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CORNICULA.

BY VINCENT BOURNE.

Nigras inter aves avis est, quæ plurima turres,

Antiquas ædas, celsaque Fana colit.
Nil tam sublime est, quod non audace volatu,

Aeriis spernens inferiora, petit.
Qno nemo ascendat, cui non vertigo cerebrum

Corripiat, certè hunc seligit illa locum. Quo vix à terrâ tu suspicis absque tremore,

Illa metûs expers incolumisque sedet.
Lamina delubri supra fastigia, ventus

Quâ cæli spiret de regione, docet;
Hanc ea præ reliquis mavult, secura pericli,

Nec curat, nedum cogitat, unde cadat.
Res inde humanas, sed summa per otia, spectat,

Et nihil ad sese, quas videt, esse videt. Concursus spectat, plateâque negotia in omni,

Omnia pro nugis at sapienter habet.
Clamores, quas infra audit, si forsitan audit,

Pro rebus nihili negligit, et crocitat.
Ille tibi invideat, felix Cornicula, pennas,

Qui sic humanis rebus abesse velit.,

II.-THE JACKDAW.

TRANSLATION OF THE FOREGOING.

THERE is a bird, who by his coat,
And by the hoarseness of his note,

Might be supposed a crow;
A great frequenter of the church,
Where bishop-like he finds a perch,

And dormitory too.

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Above the steeple shines a plate,
That turns and turns, to indicate

From what point blows the weather. Look up---your brains begin to swim, "Tis in the clouds---that pleases him,

He chooses it the rather.

Fond of the speculative height,
Thither he wings his airy flight,

And thence securely sees
The bustle and the raree show,
That occupy mankind below,

Secure, and at his ease.

You think, no doubt, he sits and muses
On future broken bones and bruises,

If he should chance to fall.
No; not a single thought like that
Employs his philosophic pate,

Or troubles it at all.

He sees that this great roundabout,
The world, with all its motley rout,

Church, army, physic, law,
Its customs, and its businesses,
Is no concern at all of his,
And

says

he?-Caw. Thrice happy bird ! I too have seen Much of the vanities of men ;

And, sick of having seen 'em, Would cheerfully, these limbs resign For such a pair of wings as thine,

And such a head between 'em.

says--what

AD GRILLUM.

ANACREONTICUM-BY VINCENT BOURNE.

O QUI meæ culinæ
Argutulus choraules,
Et hospes es canorus,
Quacunque commoreris,
Felicitatis omen;
Jucundiore cantu
Siquando me salutes,
Et ipse te rependam,
Et ipse, quâ valebo,
Remunerabo musâ.
Diceris innocensque
Et gratus inquilinus ;
Nec victitans rapinis,
Ut sorices voraces,
Muresve curiosi,
Furumque delicatum

Vulgus domesticorum; Sed tutus in camini Recessibus, quiete Contentus et calore.

Beatior Cicada, Quæ te referre formâ, Quæ voce te videtur; Et seltitans per herbas, Unius, hand secundæ, Æstatis est chorista: Tu carmen integratum Reponis ad Decembrem, Lætus per universum Incontinenter annum. Te nulla lux relinquit, Te nulla nox revisit, Non musicæ vacantem, Curisve non solutum : Quin amplies canendo, Quin amplies fruendo, Ætatulam, vel omni, Quam nos homunciones Absumimus querendo, Ætate longiorem.

:

III. THE CRICKET.

TRANSLATION OF THE FOREGOING,

LITTLE inmate, full of mirth,
Chirping on my kitchen hearth,
Whersoe'er be thine abode,
Always harbinger of good,
Pay me for thy warm retreat
With a song more soft and sweet;
In return thou shalt receive
Such a strain as I can give.
Thus thy praise shall be exprest,
Inoffensive, welcome guest!
While the rat is on the scout,
And the mouse with curious snout,
With what vermin else infest
Every dish, and spoil the best;
Frisking thus before the fire,
Thou hast all thine heart's desire.

Though in voice and shape they be
Formed as if akin to thee,
Thou surpassest, happier far,
Happiest grasshoppers that are ;
Their's is but a summer's song,
Thine endures the winter long,
Unimpaired, and shrill, and clear,
Melody throughout the year.
Neither night, nor dawn of day,
Puts a period to thy play:
Sing then---and extend thy span
Far beyond the date of man.

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