — skins and all- Over there ! Oh, I wish I were a geese. All forlorn ! Oh, I wish I were a geese, All forlorn ! Oh, I wish I were a geese, I would live and die in peace. And accumulate much grease, Eating corn. A MEDITATION. 341 LAVDO DrVERSA SEQVENTES. ista ieiunas populo querent! gleba radices parit ; imminente effodit bruma, tunicasque sorbet (nee pudet) ipsas. si daret fatum, vagus anser essem, fallerem vivus morererque laetus, grana supremos adipis vorando nactus honores. HASTINGS CROSSLEY. 342 DUBLIN TRANSLATIONS. ORINDA. Now all these charms, that beauteous grace, The well-proportion' d shape and beauteous face. Shall never more be seen by mortal eyes ; In earth the much-lamented virgin lies. Nor wit nor piety could Fate prevent, Nor was the cruel Destiny content To finish all the murder at a blow. To sweep at once her life and beauty too, But, like a harden' d felon, took a pride To work more mischievously slow. And plunder' d first and then destroy' d : A double sacrilege on things divine — To rob the relic and deface the shrine ! But thus Orinda died ; Heaven by the same disease did both translate ; As equal were their souls, so equal was their fate. DRYDEN—ORINDA. 343 E2TI AE KAI TI 0ANONTE22I MEP02. iam raptae veneres iam vegetus decor ; fugit forma decens et facies bona conspectus hominum ; terraque virginem ploratam tumulo tegit. nee mens nee pietas fata retorserat : tristis non habuit Parca satis necem maturare semel, non rapuit tibi vitamque et veneres simul. sed patrare nefas, perditus ut latro, cunctanter cupiit ; furtaque post ruit ultro strage nova ; sacraque numinum laesit plus vice simplici, divellens statuam templaque diruens. sic Orinda obiit. sustulit, heu, Deus una peste duos, mens similis neque sors his dissimilis fuit. 344 DUBLIN TRANSLATIONS. Meanwhile her warlike brother on the seas His waving streamers to the winds displays ; And vows for his return with vain devotion pays. Ah, generous youth, that wish forbear ! The winds too soon will waft thee here. Slack all thy sails, and fear to come. Alas, thou knowest not thou art wreck' d at home. A LEARNED WOMAN. In Beauty or Wit No mortal as yet To question your empire has dared ; But men of discerning Have thought that in learning To yield to a woman is hard. Impertinent schools With dull musty rules Have reading to females denied ; So Papists refuse The Bible to use Lest flocks should be wise as their guide. POPE— A LEARNED WOMAN. 345 heros interea frater in aequore iam pandit tremulos in Zephyrum sinus, frustraque in reditus vota suos facit. eheu ! parce nimis pius ! naves aura tuas hue feret ocior. iam iam contrahe vela, et reditu moram imponas timidam ; naufragus es, miser nescis, naufragus, ah, domi ! MAX CULLINAN. ATAN 20*H. forma floscule virginum et lepore, nemo non tibi adhuc puellularum assurgit ; tamen elegantiorum sunt qui in litterulis ferant moleste femellae tibi cedere eruditos. quantum est cunque senum severiorum, aevo scrinia putida adferentes, doctrinam muHercuIis recusant ; sic sunt qui sibi summovent libellos sacros, ne cito, si legant, magistro fiant discipuli eruditiores. ROBERT Y. TYRRELL. 346 DUBLIN TRANSLATIONS. GUINEVERE. Henceforwarb, too, the powers that tend the soul, To keep it from the death that cannot die. And save it even in extremes, began To plague and vex her. Many a time, for hours Beside the placid breathings of the king, In the dead night, grim faces came and went Before her ; or a vague spiritual fear. Like to some doubtful noise of creaking doors Heard by the watcher in a haunted house. That keeps the rust of murder on the walls, Held her awake ; or, if she slept, she dream' d An awful dream ; for then she seem'd to stand On some vast plain, before a setting sun. And from the sun there swiftly made at her A ghastly something, and its shadow flew Before it till it touch' d her, and she turned — When lo ! her own, that broadening from her feet. And blackening, swallow' d all the land, and in it Far cities burnt — and with a cry she woke. TENNYSON. TENNYSON— G UINE VERB. 34 7 NVNC TE FACTA INPIA TANGVNT. continue hinc animas circumvolitantia nostras numina, perpetua morte ereptura cadentes, servatura eadem summo in discrimine lapsas, reginam vexare minis ; quin nocte profunda dum placidus rex dormit et ad latus ipsa recumbit, horribiles voltus ire atque redire per umbras saepe diuque videt ; fugat aut insueta sopores nescio quo vexans formido corda pavore — qualis ubi incertum stridentes cardine valvas nocturnus stupuit custos ubi caede vetusta conspersus paries et inulto sanguine livet, ergo agit excubias ilia, aut si forte sopore lumina declinat, suspensam insomnia terrent : scilicet inmenso visa est consistere campo, subter vergentem solem ; petere unde misellam de iubare ipso exsangue aliquid pernicibus alis devectum, signansque viam praeeuntibus umbris — ad cuius tactum se vertere, et ipsius umbra ante pedis sese nigrans expandere eundo latior, involvens terras caligine dira ; sub qua magna, nefas, volcano maenia late fervere ; dein somnum excussit, voxque excidit ore. W. R. BARRY. 348 DUBLIN TRANSLATIONS. EUPHELIA AND CLOE. The merchant, to secure his treasure, Conveys it in a borrow' d name : Euphelia serves to grace my measure, But Cloe is my real flame. My softest verse, my darling lyre Upon Euphelia' s toilet lay — When Cloe noted her desire That I should sing, that I should play. My lyre I tune, my voice I raise, But with my numbers mix my sighs ; And whilst I sing Euphelia' s praise, I fix my soul on Cloe's eyes. Fair Cloe blush' d : Euphelia frown' d ; I sung and gazed ; I play'd and trembled And Venus to the Loves around Remark' d how ill we all dissembled. PRIOR— EVPHELIA AND CLOE. 349 AEMILIA ET CHLOE. fictis, ut sibi sospitet, cautus vector opes sub titulis tegit ; versus Aemiliam mei laudant, sed penitus depereo Chloen. ornanti Aemiliae comas praesto forte chelys, deliciae meae, et carmen lepidum iacet ; ut iungam fidibus verba rogat Chloe. hanc sumptam modulor, cano, sed suspiria cum carmine misceo ; vox sane Aemiliam sonat, mens defixa Chloen tota inhiat Chloen. ilia avertitur, haec rubet, canto ipse, et modulor, contueor, tremo ; dixit Cypris Amoribus, ' quam non dissimulant quisque suam facem ! ' JOHN K. INGRAM. 350 DUBLIN TRANSLATIONS. APOLOGY FOR PLEASURE, Glaucopis forsakes her own ; The angry gods forget us ; But yet the blue streams along Walk the feet of the silver song ; And the night-bird wakes the moon ; And the bees in the blushing noon Haunt the heart of the old Hymettus ? We are fallen, but not forlorn, If something is left to cherish ; As Love was the earliest born, So Love is the last to perish. Wreathe then the roses, wreathe ! The Beautiful still is ours ; While the stream shall flow, and the sky shall glow, The Beautiful still is ours ! Whatever is fair or soft or bright In the lap of Day or the arms of Night, BULWER LYTTON— APOLOGY FOR PLEASURE. 351 SPIRAT ADHVC AMOR. cedit ab urbe sua — tanta est caelestibus ira — immemor heu ! Pallas cedit ab urbe sua : at, quae caeruleo praeter pede labitur, unda integrat argenteos iam numerosa choros ; iam Lunam Philomela ciet ; iam viscera Hymetti sole rubescentis nota frequentat apes, sternamur licet ; at non spe sternemur adempta, si quid inextinctum quod foveamus erit : non nisi primigenus — sic creditur — est Amor ortus, non nisi supremus — crede — peribit Amor, nectamus roseas, nectat sibi quisque, corollas ; sit mihi de Paphiis nexa corolla rosis. pulcher adhuc nobis nuUus non volvitur amnis ; pulcher adhuc nobis fulget uterque polus : quidquid habet clari, quidquid tenerique bonique, seu Nox sive Dies, hie gremio ilia sinu, 352 DUBLIN TRANSLATIONS. Whispers our soul of Greece — of Greece — And hushes our care with a voice of peace. Wreathe then the roses, wreathe ! They tell me of earlier hours ; And I hear the heart of my country breathe From the lips of the strangers' flowers. BULWER LYTTON. ON A PINE TREE. (Planted ly the Countess of St. Germans in the Phccnix Park, 1855.) Poor tree ! a gentle mistress placed thee here, To be the glory of the glade around ; Thy life has not survived one fleeting year. And she too sleeps beneath another mound. But mark what differing terms your fates allow, Tho' like the period of your swift decay ; Thine are the sapless root and wither' d bough ; Her's the green memory and immortal day. CARLISLE— ON A PINE TREE. 353 Hellade nos celebrat ; pavidos vox Helladis inde nos mulcet placidas vaticinata vices. nectamus roseas, nectat sibi quisque, corollas ; aetatem redolent quae fuit ante rosae : quippe mihi ex istis — audin' tu ? — floribus, hospes, afflatur patriae spiritus ipse meae. SAMUEL ALLEN. NEFASTO TE POSVIT DIE. arbor, te miseram posuit manus alma puellae ut nemoris stares gloria magna tui ; sed tibi vita brevem non suppeditavit in annum, mortua sub tumulo dormit et ilia suo. at brevitate pares quamquam mors abstulit ambas, impare sunt sortes condicione datae ; est marcere tuum ramis arentibus, ilia floret in ore virum, floret in Elysio. T. J. B. BRADY. 354 DUBLIN TRANSLATIONS. TEARS, IDLE TEARS. Tears, idle tears, I know not what they mean ; Tears from the depths of some divine despair Rise in the heart, and gather to the eyes. In looking on the happy Autumn fields, And thinking of the days that are no more. Ah ! sad and strange as in dark summer dawns The earliest pipe of half-awaken' d birds To dying ears, when unto dying eyes The casement slowly grows a glimmering square ; So sad, so strange, the days that are no more. Dear as remember' d kisses after death, And sweet as those by hopeless fancy feign' d On lips that are for others ; deep as love, Deep as first love, and wild with all regret. Oh ! Death in Life, the days that are no more. TENNYSON. TENNYSON— TEARS, IDLE TEARS. 355 QVIS DESIDERIO SIT PVDOR AVT MODVS. cur fonte guttae cordis ab intimo surgunt inanes — crediderim deos sic flere — dum contemplor, anni pomiferi sata laeta lustrans, fulsere soles qui mihi pristini ? quart! mira, tristis quam morientibus extendit angustas trementi luce dies oculis fenestras aestate prima, sol rediens choros cum semisomnos concitat alitum ; tam mira, tarn tristis latescit corde dies reditura nunquam. non tam negatis dulcia quae labris fingunt amantes oscula ; mortuae non ilia quae caro puellae ore suae meminere pressa ! non ipse amator tam penitus nova aetate primis uritur ignibus ! quam vivus elapsos, sepulta spe, crucior meminisse soles ! TOWNSEND MILLS. 356 DUBLIN TRANSLATIONS. A VOTE. This only grant me, that my means may lie Too low for envy, for contempt too high ; Some honour would I have, Not from great deeds, but good alone : Th' unknown are better than th' illknown ; 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 undisturb'd as death, my night. My house a cottage more Than palace, and should fitting be For all my use, no luxury : My gardens painted o'er With Nature's hand, not Art's, should pleasure yield Horace might envy in his Sabine field. COWLEY— J VOTE. 357 HOC ERAT IN VOTIS. detur minor res invidia, neque fastidienti tenuia sordeat ; sed fama ne desit precanti, fama bonis bene parta factis ; nam nomen amplum deprecor incliti, mallem latenter vivere quam male audire ; rumori sepulcri porta patet stygiaeque fauces ! turbam salutantum atria ne vomant, commendet at mi quemque fides sua ; nee luce me rixae forenses soUicitent mediusque lanus libris vacantem ; grata quies mihi sit nocte, leto sit similis sopor ; et munda contingant, nocentes nescia suppeditare luxus, tecta apta parco, non laris aemula lauti potentum ; nee sciat addere ars uUa quaesitos honores sponte sua nitidis agellis 358 DUBLIN TRANSLATIONS. Thus would I double my life's fading space; For he who 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-morrow let my sun his beams display, Or in clouds hide them ; I have lived to-day.' TO A LADY SLEEPING. Thou sleep' st, soft silken flower! would I were Sleep, For ever on those lids my watch to keep ! So should I have thee all my own, nor he Who seals Jove's wakeful eyes my rival be. C. MERIVALE. MBRIVALE—TO A LADY SLEEPING. 359 Flacco invidendis. sic geminas datur duxisse vitas ; nam spatium ampliat aetatis hie, vitae diurnum qui bene vir stadium cucurrit. ah ! tanta nullo si maneat quies venalis auro ! nee mihi deprecer eultrum verendarum sororum, nee nimium querar esse filum, sed sorte degam laetus, et in dies dixisse fas sit, ' viximus, optimus vel sole eras puro, vel atra nube polum pater oeeupato.' ROBERT Y. TYRRELL, HENDECASYXLABICS. dermis, o roseum aemulata florem ! vellem somnifer ipse divus essem, ut supereilii tui sub umbra eustos non abiturus exeubarem ! sie in nos amor iste totus iret, nee qui lumina elaudit arte Patri eertamen malus invidum moveret. HASTINGS CROSSLEY. 360 DUBLIN TRANSLATIONS. BREAK, BREAK, BREAK. Break, break, break, On thy cold gray stones, O sea ! And I would that my tongue could utter The thoughts that arise in me. O well for the fisherman's boy That he shouts with his sister at play ! And well for the sailor lad That he sings in his boat on the bay ! And the stately ships go on To their haven under the hill ; But oh for the touch of a vanish' d hand, And the sound of a voice that is still ! Break, break, break. At the foot of thy crags, O sea ! But the tender grace of a day that is dead Will never come back to me. TENNYSON. TENNYSON— BREAK, BREAK, BREAK. 361 WELTSCHMERZ. dum glaucas gelidis cautes mare verberat undis, cur quae mens agitet lingua referre negat ? felix heu ! nimium parvus piscator harena quocum ludit ovans consociata soror : tuque, puer, felix nimium, cui litora cantus curva sinus reddunt, dum vada lintre secas ! non humilem cessat portum ratis alta subire : cessat nota manus, vox et amata silet. frangantur scopulis undae : non temporis acti bis tenerum florem carpere fata sinunt. TOWNSEND MILLS. 362 DUBLIN TRANSLATIONS. THE EPICURE. Methinks I am batten' d well of late, grown lusty, Fat, high, and kicking — thanks to the bounteous Rugio ; And now, methinks, I scorn these poor repasts, Cheese-parings and the stinking tongues of pilchers : But why should I remember these ? they are odious, They are odious in my eyes : the full fat dish now, The bearing dish is that I reverence. The dish an able serving man sweats under. And bends i' th' hams, as if the house hung on him ; The state of a fat turkey, the decorum He marches in with, all the train and circum- stance — 'Tis such a matter, such a glorious matter! And then his sauce with oranges and onions. And he displayed in all parts ! for such a dish now, And at my need I would betray my father, And for a roasted conger all my country. FLETCHER. FLETCHER— WOMAN PLEASED. 363 EPICVRI DE GREGE PORCVS. iamdudum mihi curato bene pinguis, opinor, crescit aqualiculus, crescunt fastidia, naso omnia suspendo ; tanti est tua gratia nobis, Virro, lautorum lautissime : nunc ego certe vilia contemno convivia pauperiorum, et lardi fragmenta et mucida frusta siluri ; quid tamen haec meminisse iuvat ? surgit mihi bilis atra recordanti : raensas nunc inter onustas mazonomum veneror quo non spatiosior alter ; scilicet hunc portans contento poplite sudat, sustineat veluti tota atria, magnus agaso. quinetiam magni nasum (mihi crede) supinor altilis introitu ; quanto molimine, quanta luxuria ingreditur, magna comitante caterva ! quali iure natat malis et caepe superba ! quam iacet et toto spectacula corpore praebet ! quam mihi si obtuleris pretium, et latraverit alvus, proditor exstarem cari genitoris, et idem, si modo contigerint assi mihi praemia congri, laxarem Romae metuendis claustra Britannis ! T. J. B. BRADY. 364 DUBLIN TRANSLATIONS. ON THE FOREGOING DIVINE POEMS. When we for age could neither read, nor write, The subject made us able to indite : The soul, with nobler resolutions deckt. The body stooping-, does herself erect : No mortal parts are requisite to raise Her, who unbody'd, can her Maker praise. The seas are quiet, when the winds give o'er: So, calm are we, when passions are no more ! For then we know how vain it was to boast Of fleeting things, so certain to be lost. Clouds of affection from our younger eyes Conceal that emptiness which age descries. The soul's dark cottage, batter' d and decay' d, Lets in new light through chinks that time has made. Stronger by weakness, wiser men become, As they draw near to their eternal home. Leaving the old, both worlds at once they view. That stand upon the threshold of the new. EDMUND WALLER. EDMUND WALLER— DIVINE POEMS. 365 AVREA DICTA. cum nec prae senio legere aut plus scribere possim, ut dictate queam studium et res praestitit ipsa. corpore curvato, turn demum accincta animae vis consilium ad melius, sursum sese ardua toUit ; nec corpus mortale opus est quo se levet, expers corporis ipsa potens laudes celebrare Parentis. aequor uti placidum vento cessante quiescit, sic nobis quoque mens, animi cum concidit aestus ; rescit enim rebus quam prave gaudeat illis quae fluitant, quas sors non evitabilis aufert : id iuvenem fallit quod nube cupidinis acta cernit iam senior, quantum insit rebus inane. ut tenebrosa domus quassata aevoque vieta per rimas lumen iam plenius accipit intro, sic macie validus, macie sapientior idem fit vir quo propius sub finem venerit aevi ; resque deumque hominumque simul, tellure relicta, conspicit ingrediens insuetum limen Olympi. JOHN F. DAVIKS. 366 DUBLIN TRANSLATIONS. TO A PENSIVE FRIEND. Why, why repine, my pensive friend. At pleasures slipt away ? Some the stern Fates will never lend, And all refuse to stay. I see the rainbow in the sky. The dew upon the grass ; I see them, and I ask not why They glimmer or they pass. With folded arms I linger not To call them back ; 'twere vain : In this or in some other spot, I know, they'll shine again. W. S. LANDOR. LANDOR—TO A PENSIVE FRIEND. 367 AD POSTVMVM. quid, quid querella, Postume, flebili dilapsa luges gaudia ? sunt enim - donare quae tristis recuset Parca, neque ulla diu manebunt. est ut nitescat nimbus in aethere ; est ut nitescat ros quoque gramine ; specto ; neque, ut specto, rogare cur nitidi fugiant laboro. per me recedant : nil moror ; irrita incuriosus non revoco prece : ni fallor, hue ipsi fugaces aut alio referent nitores. SAMUEL ALLEN. DUBLIN TRANSLATIONS. -QSWALD. The mountain-ash Deck'd with autumnal berries, that outshine Spring's richest blossoms, yields a splendid show Amid the leafy woods : and ye have seen By a brook-side or solitary tarn How she her station doth adorn ; the pool Glows at her feet, and all the gloomy rocks Are brighten' d round her. In his native vale Such and so glorious did this youth appear ; A sight that kindled pleasure in all hearts By his ingenuous beauty, by the gleam Of his fair eyes, by his capacious brow. By all the graces with which Nature's hand Had plenteously array' d him. As old bards Tell in their idle song of wandering gods. Pan or Apollo, veil'd in- human form, Yet, like the sweet-breath' d violet of the vale, WORDSWORTH—OSWALD. 369 ARISTAEVS. frotidosis caput attoUens in saltibus ornus fert, decus autumni, bacas quae veris honores divitis evincunt. viden, ut statione relucet pulcra sua, ad ripas sive ad deserta paludum ; infra lucescuntque lacus et tristia circum undique saxa nitent. talem talique videbat egregium forma iuvenem convallis avita ; pectora conspectum rapuit dulcedine mira ■cuncta sine arte decus, flagret quo purus ocellus ardors, et latae quae surgat gloria frontis, et si quas alias dextra natura benigna addiderat veneres, vates antiqua crepantes non secus errantes fingebant carmine divos, cum seu Pan hominem indueret seu Phoebus Apollo, frustra ; namque velut violarum proditor imis 370 DUBLIN TRANSLATIONS. Discover' d in their own despite to sense: So through a simple rustic garb's disguise In him reveal' d a scholar's genius shone, And so not wholly hidden from men's sight In him the spirit of a hero walk'd Our unpretending valley. WORDSWORTH. SONG. When Zephyr waves his balmy wings, To kiss the sweets of May : When the soft melodies of spring Resound from every spray ; With thee, sweet maid, I'll rove along. And tread the morning dews, To hear the wood-lark's early song, Or court the laughing Muse. F. HEMANS. HEMANS—SONG. 371 e latebris odor est suavis, sic sensibus olim humanis numen praesens (nee sponte) patebat : sic non fallere mens potuit divinior olli ruricolae quamvis simplex velabat amictus, non itaque ignotus plane vestigia vallis per fines humiles, spirans heroa, ferebat. MAX CULLINAN. ' O QVI ME.' myrrheos sistens Zephyrus volatus spiritum et Florae rosea ora libet ; personet frondes ubicunque lenis naenia veris, Phylli, cum mecum mea visis herbas mane gemmantes, vigilisque alaudae carmen audire est, fruimurque Musa dulce iocanti. JOHN F. DA VIES. 372 DUBLIN TRANSLATIONS. AUBURN. Sweet smiling village, loveliest of the lawn, Thy sports are fled, and all thy charms withdrawn Amidst thy bowers the tyrant's hand is seen, And desolation saddens all thy green : One only master grasps the whole domain. And half a tillage scants thy smiling plain : No more thy glassy brook reflects the day But choked with sedges works its weedy way : Along thy glades, a solitary guest. The hollow-sounding bittern guards its nest : Amidst thy desert walks the lapwing flies. And tires their echoes with unvarying cries : Sunk are thy bowers in shapeless ruin all, And the long grass o'ertops the mouldering wall ; And, trembling, shrinking from the spoiler's hand, Far, far away thy children leave the land. Ill fares the land to threatening ills a prey. Whose wealth accumulates, and men decay ; Princes and lords may flourish or may fade, A breath can make them, as a breath has made ; But a bold peasantry, their country's pride, When once destroyed can never be supplied. GOLDSMITH. GOLDSMITH— THE DESERTED VILLAGE. 373 SQVALENT ABDVCTIS ARVA COLONIS. page placens, quo non ridebat amaenior alter, et ludi et veneres praeteriere tuae ; per nemora et saltus domini violentia saevit, et lugnbre viret depopulatus ager. possidet omne solum pulsis cultoribus unus, arvaque defraudat dimidiata seges. iam vitreus soles iterat non amplius amnis, obsitus ille ulvis ire laborat iter, ardea rauca canens circumvolat hospita saltus unica, dum nidos protegit ipse suos ; non nisi triste sonat defessi montis imago avia dum resonas voce, vanelle, tua. strata iacent miseris umbracula la'eta ruinis ; herba putri muro luxuriosa viget ; et tua raptorem fugiens tremebunda propago exilio mutant arva aliena suis. heu ! terra infelix ! properis, heu ! debita fatis, cui cumulantur opes degenerantque viri ! vel stent vel pereant reges regumque ministri ; (aura illos potuit gignere, et aura potest) sed genus acre virum, patriae sed gloria pubes rustica, si pereat non revocanda perit. T. J. B. BRADV. 374 DUBLIN TRANSLATIONS. THE BRAES OF YARROW. Thy braes were bonny, Yarrow stream, When first on them I met my lover ; Thy braes, how dreary. Yarrow stream, When now thy waves his body cover ! For ever now, O Yarrow stream. Thou art to me a stream of sorrow ; For never on thy banks shall I Behold my love, the pride of Yarrow. He promised me a milk-white steed To bear me to his father's bowers; He promised me a little page To squire me to his father's towers ; He promised me a wedding ring. The wedding day was fixed to-morrow ; Now he is wedded to his grave, Alas ! his watery grave in Yarrow. LOGAN— THE BRAES OF YARROW. 375 ECLOGA HODIERNA. praedulces inter ripas tunc, Hebre, fluebas, cum iuveni comitem me novus egit amor ; sed nimium squalet mihi nunc tua ripa, venustum post tua quam iuvenem condidit unda meum. usque mihi reliquos tu triste meabis in annos, Hebre, nee infaustum deseret omen aquas ; nam neque in adspectum ripis venit amplius istis, nee veniet, patriae flos tener ille tuae. ' munus,' ait, ' mittam niveo candore caballum ; sic vectam soceri limen adire decet ; vernulaque accedet cultu et spectabilis aevo, deducetque mei patris adusque fores, tortile erit pignus certi tibi foederis aurum ; iuraque coniugii eras dabit orta dies.' dixit : at exceptum subito sibi nympha maritum vindicat, et liquido nunc tenet, Hebre, toro. 376 DUBLIN TRANSLATIONS: Sweet were his words when last we met ; My passion I as freely told him ; Clasp' d in his arms I little thought That I should never more behold him. Scarce was he gone, I saw his ghost ; It vanish' d with a shriek of sorrow; Thrice did the water-wraith ascend, And gave a doleful groan through Yarrow. His mother from the window looked With all the longing of a mother ; His little sister weeping walked The greenwood path to meet her brother. They sought him east, they sought him west, They sought him all the forest thorough ; They only saw the cloud of night. They only heard the roar of Yarrow. No longer from thy window look, Thou hast no son, thou tender mother ; No longer walk, thou lovely maid, Alas ! thou hast no more a brother ; No longer seek him east or west. And search no more the forest thorough, For, wandering in the night so dark. He fell a lifeless corpse in Yarrow. LOGAN— THE BRAES OF YARROW. 377 summum illud, memini, convenimus : acrius arsit ; urere me flammam sum quoque fassa parem ; nee minimum, lends teneor dum laeta lacertis, mens verita est posthac ut foret ille redux. vix abiit : solique apparet amantis imago, continuoque ululans flebilis umbra fugit ; deinde instar nebulae fluvii deus ipse resurgens ter maesto per aquas ingemis, Hebre, sono. sollicita e patulis spectat matercula clathris, utque solent matrum corda timere timet : parva nemus, flenti propior, germana petebat, obvius in viridi si foret ille via. turn vero occasum versus, turn solis ad ortum lustrantes saltus avia quaeque petunt ; sola tamen visa est caligo noctis, ad aures sola venit fera vox quam, pater Hebre, dabas. non opus est patulis te prospectare fenestris, iam neque enim natum tu, pia mater, habes : neve petas nemoris, virgo formosa, recessus, non etenim posthac frater ut ante redit. iam neque in occasum nee quaerite solis in ortum lustrando saltus avia quaeque, viri ; nempe sub incerta dum nocte errabat, in undis decidit, atque animam reddidit, Hebre, tibi. 378 DUBLIN TRANSLATIONS. The tear shall never leave my cheek, No other youth shall be my marrow ; I'll seek thy body in the stream, And then with thee I'll sleep in Yarrow ! The tear did never leave her cheek : No other youth became her marrow ; She found his body in the stream, And now with him she sleeps in Yarrow. EPITAPH ON KING CHARLES II. Here lies our mutton-eating king, Whose word no man relies on ; Who never said a foolish thing. And never did a wise one. ROCHESTER. ROCHESTER— AN EPITAPH. 379 anne per assiduum fletum mihi vita trahenda est ? ut, puto, pars animae sit quis, ut ille, meae ! immo in aquis ilium quaeram, sociumque soporem tu sponsis socii da, pater Hebre, tori, dixit : et assidue flevit dum vita manebat ; illi pars animae non fuit alter amans ; sed sponso iuveni iuncta est sub flumine, et Hebrus sic bene composites tempus in omne premit. JOHN F. DA VIES. MONVMENTVM AERE PERENNIVS. carnis rex iacet hie vorax ovinae : non fides fuit asse pluris uno : nil unquam ille locutus inficetum, semper omnia fecit inficete. ROBERT Y. TYRRELL. 380 DUBLIN TRANSLATIONS. THE BIRD'S RELEASE. Go forth, for she is gone ! With the golden light of her wavy hair, She is gone to the fields of the viewless air : She hath left her dwelling lone ! Go forth, and like her be free ! With thy radiant wing and thy glancing eye. Thou hast all the range of the sunny sky : And what is our grief to thee ? Is it aught even to her we mourn ? Doth she look on the tears by her kindred shed ? Doth she rest with the flowers o'er her gentle head. Or float on the light wind borne ? We know not — but she is gone ! Her step from the dance, her voice from the song. And the smile of her eye from the festal throng- She hath left her dwelling lone ! r. HEMANS. HEMANS—THE BIRD'S RELEASE. 381 OIXETAI, OIXETAI. exi, fugit enim quae prius aureas ibat fusa comas, vanuit et leves eheu ! rapta sub auras solam deseruit domum ! i, sis cum domina tu quoque libera, scintillant oculi, pluma nitet tibi, apricus patet aether, non te noster adit dolor. illam nostra valet tangere naenia ? fletus anne videt ? floribus an caput tectum moUe quiescit ? auris anne volantibus fertur ? scire nefas. fugit et heu ! levis nee pes ille iterum voxve inerit choris, risu festa carebunt, desertique gement lares. RICHARD H. COLLINS. 382 DUBLIN TRANSLATIONS. MAY. Led by the jocund train of vernal hours, And vernal air, uprose the gentle May : Blushing she rose ; and blushing rose the flowers That sprang spontaneous in her genial ray. Her locks with heaven's ambrosial dews were bright. And amorous Zephyrs flutter' d on her breast ; With every shifting gleam of morning light The colours shifted of her rainbow vest. Imperial ensigns graced her smiling form : A golden key, and golden wand she bore : This charms to peace each sullen eastern storm. And that unlocks the summer's copious store. Onward in conscious majesty she came, The grateful honours of mankind to taste ; To gather fairest wreaths of future fame. And blend fresh triumphs with her glories past. LOVIBOND LOVIBOND-MAY. ~ 383 FLORA. mitis Flora venit, vernis cum flatibus horae antevolant vernae, laeta caterva, deam ; surgenti subit ora rubor, surgentibus idem floribus, iniussos luce quot alma ciet, ambrosio crines respersi rore micabant, alludit teneros aura proterva sinus ; quotque vices mutant orientis lumina solis, iride lucidior tot tunica ilia refert. regia ridentem decorabant signa figuram, aurea clavis inest, aurea virga, manu ; hac pacare ferus si quando saeviat Eurus, ilia aestatis opes mox reserare parat ; incedit memores hominum ut delibet honores, scilicet imperii conscia diva sibi ; carpat uti famae pulcherrima serta futurae, utque novus veteri consocietur honor. JOHN F. KEATING. 384 , DUBLIN TRANSLATIONS. NE SVTOR SVPRA CREPIDAM. When some brisk youth, the tenant of a stall, Employs a pen less pointed than his awl, Leaves his snug shop, forsakes his store of shoes, St. Crispin quits, and cobbles for the muse. Heavens ! how the vulgar stare ! how crowds applaud ! How ladies read, and literati laud ! If chance some wicked wag should pass his jest, 'Tis sheer ill-nature — don't the world know best ? Genius must guide when wits admire the rhyme, And Capel Lofift declares 'tis quite sublime. Hear, then, ye happy sons of needless trade ! Swains, quit the plough, resign the useless spade ; Lo, Burns and Bloomfield, nay, a greater far, Gifford was born beneath an adverse star, Forsook the labours of a servile state, Stemm'd the rude storm, and triumph' d over fate. BYRON^ENGLISH BARDS, ETC. 386 EPAOI TI2 HN EKA2T02 EIAEIH TEXNHN. impiger en ! iuvenis, cerdo prius, exsilit omni abiecto instrumento artis clausaque taberna ; et genium spernens infabre facta Camaenis munera fert, acie ut calamum cui subula praestet — constupet extemplo vnlgus, plauditque beato, scripta legunt matronae, extoUunt laude periti ; et si forte iocum tentaverit improbus olim, ' aerugo mera,' vulgns ait, ' me iudice vincit, quid quaeris ? ' nempe, urbanis mirantibus, ipsam Pallada crediderim stulto aspirasse poetae, poUice quem Bavius recitantem laudet utroque. quare agite, artifices, vana vos arte relicta, et vos, agricolae, spreta cum vomere marra, scribite! quid? raucus Codrus, Lucilius, ipso ,,^, cum Flacco, Dis iratis duroque sub astro, , •■- nati, serviles non destituere labores, fatis restantes tempestatique malorum ? 386 DUBLIN TRANSLATIONS. Then why no more ? if Phoebus smiled on you, Bloomfield, why not on brother Nathan too ? Him too the mania, not the muse, has seized ; Not inspiration, but a mind diseased : And now no boor can seek his last abode, No common be enclosed, without an ode. SONG. The rose, that in the springtide ventures forth To woo the Zephyr with her crimson smiles And odorous wiles, Too often chances on the cruel North : For every kiss of his cold lips With poisonous blight her beauty nips, Till one by one, with downcast head, She weeps away her petals red. And with the last bereft of life and light Sighs forth her passionate soul on the dark lap of night. ALFRED P. GRAVES. GRA VES—SONG. 387 et quidni plures ? siquidem largitur Apollo ingenium Codro, cur non ludaeus haberet, quern stimulat cacoethes, amor sive iste vocandus scribendi, malisanaque mens sine divite vena ? quid ? non nunc fiunt privati publica iuris iugera, nuUus obit sacro sine vate bubulcus ! WILLIAM G. TYRRELL. 'I FIORETTI DAL NOTTVRNO GELO CHINATI E CHIVSI.' quae rosa iam tepente emicans anno Zephyrum sollicitat, rubores explicitura vernos, blanda odoratis opibus fallere, blanda risu, saepe nivalis aurae tacta languescit moriens asperiore labro. haud secus ac veneno tincta mordaci calyces forma reliquit aegros ; ipsaque dum supina plorat effusi decoris primitias rubentes, cum gemitu supremo floreae accessura pyrae vita fugit sub umbras. HASTINGS CROSSLEY. DUBLIN TRANSLATIONS. CORONACH. He is gone on the mountain, He is lost to the forest, Like a summer-dried fountain, When our need was the sorest. The font re-appearing From the rain-drops shall borrow, But to us comes no cheering, To Duncan no morrow ! The hand of the reaper Takes the ears that are hoary. But the voice of the weeper Wails manhood in glory. The autumn winds, rushing, Waft the leaves that are searest. But our flower was in flushing When blighting was nearest ! Fleet foot on the correi, Sage counsel in cumber, Red hand in the foray. How sound is thy slumber ! Like the dew on the mountain. Like the foam on the river, Like the bubble on the fountain. Thou art gone, and for ever ! SCOTT— CORONACH. 389 VLVLATVS. Aulus abest silvis, procul est a montibus Aulus ; fons velut aestivis siccus egemus aquis. eras fons auctus erit pluviis ; sed gaudia nostra, te referet nuUus crastinus, Aule, dies ! non nisi maturas messor succidit aristas ; deflemus raptum nos iuvenile decus. non nisi marcentes Auctumnus turbine frondes decutit ; est nobis laesus Aprilis honor, per iuga qui velox, inter discrimina cautus, acer erat bello, quam sopor altus habet ! ceu fontis scatebrae, clivi ros, spuma fluenti, Aulus in aeternum vanuit, Aulus abest. SAMUEL ALLEN. 390 DUBLIN TRANSLATIONS. THE ANCIENT MARINER. The fair breeze blew, the white foam flew, The furrow follow' d free, We were the first that" ever burst Into that silent sea. Down dropt the breeze, the sails dropt down, 'Twas sad as sad could be; And we did speak only to break The silence of the sea. All in a hot and copper sky The bloody sun at noon Right up above the mast did stand, No bigger than the moon. Day after day, day after day. We stuck, nor breath nor motion. As idle as a painted ship Upon a painted ocean. COLERIDGE— THE ANCIENT MARINER. 391 HORRESCO REFERENS. crebrescunt venti : canens respergitur unda, insequitur limes latus sulcante carina, audaces taciturn primi violavimus aequor. en ventus cecidit, ceciderunt vela soluta, ne tu quaere metus — verbis quis vincere possit ? tantum ne regerent tarn vasta silentia pontum fugit ab ore sonus ; rutila ferrugine caelum fervet ; sol medio malum supereminet aestu ipse maligna rubens nee maior imagine lunae. tarda dies, et quaeque dies haerentibus ibat tardior, baud uUo vento fluctuve movente, picta ratis veluti si pictis pendeat undis. 392 DUBLIN TRANSLATIONS. Water, water, everywhere, And all the boards did shrink ; Water, water, everywhere. Nor any drop to drink. The very deep did rot : O Christ, That ever this should be.! Yea, slimy things with legs did crawl Upon the slimy sea. About, about, in reel and rout. The death-fires danced at night ; The water, like a witch's oils. Burnt green, and blue, and white. COLERIDGE. 'I NVNC, EDERE ME IVBE LIBELLOS." A LITERARY lady once asked Dr. Johnson for his candid opinion on a recent work of hers, adding that, if it did not meet his approbation, she had other irons in the fire; whereon the great critic, with grim humour, advised her to put the book where her other irons were. A RETORT. 393 undique fluctus erat, tabulas squalere videres, undique fluctus erat, fauces sitis arida torret. di nobis meliora ! putrescit pontus ab imis sedibus ipse, at foeda modis animalia miris lenta trahunt lentum tabentia crura per aequor. nunc hinc nunc illinc noctu circumsilit ignis intentatque necem ; fluctus variante colore aestuat, ut quondam, saga miscente, venena. T. MAGUIRE. 20*HN AE MISn. ' legisti modo quern misi tibi, Tarpa, libellum ? non nuUas veneres hie, nisi fallor, habet' cui salsum ridens, ' Veneris tu, docta, marito has veneres Tarpa iudice iure dabis. ' ROBERT y. TYRRELL. 394 DUBLIN TRANSLATIONS. AMONG THE FLOWERS. She took my flowers with simple grace, And then I breath' d the truth she knew; No flush, the while, was on her face ; I ceased, and she was silent, too. At length she speaks, with heaving breast, Of duty owed to adverse powers ; She hints at feelings long suppress' d, And hides her face among the flowers. Blest garland ! fleeting years have sped ; Your bliss is past ; your bloom is o'er ; Fades, too, this cheek, this bosom dead, These lips that sue and sigh no more ; Lives, lives relentless Fate alone ; Still Hope is born in leafy bowers, But when the blushing buds have blown. Still finds her grave among the flowers. JOHN HARTLEY. MARTLEY— AMONG THE FLOWERS. 395 LATET ANGVIS IN HERBIS. non inopinatas molli bibit aure loquellas, nativa ut cepit simplicitate rosas ; virginis interea solitus color occupat ora ; mox taceo ; et nuUos lingua dat ilia sonos. denique pauca refert tremefacti conscia cordis, ' vota parum facili debita nostra deo,' et vix fassa premi veteres sub pectore curas, contegit obductis ora puella rosis. o nimium laeti quibus irrevocabile flores tempus laetitiam corripuitque decus ! hae quoque nempe genae pallent, haec corda quiescunt, et mihi languenti iam prece labra vacant ; haec pereunt; vos, vos tamen improba Fatavigetis; spem loca nascentem semper amaena fovent ; sed non ante rubet flos primo indutus honore, spes nova quam nato flore sepulta iacet. JOHN MAllTLEY. 396 DUBLIN TRANSLATIONS. VANITY OF VANITIES, SAITH THE PREACHER. Fame, wisdom, love, and power were mine. And health and youth possess' d me ; My goblets blush' d from every vine, And lovely forms caress' d me ; I sunn'd my heart in beauty's eyes. And felt my soul grow tender ; All earth can give or mortal prize, Was mine of regal splendour. I strive to number o'er what days Remembrance can discover. Which all that life or earth displays Would lure me to live over. There rose no day, there roll'd no hour Of pleasure unembitter'd ; And not a trapping deck'd my power ! That gall'd not while it glitter' d. BYRON— VANITY OF VANITIES. 397 MATAI0TH2 MATAIOTHTflN. doctrinae famaeque expertus praemia quondam rex ego et incolumi robore amator eram. cuncta rubescebat pateris vindemia nostris, inque manus moUes membra fovenda dabam. saepe mihi intuitu, medio ceu sole, puellae leniter incaluit pectus, abitque rigor ; quicquid terra tulit, quot honorem regibus augent, quicquid avent homines, cuncta fuere mea ! saepe dies actos memori de corde revolvo, si quos e multis laetius isse dies inveniam, quales, quavis mercede repensos, vincar ut anteactos nunc iterare velira. sed frustra ; quoniam sensi miser omnibus horis semper amari aliquid demere laetitiam, urebant torques, magni gestamina regis, ceu diro amplexae colla nitore faces. 398 DUBLIN TRANSLATIONS. The serpent of the field, by art And spells, is won from harming ; But that which coils around the heart. Oh ! who hath power of charming ? It will not list to wisdom's lore. Nor music's voice can lure it ; But there it stings for evermore The soul that must endure it, AN EPITAPH. Here she lies, a pretty bud. Lately made of flesh and blood ; Who as soone fell fast asleep. As her little eyes did peep. Give her strewings, but not stir The earth that lightly covers her. HERRICK. HERRICK—AN EPITAPH. 399 letifera in silvis quae tecta fefellerat anguis, sunt quibus est nuUi docta nocere modis ; sed qui se sinuat circum praecordia, verbis queis fiet, quali mitior arte dolor ? non hie attentas praeceptis praebuit aures ; attonitus nuUis vocibus obstupuit! haeret in aeternum, stimulisque infixus adurget corda, quibus tutae stat via nulla fugae. RICHARD W. WEST. MINOR IGNE ROGVS. hoc infans rosa dormit in recessu, suci quae modo sanguinisque plena quos iam vix reseraverat tenellos somno clausit in altiore ocellos. spargas lilia, sed levem sepultae pulverem moveas cave, viator. T. J. B. BRADY. 400 DUBLIN TRANSLATIONS. POPE'S FIRST PASTORA.L. STRKPHON. Me gentle Delia beckons from the plain, Then, hid in shades, eludes her eager swain ; But feigns a laugh, to see me search around, And by that laugh the willing fair is found. The sprightly Sylvia trips along the green ; She runs, but hopes she does not run unseen ; While a kind glance at her pursuer flies. How much at variance are her feet and eyes ! STREPHON. O'er golden sands let rich Pactolus flow, And trees wdep amber on the banks of Po ; Blest Thames' s shores the brightest beauties yield. Feed here, my lambs, I'll seek no distant field. POPE'S FIRST PASTORAL. 401 A TEN S ON. STREPHON. Delia me nutu medio stans provocat horto, abdita mox tenebris avidum deludit amantem ; sed risum simulat cum me videt undique frustra quaerere, et est proprio male tristis prodita risu. et levis exsultim per gramina Silvia ludit : me fugit, at fugiens sese cupit ante videri : iam vultu molli respectat pone sequentem : quantum oculos interque pedes disconvenit illos ! STREPHON. auratas dives Pactolus lambat harenas, succinaque Eridani ripis fleat Helias arbor : his Tamesis ripae nimium dulcedine praestant. hie mihi pascite, oves, nam sordent cetera rura. 402 DUBLIN TRANSLATIONS. DAPHNIS. Celestial Venus haunts Idalia's groves : Diana Cynthus, Ceres Hybla loves : If Windsor shades delight the matchless maid, Cynthus and Hybla yield to Windsor shade. STREPHON. All nature mourns, the skies relent in showers, Hush'd are the birds, and closed the drooping flowers; If Delia smile, the flowers begin to spring, The skies to brighten, and the birds to sing. DAPHNIS. All nature laughs, the groves are fresh and fair, The sun's mild lustre warms the vital air; If Sylvia smile, new glories gild the shore, And vanquish' d nature seems to charm no more. STREPHON. In spring the fields, in autumn hills I love, At morn the plains, at noon the shady grove ; But Delia always ; absent from her sight, Nor plains at morn, nor groves at noon delight. DAPHNIS. Sylvia 's like autumn ripe, yet mild as May, More bright than noon, yet fresh as early day: E'en spring displeases, when she shines not here, But, bless' d with her, 'tis spring throughout the year. POPE'S FIRST PASTORAL. 403 Idaliae lucos proles colit alma Diones, flava Ceres Hyblam, Cynthum Latonia virgo ; haec nostrae placeant formosae prata puellae, his pratis Cedent Cynthi iuga, cedet et Hybla. STREPHON. omnia iam lugent ; iam fletu solvitur aer ; conticuere et aves ; cessant se pandere Acres : Delia si ridet, cito se flos explicat, aer incipit effulgere, et aves renovare canorem. DAPHNIS. omnia iam rident ; lucus viret et nitet herba ; vitales auras modico Sol temperat aestu : Silvia si ridet, decorat venus altera campos ; victa iacet, nee iam natura habet ipsa, lepores. STREPHON. Vere ager, Auctumno ventosa cacumina montis, mane placent campi, mediisque ardoribus antrum : Delia grata aderit semper ; sin absit, acerbus et campus mane est, mediisque ardoribus antrum. DAPHNIS. Maius habet flores, Auctumnus poma, calores Sol medius, roremque recens lux orta tenellum : Silvia habet pulchri quodcunque est ; displicet ipsum Ver si quando abeat ; redeat, redit assiduum Ver. 404 Z> UBLIN TRANSLA TIONS. SXREPHON. Say, Daphnis, say, in what glad soil appears A wondrous tree that sacred monarchs bears : Tell me but this, and I'll disclaim the prize, And give the conquest to thy Sylvia's eyes. DAPHNIS. Nay, tell me first, in what more happy fields The thistle springs, to which the lily yields : And then a nobler prize I will resign, For Sylvia, charming Sylvia, shall be thine. GOOD RESOLUTIONS. When the Devil was sick in bed The Devil a monk would be ; But when the Devil was well again The devil a monk was he. GOOD RESOLUTIONS. 405 STREPHON. die quae sit tellus tarn laeta ut, Daphni, timendos mira ferat reges ramis felicibus arbor ; hoc modo si doceas agnum tibi cedimus ultro, eximiaeque feret primas tua Silvia formae. DAPHNIS. immo age die ubi sit tanto felieius arvum ut tribulos pariat quales non lilia vincant : die, tibi enim longe pulcherrima praemia eedam : virgineumque decus te Silvia nostra sequetur. JOHN F. DAVIES. AEGROTI SOMNIA. ' me mala crux agitet,' clamabat Vappa, ' Catonem ni salvus referara,' febre tenente latus. audiit aegrotum facili deus aure. quid ille ? me mala crux agitet si Cato Vappa fuit ! ROBERT Y. TYRRELL. 406 DUBLIN TRANSLATIONS. THE SAILOR BOY. He rose at dawn, and, fired with hope. Shot o'er the seething harbour bar, And reach' d the ship and caught the rope, And whistled to the morning star. And, while he whistled long and loud. He heard a fierce mermaiden cry, ' O boy, tho' thou art young and proud, I see the place where thou wilt lie. The sands and yeasty surges mix In caves about the dreary bay. And on thy ribs the limpet sticks, And in thy heart the scrawl shall play.' Fool,' he answer' d, ' death is sure To those that stay and those that roam ; But I will never more endure To sit with empty hands at home. TENNYSON— THE SAILOR BOY. 407 MANET OCEANVS CIRCVMVAGVS. surgit mane puer — spes scilicet acrior urget — spumiferasque secans Ostia linquit aquas ; et iam navis adest, funem iam dextera prendit, Luciferoque suum navita cantat ' ave.' carmina dum resonat late clarissima pontus, Nereis horrendis vaticinata modis, ' a ! miser,' exclamat, ' tibi cor iuvenile superbit, at video funus qua ferat unda tuum. litora se caveis en ! desolata receptant, mista ubi ferventi spumat harena sale ; mitulus, heu miserum ! costis obscaenus inhaeret, illudit cordi squilla proterva tuo.' cui puer, ' a ! demens, non evitabile fatum, sive errare mihi seu remanere placet ; dedignor segnes trivisse domesticus horas, otia praetrepidans rumpere pectus avet. 408 DUBLIN TRANSLATIONS. My mother clings about my neck, My sisters crying " Stay, for shame ! " My father raves of death and wreck — They are all to blame ! they are all to blame ! God help me ! save I take my part Of danger on the roaring sea, A devil rises in my heart, Far worse than any death to me.' TENNYSON. NURSERY RHYME. There were two birds sat on a stone, Fa la la la lal de : One flew away, and then there was one, Fa la la la lal de : The other flew after, and then there was none, Fa la la la lal de : And so the poor stone was left all alone, Fa la la la lal de. GAMMER GURTON. \\ GAMMER GURTON— NURSERY RHYME. 409 haeret in amplexu mater, flentesque sorores, * ire paras,' ululant, ' nee pudor ipse vetat?' ' naufragus occumbes,' genitor male sanus, ' in undis,' augurat — heu ! peccat, peccat amore domus ! actum est de nobis (sed di prohibete benigni !), ni tentem tumidas aequoris ipse minas ; nescio quid sceleris mea mens malesuada revolvit, ibimus ! est levius bisque quaterque mori.' T. J. B. BRADY. An' OmNflN *ATI2. traditur in saxo par insedisse volucrum ; (favete linguis, civium profane grex.) nee mora : deserta quin avolet una sorore. (felix volucrum nosse qui mentes potest ! ) protinus en rapidis sequitur comes altera pennis, (cur, quaeris ? heu ! non scire fas est omnia.) quo factum ut scopulus Gabiis desertior esset. (narrata vobis fabula est. iam plaudite.) HASTINGS CROSSLEY. 410 DUBLIN TRANSLATIONS. NIGHT'S HARMONIES. As the moon's soft splendour O'er the faint pale starlight of heaven Is thrown, So thy voice most tender To the strings without soul has given Its own. The stars will awaken Though the moon sleep a full hour later To night ; No leaf will be shaken While the dews of your melody scatter Delight Though the sound overpowers, Sing again ; with your dear voice revealing A tone Of some world far from our's. Where music and moonlight and feeling Are one ! SHELLEY— NIGHT' S HARMONIES. ill MVSAEA MELE. Cynthia mulcentem dififundit in aethera lucem ; sidereae pallent frigida signa faces : sic tua vox inter blandas blandissima chordas mente sua donat, vivaque chorda sonat. dormiat ipsa licet nocturnam luna per horam, astra tamen solitis ignibus orta trement, nuUaque frons usquam spirante movebitur aura dum tua ceu rores carmina molle fluent, me penetrant captum nimia dulcedine voces : nunc cane ! nunc iterum, rara puella, cane ! prata novo sub sole mihi felicia pandis, qua veneres sociant Cynthia, cantus, amor. JOHN VERSCHOYLE. 412 DUBLIN TRANSLATIONS. A SMALL SWEET IDYLL. Come down, O maid, from yonder mountain height; What pleasure lives in height (the shepherd sang) : In height and cold, the splendour of the hills ? But cease to move so near the Heavens, and cease To glide a sunbeam by the blasted Pine — To sit a star upon the sparkling spire ; And come, for Love is of the valley, come ! For Love is of the valley, come thou down And find him : by the happy threshold he, Or hand in hand with Plenty in the maize, Or red with spirted purple of the vats, Or foxlike in the vine ; nor cares to walk With Death and Morning on the silver horns ; Nor wilt thou snare him in the white ravine, Nor find him dropt upon the firths of ice, That huddling slant in furrow-cloven falls To roll the torrent out of diisky doors : TENNYSON— A SMALL SWEET IDYLL. 413 CANTANDO RIGIDAM DEDVCIT MONTE PVELLAM. quin ades hue, virg-o, quin deseris ardua montis ? (incipit upilio) ; quid enim te summa morantem frigora delectant tantum, candorque iugorum ? desine cunctari caelo vicinior, exstas seu delapsa velut pinus iubar inter obustas, vertice seu stellae ritu subnixa corusco. toUe moras ; invade viam ; si quaeris Amorem, incola vallis Amor ; fert laeta ad limina gressum, vel divae iunctus dextrae ditantis aristas it comes, elisove rubescit sanguine prelis, vel sub vite latet ceu vulpes. nulla per albas mortis et Aurorae sequitur vestigia cautes ; non tibi in anfractu niveo captandus agenti, aequora non sidit supra glacialia, sulcis concretum trudunt quae per declivia pondus certatim, ut luteis effundant faucibus amnem. 4U DUBLIN TRANSLATIONS. But follow ; let the torrent dance thee down To find him in the valley. Let the wild Lean-headed Eagles yelp alone, and leave The monstrous ledges there to slope, and spill Their thousand wreaths of dangling water-smoke, That like a broken purpose waste in air : So waste not thou ; but come, for all the vales Await thee : azure pillars of the earth Arise to thee : the children call, and I Thy shepherd pipe, and sweet is every sound ; Sweeter thy voice, but every sound is sweet : Myriads of rivulets hurrying through the lawn. The moan of doves in immemorial elms, And murmuring of innumerable bees. TENNYSON. TENNYSON— A SMALL SWEET IDYLL. 415 at sequere, ut rivus te desiliente sequacem vortice corripiat ; pete gaudia vallis, et ales regia det macro sine raucos gutture questus sola sibi ; proni cum strata immania montis vellera defundant pendentia mille vaporum, quae mox vanescent, ceu mens infracta, per auras ; tu ne vanescas ; cito sed delabere, nam te exspectant valles ; tibi surgit caerula fumo quaeque columna focis ; te clamat cuncta iuventus ; te mea pastoris suspirat fistula ; circum omnia dulce sonant, sed vox tua dulcior omni — plurimus hos properat per saltus rivus, et ulmos assiduo annosas complent maerore palumbes, innumeraeque apium miscentur murmure gentes. WILLIAM MOOKE MORGAN. 416 DUBLIN TRANSLATIONS. IN A GARDEN. Why, Damon, with the forward day- Dost thou thy little spot survey, From tree to tree with doubtful cheer Pursue the progress of the year. What winds arise, what rains descend — When thou before that year shalt end ? What do thy noon -tide walks avail. To clear the leaf, and pick the snail. Then wantonly to death decree An insect usefuUer than thee ? Thou and the worm are brother kind, As low, as earthy, and as blind. Vain wretch ! canst thou expect to see The downy peach make court to thee ? Or that thy sense shall ever meet The bean-flower's deep enbosom'd sweet Exhaling with an evening blast? Thy evenings then will all be past. SEWELL—IN A GARDEN. 417 VITAE SVMMA BREVIS. noto quid horti redderis angulo, vergente Phoebo, Postume ? quid iuvat his flore vestitis et illis arboribus numerare menses, queis forte ventis, quove Diespiter descendat imbri quaerere ? gaudia cur vana sectaris, supremus hie tibi si prbperatur annus ? quidve ambulantis profuerit labor, frondis voracem si cocleam novae calcaris avolsam proterva dignior ipse perire planta ? fraterna caecum condicio tenet utrumque; eodem pulvere conditi sordetis. expectasne demens, pruna tibi domino rependens dum iactet arbos mitia ? num tuis halare odores naribus intimos, sub noctis adventum, fabarum flos quoties recreatur aura, 418 DUBLIN TRANSLATIONS. Thy narrow pride, thy fancied green (For vanity's in little seen), All must be left when Death appears. In spite of wishes, groans, and tears ; Nor one of all thy plants that grow But rosemary shall with thee go. SI ABEST QVOD AMAS, PRAESTO SIMVLACRA TAMEN SVNT. At the mid hour of night, when stars are weeping, I fly To the lone vale we loved, when life shone warm in thine eye ; And I think oft if spirits can steal from the regions of air To revisit past scenes of delight, thou wilt come to me there, And tell me our love is remembered even in the sky. MOORE— EVEN IN THE SKY. 419 optas ? supremum condideris diem, fastusque et horti duke reliqueris solamen angusti, superbus scilicet exiguo colonus. non vota tecum non lacrimae valent auferre in Orcum quae misero tibi arbusta florescunt, marini fonde brevi comitande roris ! RICHARD W. WEST. KEAOMAI MNH2A20AI EMEIO. nocte ego de media fugio, rorantibus astris, seclusam ad vallem, quae, cum fulgeret ocellis vitae flamma tuis, quondam gratissima risit ; saepius ut mecum reputem num sedibus almis caeli se possint umbrae subducere furtim, ut visent iterum loca laeta, aevique prioris delicias. quod si fas est, hue advehere et tu, teque vel in caelo dicas meminisse tuorum. JOHN F. DA VIES. 420 DUBLIN TRANSLATIONS. THE GOOD GREAT MAN. ' How seldom, friend, a good great man inherits Honour and wealth, with all his work and pains ! It seems a story from the world of spirits When any man obtains that which he merits, Or any merits that which he obtains.' For shame, my friend, renounce this idle strain ! What would' st thou have a good great man obtain ? Wealth, title, dignity, a golden chain, Or heaps of corses which his sword had slain ? Goodness and greatness are not means, but ends. Hath he not always treasures, always friends, The good great man ? Three treasures — love, and light, And calm thoughts, equable as infant's breath ; And three fast friends, more sure than day or night — Himself, his Maker, and the angel Death. COLERIDGE. COLERIDGE— THE GOOD GREAT MAN. 421 IDEM STOICE. incolumis virtus quam raro sumit honores, aut modicum victum ! Numa sanctus spondeat auctor fortunam similem meritis, huic credere noli.' cui tu verba miser ? Mendose colligis, amens ; divitias fasces molitos strage triumphos, quae tu summa putes, virtus num curat habere ? at propter se non aliud fuit ipsa petenda iustitia et virtus : virtuti suppetit usu vera dies communis amor tranquilla sereni ingenii lux : virtutem non deserit unquam ipsa deusque parens et mors quae liberet aequa. T. MAGUIRE. 422 DUBLIN TRANSLATIONS. GERAINT. And in a moment after, wild Limours, Borne on a black horse, like a thunder cloud, Whose skirts are loosened by the breaking storm, Half ridden off with by the thing he rode, And all in passion, uttering a dry shriek, Dashed on Geraint, who closed with him, and bore Down by the length of lance and arm beyond The crupper, and so left him stunned or dead ; And overthrew the next that followed him. And blindly rushed on all the rout behind. But at the flash and motion of the man They vanished, panic-stricken, like a shoal Of darting fish, that on a summer morn Adown the crystal dykes of Camelot Come slipping o'er their shadows on the sand ; But if a man who stands upon the brink But lift a shining hand against the sun. TENNYSON— GERAINT. 423 AENEAS. qualis per caelum prorupto turbine densus volvitur interdum nimbus glomeratque procellas, haud mora, Turnus adest ; — campo niger ecce ! furentem ipse furens sonipes vehit, et vix audit habenas ; — sic ruit, et pro voce sonus fugit aridus ore : ilium autem Aeneas venientem excepit, et, hastam, porrecta quantum potuit protendere dextra, in tantum proturbat equo, stratumque relinquit ; inde, ducem sequitur qui proximus, Actora fortem sternit, et in medium caeco ruit impete volgxis. at quale interdum aestivo sub sole videmus leni per vitreas incessu labier undas squamigerum genus ; et notat imas subter harenas umbra quisque sua pingens, luduntque natantes ; tum si forte astans aliquis de margine ripae porrigat elatam dextram, ut videre trementes ut fugere illi ; nusquam lucere videres 424 DUBLIN TRANSLATIONS. There is not left the twinkle of a fin Betwixt the cressy islets white in flower ; So, scared but at the motion of the man, Fled all the boon companions of the Earl, And left him lying in the public way ; So vanish friendships only made in wine. TENNYSON. THE GAIN OF LOSS. Come, give me back my blossoms,' Sigh'd the palm-tree to the Nile ; But the river flow'd unheeding With its soft and silver smile. It seem'd to say, ' 'Tis better far To leave your flowers to me ; I will bear their yellow beauty on To the wond'ring, wond'ring sea.' The amber tresses vanish' d. And the dear spring fragrance fled ; But the welcome fruit in clusters Came richly up instead. HORATIUS BONAR. BON AR— THE GAIN OF LOSS. 425 vel minimam squamam de tot modo millibus unam, floribus albentes qua lympha interluit ulvas — haud secus, expert! rueret quo turbine, campo diffugere omnes quos secum in bella sodales duxerat infelix Turnus, linquuntque lacentem. tantum quippe valet pactum inter pocula foedus. WILLIAM E. GABBKTT. PER DAMNA DVCIT OPES. ' rivule, da flores (ita margine palma gemebat) da redeant flores, gloria prisca, mei ! ' it liquidas, velut ante, vias argenteus amnis ; purius argento ridet in amne iubar. illi lympha fugax ' nostro sapientius,' inquit, ' florea credideris dona ferenda sinu ; sic fluitent, donee mirantibus aequora nymphis flavescant croceo munere tincta tuo.' intereunt flores, fragrantior interit aetas ; marcent effusae, lutea turba, comae ; at vernum posuit grata vice ramus odorem, mutaturus opes, pomifer anne, tuas. HASTINGS CROSSLEY. 426 DUBLIN TRANSLATIONS. THE GOLDEN YEAR. The world's great age begins anew, The golden years return, The earth doth like a snake renew Her winter weeds outworn : Heaven smiles, and faiths and empires gleam Like wrecks of a dissolving dream. 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. A loftier Argo cleaves the main, Fraught with a later prize ; Another Orpheus sings again. And loves, and weeps, and dies. A new Ulysses leaves once more Calypso for his native shore. SHELLEY— THE GOLDEN YEAR. 427 NOWS RERVM ORDO. aetas iam redit Integra confectae senio tempus et aureum terrae. iam, positis velut post bnimam exuviis, terra micat recens. caelo fausta redit dies, exilesque simul regum apices fugat, pallentesque patrum deos, discussas veluti noctis imagines ; Hellasque altera fluctlbus e dlis potior ducit orlgines lympharum. rapit obviam Peneus latlces Lucifero suos ; iam iam Cycladas alteras primaevi requles alta tenet maris, instaurata virent ubi Tempe. findit aquas altera grandior Argo, praemia posterae virtutis raplens. altera flebilem aufert Orphea mors novum. Iam Laertlades alter Atlantlde mutat litora patriae. RICHARD W. WEST. 428 DUBLIN TRANSLATIONS. SHE STOOPS TO CONQUER. HARDCASTLE — MASXOW. Hard. I no longer know my own house. It's turned all topsy-turvy. His servants have got drunk already. I'll bear it no longer; and yet, from my respect for his father, I'll be calm. Mr. Marlow, your servant. I'm your very humble servant. Marl. Sir, your humble servant. (^y?i/^) What's to be the wonder now ? Hard. I believe, sir, you must be sensible, sir, that no man alive ought to be more welcome than your father's son, sir. I hope you think so? Marl. I do, from my soul, sir. I don't want much entreaty. I generally make my father's son welcome wherever he goes. Hard. I believe you do, from my soul, sir. But though I say nothing to your own conduct, that of your servants is insufferable. Their manner of GOLDSMITH— SHE STOOPS TO CONQUER. 429 ANCILLARIA. CHREMES — PAMPHILUS. Chr. utrum hae meaene aedis an alienae sient nequeo satis decernere, ita turbas dedit novus hospes hice noster ; iamdudum ebrii sunt servoli eius ; vix quidem tolerabilest. sed patris honoris causa me reprimam tamen. salvere iubeo Pamphilum — Pam. salve senex — quid sit novi demiror — Chr. adolescens bone, vix te animi fallit quam tui natum patris oportere esse digniorem neminem hospitio apud me. Pam. ne tibi dicam dolo, non est quod instes, namque mihi patris mei cum nato ubiquest hospitalis tessera. Chr. res hercle apparet. ipse quod agas nil moror, sed servolorum flagitia haud ferenda sunt : 430 DUBLIN TRANSLATIONS. drinking is setting a very bad example in this house, I assure you. Marl. I protest, my very good sir, that is no fault of mine. If they don't drink as they ought they are to blame. I ordered them not to spare the cellar. I did, I assure you. Here, let one of my servants come up. My positive directions were, that, as I did not drink myself, they should make up for my deficiencies below. Hard. Then they had your orders for what they do ? I'm satisfied ! Marl. They had, I assure you. You shall hear from one of themselves. GOLDSMITH. A BOTTLE AND A FRIEND. Here's a bottle and an honest friend ! What wad ye wish for mair, man ? Wha kens, before his life may end. What his share may be o' care, man ? Then catch the moments as they fly. And use them as ye ought, man ; — Believe me, happiness is shy. And comes not aye when sought, man. BURNS— A BOTTLE AND A FRIEND. 431 exemplo eorum — sic bibunt — miserrime corrumpitur mi familia. Pam. pol si res itast, ipsos, senex, non me quidem culpaveris, namque imperavi cantharis ne parcerent. heus Parmenonem hue evoca servom meum — namque ita iubebam potaturus ipse nil, cum superi sicci madidi ut essent inferi. Chr. tun haec iubebas ? sat habeo si res itast, Pam. ego vero iussi, ex ipsis audi nunciam. T. J. B. BRADY. NEC PARCE CADIS TIBI DESTINATIS. est tibi vini cadus et sodalis, Grosphe, nee supra rogitare fas est — cui licet vivo sibi destinatos scire dolores ? carpe iucundum fugientis aevi, si sapis, florem — neque dedecebit — non tibi semper veniet vocanti rara voluptas. EDWARD SULLIVAN. 432 DUBLIN TRANSLATIONS. COMUS. PROLOGUE. But their way Lies through the perplex' d paths of this drear wood, The nodding horror of whose shady brows Threats the forlorn and wandering passenger ; And here their tender age might suffer peril, But that by quick command from sovereign Jove, I was despatch' d for their defence and guard : And listen why, for I will tell you now, What never yet was heard in tale or song. From old or modern bard, in hall or bower. Bacchus, that first from out the purple grape Crush' d the sweet poison of misused wine. After the Tuscan mariners transform' d, Coasting the Tyrrhene Shore, as the wind listed. On Circe's island fell : who knows not Circe, The daughter of the Sun ? whose charmed cup Whoever tasted lost his upright shape, And downward fell into a groveling swine. MILTON— COMUS. 433 'EPMEIA2 AKAKHT" EPI0TNI02. sed atra semita sil varum per devia tesqua patebit. ingressi nigrae formidinis ora superne impendere vident pavidi, aut, se cernere fingunt, spectraque per tenebras, contracta fronte, minantur. hie impuberibus forsan fraus caeca noceret ni dux et custos, missu lovis ipsius, irem impiger. expediam maior quae deinde subesset causa viae ; fando quam nemo audivit, et omnis et novus et priscus vates non rettulit usquam. purpurea princeps domita qui vite Lyaeus ad culpam causas et grata venena paravit, cum Tuscis nautis faciem mutasset, et ultra ventorum arbitrio Tyrrhenas raderet oras, appulit et Circes terras : incognita nulli est insula Soligenae miscentis pocula cantu ; pocula quae si quis gustaret forma peribat recta, volutantisque luto suis induit ora. 434 DUBLIN TRANSLATIONS. This nymph, that gazed upon his clustering locks, With ivy berries wreathed, and his blithe youth. Had by him, ere he parted thence, a son, Much like his father, but his mother more. Whom therefore she brought up, and Comus named : Who, ripe and frolic of his full-grown age, Roving the Celtic and Iberian fields, At last betakes him to this ominous wood. And, in thick shelter of black shades embowered. Excels his mother at her mighty art, Offering to every weary traveller. His orient liquor in a crystal glass. To quench the drouth of Phoebus : which as they taste , (For most do taste through fond intemperate thirst) Soon as the potion works, their human countenance, The express resemblance of the gods, is changed Into some brutish form, of wolf, or bear, Or ounce, or tiger, hog, or bearded goat. All other parts remaining as they were ; And they, so perfect is their misery. Not once perceive their foul disfigurement, But boast themselves more comely than before. And all their friends and native home forget, MILTON— COMUS. 435 nympha dei spissos crines nexosque corymbis respicit, et primo laetantem vere iuventam : iamque fovens retinet dum prolem est nixa virilem, multa patrem ingenio referentem, plurima matrem. sic genitum mater toUit Comumque vocavit : qui simul ac florem est et luxum puberis aevi nactus, abit peregre ; et per Gallica rura et Ibera protinus erravit ; donee vestigia vertit illius infaustae sub densa umbracula silvae ; optavitque sibi sedes, ubi conditus usu assiduo validas genitricis vinceret artes. ille viatori, si cui venit obvius, ultro eoos latices et myrrhina pocula tendit, aestivaeque sitis solatia ; quae simul hospes credulus ore trahit (quod vulgo, captus amore potus, et nimia dulcedine) non mora, vultus ille honor humani, superisque simillima forma, excidit, ut primum coeperunt posse venena. induiturque adeo speciem sibi quisque ferinam ; fit lupus aut ursus, fit lynx, fit barbiger hircus, aut aper aut tigris faciem ; nam cetera membra certa sede manent. adeoque est plena malorum sors, ut, quam foede vitientur corpora, nuUi sit ratio ; at multo sibi pulchrior esse videtur : cura domus dulcis periit gentisque suorum : 436 DUBLIN TRANSLATIONS. To roll with pleasure in a sensual sty. Therefore, when any, favour' d of high Jove, Chances to pass through this adventurous glade, Swift, as the sparkle of a glancing star, I shoot from Heaven, to give him safe convoy. As now I do : but first I must put off These my sky robes, spun out of Iris' woof. And take the weeds and likeness of a swain. That to the service of this house belongs. Who, with his soft pipe, and smooth-dittied song, Well knows to still the wild woods when they roar, And hush the waving woods ; nor of less faith : And in this office of his mountain watch. Likeliest and nearest, to the present aid Of this occasion. But I hear the tread Of hateful steps ; I must be viewless now. MILTON— COMUS. 437 spurcities cordi est, et harae sub sorde cubare. quod si forte aliquis, quern luppiter aequus amavit, ire per hos saltus temerarius ausit iniquos, turn quam Stella facem ducens pernicior alls demittor caelo, fraudem aversurus eunti. id iam munus ago ; sed et exuere ante necesse est vestem caeruleo quam stamine texuit Iris : oraque dehinc servi pannosque imitabor agrestis his dominis qui debet opus, mollisque cicutae suaviloquo cantu callet sedare tumultus ventorum, quamvis Aquilonis saeviat ardor ; cui silvae gemitu positoque furore quiescunt : nee pietate minor ; sed in his quorum indiget usus opportunus adest consors et idoneus idem, excubias quod agit iuga per vicina domorum. quid plura ? ille pedum iam nostras fertur ad aures invisus sonitus, visuque abscondar ab omni. JOHN F. DAVIES. 438 DUBLIN TRANSLATIONS. VLTOR ADEST. Which when his ladie saw, she follow' d fast, And on him catching hold 'gan loud to crie. Not so to leave her, or away to cast, But rather of his hand besought to die. With that he drew his sword all wrathfully, And at one stroke cropp'd off her head with scorne, In that same place wherat it now doth lie. So he my love away with him hath borne, And left me here both his and mine own love to mourn. ' Aread,' quoth he, 'which way then did he make.? And by what marks may he be known again ? ' ' To hope,' said he, ' him soon to overtake. That hence so long departed, is but in vain ; But yet he pricked over yonder plain. And, as I mark'd him, bore upon his shield (By which it's easy him to know again) A broken sword within a bloody field, Expressing well his nature who the same did yield.' SPENSER— A BROKEN SWORD. 439 DABIS IMPROBE POENAS. at postquam mulier iam prodita sensit, inhaeret pone sequens dextrae, funditque has ore loquellas : ' mene fugis, coniunx ? mene aversatus abibis ? quin peremis dextra ? sic iam iuvat ire sub umbras.' ecce ! furens animi gladio conixus amantis heu ! caput abscisum multa deiecit harena. nunc quoque onus terram visu miserabile foedat, is rapto potitur ; — rapto spoliatus amore hanc, illam doleo, sortem miseratus utramque. * ast age,' ait, ' praedo qua dein regione viarum cesserit ; hoc saltern ; turn quae sint signa doceto. ille autem, ' si iam tanto superare priorem posse brevi reris, spes, o bone, pascis inanes. sed si tantus amor cursus cognoscere, — campo illuc flexit iter ; clipeique insigne cruentum — infractumque ensem, pugnamque, et vulnera cruda — quippe sui specimen gerit, inceditque superbus.' W. E. GABBETT. 440 DUBLIN TRANSLATIONS. LES TRAVAILLEURS DE LA MER. No fish astir in our heaving net, The sky is dark and the night is wet, And we must ply the lusty oar, For the tide is ebbing from the shore. And sad are they whose faggots burn, So kindly stored for our return. Our boat is small, and the tempest raves ; And nought is heard but the lashing waves, And the sullen roar of the angry sea. And the wild winds piping drearily : Yet sea and tempest rise in vain, We'll bless our blazing hearths again. Push bravely, mates ; our guiding star Now from its turret streameth far : And now along the nearing strand See swiftly move yon flaming brand : Before the midnight hour is past, We'll quaff our bowl and mock the blast. LES TRA VAILLEURS DE LA MER. 441 nONTON En' IX0TOENTA. nubila contristant noctem, ruit imbribus aether, nostra reluctant! retia pisce vacant ; robore iam valldo lentandus in aequore ramus, nam pelagus refluas litore sorbet aquas ; triste per augxirium sponsae sua pectora ducunt, dum cumulant nobis ligna reposta focis. parvula nostra ratis, bacchatur et ira procellae, nil nisi sollicitus fluctus in aure sonat ; et quidquid desaevit inexorabilis unda, et quidquid vasti sibilat aura noti. sed frustra pontus frustraque procella minatur, ardentes dabitur mox celebrare lares, quare agite, o socii, remis incumbite, nobis fundit ab excelsa lumina turre pharus. iamque propinquantis passim per littoris oras cernitis accensas pervolitare faces, ante poli mediam quam nox traiecerit arcem ducemus spreto pocula plena noto. T. J. B. BRADY. 442 DUBLIN TRANSLATIONS. ENGLISH BARDS AND SCOTCH REVIEWERS. Why slumbers Gifford? once was ask'd in vain. Why slumbers GifFord ? let us ask again. Are there no follies for his pen to purge ? Are there no fools whose backs demand the scourge ? Are there no sins for Satire's bard to greet ? Stalks not gigantic vice in every street ? Shall peers or princes tread pollution's path, And 'scape alike the law's and Muse's wrath ? Nor blaze with guilty glare through future time, Eternal beacons of consummate crime ? Arouse thee, Gifford ! be thy promise claim'd, Make bad men better, or at least ashamed ! BYRON— ENGLISH BARDS, ETC. 443 EXORIARE. ' Flaccus ubi est ? ' dudum frustra, ' vigilatne ? ' rogamus. ' Flaccus ubi est ? ' magna pellentes voce soporem, ' nunc demum dormit, male cum delirat ubique stultitia, et stulti praebent sua crura flagello ? ' ' at peccant ' inquis ' satira non digna notari. ' baud ita : nequities late spatiata superbit per plateas, regesque luto maculantur eodem ridentes legisque notas irasque Camaenae. suntne parum meriti sceleris lucentia taedis stare mali monimenta viris horrenda futuris ? an non iam vigilet sceleratae Bestius urbis, ut, si non Virtus, teneat modo Rumor iniquos ! WILLIAM G. TYRRELL. 444 DUBLIN TRANSLATIONS. THE THREE SAILORS. [ Version taken from the Preface to O. W. Holmes' ' Wit and Humour.^] There were three sailors, of Bristol city, Who took a boat and went to sea ; But first with beef and captain's biscuit And pickled pork, they loaded she. There was guzzling Jack and gorging Jimmy, And the youngest he was little Billee. Now very soon they were so greedy. They did not leave not one split pea. Says guzzling Jack to gorging Jimmy, * I am confounded hungery.' Says gorging Jim to guzzling Jacky, ' We have no wittles, so we must eat we.' Says guzzling Jack to gorging Jimmy, ' O gorging Jim, what a fool you be ! There's little Bill, as is young and tender : We're old and tough ; so lets eat he.' THACKERAY— THE THREE SAILORS. 445 SESQVIVLIXES. olim Brundusio tria fortia corda relicto conducta tentant aequora vasta rate, ante tamen fama est epimenia mucida farris cumque subus salsas imposuisse boves. Perniciosus erat Penius Barathroque Macellus, latrantes stomachi ; Telemachusque puer. nee mora : non restat murem quod pascere posset unum ; adeo insignis mansit utrique gula. quae cum vidisset Penius sic orsus : ' amice, dispeream, ventrem ni premit arta fames ! ' tum Barathro : ' victus quoniam non suppetit usus, nostrum alter vereor ne sit edendus' ait. olli indignanti similis similisque iocanti : ' ecquem stultitiae ponis, inepte, modum ! Telemachi succo turgent (conciditur ? ) artus ; non faciunt denti corpora dura senum. 446 DUBLIN TRANSLATIONS. O Bill, we're going to kill and eat you : So undo the collar of your chemee. When Bill he heard this infamation, He used his pocket handkerchee : ' O let me say my catechism, As my poor mammy taught it me ! ' ' Make, haste, make haste,' says guzzling Jacky, While Jim puU'd out his snickersnee. So Bill went up the maintop gallant mast, Where down he fell on his bended knee : He scarce had said his catechism, When up he jumps, ' There's land I see ! ' There's Jerusalem and Madagascar, And North and South Ameriky. There's the British fleet a-riding at anchor. And Admiral Nelson, K.C.B. So when they came to the Admiral's vessel, He first hanged Jack, then flogg'd Jimmy : But as for little Bill, he made him The captain of a seventy-three. W. M. THACKERAY. THACKERAY— THE THREE SAILORS. 447 Stat tibi mactatum ferro consumere corpus ; da, puer, a tunica libera colla tua.' audierat iuvenis : lacrimamque premebat obortam cum subito emunctis naribus esset opus. ' o bone, bis senas liceat recitare tabellas, quas olim didici, matre docente, puer.' ' tolle moras ' Barathro, ' res est properanda ! ' securi terribilis stricta, Perniciose, taces. interea mali fastigia summa secutus incipit aeria flectere sede genu ; vixque sacris functus puer, ' o gratissima,' clamat * tellus ' erecto corpore * visa mihi ! ' apparet Dodona, apparet et ultima Thule, et gemina Hesperio terra potita polo — apparet classis (puppes habet ancora), regnum cuius, honoratum nomen, Agrippa tenet, quo cum perventum est, Barathro, tibi pascere corvos contingit : loris urere terga, Peni : at puer est navi praefectus, qualis in hostem quino per medias remige fertur aquas. HASTINGS CEOSSLEY. 448 DUBLIN TRANSLATIONS. THE WORLD. Tjie world's a bubble, and the life of man 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 oppress' d. What life is best ? Courts are but only superficial schools To dandle fools ; The rural part is turn'd into a den Of savage men ; And where 's a city from foul vice so free But may be term'd the worst of all the three ? BACON— THE WORLD. 449 HEV, HEV, NOS MISEROS, QVAM TOTVS HOMVNCIO NIL EST ! omnia bullatae quam sunt sine pondere nugae ! quam nihili angustae properata diecula vitae ! materie miser a prima, miser editus alvo, funus obire miser miserum cito pergit homuUus. a cunis agit omne infaustus et iratis dis aerumna gravis in mediis terroribus aevum. ergo si quis avet mortalia credulus, unda exprimit effigiem, scribitque in pulvere nomen. dum tamen hie aegri in tanto maerore moramur optima quaenam sit vitae via forte requiras ? stultitiae numquid nisi porticus aula tyranni, vecordum nutrix, vera ratione carentum ? rura rudes habitant, inculti, pectora bruta ; orbe pererrato terrarum ubi viseris urbem vincere quam vitiis non rus fatearis et aulam ? 450 DUBLIN TRANSLATIONS. Domestic cares afflict the husband's bed, Or pains his head : 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're worse in peace: What, then, remains, but that we still should cry For being born, and, being born, to die ? BACON. BACON— THE WORLD. 451 sollicitant secreta domus et amara maritos semper, et infestant genialem plurima lectum. caelibe qui vita degit, sibi castus iniquam fortunam gemit, aut stupris lascivit adulter : progeniem cupit hie ; qui possidet, esse parentem infelix queritur se, atque orbis invidet : ergo, die mihi, quid difFert uxorem duxeris an non ? hie sibi vivit onus ; nocet huic sociasse laborem. si natale solum placuitque domestica cura taedia iam subeunt ; trepidum discrimina versant trans mare qui currit peregrinisque exulat oris, bella truci clangore expallent dissona cives ; instant securae graviora pericula paci. quod superest, quaeso, numquid nisi flere decet nos nascentes, natos incepta cedere vita ? JOHN R. WEST. -152 DUBLIN TRANSLATIONS. ON SHAKSPEARE. What needs my Shakspeare, for his honoured bones, The labour of an age, in piled stones ? Or that his hallowed reliques should be hid Under a star-ypointing pyramid ? Dear son of Memory, great heir of Fame, What need'st thou such weak witness of thy name ? Thou, in our wonder and astonishment, Hast built thyself a livelong monument. For whilst, to the shame of slow endeavouring art, Thy easy numbers flow ; and that each heart Hath, from the leaves of thy unvalued book, Those Delphic lines with deep impression took ; Then thou, our fancy of itself bereaving, Dost make us marble with too much conceiving ; And, so sepulchred, in such pomp dost lie. That kings, for such a tomb, would wish to die. MILTON— ON SHAKSPEARE. 453 'DO THY WORST, OLD TIME.' quid prodest nostrae vati sanctaeque favillae per saeclum lapides labor acer si struere instet ? aut, si quid divi restat mortale poetae, pyramis ut condat ferienti sidera mole ? Mnemosynes soboles dulcissime, maxime Famae heres, non istos curant tua nomina testes, dum stupet adspectans cantus miracula lector exigis ipse tibi marmor quod duret in aevum. nam tibi, quo pudeat pigram conaminis artem, dum faciles numeri manant, sensusque per omnes dum tuus insculpit liber aureus undique nostrae menti sortilegumque et non delebile carmen, surripis ingenio vires, nimiumque ciendo corda hominum, paullatim ipsos in marmora vertis ; immanique adeo cumulatus honore quiescis ut mutare velint reges ea funera vita. JOHN F. DAVIES. 454 DUBLIN TRANSLA7I0NS. THE BACHELOR'S DREAM. My pipe is lit ; my grog is mix'd : My curtain's drawn, and all is snug. Old Puss is in her elbow-chair, And Tray is sitting on the rug. Last night I had a curious dream, Miss Susan Bates was Mistress Mogg : What do you think of that, my cat ? What do you think of that, my dog ? She looked so fair, she sang so well, I could but woo, and she was won. Myself in blue, the bride in white, The ring was placed, the deed was done. Away we went in chaise-and four. As fast as grinning boys could flog : What do you think of that^ my cat ? What do you think of that, my dog ? HOOD— THE BACHELOR'S DREAM. 455 SOMNIVM CAELIBIS. herba ardet fragrans, cepit cratera Lyaeum, praebet ridentem clausa fenestra larem. iam felis propriam requiescit nacta cathedram, et Glaucis, quanta est, sternitur ante focum. praeterita Rufo sopito nocte Metellam nubere portendit prodigiosa quies. talia die, felis, moneant quid somnia, tuque, die, catula, et quo sint conicienda modo ! bella fuit facies : belle cantabat : amavi : quid facerem ? atque dedit rara puella manus. virgo albata venit, mihi vestis caerula fulget, anulus et sacrum rite coronat opus, ponimur in reda pueris ridentibus : ' heia ' ! virga crepat, rapidis avehimurque rotis. talia die, felis, moneant quid somnia, tuque, die, catula, et quo sint conicienda modo ! 456 DUBLIN TRANSLATIONS. What loving tete-3.-tetes to come ! But tete-^-tetes must still defer ! When Susan came to live with me, Her mother came to live with her ; With sister Belle she couldn't part : But all my ties had leave to jog. What do you think of that, my cat ? What do you think of that, my dog ? Her mother brought a pretty Poll, A monkey, too : what work he made ! Her sister introduced a beau ; My Susan had a favourite maid. She had a tabby of her own, A snappish mongrel christen' d Gog: What do you think of that, my cat ? What do you think of that, my dog ? The monkey bit, the parrot scream' d ; All day the sister strumm'd and sung The petted maid was such a scold, My Susan learned to use her tongue. Her mother had such wretched health She sat and croaked like any frog : What do you think of that, my cat ? What do you think of that, my dog ? HOOD— THE BACHELOR'S DREAM. 457 qualia cum sola finxi mihi gaudia soli ! gaudia quis faciunt fata maligna moram. nam secum ad Rufi deducta Metella Penates adduxit matrem, filia grata, suam. addidit huic Annam non divellenda sororem, sed parvi duxit me caruisse meis. vos o concilium fidum, felisque canisque, dicite, quid monstrent somnia mira novi ! cur te, rauce, queror comitari, psittace, socrum ? simia vastabat, pestis alenda, domum. sectari nitidus visus mihi Trossulus Annam, visaque mi dominae Latris adesse suae, non suus aelurus, catulus non defuit illi, cui nomen Titan, hybrida, dente minax. o canis et felis, Rufi vos este senatus, res nova defertur ; quid sibi visa volunt ? simia dum mordet, dum clamas, psittace, Musas dum colit aversas voce lyraque soror, voce furit Latris, dominae dulcissima rerum, ipsaque fit lingua prompta Metella sua. perpetuo tardos odiosa loquacula morbos voce malae ranae questa sedebat anus, talia die, felis, moneant quid somnia, tuque die, catula, et quo sint conicienda modo ! 458 DUBLIN TRANSLATIONS. No longer 'deary,' 'duck,' and 'dove,' I soon came down to simple M. ; The very servants cross' d my wish ; My Susan let me down to them. The poker hardly seem'd my own : I might as well have been a log. What do you think of that, my cat ? What do you think of that, my dog ? My clothes they were the queerest shape ; Such coats and hats she never met : My ways they were the oddest ways ! My friends were such a vulgar set ! Poor Tomkinson was snubb'd and huff' d ; She could not bear that Mister Blogg : What do you think of that, my cat ? What do you think of that, my dog ? At times we had a spar, and then Mamma must mingle in the song : The sister took a sister's part; The maid declared her master wrong. The parrot learn' d to call me 'fool !' My life was like a London fog : What do you think of that, my cat ? What do you think of that, my dog ? HOOD— THE BACHELOR' S DREAM. 459 dulcia nomina anas, mea vita, columba silentur : littera nunc Rufo est ista canina satis, mox famulis ipsis, facinus miserabile, coram obloquitur fracto saeva puella viro. iamque super foculo componere ligna timebam, nee potui stipes vilior esse domi. talia die, felis, moneant quid somnia, tuque die, catula, et quo sint conicienda mode ! saepe querebatur de prava veste mariti ; risus erant petasi, nee placuere togae : saepe viro mores, saepe exprobrabat amicos, dedignata ortos inferiore loco, insperata bono fecit convicia Balbo : ' an tolerandus' ait ' Ponticus iste mihi !' talia die, felis, moneant quid somnia, tuque die, catula, et quo sint conicienda modo ! cum vero altercamur, init certamina mater, et partem pugnae vindicat ipsa sibi. cara soror carae succurrit voce sorori : condemnatque reum non proba Latris herum. ' stulte' ! salutabat me psittacus ore perito, visaque mi nebulis tristior ire dies, talia die, felis, moneant quid somnia, tuque, die, catula, et quo sint conicienda modo ! 460 DUBLIN TRANSLATIONS. My Susan's taste was superfine, As proved by bills that had no end. I never had a decent coat : I never had a coin to spend. She forced me to resign my club, ■ Lay down my pipe, retrench my grog. What do you think of that, my cat ? What do you think of that, my dog ? Each Sunday night we gave a rout To fops and flirts — a pretty list ; And when I tried' to steal away, I found my study full of whist. Then, first to come and last to go. There always was a Captain Hogg : What do you think of that, my cat ? What do you think of that, my dog ? Now, was not that an awful dream. For one who single is and snug ; With Pussy in her elbow-chair. And Tray reposing on the rug ? If I must totter down the hill, 'Tis safest done without a clog : What do you think of that, my cat ? What do you think of that, my dog ? HOOD— THE BACHELOR'S DREAM. 461 uxorem minime esse rudem docuere libelli argenti expensi, sed sine fine, virum. sordidus ipse foris frustra spatiabar in urbe, asse uno, si quid forte placeret, egens. non me passa frui sociorum est improba coetu, non refici calamo, non caluisse mero. heu ! heu ! spectati, felisque canisque, sodales, dicite, quid Rufi somnia dira canant ! turba die festo pueri nitidaeque puellae complebant totam luxuriosa domum. quaque latere volo sonat alea iacta recessu, fallere bacchantes nee datur ulla via. ante omnes Verres, nisi nomine fallor, adesse, Verres post omnes visus abire domo. ei mihi ! quo spectant, felis, mea somnia dira ? quo, catula, et quo sunt conicienda modo ? prodigiosa quidem narravi somnia caelebs, cui secura quies, cui sine lite domus. cui felis magna dormit composta cathedra, et Glaucis placidum sternitur ante focum. tutius ad Manes, Parcae, sufHamine nuUo descendam tardas impediente rotas, hoc melius : nonne hue spectant mea somnia, felis ? sic coniecta tibi nonne, catella, placent ? ARTHUR PALMER. 462 DUBLIN TRANSLATIONS. THE SHORTNESS OF LIFE. 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 my heir,' That man extends life's natural brevity : This is, this is the only way To outlive Nestor in a day. COWLEY— THE SHORTNESS OF LIFE. 463 AD THALIARCHVM. aestuat fluctu nimis inquieto vita ; subter nos posita dolosa nube per quotquQt numerantur omnes labimur annos. nulla non nobis rapitur volatu lux procelloso ; nisi traditurus lampada aetatis stadium cucurrit nemo diurnum. qui tamen cursum placidus peractum respicit, qui iam propiore viso fine secunis, ' mihi sit superstes gloria,' dixit; hie sibi fato breve destinatum ampliat vitae spatium : vel uno sole sic demum, Thaliarche, totum Nestora vives. SAMUEL ALLEN. 464 D UBLIN TRANSLA TIONS. THE BRIDE IS DEAD. The bride is dead ! the bride is dead ! Cold and fair and frail she lieth ; Wrapt is she in sullen lead ; And a flower is at her head ; And the breeze above her sigheth, Through the night and through the day, ' Fled away ! fled away ! ' Once — but what can that avail ? — Once she wore within her bosom Pity which did never fail ; A hue that dash'd the lily pale ; And upon her cheek a blossom Such as yet was never known : — All is past and overthrown ! Mourn ! the sweetest bride is dead ; And her knight is sick with sorrow That her bloom is lapp'd in lead ; Yet he hopeth, fancy fed, He may kiss his love to-morrow. But the breezes — what say they ? ' Fled away ! fled away ! ' BARRY CORNWALL. BARRY CORNWALL— THE BRIDE IS DEAD. 465 LVGETE O VEKERES CVPIDINESQVE. mors rapuit nuptam, rapuit mors ferrea nuptam ; frigidulis membris forma tenella iacet ; constringit miseram non exorabilis area, floreaque exornat rite corolla caput : et circumvolitans nocturna diurnaque, 'fugit,' ' fugit,' flebilibus murmurat aura sonis. quid prodest miserae miseros relevare quod olim gaudebat, cura sedula, larga manu ? pectora quid prosunt, superans quid lilia candor ? quid flos non alio qualis in ore fuit ? heu ! quidquid pulchri ridebat, amabile quidquid, abstulit atra dies, heu ! decus omne fuit, lugete o Veneres ! rapuit mors aspera nuptam, heu ! rapuit qua non dulcior ulla fuit ; insolabiliter dolet aegro corde maritus lurida delicias quod tenet area suas ; spem tamen ille fovet, ' cum crastina venerit Eos, basia dilectae, basia mille, dabo.' a spem fallacem ! quid murmurat aura susurrans ? * fugit' flebilibus murmurat aura sonis. T. J. B. BRADY. 466 DUBLIN TRANSLATIONS. IDLENESS. Idleness is a stream which flows slowly on, but yet undermines the foundation of every virtue. A vice of a more lively nature were a more desirable tyrant than this rust of the mind, which gives a tinc- ture of its nature to every action of one's life. It were as little hazard to be lost in a storm as to lie thus perpetually becalmed : and it is to no purpose to have within us the seeds of a thousand good qualities, if we want the vigour and resolution necessary for exerting them. Death brings all persons back to an equality ; and this image of it, this slumber of the mind, leaves no difference between the meanest intellect and the greatest genius. A faculty for doing things remarkably praiseworthy, thus concealed, is of no more use to the owner than a heap of gold to the man who dares not use it. To-morrow is still the SPECTA TOR —IDLENESS. 467 IMPROBA SIREN. lenta quidem pigroque simillima labitur amni desidia ; at rectos eadem valet unica mores subruere. hac potior mentis robigine versat te dominus, si delicto vemente tumet cor. ilia etenim sufifectus ab omni parte laboras imbecillus, inops, nuUis par rebus agendis. deprensis quanto magis est metuenda procella quam quae lenta fame consument otia ponto haerentes medio ? caeco sub corde Catonem cur geris, inde nihil referens, ignave, Catonis ? non aliam ingenii mensuram insignis et imi mors facit ; exaequatque ignavia, mortis imago, vilibus egregias nuUo discrimine mentes. viribus occultis tantum profeceris ergo quantum congesto qui parcit dives acervo. at ' eras expergiscar' ais delusus ; adest ; lux 468 DUBLIN TRANSLATIONS. fatal time when all is to be rectified : to-morrow comes ; it goes, and still I please myself with the shadow while I lose the reality, unmindful that the present time alone is ours, the future is yet unborn, and the past is dead. The time we live ought not to be computed by the number of years, but by the use that has been made of it. Thus it is not the extent of ground, but the yearly rent which gives the value to the estate. Wretched and thoughtless creatures ! In the only place where covetousness were a virtue, we turn prodigals. SPECTATOR, 17 1 1. IRREPARABILE TEMPVS. Dear as remembered kisses after death. And sweet as those by hopeless fancy feigned On lips that are for others ; deep as love. Deep as first love, and wild with all regret ; O Death in Life, the days that are no more ! TENNYSON. TENNYSON— TEARS, IDLE TEARS. quae modo eras fuerat retro iam cessit, et umbra captum te vana rerum res ipsa fefellit ! fas est (quod nescis) solum praesentibus uti rebus ; adhuc nullum est quod nondum vexerit hora, quodque retro est, periit. non est vitalis habendus annorum longam seriem qui respicit, at qui multa tulit fecitque ; neque is qui possidet agri iugera bis totidem, sed cui seges amplior implet horrea, divitior. nulli quae sola nocere posset avaritia, hac caeci miserique caremus. RICHARD W. WEST. SANCTE PVER, CVRIS HOMINVM QVI GAVDIA MISCES. sic animo recolit quae raptae coniugis olim oscula ferret amans ; vel quae suavissima mentis (nam premere ipsa nefas) mentitur credulus error, exspes : sic iuvenis primos ardentis amores cura furit, penitusque eadem dulcedine tangit : funera quin actum nee funera ducitur aevum. JOHN F. DAVIES. 470 DUBLIN TRANSLATIONS. AN AUTUMN LOVE-SONG. The frail flowers are dying, The thistledown flying, Summer is past ! The first leaves that wither Roam hither and thither With the treacherous blast ; And away to dark ruin he will ravish at last Their green mates from the bough. Where they sigh and tremble now. The surges are shatter' d, The tough ragweed tatter' d, By the gusts of the gale ; O'er lowland and highland, And round the green island, A wanderer pale Strays the sunshine ; the moor seethes with whis- pers of wail. As its reed-grasses quake, And serely shudders the brake. TODHUNTER—AN A UTUMN LOVE-SONG. 471 AD LYDEN. flores depereunt, Notus hie illic rapidis turbinibus leves pappos spargit, et abripit frondes queis viduat perfidus arbores. rara luget adhuc coma cum lugente nemus ; mox et honoribus his raptis Dryades gement. pulsis spuma maris pumicibus fremit, algas dilacerat Notus lentas ; vix radiis sol iuga, pallidus erro, vixque cubantia tangit rura, virens qua patet insula ; murmur quassat arundines, et per tesqua vagus maeror inhorruit. flores, nil moror, aridi et maestas iterent aequora naenias ; 472 DUBLIN TRANSLATIONS. The leaves and the surges May chant their wild dirges, The pale flowers pine. My heart at their voices More hugely rejoices ; One draught of Love's wine Unwinters the earth ! thou art mine, thou art mine ! Let the wind have its will And rave : I glow in its chill ! Thy kisses, warm clinging, My heart have set singing ; Autumn's at bay ! One rose blooms unmarr'd in My yew-cloistered garden — I'll pluck it to-day. And bid it go die in thy bosom, and say, With its passionate breath, ' Love greets thee— victor o'er death ! ' JOHN TODHUNTER. TODHUNTER—AN A UTUMN L O VE-SONG. 473 evoe ! corde salit meo sanguis, sola hiemis solvere vinculis terrain sola potes, Venus. ventus nunc igitur saeviat ; ut meam mentem recreet, hoc tuum est; Flaccum namque tuis muneribus beas. autumnum procul arceo cum Lyde calidis concitat osculis exultantia pectora. inter floret adhuc unica funebres taxos sera vigil rosa ; hanc decerpam hodie, marceat ut meae in Lydes tenero sinu, exspiransque animam dicat amabilem, ' hoc esto indicio tibi ipsa posse magis morte Cupidinem.' JOHN O. HYDE. 474 DUBLIN TRANSLATIONS. OENONE. ' O THOU hollow ship, that bearest Paris o'er the faithless deep, Would' St thou leave him on some island Where alone the waters weep ! Where no human foot is moulded In the wet and yellow sand — Leave him there, thou hollow vessel. Leave him on that lonely land ! Then his heart will surely soften. When his foolish hopes decay, And his older love rekindle As the new one dies away. Visionary hills will haunt him, Rising from the glassy sea. And his thoughts will wander homeward Unto Ida and to me ! ' AYTOUN—OENONE. 475 SVSTINET OENONEN DESERVISSE PARIS. ' navis, Priamidem per freta quae volas nobis abripiens perfida perfidum, qua solum mare plangit, ilium desere in insula ! ilium linque, precor, navis, inhospita terra ; linque, precor, nuUus ubi virum pes signarit arenas flavas, fluctibus uvidas ! tum corda incipient ferrea flectier, spes postquam fatuae deciderint ; amor antiquus revirescet, cum defloruerit novus. illi conscia mens finget imagines surgentum vitreo marmore montium ; Idae mox vaga colles Oenonenque petet suam.' 476 DUBLIN TRANSLATIONS. Thus lamented fair Oenone, Weeping ever, weeping low, On the holy mount of Ida, Where the pine and cypress grow. In the self-same hour Cassandra Shrieked her prophecy of woe, And into the Spartan dwelling Did the faithless Paris go. WHAT MATTER? We sat on the steps, for the evening was warm ; The scent of the hay-field crept up from the farm ; We spoke very softly — and as to his arm — It was just Cousin Jack — and so what was the harm ? We were quite in the dark, save the fire-flies' swarm ; A bird whirring out from the hedge broke the charm ; He bent, as I started in foolish alarm, And 'twas only old Jack, and so where was the harm ? ELEANOR PUTMAN. PUTMAN— WHA T MA TTER ? 477 Oenone teneris talia questibus flebat, perpetuis questibus, in sacra pinus quaque cupressus Ida consociant nemus : ast illo tonuit praescia cladium Cassandrae fera vox tempore : perfidus illo tecta subibat Spartanae Paris hospitae. T. J. B. BRADY. APOSIOPESIS. nos ambo cepit fugientes porticus aestum ; suave recens messos rus redolebat agros ; voce loquebamur submissa ; bracchia — sed quis sobrinis Paphiam credat inesse facem ? nox erat, interdum lucens lampyridis igni ; excita dat pennis sepe columba sonum ; territa subsedi ; caput hie admoverat ; — at quis sobrinis ullam credat inesse facem ? ROBERT Y. TYRRELL. 478 DUBLIN TRANSLATIONS. THE MEETING OF THE WATERS. There is not in the wide world a valley so sweet, As that vale in whose bosom the bright waters meet ; Oh ! the last rays of feeling and life must depart, Ere the bloom of that valley shall fade from my heart ! Yet it was not that Nature had shed o'er the scene Her purest of crystal and brightest of green ; 'Twas not the soft magic of streamlet or hill, Oh ! no — it was something more eji;quisite still. 'Twas that friends, the beloved of my bosom, were near. Who made ev'ry dear scene of enchantment more dear; And who felt how the best charms of nature improve, When we see them reflected from looks that we love. MOORE— THE MEETING OF THE WATERS. 479 AVOCA. ilia convalles mihi praeter omnes vallis arridet, gremio micantes quae fovet rivos. mihi vel suprema fugerit ipsi aura vitalis, gelidisque venis repserit sanguis tenuis, priusquam illius vallis memori exularit corde venustas ; non quod ornassent nemus omne Nymphae vitrea lympha viridique ripa, monsque cum rivo decus addidisset moUe viretis : suavius quoddam mihi amaeniores fecit has umbras ; aderant amati quels magis risit tua pulchritude, dulcis Avoca, 480 DUBLIN TRANSLATIONS. Sweet vale of Avoca ! how calm could I rest In thy bosom of shade, with the friends I love best, Where the storms that we feel in this cold world should cease, And our hearts, like thy waters, be mingled .in peace. CONSTANCY. By your truth she shall be true, Ever true, as wives of yore : And her ' Yes' once said to you Shall be ' Yes ' for evermore. E. B. BROWNING. BROWNING— CONSTANCY. 481 quod mihi risit simul. oh, libenter hoc sinu grato placidus foverer cum pio coetu comitum Catullus pace repostus. turn ferae longe fugient procellae quae brevem vitam lacerant, et, amnes ceu tibi, nobis sociata tandem corda quiescent ! JOHN MURRAY. ' CONCORDIA FATA DVORVM.' ilia quidem coniunx fido tibi fida manebit, laudatur qualis Penelopea fides ; cumque in verba semel iuraverit ilia mariti vox ea perpetui pignus amoris erit. T. J. B. BRADY. 482 DUBLIN TRANSLATIONS. GO UP AND WATCH THE NEW-BORN RILL. Go 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 fortell, 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, Nurses her store with thine to blend When many a moor and glen are past. Then in the wide sea end Their spotless lives at last ? KEBLE—GO UP AND WATCH THE NEW-BORN RILL. 483 FVTVRI TEMPORIS EXITVS. spectes petita fontis origine, destillet herba rivus ut uvida, montisque depingat genistas purpurei viridante filo. narrare cursus num potes arduos ? quae saxa rumpat ? quae saliat super ? salsumve mutarit salubri quatenus oceanum fluento ? fors in remotis praevalidi fluet munimen oris rivulus imperi, portabit hue illuc triremes, rege manu moderante clavum. num scis locorum Nais ubi altera aequalis urnam caeruleam prope noctuque procumbens dieque, subter arundineas latebras, opes aquosas condat, ut, avios emensa cursus, amne sororio commista, mox reddat marinis hausta fretis animam innocentem ? T. J. B. BRADY. 484 DUBLIN TRANSLATIONS. OH, WHO WOULD NOT REST WITH THE BRAVE ? Yes, let me like a soldier fall Upon some open plain, This breast expanding for the ball. To blot out every stain ! Brave manly hearts confer my doom, That gentler ones may tell, Howe'er forgot, unknown my tomb, I like a soldier fell. I only ask of that proud race Which ends its blaze in me. To die the last and not disgrace Its ancient chivalry. Though o'er my clay no banner wave. Nor trumpet requiem swell, Enough, they murmur o'er my grave — ' He like a soldier fell ! ' E. FITZBALL. FITZBALL—LEl ME LIKE A SOLDIER FALL. 485 SPECTANDVS IN CERTAMINE MARTIO. sit mihi, qua vacuo se pandunt aequore campi, ut decet armiferum non sine laude mori ! sic capiam laetus nudato pectore vulnus, sic scelerum purus vindice morte cadam ! quid si longa meum subeant oblivia bustum, exitium referent fortia corda mihi : et tenerae dicent submissa voce puellae — ' quo decet armiferos more perire perit ! ' quid si magnanimae peream spes ultima gentis ? quid si tota domus me pereunte mat ? felix sorte mea moriar si gloria patrum non erit exitio dedecorata meo. quamvis nulla meum decorent vexilla sepulcrum, nulla licet tristes det tuba rauca sonos — intumulata satis mihi si super ossa susurrent, ' quo decet armiferos more perire perit ! ' EDWARD SULUVAN. 486 DUBLIN TRANSLATIONS. LADY CLARA VERE DE VERE. Lady Clara Vere de Vere, Of me you shall not win renown : You thought to break a country heart For pastime, ere you went to town. At me you smiled, but unbeguiled I saw the snare, and I retired : The daughter of a hundred earls. You are not one to be desired. Lady Clara Vere de Vere, I know you proud to bear your name. Your pride is yet no mate for mine. Too proud to care from whence I came. Nor would I break, for your sweet sake, A heart that doats on truer charms, A simple maiden in her flower Is worth a hundred coats of arms. TENNYSON—LADY CLARA VERE DE VERE. 487 FASTVS INEST PVLCHRIS. lulia, non de me spoliis laudabere raptis ; lulia, clarorum nomine clara patrum : ruricolam ludens voluisti occidere telis Cypridis, urbanos mox aditura procos. ast ego perspexi vultus mendacia blandi, et reduci vito retia tensa gradu. sit genus a centum priscis tibi regibus ortum, est mulier nuUi talis amanda viro. lulia, sublimi tumeant tua pectora fastu, nomina dum iactas eximiumque genus ; sed magis elatos animos ego, lulia, iacto, cui genus haudquaquam referat unde traham. non moriar, fueris quia tu crudelis amanti ; nempe magis digno pectus amore calet. stemma tibi placeat, centumque insignia gentis ; me tenero simplex flore puella iuvat. 488 DUBLIN TRANSLATIONS. Lady Clara Vere de Vere, Some meeker pupil you must find, For were you queen of all that is, I could not stoop to such a mind. You sought to prove how I could love. And my disdain is my reply. The lion on your old stone gates Is not more cold to you than I. Lady Clara Vere de Vere, You put strange memories in my head. Not thrice your branching limes have blown Since I beheld young Lawrence dead. Oh ! your sweet eyes, your low replies : A great enchantress you may be ; But there was that across his throat Which you had hardly cared to see. Lady Clara Vere de Vere, When thus he met his mother's view, She had the passions of her kind. She spake some certain truths of you. Indeed I heard one bitter word That scarce is fit for you to hear ; Her manners had not that repose Which stamps the caste of Vere de Vere. TENNYSON—LADY CLARA VERB DE VERE. 489 lulia, discipuli tibi sunt aliunde petendi, qui facili leges mente subire velint ; nam licet Aethiopes, tibi pareat ultima Thule, sperneret indignum mens mea ferre iugum, quae caeca voluisti accendere pectora flamma, hoc audi : ' talis nunc mihi sordet amor' ; nil moveor durus ; non limina servat avita pectore marmoreo durior iste leo. heu ! me conturbas, crudelis, imagine dira, quae iactas gentis nomina clara tuae : nondum, ex quo iuvenem vidi Corydona peremptum, ramosae tiliae ter tibi flore virent. ah ! dulces oculi tibi sunt, blandique susurri, atque ars Circaea quae magis arte valet ; -signa tamen iugulo nonnulla impressa ferebat, mente parum laeta conspicienda tibi. WILLIAM H. KELLY. lulia, celsa domus cui sanguine fulget liili, sic positum iuvenem matris ad ora ferunt. femina, si quaeris, nee voci iraeque pepercit, nee timuit meritis te violasse probris. una etiam incautae vox excidit aspera linguae, auribus ilia quidem vix satis apta tuis ; non tegere afifectus poterat nee fingere vultum, sicut in Aeneae nata puella domo. 490 DUBLIN TRANSLATIONS. Lady Clara Vere de Vere, There stands a spectre in your hall : The guilt of blood is at your door : You changed a wholesome heart to gall. You held your course without remorse, To make him trust his modest worth : At last you fix'd a vacant stare, And slew him with your noble birth. Lady Clara Vere de Vere, From yon blue heavens above us bent The grand old gardener and his wife Smile at the claim of long descent. Howe'er it be, it seems to me 'Tis only noble to be good. Kind hearts are more than coronets. And simple faith than Norman blood. I know you, Clara Vere de Vere, You pine among your halls and towers : The languid light of your proud eyes Is weary of the rolling hours. In glowing health, with boundless wealth, But sickening of a vague disease, You know so ill to deal with time. Your needs must play such pranks as these. TENNYSON— LADY CLARA VERB DB VERB. 491 lulia, celsa domus cui sanguine fulget liili, incestat patrios umbra nefanda Lafes. quod sanum pectus vitio mutaveris, ultrix assidua pulsat limina Poena manu. te non paenituit vana spe ludere amantem, non 'meritis' timido dicere 'fide tuis,' frigora mox duri plorat despectus ocelli, at nimia occisus nobilitate perit. lulia, celsa domus cui sanguine fulget liili, scilicet aetheria despicit arce deum Deucalion, lapides vacuum qui iecit in orbem ; Deucalion magnos ridet et uxor avos. solus enim, dicant alii quaecunque, videtur ingenuus, cui sit mens generosa, mihi. effigie potiora patris bona pectora, sordet nobile prae fida simplicitate genus, te (bene enim novi), Teucrorum clara propago, soUicitam misere turris et aula tenent. languidiore tibi iam lumine fulget ocellus, et quereris longum tardius ire diem, scilicet ignota marcescis tabe peresa, dum solidae vires, dum cumulantur opes ; cogeris immitem sic ludere, lulia, ludum, fallere cessantes non bene docta dies. 492 DUBLIN TRANSLATIONS. Clara, Clara Vere de Vere, If time be heavy on your hands, Are there no beggars at your gate, Nor any poor about your lands ? Oh ! teach the orphan-boy to read. Or teach the orphan-girl to sew. Pray Heaven for a human heart, And let the foolish yeoman go. TENNYSON. SMILES AJ^D TEARS. You ask me, wondering, why I sing. And why my lips in laughter part ; The ripples of my mirth all spring From the deep sorrow at my heart. A smile is easier than the tear That serves to keep sad memories green, And always through what was I hear The echoes of what might have been. SMILES AND TEARS. 493 lulia, celsa domus cui sanguine fulget liili, si nimium lenta labitur hora fuga, respice mendicos ad limina, respice num sit squalidus in patriis unus et alter agris. cura sit orbatae dare lanea pensa puellae, discat et orbatus reddere verba puer, posce deos humana tibi dent corda, colatque rura miser, stulto liber amore, puer. JOHN DICKIE. AAKPTOEN TEAASASA. tu ne quaesieris sociem cur carmina chordis, et risus circum cur mea labra volet, ortum qui simulans ipso de flore leporum ex imo penitus fonte doloris habet. triste quidem risus, sed lacrima tristior aegri vulnera cum cordis scissa coire negant ; id neque adest menti fuerat quod amarius olim ; quod, si venisset, duke fuisset, adest. ROBERT y. TYRRELL. 494 DUBLIN TRANSLATIONS. LIFE'S FITFUL FEVER. 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 was an ocean-rest for thee. ' 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.' LORD HOUGHTON. HOUGHTON— LIFE'S FITFUL FEVER. 495 MORTE BEATIOR. nobilitate domus florens et laude pudoris omnia perdiderat posthabuitque viro ; iamque viro marcebat amor, nee fata puellae heu ! miserae dederant occubuisse prius. e seopulo solo solum qui prospieit aequor purpureum vidit praeeipitare iubar ; ' ah ! ubi flammato dabitur requieseere cordi,' dixit, ' ut Hesperiis sol requi^scit aquis ? sidera g-emmantes nectunt soeiata ehoreas, eonsciaque expeetat Luna subire viees ; mitibus at nunquam datur his splendescere flammis dempserit igniferis dum iuga Phoebus equis.' T. J. B. BRADY. 496 DUBLIN TRANSLATIONS. FLEBILIS ARBOR. \The English will he found on page 352.] sevit infaustam pia te propinqui in decus pagi manus : en ! sepultae vix eras annum dominae fugacem, pine, superstes ; nee tamen, quamvis pariter caduca, sorte gavisura pari ; vietae ramus arescit tibi, vernat illi fama perennis. SAMUEL ALLEN. o factum male ! quae, misella pinus, Lydes hie posita es manu tenella, ut ruri decus addereris, annus suffecit brevis unus abstulisse ; quae te severat annus abstulisse suffecit brevis ; at manet gemellas sors quam non parilis, pari ruina - quas mors consociavit ociore ! -= aret marcidulum, miselle trunce, honoris quod erat tui, sed illi laus vernat nova, luxque noctis expers o factum bene ! io beata Lyde ! ROBERT Y. TYRRELL. SHERIFF MUIR. 497 SHERIFF MUIR. They've lost some gallant gentlemen Among the Highland clans, man ; I fear my Lord Pan mure is slain Or fallen in Whiggish hands, man. Now wad ye sing this double fight, Some fell for wrong and some for right, But mony bade the world good night. Then ye may tell how pell and mell. By red claymores and muskets' knell, Wi' dying yell the Tories fell. And Whigs to Hell did flee, man. 2TEPN0N STEPNni. •no^oi " O/Aoioi dvecTcrovav TeXXts 'WafLaiOiS aXw. TV 8', era, rrjvS KcaTuWojv kKovov ovhdWov KoX Xe^ou irepl [Jiev cTKokLoiv irepl 8' €vd€Oiv ■TToXXovs TToXX' avhriv ')(aLp7jV avrocrveSiav 8' dXaXaTW ^iCaep7rovcr iyyvdev alev ttoctI Kov^oraToi^, ovSets o" vpvrjcr dcrira^o/iej/os TWi' puovcroTToXoiiv ; dXX' ow oS' ey&» pdXa Stj (t vpvb) Kol Trpecr/Sevct), KaC (T LKeTevo) povcrav eyeipcav, evT av dvdyKTj Kdp.ol 7r/)o<^ai'^s, 500 DUBLIN TRANSLATIONS. I bring thee a song that when thou must indei come, come unfalteringly. Approach strong Deliveress ! When it is so — when thou hast taken them, I jo; ously sing the dead. Lost in the loving, floating ocean of thee, Laved in the flood of thy bliss, O Death. WALT WHITMAN. A TARTAR. There once was a lady of Russia, Who scream' d so that no one could hush her; Her screams were extreme. You ne'er heard such a scream As was scream' d by this lady of Russia. LEAR— A TARTAR. 501 doKJ'ws auoKva ■7Tpo(jiavrjvaL. Bevp' Wb (Twretp' S [idy apiCTTrf Koi yap oTav Sr) OvrfTolari Trapy Kvpiov ^jjLap, crv 8e VLV KOiJiLcrrj<;, i^Sus detScw Toiis oi)(op.evov^' w fiaKap ocrns /card (TrjeL(p. eyve'i /xei/ OepLcrauTO Kev tis dpSpSiv cTTt^as at^/xaTav, iTrevxpfievos re <^voi Sd(f)va,^ KKdSov iv ^6va> viKa^opov, erepq) 8' dp.0LJ3av Sofiels diriTKr laav, yovvdrcov t iXvOrj XP^^'f> (rdevo's, ewT* dtjyvKTOv t,vybv (TTvyepov lLolpa.va<; yi.apdv6rf ^Xoepas Ipov crre^os, Ti ere Set juaratois reoi' Kjoaros epya ^ vfivrjcraL Xdyois; davoLTOv yap tus ficofjLov alfjjaToevTa /AOijoa irakivTpa.Trikoi Sa/iei? 6 Kavoxv KaTe)(p(ocrev i$ ireptov. TTOLV TOL KOLpa. TVfJij3oi' iKvieTaLi' TO TTpa^dev Si/caiws p.ovvov dvOea-L Kav 4<6vl veoL<; p,ijjn,KTai. A. E. JOYNT. noTTO nTP. Twpveov i<^it,ave.i XLfjurjpov 17817 /cXaSo^SJ uirai XeXtjvrji; /5eos (Tiyrikov rjkeKTpivov povpCov [lot TovvojJi avT€TTcavv[iov' [jLo^dctiv yap ovv XvTrrjpd klvSvvol t aKpoi Koi (fioCvLa crTakd.yp.aff, d-^vOiq irdrpas vpo SvcrxapCaTov, Tovvop 0)5 picrOov roSe v p.e irpovBaKev tis ov ; 'PdapTj? S' ifjiclvTO p iKKeKrjpv)(6aL ^oy SovXcoV dvayKy} 8' ovv pe arrjv i(f) ecrriav Tj^ rjyay, ovk av)(ovvTa, prj xjjevo'Orj?, fiCov vavpaLpove(i)v KaKov, w? ttot' 'A^iWevs, eia-opocov X/°o* koKop, oiry ei^-eie ju,aXicrra, T^ /5a Kara /cX.')jt8a tw^wi' fidXev' iK 8' apa -)(eipo<; TjpLTTev o^piyiov eyxos, o 8' vxpodev ■^vre irvpyo^ Siveuftjv SovirrjO'ev, in rjiXiov t a.Kap.a.vT0'=; KeiTO p-iyas peyaXaxTri' l3orj 8' dXtao-ros opapei papvapevcov aptj) avrov, o 8' ou iTToXepoLO pep7]X(o<; vvvov ^olXkcov euSe ■XeA.ao'ju.ei'os imrocrvvaiajv. J. I. BEARE. 516 DUBLIN TRANSLATIONS. CHORIAMBICS. Love, what ail'd thee, to leave life that was made lovely, we thought, with love ? What sweet visions of sleep lured thee away, down from the light above ? What strange faces of dreams, voices that call'd, hands that were raised to wave. Lured or led thee, alas, out of the suu, down to the sunless grave ? Ah, thy luminous eyes ! once was their light fed with the fire of day ; Now their shadowy lids cover them close, hush them and hide away. Ah, thy snow-colour' d hands ! once were they chains, mighty to bind me fast ; Now no blood in them burns, mindless of love, senseless of passion past. Ah, thy beautiful hair ! so was it once braided for me, for me ; Now for death it is crown' d, only for death, lover and lord of thee. SWINBURNE— CHORIAMBICS. 517 n TTMBOS a NTMiEION. oiy^a.1, Ti irdOovcr ; ovk eparos o"oi /Qios ^v epaCveT ovap ; rCq cr iKoiXrj ; tis X'^p' ecreie ; ti