ALP-HORN SONG. TRANSLATED FROM THE GERMAN OF TIECK. WHAT dost thou here, brave Swiss? What welcome cheers thee now? Dar'st thou lift thine eye to gaze around? But thy spirit is far away! Where a greeting waits thee in kindred eyes, And the sparkling blue of the glacier-sea, Back, noble child of Tell! Back to the wild and the silent glen, And the frugal board of peasant-men! Dost thou seek the friend, the loved one, here?— Away! not a true Swiss heart is near, Against thine own to swell! TRANSLATIONS FROM HORACE. TO VENUS. BOOK 1ST, 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, Where vows and incense lavishly she pours. Waft here thy glowing son; Bring Hermes; let the Nymphs thy path surround, TO HIS ATTENDANT. BOOK 1ST, ODE 38TH. "Persicos odi, puer, apparatus," &c. I HATE the Persian's costly pride- Nor where the lingering roses bide, For me be nought but myrtle twined- Alike thy brows and mine; While thus I quaff the bowl, reclined 46 TO DELIUS. BOOK 2D, ODE 3D. Equam memento rebus in arduis," &c. FIRM be thy soul! serene in power, Alike, if still to grief resign'd, Or if, through festal days, 'tis thine Haunts where the silvery poplar-boughs There be the rose with beauty fraught, For thou, resigning to thine heir Thy halls, thy bowers, thy treasured store, Must leave that home, those woodlands fair, On yellow Tiber's shore. What then avails it if thou trace Since the dread lot for all must leap TO THE FOUNTAIN OF BANDUSIA. "Oh! Fons Bandusiæ, splendidior vitro," &c. OH! worthy fragrant gifts of flowers and wine, Bandusian fount, than crystal 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, And thou, bright fount! ennobled and renown'd TO FAUNUS. BOOK 3D, ODE 18TH. "Faune, Nympharum fugentium amator," &c. FAUNUS, who lov'st the flying nymphs to chase, If, at the mellow closing of the year, Joyous each flock in meadow herbage plays, With festal villagers from toil set free. Then from the wolf no more the lambs retreat, |