THE LOTUS EATERS.

Dear is the memory of our wedded lives,
And dear the last embraces of our wives,

And their warm tears, but all hath suffered change
For surely now our household hearths are cold;
Our sons inherit us; our looks are strange;
And we should come like ghosts to trouble joy;
Or else the island princes over bold
Have eat our substance, and the minstrel sings
Before them of the ten years' war in Troy,
And our great deeds as half-forgotten things.
Is there confusion in the little isle?
Let what is broken so remain.
The gods are hard to reconcile,
'Tis hard to settle order once again.

TENNYSON.

IDEM GRAECE.

Τῶν δ ̓ ὅστις λωτοῖο φάγοι μελιηδέα καρπόν,
οὐκέτ ̓ ἀπαγγεῖλαι πάλιν ἤθελεν, οὐδὲ νέεσθαι.

Καὶ δὴ φιλοῦμεν νυμφίου μνείαν λέχους,
καὶ τῶν δαμάρτων ὕσταθ ̓ ἡδονὴν ἔχει
ἀσπάσμαθ ̓ ἡμῖν καὶ τὰ θερμὰ δάκρυα.
ἀλλ ̓ οὐδέν ἡμῖν οὐ μετήλλακται χρόνῳ.
καὶ γὰρ πατρῴαις ἑστίαις οὐκ ἔστ ̓ ἔτι
θάλπος· τὰ δ ̓ ἡμῶν νῦν νέμουσιν οἱ τόκοι
καὶ δεινὸν ἡμῶν ὄμμα κἄκτοπον δοκεῖ,
χως φάσματ ̓ ἄν φαινοίμεθ', ἄχθος ἡδονῆς·
ἢ χοἰ κρατοῦντες γῆς ἀεὶ τολμήστατοι
ἡμῶν ἔτλησαν τόν βίον βεβρωκέναι
ἴσως δὲ κἂν μολπαῖσι τις πλάσσοι μέλη,
δεκετῆ πονοῦντα πόλεμον Ιδαιον λέγων,
χἠμῶν τὰ κλεῖνα πράγμαθ' ὡς λελησμένα.
ἀλλ ̓ εἰ γ ̓ ἀκόσμως ἥδε γῆ ταράσσεται
εἶεν· τὸ θραυσθέν τοι μένειν οὕτως δοκεῖ·
χαλεπὸν γὰρ ἐστί τοι διαλλάσσειν θεούς
καὶ δυσχερές τὸν κόσμον ἐξορθοῦν πάλιν.

E. N. GARDINER.

PUBLIC DUTIES.

The single and peculiar life is bound
With all the strength and armour of the mind
To keep itself from noyance; but much more
That spirit on whose weal depend and rest
The lives of many. The cease of majesty
Dies not alone; but, like a gulf, doth draw
What's near it, with it: it is a massy wheel,
Fixed on the summit of a mighty mount,

To whose huge spokes ten thousand lesser things
Are mortised and adjoined; which, when it falls,
Each small annexment, petty consequence,

Attends the boisterous ruin; never alone

Did the king sigh, but with a general groan.

SHAKESPEARE.

IDEM GRAECE.

Ὁ μὲν καθ ̓ αὑτὸν ἴδιος ἐξάγων βίον
ῥώμῃ τε πάσῃ καὶ κατασκευῇ φρενῶν
νόσον τ ̓ ἀμύνειν καὶ βλάβην ὀφείλεται
πολλῷ δὲ μᾶλλον, ὅστις εὐτυχής περ ὤν
πολλῶν κρεμαστοὺς ἐξ ἑνὸς φέρει βίους.
οὔ τοι τυράννοις ἡ 'ξόδος μονόστολος
ἀλλ ̓ ὥστε δινὴ πάνθ' ὅσ ̓ ἐστὶ πλησία,
ἕλκει σὺν αὑτῷ· χὠσπερεί τρόχος μέγας
ἐν ὑψιπύργῳ πηκτὸς ἐμφανῶς ὄρει,
οὗ καὶ χνόαις ἐλάσσον, ἀνάριθμον βάρος,
γόμφοις ἄραρεν, χοὗτος ἢν πεσὼν τυχῇ,
τὰ φαῦλ ̓ ἅμ ̓ αὐτῷ πάντα συμπίτνει κάτω
δεινῶς διαφθαρέντα· καὶ γὰρ οὐ μόνος
στένει τύραννος, μὴ οὐχὶ παγκοίνῳ γόῳ.

H. L. CALLENDAR.

DEATH SPEAKETH TO SIN.

Whom thus the meagre shadow answered soon.
'Go whither fate and inclination strong
Leads thee, I shall not lag behind, nor err
The way, thou leading, such a scent I draw
Of carnage, prey innumerable, and taste

The savour of death from all things there that live :
Nor shall I to the work thou enterprisest

Be wanting, but afford thee equal aid.'

So saying, with delight he snuffed the smell

Of mortal change on earth. As when a flock
Of ravenous fowl, though many a league remote,
Against the day of battle, to a field,
Where armies lie encamped, come flying, lured
With scent of living carcases designed
For death, the following day, in bloody fight:
So scented the grim feature, and upturned
His nostril wide into the murky air,
Sagacious of his quarry from so far.

MILTON, P. L. x. 264.