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+The Project Gutenberg Etext of Verses and Translations, by C. S. C.
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+Title: Verses and Translations
+
+Author: C. S. C.
+
+Release Date: May, 2003  [Etext #4096]
+[Yes, we are about one year ahead of schedule]
+[The actual date this file first posted = 11/26/01]
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+Edition: 10
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+Language: English
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+The Project Gutenberg Etext of Verses and Translations, by C. S. C.
+*******This file should be named vrtrn10.txt or vrtrn10.zip******
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+
+
+
+VERSES AND TRANSLATIONS
+
+
+
+
+Contents:
+
+VISIONS.
+GEMINI AND VIRGO.
+"THERE STANDS A CITY"
+STRIKING.
+VOICES OF THE NIGHT.
+LINES SUGGESTED BY THE 14TH OF FEBRUARY.
+A, B, C.
+TO MRS. GOODCHILD.
+ODE--'ON A DISTANT PROSPECT' OF MAKING A FORTUNE.
+ISABEL.
+DIRGE.
+LINES SUGGESTED BY THE 14TH OF FEBRUARY.
+"HIC VIR, HIC EST"
+BEER.
+ODE TO TOBACCO.
+DOVER TO MUNICH.
+CHARADES.
+PROVERBIAL PHILOSOPHY.
+TRANSLATIONS:
+   LYCIDAS.
+   IN MEMORIAM.
+   LAURA MATILDA'S DIRGE.
+   "LEAVES HAVE THEIR TIME TO FALL."
+   "LET US TURN HITHERWARD OUR BARK."
+CARMEN SAECULARE.
+TRANSLATIONS FROM HORACE.
+   TO A SHIP.
+   TO VIRGIL.
+   TO THE FOUNTAIN OF BANDUSIA.
+   TO IBYCUS'S WIFE.
+   SORACTE.
+   TO LEUCONOE.
+   JUNO'S SPEECH.
+   TO A FAUN.
+   TO LYCE.
+   TO HIS SLAVE.
+TRANSLATIONS:
+   FROM VIRGIL
+   FROM THEOCRITUS.
+   SPEECH OF AJAX.
+   FROM LUCRETIUS.
+   FROM HOMER.
+
+
+
+VISIONS.
+
+
+
+"She was a phantom," &c.
+
+In lone Glenartney's thickets lies couched the lordly stag,
+The dreaming terrier's tail forgets its customary wag;
+And plodding ploughmen's weary steps insensibly grow quicker,
+As broadening casements light them on towards home, or home-brewed
+liquor.
+
+It is (in fact) the evening--that pure and pleasant time,
+When stars break into splendour, and poets into rhyme;
+When in the glass of Memory the forms of loved ones shine -
+And when, of course, Miss Goodchild's is prominent in mine.
+
+Miss Goodchild!--Julia Goodchild!--how graciously you smiled
+Upon my childish passion once, yourself a fair-haired child:
+When I was (no doubt) profiting by Dr. Crabb's instruction,
+And sent those streaky lollipops home for your fairy suction!
+
+"She wore" her natural "roses, the night when first we met" -
+Her golden hair was gleaming 'neath the coercive net:
+"Her brow was like the snawdrift," her step was like Queen Mab's,
+And gone was instantly the heart of every boy at Crabb's.
+
+The parlour-boarder chasseed tow'rds her on graceful limb;
+The onyx decked his bosom--but her smiles were not for him:
+With ME she danced--till drowsily her eyes "began to blink,"
+And _I_ brought raisin wine, and said, "Drink, pretty creature, drink!"
+
+And evermore, when winter comes in his garb of snows,
+And the returning schoolboy is told how fast he grows;
+Shall I--with that soft hand in mine--enact ideal Lancers,
+And dream I hear demure remarks, and make impassioned answers:-
+
+I know that never, never may her love for me return -
+At night I muse upon the fact with undisguised concern -
+But ever shall I bless that day:  (I don't bless, as a rule,
+The days I spent at "Dr. Crabb's Preparatory School.")
+
+And yet--we two MAY meet again--(Be still, my throbbing heart!) -
+Now rolling years have weaned us from jam and raspberry tart:-
+One night I saw a vision--'Twas when musk-roses bloom
+I stood--WE stood--upon a rug, in a sumptuous dining-room:
+
+One hand clasped hers--one easily reposed upon my hip -
+And "BLESS YE!" burst abruptly from Mr. Goodchild's lip:
+I raised my brimming eye, and saw in hers an answering gleam -
+My heart beat wildly--and I woke, and lo! it was a dream.
+
+
+
+GEMINI AND VIRGO.
+
+
+
+Some vast amount of years ago,
+   Ere all my youth had vanished from me,
+A boy it was my lot to know,
+   Whom his familiar friends called Tommy.
+
+I love to gaze upon a child;
+   A young bud bursting into blossom;
+Artless, as Eve yet unbeguiled,
+   And agile as a young opossum:
+
+And such was he.  A calm-browed lad,
+   Yet mad, at moments, as a hatter:
+Why hatters as a race are mad
+   I never knew, nor does it matter.
+
+He was what nurses call a 'limb;'
+   One of those small misguided creatures,
+Who, though their intellects are dim,
+   Are one too many for their teachers:
+
+And, if you asked of him to say
+   What twice 10 was, or 3 times 7,
+He'd glance (in quite a placid way)
+   From heaven to earth, from earth to heaven:
+
+And smile, and look politely round,
+   To catch a casual suggestion;
+But make no effort to propound
+   Any solution of the question.
+
+And so not much esteemed was he
+   Of the authorities:  and therefore
+He fraternized by chance with me,
+   Needing a somebody to care for:
+
+And three fair summers did we twain
+   Live (as they say) and love together;
+And bore by turns the wholesome cane
+   Till our young skins became as leather:
+
+And carved our names on every desk,
+   And tore our clothes, and inked our collars;
+And looked unique and picturesque,
+   But not, it may be, model scholars.
+
+We did much as we chose to do;
+   We'd never heard of Mrs. Grundy;
+All the theology we knew
+   Was that we mightn't play on Sunday;
+
+And all the general truths, that cakes
+   Were to be bought at four a-penny,
+And that excruciating aches
+   Resulted if we ate too many:
+
+And seeing ignorance is bliss,
+   And wisdom consequently folly,
+The obvious result is this -
+   That our two lives were very jolly.
+
+At last the separation came.
+   Real love, at that time, was the fashion;
+And by a horrid chance, the same
+   Young thing was, to us both, a passion.
+
+Old POSER snorted like a horse:
+   His feet were large, his hands were pimply,
+His manner, when excited, coarse:-
+   But Miss P. was an angel simply.
+
+She was a blushing gushing thing;
+   All--more than all--my fancy painted;
+Once--when she helped me to a wing
+   Of goose--I thought I should have fainted.
+
+The people said that she was blue:
+   But I was green, and loved her dearly.
+She was approaching thirty-two;
+   And I was then eleven, nearly.
+
+I did not love as others do;
+   (None ever did that I've heard tell of;)
+My passion was a byword through
+   The town she was, of course, the belle of.
+
+Oh sweet--as to the toilworn man
+   The far-off sound of rippling river;
+As to cadets in Hindostan
+   The fleeting remnant of their liver -
+
+To me was ANNA; dear as gold
+   That fills the miser's sunless coffers;
+As to the spinster, growing old,
+   The thought--the dream--that she had offers.
+
+I'd sent her little gifts of fruit;
+   I'd written lines to her as Venus;
+I'd sworn unflinchingly to shoot
+   The man who dared to come between us:
+
+And it was you, my Thomas, you,
+   The friend in whom my soul confided,
+Who dared to gaze on her--to do,
+   I may say, much the same as I did.
+
+One night I SAW him squeeze her hand;
+   There was no doubt about the matter;
+I said he must resign, or stand
+   My vengeance--and he chose the latter.
+
+We met, we 'planted' blows on blows:
+   We fought as long as we were able:
+My rival had a bottle-nose,
+   And both my speaking eyes were sable.
+
+When the school-bell cut short our strife,
+   Miss P. gave both of us a plaster;
+And in a week became the wife
+   Of Horace Nibbs, the writing-master.
+
+* * *
+
+I loved her then--I'd love her still,
+   Only one must not love Another's:
+But thou and I, my Tommy, will,
+   When we again meet, meet as brothers.
+
+It may be that in age one seeks
+   Peace only:  that the blood is brisker
+In boy's veins, than in theirs whose cheeks
+   Are partially obscured by whisker;
+
+Or that the growing ages steal
+   The memories of past wrongs from us.
+But this is certain--that I feel
+   Most friendly unto thee, oh Thomas!
+
+And wheresoe'er we meet again,
+   On this or that side the equator,
+If I've not turned teetotaller then,
+   And have wherewith to pay the waiter,
+
+To thee I'll drain the modest cup,
+   Ignite with thee the mild Havannah;
+And we will waft, while liquoring up,
+   Forgiveness to the heartless ANNA.
+
+
+
+"THERE STANDS A CITY."
+INGOLDSBY.
+
+
+
+Year by year do Beauty's daughters,
+   In the sweetest gloves and shawls,
+Troop to taste the Chattenham waters,
+   And adorn the Chattenham balls.
+
+'Nulla non donanda lauru'
+   Is that city:  you could not,
+Placing England's map before you,
+   Light on a more favoured spot.
+
+If no clear translucent river
+   Winds 'neath willow-shaded paths,
+"Children and adults" may shiver
+   All day in "Chalybeate baths:"
+
+If "the inimitable Fechter"
+   Never brings the gallery down,
+Constantly "the Great Protector"
+   There "rejects the British crown:"
+
+And on every side the painter
+   Looks on wooded vale and plain
+And on fair hills, faint and fainter
+   Outlined as they near the main.
+
+There I met with him, my chosen
+   Friend--the 'long' but not 'stern swell,' {15a}
+Faultless in his hats and hosen,
+   Whom the Johnian lawns know well:-
+
+Oh my comrade, ever valued!
+   Still I see your festive face;
+Hear you humming of "the gal you'd
+   Left behind" in massive bass:
+
+See you sit with that composure
+   On the eeliest of hacks,
+That the novice would suppose your
+   Manly limbs encased in wax:
+
+Or anon,--when evening lent her
+   Tranquil light to hill and vale, -
+Urge, towards the table's centre,
+   With unerring hand, the squail.
+
+Ah delectablest of summers!
+   How my heart--that "muffled drum"
+Which ignores the aid of drummers -
+   Beats, as back thy memories come!
+
+Oh, among the dancers peerless,
+   Fleet of foot, and soft of eye!
+Need I say to you that cheerless
+   Must my days be till I die?
+
+At my side she mashed the fragrant
+   Strawberry; lashes soft as silk
+Drooped o'er saddened eyes, when vagrant
+   Gnats sought watery graves in milk:
+
+Then we danced, we walked together;
+   Talked--no doubt on trivial topics;
+Such as Blondin, or the weather,
+   Which "recalled us to the tropics."
+
+But--oh! in the deuxtemps peerless,
+   Fleet of foot, and soft of eye! -
+Once more I repeat, that cheerless
+   Shall my days be till I die.
+
+And the lean and hungry raven,
+   As he picks my bones, will start
+To observe 'M. N.' engraven
+   Neatly on my blighted heart.
+
+
+
+STRIKING.
+
+
+
+It was a railway passenger,
+   And he lept out jauntilie.
+"Now up and bear, thou stout porter,
+   My two chattels to me.
+
+"Bring hither, bring hither my bag so red,
+   And portmanteau so brown:
+(They lie in the van, for a trusty man
+   He labelled them London town:)
+
+"And fetch me eke a cabman bold,
+   That I may be his fare, his fare;
+And he shall have a good shilling,
+If by two of the clock he do me bring
+   To the Terminus, Euston Square."
+
+"Now,--so to thee the saints alway,
+   Good gentleman, give luck, -
+As never a cab may I find this day,
+   For the cabman wights have struck:
+And now, I wis, at the Red Post Inn,
+   Or else at the Dog and Duck,
+Or at Unicorn Blue, or at Green Griffin,
+The nut-brown ale and the fine old gin
+   Right pleasantly they do suck."
+
+"Now rede me aright, thou stout porter,
+   What were it best that I should do:
+For woe is me, an I reach not there
+   Or ever the clock strike two."
+
+"I have a son, a lytel son;
+   Fleet is his foot as the wild roebuck's:
+Give him a shilling, and eke a brown,
+And he shall carry thy chattels down,
+To Euston, or half over London town,
+   On one of the station trucks."
+
+Then forth in a hurry did they twain fare,
+The gent, and the son of the stout porter,
+Who fled like an arrow, nor turned a hair,
+   Through all the mire and muck:
+"A ticket, a ticket, sir clerk, I pray:
+For by two of the clock must I needs away."
+"That may hardly be," the clerk did say,
+   "For indeed--the clocks have struck."
+
+
+
+VOICES OF THE NIGHT.
+
+
+
+"The tender Grace of a day that is past."
+
+The dew is on the roses,
+   The owl hath spread her wing;
+And vocal are the noses
+   Of peasant and of king:
+"Nature" (in short) "reposes;"
+   But I do no such thing.
+
+Pent in my lonesome study
+   Here I must sit and muse;
+Sit till the morn grows ruddy,
+   Till, rising with the dews,
+"Jeameses" remove the muddy
+   Spots from their masters' shoes.
+
+Yet are sweet faces flinging
+   Their witchery o'er me here:
+I hear sweet voices singing
+   A song as soft, as clear,
+As (previously to stinging)
+   A gnat sings round one's ear.
+
+Does Grace draw young Apollos
+   In blue mustachios still?
+Does Emma tell the swallows
+   How she will pipe and trill,
+When, some fine day, she follows
+   Those birds to the window-sill?
+
+And oh! has Albert faded
+   From Grace's memory yet?
+Albert, whose "brow was shaded
+   By locks of glossiest jet,"
+Whom almost any lady'd
+   Have given her eyes to get?
+
+Does not her conscience smite her
+   For one who hourly pines,
+Thinking her bright eyes brighter
+   Than any star that shines -
+I mean of course the writer
+   Of these pathetic lines?
+
+Who knows?  As quoth Sir Walter,
+   "Time rolls his ceaseless course:
+"The Grace of yore" may alter -
+   And then, I've one resource:
+I'll invest in a bran-new halter,
+   And I'll perish without remorse.
+
+
+
+LINES SUGGESTED BY THE FOURTEENTH OF FEBRUARY.
+
+
+
+Ere the morn the East has crimsoned,
+   When the stars are twinkling there,
+(As they did in Watts's Hymns, and
+   Made him wonder what they were:)
+When the forest-nymphs are beading
+   Fern and flower with silvery dew -
+My infallible proceeding
+   Is to wake, and think of you.
+
+When the hunter's ringing bugle
+   Sounds farewell to field and copse,
+And I sit before my frugal
+   Meal of gravy-soup and chops:
+When (as Gray remarks) "the moping
+   Owl doth to the moon complain,"
+And the hour suggests eloping -
+   Fly my thoughts to you again.
+
+May my dreams be granted never?
+   Must I aye endure affliction
+Rarely realised, if ever,
+   In our wildest works of fiction?
+Madly Romeo loved his Juliet;
+   Copperfield began to pine
+When he hadn't been to school yet -
+   But their loves were cold to mine.
+
+Give me hope, the least, the dimmest,
+   Ere I drain the poisoned cup:
+Tell me I may tell the chymist
+   Not to make that arsenic up!
+Else, this heart shall soon cease throbbing;
+   And when, musing o'er my bones,
+Travellers ask, "Who killed Cock Robin?"
+They'll be told, "Miss Sarah J-s."
+
+
+
+A, B, C.
+
+
+
+A is an Angel of blushing eighteen:
+B is the Ball where the Angel was seen:
+C is her Chaperone, who cheated at cards:
+D is the Deuxtemps, with Frank of the Guards:
+E is the Eye which those dark lashes cover:
+F is the Fan it peeped wickedly over:
+G is the Glove of superlative kid:
+H is the Hand which it spitefully hid:
+I is the Ice which spent nature demanded:
+J is the Juvenile who hurried to hand it:
+K is the Kerchief, a rare work of art:
+L is the Lace which composed the chief part.
+M is the old Maid who watch'd the girls dance:
+N is the Nose she turned up at each glance:
+O is the Olga (just then in its prime):
+P is the Partner who wouldn't keep time:
+Q 's a Quadrille, put instead of the Lancers:
+R the Remonstrances made by the dancers:
+S is the Supper, where all went in pairs:
+T is the Twaddle they talked on the stairs:
+U is the Uncle who 'thought we'd be going':
+V is the Voice which his niece replied 'No' in:
+W is the Waiter, who sat up till eight:
+X is his Exit, not rigidly straight:
+Y is a Yawning fit caused by the Ball:
+Z stands for Zero, or nothing at all.
+
+
+
+TO MRS. GOODCHILD.
+
+
+
+   The night-wind's shriek is pitiless and hollow,
+      The boding bat flits by on sullen wing,
+   And I sit desolate, like that "one swallow"
+      Who found (with horror) that he'd not brought spring:
+   Lonely as he who erst with venturous thumb
+Drew from its pie-y lair the solitary plum.
+
+   And to my gaze the phantoms of the Past,
+      The cherished fictions of my boyhood, rise:
+   I see Red Ridinghood observe, aghast,
+      The fixed expression of her grandam's eyes;
+   I hear the fiendish chattering and chuckling
+Which those misguided fowls raised at the Ugly Duckling.
+
+   The House that Jack built--and the Malt that lay
+      Within the House--the Rat that ate the Malt -
+   The Cat, that in that sanguinary way
+      Punished the poor thing for its venial fault -
+   The Worrier-Dog--the Cow with Crumpled horn -
+And then--ah yes! and then--the Maiden all forlorn!
+
+   O Mrs. Gurton--(may I call thee Gammer?)
+      Thou more than mother to my infant mind!
+   I loved thee better than I loved my grammar -
+      I used to wonder why the Mice were blind,
+   And who was gardener to Mistress Mary,
+And what--I don't know still--was meant by "quite contrary"?
+
+   "Tota contraria," an "Arundo Cami"
+      Has phrased it--which is possibly explicit,
+   Ingenious certainly--but all the same I
+      Still ask, when coming on the word, 'What is it?'
+   There were more things in Mrs. Gurton's eye,
+Mayhap, than are dreamed of in our philosophy.
+
+   No doubt the Editor of 'Notes and Queries'
+      Or 'Things not generally known' could tell
+   That word's real force--my only lurking fear is
+      That the great Gammer "didna ken hersel":
+   (I've precedent, yet feel I owe apology
+For passing in this way to Scottish phraseology).
+
+   Alas, dear Madam, I must ask your pardon
+      For making this unwarranted digression,
+   Starting (I think) from Mistress Mary's garden:-
+      And beg to send, with every expression
+   Of personal esteem, a Book of Rhymes,
+For Master G. to read at miscellaneous times.
+
+   There is a youth, who keeps a 'crumpled Horn,'
+      (Living next me, upon the selfsame story,)
+   And ever, 'twixt the midnight and the morn,
+      He solaces his soul with Annie Laurie.
+   The tune is good; the habit p'raps romantic;
+But tending, if pursued, to drive one's neighbours frantic.
+
+   And now,--at this unprecedented hour,
+      When the young Dawn is "trampling out the stars," -
+   I hear that youth--with more than usual power
+      And pathos--struggling with the first few bars.
+   And I do think the amateur cornopean
+Should be put down by law--but that's perhaps Utopian.
+
+   Who knows what "things unknown" I might have "bodied
+      Forth," if not checked by that absurd Too-too?
+   But don't I know that when my friend has plodded
+      Through the first verse, the second will ensue?
+   Considering which, dear Madam, I will merely
+Send the aforesaid book--and am yours most sincerely.
+
+
+
+ODE--'ON A DISTANT PROSPECT' OF MAKING A FORTUNE.
+
+
+
+Now the "rosy morn appearing"
+   Floods with light the dazzled heaven;
+And the schoolboy groans on hearing
+   That eternal clock strike seven:-
+Now the waggoner is driving
+   Towards the fields his clattering wain;
+Now the bluebottle, reviving,
+   Buzzes down his native pane.
+
+But to me the morn is hateful:
+   Wearily I stretch my legs,
+Dress, and settle to my plateful
+   Of (perhaps inferior) eggs.
+Yesterday Miss Crump, by message,
+   Mentioned "rent," which "p'raps I'd pay;"
+And I have a dismal presage
+   That she'll call, herself, to-day.
+
+Once, I breakfasted off rosewood,
+   Smoked through silver-mounted pipes -
+Then how my patrician nose would
+   Turn up at the thought of "swipes!"
+Ale,--occasionally claret, -
+   Graced my luncheon then:- and now
+I drink porter in a garret,
+   To be paid for heaven knows how.
+
+When the evening shades are deepened,
+   And I doff my hat and gloves,
+No sweet bird is there to "cheep and
+   Twitter twenty million loves:"
+No dark-ringleted canaries
+   Sing to me of "hungry foam;"
+No imaginary "Marys"
+   Call fictitious "cattle home."
+
+Araminta, sweetest, fairest!
+   Solace once of every ill!
+How I wonder if thou bearest
+   Mivins in remembrance still!
+If that Friday night is banished
+   Yet from that retentive mind,
+When the others somehow vanished,
+   And we two were left behind:-
+
+When in accents low, yet thrilling,
+   I did all my love declare;
+Mentioned that I'd not a shilling -
+   Hinted that we need not care:
+And complacently you listened
+   To my somewhat long address -
+(Listening, at the same time, isn't
+   Quite the same as saying Yes).
+
+Once, a happy child, I carolled
+   O'er green lawns the whole day through,
+Not unpleasingly apparelled
+   In a tightish suit of blue:-
+What a change has now passed o'er me!
+   Now with what dismay I see
+Every rising morn before me!
+   Goodness gracious, patience me!
+
+And I'll prowl, a moodier Lara,
+   Through the world, as prowls the bat,
+And habitually wear a
+   Cypress wreath around my hat:
+And when Death snuffs out the taper
+   Of my Life, (as soon he must),
+I'll send up to every paper,
+   "Died, T. Mivins; of disgust."
+
+
+
+ISABEL.
+
+
+
+   Now o'er the landscape crowd the deepening shades,
+   And the shut lily cradles not the bee;
+The red deer couches in the forest glades,
+   And faint the echoes of the slumberous sea:
+   And ere I rest, one prayer I'll breathe for thee,
+The sweet Egeria of my lonely dreams:
+   Lady, forgive, that ever upon me
+   Thoughts of thee linger, as the soft starbeams
+Linger on Merlin's rock, or dark Sabrina's streams.
+
+   On gray Pilatus once we loved to stray,
+   And watch far off the glimmering roselight break
+O'er the dim mountain-peaks, ere yet one ray
+   Pierced the deep bosom of the mist-clad lake.
+   Oh! who felt not new life within him wake,
+And his pulse quicken, and his spirit burn -
+   (Save one we wot of, whom the cold DID make
+Feel "shooting pains in every joint in turn,")
+When first he saw the sun gild thy green shores, Lucerne?
+
+   And years have past, and I have gazed once more
+   On blue lakes glistening beneath mountains blue;
+And all seemed sadder, lovelier than before -
+   For all awakened memories of you.
+   Oh! had I had you by my side, in lieu
+Of that red matron, whom the flies would worry,
+   (Flies in those parts unfortunately do,)
+Who walked so slowly, talked in such a hurry,
+And with such wild contempt for stops and Lindley Murray!
+
+O Isabel, the brightest, heavenliest theme
+   That ere drew dreamer on to poesy,
+Since "Peggy's locks" made Burns neglect his team,
+   And Stella's smile lured Johnson from his tea -
+   I may not tell thee what thou art to me!
+But ever dwells the soft voice in my ear,
+   Whispering of what Time is, what Man might be,
+   Would he but "do the duty that lies near,"
+And cut clubs, cards, champagne, balls, billiard-rooms, and beer.
+
+
+
+DIRGE.
+
+
+
+"Dr. Birch's young friends will reassemble to-day, Feb. 1st."
+
+White is the wold, and ghostly
+   The dank and leafless trees;
+And 'M's and 'N's are mostly
+   Pronounced like 'B's and 'D's:
+'Neath bleak sheds, ice-encrusted,
+   The sheep stands, mute and stolid:
+And ducks find out, disgusted,
+   That all the ponds are solid.
+
+Many a stout steer's work is
+   (At least in this world) finished;
+The gross amount of turkies
+   Is sensibly diminished:
+The holly-boughs are faded,
+   The painted crackers gone;
+Would I could write, as Gray did,
+   An Elegy thereon!
+
+For Christmas-time is ended:
+   Now is "our youth" regaining
+Those sweet spots where are "blended
+   Home-comforts and school-training."
+Now they're, I dare say, venting
+   Their grief in transient sobs,
+And I am "left lamenting"
+   At home, with Mrs. Dobbs.
+
+O Posthumus!  "Fugaces
+   Labuntur anni" still;
+Time robs us of our graces,
+   Evade him as we will.
+We were the twins of Siam:
+   Now SHE thinks ME a bore,
+And I admit that _I_ am
+   Inclined at times to snore.
+
+I was her own Nathaniel;
+   With her I took sweet counsel,
+Brought seed-cake for her spaniel,
+   And kept her bird in groundsel:
+We've murmured, "How delightful
+A landscape, seen by night, is," -
+   And woke next day in frightful
+   Pain from acute bronchitis.
+
+* * *
+
+But ah! for them, whose laughter
+   We heard last New Year's Day, -
+(They reeked not of Hereafter,
+   Or what the Doctor'd say,) -
+For those small forms that fluttered
+   Moth-like around the plate,
+When Sally brought the buttered
+   Buns in at half-past eight!
+
+Ah for the altered visage
+   Of her, our tiny Belle,
+Whom my boy Gus (at his age!)
+   Said was a "deuced swell!"
+P'raps now Miss Tickler's tocsin
+   Has caged that pert young linnet;
+Old Birch perhaps is boxing
+   My Gus's ears this minute.
+
+Yet, though your young ears be as
+   Red as mamma's geraniums,
+Yet grieve not!  Thus ideas
+   Pass into infant craniums.
+Use not complaints unseemly;
+   Tho' you must work like bricks;
+And it IS cold, extremely,
+   Rising at half-past six.
+
+Soon sunnier will the day grow,
+   And the east wind not blow so;
+Soon, as of yore, L'Allegro
+   Succeed Il Penseroso:
+Stick to your Magnall's Questions
+   And Long Division sums;
+And come--with good digestions -
+   Home when next Christmas comes.
+
+
+
+LINES SUGGESTED BY THE FOURTEENTH OF FEBRUARY.
+
+
+
+   Darkness succeeds to twilight:
+   Through lattice and through skylight
+The stars no doubt, if one looked out,
+      Might be observed to shine:
+   And sitting by the embers
+   I elevate my members
+On a stray chair, and then and there
+      Commence a Valentine.
+
+   Yea! by St. Valentinus,
+   Emma shall not be minus
+What all young ladies, whate'er their grade is,
+      Expect to-day no doubt:
+   Emma the fair, the stately -
+   Whom I beheld so lately,
+Smiling beneath the snow-white wreath
+      Which told that she was "out."
+
+   Wherefore fly to her, swallow,
+   And mention that I'd "follow,"
+And "pipe and trill," et cetera, till
+      I died, had I but wings:
+   Say the North's "true and tender,"
+   The South an old offender;
+And hint in fact, with your well-known tact,
+      All kinds of pretty things.
+
+   Say I grow hourly thinner,
+   Simply abhor my dinner -
+Tho' I do try and absorb some viand
+      Each day, for form's sake merely:
+   And ask her, when all's ended,
+   And I am found extended,
+With vest blood-spotted and cut carotid,
+      To think on Her's sincerely.
+
+
+
+"HIC VIR, HIC EST."
+
+
+
+Often, when o'er tree and turret,
+   Eve a dying radiance flings,
+By that ancient pile I linger
+   Known familiarly as "King's."
+And the ghosts of days departed
+   Rise, and in my burning breast
+All the undergraduate wakens,
+   And my spirit is at rest.
+
+What, but a revolting fiction,
+   Seems the actual result
+Of the Census's enquiries
+   Made upon the 15th ult.?
+Still my soul is in its boyhood;
+   Nor of year or changes recks.
+Though my scalp is almost hairless,
+   And my figure grows convex.
+
+Backward moves the kindly dial;
+   And I'm numbered once again
+With those noblest of their species
+   Called emphatically 'Men':
+Loaf, as I have loafed aforetime,
+   Through the streets, with tranquil mind,
+And a long-backed fancy-mongrel
+   Trailing casually behind:
+
+Past the Senate-house I saunter,
+   Whistling with an easy grace;
+Past the cabbage-stalks that carpet
+   Still the beefy market-place;
+Poising evermore the eye-glass
+   In the light sarcastic eye,
+Lest, by chance, some breezy nursemaid
+   Pass, without a tribute, by.
+
+Once, an unassuming Freshman,
+   Through these wilds I wandered on,
+Seeing in each house a College,
+   Under every cap a Don:
+Each perambulating infant
+   Had a magic in its squall,
+For my eager eye detected
+   Senior Wranglers in them all.
+
+By degrees my education
+   Grew, and I became as others;
+Learned to court delirium tremens
+   By the aid of Bacon Brothers;
+Bought me tiny boots of Mortlock,
+   And colossal prints of Roe;
+And ignored the proposition
+   That both time and money go.
+
+Learned to work the wary dogcart
+   Artfully through King's Parade;
+Dress, and steer a boat, and sport with
+   Amaryllis in the shade:
+Struck, at Brown's, the dashing hazard;
+   Or (more curious sport than that)
+Dropped, at Callaby's, the terrier
+   Down upon the prisoned rat.
+
+I have stood serene on Fenner's
+   Ground, indifferent to blisters,
+While the Buttress of the period
+   Bowled me his peculiar twisters:
+Sung 'We won't go home till morning';
+   Striven to part my backhair straight;
+Drunk (not lavishly) of Miller's
+   Old dry wines at 78:-
+
+When within my veins the blood ran,
+   And the curls were on my brow,
+I did, oh ye undergraduates,
+   Much as ye are doing now.
+Wherefore bless ye, O beloved ones:-
+   Now unto mine inn must I,
+Your 'poor moralist,' {51a} betake me,
+   In my 'solitary fly.'
+
+
+
+BEER.
+
+
+
+In those old days which poets say were golden -
+   (Perhaps they laid the gilding on themselves:
+And, if they did, I'm all the more beholden
+   To those brown dwellers in my dusty shelves,
+Who talk to me "in language quaint and olden"
+   Of gods and demigods and fauns and elves,
+Pans with his pipes, and Bacchus with his leopards,
+And staid young goddesses who flirt with shepherds:)
+
+In those old days, the Nymph called Etiquette
+   (Appalling thought to dwell on) was not born.
+They had their May, but no Mayfair as yet,
+   No fashions varying as the hues of morn.
+Just as they pleased they dressed and drank and ate,
+   Sang hymns to Ceres (their John Barleycorn)
+And danced unchaperoned, and laughed unchecked,
+And were no doubt extremely incorrect.
+
+Yet do I think their theory was pleasant:
+   And oft, I own, my 'wayward fancy roams'
+Back to those times, so different from the present;
+   When no one smoked cigars, nor gave At-homes,
+Nor smote a billiard-ball, nor winged a pheasant,
+   Nor 'did' their hair by means of long-tailed combs,
+Nor migrated to Brighton once a-year,
+Nor--most astonishing of all--drank Beer.
+
+No, they did not drink Beer, "which brings me to"
+   (As Gilpin said) "the middle of my song."
+Not that "the middle" is precisely true,
+   Or else I should not tax your patience long:
+If I had said 'beginning,' it might do;
+   But I have a dislike to quoting wrong:
+I was unlucky--sinned against, not sinning -
+When Cowper wrote down 'middle' for 'beginning.'
+
+So to proceed.  That abstinence from Malt
+   Has always struck me as extremely curious.
+The Greek mind must have had some vital fault,
+   That they should stick to liquors so injurious -
+(Wine, water, tempered p'raps with Attic salt) -
+   And not at once invent that mild, luxurious,
+And artful beverage, Beer.  How the digestion
+Got on without it, is a startling question.
+
+Had they digestions? and an actual body
+   Such as dyspepsia might make attacks on?
+Were they abstract ideas--(like Tom Noddy
+   And Mr. Briggs)--or men, like Jones and Jackson?
+Then Nectar--was that beer, or whiskey-toddy?
+   Some say the Gaelic mixture, _I_ the Saxon:
+I think a strict adherence to the latter
+Might make some Scots less pigheaded, and fatter.
+
+Besides, Bon Gaultier definitely shews
+   That the real beverage for feasting gods on
+Is a soft compound, grateful to the nose
+   And also to the palate, known as 'Hodgson.'
+I know a man--a tailor's son--who rose
+   To be a peer:  and this I would lay odds on,
+(Though in his Memoirs it may not appear,)
+That that man owed his rise to copious Beer.
+
+O Beer!  O Hodgson, Guinness, Allsop, Bass!
+   Names that should be on every infant's tongue!
+Shall days and months and years and centuries pass,
+   And still your merits be unrecked, unsung?
+Oh! I have gazed into my foaming glass,
+   And wished that lyre could yet again be strung
+Which once rang prophet-like through Greece, and taught her
+Misguided sons that "the best drink was water."
+
+How would he now recant that wild opinion,
+   And sing--as would that I could sing--of you!
+I was not born (alas!) the "Muses' minion,"
+   I'm not poetical, not even blue:
+And he (we know) but strives with waxen pinion,
+   Whoe'er he is that entertains the view
+Of emulating Pindar, and will be
+Sponsor at last to some now nameless sea.
+
+Oh! when the green slopes of Arcadia burned
+   With all the lustre of the dying day,
+And on Cithaeron's brow the reaper turned,
+   (Humming, of course, in his delightful way,
+How Lycidas was dead, and how concerned
+   The Nymphs were when they saw his lifeless clay;
+And how rock told to rock the dreadful story
+That poor young Lycidas was gone to glory:)
+
+What would that lone and labouring soul have given,
+   At that soft moment, for a pewter pot!
+How had the mists that dimmed his eye been riven,
+   And Lycidas and sorrow all forgot!
+If his own grandmother had died unshriven,
+   In two short seconds he'd have recked it not;
+Such power hath Beer.  The heart which Grief hath canker'd
+Hath one unfailing remedy--the Tankard.
+
+Coffee is good, and so no doubt is cocoa;
+   Tea did for Johnson and the Chinamen:
+When 'Dulce et desipere in loco'
+   Was written, real Falernian winged the pen.
+When a rapt audience has encored 'Fra Poco'
+   Or 'Casta Diva,' I have heard that then
+The Prima Donna, smiling herself out,
+Recruits her flagging powers with bottled stout.
+
+But what is coffee, but a noxious berry,
+   Born to keep used-up Londoners awake?
+What is Falernian, what is Port or Sherry,
+   But vile concoctions to make dull heads ache?
+Nay stout itself--(though good with oysters, very) -
+   Is not a thing your reading man should take.
+He that would shine, and petrify his tutor,
+Should drink draught Allsop in its "native pewter."
+
+But hark! a sound is stealing on my ear -
+   A soft and silvery sound--I know it well.
+Its tinkling tells me that a time is near
+   Precious to me--it is the Dinner Bell.
+O blessed Bell!  Thou bringest beef and beer,
+   Thou bringest good things more than tongue may tell:
+Seared is (of course) my heart--but unsubdued
+Is, and shall be, my appetite for food.
+
+I go.  Untaught and feeble is my pen:
+   But on one statement I may safely venture;
+That few of our most highly gifted men
+   Have more appreciation of the trencher.
+I go.  One pound of British beef, and then
+   What Mr. Swiveller called a "modest quencher;"
+That home-returning, I may 'soothly say,'
+"Fate cannot touch me:  I have dined to-day."
+
+
+
+ODE TO TOBACCO.
+
+
+
+Thou who, when fears attack,
+Bid'st them avaunt, and Black
+Care, at the horseman's back
+   Perching, unseatest;
+Sweet when the morn is grey;
+Sweet, when they've cleared away
+Lunch; and at close of day
+   Possibly sweetest:
+
+I have a liking old
+For thee, though manifold
+Stories, I know, are told,
+   Not to thy credit;
+How one (or two at most)
+Drops make a cat a ghost -
+Useless, except to roast -
+   Doctors have said it:
+
+How they who use fusees
+All grow by slow degrees
+Brainless as chimpanzees,
+   Meagre as lizards;
+Go mad, and beat their wives;
+Plunge (after shocking lives)
+Razors and carving knives
+   Into their gizzards.
+
+Confound such knavish tricks!
+Yet know I five or six
+Smokers who freely mix
+   Still with their neighbours;
+Jones--who, I'm glad to say,
+Asked leave of Mrs. J.) -
+Daily absorbs a clay
+   After his labours.
+
+Cats may have had their goose
+Cooked by tobacco-juice;
+Still why deny its use
+   Thoughtfully taken?
+We're not as tabbies are:
+Smith, take a fresh cigar!
+Jones, the tobacco-jar!
+   Here's to thee, Bacon!
+
+
+
+DOVER TO MUNICH.
+
+
+
+Farewell, farewell!  Before our prow
+   Leaps in white foam the noisy channel,
+A tourist's cap is on my brow,
+   My legs are cased in tourists' flannel:
+
+Around me gasp the invalids -
+   (The quantity to-night is fearful) -
+I take a brace or so of weeds,
+   And feel (as yet) extremely cheerful.
+
+The night wears on:- my thirst I quench
+   With one imperial pint of porter;
+Then drop upon a casual bench -
+   (The bench is short, but I am shorter) -
+
+Place 'neath my head the harve-sac
+   Which I have stowed my little all in,
+And sleep, though moist about the back,
+   Serenely in an old tarpaulin.
+
+* * *
+
+Bed at Ostend at 5 A.M.
+   Breakfast at 6, and train 6.30.
+Tickets to Konigswinter (mem.
+   The seats objectionably dirty).
+
+And onward through those dreary flats
+   We move, with scanty space to sit on,
+Flanked by stout girls with steeple hats,
+   And waists that paralyse a Briton; -
+
+By many a tidy little town,
+   Where tidy little Fraus sit knitting;
+(The men's pursuits are, lying down,
+   Smoking perennial pipes, and spitting;)
+
+And doze, and execrate the heat,
+   And wonder how far off Cologne is,
+And if we shall get aught to eat,
+   Till we get there, save raw polonies:
+
+Until at last the "grey old pile"
+   Is seen, is past, and three hours later
+We're ordering steaks, and talking vile
+   Mock-German to an Austrian waiter.
+
+* * *
+
+Konigswinter, hateful Konigswinter!
+   Burying-place of all I loved so well!
+Never did the most extensive printer
+   Print a tale so dark as thou could'st tell!
+
+In the sapphire West the eve yet lingered,
+   Bathed in kindly light those hill-tops cold;
+Fringed each cloud, and, stooping rosy-fingered,
+   Changed Rhine's waters into molten gold; -
+
+While still nearer did his light waves splinter
+   Into silvery shafts the streaming light;
+And I said I loved thee, Konigswinter,
+   For the glory that was thine that night.
+
+And we gazed, till slowly disappearing,
+   Like a day-dream, passed the pageant by,
+And I saw but those lone hills, uprearing
+   Dull dark shapes against a hueless sky.
+
+Then I turned, and on those bright hopes pondered
+   Whereof yon gay fancies were the type;
+And my hand mechanically wandered
+   Towards my left-hand pocket for a pipe.
+
+Ah! why starts each eyeball from its socket,
+   As, in Hamlet, start the guilty Queen's?
+There, deep-hid in its accustomed pocket,
+   Lay my sole pipe, smashed to smithereens!
+
+* * *
+
+On, on the vessel steals;
+Round go the paddle-wheels,
+And now the tourist feels
+   As he should;
+For king-like rolls the Rhine,
+And the scenery's divine,
+And the victuals and the wine
+   Rather good.
+
+From every crag we pass'll
+Rise up some hoar old castle;
+The hanging fir-groves tassel
+   Every slope;
+And the vine her lithe arms stretches
+O'er peasants singing catches -
+And you'll make no end of sketches,
+   I should hope.
+
+We've a nun here (called Therese),
+Two couriers out of place,
+One Yankee, with a face
+   Like a ferret's:
+And three youths in scarlet caps
+Drinking chocolate and schnapps -
+A diet which perhaps
+   Has its merits.
+
+And day again declines:
+In shadow sleep the vines,
+And the last ray through the pines
+   Feebly glows,
+Then sinks behind yon ridge;
+And the usual evening midge
+Is settling on the bridge
+   Of my nose.
+
+And keen's the air and cold,
+And the sheep are in the fold,
+And Night walks sable-stoled
+   Through the trees;
+And on the silent river
+The floating starbeams quiver; -
+And now, the saints deliver
+   Us from fleas.
+
+* * *
+
+Avenues of broad white houses,
+   Basking in the noontide glare; -
+Streets, which foot of traveller shrinks from,
+   As on hot plates shrinks the bear; -
+
+Elsewhere lawns, and vista'd gardens,
+   Statues white, and cool arcades,
+Where at eve the German warrior
+   Winks upon the German maids; -
+
+Such is Munich:- broad and stately,
+   Rich of hue, and fair of form;
+But, towards the end of August,
+   Unequivocally WARM.
+
+There, the long dim galleries threading,
+   May the artist's eye behold,
+Breathing from the "deathless canvass"
+   Records of the years of old:
+
+Pallas there, and Jove, and Juno,
+   "Take" once more "their walks abroad,"
+Under Titian's fiery woodlands
+   And the saffron skies of Claude:
+
+There the Amazons of Rubens
+   Lift the failing arm to strike,
+And the pale light falls in masses
+   On the horsemen of Vandyke;
+
+And in Berghem's pools reflected
+   Hang the cattle's graceful shapes,
+And Murillo's soft boy-faces
+   Laugh amid the Seville grapes;
+
+And all purest, loveliest fancies
+   That in poets' souls may dwell
+Started into shape and substance
+   At the touch of Raphael. -
+
+Lo! her wan arms folded meekly,
+   And the glory of her hair
+Falling as a robe around her,
+   Kneels the Magdalene in prayer;
+
+And the white-robed Virgin-mother
+   Smiles, as centuries back she smiled,
+Half in gladness, half in wonder,
+   On the calm face of her Child:-
+
+And that mighty Judgment-vision
+   Tells how man essayed to climb
+Up the ladder of the ages,
+   Past the frontier-walls of Time;
+
+Heard the trumpet-echoes rolling
+   Through the phantom-peopled sky,
+And the still voice bid this mortal
+   Put on immortality.
+
+* * *
+
+Thence we turned, what time the blackbird
+   Pipes to vespers from his perch,
+And from out the clattering city
+   Pass'd into the silent church;
+
+Marked the shower of sunlight breaking
+   Thro' the crimson panes o'erhead,
+And on pictured wall and window
+   Read the histories of the dead:
+
+Till the kneelers round us, rising,
+   Cross'd their foreheads and were gone;
+And o'er aisle and arch and cornice,
+   Layer on layer, the night came on.
+
+
+
+CHARADES.
+
+
+
+I.
+
+She stood at Greenwich, motionless amid
+   The ever-shifting crowd of passengers.
+I marked a big tear quivering on the lid
+   Of her deep-lustrous eye, and knew that hers
+   Were days of bitterness.  But, "Oh! what stirs"
+I said "such storm within so fair a breast?"
+   Even as I spoke, two apoplectic curs
+Came feebly up:  with one wild cry she prest
+Each singly to her heart, and faltered, "Heaven be blest!"
+
+Yet once again I saw her, from the deck
+   Of a black ship that steamed towards Blackwall.
+She walked upon MY FIRST.  Her stately neck
+   Bent o'er an object shrouded in her shawl:
+   I could not see the tears--the glad tears--fall,
+Yet knew they fell.  And "Ah," I said, "not puppies,
+   Seen unexpectedly, could lift the pall
+From hearts who KNOW what tasting misery's cup is,
+As Niobe's, or mine, or Mr. William Guppy's."
+
+* * *
+
+Spake John Grogblossom the coachman to Eliza Spinks the cook:
+"Mrs. Spinks," says he, "I've foundered:  'Liza dear, I'm overtook.
+Druv into a corner reglar, puzzled as a babe unborn;
+Speak the word, my blessed 'Liza; speak, and John the coachman's yourn."
+
+Then Eliza Spinks made answer, blushing, to the coachman John:
+"John, I'm born and bred a spinster:  I've begun and I'll go on.
+Endless cares and endless worrits, well I knows it, has a wife:
+Cooking for a genteel family, John, it's a goluptious life!
+
+"I gets 20 pounds per annum--tea and things o' course not reckoned, -
+There's a cat that eats the butter, takes the coals, and breaks MY
+SECOND:
+There's soci'ty--James the footman;--(not that I look after him;
+But he's aff'ble in his manners, with amazing length of limb;) -
+
+"Never durst the missis enter here until I've said 'Come in':
+If I saw the master peeping, I'd catch up the rolling-pin.
+Christmas-boxes, that's a something; perkisites, that's something too;
+And I think, take all together, John, I won't be on with you."
+
+John the coachman took his hat up, for he thought he'd had enough;
+Rubbed an elongated forehead with a meditative cuff;
+Paused before the stable doorway; said, when there, in accents mild,
+"She's a fine young 'oman, cook is; but that's where it is, she's
+spiled."
+
+* * *
+
+I have read in some not marvellous tale,
+   (Or if I have not, I've dreamed)
+Of one who filled up the convivial cup
+   Till the company round him seemed
+
+To be vanished and gone, tho' the lamps upon
+   Their face as aforetime gleamed:
+And his head sunk down, and a Lethe crept
+O'er his powerful brain, and the young man slept.
+
+Then they laid him with care in his moonlit bed:
+   But first--having thoughtfully fetched some tar -
+Adorned him with feathers, aware that the weather's
+   Uncertainty brings on at nights catarrh.
+
+They staid in his room till the sun was high:
+   But still did the feathered one give no sign
+Of opening a peeper--he might be a sleeper
+   Such as rests on the Northern or Midland line.
+
+At last he woke, and with profound
+Bewilderment he gazed around;
+Dropped one, then both feet to the ground,
+   But never spake a word:
+
+Then to my WHOLE he made his way;
+Took one long lingering survey;
+And softly, as he stole away,
+   Remarked, "By Jove, a bird!"
+
+
+II.
+
+
+If you've seen a short man swagger tow'rds the footlights at Shoreditch,
+Sing out "Heave aho! my hearties," and perpetually hitch
+Up, by an ingenious movement, trousers innocent of brace,
+Briskly flourishing a cudgel in his pleased companion's face;
+
+If he preluded with hornpipes each successive thing he did,
+From a sun-browned cheek extracting still an ostentatious quid;
+And expectorated freely, and occasionally cursed:-
+Then have you beheld, depicted by a master's hand, MY FIRST.
+
+O my countryman! if ever from thy arm the bolster sped,
+In thy school-days, with precision at a young companion's head;
+If 'twas thine to lodge the marble in the centre of the ring,
+Or with well-directed pebble make the sitting hen take wing:
+
+Then do thou--each fair May morning, when the blue lake is as glass,
+And the gossamers are twinkling star-like in the beaded grass;
+When the mountain-bee is sipping fragrance from the bluebell's lip,
+And the bathing-woman tells you, Now's your time to take a dip:
+
+When along the misty valleys fieldward winds the lowing herd,
+And the early worm is being dropped on by the early bird;
+And Aurora hangs her jewels from the bending rose's cup,
+And the myriad voice of Nature calls thee to MY SECOND up:-
+
+Hie thee to the breezy common, where the melancholy goose
+Stalks, and the astonished donkey finds that he is really loose;
+There amid green fern and furze-bush shalt thou soon MY WHOLE behold,
+Rising 'bull-eyed and majestic'--as Olympus queen of old:
+
+Kneel,--at a respectful distance,--as they kneeled to her, and try
+With judicious hand to put a ball into that ball-less eye:
+Till a stiffness seize thy elbows, and the general public wake -
+Then return, and, clear of conscience, walk into thy well-earned steak.
+
+
+III.
+
+
+Ere yet "knowledge for the million"
+   Came out "neatly bound in boards;"
+When like Care upon a pillion
+   Matrons rode behind their lords:
+Rarely, save to hear the Rector,
+   Forth did younger ladies roam;
+Making pies, and brewing nectar
+   From the gooseberry-trees at home.
+
+They'd not dreamed of Pan or Vevay;
+   Ne'er should into blossom burst
+At the ball or at the levee;
+   Never come, in fact, MY FIRST:
+Nor illumine cards by dozens
+   With some labyrinthine text,
+Nor work smoking-caps for cousins
+   Who were pounding at MY NEXT.
+
+Now have skirts, and minds, grown ampler;
+   Now not all they seek to do
+Is create upon a sampler
+   Beasts which Buffon never knew:
+But their venturous muslins rustle
+   O'er the cragstone and the snow,
+Or at home their biceps muscle
+   Grows by practising the bow.
+
+Worthier they those dames who, fable
+   Says, rode "palfreys" to the war
+With gigantic Thanes, whose "sable
+   Destriers caracoled" before;
+Smiled, as--springing from the war-horse
+   As men spring in modern 'cirques' -
+They plunged, ponderous as a four-horse
+   Coach, among the vanished Turks:-
+
+In the good times when the jester
+   Asked the monarch how he was,
+And the landlady addrest her
+   Guests as 'gossip' or as 'coz';
+When the Templar said, "Gramercy,"
+   Or, "'Twas shrewdly thrust, i' fegs,"
+To Sir Halbert or Sir Percy
+   As they knocked him off his legs:
+
+And, by way of mild reminders
+   That he needed coin, the Knight
+Day by day extracted grinders
+   From the howling Israelite:
+And MY WHOLE in merry Sherwood
+   Sent, with preterhuman luck,
+Missiles--not of steel but firwood -
+   Thro' the two-mile-distant buck.
+
+
+IV.
+
+
+      Evening threw soberer hue
+      Over the blue sky, and the few
+      Poplars that grew just in the view
+   Of the hall of Sir Hugo de Wynkle:
+      "Answer me true," pleaded Sir Hugh,
+      (Striving to woo no matter who,)
+      "What shall I do, Lady, for you?
+   'Twill be done, ere your eye may twinkle.
+Shall I borrow the wand of a Moorish enchanter,
+And bid a decanter contain the Levant, or
+The brass from the face of a Mormonite ranter?
+Shall I go for the mule of the Spanish Infantar -
+(That _R_, for the sake of the line, we must grant her,) -
+And race with the foul fiend, and beat in a canter,
+Like that first of equestrians Tam o' Shanter?
+I talk not mere banter--say not that I can't, or
+By this MY FIRST--(a Virginia planter
+Sold it me to kill rats)--I will die instanter."
+   The Lady bended her ivory neck, and
+   Whispered mournfully, "Go for--MY SECOND."
+   She said, and the red from Sir Hugh's cheek fled,
+   And "Nay," did he say, as he stalked away
+      The fiercest of injured men:
+   "Twice have I humbled my haughty soul,
+   And on bended knee I have pressed MY WHOLE -
+      But I never will press it again!"
+
+
+V.
+
+
+On pinnacled St. Mary's
+   Lingers the setting sun;
+Into the street the blackguards
+   Are skulking one by one:
+Butcher and Boots and Bargeman
+   Lay pipe and pewter down;
+And with wild shout come tumbling out
+   To join the Town and Gown.
+
+And now the undergraduates
+   Come forth by twos and threes,
+From the broad tower of Trinity,
+   From the green gate of Caius:
+The wily bargeman marks them,
+   And swears to do his worst;
+To turn to impotence their strength,
+   And their beauty to MY FIRST.
+
+But before Corpus gateway
+   MY SECOND first arose,
+When Barnacles the freshman
+   Was pinned upon the nose:
+Pinned on the nose by Boxer,
+   Who brought a hobnailed herd
+From Barnwell, where he kept a van,
+Being indeed a dogsmeat man,
+Vendor of terriers, blue or tan,
+   And dealer in MY THIRD.
+
+'Twere long to tell how Boxer
+   Was 'countered' on the cheek,
+And knocked into the middle
+   Of the ensuing week:
+How Barnacles the Freshman
+   Was asked his name and college;
+And how he did the fatal facts
+   Reluctantly acknowledge.
+
+He called upon the Proctor
+   Next day at half-past ten;
+Men whispered that the Freshman cut
+   A different figure then:-
+That the brass forsook his forehead,
+   The iron fled his soul,
+As with blanched lip and visage wan
+Before the stony-hearted Don
+   He kneeled upon MY WHOLE.
+
+
+VI.
+
+
+Sikes, housebreaker, of Houndsditch,
+   Habitually swore;
+But so surpassingly profane
+   He never was before,
+As on a night in winter,
+   When--softly as he stole
+In the dim light from stair to stair,
+Noiseless as boys who in her lair
+Seek to surprise a fat old hare -
+He barked his shinbone, unaware
+   Encountering MY WHOLE.
+
+As pours the Anio plainward,
+   When rains have swollen the dykes,
+So, with such noise, poured down MY FIRST,
+   Stirred by the shins of Sikes.
+The Butler Bibulus heard it;
+   And straightway ceased to snore,
+And sat up, like an egg on end,
+   While men might count a score:
+Then spake he to Tigerius,
+   A Buttons bold was he:
+"Buttons, I think there's thieves about;
+Just strike a light and tumble out;
+If you can't find one, go without,
+   And see what you may see."
+
+But now was all the household,
+   Almost, upon its legs,
+Each treading carefully about
+   As if they trod on eggs.
+With robe far-streaming issued
+   Paterfamilias forth;
+And close behind him,--stout and true
+   And tender as the North, -
+Came Mrs. P., supporting
+   On her broad arm her fourth.
+
+Betsy the nurse, who never
+   From largest beetle ran,
+And--conscious p'raps of pleasing caps -
+   The housemaids, formed the van:
+And Bibulus the Butler,
+   His calm brows slightly arched;
+(No mortal wight had ere that night
+   Seen him with shirt unstarched;)
+And Bob, the shockhaired knifeboy,
+   Wielding two Sheffield blades,
+And James Plush of the sinewy legs,
+   The love of lady's maids:
+And charwoman and chaplain
+   Stood mingled in a mass,
+And "Things," thought he of Houndsditch,
+   "Is come to a pretty pass."
+
+Beyond all things a Baby
+   Is to the schoolgirl dear;
+Next to herself the nursemaid loves
+   Her dashing grenadier;
+Only with life the sailor
+   Parts from the British flag;
+While one hope lingers, the cracksman's fingers
+   Drop not his hard-earned 'swag.'
+
+But, as hares do MY SECOND
+   Thro' green Calabria's copses,
+As females vanish at the sight
+   Of short-horns and of wopses;
+So, dropping forks and teaspoons,
+   The pride of Houndsditch fled,
+Dumbfoundered by the hue and cry
+   He'd raised up overhead.
+
+* * *
+
+They gave him--did the Judges -
+   As much as was his due.
+And, Saxon, should'st thou e'er be led
+   To deem this tale untrue;
+Then--any night in winter,
+   When the cold north wind blows,
+And bairns are told to keep out cold
+   By tallowing the nose:
+When round the fire the elders
+   Are gathered in a bunch,
+And the girls are doing crochet,
+   And the boys are reading Punch:-
+Go thou and look in Leech's book;
+   There haply shalt thou spy
+A stout man on a staircase stand,
+With aspect anything but bland,
+And rub his right shin with his hand,
+   To witness if I lie.
+
+
+
+PROVERBIAL PHILOSOPHY.
+
+
+
+Introductory
+
+Art thou beautiful, O my daughter, as the budding rose of April?
+Are all thy motions music, and is poetry throned in thine eye?
+Then hearken unto me; and I will make the bud a fair flower,
+I will plant it upon the bank of Elegance, and water it with the water of
+Cologne;
+And in the season it shall "come out," yea bloom, the pride of the
+parterre;
+Ladies shall marvel at its beauty, and a Lord shall  pluck it at the
+last.
+
+Of Propriety.
+
+Study first Propriety:  for she is indeed the Polestar
+Which shall guide the artless maiden through the mazes of Vanity Fair;
+Nay, she is the golden chain which holdeth together Society;
+The lamp by whose light young Psyche shall approach unblamed her Eros.
+Verily Truth is as Eve, which was ashamed being naked;
+Wherefore doth Propriety dress her with the fair foliage of artifice:
+And when she is drest, behold! she knoweth not herself again. -
+I walked in the Forest; and above me stood the Yew,
+Stood like a slumbering giant, shrouded in impenetrable shade;
+Then I pass'd into the citizen's garden, and marked a tree clipt into
+shape,
+(The giant's locks had been shorn by the Dalilahshears of Decorum;)
+And I said, "Surely nature is goodly; but how much goodlier is Art!"
+I heard the wild notes of the lark floating far over the blue sky,
+And my foolish heart went after him, and lo! I blessed him as he rose;
+Foolish! for far better is the trained boudoir bulfinch,
+Which pipeth the semblance of a tune, and mechanically draweth up water:
+And the reinless steed of the desert, though his neck be clothed with
+thunder,
+Must yield to him that danceth and 'moveth in the circles' at Astley's.
+For verily, O my daughter, the world is a masquerade,
+And God made thee one thing, that thou mightest make thyself another:
+A maiden's heart is as champagne, ever aspiring and struggling upwards,
+And it needeth that its motions be checked by the silvered cork of
+Propriety:
+He that can afford the price, his be the precious treasure,
+Let him drink deeply of its sweetness, nor grumble if it tasteth of the
+cork.
+
+OF FRIENDSHIP.
+
+Choose judiciously thy friends; for to discard them is undesirable,
+Yet it is better to drop thy friends, O my daughter, than to drop thy
+'H's'.
+Dost thou know a wise woman? yea, wiser than the children of light?
+Hath she a position? and a title? and are her parties in the Morning
+Post?
+If thou dost, cleave unto her, and give up unto her thy body and mind;
+Think with her ideas, and distribute thy smiles at her bidding:
+So shalt thou become like unto her; and thy manners shall be "formed,"
+And thy name shall be a Sesame, at which the doors of the great shall fly
+open:
+Thou shalt know every Peer, his arms, and the date of his creation,
+His pedigree and their intermarriages, and cousins to the sixth remove:
+Thou shalt kiss the hand of Royalty, and lo! in next morning's papers,
+Side by side with rumours of wars, and stories of shipwrecks and sieges,
+Shall appear thy name, and the minutiae of thy head-dress and petticoat,
+For an enraptured public to muse upon over their matutinal muffin.
+
+Of Reading.
+
+Read not Milton, for he is dry; nor Shakespeare, for he wrote of common
+life;
+Nor Scott, for his romances, though fascinating, are yet intelligible:
+Nor Thackeray, for he is a Hogarth, a photographer who flattereth not:
+Nor Kingsley, for he shall teach thee that thou shouldest not dream, but
+do.
+Read incessantly thy Burke; that Burke who, nobler than he of old,
+Treateth of the Peer and Peeress, the truly Sublime and Beautiful:
+Likewise study the "creations" of "the Prince of modern Romance;"
+Sigh over Leonard the Martyr, and smile on Pelham the puppy:
+Learn how "love is the dram-drinking of existence;"
+And how we "invoke, in the Gadara of our still closets,
+The beautiful ghost of the Ideal, with the simple wand of the pen."
+Listen how Maltravers and the orphan "forgot all but love,"
+And how Devereux's family chaplain "made and unmade kings:"
+How Eugene Aram, though a thief, a liar, and a murderer,
+Yet, being intellectual, was amongst the noblest of mankind.
+So shalt thou live in a world peopled with heroes and master-spirits;
+And if thou canst not realise the Ideal, thou shalt at least idealise the
+Real.
+
+
+
+LYCIDAS.
+
+
+
+Yet once more, O ye laurels! and once more
+Ye myrtles brown, with ivy never sere,
+I come to pluck your berries harsh and crude,
+And with forced fingers rude
+Shatter your leaves before the mellowing year.
+Bitter constraint, and sad occasion dear,
+Compels me to disturb your season due;
+For Lycidas is dead, dead ere his prime,
+Young Lycidas, and hath not left his peer:
+Who would not sing for Lycidas?  He knew
+Himself to sing, and build the lofty rhyme.
+He must not float upon his watery bier
+Unwept, and welter to the parching wind,
+Without the meed of some melodious tear.
+   Begin then, sisters, of the sacred well,
+That from beneath the seat of Jove doth spring;
+Begin, and somewhat loudly sweep the string.
+Hence with denial vain, and coy excuse,
+So may some gentle muse
+With lucky words favour my destined urn,
+And, as he passes, turn
+And bid fair peace be to my sable shroud:
+For we were nursed upon the self-same hill,
+Fed the same flock by fountain, shade, and rill.
+   Together both, ere the high lawns appeared
+Under the opening eyelids of the morn,
+We drove afield, and both together heard
+What time the gray fly winds her sultry horn,
+Battening our flocks with the fresh dews of night,
+Oft till the star that rose, at evening, bright,
+Toward Heaven's descent had sloped his westering wheel.
+Meanwhile the rural ditties were not mute,
+Tempered to the oaten flute;
+Rough satyrs danced, and fauns with cloven heel
+From the glad sound would not be absent long,
+And old Damaetas loved to hear our song.
+   But oh, the heavy change, now thou art gone,
+Now thou art gone, and never must return!
+Thee, shepherd, thee the woods, and desert caves
+With wild thyme and the gadding vine o'ergrown,
+And all their echoes mourn.
+The willows, and the hazel copses green,
+Shall now no more be seen,
+Fanning their joyous leaves to thy soft lays.
+As killing as the canker to the rose,
+Or taint-worm to the weanling herds that graze,
+Or frost to flowers, that their gay wardrobe wear,
+When first the white-thorn blows;
+Such, Lycidas, thy loss to shepherd's ear
+   Where were ye, nymphs, when the remorseless deep
+Closed o'er the head of your loved Lycidas?
+For neither were ye playing on the steep,
+Where your old bards, the famous Druids, lie;
+Nor on the shaggy top of Mona high,
+Nor yet where Deva spreads her wizard stream:
+Ay me!  I fondly dream!
+Had ye been there, for what could that have done?
+What could the muse herself that Orpheus bore,
+The muse herself for her enchanting son,
+Whom universal nature did lament,
+When by the rout that made the hideous roar,
+His gory visage down the stream was sent,
+Down the swift Hebrus to the Lesbian shore?
+   Alas! what boots it with incessant care
+To tend the homely slighted shepherd's trade,
+And strictly meditate the thankless muse?
+Were it not better done as others use,
+To sport with Amaryllis in the shade,
+Or with the tangles of Neaera's hair?
+Fame is the spur that the clear spirit doth raise
+(That last infirmity of noble mind)
+To scorn delights, and live laborious days,
+But the fair guerdon when we hope to find,
+And think to burst out into sudden blaze,
+Comes the blind fury with the abhorred shears,
+And slits the thin-spun life.  "But not the praise,"
+Phoebus replied, and touched my trembling ears;
+"Fame is no plant that grows on mortal soil,
+Nor in the glistering foil
+Set off to the world, nor in broad rumour lies,
+But lives and spreads aloft by those pure eyes,
+And perfect witness of all-judging Jove;
+As he pronounces lastly on each deed,
+Of so much fame in Heaven expect thy meed."
+   O fountain Arethuse, and thou honoured flood,
+Smooth-sliding Mincius, crowned with vocal reeds,
+That strain I heard was of a higher mood:
+But now my oat proceeds,
+And listens to the herald of the sea
+That came in Neptune's plea;
+He asked the waves, and asked the felon winds,
+What hard mishap had doomed this gentle swain?
+And questioned every gust of rugged wings,
+That blows from off each beaked promontory:
+They knew not of his story,
+And sage Hippotades their answer brings,
+That not a blast was from his dungeon strayed,
+The air was calm, and on the level brine
+Sleek Panope with all her sisters played.
+It was that fatal and perfidious bark
+Built in the eclipse, and rigged with curses dark,
+That sunk so low that sacred head of thine.
+   Next Camus, reverend sire, went footing slow,
+His mantle hairy, and his bonnet sedge,
+Inwrought with figures dim, and on the edge,
+Like to that sanguine flower inscribed with woe.
+"Ah! who hath reft," quoth he, "my dearest pledge?"
+Last came, and last did go,
+The pilot of the Galilean lake,
+Two massy keys he bore, of metals twain
+(The golden opes, the iron shuts amain).
+He shook his mitred locks, and stern bespake:
+"How well could I have spared for thee, young swain,
+Enow of such as for their bellies' sake
+Creep, and intrude, and climb into the fold!
+Of other care they little reckoning make,
+Than how to scramble at the shearer's feast,
+And shove away the worthy bidden guest;
+Blind mouths! that scarce themselves know how to hold
+A sheep-hook, or have learned aught else the least
+That to the faithful herdsman's art belongs!
+What reeks it them?  What need they?  They are sped;
+And when they list, their lean and flashy songs
+Grate on their scrannel pipes of wretched straw;
+The hungry sheep look up, and are not fed,
+But swollen with wind, and the rank mist they draw,
+Rot inwardly, and foul contagion spread:
+Besides what the grim wolf with privy paw
+Daily devours apace, and nothing said.
+But that two-handed engine at the door
+Stands ready to smite once, and smite no more."
+   Return, Alpheus, the dread voice is past,
+That shrunk thy streams; return, Sicilian muse,
+And call the vales, and bid them hither cast
+Their bells and flowerets of a thousand hues.
+Ye valleys low, where the mild whispers use
+Of shades, and wanton winds, and gushing brooks,
+On whose fresh lap the swart star sparely looks,
+Throw hither all your quaint enamelled eyes,
+That on the green turf suck the honeyed showers,
+And purple all the ground with vernal flowers.
+Bring the rathe primrose that forsaken dies,
+The tufted crow-toe, and pale jessamine,
+The white pink, and the pansy freaked with jet,
+The glowing violet,
+The musk-rose, and the well-attired woodbine,
+With cowslips wan that hang the pensive head,
+And every flower that sad embroidery wears:
+Bid amaranthus all his beauty shed,
+And daffodillies fill their cups with tears,
+To strow the laureate hearse where Lycid lies.
+For so to interpose a little ease,
+Let our frail thoughts dally with false surmise.
+Ay me! whilst thee the shores and sounding seas
+Wash far away, where ere thy bones are hurled,
+Whether beyond the stormy Hebrides,
+Where thou, perhaps, under the whelming tide
+Visit'st the bottom of the monstrous world;
+Or whether thou, to our moist vows denied,
+Sleep'st by the fable of Bellerus old,
+Where the great vision of the guarded mount
+Looks toward Namancos and Bayona's hold;
+Look homeward, angel now, and melt with ruth:
+And, O ye dolphins, waft the hapless youth.
+   Weep no more, woeful shepherds, weep no more,
+For Lycidas your sorrow is not dead,
+Sunk though he be beneath the watery floor;
+So sinks the day-star in the ocean-bed,
+And yet anon repairs his drooping head,
+And tricks his beams, and with new-spangled ore
+Flames in the forehead of the morning sky:
+So Lycidas sunk low, but mounted high,
+Through the dear might of him that walked the waves,
+Where other groves and other streams along,
+With nectar pure his oozy locks he laves,
+And hears the unexpressive nuptial song,
+In the blest kingdoms meek of joy and love.
+There entertain him all the saints above,
+In solemn troops, and sweet societies,
+That sing, and singing in their glory move,
+And wipe the tears for ever from his eyes.
+Now, Lycidas, the shepherds weep no more;
+Henceforth thou art the genius of the shore,
+In thy large recompense, and shalt be good
+To all that wander in that perilous flood.
+   Thus sang the uncouth swain to the oaks and rills,
+While the still morn went out with sandals gray,
+He touched the tender stops of various quills,
+With eager thought warbling his Doric lay:
+And now the sun had stretched out all the hills,
+And now was dropped into the western bay;
+At last he rose, and twitched his mantle blue,
+Tomorrow to fresh woods, and pastures new.
+
+
+
+LYCIDAS.
+
+
+
+En! iterum laurus, iterum salvete myricae
+Pallentes, nullique hederae quae ceditis aevo.
+Has venio baccas, quanquam sapor asper acerbis,
+Decerptum, quassumque manu folia ipsa proterva,
+Maturescentem praevortens improbus annum.
+Causa gravis, pia cansa, subest, et amara deum lex;
+Nec jam sponte mea vobis rata tempora turbo.
+Nam periit Lycidas, periit superante juventa
+Imberbis Lycidas, quo non praestantior alter.
+Quis cantare super Lycida neget?  Ipse quoque artem
+Norat Apollineam, versumque imponere versu
+Non nullo vitreum fas innatet ille feretrum
+Flente, voluteturque arentes corpus ad auras,
+Indotatum adeo et lacrymae vocalis egenum.
+   Quare agite, o sacri fontis queis cura, sorores,
+Cui sub inaccessi sella Jovis exit origo:
+Incipite, et sonitu graviore impellite chordas.
+Lingua procul male prompta loqui, suasorque morarum
+Sit pudor:  alloquiis ut mollior una secundis
+Pieridum faveat, cui mox ego destiner, urnae:
+Et gressus praetergrediens convertat, et "Esto"
+Dicat "amoena quies atra tibi veste latenti:"
+Uno namque jugo duo nutribamur:  eosdem
+Pavit uterque greges ad fontem et rivulum et umbram.
+   Tempore nos illo, nemorum convexa priusquam,
+Aurora reserante oculos, caepere videri,
+Urgebamus equos ad pascua:  novimus horam
+Aridus audiri solitus qua clangor asili;
+Rore recentes greges passi pinguescere noctis
+Saepius, albuerat donec quod vespere sidus
+Hesperios axes prono inclinasset Olympo.
+At pastorales non cessavere camoenae,
+Fistula disparibus quas temperat apta cicutis:
+Saltabant Satyri informes, nec murmure laeto
+Capripedes potuere diu se avertere Fauni;
+Damaetasque modos nostros longaevus amabat.
+   Jamque, relicta tibi, quantum mutata videntur
+Rura--relicta tibi, cui non spes ulla regressus!
+Te sylvae, teque antra, puer, deserta ferarum,
+Incultis obducta thymis ac vite sequaci,
+Decessisse gemunt; gemitusque reverberat Echo.
+Non salices, non glauca ergo coryleta videbo
+Molles ad numeros laetum motare cacumen:-
+Quale rosis scabies; quam formidabile vermis
+Depulso jam lacte gregi, dum tondet agellos;
+Sive quod, indutis verna jam veste, pruinae
+Floribus, albet ubi primum paliurus in agris:
+Tale fuit nostris, Lycidam periisse, bubulcis.
+   Qua, Nymphae, latuistis, ubi crudele profundum
+Delicias Lycidam vestras sub vortice torsit?
+Nam neque vos scopulis tum ludebatis in illis
+Quos veteres, Druidae, Vates, illustria servant
+Nomina; nec celsae setoso in culmine Monae,
+Nec, quos Deva locos magicis amplectitur undis.
+Vae mihi! delusos exercent somnia sensus:
+Venissetis enim; numquid venisse juvaret?
+Numquid Pieris ipsa parens interfuit Orphei,
+Pieris ipsa suae sobolis, qui carmine rexit
+Corda virum, quem terra olim, quam magna, dolebat,
+Tempore quo, dirum auditu strepitante caterva,
+Ora secundo amni missa, ac foedata cruore,
+Lesbia praecipitans ad litora detulit Hebrus?
+   Eheu quid prodest noctes instare diesque
+Pastorum curas spretas humilesque tuendo,
+Nilque relaturam meditari rite Camoenam?
+Nonne fuit satius lusus agitare sub umbra,
+(Ut mos est aliis,) Amaryllida sive Neaeram
+Sectanti, ac tortis digitum impediisse capillis?
+Scilcet ingenuum cor Fama, novissimus error
+Illa animi majoris, uti calcaribus urget
+Spernere delicias ac dedi rebus agendis.
+Quanquam--exoptatam jam spes attingere dotem;
+Jam nec opinata remur splendescere flamma:-
+Caeca sed invisa cum forfice venit Erinnys,
+Quae resecet tenui haerentem subtemine vitam.
+"At Famam non illa," refert, tangitque trementes
+Phoebus Apollo aures.  "Fama haud, vulgaris ad instar
+Floris, amat terrestre solum, fictosque nitores
+Queis inhiat populus, nec cum Rumore patescit.
+Vivere dant illi, dant increbrescere late
+Puri oculi ac vox summa Jovis, cui sola Potestas.
+Fecerit ille semel de facto quoque virorum
+Arbitrium:  tantum famae manet aethera nactis."
+   Fons Arethusa! sacro placidus qui laberis alveo,
+Frontem vocali praetextus arundine, Minci!
+Sensi equidem gravius carmen.  Nunc cetera pastor
+Exsequor.  Adstat enim missus pro rege marino,
+Seque rogasse refert fluctus, ventosque rapaces,
+Quae sors dura nimis tenerum rapuisset agrestem.
+Compellasse refert alarum quicquid ab omni
+Spirat, acerba sonans, scopulo, qui cuspidis instar
+Prominet in pelagus; fama haud pervenerat illuc.
+Haec ultro pater Hippotades responsa ferebat:
+"Nulli sunt,nostro palati carcere venti.
+Straverat aequor aquas, et sub Jove compta sereno
+Lusum exercebat Panope nymphaeque sorores.
+Quam Furiae struxere per interlunia, leto
+Fetam ac fraude ratem,--malos velarat Erinnys, -
+Credas in mala tanta caput mersisse sacratum."
+   Proximus huic tardum senior se Camus agebat;
+Cui setosa chlamys, cui pileus ulva:  figuris
+Idem intertextus dubiis erat, utque cruentos
+Quos perhibent flores, inscriptus margine luctum.
+"Nam quis," ait, "praedulce meum me pignus ademit?"
+   Post hos, qui Galilaea regit per stagna carinas,
+Post hos venit iturus:  habet manus utraque clavim,
+(Queis aperit clauditque) auro ferrove gravatam.
+Mitra tegit crines; quassis quibus, acriter infit:
+"Scilicet optassem pro te dare corpora leto
+Sat multa, o juvenis:  quot serpunt ventribus acti,
+Vi quot iter faciunt spretis in ovilia muris.
+Hic labor, hoc opus est, pecus ut tondente magistro
+Praeripiant epulas, trudatur dignior hospes.
+Capti oculis, non ore! pedum tractare nec ipsi
+Norunt; quotve bonis sunt upilionibus artes.
+Sed quid enim refert, quove eat opus, omnia nactis?
+Fert ubi mens, tenue ac deductum carmen avenam
+Radit stridentem stipulis.  Pastore negato
+Suspicit aegra pecus:  vento gravis ac lue tracta
+Tabescit; mox foeda capit contagia vulgus.
+Quid dicam, stabulis ut clandestinus oberrans
+Expleat ingluviem tristis lupus, indice nullo?
+Illa tamen bimanus custodit machina portam,
+Stricta, paratque malis plagam non amplius unam."
+   En, Alphee, redi!  Quibus ima cohorruit unda
+Voces praeteriere:  redux quoque Sicelis omnes
+Musa voca valles; huc pendentes hyacinthos
+Fac jaciant, teneros huc flores mille colorum.
+O nemorum depressa, sonant ubi crebra susurri
+Umbrarum, et salientis aquae, Zephyrique protervi;
+Queisque virens gremium penetrare Canicula parcit:
+Picturata modis jacite huc mihi lumina miris,
+Mellitos imbres queis per viridantia rura
+Mos haurire, novo quo tellus vere rubescat.
+Huc ranunculus, ipse arbos, pallorque ligustri,
+Quaeque relicta perit, vixdum matura feratur
+Pnimula:  quique ebeno distinctus, caetera flavet
+Flos, et qui specie nomen detrectat eburna.
+Ardenti violae rosa proxima fundat odores;
+Serpyllumque placens, et acerbo flexile vultu
+Verbascum, ac tristem si quid sibi legit amictum.
+Quicquid habes pulcri fundas, amarante:  coronent
+Narcissi lacrymis calices, sternantque feretrum
+Tectus ubi lauro Lycidas jacet:  adsit ut oti
+Saltem aliquid, ficta ludantur imagine mentes.
+Me miserum!  Tua nam litus, pelagusque sonorum
+Ossa ferunt, queiscunque procul jacteris in oris;
+Sive procellosas ultra Symplegadas ingens
+Jam subter mare visis, alit quae monstra profundum;
+Sive (negavit enim precibus te Jupiter udis)
+Cum sene Bellero, veterum qui fabula, dormis,
+Qua custoditi montis praegrandis imago
+Namancum atque arces longe prospectat Iberas.
+Verte retro te, verte deum, mollire precando:
+Et vos infaustum juvenem delphines agatis.
+   Ponite jam lacrymas, sat enim flevistis, agrestes.
+Non periit Lycidas, vestri moeroris origo,
+Marmorei quanquam fluctus hausere cadentem.
+Sic et in aequoreum se condere saepe cubile
+Luciferum videas; nec longum tempus, et effert
+Demissum caput, igne novo vestitus; et, aurum
+Ceu rutilans, in fronte poli splendescit Eoi.
+Sic obiit Lycidas, sic assurrexit in altum;
+Illo, quem peditem mare sustulit, usus amico.
+Nunc campos alios, alia errans stagna secundum,
+Rorantesque lavans integro nectare crines,
+Audit inauditos nobis cantari Hymenaeos,
+Fortunatorum sedes ubi mitis amorem
+Laetitiamque affert.  Hic illum, quotquot Olympum
+Praedulces habitant turbae, venerabilis ordo,
+Circumstant:  aliaeque canunt, interque canendum
+Majestate sua veniunt abeuntque catervae,
+Omnes ex oculis lacrymas arcere paratae.
+Ergo non Lycidam jam lamentantur agrestes.
+Divus eris ripae, puer, hoc ex tempore nobis,
+Grande, nec immerito, veniens in munus; opemque
+Poscent usque tuam, dubiis quot in aestubus errant.
+   Haec incultus aquis puer ilicibusque canebat;
+Processit dum mane silens talaribus albis.
+Multa manu teneris discrimina tentat avenis,
+Dorica non studio modulatus carmina segni:
+Et jam sol abiens colles extenderat omnes,
+Jamque sub Hesperium se praecipitaverat alveum.
+Surrexit tandem, glaucumque retraxit amictum;
+Cras lucos, reor, ille novos, nova pascua quaeret.
+
+
+
+IN MEMORIAM.--CVI.
+
+
+
+The time admits not flowers or leaves
+   To deck the banquet.  Fiercely flies
+   The blast of North and East, and ice
+Makes daggers at the sharpen'd eaves,
+
+And bristles all the brakes and thorns
+   To yon hard crescent, as she hangs
+   Above the wood which grides and clangs
+Its leafless ribs and iron horns
+
+Together, in the drifts that pass,
+   To darken on the rolling brine
+   That breaks the coast.  But fetch the wine,
+Arrange the board and brim the glass;
+
+Bring in great logs and let them lie,
+   To make a solid core of heat;
+   Be cheerful-minded, talk and treat
+Of all things ev'n as he were by:
+
+We keep the day with festal cheer,
+   With books and music.  Surely we
+   Will drink to him whate'er he be,
+And sing the songs he loved to hear.
+
+
+
+IN MEMORIAM.
+
+
+
+Non hora myrto, non violis sinit
+Nitere mensas.  Trux Aquilo foras
+   Bacchatur, ac passim pruina
+      Tigna sagittifera coruscant;
+
+Horretque saltus spinifer, algidae
+Sub falce lunae, dum nemori imminet,
+   Quod stridet illiditque costis
+      Cornua, jam vacuis honorum,
+
+Ferrata; nimbis praetereuntibus,
+Ut incubent tandem implacido sali
+   Qui curvat oras.  Tu Falernum
+      Prome, dapes strue, dic coronent
+
+Crateras:  ignis cor solidum, graves
+Repone truncos.  Jamque doloribus
+   Loquare securus fugatis
+      Quae socio loquereris illo;
+
+Hunc dedicamus laetitiae diem
+Lyraeque musisque.  Illius, illius
+   Da, quicquid audit:  nec silebunt
+      Qui numeri placuere vivo.
+
+
+
+LAURA MATILDA'S DIRGE.
+FROM 'REJECTED ADDRESSES.'
+
+
+
+Balmy Zephyrs, lightly flitting,
+   Shade me with your azure wing;
+On Parnassus' summit sitting,
+   Aid me, Clio, while I sing.
+
+Softly slept the dome of Drury
+   O'er the empyreal crest,
+When Alecto's sister-fury
+   Softly slumb'ring sunk to rest.
+
+Lo! from Lemnos limping lamely,
+   Lags the lowly Lord of Fire,
+Cytherea yielding tamely
+   To the Cyclops dark and dire.
+
+Clouds of amber, dreams of gladness,
+   Dulcet joys and sports of youth,
+Soon must yield to haughty sadness;
+   Mercy holds the veil to Truth.
+
+See Erostratas the second
+   Fires again Diana's fane;
+By the Fates from Orcus beckon'd,
+   Clouds envelop Drury Lane.
+
+Where is Cupid's crimson motion?
+   Billowy ecstasy of woe,
+Bear me straight, meandering ocean,
+   Where the stagnant torrents flow.
+
+Blood in every vein is gushing,
+   Vixen vengeance lulls my heart;
+See, the Gorgon gang is rushing!
+   Never, never let us part.
+
+
+
+NAENIA.
+
+
+
+O quot odoriferi voitatis in aere venti,
+   Caeruleum tegmen vestra sit ala mihi:
+Tuque sedens Parnassus ubi caput erigit ingens,
+   Dextra veni, Clio:  teque docente canam.
+
+Jam suaves somnos Tholus affectare Theatri
+   Coeperat, igniflui trans laqueare poli:
+Alectus consanguineam quo tempore Erinnyn,
+   Suave soporatam, coepit adire quies.
+
+Lustra sed ecce labans claudo pede Lemnia linquit
+   Luridus (at lente lugubriterque) Deus:
+Amisit veteres, amisit inultus, amores;
+   Teter habet Venerem terribilisque Cyclops.
+
+Electri nebulas, potioraque somnia vero;
+   Quotque placent pueris gaudia, quotque joci;
+Omnia tristiae fas concessisse superbae:
+   Admissum Pietas scitque premitque nefas.
+
+Respice!  Nonne vides ut Erostratus alter ad aedem
+   Rursus agat flammas, spreta Diana, tuam?
+Mox, Acheronteis quas Parca eduxit ab antris,
+   Druriacam nubes corripuere domum.
+
+O ubi purpurei motus pueri alitis? o qui
+   Me mihi turbineis surripis, angor, aquis!
+Duc, labyrintheum, duc me, mare, tramite recto
+   Quo rapidi fontes, pigra caterva, ruunt!
+
+Jamque--soporat enim pectus Vindicta Virago;
+   Omnibus a venis sanguinis unda salit;
+Gorgoneique greges praeceps (adverte!) feruntur -
+   Sim, precor, o! semper sim tibi junctus ego.
+
+
+
+"LEAVES HAVE THEIR TIME TO FALL."
+FELICIA HEMANS.
+
+
+
+Leaves have their time to fall,
+   And flowers to wither at the North-wind's breath,
+And stars to set:  but all,
+   Thou hast all seasons for thine own, O Death!
+
+Day is for mortal care,
+   Eve for glad meetings at the joyous hearth,
+Night for the dreams of sleep, the voice of prayer,
+   But all for thee, thou mightiest of the earth!
+
+The banquet has its hour,
+   The feverish hour of mirth and song and wine:
+There comes a day for grief's overwhelming shower,
+   A time for softer tears:  but all are thine.
+
+Youth and the opening rose
+   May look like things too glorious for decay,
+And smile at thee!--but thou art not of those
+   That wait the ripen'd bloom to seize their prey!
+
+
+
+"FRONDES EST UBI DECIDANT."
+
+
+"
+   Frondes est ubi decidant,
+Marcescantque rosae flatu Aquilonio:
+   Horis astra cadunt suis;
+Sed, Mors, cuncta tibi tempera vindicas.
+
+   Curis nata virum dies;
+Vesper colloquiis dulcibus ad focum;
+   Somnis nox magis, et preci:
+Sed nil, Terrigenum maxima, non tibi.
+
+   Festis hora epulis datur,
+(Fervens hora jocis, carminibus, mero;)
+   Fusis altera lacrymis
+Aut fletu tacito:  quaeque tamen tua.
+
+   Virgo, seu rosa pullulans,
+Tantum quippe nitent ut nequeant mori?
+   Rident te?  Neque enim soles
+Praedae parcere, dum flos adoleverit.
+
+
+
+"LET US TURN HITHERWARD OUR BARK."
+R. C. TRENCH.
+
+
+
+"Let us turn hitherward our bark," they cried,
+   "And, 'mid the blisses of this happy isle,
+Past toil forgetting and to come, abide
+   In joyfulness awhile.
+
+And then, refreshed, our tasks resume again,
+   If other tasks we yet are bound unto,
+Combing the hoary tresses of the main
+   With sharp swift keel anew."
+
+O heroes, that had once a nobler aim,
+   O heroes, sprung from many a godlike line,
+What will ye do, unmindful of your fame,
+   And of your race divine?
+
+But they, by these prevailing voices now
+   Lured, evermore draw nearer to the land,
+Nor saw the wrecks of many a goodly prow,
+   That strewed that fatal strand;
+
+Or seeing, feared not--warning taking none
+   From the plain doom of all who went before,
+Whose bones lay bleaching in the wind and sun,
+   And whitened all the shore.
+
+
+
+"QUIN HUC, FREMEBANT."
+
+
+
+"Quin hue," fremebant, "dirigimus ratem:
+Hic, dote laeti divitis insulae,
+   Paullisper haeremus, futuri
+      Nec memores operis, nec acti:
+
+"Curas refecti cras iterabimus,
+Si qua supersunt emeritis novae
+   Pexisse pernices acuta
+      Canitiem pelagi carina."
+
+O rebus olim nobilioribus
+Pares:  origo Di quibus ac Deae
+   Heroes! oblitine famiae
+      Haec struitis, generisque summi?
+
+Atqui propinquant jam magis ac magis,
+Ducti magistra voce, solum:  neque
+   Videre prorarum nefandas
+      Fragmina nobilium per oras;
+
+Vidisse seu non poenitet--ominis
+Incuriosos tot praeeuntium,
+   Quorum ossa sol siccantque venti,
+      Candet adhuc quibus omnis ora.
+
+CARMEN SAECULARE.
+MDCCCLIII.
+
+
+
+"Qucquid agunt homines, nostri est farrago libelli."
+
+   Acris hyems jam venit:  hyems genus omne perosa
+Foemineum, et senibus glacies non aequa rotundis:
+Apparent rari stantes in tramite glauco;
+Radit iter, cogitque nives, sua tela, juventus.
+Trux matrona ruit, multos dominata per annos,
+Digna indigna minans, glomeratque volumina crurum;
+Illa parte senex, amisso forte galero,
+Per plateas bacchatur; eum chorus omnis agrestum
+Ridet anhelantem frustra, et jam jamque tenentem
+Quod petit; illud agunt venti prensumque resorbent.
+Post, ubi compositus tandem votique potitus
+Sedit humi; flet crura tuens nive candida lenta,
+Et vestem laceram, et venturas conjugis iras:
+Itque domum tendens duplices ad sidera palmas,
+Corda miser, desiderio perfixa galeri.
+   At juvenis (sed cruda viro viridisque juventus)
+Quaerit bacciferas, tunica pendente, {145a} tabernas:
+Pervigil ecce Baco furva depromit ab arca
+Splendidius quiddam solito, plenumque saporem
+Laudat, et antiqua jurat de stripe Jamaicae.
+O fumose puer, nimium ne crede Baconi:
+Manillas vocat; hoc praetexit nomine caules.
+   Te vero, cui forte dedit maturior aetas
+Scire potestates herbarum, te quoque quanti
+Circumstent casus, paucis (adverte) docebo.
+Praecipue, seu raptat amor te simplicis herbae, {145b}
+Seu potius tenui Musam meditaris avena,
+Procuratorem fugito, nam ferreus idem est.
+Vita semiboves catulos, redimicula vita
+Candida:  de coelo descendit [Greek text].
+Nube vaporis item conspergere praeter euntes
+Jura vetant, notumque furens quid femina possit:
+Odit enim dulces succos anus, odit odorem;
+Odit Lethaei diffusa volumina fumi.
+   Mille modis reliqui fugiuntque feruntque laborem.
+Hic vir ad Eleos, pedibus talaria gestans,
+Fervidus it latices, nec quidquam acquirit eundo:  {146a}
+Ille petit virides (sed non e gramine) mensas,
+Pollicitus meliora patri, tormentaque {146b} flexus
+Per labyrintheos plus quam mortalia tentat,
+Acre tuens, loculisque pilas immittit et aufert.
+   Sunt alii, quos frigus aquae, tenuisque phaselus
+Captat, et aequali surgentes ordine remi.
+His edura cutis, nec ligno rasile tergum;
+Par saxi sinus:  esca boves cum robore Bassi.
+Tollunt in numerum fera brachia, vique feruntur
+Per fluctus:  sonuere viae clamore secundo:
+Et picea de puppe fremens immane bubulcus
+Invocat exitium cunctis, et verbera rapto
+Stipite defessis onerat graviora caballis.
+   Nil humoris egent alii.  Labor arva vagari,
+Flectere ludus equos, et amantem devia {147a} currum.
+Nosco purpureas vestes, clangentia nosco
+Signa tubae, et caudas inter virgulta caninas.
+Stat venator equus, tactoque ferocior armo
+Surgit in arrectum, vix auditurus habenam;
+Et jam prata fuga superat, jam flumina saltu.
+Aspicias alios ab iniqua sepe rotari
+In caput, ut scrobibus quae sint fastigia quaerant;
+Eque rubis aut amne pigro trahere humida crura,
+Et foedam faciem, defloccatumque galerum.
+   Sanctius his animal, cui quadravisse rotundum {148a}
+Musae suadet amor, Camique ardentis imago,
+Inspicat calamos contracta fronte malignos,
+Perque Mathematicum pelagus, loca turbida, anhelat.
+Circum dirus "Hymers," nec pondus inutile, "Lignum,"
+"Salmoque," et pueris tu detestate, "Colenso,"
+Horribiles visu formae; livente notatae
+Ungue omnes, omnes insignes aure canina. {148b}
+Fervet opus; tacitum pertentant gaudia pectus
+Tutorum; "pulchrumque mori," dixere, "legendo."
+   Nec vero juvenes facere omnes omnia possunt.
+Atque unum memini ipse, deus qui dictus amicis,
+Et multum referens de rixatore {148c} secundo,
+Nocte terens ulnas ac scrinia, solus in alto
+Degebat tripode; arcta viro vilisque supellex;
+Et sic torva tuens, pedibus per mutua nexis,
+Sedit, lacte mero mentem mulcente tenellam.
+Et fors ad summos tandem venisset honores;
+Sed rapidi juvenes, queis gratior usus equorum,
+Subveniunt, siccoque vetant inolescere libro.
+Improbus hos Lector pueros, mentumque virili
+Laevius, et durae gravat inclementia Mortis:  {149a}
+Agmen iners; queis mos aliena vivere quadra, {149b}
+Et lituo vexare viros, calcare caballos.
+Tales mane novo saepe admiramur euntes
+Torquibus in rigidis et pelle Libystidis ursae;
+Admiramur opus {149c} tunicae, vestemque {149d} sororem
+Iridis, et crurum non enarrabile tegmen.
+Hos inter comites implebat pocula sorbis
+Infelix puer, et sese reereabat ad ignem,
+"Evoe, {150a} BASSE," fremens:  dum velox praeterit aetas;
+Venit summa dies; et Junior Optimus exit.
+   Saucius at juvenis nota intra tecta refugit,
+Horrendum ridens, lucemque miserrimus odit:
+Informem famulus laqueum pendentiaque ossa
+Mane videt, refugitque feri meminisse magistri.
+   Di nobis meliora!  Modum re servat in omni
+Qui sapit:  haud ilium semper recubare sub umbra,
+Haud semper madidis juvat impallescere chartis.
+Nos numerus sumus, et libros consumere nati;
+Sed requies sit rebus; amant alterna Camenae.
+Nocte dieque legas, cum tertius advenit annus:
+Tum libros cape; claude fores, et prandia defer.
+Quartus venit:  ini, {150b} rebus jam rite paratis,
+Exultans, et coge gradum conferre magistros.
+   His animadversis, fugies immane Barathrum.
+His, operose puer, si qua fata aspera rumpas,
+Tu rixator eris.  Saltem non crebra revises
+Ad stabulum, {151a} et tota moerens carpere juventa;
+Classe nec amisso nil profectura dolentem
+Tradet ludibriis te plena leporis HIRUDO. {151b}
+
+
+
+TRANSLATIONS FROM HORACE.
+
+
+
+TO A SHIP.
+OD. i. 14.
+
+Yet on fresh billows seaward wilt thou ride,
+O ship?  What dost thou?  Seek a hav'n, and there
+   Rest thee:  for lo! thy side
+      Is oarless all and bare,
+
+And the swift south-west wind hath maimed thy mast,
+And thy yards creak, and, every cable lost,
+   Yield must thy keel at last
+      On pitiless sea-waves tossed
+
+Too rudely.  Goodly canvas is not thine,
+Nor gods, to hear thee now, when need is sorest:-
+   Though thou--a Pontic pine,
+      Child of a stately forest, -
+
+Boastest high name and empty pedigree,
+Pale seamen little trust the gaudy sail:
+   Stay, unless doomed to be
+      The plaything of the gale.
+
+Flee--what of late sore burden was to me,
+Now a sad memory and a bitter pain, -
+   Those shining Cyclads flee
+      That stud the far-off main.
+
+
+TO VIRGIL.
+OD. i. 24.
+
+
+Unshamed, unchecked, for one so dear
+   We sorrow.  Lead the mournful choir,
+   Melpomene, to whom thy sire
+Gave harp, and song-notes liquid-clear!
+
+Sleeps He the sleep that knows no morn?
+   Oh Honour, oh twin-born with Right,
+   Pure Faith, and Truth that loves the light,
+When shall again his like be born?
+
+Many a kind heart for Him makes moan;
+   Thine, Virgil, first.  But ah! in vain
+   Thy love bids heaven restore again
+That which it took not as a loan:
+
+Were sweeter lute than Orpheus given
+   To thee, did trees thy voice obey;
+   The blood revisits not the clay
+Which He, with lifted wand, hath driven
+
+Into his dark assemblage, who
+   Unlocks not fate to mortal's prayer.
+   Hard lot!  Yet light their griefs who BEAR
+The ills which they may not undo.
+
+
+TO THE FOUNTAIN OF BANDUSIA.
+OD. iii. 13.
+
+
+Bandusia, stainless mirror of the sky!
+Thine is the flower-crown'd bowl, for thee shall die,
+   When dawns again yon sun, the kid;
+   Whose budding horns, half-seen, half-hid,
+
+Challenge to dalliance or to strife--in vain!
+Soon must the hope of the wild herd be slain,
+   And those cold springs of thine
+   With blood incarnadine.
+
+Fierce glows the Dog-star, but his fiery beam
+Toucheth not thee:  still grateful thy cool stream
+   To labour-wearied ox,
+   Or wanderer from the flocks:
+
+And henceforth thou shalt be a royal fountain:
+My harp shall tell how from yon cavernous mountain,
+   Topt by the brown oak-tree,
+   Thou breakest babblingly.
+
+
+TO IBYCUS'S WIFE.
+OD. ii. 15.
+
+
+   Spouse of penniless Ibycus,
+Thus late, bring to a close all thy delinquencies,
+   All thy studious infamy:-
+Nearing swiftly the grave--(that not an early one) -
+   Cease girls' sport to participate,
+Blurring stars which were else cloudlessly brilliant.
+   What suits her who is beautiful
+Suits not equally thee:  rightly devastates
+   Thy fair daughter the homes of men,
+Wild as Thyad, who wakes stirred by the kettle-drums.
+   Nothus' beauty constraining her,
+Like some kid at his play, holds she her revelry:
+   Thy years stately Luceria's
+Wools more fitly become--not din of harpsichords,
+   Not pink-petalled roseblossoms,
+Not casks drained by an old lip to the sediment.
+
+
+SORACTE.
+OD. i. 9.
+
+
+One dazzling mass of solid snow
+   Soracte stands; the bent woods fret
+   Beneath their load; and, sharpest-set
+With frost, the streams have ceased to flow.
+
+Pile on great faggots and break up
+   The ice:  let influence more benign
+   Enter with four-years-treasured wine,
+Fetched in the ponderous Sabine cup:
+
+Leave to the Gods all else.  When they
+   Have once bid rest the winds that war
+   Over the passionate seas, no more
+Grey ash and cypress rock and sway.
+
+Ask not what future suns shall bring,
+   Count to-day gain, whate'er it chance
+   To be:  nor, young man, scorn the dance,
+Nor deem sweet Love an idle thing,
+
+Ere Time thy April youth hath changed
+   To sourness.  Park and public walk
+   Attract thee now, and whispered talk
+At twilight meetings pre-arranged;
+
+Hear now the pretty laugh that tells
+   In what dim corner lurks thy love;
+   And snatch a bracelet or a glove
+From wrist or hand that scarce rebels.
+
+
+TO LEUCONOE.
+OD. i. 11.
+
+
+Seek not, for thou shalt not find it, what my end, what thine shall be;
+Ask not of Chaldaea's science what God wills, Leuconoe:
+Better far, what comes, to bear it.  Haply many a wintry blast
+Waits thee still; and this, it may be, Jove ordains to be thy last,
+Which flings now the flagging sea-wave on the obstinate sandstone-reef.
+Be thou wise:  fill up the wine-cup; shortening, since the time is brief,
+Hopes that reach into the future.  While I speak, hath stol'n away
+Jealous Time.  Mistrust To-morrow, catch the blossom of To-day.
+
+
+JUNO'S SPEECH.
+OD. iii. 3.
+
+
+The just man's single-purposed mind
+   Not furious mobs that prompt to ill
+   May move, nor kings' frowns shake his will
+Which is as rock; not warrior-winds
+
+That keep the seas in wild unrest;
+   Nor bolt by Jove's own finger hurled:
+   The fragments of a shivered world
+Would crash round him still self-possest.
+
+Jove's wandering son reached, thus endowed,
+   The fiery bastions of the skies;
+   Thus Pollux; with them Caesar lies
+Beside his nectar, radiant-browed.
+
+For this rewarded, tiger-drawn
+   Rode Bacchus, reining necks before
+   Untamed; for this War's horses bore
+Quirinus up from Acheron,
+
+When in heav'n's conclave Juno said,
+   Thrice welcomed:  "Troy is in the dust;
+   Troy, by a judge accursed, unjust,
+And that strange woman prostrated.
+
+"The day Laomedon ignored
+   His god-pledged word, resigned to me
+   And Pallas ever-pure, was she,
+Her people, and their traitor lord.
+
+"No more the Greek girl's guilty guest
+   Sits splendour-girt:  Priam's perjured sons
+   Find not against the mighty ones
+Of Greece a shield in Hector's breast:
+
+"And, long drawn out by private jars,
+   The war sleeps.  Lo! my wrath is o'er:
+   And him the Trojan vestal bore
+(Sprung of that hated line) to Mars,
+
+"To Mars restore I.  His be rest
+   In halls of light:  by him be drained
+   The nectar-bowl, his place obtained
+In the calm companies of the blest.
+
+"While betwixt Rome and Ilion raves
+   A length of ocean, where they will
+   Rise empires for the exiles still:
+While Paris's and Priam's graves
+
+"Are hoof-trod, and the she-wolf breeds
+   Securely there, unharmed shall stand
+   Rome's lustrous Capitol, her hand
+Impose proud laws on trampled Medes.
+
+"Wide-feared, to far-off climes be borne
+   Her story; where the central main
+   Europe and Libya parts in twain,
+Where full Nile laves a land of corn:
+
+"The buried secret of the mine,
+   (Best left there) resolute to spurn,
+   And not to man's base uses turn
+With hand that spares not things divine.
+
+"Earth's utmost end, where'er it be,
+   May her hosts reach; careering proud
+   O'er lands where watery rain and cloud,
+Or where wild suns hold revelry.
+
+"But, to the soldier-sons of Rome,
+   Tied by this law, such fates are willed;
+   That they seek never to rebuild,
+Too fond, too bold, their grandsires' home.
+
+"With darkest omens, deadliest strife,
+   Shall Troy, raised up again, repeat
+   Her history; I the victor-fleet
+Shall lead, Jove's sister and his wife.
+
+"Thrice let Apollo rear the wall
+   Of brass; and thrice my Greeks shall hew
+   The fabric down; thrice matrons rue
+In chains their sons', their husbands' fall."
+
+Ill my light lyre such notes beseem.
+   Stay, Muse; nor, wayward still, rehearse
+   God-utterances in puny verse
+That may but mar a mighty theme.
+
+
+TO A FAUN.
+OD. iii. 18.
+
+
+Wooer of young Nymphs who fly thee,
+   Lightly o'er my sunlit lawn
+Trip, and go, nor injured by thee
+   Be my weanling herds, O Faun:
+
+If the kid his doomed head bows, and
+   Brims with wine the loving cup,
+When the year is full; and thousand
+   Scents from altars hoar go up.
+
+Each flock in the rich grass gambols
+   When the month comes which is thine;
+And the happy village rambles
+   Fieldward with the idle kine:
+
+Lambs play on, the wolf their neighbour:
+   Wild woods deck thee with their spoil;
+And with glee the sons of labour
+   Stamp thrice on their foe, the soil.
+
+
+TO LYCE.
+OD. iv. 13.
+
+
+Lyce, the gods have listened to my prayer;
+The gods have listened, Lyce.  Thou art grey,
+   And still would'st thou seem fair;
+      Still unshamed drink, and play,
+
+And, wine-flushed, woo slow-answering Love with weak
+Shrill pipings.  With young Chia He doth dwell,
+   Queen of the harp; her cheek
+      Is his sweet citadel:-
+
+He marked the withered oak, and on he flew
+Intolerant; shrank from Lyce grim and wrinkled,
+   Whose teeth are ghastly-blue,
+      Whose temples snow-besprinkled:-
+
+Not purple, not the brightest gem that glows,
+Brings back to her the years which, fleeting fast,
+   Time hath once shut in those
+      Dark annals of the Past.
+
+Oh, where is all thy loveliness? soft hue
+And motions soft?  Oh, what of Her doth rest,
+   Her, who breathed love, who drew
+      My heart out of my breast?
+
+Fair, and far-famed, and subtly sweet, thy face
+Ranked next to Cinara's.  But to Cinara fate
+   Gave but a few years' grace;
+      And lets live, all too late,
+
+Lyce, the rival of the beldam crow:
+That fiery youth may see with scornful brow
+   The torch that long ago
+      Beamed bright, a cinder now.
+
+
+
+TO HIS SLAVE.
+OD. i. 38.
+
+
+Persian grandeur I abhor;
+Linden-wreathed crowns, avaunt:
+Boy, I bid thee not explore
+Woods which latest roses haunt:
+
+Try on nought thy busy craft
+Save plain myrtle; so arrayed
+Thou shalt fetch, I drain, the draught
+Fitliest 'neath the scant vine-shade.
+
+
+THE DEAD OX.
+GEORG. IV.
+
+
+Lo! smoking in the stubborn plough, the ox
+Falls, from his lip foam gushing crimson-stained,
+And sobs his life out.  Sad of face the ploughman
+Moves, disentangling from his comrade's corpse
+The lone survivor:  and its work half-done,
+Abandoned in the furrow stands the plough.
+Not shadiest forest-depths, not softest lawns,
+May move him now:  not river amber-pure,
+That volumes o'er the cragstones to the plain.
+Powerless the broad sides, glazed the rayless eye,
+And low and lower sinks the ponderous neck.
+What thank hath he for all the toil he toiled,
+The heavy-clodded land in man's behoof
+Upturning?  Yet the grape of Italy,
+The stored-up feast hath wrought no harm to him:
+Green leaf and taintless grass are all their fare;
+The clear rill or the travel-freshen'd stream
+Their cup:  nor one care mars their honest sleep.
+
+
+FROM THEOCRITUS.
+IDYLL.  VII.
+
+
+Scarce midway were we yet, nor yet descried
+The stone that hides what once was Brasidas:
+When there drew near a wayfarer from Crete,
+Young Lycidas, the Muses' votary.
+The horned herd was his care:  a glance might tell
+So much:  for every inch a herdsman he.
+Slung o'er his shoulder was a ruddy hide
+Torn from a he-goat, shaggy, tangle-haired,
+That reeked of rennet yet:  a broad belt clasped
+A patched cloak round his breast, and for a staff
+A gnarled wild-olive bough his right hand bore.
+Soon with a quiet smile he spoke--his eye
+Twinkled, and laughter sat upon his lip:
+"And whither ploddest thou thy weary way
+Beneath the noontide sun, Simichides?
+For now the lizard sleeps upon the wall,
+The crested lark hath closed his wandering wing.
+Speed'st thou, a bidd'n guest, to some reveller's board?
+Or townwards, to the treading of the grape?
+For lo! recoiling from thy hurrying feet
+The pavement-stones ring out right merrily."
+
+
+SPEECH OF AJAX.
+SOPH. AJ. 645.
+
+
+All strangest things the multitudinous years
+Bring forth, and shadow from us all we know.
+Falter alike great oath and steeled resolve;
+And none shall say of aught, 'This may not be.'
+Lo! I myself, but yesterday so strong,
+As new-dipt steel am weak and all unsexed
+By yonder woman:  yea I mourn for them,
+Widow and orphan, left amid their foes.
+But I will journey seaward--where the shore
+Lies meadow-fringed--so haply wash away
+My sin, and flee that wrath that weighs me down.
+And, lighting somewhere on an untrodden way,
+I will bury this my lance, this hateful thing,
+Deep in some earth-hole where no eye shall see -
+Night and Hell keep it in the underworld!
+For never to this day, since first I grasped
+The gift that Hector gave, my bitterest foe,
+Have I reaped aught of honour from the Greeks.
+So true that byword in the mouths of men,
+"A foeman's gifts are no gifts, but a curse."
+   Wherefore henceforward shall I know that God
+Is great; and strive to honour Atreus' sons.
+Princes they are, and should be obeyed.  How else?
+Do not all terrible and most puissant things
+Yet bow to loftier majesties?  The Winter,
+Who walks forth scattering snows, gives place anon
+To fruitage-laden Summer; and the orb
+Of weary Night doth in her turn stand by,
+And let shine out, with her white steeds, the Day:
+Stern tempest-blasts at last sing lullaby
+To groaning seas:  even the arch-tyrant, Sleep,
+Doth loose his slaves, not hold them chained for ever.
+And shall not mankind too learn discipline?
+_I_ know, of late experience taught, that him
+Who is my foe I must but hate as one
+Whom I may yet call Friend:  and him who loves me
+Will I but serve and cherish as a man
+Whose love is not abiding.  Few be they
+Who, reaching Friendship's port, have there found rest.
+   But, for these things they shall be well.  Go thou,
+Lady, within, and there pray that the Gods
+May fill unto the full my heart's desire.
+And ye, my mates, do unto me with her
+Like honour:  bid young Teucer, if he come,
+To care for me, but to be YOUR friend still.
+For where my way leads, thither I shall go:
+Do ye my bidding; haply ye may hear,
+Though now is my dark hour, that I have peace.
+
+
+FROM LUCRETIUS.
+BOOK II.
+
+
+Sweet, when the great sea's water is stirred to his depths by the storm-
+winds,
+Standing ashore to descry one afar-off mightily struggling:
+Not that a neighbour's sorrow to you yields blissful enjoyment;
+But that the sight hath a sweetness, of ills ourselves are exempt from.
+Sweet 'tis too to behold, on a broad plain mustering, war-hosts
+Arm them for some great battle, one's self unscathed by the danger:-
+Yet still happier this:- To possess, impregnably guarded,
+Those calm heights of the sages, which have for an origin Wisdom;
+Thence to survey our fellows, observe them this way and that way
+Wander amidst Life's paths, poor stragglers seeking a highway:
+Watch mind battle with mind, and escutcheon rival escutcheon;
+Gaze on that untold strife, which is waged 'neath the sun and the
+starlight,
+Up as they toil to the surface whereon rest Riches and Empire.
+O race born unto trouble!  O minds all lacking of eyesight!
+'Neath what a vital darkness, amidst how terrible dangers,
+Move ye thro' this thing, Life, this fragment!  Fools, that ye hear not
+Nature clamour aloud for the one thing only; that, all pain
+Parted and past from the Body, the Mind too bask in a blissful
+Dream, all fear of the future and all anxiety over!
+   So, as regards Man's Body, a few things only are needful,
+(Few, tho' we sum up all,) to remove all misery from him;
+Aye, and to strew in his path such a lib'ral carpet of pleasures,
+That scarce Nature herself would at times ask happiness ampler.
+Statues of youth and of beauty may not gleam golden around him,
+(Each in his right hand bearing a great lamp lustrously burning,
+Whence to the midnight revel a light may be furnished always);
+Silver may not shine softly, nor gold blaze bright, in his mansion,
+Nor to the noise of the tabret his halls gold-corniced echo
+Yet still he, with his fellow, reposed on the velvety greensward,
+Near to a rippling stream, by a tall tree canopied over,
+Shall, though they lack great riches, enjoy all bodily pleasure.
+Chiefliest then, when above them a fair sky smiles, and the young year
+Flings with a bounteous hand over each green meadow the wild-flowers:-
+Not more quickly depart from his bosom fiery fevers,
+Who beneath crimson hangings and pictures cunningly broidered
+Tosses about, than from him who must lie in beggarly raiment.
+   Therefore, since to the Body avail not Riches, avails not
+Heraldry's utmost boast, nor the pomp and the pride of an Empire;
+Next shall you own, that the Mind needs likewise nothing of these things.
+Unless--when, peradventure, your armies over the champaign
+Spread with a stir and a ferment, and bid War's image awaken,
+Or when with stir and with ferment a fleet sails forth upon Ocean -
+Cowed before these brave sights, pale Superstition abandon
+Straightway your mind as you gaze, Death seem no longer alarming,
+Trouble vacate your bosom, and Peace hold holiday in you.
+   But, if (again) all this be a vain impossible fiction;
+If of a truth men's fears, and the cares which hourly beset them,
+Heed not the jav'lin's fury, regard not clashing of broadswords;
+But all-boldly amongst crowned heads and the rulers of empires
+Stalk, not shrinking abashed from the dazzling glare of the red gold,
+Not from the pomp of the monarch, who walks forth purple-apparelled:
+These things shew that at times we are bankrupt, surely, of Reason;
+When too all Man's life through a great Dark laboureth onward.
+For, as a young boy trembles, and in that mystery, Darkness,
+Sees all terrible things:  so do we too, ev'n in the daylight,
+Ofttimes shudder at that, which is not more really alarming
+Than boys' fears, when they waken, and say some danger is o'er them.
+   So this panic of mind, these clouds which gather around us,
+Fly not the bright sunbeam, nor the ivory shafts of the Day-star:
+Nature, rightly revealed, and the Reason only, dispel them.
+   Now, how moving about do the prime material atoms
+Shape forth this thing and that thing; and, once shaped, how they resolve
+them;
+What power says unto each, This must be; how an inherent
+Elasticity drives them about Space vagrantly onward; -
+I shall unfold:  thou simply give all thyself to my teaching.
+   Matter mingled and massed into indissoluble union
+Does not exist.  For we see how wastes each separate substance;
+So flow piecemeal away, with the length'ning centuries, all things,
+Till from our eye by degrees that old self passes, and is not.
+Still Universal Nature abides unchanged as aforetime.
+Whereof this is the cause.  When the atoms part from a substance,
+That suffers loss; but another is elsewhere gaining an increase:
+So that, as one thing wanes, still a second bursts into blossom,
+Soon, in its turn, to be left.  Thus draws this Universe always
+Gain out of loss; thus live we mortals one on another.
+Bourgeons one generation, and one fades.  Let but a few years
+Pass, and a race has arisen which was not:  as in a racecourse,
+One hands on to another the burning torch of Existence.
+
+
+FROM HOMER.
+Il.  1.
+
+
+Sing, O daughter of heaven, of Peleus' son, of Achilles,
+Him whose terrible wrath brought thousand woes on Achaia.
+Many a stalwart soul did it hurl untimely to Hades,
+Souls of the heroes of old:  and their bones lay strown on the sea-sands,
+Prey to the vulture and dog.  Yet was Zeus fulfilling a purpose;
+Since that far-off day, when in hot strife parted asunder
+Atreus' sceptred son, and the chos'n of heaven, Achilles.
+   Say then, which of the Gods bid arise up battle between them?
+Zeus's and Leto's son.  With the king was kindled his anger:
+Then went sickness abroad, and the people died of the sickness:
+For that of Atreus' son had his priest been lightly entreated,
+Chryses, Apollo's priest.  For he came to the ships of Achaia,
+Bearing a daughter's ransom, a sum not easy to number:
+And in his hand was the emblem of Him, far-darting Apollo,
+High on a sceptre of gold:  and he made his prayer to the Grecians;
+Chiefly to Atreus' sons, twin chieftains, ordering armies
+   "Chiefs sprung of Atreus' loins; and ye, brazen-greaved Achaians!
+So may the Gods this day, the Olympus-palaced, grant you
+Priam's city to raze, and return unscathed to your homesteads:
+Only my own dear daughter I ask; take ransom and yield her,
+Rev'rencing His great name, son of Zeus, far-darting Apollo."
+   Then from the host of Achaians arose tumultuous answer:
+"Due to the priest is his honour; accept rich ransom and yield her."
+But there was war in the spirit of Atreus' son, Agamemnon;
+Disdainful he dismissed him, a right stern fiat appending:-
+   "Woe be to thee, old man, if I find thee lingering longer,
+Yea or returning again, by the hollow ships of Achaians!
+Scarce much then will avail thee the great god's sceptre and emblem.
+Her will I never release.  Old age must first come upon her,
+In my own home, yea in Argos, afar from the land of her fathers,
+Following the loom and attending upon my bed.  But avaunt thee!
+Go, and provoke not me, that thy way may be haply securer."
+   These were the words of the king, and the old man feared and obeyed
+him:
+Voiceless he went by the shore of the great dull-echoing ocean,
+Thither he got him apart, that ancient man; and a long prayer
+Prayed to Apollo his Lord, son of golden-ringleted Leto.
+   "Lord of the silver bow, whose arm girds Chryse and Cilla, -
+Cilla, loved of the Gods,--and in might sways Tenedos, hearken!
+Oh! if, in days gone by, I have built from floor unto cornice,
+Smintheus, a fair shrine for thee; or burned in the flames of the altar
+Fat flesh of bulls and of goats; then do this thing that I ask thee:
+Hurl on the Greeks thy shafts, that thy servant's tears be avenged!"
+   So did he pray, and his prayer reached the ears of Phoebus Apollo.
+Dark was the soul of the god as he moved from the heights of Olympus,
+Shouldering a bow, and a quiver on this side fast and on that side.
+Onward in anger he moved.  And the arrows, stirred by the motion,
+Rattled and rang on his shoulder:  he came, as cometh the midnight.
+Hard by the ships he stayed him, and loosed one shaft from the bow-
+string;
+Harshly the stretched string twanged of the bow all silvery-shining;
+First fell his wrath on the mules, and the swift-footed hound of the
+herdsman;
+Afterward smote he the host.  With a rankling arrow he smote them
+Aye; and the morn and the even were red with the glare of the corpse-
+fires.
+   Nine days over the host sped the shafts of the god:  and the tenth day
+Dawned; and Achilles said, "Be a council called of the people."
+(Such thought came to his mind from the goddess, Hera the white-armed,
+Hera who loved those Greeks, and who saw them dying around her.)
+So when all were collected and ranged in a solemn assembly,
+Straightway rose up amidst them and spake swift-footed Achilles:-
+   "Atreus' son! it were better, I think this day, that we wandered
+Back, re-seeking our homes, (if a warfare MAY be avoided);
+Now when the sword and the plague, these two things, fight with Achaians.
+Come, let us seek out now some priest, some seer amongst us,
+Yea or a dreamer of dreams--for a dream too cometh of God's hand -
+Whence we may learn what hath angered in this wise Phoebus Apollo.
+Whether mayhap he reprove us of prayer or of oxen unoffered;
+Whether, accepting the incense of lambs and of blemishless he-goats,
+Yet it be his high will to remove this misery from us."
+   Down sat the prince:  he had spoken.  And uprose to them in answer
+Kalchas Thestor's son, high chief of the host of the augurs.
+Well he knew what is present, what will be, and what was aforetime;
+He into Ilion's harbour had led those ships of Achaia,
+All by the Power of the Art, which he gained from Phoebus Apollo.
+Thus then, kindliest-hearted, arising spake he before them:
+   "Peleus' son!  Thou demandest, a man heavenfavor'd, an answer
+Touching the Great King's wrath, the afar-off-aiming Apollo:
+Therefore I lift up my voice.  Swear thou to me, duly digesting
+All,--that with right good will, by word and by deed, thou wilt aid me.
+Surely the ire will awaken of one who mightily ruleth
+Over the Argives all:  and upon him wait the Achaians.
+Aye is the battle the king's, when a poor man kindleth his anger:
+For, if but this one day he devour his indignation,
+Still on the morrow abideth a rage, that its end be accomplished,
+Deep in the soul of the king.  So bethink thee, wilt thou deliver."
+   Then unto him making answer arose swift-footed Achilles:
+"Fearing nought, up and open the god's will, all that is told thee:
+For by Apollo's self, heaven's favourite, whom thou, Kalchas,
+Serving aright, to the armies aloud God-oracles op'nest:
+None--while as yet I breathe upon earth, yet walk in the daylight -
+Shall, at the hollow ships, lift hand of oppression against thee,
+None out of all yon host--not and if thou said'st Agamemnon,
+Who now sits in his glory, the topmost flower of the armies."
+   Then did the blameless prophet at last wax valiant and answer:
+"Lo!  He doth not reprove us of prayer or of oxen unoffered;
+But for his servant's sake, the disdained of king Agamemnon,
+(In that he loosed not his daughter, inclined not his ear to a ransom,) -
+Therefore the Far-darter sendeth, and yet shall send on us, evil.
+Nor shall he stay from the slaughter the hand that is heavy upon you,
+Till to her own dear father the bright-eyed maiden is yielded,
+No price asked, no ransom; and ships bear hallowed oxen
+Chryse-wards:- then, it may be, will he shew mercy and hear us."
+   These words said, sat he down.  Then rose in his place and addressed
+them
+Atreus' warrior son, Agamemnon king of the nations,
+Sore grieved.  Fury was working in each dark cell of his bosom,
+And in his eye was a glare as a burning fiery furnace:
+First to the priest he addressed him, his whole mien boding a mischief.
+   "Priest of ill luck!  Never heard I of aught good from thee, but evil.
+Still doth the evil thing unto thee seem sweeter of utt'rance;
+Leaving the thing which is good all unspoke, all unaccomplished.
+Lo! this day to the people thou say'st, God-oracles opening,
+What, but that _I_ am the cause why the god's hand worketh against them,
+For that in sooth I rejected a ransom, aye and a rich one,
+Brought for the girl Briseis.  I did.  For I chose to possess her,
+Rather, at home:  less favour hath Clytemnestra before me,
+Clytemnestra my wife:  unto her Briseis is equal,
+Equal in form and in stature, in mind and in womanly wisdom.
+Still, even thus, am I ready to yield her, so it be better:
+Better is saving alive, I hold, than slaying a nation.
+Meanwhile deck me a guerdon in her stead, lest of Achaians
+I should alone lack honour; an unmeet thing and a shameful.
+See all men, that my guerdon, I wot not whither it goeth."
+   Then unto him made answer the swift-foot chieftain Achilles:
+"O most vaunting of men, most gain-loving, off-spring of Atreus!
+How shall the lords of Achaia bestow fresh guerdon upon thee?
+Surely we know not yet of a treasure piled in abundance:
+That which the sacking of cities hath brought to us, all hath an owner,
+Yea it were all unfit that the host make redistribution.
+Yield thou the maid to the god.  So threefold surely and fourfold
+All we Greeks will requite thee, should that day dawn, when the great
+Gods
+Grant that of yon proud walls not one stone rest on another."
+
+
+
+Footnotes:
+
+
+
+{15a}  "The kites know well the long stern swell
+That bids the Romans close."--MACAULAY.
+
+{51a}  "Poor moralist, and what art thou?
+A solitary fly."
+GRAY.
+
+{145a}  tunica pendente:  h. e.  'suspensa e brachio.'  Quod
+procuratoribus illis valde, ut ferunt, displicebat.  Dicunt vero morem a
+barbaris tractum, urbem Bosporiam in fl. Iside habitantibus.  Bacciferas
+tabernas:  id q.  nostri vocant "tobacco-shops."
+
+{145b}  herbae--avena .  Duo quasi genera artis poeta videtur
+distinguere.   'Weed,' 'pipe,' recte Scaliger.
+
+{146a}  nil acquirit eundo.   Aqua enim aspera, et radentibus parum
+habilis.  Immersum hic aliquem et vix aut ne vix quidem extractum refert
+schol.
+
+{146b}  tormenta p. q. mortalia.  Eleganter, ut solet, Peile, 'unearthly
+cannons.  (Cf. Ainaw. D. s. v.)   Perrecondita autem est quaestio de
+lusibus illorum temporum, neque in Smithii Dict. Class. satis elucidata.
+Consule omnino  Kentf. de Bill.  Loculis, bene vertas, 'pockets.'
+
+{147a}  amantem devio.  Quorsum hoc, quaerunt Interpretes.  Suspicor
+equidem respiciendos, vv. 19-23, de precuratoribus.
+
+{148a}  quadr. rotm.--Cami ard. imo.  Quadrando enim rotundum (Ang.
+'squaring the circle') Camum accendere, juvenes ingenui semper
+nitebantur.  Fecisse vero quemquam non liquet.
+
+{148b}  aure canina.  Iterum audi Peile, 'dog's-eared.'
+
+{148c}  rixatore.  non male Heins. cum Aldina, 'wrangler.'
+
+{149a}  Mortis.  Verbum generali fere sensu dictum inveni.  Suspicor
+autem poetam virum quendam innuisse, qui currus, caballos, id genus
+omne, mercede non minima locaret.
+
+{149b}  aliessa quadra.  Sunt qui de pileis Academicis accipiunt.
+Rapidiores enim suas fere amittebant.  Sed judicet sibi lector.
+
+{149c}  opus tunicae, 'shirt-work.' Alii opes.  Perperam.
+
+{149d}  vestem.  Nota proprietatem verbi.  'Vest,' enim apud politos id.
+q. vulgo 'waistcoat' appellatur.  Quod et feminae usurpahant, ut
+hodiernae, fibula revinctum, teste Virgillo:
+
+   'crines nodantur in aurum,
+Aurea purpuream subnectit fibula vestem.'
+
+{150a}  Basse. cft.  Interpretes illud Horatianum, "Bassum Threica vincat
+amystide."  Non perspexere viri docti alterum hic alludi, Anglicanae
+originis, neque illum, ut perhibent, a potu aversum.
+
+{150b}  Ini.  Sic nostri, 'Go in and win.'  rebus, 'subjects.'
+
+{151a}  crebra r. a. stabulum.  "Turn up year after year at the old
+diggings, (i. e. the Senate House,) and be plucked," &c.  Peile.  Quo
+quid jejunius?
+
+{151b}  Classe--Hirudo.  Obscurior allusio ad picturam quandam (in
+collectione viri, vel plusquam viri, Punchii repositam,) in qua juvenis
+custodem stationis moerens alloquitur.
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg eText Verses and Translations
+
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