The frozen earth, and clothe in fresh attire The lily and rose, that neither sowed nor spun. What neat repast shall feast us, light and choice, Of Attic taste, with wine, whence we may rise He who of those delights can judge, and spare IO TO CYRIAC SKINNER. CYRIAC! whose grandsire on the royal bench Toward solid good what leads the nearest way; 10 TO THE SAME. CYRIAC! this three years' day these eyes, though clear, Right onward. What supports me, dost thou ask? The conscience, Friend, to have lost them overplied In Liberty's defence, my noble task, Of which all Europe talks from side to side. ΙΟ This thought might lead me through the world's vain mask Content though blind, had I no better guide. ON HIS DECEASED WIFE. METHOUGHT I saw my late espoused saint Brought to me, like Alcestis, from the grave, And such, as yet once more I trust to have So clear, as in no face with more delight. But, oh! as to embrace me she inclined, I waked; she fled; and day brought back my night. IO Quis multo gracilis te puer in rosa, rendered almost word for word, without rhyme, according to the Latin measure, as near as the language will permit. WHAT slender youth, bedewed with liquid odours, Courts thee on roses in some pleasant cave, Pyrrha? for whom bind'st thou In wreaths thy golden hair, Plain in thy neatness? O how oft shall he Who now enjoys thee credulous, all gold; Who always vacant, always amiable Hopes thee, of flattering gales Unmindful. Hapless they To whom thou untried seem'st fair! Me, in my vowed Picture, the sacred wall declares to have hung My dark and dropping weeds To the stern God of sea. ΙΟ FROM GEOFFREY OF MONMOUTH. BRUTUS thus addresses DIANA in the country of Leogecia. GODDESS of shades, and huntress! who at will On thy third reign, the earth, look now, and tell For aye, with temples vowed and virgin quires. To whom, sleeping before the altar, DIANA answers in a vision the same night: Brutus! far to the west, in the ocean wide, FROM DANTE. AH, Constantine! of how much ill was cause, FROM ARIOSTO. THEN passed he to a flowery mountain green, FROM HORACE. WHOM do we count a good man? Whom but he FROM EURIPIDES. THIS is true liberty, when freeborn men, FROM HORACE. LAUGHING, to teach the truth, What hinders? As some teachers give to boys FROM HORACE. JOKING decides great things, Stronger and better oft than earnest can. 'TIS FROM SOPHOCLES. you that say it, not I. You do the deeds, And your ungodly deeds find me the words. FROM SENECA. There can be slain No sacrifice to God more acceptable, Than an unjust and wicked king. |