Instead of Sappho's verses, rings with thine.
All the sweet pastoral poets, who of late
Carried such happy looks, are sad for thee,-
Sicelidas the Samian, Lycidas

With his sweet lip, and frank Theocritus,
All in their several dialects: and I,

I too, no stranger to the pastoral song,
Sing thee a dirge Ausonian, such as thou
Taughtest thy scholars, honouring us as all
Heirs of the Dorian Muse. Thou didst bequeath
Thy store to others, but to me thy song.

Raise, raise the dirge, Muses of Sicily.
Alas, when mallows in the garden die,
Green parsley, or the crisp luxuriant dill,
They live again, and flower another year;
But we, how great soe'er, or strong, or wise,
When once we die, sleep in the senseless earth
A long, an endless, unawakeable sleep.
Thou too in earth must be laid silently:

But the nymphs please to let the frog sing on;
Nor envy I, for what he sings is worthless.

120

Raise, raise the dirge, Muses of Sicily.
There came, O Bion, poison to thy mouth,
Thou did'st feel poison; how could it approach
Those lips of thine, and not be turned to sweet!
Who could be so delightless as to mix it,

Or bid be mixed, and turn him from thy song!

Raise, raise the dirge, Muses of Sicily.
But justice reaches all;—and thus, meanwhile,
I weep thy fate. And would I could descend
Like Orpheus to the shades, or like Ulysses,
Or Hercules before him; I would go

To Pluto's house, and see if you sang there,
And hark to what you sang. Play to Proserpina
Something Sicilian, some delightful pastoral,
For she once played on the Sicilian shores,
The shores of Etna, and sung Dorian songs.

And so thou wouldst be honoured; and as Orpheus,

For his sweet harping, had his love again,

She would restore thee to our mountains, Bion.

Oh, had I but the power, I, I would do it.

130

140

SEA AND LAND

MOSCHUS

[First published in The Examiner, January 21, 1816; reprinted 1818. Text 1818.] WHEN a smooth wind runs on the far green sea,

This coward thought of mine feels pleasantly,

And lost to poetry itself, can lie

Wrapt in a wistful quietness of eye.

But when the deeps are moved, and the waves come
Shuddering along, and tumbling into foam,

I turn to earth, which trusty seems, and staid,

And love to get into a green wood shade;

In which the pines, although the winds be strong,
Can turn the bluster to a sylvan song.

A wretched life a fisherman's must be,

His home a ship, his labour in the sea,

And fish, the slippery object of his gain :—

I love a sleep under a leafy plane,

And a low fountain coiling in mine ear,

Which fills the soul with smiling, not with fear.

ΤΟ

1 When... on] When gentle winds ripple 1816. 5 the deeps are moved] its roar is up 1816. 6 Shuddering along.] Curling their tops 1816. 7 earth] land 1816. 9 winds] wind 1816.

12 home] house 1816.

14 a leafy] the leafy 1816.

LOVE AT THE PLOUGH; OR, JUPITER REMINDED OF EUROPA

IMITATED FROM MOSCHUS

[First published in The Companion, May 7, 1828. Not reprinted.]

LOVE laid aside his torch, his quiver, and his bow,

And like a roguish herdsman, a ploughing he would go.

He took a pair of bulls, so patient and so strong,

And as he went, he looked to heaven, and sung this merry song :

Now mind me, Jove, a harvest,—a good harvest, or by Jove,

I'll make the bull come plough for me, that ploughed the seas for love.

FROM THE GREEK ANTHOLOGY

ON A PEN

[First published in The New Monthly Magazine, October 1836; not reprinted.]

A REED was I:-my thin and fruitless shape
No fig put forth, no apple, not a grape :

When, lo! one took me, polished me, gave lips
Of slender point, and made me take small sips
Of some strange, black, and Heliconian wine;
Since when, as though I were a thing divine,
Drink puts all speech in this dumb mouth of mine.

GREEK PRETENDERS TO PHILOSOPHY DESCRIBED

[First printed in the notes to Bacchus in Tuscany, 1825, where the compound words are printed without hyphens. Reprinted 1844-60. Text 1844.] (The original is in similar compound words.) [H.]

ON THE TOMB OF TWO BROTHERS

[First published in The New Monthly Magazine, October 1836. Not reprinted.] PAULUS and Latöus, brothers, Thought no lot like one another's: Common was the life they led, Common is their last, low bed: For they could not rest apart,

ΤΟ

They must needs together start
For the race which all must run.
O, sweet pair! with hearts in one,
In a tomb like yours we dress
An altar to one-mindedness.

MELEAGER

THE TRIPLE LOVER

[First published in The Tatler, November 17, 1830, unsigned. Not reprinted.] THREE are the Graces, three the Hours,' and three

The charming girls who mystify poor me.

Cupid must take me for a man of parts,

To strike me thus, as though I had three hearts.

ΤΟ

The Hours originally among the Greeks were the divisions of the year into three seasons,--Spring, Summer, and Winter. (H.)

A PARAPHRASE

[First published in the Correspondence (1862), under date Florence, 27th May, 1824.]

A FLOWERY crown will I compose,

I'll weave the crocus, weave the rose;

I'll weave narcissus, newly wet,

The hyacinth and violet;

And myrtle shall supply me green,

And lilies laugh in light between:

That the rich tendrils of my beauty's hair

May burst into their crowning flowers, and light the painted air.

CUPID SWALLOWED!

A PARAPHRASE

[First published in The New Monthly Magazine, October 1836. Reprinted 1844-60. No variants.]

T'OTHER day as I was twining
Roses, for a crown to dine in,

What, of all things, 'midst the heap
Should I light on, fast asleep,
But the little desperate elf,
The tiny traitor, Love himself!
By the wings I pinched him up
Like a bee, and in a cup

Of my wine I plunged and sank him, And what d'ye think I did ?—I drank him.

10

'Faith, I thought him dead. Not he!
There he lives with tenfold glee;
And now this moment with his wings
I feel him tickling my heart-strings.

ON A CULTIVATOR OF THE GROUND

[First published in The Monthly Repository, November 1837. Not reprinted.]
TAKE to thy lap, dear earth, the good old boy,
Who did thy tasks with such a loving joy;
Training thee now an olive, heaping thee
With rustling beauteous bread, and viny glee;
And guiding to thy roots his furrowy showers,
Making thee now all fruit, and now all flowers.
Wherefore lie lightly on his temples grey,

And let the turf that wraps him, flower in May.

IMITATED FROM THE GREEK

AN EPITAPH TO LET

[First published in The Monthly Repository, December 1837. Not reprinted.] My name was-(Well-what signifies ?)-my nation(Well, what of that?)-my birth and education(Were good or bad; of course no matter which) My life (Well, sink all that-was poor or richWho cares?)—I died, agèd-(Oh, drop that stuff) And here I lie—(Ay, ay—that's sure enough.)

INSCRIPTION ON A STATUE OF EPICTETUS

[First published in The Monthly Repository, November 1837, unsigned. Not reprinted.]

A SLAVE was I, a shape uneven,

A pauper, and the friend of heaven.

Another

A SLAVE was I, with soul and shape at odds,

Poor, and beloved of the immortal gods.

DEATH AND GOODNESS

[First published in The Monthly Repository, November 1837, unsigned. Not re

printed.]

Sleeping the sacred sleep, here Saon lies;

For never be it said, the good man dies.

FROM THE LATIN

LUCRETIUS

TO VENUS

[First published in The Liberal, No. III, 1823. Not reprinted.]

PARENT of Rome, delicious Queen of Love,
Thou joy of men below and gods above;

Who in one round of ever-blest increase

Roll'st the green regions and the dancing seas;
From whom all beings catch the race they run,

And leap to life, and visit the dear sun;

Thee, Goddess, thee, the winds, the winters fly,

Thee, and the coming of thy suavity:

For thee the earth lays forth its flowers for thee

A lustre laughs along the golden sea,

ΤΟ

And lightsome heav'n looks round on all, for thou hast made it free.

For soon as Spring, thrown open, re-appears,

And forth, with kisses, come the genial airs,

The birds, first smitten to their hearts, announce
Thee, Goddess, and thy balmy benisons :
The herds, made wild again, in pastures bound,
And track the rivers till their mates be found;

And every living thing, drawn with delight,

Follows with greedy will the charming of thy might,

Through seas, o'er mountains, through the fields, the floods,

And the green houses of the birds, the woods;

All snatch into their hearts the generous wound,

That still the ages may roll on, and nature's place be found.

CATULLUS

CATULLUS'S RETURN HOME TO THE PENINSULA OF SIRMIO

CARMEN XXXI

20

[First published in The Examiner, August 21, 1808, and again September 20, 1812. Reprinted 1812 (Poetical Register for 1808-9: text of 1808), 1814-60. Text 1815.]

O BEST of all the scattered spots that lie
In sea or lake,-apple of landscape's eye,—
How gladly do I drop within thy nest,
With what a sigh of full, contented rest,

I spots that lie] lands, that break 1808.

2 From spreading sea or hill retiring lake 1808. 3 gladly... nest,] happy . . . breast! 1808.