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Strife, wounds, and ghastly death unseen before,
Fell; and the unseasonable seasons drove
With alternating shafts of frost and fire,
Their shelterless pale tribes to mountain caves,
And in their desert hearts fierce wants he sent,
And mad disquietudes, and shadows idle
Of unreal good, which levied mutual war.

Prometheus Unbound.

WEDNESDAY, December 3.

Into Latin Hexameters.

Hard by these shores, where scarce his freezing stream
Rolls the wild Oby, live the last of men ;
And half-enlivened by the distant sun,
Here human nature wears its rudest form.
Deep from the piercing season sunk in caves,
Here by dull fires, and with unjoyous cheer,
They waste the tedious gloom. Immersed in furs
Doze the gross race. Nor sprightly jest, nor song,
Nor tenderness they know; nor aught of life
Beyond the kindred bears that stalk without.
Till morn at length, her roses drooping all,
Sheds a long twilight brightening o'er their fields,
And calls the quivering savage to the chase.

FRIDAY, December 5.

Into Latin Elegiacs.

Thomson's Winter.

In vain to me the smiling mornings shine,
And reddening Phoebus lifts his golden fire:
The birds in vain their am'rous descant join,
Or cheerful fields resume their green attire;
These ears, alas! for other notes repine:

A different object do these eyes require;
My lonely anguish melts no heart but mine,
And in my breast the imperfect joys expire;
Yet morning smiles the busy race to cheer,
And new-born pleasure brings to happier men;
The fields to all their wonted tribute bear;
To warn their little loves the birds complain:
I fruitless mourn to him that cannot hear,
And weep the more because I weep in vain.
Gray, on the Death of West.

MONDAY, December 8.

Into Latin Prose.

A

Then ensued a scene of woe, the like of which no eye had seen, no heart conceived, and which no tongue can adequately tell. All the horrors of war before known or heard of, were mercy to this new havoc. storm of universal fire blasted every field, consumed every house, destroyed every temple. The miserable inhabitants, flying from their flaming villages, in part were slaughtered; others, without regard to sex, to age, to the respect of rank, or sacredness of function, fathers torn from children, husbands from wives, enveloped in a whirlwind of cavalry, and amidst the goading spears of drivers, and the trampling of pursuing horses, were swept into captivity, in an unknown and hostile land. Those who were able to evade this tempest, fled to the walled cities. But escaping from fire, sword, and exile, they fell into the jaws of famine.

Burke, Speech on the Nabob of Arcot's Debts.

WEDNESDAY, December 10.

Into Greek Prose.

As soon as the design against his brother's throne was decided, Cyrus, with increased sedulity, extended his connexions among the Greeks. They alone, among the nations of that time, knew how to train armies, so that thousands of men might act as one machine. Hence their heavy-armed had a power, in the shock of battle, that no number of more irregular troops, however brave, could resist. To men of character, therefore, from any part of Greece, but especially from Peloponnesus, whose heavy armed were of highest reputation, introduction to Cyrus was easy. The fame of his munificence and of his liberal manner invited; and many became connected with him by the pledge of hospitality, which, with the Persians, not less than among the Greeks, was held sacred.

Mitford, History of Greece, Vol. V.

FRIDAY, December 12.

Into Latin Hexameters.

While thus he spake, the angelic squadron bright

Turn'd fiery red, sharpened in mooned horns.
Their phalanx, and began to hem him round
With ported spears, as thick as when a field
Of Ceres ripe for harvest waving bends

Her bearded grove of ears, which way the wind
Sways them the careful ploughman doubting stands,
Lest on the threshing-floor his hopeful sheaves
Prove chaff. On the other side Satan, alarmed,
Collecting all his might, dilated stood,

Like Teneriff, or Atlas, unremoved.

Milton, Paradise Lost, B. IV.

MONDAY, December 15.

Into Greek Iambics.

Alas, my daughter!

Thou hast rashly ventured in a stormy sea,

Where life, fame, virtue, all were wrecked and lost;
But sure thou hast borne thy part in all the anguish,
And smarted with the pain; then rest in peace,
Let silence and oblivion hide thy name,
And save thee from the malice of posterity;

And may'st thou find from heaven the same forgiveness
As with thy father here-die and be happy.

Rowe's Fair Penitent; a Tragedy.

LOVESY, PRINTER,

PROMENADE, CHELTENHAM.

SELECTIONS FOR COMPOSITION,

IN PROSE AND VERSE,

FOR THE USE OF THE HIGHER CLASSES IN

CHELTENHAM COLLEGE.

Secand Series.

BY

THE REV. W. DOBSON, M.A.,

PRINCIPAL.

LONDON:

SIMPKIN, MARSHALL, & CO., STATIONERS' HALL COURT.

CHELTENHAM:

JOHN LOVESY, PROMENADE.

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