Specimens of the classic poets in a chronolgical series from Homer to Tryphiodorus. tr. into Engl. verse, with biogr. and critical notices by C.A. Elton, Volume 3

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Page 256 - Thy gifts just shown are ravish'd from our eyes. One day the rose's age, and while it blows In dawn of youth, it withers to its close. The rose the glittering sun beheld, at morn, Spread to the light its blossoms newly born, When in his round he looks from evening skies, Already droops in age, and fades, and dies. Yet bless'd, that soon to fade, the numerous flower Succeeds herself, and still prolongs her hour.
Page 255 - The teeming chives shot forth ; the petals spread ; The bow-pot's glory rear'd its smiling head : While this, that ere the passing moment flew, Flamed forth one blaze of scarlet on the view ; Now shook from withering stalk the waste perfume, Its verdure stript, and pale its faded bloom. I marvell'd at the spoiling flight of time, That roses thus grew old in earliest prime.
Page 75 - THE girl that was to ear and sight More soft of tone, of skin more white, Than plumaged swans, that yield in death The sweetest murmur of their breath : Smooth as Galesus...
Page 71 - What this is, Cotilus, I wish to know. "A beau is one who, with the nicest care, In parted locks divides his curling hair ; One who with balm and cinnamon smells sweet, Whose humming lips some Spanish air repeat ; Whose naked arms are smooth'd with pumice-stone. And toss'd about with graces all his own...
Page 254 - Twere doubtful, if the blossoms of the rose Had rob'd the morning, or the morning those. In dew, in tint the same, the star and flower ; For both confess the queen of beauty's power: Perchance their sweets the same : but this more nigh Exhales its breath ; and that embalms the sky : Of flower and star the Goddess is the same, And both she tinged with hues of roseate flame.
Page 116 - Capys fix'd his Trojan colony: Near lies the native city of my love ; The mild soil Phoebus, by the guiding dove, Show'd to Parthenope: the Syren Maid Cross'd the wide seas, and here her Naples laid. Hither I seek to bear thee: not my race Springs from wild Lybia, nor from barb'rous Thrace. Temper'd by breezy summers, winters bland, The waveless seas glide slumbering to the land : Safe peace is here; life's careless ease is ours; Unbroken rest, and sleep till morning hours. No courts here rage; no...
Page 300 - And poppies.smiling wave the rosy head, That yield no opiate to a restless bed. If for the birds I weave the limed snare, Or for the startlish deer the net prepare, Or with a slender thread the fish delude, No other wiles disturb these woodlands rude. Go now, and barter life's calm stealing days For pompous suppers, that with luxury blaze ! Pray Heaven ! for me the lot may thus be cast, And future time glide peaceful as the past.
Page 49 - gainst the sun in arching colours glows. Exulting Jason grasped the shining hide, His last of labours, and his envied pride. Slow from the groaning branch the fleece was rent; Of Phryxus' flight the splendid monument For years long past: the tree reluctant bends, And sudden darkness o'er its top descends. Emerging from the wood, they took their way Through plains that glanced beneath the gleaming ray, To where the river opened in a bay. His limbs and back are wrapt in shaggy gold, His left arm mantled...
Page 298 - ON A QUIET LIFE. SMALL fields are mine ; a small and guiltless rent ; In both I prize the quiet of content. My mind maintains its peace ; from feverish dread Secure, and fear of crimes, that sloth has bred. Others let toilsome camps or curule chairs Invite, and joys which vain ambition shares. May I, my lot among the people thrown, The badge of rank unsought for and unknown, Live to myself, and call my time mine own.
Page 76 - Is fain to beat his mourning breast, And tear his hair beside a grave, Asks, " Blush you not to mourn a slave ? I mourn a high, rich, noble wife : And yet I bear my lot in life ! " Thy fortitude exceeds all bounds : Thou hast two hundred thousand pounds; Thou bear'st — 't is true — thy lot of life : Thou bear'st the jointure of thy wife ! — Translation of SIR CHARLES ABRAHAM ELTON.

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