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revenge, is not indeed difficult. But indolence, as a river wandering in listless stream, yet subverts from the foundation all virtues. It were better that a vice, which is more ardent, should hold sway over us than this rust of the mind, which infects the whole life with its taint. It would be scarcely less dangerous to suffer shipwreck amid the storms, than thus deserted by the winds ever to linger at anchor. Nor will it have availed anything to have within the seeds of a thousand virtues, if energy and firmness be wanting, whence they may be exercised. By death indeed all are brought to a level; but this image of death, this torpor of the mind, brings it about, that between the highest mental endowments and the least talent there is absolutely no difference. The faculty of doing praiseworthy things, if it be concealed, profits nothing more him, in whom it exists, than heaps of gold the miser, which he dare not enjoy.

THE BIRD AND THE SHIP.

III.

The rivers rush into the sea,

By castle and town they go;
The winds behind them merrily
Their noisy trumpets blow.

The clouds are passing far and high,
We little birds in them play;
And every thing that can sing and fly
Goes with us, and far away.

I greet thee, bonny boat! Whither, or whence,
With thy fluttering golden band?

I greet thee, little bird! To the wide sea
I haste from the narrow land.

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And wilt thou, little bird, go with us?

Thou mayest stand on the mainmast tall,

For full to sinking is my house

With merry companions all.

III.

Longfellow.

Into ELEGIACS.

The rivers in headlong stream run down to the sea, and by towers, by towns, they pass. Behind the fitful murmurs of the whispering wind resound, not otherwise sound the hoarse trumpets of Mars. The clouds aloft sweep hurriedly over the sky, we birds, a little tribe, sport among the mists. And to whomsoever a voice be given, to whom (there be) given a fleeter wing, hence afar, hence associated with us he goes. boat, whither now, or whence are you returning, as the broad band invites the kindly south winds? Hail, thou little bird, from the edge of the narrow land I am borne; I seek the briny seas. Both their bosoms are filled, and the swelling sails stretch; no longer the topmost heights are open to my eyes. Lo! hence I am carried away, to the hoarse gales a stranger

Hail to me, O

entrusted to them; under these guides there can be no stay to my rapid flight. O bird! may there be to thee the will to depart hence with us; on the top of the mast there remains a safe seat. In truth, my house is all but sinking on the surface of the wave, so many comrades, a joyous band, fill my bark.

IV.

I need not and seek not company;
Bonny boat, I can sing all alone:
For the mainmast tall too heavy am I;
Bonny boat, I have wings of my own.

High over the sails, high over the mast,
Who shall gainsay these joys?

When the merry companions are still, at last
Thou shall hear the sound of my voice.

Who neither may rest, nor listen may,
God bless them every one!

I dart away, in the bright blue day,
And the golden fields of the sun.

Thus do I sing my weary song,
Wherever the four winds blow;

And this same song, my whole life long,
Neither poet nor printer may know.

Longfellow.

IV.

Into ELEGIACS.

My mind seeks not, or longs for those companions; pretty bark, it is enough if I sing alone to myself. I should hang too great a weight from the top of the mast; pretty bark, wings are given me by lot. Over the sails of the ship, over the high peaks of the mast, who would deny that I, hurried away, have joys. When at last your joyous companions are silent beneath the shades, yet my voice shall still give its accustomed sounds. To them no rest is given, nor to hear the whispers ; but I would that the Gods would bring to each their best blessings. Lo! I through the bright temples of the azure day am borne, and among the golden fields of light. I pour from my throat an uninterrupted strain, from whatever quarter the blasts of the winds sound. But of my poured forth strain, as long as life remains to me, not poet or written paper shall know the melody.

V.

Muses! your sweetest warblings wake

For golden Aphrodite's sake:

She o'er the Gods soft love can shed,

She mortal man controls;

And birds and beast her influence dread,

And ocean's scaly shoals.

At thy bidding bow they down,
Goddess of the radiant crown!

Three only of the heavenly band

Can thy persuasive wiles withstand.

Anstice.—Translation from Hom. Hymn to Venus.

√.

Into ALCAICS.

Ye, O melodious Pieridis, extol with joyous praises the Cyprian Goddess; both Gods and mortal bands she alone rules with supreme sway. The savage wild beasts amid the woods dread your influence; beneath the heaven the winged race, beneath the waves of ocean the fishes, roving tribe, have felt what you could do. Thus all things confess thy power, and obey the laws of your grateful empire; Thee, conspicuous for glittering crown, they reverence as a kindly mistress. But there are who refuse to endure the yoke of love; among the sacred Choir there are three Goddesses, who know neither the wiles nor the shafts of the wanton one.

VI.

And then his eyes grew very dim, and his throat began to swell,

And in a hoarse, changed voice he spake, "Farewell, sweet child! Farewell!

Oh how I loved my darling! Though stern I sometimes be, To thee, thou know'st, I was not so. Who could be so to

thee?

And how my darling loved me! How glad she was to hear My footsteps on the threshold when I came back last year! And how she danced with pleasure to see my civic crown; And took my sword, and hung it up, and brought me forth my gown!

Now all these things are over-yes, all thy pretty ways,

Thy needlework, thy prattle, thy snatches of old lays;
And none will grieve when I go forth, or smile when I return,
Or watch beside the old man's bed, or weep upon his urn.

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