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Oh, what would they be to my tale of two Thieves?
The One, yet unbreeched, is not three birthdays
old, His G-randsire that age more than thirty times
told; There are ninety good seasons of fair and foul
Between them, and both go a-pilf ering together.
With chips is the carpenter strewing his floor? Is a cart-load of turf at an old woman's door? Old Daniel his hand to the treasure will slide! And his Grandson's as busy at work by his side. 20
Old Daniel begins; he stops short—and his eye, Through the lost look of dotage, is cunning and
sly: 'Tis a look which at this time is hardly his own, But tells a plain tale of the days that are flown.
He once had a heart which was moved by the wires 25
Of manifold pleasures and many desires:
And what if he cherished his purse? 'Twas no more
Than treading a path trod by thousands before.
'Twas a path trod by thousands; but Daniel is
one Who went something farther than others have
And now with old Daniel you see how it fares; You see to what end he has brought his grey
The pair sally forth hand in hand: ere the
sun Has peered o'er the beeches, their work is
begun: And yet, into whatever sin they may fall, 35 This child but half knows it, and that not at
They hunt through the streets with deliberate
tread, And each, in his turn, becomes leader or led; And, wherever they carry their plots and their
Every face in the village is dimpled with smiles.
Neither checked by the rich nor the needy they
roam; For the grey-headed Sire has a daughter at
home, Who will gladly repair all the damage that's
done; And three, were it asked, would be rendered
Old Man! whom so oft I with pity have eyed, 45 I love thee, and love the sweet Boy at thy
side: Long yet may'st thou live! for a teacher we
see That lifts up the veil of our nature in thee.
ANIMAL TRANQUILLITY AND DECAY.
The little hedgerow birds, That peck along the road, regard him not. He travels on, and in his face, his step, His gait, is one expression: every limb, His look and bending figure, all bespeak A man who does not move with pain, but moves With thought.—He is insensibly subdued To settled quiet: he is one by whom All effort seems forgotten; one to whom Long patience hath such mild composure given, That patience now doth seem a thing of which He hath no need. He is by nature led To peace so perfect that the young behold With envy, what the Old Man hardly feels.
EPITAPHS AND ELEGIAC PIECES.
TRANSLATED FROM CHIABRERA.
Weep not, beloved Friends! nor let the air
Together move in fellowship without end.—
Perhaps some needful service of the State Drew Titus from the depth of studious bowers, And doomed him to contend in faithless courts, Where gold determines between right and wrong. Yet did at length his loyalty of heart, 5
And his pure native genius, lead him back
To wait upon the bright and gracious Muses, Whom he had early loved. And not in vain Such course he held! Bologna's learned schools Were gladdened by the Sage's voice, and hung 10 With fondness on those sweet Nestorian strains. There pleasure crowned his days; and all his
thoughts A roseate fragrance breathed.1—0 human life, That never art secure from dolorous change! Behold a high injunction suddenly 15
To Arno's side hath brought him, and he
charmed A Tuscan audience; but full soon was called To the perpetual silence of the grave. Mourn, Italy, the loss of him who stood A Champion stedfast and invincible, 20
To quell the rage of literary War!
0 Thou who movest onward with a mind
To sacred studies; and the Roman Shepherd
1 Ivi vivea giocondo e i suoi pensieri
Erano tutti rose.
The Translator had not skill to come nearer to his original.