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“Regions Cæsar never knew

Thy posterity shall sway; Where his eagles never flew:

None invincible as they.”

Such the bard's prophetic words,

Pregnant with celestial fire, Bending as he swept the chords

Of his sweet but awful lyre.

She, with all a monarch's pride,

Felt them in her bosom glow; Rushed to battle, fought and died;

Dying hurled them at the foe.

“Ruffians, pitiless as proud,

Heaven awards the vengeance due ; Empire is on us bestowed,

Shame and ruin wait for you.”

COWPER.

“Quas ipse nescit Cæsar, aheneus Quas ales oras non adiit, tuos, Regina, fas torquere natos,

Indocilem numerum repulsæ."

Hæc elocutus cælitus edito
Scatebat igni fatidicus senex :
Dum, pronus in chordas, sonantem
"Dulce lyram modulatur iræ.

Queis illa sentit non humilis calens
Regina dictis : queis-ruerat nova
In arma-bellatrix sub ipsum

Funus adhuc premit acris hostes :

“At, durior grex omnibus, omnium Contemptor! æqui di quoque vindices Regnare nos optant: probrosa

Vos perimi placitum ruina."

COME LIVE WITH ME.

COME, live with me, and be my love,
And we will all the pleasures prove,
That valleys, groves, or hills, or field,
Or woods and steepy mountains yield.

And we will sit upon the rocks,
Seeing the shepherds feed their flocks
By shallow rivers, to whose falls
Melodious birds sing madrigals.

And I will make thee beds of roses :
And a thousand fragrant posies :
A gown made of the finest wool,
Which from our pretty lambs we'll pull.

The shepherd swains shall dance and sing
For thy delight each May morning:
If these delights thy mind may move,
Then live with me and be my love.

MARLOW,

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MOPSUS. Mopsi vive sodalis, ames age, Lydia,

amantem ! Ruris uti cunctas experiamur opes : Quot vallis, juga, saltus, ager, quot amana ministret

Mons gravis ascensu, quot vel amena nemus.

Sæpius acclines saxo spectare juvarit

Ducat uti pastum Thyrsis herile pecus; Sub vada rivorum, queis adsilientibus infra

Concordes avibus suave loquantur aves.

Ipse rosas, queis fulta cubes caput, ipse recentum

Quidquid alant florum pascua mille, feram: Pro læna tibi vellus erit, neque tenuior usquam,

Me socio teneras quo spoliaris oves.

Cantabunt salientque tibi pastoria pubes,

Maia novum quoties jusserit ire diem: Quæ si forte tibi sint oblectamina cordi, Vive comes Mopsi, Lydia, amantis amans.

If all the world and love were young;
And truth in every shepherd's tongue,
These pretty pleasures might me move
To live with thee and be thy love.

Time drives the flocks from field to fold,
When rivers rage and rocks grow cold;
And Philomel becometh dumb,
The rest complain of cares to come.

But could youth last and love still breed,
Had joys no date nor age no need,
Then these delights my mind might move
To live with thee and be thy love.

RALEIGH.

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