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FROM EURIPIDES' HIPPOLYTUS,

v. 729-748 (ed. Monk.)

STROPHE.

I would I dwelt in lofty caves,

To view the distant waves ;
Or on eagle pinions dight
To chase the sunbeams dancing bright,
Lightly flitting o'er the foam
Of Adria’s conflicting waters,
Or where Eridanus' three daughters,

In love of Phaëthon,
Distil into their father's purple wave
The amber light of tears, an offering to his grave.

ANTISTROPHE.

Would I could fly to Afric's shore,

Where orchards, as of yore,
Yearly a golden produce bring,
And Hesperus' fair daughters sing ;
Where the purple river's lord
The sailor's onward course restrains,
Dwelling near Atlas' ancient reigns ;

And round Jove's awful throne,
A thousand rivulets of nectar shine,
And Gods rejoice for aye in golden fields divine.

H. F. C.

THE EPITAPH OF GRISOSTOMO,

Don Quixote, part I. ch. 14, ad fin.

δυστήνου ψυχρόν σώμ' ενθάδε κείται εραστού,

βουκόλος ήν, δυσερώς νιν θανάτωσε πόθος: καλλίστης έδάμασσε κόρης νιν θυμός ατειρής, , εξ ης ωμός άναξ μείζον' Έρως κατέχει.

H. F. C. THE LEGEND OF RYDE.

We have received the following poem from a foreign correspondent, and we cannot do better than quote his own words as an introduction to it :

“ About 100 years ago, where the flourishing town of Ryde now stands, there was a small village inhabited chiefly by fishermen, situated on a low muddy coast; since that time the character of the shore has entirely altered, and a layer of fine sand has made its appearance. The enclosed legend then endeavours to account for this change."

The evening breeze is blowing chill,

And a heavy rain is falling,
And the petrel amid the surging waves

To his mate is shrilly calling.
Drearily sets in the darksome night;
No stars are seen, and the moon's pale light
Is hid by the masses of driving cloud,
As they veil the sky with a murky shroud.
The storm is rising, the waves run high,
And the wind in gusts right mournfully
O'er the waters sweeps from the troubled sky.
On the crests of the wild waves dancing

A ship is dimly seen,
Its toilsome way advancing

Through the foaming billows sheen,
And gleams of light are glancing

Bright where its path has been.
On, on-no rest—for tempest-tost,
Their canvass rent, their reckoning lost,
The mariners know not the danger nigh,
'Till the man at the helm with eager eye
Perceives a long low line of shore,
No rocks-no breakers—the sullen roar
Of the waves, as the muddy coast they lash,
Is heard for a moment- she strikes,-one crash!--
'Tis done!--down the roaring wind rings a cry,
As of mortals who feel the last death-agony.

'Tis hushed—and onward the billows roll,
With their hollow booming they seem to toll
A solemn knell for many a soul,
And the sea-birds shriek and wheel around,
As they bear ʼmidst the tempest the fearful sound.
The first pale blush of morning gleams

On the subsiding waves,
And the tempest’s angry brow with beams

Of sunny brightness laves.
No sound is heard in the gentle air,
No trace is left in the scene so fair,
Where the stormy breath of the tempest has passed.
The tiny waves are flowing in fast,
And joyously smiling beneath the sun's light.
Look! what may that spot be that glances so bright,
'Midst the slime and the weed on the muddy coast ?
'Tis where the good ship in the tempest was lost,
Where she sank with her crew to rise no more;
And now, ʼmidst the waves on the echoing shore,
A bright sunny fountain of sand is up-springing, —
On, onward it flows ;-hark! what music is ringing
On the wind, as the sand-spring is spreading around,
'Tis the song of the sea-nymphs, that silvery sound,
As they joyfully welcome their new dancing ground.

And still each night,
When the moon's calm light

On the rippling waves is glancing,
On the soft white sand
There is seen a band

Of fairies merrily dancing.
Their song floats o'er the sleeping sea,
And when on the breeze their sweet melody
The wandering mariner's slumber stirs,
He turns in his cot as the sound he hears,
And dreams, while he sails 'neath the heavens so blue,
Of the sinking ship and her perishing crew.

PRIDE AND HUMILITY.

“ It may seem strange to an inconsiderate eye, that such a poor violet virtue (as

Humility) should ever dwell with honour; and that such an aspiring fume as
Pride is, should ever sojourn with a constant baseness.”

Felltham's Century of Resolves.
The gaudy flower of the aloe-tree,
From its tall stem, which for a hundred years
Has stood unhonour'd, now in pride appears,
Calls forth all eyes and praise, while all men see
And wonder. This, when its short-liv'd success,
Its brief unprofitable pride has gone,
Will stand another century, alone,
A very spectacle of uselessness,
A barren spot upon a fruitful ground.
The yearly violet wins how much more praise,
Honour'd the more because it shuns the gaze,
Which sheds its modest sweetness all around !
Pride in the end shall ever meanest be,
The greatest honour is humility.

INSCRIPTION ON A STONE WELL AT PARIS.

Quæ dat aquas, saxo latet hospita nympha sub imo.
Sic tu, quum dederis dona, latere velis."

IDEM ANGLICE REDDITUM.

The nymph, who gives these waters, lies

Beneath the inmost rock concealed.
Like her, when thou hast given gifts,

Be willing to be unrevealed.

IDEM GRÆCE.

Ναΐδ' ύδωρ παρέχουσαν αεί σπιλας ήδε καλύπτει.

Τών δωρών κόσμημ' έστι, το δόντα λαθείν.

ETON SCHOOL MAGAZINE.

No. VI.

ON THE ORESTEIA OF ÆSCHYLUS, No. III.

(Continued from p. 167.) THE EUMENIDES.

τα ακίνητα νόμιμα άριστα.-THύο.

The Eumenides, properly speaking, cannot be considered in the light of a drama, inasmuch as there is no attempt at a plot in its construction, but simply a detail of circumstances in the order in which they are supposed to have occurred. Æschylus, however, in writing this play, had a different object in view from that which appears most prominent in the two former,-a political object, which necessarily biassed his mind in a certain direction, and to which he rendered the legend he had to deal with subservient. This was the proposed diminution of the power of the court of Areopagus by Pericles and Ephialtes, a measure which, being in itself so entirely of a democratical nature, could not but fill the minds of the nobler part of the citizens, who looked upon this tribunal as their chief bulwark, with doubt and apprehension. The influence of the drama was always considerable over the minds of the people of Athens, through its intimate connection with religion ; and hence we shall have

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