151

152

153

ON ORPHEUS

ΟΥΚΕΤΙ θελγομένας, Ορφευ, δρύας, οὐκέτι πέτρας ἄξεις, οὐ θηρῶν αὐτονόμους ἀγέλας·

οὐκέτι κοιμάσεις ἀνέμων βρόμον, οὐχὶ χάλαζαν,

οὐ νιφετῶν συρμούς, οὐ παταγεῦσαν ἅλα. ὤλεο γάρ· σὲ δὲ πολλὰ κατωδέραντο θύγατρες Μναμοσύνας, μάτηρ δ' ἔξοχα Καλλιόπα. τί φθιμένοις στοναχοῦμεν ἐφ' υἱάσιν, ἀνίκ ̓ ἀλαλκεῖν τῶν παίδων ̓Αΐδην οὐδὲ θεοῖς δύναμις.

ANTIPATER SIDONIVS

THE DEATH OF NIOBE'S CHILDREN

ΤΑΝΤΑΛΙ παῖ, Νιόβα, κλύ ̓ ἐμὰν φάτιν, ἄγγελον ἄτας
δέξαι σῶν ἀχέων οἰκτροτάταν λαλιάν

λε κόμας ανάδεσμον, ιώ, βαρυπενθέσι Φοίβου
γειναμένα τόξοις ἀρσενόπαιδα γόνον·

οὔ σοι παῖδες ἔτ ̓ εἰσίν· ἄταρ τί τόδ ̓ ἄλλο; τί λεύσσω;
αἴ, αἴ, πλημμυρεῖ παρθενικαῖσι φόνος·

ἃ μὲν γὰρ ματρὸς περὶ γούνασιν, ἃ δ ̓ ἐνὶ κόλποις
κέκλιται, ἃ δ ̓ ἐπὶ γᾶς, ὁ δ ̓ ἐπιμαστίδιος:
ἄλλα δ ̓ ἀντωπὸν θαμβεῖ βέλος· ὁ δ ̓ ἐπ ̓ ὀϊστοῖς
πτώσσει· τᾶς δ ̓ ἔπνουν ὄμμ ̓ ἔτι φῶς ὁράᾳ·
ὁ δὲ λαλὸν στέρξασα πάλαι στόμα, νῦν ὑπὸ θάμβευς
μάτηρ σαρκοπαγὴς οἷα πέπηγε λίθος.

HYMN TO HEALTH

ΥΓΙΕΙΑ, πρεσβίστα μακάρων,

μετὰ σοῦ ναίοιμι

τὸ λειπόμενον βιοτᾶς·

σὺ δέ μοι πρόφρων σύνοικος εἴης· εἰ γάρ τις ἢ πλούτου χάρις ἢ τεκέων, ἢ τὰς ἰσοδαίμονος ἀνθρώποις

βασιληΐδος ἀρχᾶς, ἢ πόθων

MELEAGER

οὓς κρυφίοις Αφροδιτᾶς ἄρκυσιν θηρεύομεν,
ἢ εἴ τις ἄλλα θεόθεν ἀνθρώποισι τέρψις
ἢ πόνων αμπνόα πέφανται,
μετὰ σεῖο, μάκαιρ' Υγίεια,

τέθαλε πάντα καὶ λάμπει Χαρίτων ἔαρι,
σέθεν δὲ χωρὶς οὔτις εὐδαίμων ἔφυ.

ARIPHRON

154

155

156

A SONG

Do not wanton with those eyes,
lest I be sick of seeing;

nor cast them down but let them rise,
lest shame destroy their being.

O be not angry with those fires,
for then their threats will kill me;
nor look too kind on my desires,

for then my hopes will spill me.

O do not steep them in my tears,
for so will sorrow slay me;
nor spread them as distract with fears:
mine own enough betray me.

IN FLAGELLA PARATVS

IX me on some bleake precipice,

B. JONSON

FIX me on some bleake may stand:

made now a statue of ice,

then by the sommer scorcht and tan'd!

Place me alone in some fraile boate

'mid th' horrours of an angry sea:

where I, while time shall move, may floate, despairing either land or day:

or under earth my youth confine

to the night and silence of a cell:
where scorpions may my limbes entwine,
O God! so thou forgive me hell.

W. HABINGTON

SYMPATHY IN DEJECTION

ND wilt thou weep, when I am low?

Asweet lady speak those words again:

yet if they grieve thee, say not so—
I would not give that bosom pain.

My heart is sad, my hopes are gone,
my blood runs coldly through my breast;
and when I perish, thou alone

wilt sigh above my place of rest.

157

158

And yet, methinks, a gleam of peace
doth through my cloud of anguish shine;
and for awhile my sorrows cease,

to know thy heart hath felt for mine.

PITY

THE BEGGAR'S PETITION

LORD BYRON

the sorrows of a poor old man,

whose trembling limbs have borne him to your
door;

whose days are dwindled to the shortest span:
O give relief, and Heaven will bless your store.

These tattered clothes my poverty bespeak;
these hoary locks proclaim my lengthened years;
and many a furrow in my grief-worn cheek

has been the channel to a flood of tears.

A little farm was my paternal lot;

then like the lark I sprightly hailed the morn;
but ah! oppression forced me from my cot;
my cattle died and blighted was my corn.

OF

THE DAWN OF FREEDOM

F old sat Freedom on the heights, the thunders breaking at her feet: above her shook the starry lights:

she heard the torrents meet.

There in her place she did rejoice,
self-gathered in her prophet-mind,
but fragments of her mighty voice
came rolling on the wind.

Then stept she down thro' town and field
to mingle with the human race,
and part by part to men revealed
the fullness of her face-

159 Grave mother of majestic works
from her isle-altar gazing down,
who, God-like, grasps the triple forks,
and, King-like, wears the crown:

T. MOSS

160

161

Her open eyes desire the truth.
The wisdom of a thousand years
is in them. May perpetual youth

keep dry their light from tears;

that her fair form may stand and shine,
make bright our days and light our dreams,
turning to scorn with lips divine

the falsehood of extremes!

A. TENNYSON

Now

THE MERMAID'S SONG

OW the dancing sunbeams play on the green and glassy sea; come, and I will lead the way where the pearly treasures be! come with me and we will go where the rocks of coral grow! Come! behold what treasures lie far beneath the rolling waves; riches hid from human eye dimly shine in Ocean's caves! Ebbing tides bear no delay; stormy winds are far away.

ANON.

THE

THE BANYAN TREE

HEY tell us of an Indian tree, which, howsoe'er the sun and sky may tempt its boughs to wander free and shoot and blossom wide and high, far better loves to bend its arms

downwards again to that dear earth, from which the life, that fills and warms its grateful being, first had birth. 'Tis thus, though wooed by flattering friends and fed with fame (if fame it be), this heart, my own dear mother, bends with love's true instinct back to thee!

T. MOORE

162

163

EPITAPH ON A ROBIN-REDBREAST

Then piping winds are hushed around,

READ lightly here, for here, 'tis said,

a small note wakes from underground
where now his tiny bones are laid.

No more in lone and leafless groves
with ruffled wing and faded breast
his friendless, homeless spirit roves;
-gone to the world where birds are blest!
Where never cat glides o'er the green,
or schoolboy's giant form is seen:
but Love and Joy and smiling Spring
inspire their little souls to sing!

ΟΝ

THE DYING SWAN

S. ROGERS

N glassy stream, by greenwood bower,
his voice was rarely heard:

why sings he thus in dying hour,
yon fair majestic bird?

There's many a pleasant sight on earth,

although they last not long;

nor marvel I that thoughts of mirth
should issue forth in song.

Nay! sorrow's self, while hope remains,
beneath the twilight dim

may chant her own half-soothing strains,
a dirge-entangled hymn.

164

FASCINATION

J. E. BODE

REPARED to rail, resolved to part,

PREPA

when I approach the perjured maid,

what is it awes my timorous heart?

why is my tongue afraid?

With the least glance a little kind,

such wondrous power have Myra's charms,
she calms my doubts, enslaves my mind,
and all my rage disarms.