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FOUNDED ON AN ARABIAN AVECDOTE.
AWAY! though still thy sword is red
With life-blood from my sire, No drop of thine may now be shed
To quench my bosom's fire ; Though on my heart 'twould fall more blest, Than dews upon the desert's breast. I've sought thee 'midst the sons of men,
Through the wide city's fanes ; I've sought thee by the lion's den,
O'er pathless, boundless plains ; No step that mark'd the burning waste, But mine its lonely course hath traced. Thy name hath been a baleful spell,
O'er my dark spirit cast ; No thought may dream, no words may tell
What there unseen hath pass'd: This wither'd cheek, this faded eye, Are seals of thee-behold! and Ay! Hath
not my cup for thee been pour'd
Beneath the palm-tree's shade ? Hath not soft sleep thy frame restored
Within my dwelling laid ?
Inviolate and pure!
-Man may not thus endure !
Begone! outstrip the swist gazelle !
The wind in speed subdue !
As vengeance shall pursue ;
To-morrow—and th' avenger's hand,
The warrior's dart is free!
Save this, had shelter'd thee,
Its whirlwinds sleep to-day!
TRANSLATED FROM THE GERMAN OF TIECK.
What dost thou here, brave Swiss ?
Can the stranger's yield the bliss ?
What welcome cheers thee now?
Or the peasant's fearless brow?
And the summits, clothed with day!
Back, noble child of Tell!
Against thine own to swell!
TRANSLATIONS FROM HORACE.
BOOK Ist, ODE 30th.
“O Venus, Regina Cnidi Paphique," &c. Oh ! leave thine own loved isle, Bright Queen of Cyprus and the Paphian shores !
And here in Glycera's fair temple smile,
Waft here thy glowing son;
rround, And youth unlovely till thy gifts be won, And the light Graces with the zone unbound.
TO HIS ATTENDANT.
BOOK 1st, ode 38th.
“ Persicos odi, puer, apparatus," &c. I HATE the Persian's costly prideThe wreaths with bands of linden tied
These, boy, delight me not ;,
Seek thou for me the spot.
Alike thy brows and mine;
Beneath th' o'erarching vine.
BOOK 2d, ODE 3d.
When adverse fortune clouds the sky ;
Undazzled by the triumph's hour,
Since, Delius, thou must die!
Or if, through festal days, 'tis thine
The old Falernian wine :
Haunts where the silvery poplar boughs
Love with the pine's to blend on high,
In graceful windings by.
So soon to fade, so brilliant now,
For thou, resigning to thine heir
Thy halls, thy bowers, thy treasured store,
On yellow Tiber's shore.
What then avails it if thou trace
From Inachus thy glorious line ?
If not a roof be thine ?
Since the dread lot for all must leap
Forth from the dark revolving urn,
Whence exiles ne'er return.
TO THE FOUNTAIN OF BANDUSIA.
BOOK 3d, ODE 13th.
“ Oh! Fons Bandusiæ, splendidior vitro," &c. OH! worthy fragrant gifts of flowers and wine,
Bandusian fount, than christal far more bright! To-morrow shall a sportive kid be thine,
Whose forehead swells with horns of infant might: Ev'n now of love and war he dreams in vain, Doom'd with his blood thy gelid wave to stain. Let the red dog-star burn !his scorching beam,
Fierce in resplendence shall molest not thee! Still shelter'd from his rays, thy banks, fair stream,
To the wild flock around thee wandering free,
And the tired oxen from the furrow'd field
Shalt by thy poet's votive song be made;
Whose boughs, a pendant canopy, o'ershade
BOOK 3d, ODE 18th.
“ Faune, Nympharum fugentium amator," &c. FAUNUS, who lov'st the flying nymphs to chase O let thy steps with genial
influence cread My sunny fields, and be thy fostering grace,
Soft on my nursling groves and borders, shed.
A tender kid in sacrifice be thine;
Nor clouds of incense to thine antique shrine.
When the December seast returns to thee;
With festal villages from toil set free.
Then shower the woods to thee their foliage round;
In triple dance have struck the hated ground.
THE CROSS OF THE SOUTH.
The beautifnl constellation of the Cross is seen only in the southern hemisphere. The following lines are supposed to be addressed to it by a Spanish traveller in South America.]
In the silence and grandeur of midnight I tread,