f.^:, 
 
 
 S'S^Ps 
 
PR4539.D5.T7""""'"*"'"-"'"^ 
 ^'^Inmifi!?!™™,?,''*'"®' ancient and moder 
 
 3 1924 013 470 988 
 
Cornell University 
 Library 
 
 The original of tiiis book is in 
 tine Cornell University Library. 
 
 There are no known copyright restrictions in 
 the United States on the use of the text. 
 
 http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924013470988 
 
TRANSLATIONS. 
 
TRANSLATIONS 
 
 "^atmn, %mmt un)i "^atitxn. 
 
 NOT PUBLISHED. 
 
 LONDON : 
 FEINTED FOR HATCHAED & CO., 187 PICCADILLY. 
 
 MDCCX3LXn. 
 
 ^ ^ 
 
QA^SSbX 
 
 LONDON : 
 
 Stra'ngewatb & Walden, Printers, 
 Castle St. Leicester Sq. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 HOMEE— PAGE 
 
 Iliad. Book i 1 
 
 ^xcm i^t ITatin. > 
 
 HOEACE— 
 
 Od. I. 4 38 
 
 Od. I. 8 40 
 
 Od. I. ^ 42 
 
 Od. I. 11 46 
 
 Od. I. 24 ., 46 
 
 Od. I. 31 60 
 
 Od. n. 8 52 
 
 Od. n. 10 56 
 
 Od. II. 14 58 
 
 Od. III. 9 _ . . 64 
 
 Od. in. 13 68 
 
 Od, IV. 2 70 
 
 Od. IV. 7 78 
 
gtam il^e ITatitt. 
 
 CATULLUS— 
 
 Ad Sirmionem Penbtsulam 
 
 anonymous- 
 Epitaph ON A Young Lady 
 
 THE MARQUIS OF WELLESLEY- 
 Epitaph on Himself 
 
 PAOE 
 
 82 
 86 
 88 
 
 MILLEVOYE 
 
 (from t^f Jwtitl^. 
 
 92 
 
 gtam t^e |tslian. 
 
 METASTASIO— 
 La Paetenza 
 
 FILIOAIA— 
 
 All' Italia : Son. i. 
 
 Son. II. 
 
 Son. III. 
 
 Son. IV. 
 
 Son. v. 
 
 Son. VI. 
 Alla Liberia Perduia 
 
 DiSPRBZZO BELLA GLORIA TERRENA 
 
 Villeggiatuea di Prima vera . 
 
 100 
 
 108 
 110 
 112 
 114 
 116 
 118 
 120 
 122 
 124 
 
dram t^t Italian. 
 MANZONI- 
 
 II Odstqub di Maggio 126 
 
 ^tam t^t §iitmm, 
 SCHILLER— 
 
 Die iDKiLE 140 
 
 WiJEDE DEE FRiUBN 152 
 
 EriTEE TOGGENBURG 160 
 
 Hero dnd Lbaudbr 170 
 
 SpRiJcHB DBS Confucius .... 200 
 
 HOEPNUNG 202 
 
 — Ne@«^!S'§^^N — 
 
TO THE 
 
 EARL STANHOPE. 
 
 My dear Stanhope, 
 
 I hold you mainly responsible for the appearance of 
 this volume. It certainly never would have seen the light, 
 but for the favourable opinion you were kind enough to 
 pronounce upon the attempt which I — in common with 
 many others — had made, to infuse into an almost literal 
 English version of a portion of the Iliad something of the 
 spirit, as well as the simplicity, of the great original. 
 
 Encouraged by your approval, and by your suggestion 
 that by privately printing a few copies I might give pleasure 
 to my friends, I have looked over, and made a selection 
 from, a number of other Translations from various authors. 
 
ancient and modern — executed at lengthened intervals 
 extending over a period of more than forty years — and I 
 have been gratified by your assurance that you did not 
 consider them unworthy of appearing in print. 
 
 A Translator can aspire to no higher praise than the 
 very humble one of faithfully rendering, not only the 
 language, but the tone and manner, of his Author; and, 
 as subsidiary to this object, it will be seen that in most 
 of the following translations, I have either followed the 
 metre of the original, or adopted one as nearly analogous 
 to it as was consistent with the genius of the respective 
 languages. 
 
 I will not enter into the controversy which is raging, 
 as to the most suitable metre for an English version of 
 Homer, farther than to express my individual conviction, 
 that, if justice is ever to be done to the easy flow and 
 majestic simplicity of the grand old Poet, it can only be 
 in the heroic blank verse; which, however, by no means 
 
excludes the occasional, though sparing, use of the hendeca- 
 
 syllablej as in Milton, 
 
 " With all his host 
 Of rebel Angels, by whose aid aspiring 
 To set himself in glory above his peers.'' 
 
 And again, 
 
 "The gracious signs of sweet remorse, 
 And pious awe, that fear'd to have offended." 
 
 Whatever may be the merits, or the defects, of these 
 Translations, I offer them, with sincere diffidence, not to 
 the ordeal of public criticism, but to the indulgent accept- 
 ance of personal friends ; among whom I am proud to 
 enrol, and to be allowed to inscribe on my opening page, 
 a name so known and honoured as that of Stanhope. 
 
 Believe me. 
 
 Very sincerely yours, 
 
 DERBY. 
 
 St. James's Square, 
 a^, 1862. 
 
Page 86, " The Epitaph on a Young Lady " is by Bishop Lowth, and 
 may still be seen on a tombstone at Cuddesdon. 
 
 „ 133, line 6,/or " breast," read " heart." 
 
1 Ju 1 A, JJn 
 
 ^mm 
 
 BOOK I. 
 
 i~\P Peleus' son, Achilles, sing, Muse, 
 
 The vengeance, deep and deadly j whence to Greece 
 Unnumber'd ills arose ; which many a soul 
 Of mighty warriors to the viewless shades 
 Untimely sent ; they on the battle plain 5 
 
 XJnburied lay, a prey to rav'ning dogs, 
 And carrion birds ; but so had Heav'n decreed. 
 From that sad day when first in wordy war. 
 The mighty Agamemnon, king of men. 
 Confronted stood by Peleus' godlike son. lo 
 
 Say then, what God the fatal strife provok'd? 
 Jove's.and Latona's son ; he, fiU'd with wrath 
 Against the king, with deadly pestilence 
 The camp afflicted, — and the people died,— 
 For Chryses' sake, his priest, whom Atreus' son 1 5 
 
 1 B 
 
With scorn dismiss' d, when to the Grecian ships 
 
 He came, his captive daughter to redeem, 
 
 With costly ransom charg'd ; and in his band 
 
 The sacred fillet of his God he bore, 
 
 And golden staff; to all he sued, but chief 20 
 
 To Atreus' sons, twin captains of the host : 
 
 "Ye sons of Atreus, and ye well-greav'd Greeks, 
 
 May the great Gods, who on Olympus dwell. 
 
 Grant you yon hostile city to destroy, 
 
 And home return in safety ; but my child 25 
 
 Restore, I pray ; her proffer'd ransom take, 
 
 And in his priest, the Lord of Light revere." 
 
 Then through the ranks assenting murmurs ran. 
 The priest to rev'rence, and the ransom take : 
 Not so Atrides ; he, with haughty mien, 30 
 
 And bitter speech, the trembling sire address'd : 
 " Old man, I warn thee, that beside our ships 
 I find thee not, or ling'ring now, or back 
 Returning ; lest thou prove of small avail 
 Thy golden staff, and fillet of thy God. 35 
 
 Her I release not, till her youth be fled ; 
 
 2 
 
|M. §00li I 
 
 Within my walls, in Argos, far from home. 
 
 Her lot is cast, domestic cares to ply, 
 
 And share a master's bed. For thee, begone ! 
 
 Incense me not, lest ill betide thee now." 40 
 
 He said : the old man trembled, and obey'd ; 
 Beside the many-dashing Ocean's shore 
 Silent he passed ; and all apart, he pray'd 
 To great Apollo, fair Latona's son : 
 
 " Hear me, God of the silver bow ! whose care 45 
 
 Chrysa surrounds, and Cilia's lovely isle ; 
 Whose soVreign sway o'er Tenedos extends ; 
 
 Smintheus, hear ! if e'er my offer'd gifts 
 Found favour in thy sight; if e'er to thee 
 
 1 burn'd the fat of bulls and choicest goats, so 
 Grant me this boon — upon the Grecian host 
 
 Let thine unerring darts avenge my tears." 
 Thus as he pray'd, his pray'r Apollo heard : 
 
 Along Olympus' heights he pass'd, his heart 
 
 Burning with wrath ; behind his shoulders hung 55 
 
 His bow, and ample quiver ; at his back 
 
 Rattled the fateful arrows as he mov'd ; 
 3 
 
Like the night-cloud he pass'd ; and from afar 
 
 He bent against the ships, and sped the bolt ; 
 
 And fierce and deadly twang'd the silver bow. 60 
 
 First on the mules and dogs, on man the last. 
 
 Was pour'd the arrowy storm ; and through the camp. 
 
 Constant and num'rous, blaz'd the funeral fires. 
 
 Nine days the heav'nly Archer on the troops 
 Hurl'd his dread shafts ; the tenth, th' assembled Greeks 65 
 Achilles call'd to council ; so inspir'd 
 By Juno, white-arm'd goddess, who beheld 
 "With pitying eyes, the wasting hosts of Greece. 
 "When all were met, and closely throng'd around, 
 Rose the swift-footed chief, and thus began : 70 
 
 " Ye sons of Atreus, to my mind there seems. 
 If we would 'scape from death, one only course. 
 Home to retrace our steps : since here at once 
 By war and pestilence onr forces waste. 
 But seek we first some prophet, or some priest, 75 
 
 Or some wise vision- seer (since visions too 
 From Heav'n are sent), who may the cause explain. 
 Which with such deadly wrath Apollo fires. 
 
If for neglected hecatombs or pray'rs 
 
 He blame us ; or if fat of lambs and goats 80 
 
 May soothe his anger and the plague assuage/'' 
 
 This said, he sat ; and Thestor's son arose, 
 Calchas, the chief of seers, to whom were known 
 The present, and the future, and the past ; 
 "Who, by his mystic art, Apollo's gift, 85 
 
 Guided to Ilion's shore the Grecian fleet. 
 Who thus with cautious speech replied, and said : 
 " Achilles, lov'd of Heav'n, thou bidst me say 
 Why thus incens'd the far-destroying King : 
 Therefore I speak ; but promise thou, and swear, 90 
 
 By word and hand, to bear me harmless through. 
 For well I know my speech must one offend. 
 One mighty chief, whom all our hosts obey ; 
 And terrible to men of low estate 
 
 The anger of a king ; for though awhile 95 
 
 He veil his wrath, yet in his bosom pent 
 It still is nurst, until the time arrive ; 
 Say, then, wilt thou protect me, if I speak?" 
 
 Him answer'd thus Achilles, swift of foot : 
 
 5 
 
" Speak boldly out whate'er thine art can tell; lOO 
 
 For by Apollo's self I swear, whom thou, 
 
 Calchas, serv'st, and who thy words inspires, 
 
 That, while I live, and see the light of heav'n. 
 
 Not one of all the Greeks shall dare on thee. 
 
 Beside our ships, injurious hands to lay : 105 
 
 No, not if Agamemnon's self were he. 
 
 Who 'mid our warriors boasts the foremost place." 
 
 Embolden'd thus, th' unerring prophet spoke : 
 " Not for neglected hecatombs or pray'rs. 
 But for his priest, whom Agamemnon scorn' d, lio 
 
 Nor took his ransom, nor his child restored ; 
 On his account the Far-destroyer sends 
 This scourge of pestilence, and yet will send ; 
 Nor shall we cease his heavy hand to feel. 
 Till to her sire we give the dark-ey'd girl, 115 
 
 Unbought, unransom'd, and to Chrysa's Isle 
 A solemn hecatomb despatch ; this done. 
 We may at length the angry God appease." 
 
 This said, he sat ; and Atreus' godlike son. 
 The mighty monarch, Agamemnon, rose, 120 
 
 6 
 
MM. iff0Ji I 
 
 His dark soul fili'd with fury, and his eyes 
 Flashing like flames of fire ; on Calchas first 
 A with'ring glance he cast, and thus he spoke : 
 
 " Prophet of ill ! thou never speak' st to me 
 But words of evil omen; for thy soul 125 
 
 Delights to augur ill, but aught of good 
 Thou never yet hast promised, nor perform' d. 
 And now among the Greeks thou spread' st abroad 
 Thy lying prophecies, that all these ills 
 Come from the Far-destroyer, for that I 1 30 
 
 Refus'd the ransom of my lovely prize, 
 And that I rather chose herself to keep. 
 To me not less than Clytemnestra dear. 
 My virgin-wedded wife ; nor less adorn'd 
 In gifts of form, of feature, or of mind. 135 
 
 Yet, if it must be so, I give her back ; 
 I wish my people's safety, not their death. 
 But seek me out forthwith some other spoil. 
 Lest empty-handed I alone appear 
 
 Of all the Greeks J for this would ill beseem j 140 
 
 And how I lose my present share, ye see." 
 
 7 
 
To whom Achilles, swift of foot, replied : 
 " Haughtiest of men, and greediest of the prey ! 
 How shall our valiant Greeks for thee seek out 
 Some other spoil ? no common fund have we 145 
 
 Of hoarded treasures ; what our arms have won 
 From captur'd towns, has been already shar'd. 
 Nor can we now resume th' apportion'd spoil. 
 Restore the maid, obedient to the God ! 
 And if Heav'n will that we the strong-built walls 150 
 
 Of Troy should rase, our warriors will to thee 
 A threefold, fourfold recompense assign/^ 
 
 To whom great Agamemnon thus replied : 
 " Think not, Achilles, valiant though thou art 
 In fight, and godlike, to defraud me thus; 155 
 
 I am not one to be prevail'd on so. 
 Think'st thou to keep thy portion of the spoil. 
 While I with empty hands sit humbly down ? 
 The dark-ey'd girl thou bidst me to restore ; 
 If then the valiant Greeks for me seek out 160 
 
 Some other spoil, some compensation just, 
 'Tis well : if not, I with my own right hand 
 
 8 
 
%M. i00lt I 
 
 Will from some other chief, from thee perchance. 
 
 Or Ajax, or Ulysses, wrest his prey ; 
 
 And woe to him, on whomsoever I call ! 165 
 
 But this for future counsel we remit : 
 
 Haste we then now our dark-ribVd bark to launch. 
 
 Muster a fitting crew, and place on board 
 
 The sacred hecatomb ; then last embark 
 
 The fair Chryseis j and in chief command 170 
 
 Let some one of our councillors be plac'd, 
 
 Ajax, Ulysses, or Idomeneus, 
 
 Or thou, the most ambitious of them all. 
 
 That so our rites may soothe the angry God." 
 
 To whom Achilles thus with scornful glance : 175 
 
 " Oh, cloth'd in shamelessness ! oh, sordid soul ! 
 How canst thou hope that any Greek for thee 
 Will brave the toils of travel or of war ? 
 Well dost thou know that 'twas no feud of mine 
 With Troy's brave sons that brought me here in arms ; 180 
 They never did me wrong ; they never drove 
 My cattle, or my horses ; never sought 
 In Phthia's fertile, life-sustaining fields 
 
 9 
 
To waste the crops ; for wide between us lay 
 The shadowy mountains and the roaring sea. 185 
 
 With thee^ void of shame ! with thee we sail'd, 
 For Menelaus and for thee, ingrate. 
 Glory and fame on Trojan crests to win. 
 All this hast thou forgotten, or despis'd ; 
 And threat'nest now to wrest from me the prize 190 
 
 I labour'd hard to win, and Greeks bestow'd. 
 Nor does my portion ever equal thine. 
 When on some populous town our troops have made 
 Successful war; in the contentious fight 
 The larger portion of the toil is mine; 195 
 
 But when the day of distribution comes. 
 Thine is the richest spoil ; while I, forsooth. 
 Must be too well content to bear on board 
 Some paltry prize for aU my warlike toil. 
 To Phthia now I go ; so better far, 200 
 
 To steer my homeward course, and leave thee here 
 Dishonour'd as thou art, nor like, I deem. 
 To fill thy coffers with the spoils of war." 
 Whom answer'd Agamemnon, king of men : 
 
 10 
 
|M. %mki 
 
 " FljTj then, if such thy mind ! I ask thee not 205 
 
 On mine account to stay ; others there are 
 
 Will guard my honour, and avenge my cause : 
 
 And chief of all, the Lord of counsel, Jove ! 
 
 Of all the heav'n-bom kings, thou art the man 
 
 I hate the most ; for thou delight'st in nought 210 
 
 But war and strife : thy prowess I admit ; 
 
 Yet this, remember, is the gift of Heav'n. 
 
 Return, then, with thy vessels, if thou wilt. 
 
 And with thy followers, home ; and lord it there 
 
 Over thy Myrmidons ! I heed thee not ! 215 
 
 I care not for thy fury ! Hear my threat : 
 
 Since Phoebus wrests Chryseis from my arms. 
 
 In mine own ship, and with mine own good crew, 
 
 Her I send forth ; and, in her stead, I mean, 
 
 Ev'n from thy tent, myself, to bear thy prize, 220 
 
 The fair Briseis ; that henceforth thou know 
 
 How far I am thy master ; and that, taught 
 
 By thine example, others too may fear 
 
 To rival me, and brave me to my face." 
 
 Thus, while he spake, Achilles chaPd with rage ; 225 
 
 11 
 
To waste the crops ; for wide between us lay 
 
 The shadowy mountains and the roaring sea. 185 
 
 With theCj void of shame ! with thee we sail'd, 
 
 For Menelaus and for thee, ingrate. 
 
 Glory and fame on Trojan crests to win. 
 
 All this hast thou forgotten, or despis'd ; 
 
 And threat'nest now to wrest from me the prize 190 
 
 I labour'd hard to win, and Greeks bestow'd. 
 
 Nor does my portion ever equal thine. 
 
 When on some populous town our troops have made 
 
 Successful war; in the contentious fight 
 
 The larger portion of the toil is mine; 195 
 
 But when the day of distribution comes. 
 
 Thine is the richest spoil; while I, forsooth. 
 
 Must be too well content to bear on board 
 
 Some paltry prize for all my warlike toil. 
 
 To Phthia now I go ; so better far, 200 
 
 To steer my homeward course, and leave thee here 
 
 Dishonour'd as thou art, nor like, I deem. 
 
 To fill thy cofiers with the spoils of war." 
 
 Whom answer'd Agamemnon, king of men : 
 
 10 
 
|M. §00H. 
 
 " riyj then, if such thy mind ! I ask thee not 205 
 
 On mine account to stay ; others there are 
 
 Will guard my honour, and avenge my cause : 
 
 And chief of all^ the Lord of counsel, Jove ! 
 
 Of all the heav'n-bom kings, thou art the man 
 
 I hate the most j for thou delight'st in nought 210 
 
 But war and strife : thy prowess I admit ; 
 
 Yet thisj remember, is the gift of Heav'n. 
 
 Return, then, with thy vessels, if thou wilt. 
 
 And with thy followers, home ; and lord it there 
 
 Over thy Myrmidons ! I heed thee not ! 215 
 
 I care not for thy fury ! Hear my threat : 
 
 Since Phoebus wrests Chryseis from my arms. 
 
 In mine own ship, and with mine own good crew, 
 
 Her I send forth } and, in her stead, I mean, 
 
 Ev'n from thy tent, myself, to bear thy prize, 220 
 
 The fair Briseis ; that henceforth thou know 
 
 How far I am thy master ; and that, taught 
 
 By thine example, others too may fear 
 
 To rival me, and brave me to my face." 
 
 Thus, while he spake, Achilles chaf'd with rage ; 225 
 
 11 
 
And in his manly breast his heart was torn 
 
 With thoughts conflicting — whether from his side 
 
 To draw his mighty sword, and put to rout 
 
 Th' assembled throng, and kill th' insulting king ; 
 
 Or school his soul, and keep his anger down. 230 
 
 But while in mind and spirit thus he mus^d. 
 
 And half unsheath'd his sword, from heav'n came down 
 
 Minerva, sent by Juno, white-arm'd queen. 
 
 Who both the chiefs with equal interest view'd. 
 
 She stood behind, and by the yellow hair 235 
 
 She held the son of Peleus, visible 
 
 To him alone, by all the rest unseen. 
 
 Achilles, wond'ring, turn'd, and straight he knew 
 
 The blue-ey^d Pallas ; awful was her glance. 
 
 And thus the chief his winged words addressed : 240 
 
 " Why com'st thou, child of segis-bearing Jove ? 
 To see the arrogance of Atreus' son ? 
 But for this insolence, I say and think. 
 He soon may pay the forfeit of his life." 
 
 To whom the blue-ey'd goddess thus replied : 245 
 
 " From heav'n I came, to curb, if thou wilt hear, 
 
 12 
 
pa&. UMlt I 
 
 Thy fury ; sent by Juno, white-arm^d queen, 
 
 Who both of you with equal int'rest views. 
 
 Cease, then, these broils, and draw not thus thy sword ; 
 
 In words, indeed, assail him as thou wilt. 250 
 
 But this I promise, and will make it good. 
 
 The time shall come, when for this insolence 
 
 A threefold compensation shall be thine, — 
 
 Only be sway'd by me, and curb thy wrath." 
 
 Whom answer'd thus Achilles, swift of foot : 255 
 
 " Goddess, I needs must yield to your commands, 
 Indignant though I be — for so 'tis best; 
 Who hears the Gods, of them his pray'rs are heard." 
 
 He said ; and on the silver hilt he stay'd 
 His pow'rful hand, and £ung his mighty sword 260 
 
 Back to its scabbard, to Minerva's word 
 Obedient : she her heav'nward course pursued 
 To join th' Immortals in the abode of Jove. 
 But Peleus' son, with undiminish'd wrath, 
 Atrides thus with bitter words address'd : 265 
 
 " Thou sot, with eye of dog, and heart of deer ! 
 Who never dar'st to lead in armed fight 
 
 13 
 
Th' assembled host, nor with a chosen few 
 To man the secret ambush — for thou fear'st 
 To look on death — no doubt 'tis easier far, 270 
 
 Girt with thy troops, to plunder of his right 
 Whoe'er may venture to oppose thy will ! 
 A tyrant king, because thou rul'st o'er slaves ! 
 Were it not so, this insult were thy last. 
 But this I say, and with an oath confirm, 275 
 
 By this my royal staff, which never more 
 Shall put forth leaf nor spray, since first it left 
 Upon the mountain-side its parent stem, 
 Nor blossom more ; since all around the steel 
 Hath lopt both leaf and bark, and now 'tis borne 280 
 
 Emblem of justice, by the sons of Greece, 
 Who guard the sacred ministry of law 
 Before the face of Jove ! a mighty oath ! 
 The time shall come, when all the sons of Greece 
 Shall mourn Achilles' loss ; and thou the while, 285 
 
 Heart-rent, shalt be all-impotent to aid. 
 When by the warrior-slayer Hector's hand 
 Many shall fall ; and then thy soul shall mourn 
 14 
 
The slight on Grecia's bravest warrior cast." 
 
 Thus spoke Pelides ; and upon the ground 290 
 
 He cast his staff, with golden studs emboss''d. 
 And took his seat ; on th' other side, in wrath, 
 Atrides burn'd; but Nestor interpos'd, — 
 Nestor, the leader of the Pylian host. 
 
 The smooth-tongued chief, from whose persuasive lips 295 
 Sweeter than honey flow'd the stream of speech. 
 Two generations of the sons of men 
 For him were past and gone, who with himself 
 Were bom and bred on Pylos' lovely strand. 
 And o'er the third he now held royal sway. — 300 
 
 He thus with cautious words the chiefs addressed : 
 
 " Alas, alas ! what grief is this for Greece ! 
 What joy for Priam, and for Priam's sons ! 
 ^Vhaft exultation for the men of Troy, 
 
 To hear of feuds 'tween you, of all the Greeks 305 
 
 The first in counsel, and the first in fight ! 
 Yet, heat my words, I pray ; in years, at least, 
 Ye both must yield to me ; and in times past 
 I liv'd with men, and they despis'd me not, 
 
 15 
 
Abler in counsel^ greater than yourselves. 310 
 
 Such men I never saw, and ne'er shall see, 
 As Pirithous and Dryas, shepherd king, 
 Coeneus, Exadius, godlike Polypheme, 
 And Theseus, ^geus' more than mortal son. 
 The mightiest they among the sons of men ; 315 
 
 The mightiest they, and of the forest beasts 
 Strove with the mightiest, and their rage subdued. 
 With them from distant lands, from Pylos' shore 
 I join'd my forces, and their call obey'd ; 
 With them I play'd my part ; with them, not one 320 
 
 Would dare to fight, of mortals now on earth. 
 Yet they my counsels heard, my voice obey'd ; 
 And hear ye also, for my words are wise. 
 Nor thou, though great thou be, attempt to rob 
 Achilles of his prize, but let him keep 325 
 
 The spoil assign'd him by the sons of Greece j 
 Nor thou, Pelides, with the monarch strive 
 In rivalry ; for ne'er to sceptred king 
 Hath Jove such pow'rs, as to Atrides, giv'n ; 
 And valiant though thou art, and Goddess-born, 330 
 
 16 
 
pair, i^Mt I 
 
 Yet mightier he, for wider is his sway. 
 Atrides, curb thy wrath ! while I beseech 
 Achilles to forbear ; in whom the Greeks 
 From adverse war their great defender see." 
 
 To whom the monarch, Agamemnon, thus : 335 
 
 " father, full of wisdom are thy words ; 
 But this proud chief o'er all would domineer ; 
 O'er all he seeks to rule, o'er all to reign. 
 To all to dictate — which I will not bear. 
 Grant that the Gods have giv'n him warlike might, 340 
 
 Gave they unbridled license to his tongue 1" 
 
 To whom Achilles, interrupting, thus : 
 " Coward and slave indeed I might be deem'd. 
 Could I submit to make thy word my law ; 
 To others thy commands ; seek not to me 345 
 
 To dictate, for I follow thee no more. 
 But hear me speak, and ponder what I say : 
 For the fair girl I fight not (since you choose 
 To take away the prize yourselves bestow' d) 
 With thee or any one j but of the rest 350 
 
 My dark swift ship contains, against my will 
 
 17 c 
 
On naught shalt thou, unpunish'd, lay thy hand. 
 Make trial if thou wilt, that these may know ; 
 Thy life-blood soon should reek upon my spear." 
 
 After this conflict keen of angry speech, 355 
 
 The chiefs arose, and broke the council up. 
 
 With his own followers, and Mensetius' son, 
 Achilles to his tents and ships withdrew. 
 But Atreus' son launched a swift-sailing bark, 
 With twenty rowers mann'd, and plac'd on board 360 
 
 The sacred hecatomb ; then last embarkM 
 The fair Chryseis, and in chief command 
 The wise Ulysses, sage in counsel, plac'd. 
 They swiftly sped along the liquid way. 
 
 Next, proclamation through the camp was made -365 
 
 To purify the host ; and in the sea, 
 Obedient to the word, they purified. 
 Then to Apollo solemn rites perform'd 
 With faultless hecatombs of bulls and goats. 
 Upon the margin of the watery waste ; 370 
 
 And wreathM in smoke the savour rose to heav'n. 
 
 The camp thus occupied, the King pursued 
 
His threaten'd plan of vengeance ; to his side 
 
 Calling Talthibius and Eurybates, 
 
 Heralds, and faithful followers, thus he spoke : 375 
 
 " Haste to Achilles' tent, and in your hand 
 Back with you thence the fair Briseis bring : 
 If he refuse to send her, I myself 
 With a sufficient force will bear her thence, 
 Which he may find, perchance, the worse for him." 380 
 
 So spake the monarch, and with stern command 
 Dismissed them ; with reluctant steps they pass'd 
 Along the margin of the watery waste. 
 Till to the tents and ships they came, where lay 
 The warlike Myrmidons. Their chief they found 385 
 
 Sitting beside his tent and dark-ribb'd ship. 
 Achilles mark'd their coming, not well pleas'd : 
 With troubled mien, and awe-struck by the King, 
 They stood, nor dar'd accost him; but himself 
 Divin'd their errand, and addressed them thus : 390 
 
 " Welcome, ye messengers of Gods and men, 
 ^Heralds ! approach in safety j not with you. 
 But with Atrides, is my just offence, 
 
 19 
 
Who for the fair Briseis sends you here. 
 
 Goj then, Patroclus, bring the maiden forth, 395 
 
 And give her to their hands ; but witness ye. 
 
 Before the blessed Gods and mortal men. 
 
 And to the face of that injurious king. 
 
 When he shall need my arm, from shameful rout 
 
 To save his followers ; blinded by his rage, 400 
 
 He neither heeds experience of the past. 
 
 Nor for the future calculates, how best 
 
 To guard his fleet and army from the foe." 
 
 He spoke : obedient to his friend and chief, 
 Patroclus led the fair Briseis forth, 405 
 
 And gave her to their hands ; they to the ships 
 Retrac'd their steps, and with them the fair girl 
 Reluctant went : meanwhile Achilles, plung'd 
 In bitter grief, from all the band apart. 
 Upon the margin of the hoary sea 4i0 
 
 Sat idly gazing on the dark-blue waves ; 
 And to his Goddess-mother long he pray'd. 
 With outstretched hands, " Oh, mother ! since thy son 
 To early death by destiny was doom'd, 
 
 20 
 
MHA '§ask i 
 
 I might have hop'd the Thunderer on high, 415 
 
 Olympian Jove, with honour would have crown'd 
 My little space ; but now disgrace is mine ; 
 Since Agamemnon, the wide-ruling king, . 
 Hath wrested from me, and still holds, my prize." 
 
 "Weeping, he spoke ; his Goddess-mother heard, 420 
 
 Beside her aged father where she sat 
 In the deep ocean-caves : ascepding quick 
 Through the dark waves, like to a misty cloud. 
 Beside her son she stood ; and as he wept. 
 She gently touched him with her hand, and said, 425 
 
 "Why weeps my son ? and whence his cause of grief? 
 Speak out, that I may hear, and share thy pain." 
 
 To whom Achilles, swift of foot, replied. 
 Groaning, " Thou know'st ; what boots to tell thee all ? 
 On Thebes we march' d, Eetion's sacred town, 430 
 
 And storm'd the walls, and hither bore the spoil. 
 The spoils were fairly by the sons of Greece 
 Apportion'd out ; and to Atrides' share 
 The dark-ey'd daughter of old Chryses fell, 
 Chryses, Apollo's priest, to free his child, 435 
 
 21 
 
Came to th' encampment of the steel-clad Greeks, 
 
 With costly ransom charg'd ; and in his hand 
 
 The sacred fillet of his God he bore. 
 
 And golden stafi'; to all he sued, hut chief 
 
 To Atreus' sons, twin captains of the host. 44o 
 
 Then through the ranks assenting murmurs ran, 
 
 The priest to rev'rence, and the ransom take : 
 
 Not so Atrides ; he, with haughty mien 
 
 And hitter words, the trembling sire dismiss'd. 
 
 The old man turn'd in sorrow ; but his pray'r 445 
 
 Phoebus Apollo heard, who lov'd him well. 
 
 Against the Greeks he bent his fatal bow. 
 
 And fast the people fell ; on ev'ry side 
 
 Throughout the camp the heav'nly arrows flew ; 
 
 A skilful seer at length the cause reveal'd 450 
 
 Which thus incen&''d the archer-God; I then. 
 
 The first, gave counsel to appease his wrath. 
 
 Whereat Atrides, full of fury, rose. 
 
 And utter'd threats, which he hath now fulfillM. 
 
 For Chryses^ daughter to her native isle 455 
 
 In a swift-sailing ship the black-ey'd Greeks 
 
 22 
 
pan. iMli I 
 
 Have sentj with costly offerings to the God : 
 But her, assign'd me by the sons of Greece, 
 Brises' fair daughter, from my tent e'en now 
 The heralds bear away. Then, Goddess, thou, 460 
 
 If thou hast pow'r, protect thy injur'd son. 
 Fly to Olympus, to the feet of Jove, 
 And make thy pray'r to him, if on his heart 
 Thou hast in truth, by word or deed, a claim. 
 For I remember, in my father's house, 465 
 
 I oft have heard thee boast, how thou, alone 
 Of all th' Immortals, Saturn's cloud-girt son 
 Didst shield from foul disgrace, when all the rest, 
 Juno, and Neptune, and Minerva join'd. 
 With chains to bind him ; then, Goddess, thou 470 
 
 Didst set him free, invoking to his aid 
 Him of the hundred arms — whom Briareus 
 Th' immortal Gods, and men Mgeon call. 
 He, mightier than his father, took his seat 
 By Saturn's son, exulting in his strength : 475 
 
 Fear seiz'd on all the Gods, nor did they dare 
 To bind their King : of this remind him now, 
 23 
 
And clasp his knees, and supplicate his aid 
 
 For Troy's brave warriors, that the routed Greeks 
 
 Back to their ships with slaughter may be driv'n ; 480 
 
 That all may taste the foUy of their King, 
 
 And Agamemnon's haughty self may mourn 
 
 The slight on Grecia's bravest warrior cast." 
 
 Thus he ; and Thetis, weeping, thus replied : 
 " Alas, my child, that e'er I gave thee birth ! 485 
 
 Would that beside thy ships thou couldst remain 
 From grief exempt, and insult ! since by fate 
 Few years are thine, and not a lengthen'd term ; 
 At once to early death and sorrows doom'd 
 Beyond the lot of man ! in evil hour 490 
 
 I gave thee birth ! But to the snow-clad heights 
 Of great Olympus, to the throne of Jove, 
 Who wields the thunder, thy complaints I bear. 
 Thou by thy ships, meanwhile, against the Greeks 
 Thine anger nurse, and from the fight abstain. 495 
 
 For Jove is to a solemn banquet gone 
 Beyond the sea, on Ethiopia's shore. 
 Since yesternight j and with him all the Gods. 
 
 24 
 
|M. iMkl 
 
 On the twelfth day he purpos'd to return 
 
 To high Olympus ; thither then will I, 500 
 
 And at his feet my supplication make ; 
 
 And he, I thint, will not deny my suit." 
 
 This said, she disappeared; and left him there 
 Musing in anger on the lovely form 
 
 Torn from his arms hy violence away. 505 
 
 Meantime, Ulysses, with his sacred freight, 
 Arriv'd at Chrysa's isle ; and when his bark 
 Had reach'd the shelter of the deep sea bay. 
 Their sails they furl'd, and lower'd to the hold ; 
 Slacked the retaining shrouds, and quickly struck 5io 
 
 And stow'd away the mast ; then with their sweeps 
 PuU'd for the shore, and cast their anchors out. 
 And made her fast with cables to the strand. 
 Then on the shingly breakwater themselves 
 They landed, and the sacred hecatomb 515 
 
 To great Apollo ; and Chryseis last. 
 Her to the altai' straight Ulysses led. 
 The wise in counsel ; in her father's hand 
 He plac'd the maiden, and address'd him thus : 
 
 25 
 
" ChryseSj from Agamemnon^ king of men, 520 
 
 To thee I come^ thy daughter to restore ; 
 
 And to thy God, upon the Greeks' behalf. 
 
 To offer sacrifice, if haply so 
 
 We may appease his wrath, who now incens'd 
 
 With grievous suff'ring visits all our host." 525 
 
 Then to her sire he gave her j he with joy 
 
 Received his child ; the sacred hecatomb 
 
 Around the well-built altar for the God 
 
 In order due they plac'd; their hands then wash'd 
 
 And the salt cake prepar'd, before them all 530 
 
 With hands uplifted Chryses pray'd aloud : 
 
 " Hear me, God of the silver bow ! whose care 
 Chrysa surrounds, and Cilia's lovely isle. 
 Whose sov'reign sway o'er Tenedos extends ! 
 Once hast thou heard my pray'r, aveng'd my cause, 535 
 
 And pour'd thy fury on the Grecian host. 
 Hear yet again, and grant what now I ask ; 
 Withdraw thy chast'ning hand, and stay the plague." 
 
 Thus, as he pray'd, his pray'r Apollo heard. 
 Their pray'rs concluded, and the salt cake strew'd 540 
 
 26 
 
IliaJr. §00^ i 
 
 Upon the victims' heads, they drew them hack, 
 
 And slew, and flay'd ; then cutting from the thighs 
 
 The choicest pieces, spread them o'er with fat 
 
 In double layers, and ahove them plac'd 
 
 The due meat-off 'rings ; then the aged priest 545 
 
 The cleft wood kindled, and libations pour'd 
 
 Of ruddy wine ; arm'd with the five-rfork'd prongs 
 
 Th' attendant ministers beside him stood. 
 
 The thighs consum'd with fire, the inward parts 
 
 They tasted first ; the rest upon the spits 550 
 
 Boasted with care, and from the fire withdrew. 
 
 Their labours ended, and the feast prepar'd, 
 
 They shar'd the social meal, nor lack'd there ought. 
 
 The rage of thirst and hunger satisfied,. 
 
 Th' attendant youths the flowing goblets crown'd, 555 
 
 And in fit order serv'd the cups to all. 
 
 AH day they sought the favour of the God, 
 
 The glorious pseans chanting, and the praise 
 
 Of Phoebus : he, well pleas' d, the strain receiv'd. 
 
 But when the sun was set, and shades of night 560 
 
 O'erspread the sky, upon the sandy beach 
 
 27 
 
Close to their ship they laid them down to rest. 
 
 And when the rosy-finger'd mom appeared. 
 
 Back to the camp they took their homeward way. 
 
 A fav'ring hreeze the Far-destroyer sent : 565 
 
 They stepp'd the mast, and spread the snowy sail : 
 
 Full in the midst the bellying sail receiv'd 
 
 The gallantbreeze j and round the vessel's prow 
 
 The dark waves loudly roar'd, as on she rush'd 
 
 Skimming the seas, and cut her watery way. 570 
 
 Arriv'd where lay the wide-spread host of Greece, 
 
 Their dark-ribb'd vessel on the beach they drew 
 
 High on the sand, and strongly shor'd her up ; 
 
 Then through the camp they took their sev'ral ways. 
 
 Meantime, beside the ships Achilles sat, 575 
 
 The Heav'n-born son of Peleus, swift of foot. 
 Chafing with rage repressed j no more he sought 
 The honour'd council, nor the battle-field ; 
 But wore his soul away, and inly pin'd 
 For the fierce joy and tumult of the fight. 580 
 
 But when the twelfth revolving day was come. 
 Back to Olympus' heights th' immortal Gods, 
 
 28 
 
Jove at their head, together all returned. 
 
 Then Thetis, mindful of her son's request. 
 
 Rose from the ocean wave, and sped in haste 585 
 
 To high Olympus, and the courts of Heav'n. 
 
 The broad-brow'd son of Saturn there she found 
 
 Sitting apart upon the topmost crest 
 
 Of many-ridg'd Olympus ; at his feet 
 
 She sat, ^d while her left hand clasp'd his knees, 590 
 
 Her right approach'd his beard, and suppliant thus 
 
 She made her pray'r to Saturn's royal son : 
 
 " Father, if e'er amid th' immortal Gods 
 By word or deed I did thee service true. 
 Hear now my pray'r ! Avenge my hapless son, 595 
 
 The shortest-liv'd of mortals, whom e'en now 
 Doth Agamemnon, king of men, insult, 
 And plunder of his lawful spoils of war. 
 But Jove, Olympian, Lord of counsel. Thou 
 Avenge his cause; and give to Trojan arms 600 
 
 Such strength and power that Greeks may learn how much 
 They need my son, and give him honour due." 
 
 She said : the Cloud-compeller answer'd not, 
 
 29 
 
But silent sat ; then Thetis clasp'd his knees : 
 
 And hung about him, and her suit renew'd : 605 
 
 "Give me thy promise true, thy gracious nod. 
 Or else refuse (for thou hast none to fear). 
 That I may learn, of all th' immortal Gods, 
 How far I stand the lowest in thine eyes." 
 
 Then, much disturb'd, the Cloud-compeller spoke: 61 o 
 " Sad work thou mak'st, in bidding me oppose 
 My will to Juno's, when her bitter words 
 Assail me ; for full oft with this reproach 
 She taunts me, that I aid the Trojan cause. 
 But thou return, that Juno see thee not, 615 
 
 And leave to me the furth'rance of thy suit. 
 Lo, to confirm thy faith, I nod my head ; 
 And well among th' immortal Gods is known 
 The solemn import of that pledge from me : 
 For ne'er my promise shall deceive, or fail, 620 
 
 Or be recalPd, if with a nod confirm'd." 
 
 He said, and nodded with his shadowy brows ; 
 Wav'd on th' immortal head th' ambrosial locks. 
 And all Olympus trembled at his nod. 
 
 30 
 
MM, iMlt l 
 
 They parted tlius ; from bright Olympus' heights 625 
 
 The Goddess hasted to her ocean-caves^ — ■ 
 
 Jove to his palace ; at his entrance all 
 
 Rose from their seats at once ; not one presum'd 
 
 To wait his coming, but advanc'd to meet. 
 
 Then on his throne he sat ; but not unmark'd 630 
 
 Of Juno's eye had been the council held 
 
 In secret with the silver-footed Queen, 
 
 The daughter of the aged Ocean-God; 
 
 And with sharp words she thus address'd her lord : 
 
 " Tell me, deceiver, who was ^he with whom 635 
 
 Thou late held'st council ? ever 'tis thy way 
 Apart from me to weave thy secret schemes. 
 Nor dost thou freely share with me thy mind." 
 
 To whom the Sii-e of Gods and men replied : 
 " Expect not, Juno, all my mind to know j 640 
 
 My wife thou art, yet would such knowledge be 
 Too much for thee ; whate'er I deem it fit 
 That thou shouldst know, nor God nor man shall hear 
 Before thee ; but what I in secret plan. 
 Seek not to know, nor curiously inquire." 645 
 
 31 
 
To whom replied the stag-ey'd Queen of Heav'n : 
 " What words, dread son of Saturn, dost thou speak ? 
 Ne'er have I sought, or now, or heretofore. 
 Thy secret thoughts to know ; what thou think'st fit 
 To tell, I wait thy gracious will to hear. 650 
 
 Yet fear I in my soul thou art beguil'd 
 By wiles of Thetis, silver-footed Queen, 
 The daughter of the aged Ocean-God ; 
 For she was with thee eai-ly, and embrac'd 
 Thy knees, and has, I think, thy promise sure, 655 
 
 Thou wilt avenge Achilles' cause, and bring 
 Destructive slaughter on the Grecian host." 
 
 To whom the Cloud-compeller thus replied : 
 " Presumptuous, to thy busy thoughts thou giv'st 
 Too free a range, and watchest all I do ; 660 
 
 Yet shalt thou not prevail, but rather thus 
 Be aliened from my heart — the worse for thee ! 
 If this be so, it is my sov'reign will. 
 But, now, keep silence, and my words obey. 
 Lest all th' Immortals fail, if I be wroth, 665 
 
 To rescue thee from my resistless hand." 
 
 32 
 
^Imk lff0lt i. 
 
 He said, and terror seiz'd the stag-ey'd Queen : 
 Silent she sat, curbing her spirit down. 
 And all the Gods in pitying sorrow mourned, 
 Vulcan, the skilled artificer, then first 670 
 
 Broke silence, and with soothing words addressed 
 His mother, Juno, white-arm'd Queen of Heav'n : 
 " Sad were't, indeed, and grievous to be borne. 
 If for the sake of mortal men you two 
 Should suffer angry passions to arise, 675 
 
 And kindle broils in Heav'n ; so should our feast 
 By evil influence all its sweetness lack. 
 Let me advise my mother (and I know 
 That her own reason wUl my words approve) 
 To speak my father fair ; lest he again 680 
 
 Reply in anger, and our banquet mar. 
 Nay, though Olympian Jove, the lightning's lord. 
 Should hurl us from our seats (for great his pow'r) 
 I yet should counsel gentle words, that so 
 We might propitiate best the King of Heav'n." 685 
 
 This said, he rose, and in his mother's hand 
 Placing the double goblet, thus he spoke > 
 
 33 D 
 
" Have patience^ mother mine ! though much enforc'd. 
 
 Restrain thy spirit, lest perchance these eyes. 
 
 Dear as thou art, hehold thee brought to shame ; 690 
 
 And I, though griev'd in heart, be impotent 
 
 To save thee ; for 'tis hard to strive with Jove. 
 
 When to thy succour once before I came, 
 
 He seiz'd me by the foot, and hurl'd me down 
 
 From HeavVs high threshold ; all the day I fell, 695 
 
 And with the setting sun, on Lemnos Isle 
 
 Lighted, scarce half-alive; there was I found. 
 
 And by the Sintian people kindly nurst/' 
 
 Thus as he spoke, the white-arm'd Goddess smil'd. 
 And, smiling, from his hand, receiv'd the cup. 700 
 
 Then to th' Immortals all, in order due. 
 He minister' d, and from the flagon pour'd 
 The luscious nectar ; while among the Gods 
 Rose laughter irrepressible, at sight 
 Of Vulcan hobbling round the spacious hall. 705 
 
 Thus they till sunset pass'd the festive hours ; 
 Nor lack'd the banquet aught to please the sense, 
 Nor sound of tuneful lyre, by Phoebus touch'd, 
 
 34 
 
Nor Muses' voice, who in alternate strains 
 
 Responsive sang: but when the sun had set, 71 o 
 
 Each to his home departed, where for each 
 
 The crippled Vulcan, matchless architect. 
 
 With wondrous skill a noble house had rear'd. 
 
 To his own couch, where he was wont of old, 
 When overcome by gentle sleep, to rest, 715 
 
 Olympian Jove ascended ; there he slept. 
 And, by his side, the golden-thronfed Queen. 717 
 
 --^■Si1tSS'^Sf&k,^i)'=;r~ 
 
 35 
 
FEOM THE LATIN. 
 
HORACI. 
 
 m. i L 
 
 Q OLVITUE acris laiems grata vice veris et Favoni, 
 
 Trahuntque siccas machiiiBe carinas; 
 Ac neque jam stabulis gaudet pecus, aut arator igni ; 
 
 Nee prata canis albicaut pruinis. 
 Jam Cytherea chores ducit Venus imminente Luna ; 5 
 
 Junctseque Nymphis Gratiae decentes 
 Alterno terram quatiunt pede ; dum graves Cyclopum 
 
 Vulcanus ardens urit officinas. 
 Nunc decet aut viridi nitidum caput impedire myrto, 
 
 Aut flore, terrae quem ferunt solutse. lo 
 
 Nunc et in umbrosis Fauno decet immolare lucisj 
 
 Seu poscat agna, sive malit hsedo. 
 PalKda mors aequo pulsat pede pauperum tabernas^ 
 
 Regumque turres. beate Sexti, 
 38 
 
H R AC jSk 
 
 I L L 
 
 CJTERN Winter melts as genial airs the balmy Spring restore, 
 
 And keels, long dry, are carried to the shore ; 
 The ploughman now the fireside leaves, nor herds in stalls remain. 
 
 Nor hoar-frost glitters o'er the whitened plain ; 
 And Venus now by moonlight leads her revelry and mirth, 5 
 
 And Nymphs, with Graces mingling, make the earth 
 Ring with the music of their feet ; while with his Cyclops train, 
 
 At swelt'ring forge, stout Vulcan toils amain. 
 Our glossy hair should now with wreaths of myrtle green be found. 
 
 Or flow'rs new-burst from out the loosen'd ground. lo 
 
 And now the wonted sacrifice, beneath the forest's shade. 
 
 Of lamb or kid, to Faunus should be paid. 
 Pale Death upon the peasant's door and prince's lordly gate 
 
 Impartial knocks. Sextius, rich and great ! 
 39 
 
Vitse summa brevis spem nos vetat inchoare longam. 15 
 
 Jam te premet nox, fabulseque manes, 
 Et domus exilis Plutonia; quo simulmearis, 
 
 Nee regna vini sortiere talis ; 
 Nee tenerum Lycidam miraberSj quo calet juventus 
 
 Nunc omnis, et mox virgines tepebunt. 20 
 
 m. 1 8. 
 
 Lydia die, per omnes 
 Te deos ore, Sybarin cur properes amando 
 
 Perdere ? cur apricum 
 Oderit campum, patiens pulveris atque solis ? 
 
 Cur neque militaris 
 Inter sequales equitatj Gallica nee lupatis 
 
 Temperat ora frsenis ? 
 Cur timet flavum Tiberim tangere ? cur olivum 
 
 40 
 
Our life's short span should moderate our lengthen'd hope's excess j 
 Night and unreal ghosts shall round thee press 16 
 
 Ere long, and vainly wouldst thou hope, in Pluto's drear domain. 
 By lot the banquet's sceptre to obtain ; 
 
 Or * * * * * 
 
 ***** 
 
 m. 1 8. 
 
 Lydia, by all the Gods above. 
 Why Sybaris destroy with fatal love ? 
 
 Why now the Campus does he shun. 
 Unshrinking once from dust and scorching sun ? 
 
 Why now no more, in martial pride, 5 
 
 Among his youthful comrades does he ride. 
 
 Curbing his fiery Gallic horse ? 
 Why fear with active limb to stem the force 
 
 Of yellow Tiber's swollen flood ? 
 Why, with abhorrence as of viper's blood, 10 
 
 41 
 
Sanguine viperino 
 Cautius vitat? neque jam livida gestat armis lo 
 
 Bractiaj ssepe disco, 
 Ssepe trans finem jaculo nobilis expedite ? 
 
 Quid latet, ut marinse 
 Pilium dicunt Thetidis sub lacrimosa Trojse 
 
 Funeraj ne virilis 15 
 
 Cultus in csedem at Lycias proriperet catervas ? 
 
 (Bh I 9. 
 
 ViDESj ut alta stet nive candidum 
 Soracte, nee jam sustineant onus 
 SilvBe laboranteSj geluque 
 Flumina constiterint acuto. 
 
 Dissolve frigus, ligna super foco 
 Large reponens : atque benignius 
 Deprome quadrimum Sabina, 
 Tbaliarche, merum dicta. 
 
 42 
 
The lubricating oil refuse ? 
 Why does the galling steel no longer bruise 
 
 Those arms, which oft the discus round 
 Or javelin hurl'd. beyond th' extremest bound ? 
 
 Why lurks he now, as erst, they say, is 
 
 When near approach'd proud Ilion's fatal day. 
 
 The son of Thetis lurk'd, amid 
 The train of virgins, ignominious, hid, 
 
 Lest, by his manly garb betray' d. 
 The toils of war should claim the seeming maid ? 20 
 
 m. 1 9. 
 
 Make how upon Soracte's he*^ 
 
 The snow lies deep ; how laboring woods 
 
 Beneath th' unwonted burthen bow ; 
 
 How stay their course th' imprison'd floods. 
 
 Pile, Thaliarchus, pile on high 
 The blazing. logs, and mock at cold : 
 This gen'rous flagon freely ply 
 Of Sabine vintage four years old. 
 
 43 
 
Permitte divis csetera; qui simul 
 Stravere ventos sequore fervido 10 
 
 Deproeliantes j nee cupressi. 
 Nee veteres agitantur orni. 
 
 Quid sit futurum eras, fuge quserere ; et 
 Quern sors dierum cunque dabit, lucro 
 
 Appone; nee dulees amores 15 
 
 Sperne puer, neque tu choreas. 
 
 Donee virenti canities abest 
 Morosa. Nunc et campus, et arese, 
 Lenesque sub noctem susurri 
 
 Composita repetantur bora : 20 
 
 Nunc et latentis proditor intimo 
 Gratus puellse risus ab angulo, 
 Pignusque dereptum lacertis 
 Aut digito male pertinaci. 
 
 44 
 
Leave to the Gods all else : when they 
 Compose the warring winds and seas, lo 
 
 The cypress bough, the ashen spray. 
 No longer quiver in the breeze. 
 
 Think for the morrow nought ; enjoy 
 Each day the boons bestowM by chance ; 
 Nor rudely spurn, too happy boy, 15 
 
 Or love's delights, or joyous dance, 
 
 While crabbed age is far away. 
 
 Now manly sports beseem thy years, 
 
 And whispers soft, at close of day. 
 
 How sweetly breath'd in willing ears ! 20 
 
 And tell-tale laugh of merry maid 
 In comer hid ; and slender wrist 
 Of bracelet spoiled, or ring convey'd 
 From fingers that but half resist. 
 
 45 
 
m, 1 11. 
 
 Tu ne qusesieris, scire nefas, quem mihi^ quern tibi 
 Finem Di dederint, Leuconoe ; nee Babylonios 
 Tentaris numeros. Ut melius, quicquid erit, pati ! 
 Seu plures hiemes, seu tribuit Jupiter ultimam, 
 Quse nunc oppositis debilitat pumicibus mare 
 Tyrrhenum. Sapias, vina liques, et spatio brevi 
 Spam longam reseces. Dum loquimur, fugerit invida 
 MtsLS ; carpe diem, quam minimum credula postero. 
 
 m, 1 24. 
 
 Quis desiderio sit pudor aut modus 
 Tam cari capitis ? Prsecipe lugubres 
 Cantus, Melpomene, cui liquidam pater 
 Vocem cum citbara dedit. 
 46 
 
m. i 11. 
 
 Seek not, Leuconoe, (^tis sinful) to explore 
 What term of life for thee or me may he in store. 
 Nor tempt Chaldean myst'ries ! wiser far, whatever 
 Our future fate may send, with cheerful mind to bear. 
 Whether long years be ours, or this may be the last, 5 
 
 Which hears the Tuscan waves, driv'n by the wintry blast 
 Break on th' opposing rocks. Be wise; pour forth the wine; 
 Within our narrow span thy wand'ring hopes confine : 
 Ev'n while we speak, our years are slipping fast away ; 
 Trust not th' uncertain future, grasp the fleeting day. lo 
 
 m. 1 24. 
 
 What bounds to grief for loss of one so dear 
 Shall reason fix ? the mournful verse inspire, 
 Melpomene, whose accents, soft and clear. 
 Suit well the tuneful lyre. 
 
 47 
 
Ergo Quinctilram perpetuus sopor 5 
 
 Urguet ! cui Pudor^ et Justitiae soror 
 Incorrupta Fides, nudaque Veritas 
 Quando ullum invenient parem ? 
 
 Multis ille bonis flebilis occidit ; 
 Nulli flebilior quam tibij Virgili. lO 
 
 Tu frustra pius, heu ! non ita creditum 
 Poscis Quinctilium decs. 
 
 Quod si Threicio blandius Orpheo 
 Auditam moderere arboribus fidem ; 
 Non vanse redeat sanguis iraagini, 15 
 
 Quam virga semel horrida, 
 
 Non lenis precibus fata recludere, 
 Nigro compulerit Mercurius gregi. 
 Durum ! sed levius fit patientia, 
 
 Quicquid corrigere est nefas. 20 
 
 48 
 
And does Quinctilius sleep in endless death ? 5 
 
 Oh, where, for modest worth and truthful mind. 
 And, twin with Justice, uncorrupted Faith, 
 Shall we his equal find ? 
 
 For him shall many a good man's tears be giv'n : 
 And none shall bitt'rer weep, than, Virgil, thou ; lo 
 Who for thy lov'd Quinctilius weariest Heav'n 
 With unavailing vow. 
 
 No, not thy strains, though sweet as those of yore 
 With which the list'ning forests Orpheus led, 
 To that cold corpse the life-blood can restore, 15 
 
 Which, with his wand of dread, 
 
 Mercurius, deaf to sounds of human grief. 
 Hath summoned to the grisly band below : 
 'Tis hard ; yet Patience may afford relief 
 
 Where none can ward the blow ! 20 
 
 49 
 
m, i 31. 
 
 Quid dedicatum poscit ApoUinem 
 Vates ? quid orat, de patera novum 
 Fundens liquorem ? Non opimas 
 Sardinise segetes feracis ; 
 
 Non sestuosse grata Calabrise 
 Armenta ; non aurum, aut ebur Indicutn ; 
 Non rura, quae Liris quieta 
 
 Mordet aqua, tacitumus amnis. 
 
 Premant Galena falce, quibus dedit 
 Fortuna, vitem j dives et aureis lo 
 
 Mercator exsiccet culuUis 
 Vina Syra reparata merce, 
 
 50 
 
m, i 31. 
 
 With what petition at the shrine 
 
 Of Phoebus shall the Bard appear ? 
 
 And, as he pours the sacred wine, 
 
 What pray'r shall reach his Patron's ear ? 
 
 He asks not, he, the golden grain 5 
 
 That waves o'er rich Sardinia's plain. 
 
 Nor flocks, nor herds, that wander o'er 
 
 Calabria's sultry mountains steep : 
 
 Nor wealthy India's golden store. 
 
 Nor ivory, nor pastures deep, lo 
 
 Whose mould'ring soil, from day to day. 
 
 Smooth, silent Liris wears away. 
 
 Let those who Fortune's favours gain. 
 
 Prune the rank growth of Gales' vines ; 
 
 Let the rich merchant freely drain 15 
 
 From golden goblets costly wines. 
 
 The prizes of his prosp'rous trade. 
 
 By Syrian merchandize repaid. 
 
 51 
 
Dis carus ipsis ; quippe ter et quater 
 Anno revisens sequor Atlanticum 
 
 Impune. Me pascant olivse, 15 
 
 Me cichorea levesque malvse. 
 
 Frui paratis et valido mihi, 
 Latoe, dones, et, precor, Integra 
 Cum mente; nee turpem senectam 
 
 Degere, nee cithara carentem. 20 
 
 m, xi 8, 
 
 Ulla si juris tibi pejerati 
 Pcena, Barine, nocuisset unquam j 
 Dente si nigro fieres, vel uno 
 Turpior ungui, 
 
 52 
 
He to the Gods must sure be dear, 
 
 Whose daring vessels scatheless brave, 20 
 
 Or thrice or more, within the year, 
 
 The perils of th' Atlantic wave. 
 
 For me be still with olives storM, 
 
 And cooling herbs, my frugal, board. 
 
 Though small it be, my share of wealth 25 
 
 Grant me to enjoy ; and, that I may, 
 
 Phoebus, add the boon of health ; 
 
 A mind uninjur'd by decay, 
 
 A green old age, with honour blessed. 
 
 And of my lyre not dispossessed. 30 
 
 m, XL 8. 
 
 Baeine, did not peij'ries fail 
 To leave on thee one angry trace j 
 If one discoloured tooth, one nail 
 Less perfect, marr'd thy wondrous grace, 
 53 
 
"-^mtt 
 
 Crederem : sed tu, simul obligasti 
 
 5 
 
 Perfidum votis caput, enitescis 
 
 
 Pulcbrior multo, juvenumque prodis 
 
 
 Publica cura. 
 
 
 Expedit matris cineres opertos 
 
 
 Fallere, et toto taciturna noctis 
 
 10 
 
 Signa cum coelo, gelid aque divos 
 
 
 Morte carentes. 
 
 
 Ridet hoc, inquam, Venus ipsa, rident 
 
 
 Simplices Nymphse, ferus et Cupido 
 
 
 Semper ardentes acuens sagittas 
 
 15 
 
 Cote cruenta. 
 
 
 Adde quod pubes tibi crescit omnis ; 
 
 
 Servitus crescit nova ; nee priores 
 
 
 Impise tectum dominse relinquunt. 
 
 
 Ssepe minati. 
 
 20 
 
 Te suis matres metuunt juvencis, 
 
 
 Te senes parci, miserseque nuper 
 
 
 Virgines nuptse, tua ne retardet 
 
 
 Aura maritos. 
 
 
 54 
 
 
I might believe ; but with each vow 5 
 
 Thou heap'st on thy perfidious head. 
 More radiant beams thy glorious brow. 
 And wider still thy conquests spread. 
 
 'Tis gainful, o'er a mother's urn 
 
 T' invoke, with false and perjur'd breath, lo 
 
 The silent stars that nightly burn. 
 
 The Gods above who know not death. 
 
 Laughs at such fraud the Cyprian Queen j 
 Laugh the kind Nymphs in gamesome mood; 
 And Cupid, who his arrows keen is 
 
 Sharpens on whetstone stain'd with blood. 
 
 The rising race thy fetters wear ; 
 Fresh bands of slaves embrace their chain ; 
 And, though their bonds they oft forswear, 
 Thy former lovers still remain. 20 
 
 Thee for their sons grave matrons shun. 
 And cautious sires ; and brides, new-made, 
 Fear, lest by thine enchantments won. 
 Their husbands' homeward steps be stay'd. 
 55 
 
iJr. a 10. 
 
 Rectitjs vives^ Licini, neque altum 
 Semper urguendo ; neque, dum procellas 
 Cautus horrescisj nimium premendo 
 Littus iniquum. 
 
 Auream quisquis mediocritatem 5 
 
 Diligitj tutus caret obsoleti 
 Sordibus tecti, caret invidenda 
 Sobrius aula. 
 
 Ssepius ventis agitatur ingens 
 Pinus; et celsse graviore casu 10 
 
 Decidunt turres ; feriuntque summos 
 Fulgura montes. 
 
 Sperat infestis, metuit secundis 
 Alteram sortem bene prseparatum 
 Pectus. Informes hiemes reducit 15 
 
 Jupiter, idem 
 
 56 
 
m. a 10. 
 
 WouLDST thou, Licinius, safely steer, 
 Tempt not too far th' uncertain deep : 
 Nor, while the storm you wisely fear. 
 The treacherous shore too closely keep. 
 
 Who loves of life the golden mean, 5 
 
 Escapes ahke the squalid cell. 
 And turmoils, that too oft are seen 
 In greatness' envied halls to dwell. 
 
 The giant pine-trees most invite 
 The stormy winds ; with heaviest crash lo 
 
 Fall proudest tow'rs ; the mountain height 
 The first attracts the lightning's flash. 
 
 The balanc'd mind, in weal or woe 
 Alike for fortune's change prepares ; 
 And he, who sends the winter's snow, 15 
 
 Himself that winter's loss repairs. 
 57 
 
Summovet. Non, si male nunCj et olim 
 Sic erit. Quondam cithara tacentem 
 Suscitat Musanij neque semper arcum 
 
 Tendit Apollo. 20 
 
 Rebus angustis animosus atque 
 Fortis appare ; sapienter iderti 
 Contrahes vento nimium secundo 
 Turgida vela. 
 
 m, a 14. 
 
 Eheu ! fugaces, Postume, Postume, 
 Labuntur anni ; nee pietas moram 
 Rugis et instanti senectse 
 Afferet, indomitseque morti. 
 58 
 
If hard tLy lot, 'twill sometime mend : 
 
 Not Phoebus self unchanged remains. 
 
 But ceases now his bow to bend. 
 
 Now wakes the slumbering Muses' strains. 20 
 
 Boldly to adverse fate oppose 
 A manly courage ; when the gale 
 With too propitious favour blows. 
 Contract in time thy- pondw i t saU. 
 
 m, ii 14. 
 
 Alas, my Posthumus, alas ! 
 The fleeting years too quickly pass. 
 And none may stay their course ; 
 Nor purest life may respite seek 
 From wrinkled age, and furrow' d cheek. 
 And death's resistless force. 
 59 
 
Non, si trecenis, quotquot eunt dies, 
 Amice, places illacrimabilem 
 Plutona tauris ; qui ter amplum 
 GeryoncD Tityonque tristi 
 
 Compescit unda, scilifcet omnibus, 
 Quicunque terrse munere vescimur, lO 
 
 Enaviganda, sive reges 
 Sive inopes erimus coloni. 
 
 Frustra cruento Marte carebimus, 
 Fractisque rauci fluctibus Adrise ; 
 
 Frustra per auctumnos nocentem 15 
 
 Corporibus metuemus Austrum : 
 
 60 
 
Three hundred bullocks, daily slain. 
 Would seek to mitigate in vain 
 
 Th' inexorable King; 
 Whose drear dominion Tityus holds, lo 
 
 And Geryon's giant bulk enfolds 
 
 Within the wat'ry ring 
 
 Of that sad flood, which all, whoe'er 
 Draw here the breath of vital air, 
 
 Must cross, whate'er their lot, 15 
 
 Whether be theirs on earth to shine 
 In kingly palaces, or pine 
 
 In peasant's lowly cot. 
 
 In vain from war's alarms we run ; 
 
 In vain of Adria's billows shun 20 
 
 The hoarse and broken flood ; 
 In vain we dread the subtle death 
 AVTierewith the south wind's pois'nous breath 
 In Autumn taints the blood. 
 61 
 
Visendus ater flumine languido 
 
 Cocytos errans, et Dauai genus 
 
 Infame, damnatusque longi 
 
 Sisyphus jEolides laboris. 2o 
 
 Linquenda tellus, et domuSj et placens 
 Uxor.; neque harum, quas colis, arborum 
 Te, prseter invisas cupressos, 
 
 Ulla brevem dominum sequetur,. 
 
 Absumet hseres Csecuba dignior 25 
 
 Servata centum clavibus ; et mero 
 Tinguet pavimentum superbo 
 Pontificum potiore coenis. 
 
 62 
 
We all must see Cocytus flow 25 
 
 With sullen current, black and slow ; 
 
 And Danaus' hateful brood ; 
 And Sisyphus, condemn'd by fate 
 His mortal crimes to expiate 
 
 By labours still renewed. 30 
 
 Thy land, thy house, thy pleasing wife. 
 Must all be left with parting life : 
 
 The cypress, tree of gloom. 
 Alone, of all thou lov^st to tend. 
 Shall on its short-liv'd lord attend, 35 
 
 And wave above thy tomb. 
 
 Thy cellars, guarded with such care 
 By hundred locks, thy lavish heir 
 
 Shall ransack of their hoard ; 
 And wine thy marble floors shall drown 40 
 
 More rich than e'er was seen to crown 
 
 A pontiff's splendid board. 
 
 63 
 
#lr. tii 9. 
 
 Hob. 
 
 DoNEC gratus eram tibi, 
 
 Nee quisquam potior brachia eandidse 
 Cervici juvenis dabat ; 
 
 Persaram vigui rege beatior. 
 
 Lyd. 
 
 Donee non alia magis 5 
 
 Arsisti, neque erat Lydia post Chloen ; 
 
 Multi Lydia iiominis 
 
 Romana vigui clarior Ilia. 
 
 Hob. 
 
 Me nunc Cressa Cbloe regit, 
 
 Dulces docta modes, et citharse sciensj lo 
 Pro qua non metuam mori, 
 
 Si parcent animse fata superstiti. 
 64 
 
(©Jr. ra. 9. 
 
 HoR. While I was dear to thee. 
 
 While with encircling arms 
 No youth, preferr'd to me, 
 Dar'd to profane thy bosom's snowy charms ; 
 
 I envied not, by thee ador'd, 5 
 
 The wealth, the bliss of Persia's lord. 
 
 Lyd. While all thy bosom glow'd 
 
 With love for me alone. 
 And Lydia there abode. 
 Where Chloe now has fix'd her hateful throne ; lo 
 Well pleas'd, our Roman Ilia's fame 
 I deem'd eclips'd by Lydia's name. 
 
 HoK. 'Tis true, my captive heart 
 
 The fair-hair' d Chloe sways. 
 Skill' d with transcendent art 15 
 
 To touch the lyre, and breathe harmonious lays ; 
 For her my life were gladly paid. 
 So Heav'n would spare my Cretan maid. 
 
 65 F 
 
Lyd. 
 Me torret face mutua 
 
 Thurini Calais filius Ornyti ; 
 Pro quo bis patiar mori, 15 
 
 Si parcent puero fata superstiti. 
 
 HoR. 
 Quid ? si prisca redit Venus. 
 
 Diductosque jugo cogit aheneo ? 
 Si flava excutitur Chloe, 
 
 Rejectseque patet janua Lydise ? 20 
 
 Lyd. 
 
 Quamquam sidere pulchrior 
 
 Ille est, tu levior cortice, et improbo 
 
 Iraeundior Adria ; 
 
 Tecum vivere amem, tecum obeam libens. 
 
 66 
 
m, in, 9. 
 
 Lyd. 
 
 My breast with fond desire 
 
 
 
 For youthful Calais burns ; 
 
 20 
 
 
 Touch'd with a mutual fire 
 
 
 The 
 
 son of Ornithus my love returns ; 
 For him I 'd doubly die with joy, 
 So Heav'n would spare my Thurian boy. 
 
 
 Hoa. 
 
 What if the former chain. 
 That we too rashly broke, 
 We yet should weave again. 
 
 25 
 
 And bow once more beneath th' accustom 'd yoke ? 
 
 
 
 If Chloe's sway no more I own, 
 
 
 
 And Lydia fill the vacant throne ? 
 
 30 
 
 Ltd. 
 
 Though bright as Morning Star 
 My Calais' beaming brow ; 
 Though more inconstant far, 
 
 
 And 
 
 easier chaf 'd than Adria's billows thou. 
 
 
 
 With thee my life I 'd gladly spend. 
 
 35 
 
 [This 
 having pai 
 translation 
 
 Content with thee that life to end. 
 
 sworth, 
 assical 
 
 de has already appeared in print, my friend, Lord Eaven 
 i me the compliment of adopting it in his able and c 
 of the whole of the Odes of Horace.— D.] 
 
 67 
 
 
 
m, iii. 13. 
 
 PONS Bandusise, splendi^ior vitro, 
 Dulci digne mero, non sine floribus, 
 Cras donaberis hsedo, 
 
 Cui frons turgida cornibus 
 
 Primis et Venerem et proelia destinat, 5 
 
 Frustra ; nam gelidos inficiet tibi 
 Rubro sanguine rivos 
 Lascivi soboles gregis. 
 
 Te flagrantis atrox hora Canicnlse 
 Nescit tangere : tu frigus amabile 1 
 
 Fessis vomere tauris 
 Prsebes, et pecori vago. 
 
 Fies nobilium tu quoque fontium, 
 Me dicente cavis impositam ilicem 
 
 Saxis, unde loquaces 15 
 
 Lymphse desiliunt tuse. 
 
 68 
 
€!3. ill 13, 
 
 Bandxjsia, purest fount, as crystal bright, 
 Well worthy floral wreaths and festal rite. 
 
 To thee shall bleed, to-morrow mom, 
 
 A kid, whose newly budding horn 
 
 Gives hopes of future loves, and battle's shock ; 5 
 
 Vain hopes ! the scion of the wanton flock, 
 With the red tribute of his blood 
 Must stain thy cold and silv'ry flood. 
 
 Thou by the fiery Dog-Star's fiercest heat 
 
 Remain'st untouch'd ; thy shelt'ring cool retreat lo 
 
 Is welcome to th' o'er-labour'd ox, 
 Loos'd from the plough, and wand'ring flocks. 
 
 Nor shalt thou want, 'mid founts, an honour'd name ; 
 
 While I, thy bard, consign to future fame 
 
 The cavern'd rocks, with ilex crown' d, 15 
 
 Down which thy babbling waters bound. 
 
 69 
 
PiNDARUM quisquis studet semulari, I- 
 ulcj ceratis ope Dsedalea 
 Nititur pennisj vitreo daturus 
 Nomina ponto. 
 
 Monte decurrens velut amnis, imbres 5 
 
 Quem super notas aluere ripas, 
 Fervet immensusque ruit profando 
 Pindarus ore, 
 
 Laurea donandus Apollinari, 
 Seu per audaces nova Dithyrambos lo 
 
 Verba devolvit, numerisque fertur 
 Lege solutis ; 
 
 Seu deos, regesve canit, deorum 
 Sanguinem, per quos cecidere justa 
 Morte Centauri, cecidit tremendse is 
 
 Flamma ChimserEe; 
 
 70 
 
Who seeks to rival Pindar's fame 
 With waxen wings, Tulus, flies ; 
 To give, like Icarus, a name 
 To seas, where quenchM his folly lies. 
 
 As mountain torrents, swoll'n by rain, 5 
 
 O'erpass their banks, and boil along, 
 So Pindar, boundless, rolls amain 
 The deep-mouth'd volume of his song. 
 
 With Phoebus' laurel justly crown'd. 
 Whether in Dithyrambics free, lO 
 
 From trammels loos' d, with words new-found. 
 He pour his lawless harmony : 
 
 Whether of Gods, or kings, the seed 
 Of Gods, he sing, who gave to death. 
 Well-merited, the Centaur breed, 1 5 
 
 And quench'd Chimsera's fiery breath ; 
 71 
 
Sive, quos Elea domum reducit 
 Palma ccelestes, pugilemve equumve 
 Dicit, et centum potiore signis 
 
 Munere donat ; 20 
 
 Flebili sponsse juvenemve raptum 
 Plorat ; et vires animumque mores- 
 que aureos educit in astra, nigro- 
 que invidet Oreo. 
 
 Multa Dircseum levat aura cycnnnij 25 
 
 Tenditj Antoni, quoties in altos 
 Nubium traetus : egOj apis Matinse 
 More modoque 
 
 Grata carpentis thyma per laborem 
 Plurimumj circa nemus uvidique 30 
 
 Tiburis ripas operosa parvus 
 Carmina fingo. 
 
 72 
 
Or honour with a richer meed 
 
 Than all the sculptor's art could trace, 
 
 The pugilist, or victor steed. 
 
 Triumphant in th' Elean race ; 20 
 
 Or with the widow'd hride condole, 
 Reft of her lord in manhood's bloom. 
 Extol his grace, his heart, his soul. 
 And rescue from th' oblivious tomb. 
 
 Riding the gale on pinions proud, 25 
 
 The Swan of Dirce soars above- 
 The vast expanse of storm and cloud ; 
 While, like the bee, round Tibur's grove 
 
 And banks of mossy verdure, I, 
 
 Toiling 'mid beds of fragrant thyme, 30 
 
 My little labours ceaseless ply. 
 
 And build with pain my humble rhyme. 
 
 73 
 
Concines majore Poeta plectro 
 CBesarem, quandoque trahet feroces 
 Per Sacrum clivum, merita decorus 35 
 
 Fronde, Sicambros; 
 
 Quo nihil majus meliusve terris 
 
 Fata donavere bonique divi, 
 
 Nee dabunt, quamvis redeant in aurum 
 
 Tempora priscum. 40 
 
 Concines Icetosque dies, et urbis 
 Publicum ludum, super impetrato 
 Portis Augusti reditu, forumque 
 Litibus orbum. 
 
 Tum mese (si quid loquar audiendum) 45 
 
 Vocis accedet bona pars ; et, o Sol 
 Pulcher, o laudande, canam recepto 
 Csesare felis. 
 
 74 
 
But thou shalt strike a loftier strain, 
 
 When Csesar, on some glorious dayj 
 
 Shall lead the fierce Sicambrian train 3i 
 
 Of captives, up the sacred way : 
 
 Caesar, than whom, in mercy giv'n. 
 
 No greater, better boon we hold ; 
 
 Nor should do, though indulgent Heav'n 
 
 Restor'd the fabled age of gold. 40 
 
 Thou shalt the joyful days record. 
 The city's pubhc games, decreed 
 For Caesar to our pray'rs restor'd. 
 The courts from anxious suitors freed. 
 
 Then shall be heard my joyous lay 45 
 
 (Should aught of mine such honour earn), 
 Oh, glorious sun ! oh, happy day ! 
 That sees Augustus' safe return ! 
 
 75 
 
Tuque dum procedis, lo Triumphe ! 
 Non semel dicemus, lo Triumphe ! so 
 
 Civitas omnis; dabimusque divis 
 Tura benignis. 
 
 Te decern tauii totidemque vaccBe, 
 Me tener solvet vitulus, relicta 
 Matre, qui largis juvenescit herbis 55 
 
 In mea vota, 
 
 Tronte curvatos imitatus ignes 
 Tertium Lunse referentis ortum, 
 Qua notam duxitj niveus videri, 
 
 Csetera fulvus. 60 
 
 76 
 
m, it 2. 
 
 Andj as you pass, from ev'ry tongue 
 
 
 Triumphant stouts renew'd shall rise ; 
 
 50 
 
 And thousands to the temples throng, 
 
 
 To pay their grateful sacrifice. 
 
 
 For thee ten bulls, as many cows ; 
 
 
 For me a weanling calf shall bleed 
 
 
 In satisfaction of my vows, 
 
 55 
 
 "Who revels now in grassy mead : 
 
 
 Dun-colour* d, save of snowy white, 
 
 
 Upon his front a crescent blaze ; 
 
 
 Shaped like the horns of silv'ry light 
 
 
 The moon, at three days old, displays. 
 
 60 
 
 77 
 
 
DiFFUGEEE nives ; redeunt jam gramma campis, 
 
 Arboribusque comse : 
 Mutat terra vices, et decrescentia ripas 
 
 Flumina prastereunt : 
 Gratia cum Nympbis geminisque sororibus audet 5 
 
 Ducere niida cLoros. 
 Immortalia ne speres monet annuSj et almum 
 
 Quae rapit bora diem. 
 Frigora mitescunt Zephyris : ver proterit sestas 
 
 Interitura, simul 10 
 
 Pomifer auctumnus fruges effaderit ; et mox 
 
 Bruma recurrit iners. 
 Damna tamen celeres reparant coelestia lunse : 
 
 Nos, ubi deeidimus 
 Quo pius iEneas, quo dives TuUus et Ancus, 15 
 
 Pulvis et umbra sumus. 
 Quis scit, an adjiciant bodiernse crastina summse 
 
 Tempera Di superi ? 
 
 78 
 
m, il 7. 
 
 The snows are gone, the fields resume their verdant hue ; 
 
 The trees their leaves renew : 
 The earth is freshly clad ; the late swoll'n streams, now low. 
 
 Within their limits flow : 
 The sister Graces three, and Nymphs unzon'd advance, 5 
 
 And lead the festive dance. 
 The seasons' change, the hours that steal our days, explain 
 
 Immortal hopes how vain ! 
 Springs hanish Wintei-'s frosts — Summers succeed to Springs, 
 
 Then fruitful Autumn brings lo 
 
 Her ripen'd treasures forth ; and soon the earth again 
 
 Is bound in wint'ry chain. 
 But Nature's losses soon the circling months repair; 
 
 We, when we journey, where 
 ^neas, TuUus, Ancus, all have gone before, 15 
 
 Are shades and dust — no more ! 
 That Heav'n to this day's sum will add another day. 
 
 Who shall presume to say ? 
 79 
 
Cuncta manus avidas fugient hseredis, amico 
 
 Quse dederis aijimo. 20 
 
 Cum semel occiderisj et de te splendida Minos 
 
 Fecerit arbitria; 
 Non, Torquate, genus, non te facundia, non te 
 
 Restituet pietas. 
 Infemis neque enim tenebris Diana pudicum 25 
 
 Liberat Hippolytumj 
 Nee Lethsea valet Theseus abrumpere caro 
 
 Vincula Pirithoo. 
 
 crO '; iHg"Cl>^ 
 
 80 
 
Whate'er with lib'ral hand thy gen'rous bounty shares. 
 
 Shall 'scape thy greedy heirs ; 20 
 
 When thou shalt once have died, and Minos shall on thee 
 
 Have pass'd his stem decree, 
 Torquatus, not thy blood, thine eloquence, thy worth, 
 
 Can bring thee back to earth. 
 To win Hippolytus from out that dark domain 25 
 
 Chaste Dian strove in vain ; 
 Nor Theseus could from bonds of Lethe's sluinb'rous wave 
 
 His lov'd Pirithous save. 
 
 i'rSS^. 
 
 81 
 
CATULLUS. 
 
 AD STRMIONEM PENINSULAM, 
 
 Peninsularum, Sirmio, insularuinque 
 
 Ocellej quascunque in liquentibus stagnis, 
 
 Marique vasto fert uterque Neptunus : 
 
 Quam te libenter, quamque Isetus inviso ! 
 
 Vix mi ipse credens Thynianij atque Bithynos 5 
 
 Liquisse campos, et videre te in tuto. 
 
 O quid solutis est beatius curis ? 
 
 Cum mens onus reponit, ac peregrino 
 
 Labore fessi venimus larem ad nostrum, 
 
 Desideratoque acquiescimus lecto. lo 
 
 82 
 
CATULLUS. 
 
 SIRMIO. 
 
 SiRMTO, fair eye of all the laughing isles 
 And jutting capes that rise from either main. 
 Or crown our inland waters, with glad smiles 
 Of heartfelt joy I greet thee once again, 
 Scarce daring to believe mine eyes, that see 5 
 
 No more Bithynia's plains, but fondly rest on thee. 
 
 My own, my chosen Home ! Oh, what more blest 
 Than that sweet pause of troubles, when the mind 
 FUngs off its burthen, and when, long oppress'd 
 By cares abroad and foreign toil, we find 10 
 
 Our native home again, and rest our head 
 Once more upon our own, long-lost, long-wished-for bed ! 
 83 
 
Hoc est, quod unum est pro laboribus tantis; 
 Salve, vemista Sirmio, atque hero gaude : 
 Gaudete vosque, Larise lacus undse : 
 Ridete quidquid est domi cachinnorum. 
 
 _-T**;ftir^Sf"'t£S jfc?-s - 
 
 84 
 
This, this alone, o'erpays my ev'ry pain ! 
 Hail ! loveliest Sirmio, hail ! with joy like mine 
 Eeceive thy happy lord ! Thou liquid plain 15 
 Of Laria's lake, in sparkling welcome shine ! 
 Put all your beauties forth ! laugh out ! be glad ! 
 In universal smiles this day must all be clad ! 
 
 — ^-<Aaif*e.cf<fcs,j&> 
 
 85 
 
EPITAPH 
 
 A YOUNG LADY. 
 
 [I am ashamed to say that I have forgotten who was the author of 
 these touching Lines. They have always struck me as among the 
 tersest and most classical specimens I know of a Christian Epitaph.] 
 
 Cara, vale! ingenio prsestans, pietate, pudore, 
 Et plusquam natse nomine cara, vale ! 
 
 Cara, vale ! donee veniat felicius agvum, 
 
 Quando iterum tecum, sim mode dignus, ero. 
 
 Cara, redi, Iset^ turn dicam voce, paternos 
 Eia age in amplexus, cara Maria, redi ! 
 
 8fi 
 
EPITAPH 
 
 A YOUNG LADY. 
 
 Dear Child, fareivell ! that didst in worth. 
 
 Wit, piety, so far excel ! 
 By closer ties than those of birth 
 
 Knit to my heart, dear ChUd, farewell ! 
 
 Dear Child, farewell ! till Time bring round 5 
 
 Those blessed ages, yet in store. 
 When I, if haply worthy found. 
 
 Shall meet thee face to face once more ! 
 
 Dear Child, oh come, no more to part. 
 
 Shall I exclaim in rapture then ; lo 
 
 To bless a Father's arms and heart. 
 My Child, my Mary, come again ! 
 
 87 
 
EPITAPH 
 
 llaqxtis d WidkBk^, 
 
 BY HIMSELF. 
 
 FobtunjE rerUmque vagis exercituS undis. 
 
 In gremium redeo serus, Etona, tuum. , 
 Magna sequi, et summse mirari culmina famse, 
 
 Et purum antiquse lucis adire jubar. 
 Auspice te didici puer ; atque in limine vitse 5 
 
 Ingenuas verse laudis amare vias. 
 Siqua meutn vitse decursse gloria nomen 
 
 Auxerit, aut aliquis nobilitarit honor, 
 Muneris, alma, tui est. Altrix da terra sepulcrum, 
 
 Supremam lacrymam da, memoremque mei. lO 
 
 88 
 
EPITAPH 
 
 arqwis d WidltBhia, 
 
 BY HIMSELF. 
 
 Long tost on Fortune's waves, I come to rest, 
 
 Eton, once more on thy maternal breast. 
 
 On loftiest deeds to fix th' aspiring gaze, 
 
 To seek the purer lights of ancient days. 
 
 To love the simple paths of manly truth, — 5 
 
 These were thy lessons to my op'ning youth. 
 
 If on my later life some glory shine. 
 
 Some honours grace my name, the meed is thine ! 
 
 My Boyhood's nurse, my aged dust receive. 
 
 And one last tear of kind remembrance give ! lo 
 
 89 
 
MILLEYOYE. 
 
 T\E la depouille de nos bois 
 
 L'Automne avait jonche la terre ; 
 Le bocage etait sans mystfere, 
 Le rossignol etait sans voix. 
 
 Triste, et mourant dans son aurore, 5 
 
 Un jeune malade, h pas lents, 
 
 Parcourait une fois encore 
 
 Les bois cbers k ses premiers ans. 
 
 Bois cheris, adieu ! je succombe ; 
 Votre deuU predit men sort ; 10 
 
 Et dans cbaque feuille qui tombe 
 Je vois Parrot de ma mort. 
 92 
 
MILLEYOYE, 
 
 'T^HICKLY amid the groves were laid 
 The leafy spoils of Autumn's gale ; 
 Each woody nook to light display'd. 
 And hush'd the voiceless nightingale. 
 
 Ev'n in his dawn of life decaying, 5 
 
 A youthful poet sadly rov'd ; 
 Yet once again with faint steps straying 
 Amid the scenes his childhood lov'd. 
 
 Dear woods, farewell ! your moui-nful hue 
 Foretells the doom that waits on me ; lo 
 
 And in each blighted leaf, anew 
 I learn to read my death's decree. 
 93 
 
Fatal oracle d'Epidaure, 
 
 Tu l^as dit, les feuilles du bois 
 
 A tes yeux jauniront encore, 15 
 
 Mais c'est pour la dernifere fois. 
 
 Le sombre cypres t'environne ; 
 
 Plus pMe que le p^le Automne, 
 
 Tu t'inclines vers le tombeau ; 
 
 Et ta jeunesse sera fletrie 20 
 
 Avant I'herbe de la prairie, 
 
 Avant le pampre du c6teau. 
 
 Et je meurs ! de leur froide haleine 
 
 Les vents funestes m'ont touche ; 
 
 Et mon printemps s'ach^ve a peine, 25 
 
 Que mon hiver s'est approche. 
 
 94 
 
Yes he, the boding sage^ has said, 
 Perchance thine eye may see once more 
 Th' Autumnal forest's mellowing red, 15 
 
 Yet once again, and then 'tis o'er. 
 
 Round thy young front, all dark and sere. 
 
 Is twin'd e'en now the cypress wreath ; 
 
 And paler than the paling year 
 
 Thou bendest tow'rds the bed of death. 20 
 
 Ere yonder russet grass shall fade. 
 Ere droop upon yon vine-clad height 
 The last remains of ling'ring shade. 
 Thy youth shall feel the nipping blight. 
 
 And I must die ! the chilling blast 25 
 
 Congeals me with its icy touch j 
 And ere my spring of life is past, 
 I feel my winter's near approach. 
 
 95 
 
Tombe, tombe, feuille ephemfere ! 
 
 Voile aux yeux ce triste chemin ! 
 
 Cache au desespoir de ma mfere 
 
 La place ou je serai demain ! 30 
 
 Mais vers la solitaire allee 
 
 Si mon amaute desolee 
 
 Venait pleurer quand le jour fuit, 
 
 Eveillee- par son leger bruit 
 
 Mon ombre un instant consolee ... 35 
 
 II dit — s'eloigne, et sans retour ! 
 La derniere feuille qui tombe 
 A signale son dernier jour. 
 Sous la chene on creusa sa tombe. 
 
 Mais son amante ne vint pas 40 
 
 Visiter la pierre isolee ; 
 
 Et le p&tre de la vallee 
 
 Troubla seul, du bruit de ses pas, 
 
 Le silence du mausolee. 
 
 96 
 
Fall, blighted foliage, chill and pale ; 
 
 Hide from the sight this road of sorrow, 30 
 
 And from a mother's anguish veil 
 
 The spot where I must lie to-morrow ! 
 
 But if to this sequester'd brake 
 Kind pity lead one much-lov'd Maid ; 
 Sweetly her fairy step shall wake, 35 
 
 And soothe awhile my troubled shade ! 
 
 He past — and never to return ! — 
 
 The last leaf quiv'ring in the glade 
 
 Fell on the youthful Poet's urn. 
 
 Beneath the oak his tomb was made. 40 
 
 But never to that lowly stone 
 The Maiden came, by pity led; 
 The passing Shepherd's step alone 
 Disturb'd that still sepulchral bed. 
 
 97 
 
FROM THE ITALIAN. 
 
METASTASIO. 
 
 o>a^o 
 
 LA PARTENZA. 
 
 T7^ ceo quel fiero istante ; 
 Nice, mia Nice, addio. 
 Come vivro, ben mio, 
 Cosi lontan da te ? 
 
 To vivro sempre iu pene, 5 
 
 lo non avro pii bene ; 
 E tu, cbi sa se mai 
 Ti sovverrai di me ! 
 
 Soffri che in traccia almeno 
 
 Di mia perduta pace lo 
 
 Venga il pensier seguace 
 Sull' orme del tuo pi^. 
 
 100 
 
METASTASIO. 
 
 OJ4KO 
 
 THE PARTING. 
 
 'T^HE hour is come ! Love, fare thee well ! 
 
 Farewell, my Love, my first, my last ! 
 For me the charms of life are past 
 
 When far away from thee. Love ! 
 For me nor joys nor peace remain, 5 
 
 But wakef al thoughts and ceaseless pain ; 
 While thou, perchance, wilt never more — 
 
 Oh, never, think on me. Love ! 
 
 Yet canst thou not forhid my thoughts 
 Ling'ring around those charms to stay, 10 
 
 Which sweetly stole my peace away. 
 And hover still round thee. Love ! 
 
 101 
 
W^ituMs. 
 
 
 Sempre nel tuo cammino. 
 
 
 
 Sempre m' avrai vicino ; 
 
 
 
 E tUj chi sa se mai 
 
 15 
 
 
 Ti sowerrai di me ! 
 
 
 
 lo fra remote sponde 
 
 
 
 Mesto volgendo i passi 
 
 
 
 Andro chiedendo ai sassi. 
 
 
 
 La ninfa mia dov' e ? 
 
 20 
 
 
 Dall' una aW altra aurora 
 
 
 
 Te andro chiamando ognora, 
 
 
 
 E tu, chi sa se mai 
 
 
 
 Ti sowerrai di me ! 
 
 
 
 lo rivedro sovente 
 
 25 
 
 
 Le amene piagge, o Nice, 
 
 
 
 Dove vivea felice. 
 
 
 
 Quando vivea con te. 
 
 
 * 
 
 A me saran tormento 
 
 
 
 Cento memorie e cento ; 
 
 30 
 
 102 
 
 
 
^t "^nxtmi 
 
 Stillj still about thy path, where'er 
 Thy steps are turn'd, my heart is there ; 
 While thou, perchance, wilt never more — 15 
 
 Oh, never, think on me. Love ! 
 
 While I through distant climes shall roam. 
 And sadly to the desert shore 
 My constant strain of sorrow pour. 
 
 And vainly call on thee. Love ! 20 
 
 From morn to morn one theme of woe. 
 One only theme, my heart, can know ; 
 While thou, perchance, wilt never more — 
 
 Ah, never, think on me, Love ! 
 
 And on those scenes of vanish'd joys, 25 
 
 Those pleasant scenes, I oft shall gaze. 
 When swiftly passed the blissful days. 
 
 The days I pass'd with thee. Love ! 
 For me shall ev'ry spot I view 
 My bleeding mem'ry's Wounds renew ; 30 
 
 103 
 
'§iiMm. 
 
 
 E tUj chi sa se mai 
 
 
 
 Ti sovverrai di me ! 
 
 
 
 Ecco, diro, quel fonte. 
 
 
 
 Dove avvampo di sdegno, 
 
 
 
 Ma poi di pace in pegno 
 
 35 
 
 
 La bella man mi di^. 
 
 
 
 Qui si vivea di speme. 
 
 
 
 Lh si languiva insieme ; 
 
 
 
 E tu, chi sa se mai 
 
 
 
 Ti sovverrai di me ! 
 
 40 
 
 
 Quanti vedrai giungendo 
 
 
 
 Al nuovo tuo soggiorno, 
 
 
 
 Quanti venirti intorno 
 
 
 
 A offrirti amore, e fe ! 
 
 
 
 Dio ! chi sa fra tanti 
 
 45 
 
 
 Teneri omaggi^ e pianti, 
 
 
 
 Dio ! chi sa se mai 
 
 
 
 Ti sovverrai di me ! 
 
 
 104 
 
 
 
While thou, perchance, wilt never more — 
 Ah, never, think on me. Love ! 
 
 Beside this fount I saw thy brow 
 
 A moment cloud, but soon appeas'd 
 
 That beauteous hand with rapture seiz'd, 35 
 
 The pledge of peace with thee. Love ! 
 Here first I heard Hope's flatt'ring tone ; 
 There fondly sigh'd, but iiot alone ; 
 Yet thou, perchance, wilt never more — 
 
 Ah, never, think on me. Love ! 40 
 
 And now around thy new abode, 
 
 Full many a heart like mine shall swell. 
 
 And many a tale of passion tell. 
 
 And vows of truth to thee. Love ! 
 And thou, while all their homage pay, 45 
 
 And fondly weep, or softly pray. 
 Wilt thou, perchance, one moment ever, — 
 
 Oh, wilt thou, think on me. Love ? 
 
 105 
 
Pensa qual dolce strale, 
 
 Cara, mi lasci in seno : 50 
 
 Pensa che am6 Fileno 
 Senza sperar merc^ ! 
 
 Pensa, mia vita, a questo 
 Barbaro addio funesto ; 
 Pensa . . . Ah chi sa se mai 55 
 
 Ti sowerrai di me ! 
 
 ^s-SAJJSP^Sf^SWe^S'S'- 
 
 106 
 
Ohj think on all the pangs I feel, 
 
 The wound that rankles in my breast : 50 
 
 I dar*!! not hope — but, hope suppressed. 
 
 Still fondly worshipped thee, Love ! 
 Oh, think what anguish'd feelings swell. 
 In this last, bitt'rest fare-thee-well ! 
 Oh, think — but thou wilt never more — 55 
 
 No, never, think on me. Love ! 
 
 1823. 
 
 
 lor 
 
Jp 1 Jjf 1 (j A 1 An 
 
 ALL' ITALIA. 
 
 ItaliAj Italia^ o tu cui feo la sorte 
 
 Dono infelice di bellezza, ond' hai 
 
 Funesta dote d' infiniti guai 
 
 Che in fronte scritti per gran doglia porta ; 
 Deh fossi tu men bella^ o almen piu forte, 5 
 
 Onde assai piu ti paventasse, o assai 
 
 T' amasse men chi del tuo belie ai rai 
 
 Par cbe si strugga, e pur ti sfida a morte ! 
 Che or giii dall'Alpi non vedrei torrenti 
 
 Scender d^ armati, ne di sangue tinta 10 
 
 Bever 1' onda del Po gallici armenti ; 
 Nfe te vedrei, del non tuo ferro cinta, 
 
 Pugnar col braccio di straniere genti, 
 
 Per servir sempre o vincitrice o vinta. 14 
 
 108 
 
X X XX Ji \J A. X A.n 
 
 SONNETS TO ITALY. 
 
 Italia ! oh, Italia ! thou on whom 
 The fatal gift of beauty brings e'en now 
 The dow'r of anguish, which thy constant doom 
 Hath grav'n for ages on thy furrow'd brow ! 
 Wert thou less fair, or more renowned in arms ! 5 
 
 That they might love thee less, or fear thee more, 
 Who, basking in the sunshine of thy charms. 
 Yet on thy beauties war and rapine pour. 
 Then should not I behold the war-cloud burst 
 Down from the Alps ; nor France's legions bending lo 
 In the Po's bloodstain'd waves to quench their thirst ; 
 Nor thee, on valour not thine own depending. 
 With foreign friends from foreign foes to save, 
 Conqu'ring or conquer' d, still alike a hopeless slave ! 14 
 109 
 
Dov' h, Italia, il tuo braccio ? e a che ti servi 
 
 Tu dell' altrui ? non k, s' io scorgo il vero, 
 
 Di chi t' offende il difensor men fero : 
 
 Ambo nemici sono, ambo fur servi. 
 Cosi dunque 1' onorj cosi conservi 5 
 
 Gli avanzi tu del glorioso impero ? 
 
 Cosi al valor, cosi al valor primiero 
 
 Che a te fede giur6j la fade osservi ? 
 Or va' ; repudia il valor prisco, e sposa 
 
 L'ozio; e fra il sangue, i gemiti e le strida, 10 
 
 Nel periglio maggior dormi e riposa : 
 Dormi, adultera vil, fin cbe omicida 
 
 Spada ultrice ti svegli, e sonnaccbiosa 
 
 E nuda in braccio al tuo fedel t' uccida. 14 
 
 110 
 
Sffn. ii. 
 
 Where is thine arm, Italia ? why employ 
 A stranger's hand to guard thee ? he who saves 
 Is not less fierce than they who now destroy : 
 Both are thy foes, and both were once thy slaves. 
 Preserv'st thou thus thine honour ? dar'st thou show 5 
 Such mem'ry of thy once all-glorious reign ? 
 To Valour, ancient Valour, keep'st thou so 
 The plighted faith he swore to thee again ? 
 Go, then ! divorce thy wedded lord ! espouse 
 Foul, helpless Sloth ! sleep on, 'mid cries abhorr'd, to 
 And groans, and murder, mindless of thy vows ! 
 Sleep, vile adult'ress, till th' avenging sword 
 Find thee a naked, slumb'ring, guilty prey, 
 Ev'n in thy leman's arms, and wake thee but to slay ! 14 
 
 HI 
 
Bm, iii. 
 
 Vanno a un termiue sol con passi eguali 
 
 Del verno, Italia, e di tua vita V ore ; 
 
 N^ ancor sai quante di sua man lavore 
 
 A tno danno il destin saette e strali. 
 Ma qual per sotterranei canali 5 
 
 Scorre '1 Nilo, e improvviso esce poi fuore ; 
 
 Taij schiuso il fonte del natio furore, 
 
 Tutte in te sboccheran Pacque dei mali : 
 E vedrai tosto in si turbata e fiera 
 
 Onda naufraghe andar tema gelosa, lo 
 
 Prudenza inerme, e vanitate altera : 
 Vedrai che imperio disunito posa 
 
 Sempre in falso j e che parte indarno spera 
 
 Salvar, chi tutto di salvar non osa. 14 
 
 112 
 
Bm. ffi. 
 
 With equal steps, Italia, tow'rd their close 
 Approaeli the winter, and thine hours of life ; 
 Nor know'st thou yet with what a storm of woes 
 For thee the clouds of destiny are rife. 
 But as the Nile pursues his hidden course, 5 
 
 Till all at once his mighty waters rise ; 
 Ev'n so on thee in fury from their source 
 Shall burst the torrent of thy miseries. 
 Then shalt thou see, beneath that whelming tide 
 Shipwrecked and sunk, thine over-jealous fears, lo 
 
 Thy helpless prudence and vainglorious pride ! 
 Then see how weak disjointed pow'r appears ! 
 Then learn how vain the coward statesman's art, 
 Who fears to guard the whole, yet hopes to save a part. 14 
 
 113 
 
S0n. ilr. 
 
 SoNO, Italia, per te discordia e morte 
 
 In due nomi una cosa ; e a si gran male 
 Un mal s' aggiugne non minor, che frale 
 Non se'abbastanza nfe abbastanza forte. 
 
 In tale stato, in cosi dubbia sorte 5 
 
 Ceder non piace, e contrastar non vale : 
 Onde come a mezz' aria impennan V ale, 
 E a fiera pugna i venti apron le porte ; 
 
 Tra '1 frale e '1 forte tuo non altrimenti 
 
 Nascon quasi a mezz' aria, e guerra fanno lo 
 
 D^ ira, invidia e timor turbini e venti ; 
 
 E tai piovono in te nembi d' affanno, 
 Che se speri o disperi, osi o paventi, 
 Diverso h '1 rischio, e sempre ugual fia '1 danno. 14 
 
 114 
 
Fob thee, Italia, Death aud Discord are 
 Two names, one thing ; and with this ill thou hast 
 Another greater ; that too weak for war, 
 Thou art too strong to be in silence past. 
 In such perplexing state of doubt and care, 5 
 
 To yield is bitter, hopeless to contend : 
 Whence, as conflicting winds in middle air. 
 Now here, now there, their balancM pinions bend ; 
 So mingled Jealousy, and Fear, and Rage, 
 Self-pois'd between thy weakness and thy pow^r, lo 
 Within thy breast their whirlwind battle wage ; 
 And down on thee such storms of misery show'r. 
 That, hope — despair — or crouch, or nobly strike. 
 Though varying still the risk, thy doom is seal'd alike ! 14 
 
 115 
 
X. IJ. 
 
 QuANDO gixx dai gran monti bruua brana 
 
 Cade 1' ombra, un pensiero a dir mi sforza : 
 S' accende altrove il di, se qui si smorza ; 
 N^ tutto a un tempo 1' universo imbruna. 
 
 Indi esclamo : Qual notte atra importuna 5 
 
 Tutte 1' ampie tue glorie a un tratto aramorza ? 
 Glorie di sennOj di valor, di forza 
 Gik mille avesti ; or non hai tu pur una. 
 
 E in cosi buie tenebre non vedi 
 
 L' alto incendio di guerra, onde tutt' ardi ? 10 
 
 E non credi al tuo mal, se agli ocebi credi ? 
 
 Ma se tue stragi col soiFrir ritardi, 
 
 Soffrij misera, soffri ; indi a te chiedi 
 
 Se sia forse vittoria il perder tardi. 14 
 
 116 
 
When darker still th' embrowning shade declines 
 From the huge mountain-topj " our dying lights" 
 Musing I cry, " on other nations shines. 
 Nor reigns o'er all one universal night." 
 But thou, Italia ! in what gloom departs 5 
 
 The vanish'd glory of thy mid-day sun ! 
 Glories of wit and valour, arms and arts. 
 All once were thine, and now remains not one ! 
 Amid such gloomy darkness, seest thoa not 
 The flame of war that kindles all around ? lo 
 
 Or dost thou see, nor yet believe thy lot ? 
 But if by suffering still delay be found, 
 Yes, suffer still ! yet shalt thou sometime see 
 That death deferred awhile, is far from victory ! 14 
 
 U7 
 
SoFFRi, misera, soffri. Ecco al tuo foco 
 
 Tempran 1^ inverno i Franchi ; e s' interpone 
 Sol fra' tuoi scempi e te la rea stagione 
 Che omai s' avanza, e al nuovo april dh loco. 
 
 Ma pria ehe tromba micidial col fioco 5 
 
 Suo canto accenda la fatal tenzone, 
 Odi cio clie in tuo danno il ciel dispone. 
 Estremo fe il danno ; e '1 prenderai tu a gioco ? 
 
 Freme il nemico, e ti vuol morta j e giura, 
 
 Giura di iar, pria che '1 terren verdeggi, lO 
 
 L^ infausta masse de'tuo'guai matura. 
 
 Non oscnro h il linguaggio : ancor non leggi 
 Nelle minacce sue la tua sciagura ? 
 servire, o morir. Pensa, ed eleggi. 14 
 
 118 
 
3mmts ta Ital^. 
 
 Yes, hapless, suffer still ! victorious France 
 Cheers in thy milder clime the wintry gloom ; 
 And tow'rd their close the rigorous months advance. 
 That interpose between thee and thy doom. 
 But ere the murd'rous trump of war have giv'n 5 
 
 Its fearful prelude to the battle shock. 
 Hear how thy destiny is sealed in Heav'n | 
 And wilt thou still the awful warning mock ? 
 Thy fate draws near — thine hour is come — thy foes 
 Have sworn, ere earth be clad in verdure yet, lo 
 
 To reap the harvest of thy ripen'd woes ; 
 No dubious language, no ambiguous threat : 
 Eead then thy sentence in their warning voice — 
 To die, or live a slave ! Reflect, and take thy choice ! 14 
 
 119 
 
ALLA LIBERIA PERDUTA. 
 
 'l dolce tempo cV io di te godei, 
 
 Rendij e '1 forte mio laccio aureo recidi : 
 O fa^ ell' io perda^ poich^ te perdei, 
 U alta imago del bel che in te gik vidi. 
 
 S' io t' amo, o bella liiherth, gV Iddei 5 
 
 II sanno, e '1 san le valli e i monti e i lidi, 
 E '1 mar che cresce de' gran pianti miei^ 
 E V acre ch' empio de' miei alti stridi. 
 
 Ma se degli odi tuoi son io ben degno 
 
 Dal di chMo servo a dignitate ancella^ 10 
 
 Purche scemi '1 tuo bel, cresca '1 tuo sdegno. 
 
 Quando s' adira il ciel, n^ sol ne stella, 
 Nfe in lui pur veggio di bellezza un segno : 
 Tu piii sempre t'adiri, e piu sei bella. 14 
 
 120 
 
LOST FREEDOM. 
 
 Oh, break my golden fetters, and restore 
 The happy hours when I with thee was bless'd j 
 Or, if I lose thee, let me keep no more 
 The mem'ry of the bliss I once possess'd. 
 That I love thee, Freedom, Heav'n can tell, 5 
 
 The mountain echoes, and the lonely vale ; 
 The ocean flood that with my tears I swell ; 
 The desert air that hears my constant wail. 
 But if indeed thy wrath I justly feel, 
 Become the slave of slavish dignity, lo 
 
 Increase thine anger, but thy charms conceal. 
 When Heav'n is wroth, nor sun nor stars we see. 
 Nor sign of beauty cheers the darken'd air ; 
 But thou art still more wroth, and still art doubly fair ! 
 
 121 
 
DISPREZZO BELLA GLORIA TERRENA. 
 
 viNTO si, ma non mai vinto appieno, 
 Desio di gloria, che di terra nasci, 
 E sei terra, e di terra anco ti pasci, 
 E fai 1' uom, come te, tutto terreno ; 
 
 Qual pro che ad or ad or dentro al mio seno 5 
 
 Te quasi estinto e tramortito io lasci, 
 Se ognor piii forte, qual Anteo, rinasci 
 Tocco appena al materno empio terreno ? 
 
 Empio terren della mia propria stima, 
 
 Dal cui contatto si malvagio e reo, 10 
 
 S' unqua fia ch' io ti stacchi e poi t' opprima, 
 
 Del grande scempio d' un piu forte Anteo 
 Andro superbo, e n' avro spoglia opima, 
 E faro piii che in Libia Ercol non feo. 14 
 
 122 
 
DISPARAGEMENT OF EARTHLY GLORY. 
 
 Oh, vanquish'd oft, but never quite subdued. 
 Desire of Glory, child of mortal birth. 
 That art all earth thyself, and earth thy food. 
 And mak'st thy subjects, like thyself, all earth ! 
 Oh, what avails it, that with constant toil i 
 
 I Strive, and stifle thee within my bjoaet ; 
 If still thy contact with thy native soil 
 Fresh strength and life, Antseus-like, impart ? 
 That soil accurst, my own too fond conceit ; 
 Whence could I tear thee once, and so destroy, lo 
 Then would I celebrate that glorious feat 
 With far more triumph, more exulting joy. 
 Than Hercules on Libya's plains could know, 
 When he Antseus slew, a far less dang'rous foe. 14 
 
 123 
 
YILLEGIATURA DI PRIMAVERA, 
 
 lo son si vago deW orror natio 
 Di questi alpestri e solitari colli, 
 Che non fian gli occhi mai stanchi o satolli 
 Di mandarne 1' imago al pensier mio. 
 
 Crescer qui 1' erbe nuove, e qui vegg' io 
 
 Spuntar sul tronco i giovani rampolli ; 5 
 
 E alle verd' ombre di rugiada molli 
 Spegner la sete, e farsi specchio il rio. 
 
 Qui le reliquie de' miei giorni al lido 
 
 Traggo ; e quei germi che '1 maligno suolo 
 
 Di mia mente nodri, svello e recido : 10 
 
 E dei passati error, pensoso e solo, 
 Mentre V istoria in ogni tronco incido, 
 Di pianto il bagno ; e vi germoglia il duolo. 14 
 
 124 
 
COUNTRY IN SPRING. 
 
 These lonely hills possess such charms for me. 
 These glades in all their native wildness dress'd. 
 That day by day unwearied still I see. 
 And plant their image in my thoughtful breast. 
 Pleas'd, I behold the new-born verdure grow, 5 
 
 The tender shoots put forth their leafy green ; 
 Or sit beside the stream, whose limpid flow 
 Bathes, and reflects at once, the forest scene. 
 Here all unseen, long tranquil days I lead ; 
 Here from my heart's pernicious soil I cast lo 
 
 Each evil thought, each noxious mental weed : 
 Here muse in silence o'er my errors past ; 
 And on some tree my self-inflicted woes 
 Record, and bathe with tears ; and there repentance grows ! 
 
 1823. 
 
 125 
 
MAN2;0NL 
 
 IL CINQUE DI MAGGIO. 
 
 Ei fd! — siccome immobilej 
 
 Dato il mortal sospiro 
 
 Stette la spoglia immemore 
 
 Orba di tanto spiro ; 
 
 Cosi percossa^ attonita^ 5 
 
 La terra al nunzio sta ; 
 Muta pensando all' ultima 
 Ora dell' uom fatale, 
 Nfe sa quando una simile 
 Orma di pi^ mortale 10 
 
 La sua cruenta polvere 
 
 A calpestar verrk. 
 
 126 
 
MANZONL 
 
 •+IH^ 
 
 THE FIETH OF MAY. 
 
 'Tis past ; as, motionless and pale, 
 The mortal struggle o'er, but late 
 With that proud spirit animate. 
 Now lies the senseless clay : 
 So, awe-struck, in dismay, 5 
 
 Earth stands in breathless trance, and listens to the tale. 
 That fated Mortal's dying hour 
 She muses o'er, and ponders when 
 With iron heel such earthly pow'r 
 Shall tread her bloodstain'd fields again. lo 
 
 127 
 
'Bmoni 
 
 
 Luij folgorante in soglio, 
 
 
 
 Vide il mio genioj e tacque ; 
 
 
 
 Quando con vice assidua 
 
 15 
 
 
 Cadde, risorse^ e giacque, 
 
 
 
 Di mille voci al sonito 
 
 
 
 Mista la sua non ha ; 
 
 
 
 Vergin di servo encomio. 
 
 
 
 E di codardo oltraggioj 
 
 20 
 
 
 Sorge or commosso a] subito 
 
 
 
 Sparir di tanto raggio, 
 
 
 
 E scioglie all' urna un cantico. 
 
 
 
 Che forse non morra. 
 
 
 
 Dall' Alpi alle Piramidi, 
 
 25 
 
 
 Dal Manzanarre al Rheno, 
 
 
 
 Di quel securo il fulmine 
 
 
 
 Scorrea dietro al baleno ; 
 
 
 
 Scoppio da Scilla a Tanai, 
 
 
 
 Dair uno all' altro mar. 
 
 30 
 
 
 Fu vera gloria ? ai Posteri 
 
 
 
 L' ardua sentenza ! Nui 
 
 
 128 
 
 
 
f |i |ift| at lag. 
 
 Him, uninspir'd, my soul beheld, 
 Enthron'd in glory's glittering hall ; 
 I mark'd him from his splendour flung, 
 Again to rise, again to fall ; 
 And when a thousand harps were strung, 15 
 My voice the chorus never swell'd ; 
 By servile flatt'ry ne'er disgrac'd. 
 By coward insult undehas'd. 
 But now, o'er such a planet's last eclipse. 
 
 She wakes, and haply not in vain, 20 
 
 From unpolluted lips. 
 Pours o'er the funeral urn a long-surviving strain. 
 
 From Alpine heights to Egypt's shore, 
 From Rhine to Tagus, far around 
 Was heard his thunder's vengeful roar j 25 
 
 And Death was in the sound ! 
 His red-wing'd lightning flash'd from Scylla's rock ; 
 The frozen North re-echo'd to the shock. 
 Was this true glory ? let succeeding Time 
 
 That arduous question ask ; 30 
 
 129 K 
 
llra^ffitl 
 
 
 Chiniam la fronte al massimo 
 
 
 
 Fattor, che voile in lui 
 
 
 
 Del Creator suo Spirito 
 
 35 
 
 
 Piii vasta orma stampar. 
 
 
 
 La procellosa e trepida 
 
 
 
 Gioja d'un gran disegno; 
 
 
 
 U ansia d' un cor che indocile 
 
 
 
 ServCj pensando al regno ; 
 
 40 
 
 
 E' 1 giugncj e ottiene nn premio 
 
 
 
 Ch' era follia sperar ; 
 
 
 
 Tutto ei provo ! la gloria 
 
 
 
 Maggior dopo il periglio, 
 
 
 
 La fuga e la vittoria, 
 
 45 
 
 
 11 regnOj e il tristo esilio ; 
 
 
 
 Due volte nella polvere, 
 
 
 
 Due volte in sull' altar. 
 
 
 
 Ei si nomo ; due secoli 
 
 
 
 L' un contro V altro armato. 
 
 50 
 
 130 
 
 
 
%\i m\ St 3m. 
 
 Ours be the simpler task 
 Before the mighty Maker's throne to bow, 
 Who in that tow'ring genius deignM to show 
 Of His Creator Spirit an image, how subhme ! 
 
 The stormy, tremulous delight 35 
 
 Of some exalted plan ; 
 The fever of the haughty soul 
 Of more than mortal scope : 
 Scarce curb'd to serve, with eager scan 
 Still fix'd on Empire as its goal j 40 
 
 And reaching such a dizzy height 
 'Twere madness to have dar'd to hope — 
 All this he knew ; he too had known 
 The blaze of glory, brighter from defeat ; 
 
 The flight — the victory — the throne — 45 
 
 The Exile's lone retreat ; 
 Twice in the dust ; and twice, in sterner pride, 
 A god, by countless myriads deified. 
 
 He comes : two centuries are seen 
 Array'd in hostile arms to stand; 50 
 
 131 
 
Itra^rai 
 
 
 Sommessi a lui si volserOj 
 
 
 
 Come aspettando il fato : 
 
 
 
 Ei fe silenzio, ed arbitro 
 
 
 
 S' assise in mezzo a lor. 
 
 
 
 E sparve ; e i dl nell' ozio 
 
 55 
 
 
 Chiuse in si breve sponda^ 
 
 
 
 Segno d' immensa invidia, 
 
 
 
 E di pietk profonda ; 
 
 
 
 D' inestinguibil odio^ 
 
 
 
 E d' indomato amor. 
 
 60 
 
 
 Come, sul capo al naufrago. 
 
 
 
 L' onda s' avvolve, e pesa ; 
 
 
 
 L' onda, su cui del misero 
 
 
 
 Alta pur dianzi e tesa 
 
 
 
 Scorrea la vista a scernere 
 
 65 
 
 
 Preda remota invan ; 
 
 
 
 Tal su quell' alma il cumulo 
 
 
 
 Delle memorie scese. 
 
 
 
 Ahi, quante volte ai posteri 
 
 
 
 Narrar se stesso imprese ! 
 
 70 
 
 132 
 
 
 
f |i #fit 0f Pi. 
 
 To him they turn^ from his command, 
 
 Submiss, their destiny await ; 
 
 He bids be still ; and, high between, 
 
 He sits, the arbiter of fate ! 
 
 He vanish'd — and in dull repose, 55 
 
 In narrow bounds his life must close ; 
 
 By turns, in ev^ry changing state. 
 
 Object of envy, love, and fear ; 
 
 Pursued by unextinguished hate. 
 
 And wept by Pity's tend^rest tear. no 
 
 As o'er the drowning wretch 
 Th' incumbent wave rolls its o'erwhelming weight ; 
 That very wave, o'er which, of late. 
 His eagle eye would proudly stretch. 
 And, borne aloft, exult to spy 65 
 
 His destin'd victim vainly fly ; 
 So o'er that haughty soul 
 Must the dark tide of recollection roll ! 
 
 How oft, to each succeeding age 
 
 To paint himself he vainly planned ! 70 
 
 133 
 
ilan^OT. 
 
 
 Ma sulP eterna pagina 
 
 
 
 Cadde la stanea man ! 
 
 
 
 Aid, quante volte al tacito 
 
 
 
 Morir d' un giorno inerte. 
 
 
 
 Chinati i rai fulminei, 
 
 75 
 
 
 Le braccia al sen conserte, 
 
 
 
 Stette, e dei di che furono 
 
 
 
 L' assalse il sowenir ! 
 
 
 
 E ripenso le mobili 
 
 
 
 Tende, e i percossi valli. 
 
 80 
 
 
 E '1 campo dei manipolij 
 
 
 
 E 1 "onda dei cavalli ; 
 
 
 
 E '1 concitato imperioj 
 
 
 
 E '1 celere ubbedir ! 
 
 
 
 Ahi, forse a tanto strazio 
 
 85 
 
 
 Cadde lo spirito anelo. 
 
 
 
 E dispero ; ma valida 
 
 
 134 
 
 
 
As oft, upon th' eternal page 
 Sank overpower'd his weary hand. 
 Oft, as in silence died some listless day, 
 
 His eyeball's lightning ray 
 Bent idly on the tumbling flood, 75 
 
 With folded arms he stood ; 
 And bitterly he number'd o'er 
 The days that had been, and that were no more ! 
 
 He saw the quick-struck tents again. 
 
 The hot assault, the battle-plain, 80 
 
 The troops in martial pomp array' d. 
 
 The pealing of th' artillery. 
 
 The torrent charge of cavalry ; 
 
 The hasty word 
 
 In thunder heard — 85 
 
 Heard, and at once obey'd ! 
 
 Beneath such suffocating thought 
 Perchance the panting soul at times 
 Would sink in chill despair ; 
 
 135 
 
Venne una man dal cielo, , 
 
 E in piii spirabil aere 
 
 Pietosa il trasport6, 90 
 
 E V avvio sui floridi 
 Sentier della speranza 
 Ai campi etemi, al premio 
 Che '1 desiderio avanza ; 
 Ov' k silenzio e tenebre 95 
 
 La gloria ehe passo. 
 Bella, Immortalj benefica 
 Eede, ai trionfi avvezza, 
 Scrivi ancor questo ; allegrati, 
 Che piii superba altezza loo 
 
 Al disonor del Golgota 
 
 Giammai non si chino. 
 Tu dalle stanche ceneri 
 Sperdi ogni ria parola ; 
 II Dio, che atterra e suscita, 105 
 
 Che affanna e che consola, 
 Sulla deserta coltrice 
 
 Accanto a lui poso ! 
 
 136 
 
^t im ^f wm' 
 
 But Heav'n in mercy consolation brought^ 90 
 
 And bore his weary spirit to purer climes 
 Of holier light, and more refreshing air ! 
 
 By viewless hands his steps were led, 
 
 The flow'ry paths of Hope to tread, 
 
 Tow'rd those enchanting fields of rest, 95 
 
 By unimagin'd joys possess'd ; 
 
 Where mortal glory's feeble ray 
 
 Is quench'd in one unclouded day. 
 
 Thou, whose triumphs who can tell ? 
 
 Pure, heav'nly Faith ! amid the rest loo 
 
 Let this the glorious number swell ! 
 
 Rejoice ! for never haughtier crest. 
 
 To Him on Golgotha who died. 
 Hath vail'd his stubborn pride. 
 
 From foul reproach, angelic Friend, 105 
 
 Do thou his weary dust defend ! 
 Since on that lonely couch, and suffering breast. 
 
 He, who alone hath pow'r the soul 
 
 To raise, depress, afflict, console. 
 
 The Mighty God hath deign'd to rest ! no 
 
 137 Rome, 1822. 
 
jj U XI 1 Ju Ju Je< xv« 
 
 ©0 mttji bu treuloS »on ntir fd)eibcn 
 9Kit beincn {)otben '5JI)antaften, 
 S)Jit beinen ©d)merjen, beincn Sreubcn, 
 SKit aEcn unerbittUd) fliel)n? 
 
 ^ann nid)t§ bid)^ gttc{)enbe, serweilcn, 5 
 £) mctne§ £eben§ Qotbnc 3eit? 
 f8crgeben§, betne SSeUcn eilcn 
 «^inab {n§ SRcer ber ©vioigfeit. 
 
 @rlofd)Ctt ftnb bie l^eitevn ©onnen, 
 
 S5ic nteinev Sugcnb ^fab eri)eEt5 lo 
 
 £)te Sbeale ftnb seaonneti/ 
 
 Sie einfi ba§ trunfne .^cvj 9efd)TOeUt; 
 
 140 
 
)0 U XI 1 Ju Ju JCJC ri« 
 
 THE IDEAL. 
 
 A ND will ye thus desert me quite 
 
 With all your glowing phantasy ? 
 With all your pangs, your keen delight, 
 Oh will ye thus, relentless, fly ? 
 
 Can nought persuade ye ? nought delay, 5 
 
 Oh golden days of youthful bliss ? 
 
 'Tis vain ! the waves have forced their way 
 
 To join th' eternal Past's abyss. 
 
 Quench'd are the suns, whose cloudless rays 
 My path of youth and fancy blest ; lo 
 
 Sunk the high thoughts, whose gen'rous blaze 
 With joyous frenzy fired my breast. 
 
 141 
 
@r iji ba{)in, bcr fupe ®kube 
 
 2Cn 3Befen, bie mein A^vaum gebar, 
 
 25cr vaui)ett S3Sir!Ud)feif jum 9iaube, 15 
 
 SSSaS einji fo fc[)on, fo gottttd) vcar. 
 
 SEBic cittfi mit fle|)cnt)em SBerlangen 
 ^i)gmaUon ben ©tein «mfcl)top, 
 95i§ in beS 9Warmor§ faltc SGBangen 
 @m:pftnbung gtu{)enb ftd) ergofi, 20 
 
 ©0 fd)kng id) mici) mit 8tcbe§armen 
 Urn bie '<Ratvix, mit Sugenbtup, 
 58i§ fte ju atijmen, 5U crwarmen 
 aSegann an meincr S)i(i)terbvuji, 
 
 Unb, tt)eilenb meine Stanimentricbc, 25 
 
 Sie ©tumme eine (5^3vad)c fanb, 
 Win wiebergab ben ^up ber fiiebc 
 Unb meine§ .^erjenS ^tang oerftanb; 
 
 142 
 
'Tis gone, the hope to find indeed 
 
 Those creatures of my early dream ; 
 
 And stem realities succeed 15 
 
 What used so heavenly bright to seem. 
 
 As round the stone with fond desire 
 
 Pygmalion threw his eager arms. 
 
 Till the cold marble's answering fire 
 
 Glow'd in her cheek with tenfold charms j 20 
 
 To Nature thus, with arms of love. 
 Entranced I clung, till, fondly press' d. 
 The Goddess seem'd to breathe, to move. 
 To warm beneath my poet-breast. 
 
 With kindling fire she seem'd to bum, 25 
 
 To speak in accents soft and sweet ; 
 
 My glowing kisses to return, 
 
 Throb heart to heart, and beat for beat. 
 
 143 
 
®a tebte mir ber SSaum, bie Stofe, 
 
 SD?ir fang ber Sluetten ©ttberfaU, 30 
 
 e§ fut)Ue felbjl ba§ ©eetcnlofc 
 
 Son mcincS £ebcn§ SBiebertjalt. 
 
 ©§ bct)nte mit aUmdd)t'gcm ©treben 
 15ic enge SBvujlt ein frei^cnb M, 
 ^erauSjutrcten in ba§ fieben, 35 
 
 Sn 2:{)at unb SBovt, in SBilb unb (Sd)atl[. 
 
 SCBie gro.f war biefc SBelt gcjialtet, 
 
 ©0 lang bie ^nofpc ftc nod) barg^ 
 
 SBie wenig, ad)! t)at ftd) entfaltet, 
 
 ®ie§ 2Benige, wte ftein unb farg! 40 
 
 SSie fprang, »on fut)nem SJtutt) beflugelt, 
 aSegludt in feineS STraumeS 2Bat)n; 
 SSon feincr ®orge nod) gejugelt, 
 Ser Sungling in be§ gebcn§ Sat)n. 
 
 144 
 
Then grove and field with life were fraught ; 
 With life the flashing waters sang j 30 
 
 Ev'n soulless things my feeling caught. 
 And forth a new creation sprang. 
 
 How swell'd my bosom^s narrow space ! 
 
 A boundless world of thought was there [ 
 
 I panted to begin my race, 35 
 
 To see, to feel, to do, to dare ! 
 
 How glorious seem'd this world of ours, 
 
 While but the op'ning buds were seen ! 
 
 How few are now th' expanded flow'rs, 
 
 And ev'n those few, how poor and mean ! 40 
 
 How, winged with hope, with ardour bless'd, 
 Unchill'd by doubt, unchecked by dread. 
 The young enthusiast onward press'd. 
 His fiery path of life to tread ! 
 
 145 
 
93i§ an t)c6 3fett)ec§ bleid)ftc ©ternc 45 
 
 @f|)ob if)n bet (Sntwurfe Slug; 
 9'lid)t§ tt?ar fo t)od) unb nict)t6 fo feme, 
 S5Sol)tn il)r Slugcl il)n nic{)t trug. 
 
 SBie lctd)t warb er bat)in getragen, 
 
 SBaS war bem ®tucEUd)en ju fd)tt)er ! 50 
 
 SSic tanjte »ot; be§ SebenS SBagen, 
 
 S)ie luftige aSegteitung t)er! 
 
 Sie Siebe mit bem fupen 2o{)ne, 
 S)a§ ®lucE mit feinem gotbnen ^ranS/ 
 Ser 9{it{)m mif feincr ©ternenfrone, 55 
 
 ©ie SSaI)r{)eit in ber Sonne (Slanj! 
 
 Sod), a6)l fd)on auf be§ aBege§ Wittt 
 
 ^erloren bic Scgleiter ftd), 
 
 ©ic wanbten treuloS i{)ve ©d)ntte, 
 
 Unb etner nad) bem anbern wid)* 60 
 
 146 
 
Above the farthest, palest star, 45 
 
 On Fancy's soaring wings he flew ; 
 Was nought so high, was nought so far, 
 To check his flight, to bound his view ! 
 
 How easy seemed each toilsome strife ! 
 
 What might he hope, and hope in vain ? 50 
 
 Around his chariot-wheels of life 
 
 How cheerly danc'd the joyous train ! 
 
 Fortune, with golden chaplets dress'dj 
 
 Young Love, with all his sweet romance ; 
 
 And star-crown'd Glory's haughty crest ; 55 
 
 And radiant Truth, with sunbeam glance. 
 
 But long ere half the way was done. 
 My gay companions all were flown ; 
 They turnM aside, and, one by one, 
 Forsook me, cheerless and alone. 6o 
 
 147 
 
3t\iM. 
 
 8eid)tfufig war ba§ ®iM cntflogen, 
 
 Se§ 
 
 SBiffenS S)«tji bticb ungcjiiEt, 
 
 S)c§ 
 
 3wctfel§ finjlre ^dUt jogcn 
 
 <Si6) 
 
 «m bcr 2Ba'f)rI)eit ©onnenbtlb. 
 
 Sd) fat) be§ 9tut)mc§ t)eil*9e ^rdnje 65 
 
 3Cuf 
 
 bcr gcweinen ©tirn* mtmii)U 
 
 ^cf), 
 
 alljufd)nc'ff, nad) furjem Smje 
 
 ©ntfloi) bie fd)6ne SiebcSjeit! 
 
 Unb 
 
 iuitner jiitter tt)arb*§ unb immev 
 
 93crlaffner auf bem rauljcn @feg; 70 
 
 ^aum voatf nod) einen bleid)en @d)tmnter 
 
 '^u 
 
 .^offnung auf ben ft'njtern 2Beg. 
 
 SJon all bem raufd)enben ©etctte 
 
 SfBer 
 
 ))axtU Uebenb bei mir au§? 
 
 2Ber 
 
 ftetjt mir trofienb nod) jur ©eite 75 
 
 Unb 
 
 folgt mir bi§ ftnpern ^m^^ 
 
 148 
 
 
Soon, light of foot, was Fortune fled : 
 Unquench'd the thirst of knowledge staid ; 
 And clouds of douht began to spread 
 Round Truth's fair front their envious shade. 
 
 I saw on vulgar brows profan'd 65 
 
 The laurel wreath that Glory wore ; 
 Love's young romance awhile remain' d, 
 Then faded, to return no more. 
 
 And darker stUl and drearier grew 
 
 Around my steps the lonely way : TO 
 
 Ev'n Hope, the ling'rer, scarcely threw. 
 
 To cheer my path, a glimmering ray. 
 
 Of all that swell'd my youthful pride. 
 
 Who now remain'd to light the gloom ? 
 
 Who still adher'd my faithful guide, 75 
 
 My trust, my comfort, to the tomb ? 
 
 149 
 
S)u, bic bu atle SSunben l)eitej?, 
 
 S5ev* Sreunbfd)aft leife, ^axU JQani, 
 
 Sc§ £eben§ 93urben Ucbenb tl)eilc|l, 
 
 S)u, bic ic() frut)e f«d)t* unb fanb* so 
 
 ttnb bu, bie gern fid) mit tt)t gaftet, 
 2Bie ftc, ber (Seelc ©turm befd)n)ort, 
 Scfd)dftigung, bie nie ttmatUt, 
 Die kngfam fd)a|ft; bod) nie jerjiort, 
 
 S5ie 5U bem S3au ber ©wigfeiten 85 
 
 3w>ar (Sanbforn nur fur @anb!orn reid)t, 
 £iod) »on ber gvofen ®d)ulb bcv Seiten 
 9Rinufen, Sage, Sat)i"e ftreid)t. 
 
 150 
 
Thou, whose soft hand and tender care 
 
 Can lull to rest each fever'd wound ; 
 
 Thou, Friendship, sent our woes to share ! 
 
 Thou, fondly sought, and early found ! so 
 
 And thou, with Friendship well comhin'd. 
 Like her, the passions' storm to lay ; 
 Employment, form'd the tortur'd mind 
 With soher, gradual force to sway. 
 
 And though thy noiseless, stealthy pace 85 
 
 But grain by grain its progress makes ; 
 Yet from the future's boundless space 
 Thus hours, and days, and years, it takes. 
 
 1825. 
 
 151 
 
nv&i AtY Jfrau^n. 
 
 ©t)ret bie f^wuett! fte fled^ten unb weben 
 .:^imtntifd)e Siofcn in§ irt)tfd)e fieben, 
 gted)ten bcv. Stcbc beglucfenbeS SBanb, 
 Unb in ber ©rajie 5ud)tigem ©d)leier 
 Sfldljten fte wact)fam ba§ ewige ^euer 5 
 
 ©d^oner @cfut)te mit IjeiUger .^anb. 
 
 ©wig au§ bev SSJaljrljeit (Sd)ranfcn 
 ®d)wcift be§ 9Ranne§ witbe ^raft^ 
 Un§tdt treiben bie ©ebanfcn 
 3Cuf bem ^ttx ber £eibenfd)aft 5 10 
 
 ©terig greift cr in bie gevnc, 
 gflimmej; wirb fein ^erj gejiiEt} 
 StajiloS burd) enttegne ©tcvnc 
 Sagt et feincS 5Ivaume§ S3itb. 
 
 152 
 
HONOUR TO WOMAN. 
 
 All honour to "Woman ! to her it is giv'n 
 
 To entwine with Earth's garlands the roses of Heav'n ; 
 
 To weave all the bliss-giving chains of the heart ; 
 
 And in Modesty's veil while she chastely retires. 
 
 To kindle the brightest, the holiest fires, 5 
 
 The pure beam of feeling that ne'er can depart. 
 
 Man's wild soul, in fierce commotion, 
 
 Still beyond the bounds of reason, 
 
 Varies like the varying season, 
 
 Tost on Passion's stormy ocean. lO 
 
 On the future still he gazes. 
 
 Ne'er contented, still aspiring. 
 
 Still some phantom good desiring. 
 
 Which his dreaming fancy raises. 
 
 153 
 
3(ber mit jaubcrifcf) fejfelnbem 95ltcfe I5 
 
 SBinfen bte %xamn bem SI«ii)tting jurucfc, 
 SBarnenb ^uxM in ber ©cgenwart <B)pnx, 
 Sn ber SKuttev befd)eibener .^utte 
 ©inb ftc geblieben mif fd^atnt)aftcr <Sittc, 
 SSreue Zb6)tix ber frommen Statur, 20 
 
 gcinblii^ ij! be§ SRanne§ ©trebcn, 
 Mit sermalmenbev (Bixoalt 
 ®et)t ber n>itbe burd) baS Seben, 
 Dtjne mft unb 3Cufent{)alt. 
 S5Sa6 er fd)uf, jerjlort er wicber, 25 
 
 ^ftintmer xvi)t ber 2Bunfd)e ©trctt, 
 Glimmer, wie ba§ .§a«:pt ber ^t)ber 
 @tt>ig fdEf unb ftd) erneut. 
 
 2Cber, jufrieben mit liitterem 9tut)ttic, 
 §8recf)ett bte ^rauen beS 3CugenbUdf§ Slunte, 
 fllai)xttt fte forgfam mit liebenbem §teif, 31 
 
 154 
 
But the soft voice of woman's all-eloquent glance is 
 Calls the wanderer home from his wearisome trance ; 
 To the present recalls him, no longer to roam. 
 To the path, to the cot, where, contented to rest, 
 Her thoughts, like herself, have been tranquilly blest. 
 True daughter of Nature, the sweet'ner of Home ! 20 
 
 Man, 'mid storms, and wrath, and strife, 
 
 Breaking with resistless force 
 
 All that bars his headlong course. 
 
 Hurries down his path of life ; 
 
 Slaves to each capricious* mood, 25 
 
 Still his feverish wishes flow ; 
 
 Still, like Hydra's heads they grow, 
 
 Still destroy'd, and still renew'd. 
 
 But "Woman, with milder enjoyment contented. 
 Plucks the bloom of each hour in succession presented ; 
 'Mid cares that distract not, but sweetly employ, 31 
 
 155 
 
^xtm in i^um gebunbenen SStcfen, 
 9leid)cr, alS cv, in be§ 2iBi(|cn§ SSejtrfen 
 Unb in ber 25id)tun9 unenbtid)cm ^rei6, 
 
 ©treng unb jJolj, ftc^ felbji genugcnb, 35 
 ^ennt bc§ 5Wanne§ fattc SBruji, 
 ^crjUiJ) an cin t^crj ftc^ fc()micgenb^ 
 S«id)t bcr Siebe (S5ttertuft 
 Rennet nid)t ben SXaufd) ber ©celcn, 
 9'licf)t in ^tjrdnen fd)mit5t er tjinj 40 
 (Sclbji be§ £eben6 ^dm|)fc |id()lcn 
 .^drter fcinen f)ai;tcn ©inn. 
 
 3Cbet;, wie leife »om 3ept)t)r erfct)^tterf, 
 ©d)neU bic dolifd)e .^arfc erjittcrt, 
 3(tfo bic fut)tenbc ©eele ber ^rau. 45 
 
 Sdrttici) gedngjiigt »om 93ilbe ber Sludlen, 
 SBatlet ber tiebenbe SSufcn, e§ jira'^len 
 ^erlenb bie 3Cugen won l)immUfd)ein S£t)au. 
 
 156 
 
fmmx ta Mmm. 
 
 More ricli and more free in her limited sphere. 
 Than he in his wisdom^s, his glory's career. 
 And all the wide circle of fanciful joy. 
 
 Cold of heart, and stern of eye, 35 
 
 Haughty man can never know 
 
 All the mutual charms that flow 
 
 From the heart's mysterious tie, 
 
 From the soul's unfetter'd union ; 
 
 He who melts not, weeps not, steel'd 40 
 
 By the storms, the strife reveal'd 
 
 In the world's unhlest communion. 
 
 But ev'n as the harp, when the zephyr's light wings 
 Play with fluttering dehght o'er its tremulous strings. 
 So the warm heart of Woman to feeling replies ; 45 
 
 Her smile casts a gleam upon Misery's hues. 
 Her breast heaves with sorrow, and Heaven's own dews 
 Are the tear-drops of pity, that steal from her eyes. 
 
 157 
 
Sn ber 9}?dnner ^errfd)gcbtete 
 
 ®ilt ber (Stdrfc frolig 9tecJ)t; 50 
 
 SWit bcm ©d^wert bewetjlt ber ®ci)tl)e, 
 
 Unb ber ^erfer wtrb gum .Sncd)t. 
 
 ®§ befel)ben ftd) im ®rimme 
 
 S)ie SBcgietbcn wilb unb rot), 
 
 Unb ber @ri§ raul)e ©ttmme 55 
 
 Sattet, tt)o bic (5i)ari§ flot> 
 
 3(bcr mtt fanj! uberrebcnbcr ^itU 
 Su|)ren btc Srauen ben ©ce^jter ber fBitte, 
 2ofrf)en bie Bnjietracf)t, bie tobenb entgluijt, 
 £e:^ren bie ^rdftc, bie feinbtid) ft'd) tjaffen, 60 
 (Sid) in ber liebtid)ett Sorm ju umfaffen, 
 Unb ijcreinen, waS cwig ft'd) fliet)t. 
 
 — ?-«*eif*se*iMe5^- 
 
 158 
 
Mux is Mmm. 
 
 Man, tyrannically brave. 
 
 Tyrant force alone obeys ; 50 
 
 By the sword tbe Scythian sways. 
 
 And the Persian lives a slave. 
 
 Still within his troubled breast 
 
 Passions wild and fierce are raging ; 
 
 And their angry battle waging, 55 
 
 Banish peace, and love, and rest. 
 
 ^Tis for Woman's dear pleading to soften the soul. 
 
 To wield the mild sceptre of moral control ; 
 
 To quench the fierce embers of passion ; to call 
 
 On the strong arm of pow'r its dissensions to end ; 60 
 
 Each jarring material in unison blend. 
 
 Compose the wild discord, and harmonise all ! 
 
 1823. 
 
 159 
 
ilitt^r W-^QunhuvQ, 
 
 oJS^o*— 
 
 f/dtitUx, treue (Sd)tt)ejlerUebe 
 
 „SiBibinet eucl) bieS .^^crj; 
 //^otbcrt fcinc antxt Siebe, 
 
 „S)enn c§ mad)t tnit (Sd)merj. 
 
 ,^9{:ut)tg tnag id) eu^ crfd)einen, 5 
 
 „Stu^Q gci)en fel)n, 
 „eurej; JCugen jliCeS 2Beinen 
 
 „^ann id) nid)t »crjiet)n." 
 
 Unt) er t)6tt*S mit fiutnmem ^avme, 
 sRcift ftc^ blutenb to6, lo 
 
 ^rept ftc {)eftig in bie 3Ctme, 
 <B6)VoxnQt \i6) auf fein Stop, 
 
 160 
 
THE CHIEF OE TOGGENBURG. 
 
 " Chieftain, a sister's love for thee 
 
 This breast shall still retain ; 
 But ask none other love of me ; 
 
 Thou wouldst not give me pain ? 
 
 " I feel no throb when thy form appears, 5 
 
 Unmov'd, I see thee go; 
 And the pang that fills thine eyes with tears, 
 
 I do not, cannot know." 
 
 Speechless he heard with grief suppress'd ; 
 
 Then with bitter feeling stung, 10 
 
 He clasp'd her once to his throbbing breast. 
 
 And then on his steed he sprung. 
 
 161 M 
 
®c^t(ft 5U feinen SKannen attcn 
 
 Sn bem 2anbe <B6)Wdy, 
 '^a6) bent i)eil*gen (Srab fte walten, I5 
 
 3Cuf ber S5rujl ba6 ^reuj. 
 
 ®rofc S£t)aten borf gcfc()et)en 
 
 ©urd) ber ^etben 3Crm; 
 SI)tc§ ^etme§ 93ufrf)e wel^en 
 
 Sn ber ^mit (Sd)»arm; 20 
 
 Unb be§ SoggenburgerS SJiamc 
 
 @d)retft ben 9)?ufetniann 5 
 Sod) ba§ .^erj »on feinem ©rarne 
 
 9lid)t gcnefen fann, 
 
 Unb ein Sa^r l)at er*S getragen, 25 
 
 Srrdgt*§ nid)t Idnger me^r 5 
 Stufyt fann et nid)t erjagen 
 
 Unb Derldpt ba§ ^^eerj 
 
 162 
 
f |e €^M Bl fupnten. 
 
 He hath summon'd his vassals, one and all. 
 
 Through the whole of Switzerland; 
 With the Cross on their hreast, they are gone at his call 
 
 To fight in the Holy Land. 16 
 
 And the might of that Warrior's arm was shown 
 By his deeds on that blood-stain'd coast. 
 
 And well that Warrior's plume was known 
 
 In the ranks of the Paynim host. 20 
 
 And Toggenburg was a name of dread 
 
 That made the Moslem quail. 
 But inly that Warrior's bosom bled 
 
 With a wound that nought could heal. 
 
 A long, long year he hath borne his pain, 25 
 
 He can bear it now no more ; 
 He finds no rest on the battle-plain. 
 
 And he quits the holy shore. 
 
 163 
 
©ie{)t ein ®d)ijf an SoppeS Stranbe, 
 
 ®a§ bie (Segel bldt)t, 30 
 
 (Sd)ijtet I)eim jum t^euren 2anbc, 
 
 Unb an it)rc§ @d)toffe§ ^forte 
 
 Mo)(i^ ber ^ilgcr anj 
 3Cd), unb mit bem Sonnerworte 35 
 
 SBtrb ftc auf9ctt)an: 
 
 ,;Ste ii)i; fud)et, trdgt ben ®d)tctcr, 
 
 ,,Sft be§ ^itttmet§ SScaut, 
 „(Sej!ern war beS Sage§ geier, 
 
 „S)cr fte ®oft gefrauf 40 
 
 Sa Berldffet cr auf immer 
 
 ©eincr SSdter (Sd)tof, 
 Seine SBajfen ft'etjt er nimmcv, 
 
 S^torf) fcin tteueS 9iof» 
 
 164 
 
%\t ([>\uf at Sirggmtarg. 
 
 He hath found a ship on Joppa's strand. 
 
 He hath spread the willing sail ; 30 
 
 And home he is gone to his own dear land, 
 ^ Where blew the fav'ring gale. 
 
 The Pilgrim came to the Lady's hall ; 
 
 He knocks at the Castle gate j 
 And the words on his ear like thunder fall, 35 
 
 That tell him he comes too late : 
 
 " The maid you seek the veil has ta'en, 
 
 She is now the Bride of Heav'n ; 
 And yestermom at the holy fane 
 
 Her plight to God was giv'n." 40 
 
 He has left for ever the Castle Hall, 
 
 Where his fathers dwelt of yore ; 
 He lists no more to the trumpet's call. 
 
 He looks on his steed no more. 
 
 165 
 
^t\iM, 
 
 SSon bet Sloggenburg tjerniebet: 
 
 45 
 
 ©teigt cr unbcfannt, 
 
 
 2)enn cS becEt bie ebeln ©Uebcr 
 
 
 <^drene§ ©cwanb. 
 
 
 Unb erbaut fid) cine •^utte 
 
 
 Sencr ©cgenb nol), 
 
 50 
 
 SSBo ba§ ^lofiev au§ ber SKitte 
 
 
 SJujirer &inben faf); 
 
 
 .^arrenb won beS S)?orgen§ 8id)te 
 
 
 §8t§ ju 3Cbenb§ (Sd)ein, 
 
 
 ©tiUc ^offnung im ®cftd)tc, 
 
 55 
 
 ®a^ cr ba aUein. 
 
 
 SBUcEte nad) bem ^lofier bruben, 
 
 
 aSUcfte jiunbenldng 
 
 
 S^tad) bem ^enjier feiner fiicbeti; 
 
 
 St§ ba§ genjier flang, 
 
 60 
 
 166 
 
 
%^i €\kf sf f ffgpbwg. 
 
 He pass'd fiom Toggenburg's stately height, 45 
 
 Unmark'd he passed, and alone; 
 For a vest of hair, 'stead of armour bright, 
 
 O'er his manly hmbs was thrown. 
 
 And there he hath built him a lowly hut 
 
 Beneath the sacred chimes ; so 
 
 Where the walls of the bosom'd convent jut 
 From a grove of shady limes. 
 
 And there from the early dawn of day 
 
 Till the star of ev'ning shone, 
 Hope tinging his cheek with a sickly ray, 55 
 
 The Warrior sat alone. 
 
 His eye was fix'd on the Convent above. 
 
 And the live-long day did he wait. 
 And gaze on the window that held his Love, 
 
 Till he heard the window grate : 60 
 
 167 
 
Si6 bie 2tebli4)e ftd) jeigte, 
 
 ©id) in§ Si)al t)eruntev neigte, 
 9iu{)tg, cngelmilb* 
 
 Unb bann tegt^ er frol) ftd) nieber, 65 
 
 ©d)lief getroflet ein, 
 (Stitt ftd) freucnb, wenn e§ njieber 
 
 SJforgett wurbe feim 
 
 Unb fo faf cr »tete ZaQt, 
 
 @af »iel Sa't)t:c tang, 70 
 
 .^arrenb ot)nc @d)met:j unb ^tage, 
 
 a3i§ ba§ genfter flang, 
 
 S5i§ bie £icbtid)e ftd) jeigte, 
 
 S3i6 ba§ tt)euve 58ilb 
 ®id) in§ S£t)at t)erunter neigtc, 75 
 
 £Rul)ig, engelmitb* 
 
 168 
 
Till that lov'd one's form from the window leant. 
 
 Till he saw her placid hrow, 
 And her angel-smile of meek content. 
 
 As she look'd on the vale below. 
 
 And then would he turn to his lowly bed, 65 
 
 And peacefully sleep the night. 
 Rejoicing stiU when the morning shed 
 
 Its beams of returning light. 
 
 And many a day, and many a year. 
 
 The Warrior there did wait, 70 
 
 Without a murmur, without a tear. 
 
 Till he heard the window grate : 
 
 Till that lov'd one's form from the window leant. 
 
 Till he saw her placid brow. 
 And her angel-smile of meek content, 75 
 
 As she look'd on the vale below. 
 
Unb fo fap n, eine 2eid)e, 
 
 eine§ SJJorgenS ba; 
 Slad) bem Senjlec nod) baS bleic^c 
 
 ©tiUe 3CntH| fa:(). so. 
 
 o.^'^ H y ' Q-^-^ 
 
 (Set)t it)i; bort bie attcrgrauen 
 
 ©d)t6jTcr ftd) cntgegcnfd)auen, 
 
 £c«d)tcnb in ber Sonne ®olb, 
 
 SBo bcr ^eflcs^jont bie SBellen 
 
 SSraufenb burd) ber Sarbanellen 5 
 
 ^d^)^ Sclfen^jforte roUt? 
 
 ^kt i^x jene SStanbung jiurmen/ 
 
 ®ie ftd) an ben Sctfen bvid)t? 
 
 3(ften rip fte »on ©uroipenj 
 
 S)od) bie £iebe fd)re(ft fte nid)t. lo 
 
 170 
 
%\i Cpff flf fffpnteg. 
 
 And there one morning, stiff and chill. 
 
 He was found a corpse at last ; 
 And the gaze of his cold, fix'd eye was still 
 
 On that Convent window cast. 80 
 
 1825. 
 
 HERO AND LEANDER. 
 
 See how each on other gaze 
 Yon grey tow'rs of elder days, 
 In the golden sunshine glowing, 
 Where the Hellespontine waves 
 Brawling through the rock-girt caves 5 
 
 Of the Dardanelles are flowing. 
 Hear'st thou how the breakers thunder ? 
 How the storm-rent cliffs are shivering ? 
 Europe here from Asia severing. 
 Love they could not tear asunder. lo 
 
 171 
 
^ero§ itnb fieanbcrS .^erjen 
 
 St&l)xU mit bem ^feit ber (Sd)merjen 
 
 2Cntov6 i)etl*ge ®ottet;mad)t» 
 
 i^ero, fd)6n tvic .^ebc btui)enb, 
 
 (Sr burd) bie (Bebirge 5iet)enb 15 
 
 Stuj^ig im ©eraufd) ber Sagb. 
 
 Sod) ber SSdter fcinblid) Surneti 
 
 Srennte ba§ »erbunbne ^aar, 
 
 Unb bic fupe Srud)t ber Siebc 
 
 .^ing ant JCbgvunb ber ®efal)r. 20 
 
 Sort auf ©cftoS* Selfentt)urme, 
 Sen mit ett>*gcm SSogenjIurme 
 (Scl)dumenb fct)td9t ber .^ellefpont, 
 ©af bie Sungfrau, einfam grauenb, 
 m6) 3Cbi)bo§* M§tc fc{)auenb, 25 
 
 2So ber «^eifgeliebte wo^nU 
 3Cd), ju bem entfernten (Stranbc 
 SSaut fid) feiner SSrucEe ©teg, 
 Unb fein gai)r5eug jlopt »ont Ufer; 
 Sod) bie Sicbe fanb ben SBeg* so 
 
 172 
 
|m m)s f wnhr. 
 
 Hero's and Leander's hearts. 
 
 With his sweetly-painful darts, 
 
 Love, the mighty god, had fir'd ; 
 
 She, as Hebe, fair and young ; 
 
 He, in health and vigour strong, 15 
 
 In the mountain-chase acquired. 
 
 But their fathers' feuds had blighted 
 
 All their hopes of wedded bliss ; 
 
 And o'er danger's dark abyss 
 
 Hung the fruit that Love had plighted. 20 
 
 There, on Sestos' fortress-rock. 
 Where with ceaseless tempest-shock 
 Hellespont in fury swells ; 
 Sat the maid, alone and sighing, 
 Far Abydos vainly eyeing, 25 
 
 Where the fondly-worshipp'd dwells. 
 Ah ! that stormy sea above 
 Rose no bridge from shore to shore ; 
 Path was none the dark waves o'er ; 
 But the way was found by Love. 30 
 
 173 
 
3CuS be§ 8abprtntl)e6 ^fabcn 
 
 fieitef fte mit ftd)et:in gaben, 
 
 3(ud) ben S5l6ben mad)t ftc ftug, 
 
 SSeugt in§ Sod) bic wilben Si)ierc, 
 
 @:pannt bic fcuerfprut)nben (Stierc 35 
 
 2ttt ben biamantnen ^flug. 
 
 ©elbji ber <Sti));, ber neunfad) fliepet, 
 
 ©ci)Uept bie SBagenbe nid)t a«§; 
 
 gKdd)ti9 raubt ftc ba§ ©etiebtc 
 
 3(u§ bc§ ^luto ftnlHem ^au§. 40 
 
 3fud) burd) be§ ©ewdfferS Slutt)en 
 9)?tt ber (Sel)nfud)t fcur^gcn ®luti)cn 
 ©tad)ett ftc £eanbci;§ SRutt). 
 SBcnn bcS Sage§ I)eacr (Sd)imiticr 
 95leid)et, jlurjt bcv fu^^ne !Sd)Wimnicr 45 
 Sn bc§ ^ontu§ finjlrc Slutt), 
 2;i)eiU mit ftarfem 3(rm bie SBogc, 
 ©tvebenb nacf) bent tl)cuven ©tvanb, 
 2Bo, anf Ijoljent <S6Uev leudjtcnb, 
 SSSinft bet gacEct I)eUer §8ranb. 50 
 
 174 
 
LovCj who taught by faithful thread 
 
 Greta's labyrinth to tread : 
 
 LovBj who warms the dullest souls : 
 
 He the brute creation rules ; 
 
 And the fiery-breathing bulls 35 
 
 With his iron yoke controls. 
 
 E'en the Styx^ that nine-fold flow'd, 
 
 Could not check his vent'rous pride ; 
 
 Could not guard, at Pluto's side, 
 
 Th' Empress of his drear abode. 40 
 
 Love, and youth's impetuous blood. 
 Through the Hellespontine flood 
 Led Leander to his bride. 
 When more pale began to glimmer 
 Fading day, the hardy swimmer 45 
 
 Plung'd amid the foaming tide : 
 Stoutly stemm'd the dark waves might 
 Straining to the friendly shore. 
 When, to guide the wand'rer o'er, 
 Flash'd the wakeful beacon light. so 
 
 175 
 
Bt\iM, 
 
 Unb in m\6)tn 2iebe§armett 
 
 ®arf ber @lu(Stict)e erwarmen 
 
 SSon ber ^6)mx bejianbnen Sat)t;t, 
 
 Unb ben @6ttcrlot)n en^jfangen, 
 
 Sen in feligem Umfangen 55 
 
 St)ni bie Siebe aufgefpart, 
 
 58iS ben ©dumenben Aurora 
 
 2Cu§ ber SBonnc SSrdumen wecft, 
 
 Unb in§ Mte §8ett be§ SKeereS 
 
 3Cu§ bent (Sd)oop ber fiiebe fd)recft. 60 
 
 Unb fo floljen breipig ©onnen 
 
 @d)nell(, im dtmh »erjlol)tner SSonnen 
 
 S)em beglu(ften ^aar bal)in, 
 
 SSJie ber S5rautnad)t fupe Sreuben, 
 
 25ie bie ©otter fetbji beneiben, 65 
 
 @tt)ig jung unb ewig gvun. 
 
 3)er f)at nie ba6 ®lud gefojiet, 
 
 2)cr bie Srud)t be§ .^immelS nid)t 
 
 Staubenb an be§ .^ottenfluffcS 
 
 ©d)auerBoUem Sianbe brid)t. 70 
 
 176 
 
Therej by glowing Love carest. 
 
 Sweetly, fondly shall he rest, 
 
 From his journey hard and long ; 
 
 There in mutual bliss embrac'd, 
 
 He the heavenly joys shall taste, 55 
 
 Which to Love alone belong : 
 
 Till the morn the ling'rers wake. 
 
 And their dreams of transport chase ; 
 
 And for Ocean's cold embrace 
 
 Bid him those soft arms forsake. 60 
 
 Thus, amid their stol'n delight. 
 
 Thirty times the orb of light 
 
 O'er his course too swiftly flew ; 
 
 Rapt'rous as the bridal hours. 
 
 Envied by th' immortal pow'rs, 65 
 
 Ever young, and ever new. 
 
 Happiness has ne'er been his. 
 
 Who has never, where it stood 
 
 On the verge of Hell's black flood, 
 
 Pluck'd the heav'nly fruit of bliss. ro 
 
 177 
 
^tfpn unb 2(utora jogen 
 
 a©ec{)felnl) auf am ^immet§bogen ; 
 
 S)od) bie mMl\<i)m, fte fal)n 
 
 9tid)t ben <S6)mud ber flatter fatlen, 
 
 '3li6)t an§i SJiorbS beei^ten .fatten 75 
 
 S)en ergrimmten SBinter nal)n. 
 
 Sreubig fat)en fte be§ SlageS 
 
 Stnmcr furjern, furjern ^ret§; 
 
 gur ba§ Idngere ©lucf ber 9fldd)te 
 
 S)anften fte bctt)6rt bem Seu§. so 
 
 Unb c§ 9letd)te frf)on bie SSage 
 
 3Cn bem .^immel 9'idd)t^ unb Sage, 
 
 Unb bie I)otbe Sunfrau j!anb 
 
 .^arrenb auf bem Selfenfct)loffe, 
 
 ©al) t)inab bie ©onncnrojfe 85 
 
 Stietjen an be§ .^immel§ Stanb. 
 
 Unb ba§ 9)Jeer tag fiill unb eben, 
 
 @inem veinen ©pieget gleid), 
 
 Seines SSSinbcS teife§ SBcben 
 
 Stegte baS frpftattne IReid). 90 
 
 178 
 
On the Earth by turns arose 
 
 Mom, and dewy evening's close : 
 
 They, in heedless transports lost, 
 
 Marked not how the leaves were falling, 
 
 Mark'd not how stern Boreas, brawling, 75 
 
 Usher'd in the Winter's frost : 
 
 Gladly saw the hours of light 
 
 Shorter yet, and shorter grow. 
 
 Blessing Heav'n with many a vow. 
 
 For the lengthened joys of night. 80 
 
 Soon the balance equal lay 
 In the sky 'twixt night and day ; 
 And the Maiden still at even 
 Watch'd upon the fortress' height. 
 When the fiei-y steeds of light 85 
 
 Sank beneath the verge of Heav'n. 
 And the sea lay still and sleeping 
 As a polish'd mirror sheen ; 
 O'er th' expanse of crystal green. 
 Not a breath of Zephyr sweeping. 9o 
 
 179 
 
SujUigc Sel:pt)inenfd)aarcn 
 
 @d)erjten in bem ftlt)eftaven, 
 
 Sfteinen Element «mt)er, 
 
 Unb in fd)tt)dr5tid) gvauen Sugen, 
 
 3Cu& bem SKeergrunb aufgcjlicgen, 95 
 
 ^am bcr Sctt)t)§ bunte§ ^eer. 
 
 ®ic, bie ©njigen, bejeugten 
 
 2)en »erfiot)lnen fiiebe&bunb; 
 
 %ha tt)ncn fd)lof auf ewig 
 
 i^efate ben fiummen a)?unb. loo 
 
 Unb ftc fceute ftc^ be§ fd)6nen 
 9)feere§, unb mit @d)nieid)ett6nen 
 @:pmd) fte ju bem Element: 
 „<B6)bnn ®otf, bu foEtcfi trugen? 
 Stein, ben Sve»ter firaf* idb 2ugen, 105 
 S5et: bid) falfd) unb treuloS nennt. 
 Salfd) ip ba§ ®efc^led)t ber gKenfd)en,] 
 ©taufam ifi ti^ SSater§ ^erjj 
 3Cbet: bu bifi milb unb gittig, 
 Unb bid) rut)rt ber fitebe @d)merj." iio 
 
 180 
 
Frolic shoals of dolphins here 
 
 Up and down amid the clear 
 
 Silver-flashing waters play'd : 
 
 There amid the sea-shore rocks, 
 
 Thetis' darkly-shining flocks 95 
 
 On the oozy sand were laid. 
 
 And to these alone revealed 
 
 Were the secret vows of Love : 
 
 These, whose lips the Pow'rs above 
 
 Had in endless silence sealed. loo 
 
 And with joy her bosom swell'd. 
 
 As in flattering tone she held 
 
 Converse with the laughing Sea : 
 
 " Glorious God, canst thou deceive ? 
 
 No, I ne'er will him believe, 105 
 
 Who with falsehood taxes thee. 
 
 Harsh is oft a father's care. 
 
 False and treacherous mankind ; 
 
 Thou alone art ever kind ; 
 
 Thou canst feel for Love's despair. i lo 
 
 181 
 
f/^n ben oben Setfcnmaucvn 
 
 Wiu^V id) freut)lo§ einfant trauern 
 
 Unb »erblut)n in ew^gem i^armj 
 
 ®od) bu trdgji auf bcinem Sludcn; 
 
 £)f)nc 9iad)en, oljne SBrutEen, ii5 
 
 5Wir ben ^reunb in meinen 3(rni. 
 
 ®rauen»oU iji beine Siefc, 
 
 Surd)tt)ar beiner SBogen %lvLt1), 
 
 "Kbit bict) erflet)t bic fiiebc, 
 
 2)trf) bejwingt ber ^elbenmutl)." 120 
 
 „25enn aud) bid), ben ®ott ber SBogen, 
 
 9iuf)vte SroS mdd)t*9er SSogen, 
 
 2(16 be6 golbnen 2Bibbcr§ Slug 
 
 .^cUc, ntit bem Sruber fliet)enb, 
 
 (Sd)6n in SugenbfuUe btu^enb, 125 
 
 Uebet beine SSiefe tvug. 
 
 (Sd)neE, »on i^rem 9teij befteget, 
 
 (Sriffji bu au§ bem ftnfiern ®d)lunb, 
 
 Sogji fte »on be§ SBibber§ StMtn 
 
 Stiebcr in ben SKeereSgrunb." 130 
 
 182 
 
" ^Mid these dreary walls alone, 
 Hopeless, joyless must I moan. 
 And my youth in sorrow spend : 
 Didst not thou in mercy bear, 
 Trusted blindly to thy care, 1 15 
 
 To my arms my only friend. 
 Dread is thine unfathom'd flood. 
 O'er the rocks in fury beating : 
 But thou bend'st to Love's entreating. 
 And to valour's hardihood ! 120 
 
 '' Thou, too, Monarch of the ocean. 
 Thou wert touched with soft emotion. 
 When across thy wat'ry way 
 Helle, in her homeward flight. 
 In resplendent beauty bright, 125 
 
 Bore the golden fleece away. 
 Vanquish'd by the Maiden's charms. 
 Soon thou bad'st thy floods arise. 
 To convey the beauteous prize 
 Gently to thy longing arms. 130 
 
 183 
 
3t\\lkL 
 
 „(5ine (Bbttin mit bem ®otte, 
 
 Sn ber tiefcn SSaflergrotte, 
 
 Sebt fte je^t unjlcvblii^ fort*, 
 
 ^^ilfreid) ber oerfolgten fiiebe, 
 
 3dt)mt fte beine wilben S^riebe, 135 
 
 gut)rt ben (Sd)ifter in ben ^ort. 
 
 ©d)6ne ^etle, {)otbe ©ottin, 
 
 ©elige, bid) flei)* id) an: 
 
 Sring* and) I)eute ben ©eliebten 
 
 SJfir auf ber gett»ot)nten 58at)n!" 140 
 
 Unb fd)on bunfeltcn bie %lvit))m, 
 
 Unb fie lief ber Sadel ®lutt)en 
 
 SSon bem t)oI)en (SoUer wetjn. 
 
 fieitenb in ben oben 9ieid)en 
 
 ©oUte ba§ »ertrautc 3eid)en 145 
 
 2!)ei; geliebte SBanbrev feljn. 
 
 Unb e§ fau§t unb bvot)nt won feme, 
 
 Sinjier frdufelt fid) ba§ SKeer, 
 
 Unb e§ I6fd)t ba§ 2id)t ber ©terne, 
 
 Unb c§ na^t genjitterfd)njer. 150 
 
 184 
 
" There, a goddess of the waves. 
 In the deepest ocean's caves. 
 Lives she, ne'er again to die; 
 Persecuted Love befriending. 
 Oft thy stubborn fury bending, 135 
 
 At th' affrighted sailor's cry. 
 Fairest Helle ! Goddess bright ! 
 I thy friendly aid implore ; 
 Bid my lover hasten o'er 
 To my arms again to-night I" 140 
 
 Darkness mounted up the sty ; 
 And upon the platform high 
 Beam'd the wonted beacon-light, 
 Faithfnl pledge of love and bhss. 
 Which across the dark abyss 145 
 
 Should the wanderer guide aright. 
 Hark ! from far a thund'ring sound ! 
 Curls the sea in darker ire. 
 And the stars have hid their fire. 
 And the storm is black'ning round. 150 
 
 185 
 
3Cuf bcS ^ontuS miU %la6)e 
 
 Segt ftct) ^a6)t, unb 2Betterbdd)e 
 
 ©turjen au§ ber SSolfen ©d)oo^5 
 
 ^tt|c jucfctt in ben fiuftcn, 
 
 Unb au8 tt)rcn ^elfengruften I55 
 
 SBerbcn aite ©turme lo§, 
 
 2Bui)len ungel)cure (Sd)lunbe 
 
 gn ben ttjeiten 2Baffcrfd)tunb ; 
 
 ®dt)nenb, wic ctn «^6Uenrad)cn 
 
 Seffnct ftd) be§ S)?eerc§ ©runb. 160 
 
 „3[Bei)e, we:^ mir ! " ruft bic 3(rme 
 
 Sammernb. „®rofcr Seug, erbarmel 
 
 3Cc(), tt>aS wagt* id) ju crflet)n! 
 
 SBcnn bte (Bbttn mid) erJjoren, 
 
 SBenn ec ftd) ben fatfd)en 9Keeren 165 
 
 ^ret6 gab in beS ©turmeS 2iSet)n ! 
 
 Me meetgewot)nten 58ogcl 
 
 3tet)en tjeim, in eiPger Slud)t; 
 
 3CUe ftuvmevprobten (Sd)iffe 
 
 SSevgcn ftd) in ftd)rer 58ud)t." 170 
 
 186 
 
Night upon the waters lay ; 
 
 Gleam'd the forky lightning's ray ; 
 
 From the bosom of the cloud 
 
 Heavily the torrents fell ; 
 
 Each from forth his rocky cell 155 
 
 Bav'd the loosen'd winds aloud : 
 
 And in awful whirlpools driv'n 
 
 Rag'd the restless flashing tide, 
 
 As a hell-gulf yawning wide, 
 
 To its deep foundations riv'n. 160 
 
 " Ah ! " exclaim'd the weeping fair, 
 " What was late my idle pray'r ? 
 Jove, be that rash pray'r forgiv'n. 
 Should the Gods have heard that vow ! 
 Should his life a prey e'en now 165 
 
 To yon angry sea be giv'n ! 
 Home the wave-borne sea-mew hies 
 To his shelter in the rock ; 
 Trembling at the tempest's shock 
 Close in port the sailor lies. 170 
 
 187 
 
S#te. 
 
 „3Cd), gewip, ber Unwcrjagte 
 
 Unternaijm baS oft ©ewagtc, 
 
 ©enn i()n trieb ein mdd)t*9er @ott. 
 
 ©r gelobtc tnir*S beim ®d)etben 
 
 9)?it ber Siebc tjcU'gen (Siben^ 175 
 
 St)n entbinbct nuv ber STob. 
 
 3Cd), in biefcm 3fugenbUcEe 
 
 Stingt er mit be§ ©turmcS SButt), 
 
 Unb t)inab in it)ve ©d)lunbe 
 
 Stei^t it)tt bie emp5rte %l\xti)l" I80 
 
 „Salfd)er ^ontu§, beine ©tiUe 
 
 SBar nur be§ SScuatfjeS ^Mt, 
 
 @inem S^Jtegel warjlt bu gtcid); 
 
 Sutfifd) rutjten beine SSogen, 
 
 93i6 bu i{)n t)erau§ betrogen 185 
 
 Sn bein falfd)e§ Sugenreid). 
 
 Se|t, in beineS ©tromeS SKitte, 
 
 S5a bie Sf{ucffet)r ft(^ »erfd)top, 
 
 Sdffeft bu auf ben SSerratt)nen 
 
 3Ctte beine @d)vecfen loS!" 190 
 
 188 
 
f M aiilr f rankr. 
 
 "Ah ! too sure that dauntless breast. 
 By imperious Love possess'd, 
 "Will the dang'rous journey take ; 
 For by all Love's oaths he swore 
 Yet again to venture o'er J 175 
 
 Death alone that vow can break. 
 Ah ! perchance with efforts vain. 
 Wrestling with the tempest's pow'r, 
 Sinks he in this very hour, 
 ^Vhelm'd beneath that angry main. 180 
 
 "Oh, thy calm, perfidious sea 
 Was the hell of treachery ! 
 Smooth as glass thou lay'st erewhile 
 Slumb'ring in thy crystal bed, 
 Till thou hadst thy victim led 185 
 
 To believe thy lying smile ; 
 Till upon thy dupe, seduc'd 
 Far from the protecting shore. 
 Now amid thy torrent's roar. 
 All thy wrath at once is loos'd." 190 
 
 189 
 
Unb e§ toa.6)U be§ ©turmeS Soben, 
 ^06), ju §8ergen auf9et)oben, 
 ®d)»ttl[t baS SKcer, bte SBranbung bnd)t 
 ©d)dumenb ftd) am ^u^ ber ^li:ppen ; 
 ©elbjlt baS (Sd)if mit eid)ennp^)en 195 
 9flal)te unjerf(^mettcrt ntd)f. 
 Utib int SBinb ttli\6)t bie ^adel, 
 S)tc be§ ^fabc§ 8cud)tc war; 
 @d)j;ecfen btctct ba§ ©ewaffcv, 
 ®d)retfen auct) bie £anbung bav. 200 
 
 Uttb ftc flet)t jur 3Cpt)robitc, 
 
 25ap fte bem Srfan gebietc, 
 
 ©dnftigc ber 2BeUen Sorn, 
 
 Unb gclobt, ben firengen SStnben 
 
 9teid)e £):pfer anjuj^nben, 2O0 
 
 ©inen ©tier rait golbnem .§orn, 
 
 Me ©ottinnen ber Siefe, 
 
 Mt ©otter in ber ^6{)» 
 
 glel)t fte, Unbernb Set ju gie^en 
 
 Sn bie jiurmbewegte ©ee. 210 
 
 190 
 
Fiercer yet the tempest raves ; 
 
 Swell on higli the mountain waves ; 
 
 And the angry billows roar 
 
 'Gainst the rocks in thunder broke. 
 
 Ev'n the ship with ribs of oak 195 
 
 Dares not near that sea-beat shore. 
 
 And the beacon light was drown'd, 
 
 Which should lend its cheering ray ; 
 
 Terror on the waters lay ; 
 
 Terror on the landing frown'd. 200 
 
 And to Venus for her aid, 
 
 'Gainst the hurricane she pray'd, 
 
 'Gainst the flashing thunder-cloud : 
 
 And a steer with horns of gold 
 
 (Would they so their wrath withhold) 205 
 
 To the stubborn winds she vow'd. 
 
 Ev'ry Goddess of the deep. 
 
 All the Gods in Heav'n who dwell 
 
 She besought, the restless swell 
 
 Of the waves to lull to sleep. 210 
 
 191 
 
„^6re meinen Sfuf «rfd)atten, 
 
 ©tctg* aviS) betnen grunen .fallen, 
 
 ©cttge 8eufotl>ca! 
 
 ®ie ber ©rf)iffer in bem oben 
 
 SBettenretd), in (SturmeSnottjen 215 
 
 Stettenb ojlt erfd)einen fal). 
 
 0teid)' i{)m beinen tjeil'gen ©d)leicr, 
 
 Ser, get)eimnip»ott gmebt, 
 
 Sic t()n tragen, un»ei;tc|Ud) 
 
 3fu§ bcm (Srab ber gtutt)en tjebt ! " 220 
 
 Unb bie wilben SBinbe fd)wcigen, 
 
 ^iU an >^immct§ Sianbc jieigcn 
 
 eo6 ^ferbc in bie ^b^K 
 
 Srieblid) in bem atten fSztU 
 
 gtiept ba§ 9)feer in ©picgetgUtte, 225 
 
 ^eiter (d^eln Suft unb ©ee. 
 
 ©anfter bred)en ftd) bie SSeUen 
 
 3rn be§ Ufci'§ gelfenwanb, 
 
 Unb fte fd)n?emmen, rut)ig fpictenb, 
 
 (Sinem Seid)nam an ben ©tranb. 230 
 
 192 
 
Hear thy suppliant when she calls ! 
 
 Hear me in thy coral halls, 
 
 Ever-blest Leucothoe ! 
 
 Whom, their utmost need befriending. 
 
 Thy protecting hand extending, 215 
 
 Oft the shipwreck'd sailors see. 
 
 Lend thy veil, which from the grave 
 
 (Woven in mysterious woof, 
 
 From profaner eyes aloof) 
 
 Boasts a magic pow'r to save. 220 
 
 Hush'd and still the wild winds lay j 
 Brightly rose the new-bora day 
 In serenest lustre mild ; 
 To its ancient bed again. 
 Glassy smooth, returned the main ; 225 
 
 Sea and sky in union smil'd. 
 Light the puny billows play'd. 
 Rippling on tb' unbroken sand ; 
 Gently wafted to the land. 
 On the shore a coi-pse was laid. 230 
 
 193 o 
 
S#Ito. 
 
 Sfl/ er iji% bcr au^ entfcelet 
 
 
 (Scinem l^cU^gen (Sd)tt)ur nid)t fe'f)kt! 
 
 
 @d)neUcn SU(f§ erfennt fte il)n. 
 
 
 ^etne Slage Idpt fte fd)atten, 
 
 
 ^eine ^t)rdne ftejjt man faEen, 
 
 235 
 
 ^alt, ijer-jifibeifetnb jlarrt fte t)in. 
 
 
 S£rofilo§ in bie bin Siefe 
 
 
 S3«cft fte, in be§ 3Cetf)cr§ gid)t, 
 
 
 Itnb ein cble§ geuer rotljet 
 
 
 ®a& et:blcid)te 3Cn9eftd)t. 
 
 240 
 
 /,Scf) crfenn* eud), ernjle Wta6)kl 
 
 
 ©trenge treibt i\)x eutc Oted)te; 
 
 
 gut:d)tbar, unerbittlid) ein. 
 
 
 grul) fcl)on ift ntein gauf befd)lojfen5 
 
 
 S5od) baS (BIM t)ab* id) genolfen, 
 
 245 
 
 Unb ba§ fd)6nfie 8oo§ war mcin. 
 
 
 gebenb l)ab* id) beinem SSempel 
 
 
 50?id) 9en)eit)t at§ ^riejicrinj 
 
 
 S)iv ein freubig Spfev fterb* id). 
 
 
 SSenu§, grope <S6ntgin!" 
 
 250 
 
 194 
 
 
'§m mia f tankr. 
 
 Yes ! 'tis he, who e'en in death 
 
 Scorn'd to break his plighted faith : 
 
 One quick glance was darted there — 
 
 Not a tear was seen to flow — 
 
 Not a word of anguish'd woe ; 235 
 
 Fis'd she gaz'd in chill despair. 
 
 Yet a glance upon the sky, 
 
 On the deep a glance she turn'd ; 
 
 And the while a bright flame burn'd 
 
 In that pale and haggard eye. 240 
 
 " Yes, I hear, relentless Fate ! 
 Whom no pray'r can mitigate : 
 Yes, thou claim' st thy right divine ! 
 Though, alas ! too quickly flown. 
 Happiness I yet have known, 245 
 
 And the fairest lot was mine. 
 Venus, in thy temple I 
 Have a faithful Priestess been ; 
 Now to thee, immortal Queen, 
 I a willing victim die ! " 230 
 
 195 
 
Unb mit flicgenbem ©ewanbe 
 
 <B6)WmQt ftc wn be§ $£:^ut:me§ SRanbc 
 
 Sn bie SWccrflutI) ftd) t)inab» 
 
 .^oc^ in feinen Stwti)enretd)en 
 
 2Bdtjt bcr ©ott bie I)cit*gen ficid^en 255 
 
 Unb cr felbcr ifi it)r (Srab* 
 
 Unb mit fcinem Sianb jufriebcn, 
 
 3iet)t cr frcubig fort unb giept 
 
 3(u§ bcr uncrfcb^pftcn Urnc 
 
 ©eincn ©trom, ber cwig fliept. 26O 
 
 ^■?<Ajas*«eifca5:<e!>T~ 
 
'§m m)i f Mte. 
 
 Light in air her garments tung, 
 
 As from off the rock she sprung 
 
 Downward to th' expecting wave. 
 
 High from out his wat'ry reign 
 
 Kose the Monarch of the main, 255 
 
 And his arms became her grave. 
 
 Then, contented with his prize. 
 
 Sank he back, and, peaceful, pours 
 
 From his unexhausted stores 
 
 TV ocean stream, that never dies. 260 
 
 1821. 
 
 -T-sAJZa^^seies^fcST- 
 
 197 
 
^l^vntU Ats €mfndM, 
 
 Sreifad) ijl ber <S6)xin ber 3eit: 
 36gernb fommt bte Sufunft t)ergejogen, 
 ^fcitfd)nell ijl baS Se|t cntflogcn, 
 @wig jltiU fiel)t bie SSergangcntjcit. 
 
 ^einc Ungcbulb bepgelt 5 
 
 S{)ven ©d)ritt, wcnn ftc »erv»eitt. 
 ^einc gurd)t, fctn Sweifeln jugelt 
 SI)ven £a«f, mnn ftc cnteilt. 
 ^eine Sffeu, fein Sauberfcgen 
 S^ann bie <Stet)enbe bewegen. lo 
 
 SR6d)tcfi bu beglucft unb weife 
 gnbigen be6 SebenS Stcifc, 
 sjlimm bie 36gcrnbc jum Statl), 
 '>Sli6)t jum 5Ber!jeug beiner Z\)aU 
 SBdtjle nid)t bie ©Uetjenbe jum Svcunb 15 
 
 giid)t bie SSteibenbe jum Seinb. 
 
 198 
 
THE PLIGHT OF TIME. 
 
 A SmNG OF CONFUCIUS. 
 
 Time has, methinks, a threefold speed : 
 
 Slowly the future days proceed : 
 
 While flies the present, arrowy-fast. 
 
 And still for ever stands the past. 
 
 When slow he moves, impatience fails 5 
 
 To wing the tardy-footed day ; 
 
 And when he hastens, nought avails 
 
 Or doubt or dread to win delay : 
 
 And charm and spell may strive in vain 
 
 To move the steadfast past again. lo 
 
 Wisely and happy how to end 
 Thy mortal journey wouldst thou know, 
 Upon thy counsels bid attend, 
 (But not upon thy deeds) the slow ; 
 And make not that which flies thy friend, 15 
 Nor that which must remain, thy foe. 
 1824. 
 
 199 
 
|xr|fnwnjg[. 
 
 @6 reben unti trdumcti bie SSWenfd)ett oiel 
 SSon bejfcven f unftigen SXagen ; 
 
 ^a6) eincm 9tucEtid)en, gotbenen 3iel 
 Stetjt man fte tennen unb jagen. 
 
 S)ie 2Sett wirb att unb wirb wieber jung, 
 
 ©od) ber 9)?enfd) t)ojft tmmer SScrbeffcvung 
 
 ®ie .^ofnung fut)t;t tt)n in§ £cben ein, 
 ©ic umflattevt ben fr6t)tid)en ^naben, 
 
 Sen Sungting lodet ii)v 3auberfd)ein, 
 ®ic njirb mit bem ®rci§ ntd)t bcgraben*, lo 
 
 Senn bcfdjUef t cv im ©rabe ben muben £auf, 
 
 SJiod) am ©rabe ^jflanjt cv — bte ^ojfnung auf. 
 
 200 
 
HOPE. 
 
 We talk and we dream of the future years. 
 
 And hope for better and brighter days ; 
 
 And ever some distant bliss appears. 
 
 The golden scope of our eager gaze. 
 
 The world grows old, and grows young again, 5 
 
 But Amendment is ever the dream of men ! 
 
 Hope smiles on the infant's dawn of day ; 
 
 To boyhood she opens her liveliest page; 
 
 Gilds the visions of youth with her magic ray, 
 
 Nor is buried at length in the grave of age ; i o 
 
 For there when our weary career we close. 
 
 Still Hope is the plant from the tomb that grows. 
 
 201 
 
@§ ifl !ein tcercr, fd)nieid)clnber 2BaI)n, 
 
 ©rjeugt im ©eijirne beS $J{)oren. 
 Stn .^erjcn funbet c§ kut ftd) an: 15 
 
 3u was JBcffevm ftnb toir geboren,; 
 Unb »a§ bic innere ©timme fprid)t, 
 S)a§ tdufd)t bie tjoffenbc ©eele nid)t. 
 
 202 
 
'Tis no brain-kindled phantom^ whose meteor flames 
 Gleam but to mislead with their wandering fire j 
 From the depths of the soul a voice proclaims, 15 
 
 The end of our being is something higher ;" 
 And the whisper it breathes to the trusting heart, 
 Is a treasure from which it can never part. 
 
 1824. 
 
 203 
 
LONDON : 
 
 STBANGEWAYa & "Walden, Pi'intera, 
 Castle St. Leicester Sq. 
 
^^1^1^^-- ?* r"^ *''i ^•**- *'*&!ibLi 
 
 U|JW' -^mM- mm \t,'\ ««,h V^tt «F»> U|£2£5B 
 
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 av?v„i\,^}.s,>«,to 
 
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