To love's soft power he raised the votive strain, Alas! the frailest flower that decks the fields, But man, the great, the brave, the strong, the wise, Ah, to thy mouth the murderous poison came, Unerring vengeance shall the deed o'ertake. Even I, had I the power like thee to sing, Would seek the Stygian realms, and tempt the dreadful king. TRAVESTIE OF THE SAME. Ye woods, and brush, and sticks, and stubble, And brooks along the mead that bubble, Ye weeds, and grass, and pinks, and roses, And spread about a dismal scent; 'Tis meet your fiddler's loss to rue, For death at last has brought him to. CHORUS. Sicilian muses, split your throats, With grunts, and groans, and doleful notes, Stymonian swans, both one and all, Since death has laid his clutches on him, No more for beasts the lout shall play, Bion, 'tis wondrous droll to hear And pouts, and pines, and scowls, and frets, Her endless clack must now be still. No musick now for honey passes, Though yours was reckoned mere molasses. Who now will touch your dirty pipe, Sure one must be a tasteless fool, To smear his lips with such a tool; Even now it scents us half to death, With your old quids and wheezing breath.* Quite satisfied with former proof. If Pan can stomach, let him have it, No god or mortal else will crave it. Poor Galatea's quite outrageous, Since now your tunes no more engage us: Who would have thought when you departed, Even Meles' horse-pond boils and blubbers, He sung And none but brutes would stay to hear him. 'Tis strange that every weed that grows, He'll have good luck to get it out. Even thou, old Clodpole, on thy back, Has ceas'd thy everlasting clack. *-and wheezing breath.-The original is xat to rov notμa. O Bior, brandy did it all! That lurch for grog produc'd thy fall! Or what vile wretch, his grog shop hid in, But law shall catch the rascal soon- Nay, even I'd lend a hand, if able, And lug the base, while you squeal treble. THE BOSTON REVIEW, FOR JUNE, 1811. Librum tuum legi, et quam diligentissime potui annotavi quae commutanda, quae eximenda arbitrarer. Nam ego dicere verum assuevi. Neque ulli patientius reprehenduntur, quam qui maxime laudari merentur. Plin. ARTICLE 28. Review of Griesbach's New Testament. (Concluded from page 114) We sincerely regret, that a passage in our review of Gries bach's Greek Testament was so expressed, as to convey a sense, to the minds of many of our readers, different from our real meaning. For if it be understood, as it has been interpreted by the writer in the Panoplist for the last month, it fixes upon us the reproach either of great ignorance, or great baseness. No man, who has so much as dipped his feet in sacred criticism, can be rash enough to place the common reading of the three texts in Acts, Timothy, and John's 1 Epistle on a level in point of authority; and yet, from the words of the following passage in our review, we may be thought to have done this. "It has always struck us with astonishment, that many of those who maintain the most rigid notions of inspiration, and exclaim most vehemently against the glosses, evasions, and forced interpretations of hereticks, should have discovered so little solicitude to ascertain the true text even of the New Testament, and have felt no more dread, than they seem to have done, of adding to the word of God. To what is it to be attributed that even at the present day, 1 John v. 7. is quoted in proof of the doctrine of the Trinity, and even taken as a text of discourses; when it ought to be known, that it has not more authority in its favour than the famous reading of the seventh |