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ADRIAN'S ADDRESS TO HIS SOUL, TRANSLATION FROM CATULLUS.
LUCTUS DR MORTE PASSERIS.
YB Capids, droop each little head,
Nor let your wings with joy be spread ;
My Lesbia's favourite bird is dead,
Whom dearer than her eyes she loved ;
For he was gentle, and so true, Ar! gentle, fleeting, wavering Sprite,
Obedient to her call he flew, Friend and associate of this clay!
No fear, no wild alarm he knew, To what unknown region borne,
But lightly o'er her bosom moved : Wilt thou now wing thy distant flight? And softly fluttering here and there, No more, with wonted humour gay,
He never sought to cleave the air; But pallid, cheerless, and forlora.
But chirrup'd oft, and free from care,
Tuned to her ear his grateful strain. Now having pass'd the gloomy bourn,
From whence he never can return, TRANSLATION FROM CATULLUS. His death, and Lesbia's grief, I mourn,
Who sighs, alas! but sighs in vain.
Oh! curst be thon, devouring grave!
Whose jaws eternal victims crave,
From whom no earthly power can save, Greater than Jove, he seems to me,
For thou hast ta’en the bird away: Who, free from Jealousy's alarms, From thee, my Lesbia's eyes o’erflow. Securely views thy matchless charms ;
Her swollen cheeks with weeping glow, That cheek, which ever dimpling glows,
Thou art the cause of all her woe,
IMITATED FROM CATULLUS.
TO BLLEN. Whilst trembling with a thousand fears, Parch'd to the throat, my tongue adheres, On! might I kiss those eyes of fire, My pulse beats quick, my breath heaves A million scarce would quench desire ;
Still, would I steep my lips in bliss, My limbs deny their slight support;
And dwell an age on every kiss; Cold dews my pallid face o'erspread, Nor then my soul should sated be, With deadly languor droops my head,
Still would I kiss and cling to thee: My ears with tingling echoes' ring, Nought should my kiss from thine dissever, And life itself is on the wing;
Still would we kiss, and kiss for ever; My eyes refuse the cheering light, E'en though the number did exceed Their orbs are veild in starless night;
The yellow harvest's countless seed; Such pangs my nature sinks beneath, To part would be a vain endeavour, And feels a temporary death.
Could I desist?—ah! never-never,
TRANSLATION OF THE EPITAPH ON
VIRGIL AND TIBULLUS.
TRANSLATION FROM ANACREON.
TO HIS LYRB.
BY DOMITIUS MARSUS.
He who, sublime, in Epic numbers rollid, I wish to tune my quivering lyre,
And he who struck the softer lyre of love, To deeds of fame, and notes of fire; By Death's unequal hand alike controll’d, To echo from its rising swell, Fit comrades in Elysian regions move. How heroes fought, and nations fell ;
When Atreus' sons ad venced to war,
Or Tyrian Cadmus roved afar;
He cried, “if this its strength has lost;
The strings their former aid refuse."
Deep in my tortured heart it lies:
Then loud the joyous urchin laugh’d, To war, to war my harp is due;
“My bow can still impel the shaft, With glowing strings the epic strain 'Tis firmly fix'd, thy sighs reveal it; To Jove's great son I raise again; Say, courteous host, canst thou not feel it " Alcides and his glorious deeds, Beneath whose arm the Hydra bleeds; All, all in vain, my wayward lyre FRAGMENTS OF SCHOOL EXERCISES. Wakes silver-notes of soft desire. Adieu ! ye chiefs renown'd in arms!
FROM THE PROMETHEUS VINCTUS OP ÆSCRILUS. Adieu ! the clang of war's alarms. To other deeds my soul is strung,
Great Jove! to whose Almighty throne
Both Guds and mortals homage pay, And sweeter notes shall now be sung; My harp shall all its powers reveal,
Ne'er may my soul thy power disown, To tell the tale my heart must el;
Thy dread behests ne'er disobey.
Oft shall the sacred victim fall Love, love alone, my lyre shall claim,
In sea-girt Ocean's mossy hall;
My voice shall raise no impious strain
How different now thy joyless fate,
Since first Hesione thy bride,
The blushing beauty by thy side,
Thou sat'st, while reverend Ocean smiled, His Arctic charge around the Pole; While mortals, lost in gentle sleep,
And mirthful strains the hours beguiled; Forgot to smile, or ceased to weep;
The Nymphs and Tritons danced around, At this lone hour the Paphian boy,
Nor yet thy doom was fix'd, nor Jove re
lentless frown'd. Descending from the realms of joy,
Harrow, Dec. 1, 1804. Quick to my gate directs his course, And knocks with all his little force; My visions fled, alarmid I rose; "What stranger breaks my blest repose ?"
THE EPISODE OF NISUS AND “Alas!” replies the wily child,
EURYALUS. In faultering accents, sweetly mild;
A PARAPHRASE FROM THE ENEID, LIB. 9. “A hapless infant here I roam, Far from my dear maternal home; Nisus, the guardian of the portal, stood, Oh! shield me from the wintery blast, Eager to gild his arms with hostile blood; The mighty storm is pouring fast; Well skili'd in fight, the quivering lanco No prowling robber lingers here ;
to wield, A wandering baby, who can fear ?" Or pour his arrows through th' embattled I heard his seeming artless tale,
field; I heard his sighs upon the gale;
From Ida torn, he left his sylvan cave, My breast was never pity's foe,
And sought a foreign home, a distant grave; But felt for all the baby's woe;
To watch the movements of the Daunian I drew the bar, and by the light,
host, Young Love, the infant, met my sight; With him, Euryalus sustains the post : His bow across his shoulders flung, No lovelier mien adorn'd the ranks of Troy, And thence his fatal quiver hung. And beardless bloom yet graced the gallant (Ah! little did I think the dart
boy; Would rankle soon within my heart;) Though few the seasons of his youthful life, With care I tend my weary guest,
As yet a novice in the martial strife, His little fingers chill my breast; 'Twas his, with beauty valour's gift to share, His glossy curls, his azure wing,
A soul heroic, as his form was fair; Which droop with nightly showers, I wring; These burn with one pure flame of generous His shivering limbs the embers warm,
love, And now, reviving from the storm, In peace, in war, united still they move; Scarce had he felt his wonted glow, Friendship and glory form their joint reward, Than swift he seized his slender bow: And now combined they hold the nightly “I fain would know, my gentle host,"
“What God!" exclaim'd the first, "instils, Or wealth redeem from foes my captive corse:
Or, if my destiny these last deny, Or, in itself a God, what great desire? If in the spoiler's power my ashes lie, My labouring soul, with anxious thought Thy pious care may raise a simple tomb,
To mark thy love, and signalize iny doom. Abhors this station of inglorious rest : Why should thy doating wretched mother The love of fame with this can ill accord,
weep Be't mine to seek for glory with my sword. Her only boy, reclined in endless sleep? Seest thou yon camp, with torches twink- Who, for thy sake, the tempest's fury dared,
Who,for thy sake, war's deadly peril shared; Where drunken slumbers wrap each lazy Who braved what woman never braved limb ?
before, Where confidence and ease the watch disdain, And left her native for the Latian shore.” And drowsy Silence holds her sable reign? "In vain you damp the ardour of my soul,” Then hear my thought :-In deep and sullen Replied Euryalus, “it scorns control;
Hence, let us haste," - their brotherOur troops and leaders mourn their absent
guards arose, chief;
Roused by their call, nor court again repose; Now could the gifts and promised prize be The pair,buoy'd up on Hope's exulting wing,
Their stations leave, and speed to seek the (The deed, the danger,and the fame be mine);
king. Wcre this decreed; — beneath yon rising Now, o'er the earth a solemn stillness ran,
And lull'd alike the cares of brute and man; Methinks,an easy path perchance were found, Save where the Dardan leaders nightly hold Which past, I speed my way to Pallas' walls, Alternate converse, and their plans unfold; And lead Æneas from Evander's halls." On one great point the council are agreed, With equal ardour fired, and warlike joy, An instant message to their prince decreed His glowing friend address'd the Dardan boy: Each lean’d upon the lance he well could “These deeds, my Nisus, shalt thou dare
And poised, with easy arm, his ancient shield; Must all the fame, the peril be thine own? When Nisus and his friend their leave request And I by thee despised, and left afar, To offer something to their high behest. As one unfit to share the toils of war? With anxious tremors, yet unawed by fear, Not thus his son the great Opheltes taught, The faithful pair before the throne appear; Not thus my sire in Argive combats fought; Iulus greets them; at his kind command, Not thus, when Ilion fell, by heavenly hate, The elder first address’d the hoary band. I track'd Æneas through the walls of fate; 'Thou knowst my deeds, my breast devoid
“With patience," thus Hyrtacides began, And hostile life-drops dim my gory spear; “Attend, nor judge from youth, our humble Here is a soul with hope immortal burns
plan; And life, ignoble life, for Glory spurns; Where yonder beacons, half-expiring, beam, Fame, fame is cheaply earn'd by fleeting Our slumbering foes of future conquest breath,
dream, The price of honour is the sleep of death.” Nor heed that we a secret path have traced, Then Nisus_“Calm thy bosom’s fond alarms, Between the ocean and the portal placed : Thy heart beats fiercely to the din of arms; Beneath the covert of the blackening smoke, More dearthy worth and valour than my own, Whose shade securely our design will cloak. I swear by him who fills Olympus' throne! If you, ye Chiefs, and Fortune will allow, So may I triumph, as I speak the truth, We'll bend our course to yonder mounAnd clasp again the comrade of my youth
tain's brow; But should I fall, and he who dares advance Where Pallas' walls, at distance, meet the Through hostile legions must abide by
sight, chance ;
Seen o'er the glade, when not obscured by If some Rutulian arm, with adverse blow,
night; Should lay the friend who ever loved thee Then shall Æneas in his pride return,
While hostile matrons raise their offsprings' Live thou, such beauties I would fain pre
And Latian spoils, and purpled heaps of dead, Thy badding years a lengthened term Shall mark the havoc of our hero's tread;
Such is our purpose, not unknown the way, When humbled in the dust, let some one be, Where yonder torrent's devious waters stray: Whose gentle eyes will shed one tear for me; Oft have we seen , when hunting by the Whose manly arm may snatch me back by
The distant spires above the valleys gleam."
Mature in years, for sober wisdom famed, Without thy aid no glory shall be mine, Moved by the speech, Alethes here exclaim'd: Without thy dear advice no great design; “Ye parent Gods! who rule the fate of Troy, Alike, through life esteem'd, thou god-like Still dwells the Dardan spirit in the boy ;
boy, When minds like these in striplings thus In war my bulwark, and in peace my joy Yours is the god-like act, be yours the praise; In gallant youth my fainting hopes revive, To him Euryalus: “No day shall shame And Ilion's wonted glories still survive.” The rising glories, which from this I claim. Then, in his warm embrace, the boys he Fortune may favour or the skies may frown,
But valour, spite of fate, obtains renown. And, quivering, strain'd them to his aged Yet, ere from hence our eager steps depart,
One boon I beg, the nearest to my heart: With tears the burning cheek of each be- My inother sprung from Priam's royal line,
Like thine ennobled, hardly less divine; And, sobbing, thus his first discourse re- Nor Troy, nor King Acestes realms restrain
Her feeble age from dangers of the main ; “What gift, my countrymen, what martial Alone she came, all selfish fears above,
A bright example of maternal love. Can we bestow, which you may not despise ? Unknown, the secret enterprize I brave, Our deities the first, best boon have given, Lest grief should bend my parent to the Internal virtues are the gift of Heaven.
grave: What poor rewards can bless your deeds From this alone no fond adieus I seek,
No fainting mother's lips have press’d my Doubtless, await such young exalted worth;
cheek; Æneas and Ascanius shall combine By gloomy Night, and thy right hand, I vow To yield applause far, far surpassing mine." Her parting-tears would shake my purpose Iulus then: “By all the powers above! By those Penates who my country love; Do thou, my prince, her failing age sustain, By hoary Vesta's sacred fane, I swear, In thee her much-loved child may live again; My hopes are all in you, ye generous pair! Her dying hours with pious conduct bless, Restore my father to my grateful sight, Assist her wants, relieve her fond distress : And all my sorrows yield to one delight. So dear a hope must all my soul inflame, Nisus! two silver goblets are thine own, To rise in glory, or to fall in fame." Saved from Arisba’s stately domes o'er- Struck with a filial care, so deeply felt,
In tears at once the Irojan warriors melt; My sire secured them on that fatal day, Faster than all, lulus' eyes o’erflow; Nor left such bowls an Argive robber's prey. Such love was his,and such had been his woe. Two massy tripods also shall be thine, “All thou hast ask'd, receive," the Prince Two talents polish'd from the glittering
replied, mine ;
Nor this alone, but many a gift beside; An ancient cup which Tyrian Dido gave, To cheer thy mother's years shall be my aim, While yet our vessels press’d the Punic Creusa's style but wanting to the dame ;
Fortune an adverse wayward course may run, But, when the hostile chiefs at length But bless'd thy mother in so dear a son.
bow down, Now, by my life, my Sire's most sacred oath, When great Æneas wears Hesperia's crown, To thee I pledge my full, my firmest troth, The casque, the buckler, and the fiery steed, All the rewards which once to thee were Which Turnus guides with more than
vow'd, mortal speed,
If thou shouldst fall, on her shall be Are (hine; no envious lot shall then be cast,
bestow'd." I pledge my word, irrevocably pass'd ; Thus spoke the weeping Prince, then forth Nay more, twelve slaves and twice six
to view captive dames, A gleaming falchion from the sheath he To soothe thy softer hours with amorous
Lycaon's utmost skill had graced the steel, And all the realms which now the Latins For friends to envy and for foes to feel.
A tawny hide, the Moorish lion's spoil, The labours of to-night shall well repay. Slain midst the forest, in the hunter's toil, But thou, my generous youth, whose tender Mnestheus.to guard the elder youth bestows,
And old Alethes’ casque defends his brows; Are near my own, whose worth my heart Arm’d, thence they go, while all the asreveres,
sembled train, Henceforth, affection sweetly thus begun, To aid their cause, implore the gods in rain; Shall join our bosoms and our souls in one; More than a boy, in wisdom and in grace,
lulus holds amidst the chiefs his place; Nor legs the other's deadly vengeance His prayers he sends, but what can prayers
Bnt falls on feeble crowds without a name; Lost in the murmurs of the sighing gale? His wound unconscious Fadus scarce can feel,
Yet wakeful Rhæsus sees the threatening
steel ; The trench past, and, favour'd by the His coward breast behind a jar he hides,
And, vainly, in the weak defence confides; Through sleeping foes they wheel their Full in his heart the falchion search'd wary flight.
his veins, When shall the sleep of many a foe be o'er? The reeking weapon bears alternate stains; Alas! some slumber whu shall wake no more! Thro’ wine and blood, commingling as Chariots, and bridles, mix'd with arms,
they flow, are seen, And flowing flasks, and scatter'd troops Now, where Messapus dwelt they bend
The feeble spirit seeks the shades below.
between; Bacchus and Mars to rule the camp combine, Whose fires emit a faint and trembling ray; A mingled chaos this of war and wine.
There unconfined behold each grazing steed, “Now," cries the first, “for deeds of blood Unwatch’d, unheeded, on the herbage feed;
Brave Nisus here arrests his comrade's arm, With me the conquest and the labour share; Too flush'd with carnage, and with conHere lies our path; lest any hand arise,
quest warm : Watch thou, while many a dreaming chief- "Hence let us haste, the dangerous path
tain dies; I'll carve our passage through the heedless Full foes enough, to-night, have breathed foe,
their last ; And clear thy road, with many a deadly Soon will the day those eastern clouds blow."
adorn, His whispering accents then the youth Now let us speed, nor tempt the rising morn."
represt, And pierced proud Rhamnes through his
What silver arms with various arts Stretch'd at his ease, th' incautious king
What bowls and mantles, in confusion toss'd, Debauch,and not fatigue,his eyes had closed; They leave regardless! yet, one glittering To Turnus dear, a prophet and a prince,
prize His omens more than augur's skill evince, Attracts the younger hero's wandering eyes; But he, who thus foretold the fate of all, The gilded harness Rhamnes' coursers felt, Could not avert his own untimely fall. Next Remus' armour-bearer, hapless, fell,
The gems which stud the monarch's golden
belt; And three unhappy slaves the carnage swell: This from the pallid corse was quickly torn, The charioteer along his courser's sides
Once by a line of former chieftains worn. Expires, the steel his sever'd neck divides; Th’ exulting boy the studded girdle wears, And, last, his Lord is number'd with the dead, Messapus' helm his head, in triumph, bears ; Bounding convulsive, flies the gasping head; Then from the tents their cautious steps From the swollen veins the blackening
they bend, torrents pour,
To seek the vale, where safer paths extend. Stain'd is the couch and earth with clotting
gore. Young Lamyrus and Lamus next expire,
Just at this hour a band of Latian horse And gay Serranus, fill'd with youthful fire; To Turnus' camp pursue their destined Half the long night in childish games was
While the slow foot their tardy march delay, Lull’d by the potent grape, he slept at last; The knights, impatient, spur along the way : Ah! happier far, had he the morn survey'd, Three hundred mail-clad men, by Volscens And, till Aurora's dawn, his skill display'd.
To Turnus with their master's promise sped: In slaughter'd folds, the keepers lost in Now, they approach the trench, and view sleep,
the walls, His hungry fangs a Lion thus may steep; When, on the left, a light reflection falls; 'Mid the sad flock,at dead of night, he prowls, The plunder'd helmet through the waning With murder glutted, and in carnage rolls;
night Insatiate still, through teeming herds he Sheds forth a silver radiance,glancing bright;
Volscens, with question loud, the pair In seas of gore the lordly tyrant foams.