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PASSAGES FOR TRANSLATION

INTO LATIN LYRIC VERSE

I

G

LYRICS FOR LEGACIES
OLD I've none, for use or show,

neither silver to bestow
at my death; but thus much know,
that each lyric here shall be
of my love a legacy,
left to all posterity.
Gentle friends, then do but please
to accept such coins as these,
as my last remembrances.

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music can soften pain to ease,
and make despair and madness please:
our joys below it can improve,
and antedate the bliss above.

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4

MUSIC, when soft voices die,

vibrates
odours, when sweet violets sicken,
live within the sense they quicken.
Rose leaves, when the rose is dead,
are heap'd for the beloved's bed;
and so thy thoughts, when thou art gone,
love itself shall slumber on.

P. B. SHELLEY

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GOD

OD that madest earth and heaven,

darkness and light!
who the day for toil hast given,

for rest the night!
may Thine Angel Guards defend us,
slumber sweet Thy mercy send us,
holy dreams and hopes attend us,

this livelong night!

R. HEBER

6

A LAMENT FOR ISRAEL

you,

even a lamentation, O house of Israel. The virgin of Israel is fallen; she shall no more rise: she is forsaken upon her land; there is none to raise

her up.

Wailing shall be in all the streets;
and they shall say in all the high-ways, Alas! alas!
and they shall call the husbandman to mourning,
and such as are skilful of lamentation to wailing.

AMOS

7

A SIMILE

I

SAW a falling leaf soon strew

the soil to which it owed its birth; I saw a bright star falling too,

but never reach the quiet earth.

Such is the lowly portion blest,

such is ambition's foiled endeavour; the falling leaf is soon at rest,

while stars that fall fall on for ever.

8

BUT

JOYS AS WINGED DREAMS FLY FAST
UT, ah! what liveth long in happiness?

grief of a heavy nature steady lies,
and cannot be remov'd for weightiness;

but joy of lighter presence eas'ly flies,
and seldom comes, and soon away will go:
some secret power here all things orders so,
that for a sunshine day follows an age of woe.

P. FLETCHER

9

AN OLD MAN'S REFLECTIONS
'Y

with childish tears,
my heart is idly stirr'd,
for the same sound is in my ears

which in those days I heard.
Thus fares it still in our decay;

and yet the wiser mind
mourns less for what time takes away,
than what he leaves behind.

W. WORDSWORTH

IO

AND

MAJOR BELLENDEN'S SONG
ND what though winter will pinch severe

through locks of grey and a cloak that's old, yet keep up thy heart, bold cavalier,

for a cup of sack shall fence the cold.
For time will rust the brightest blade,

and years will break the strongest bow;
was never wight so starkly made,
but time and years would overthrow.

SIR W. SCOTT

II

GRATITUDE
WHAT

THAT is grandeur, what is power ?

heavier toil, superior pain. what the bright reward we gain? the grateful memory of the good.

Sweet is the breath of vernal shower,
the bee's collected treasures sweet,
sweet music's melting fall, but sweeter yet
the still small voice of gratitude.

T. GRAY

12

O

WEEP not for the gathered rose !

O mourn not for the friend that dies !
In beauty's breast the flower blows-

the soul is happy in the skies.
Weep not for these! but weep for them,

the unloved, the friendless, the unknown-
the flowers that wither on the stem,

the living that must live alone!

G. TREVOR

13

THE DEATH OF THE GOOD

A

to breathless Nature's dark abyss;
but when the great and good depart,
what is it more than this,
that man, who is from God sent forth,
doth yet again to GOD return?
Such ebb and flow must ever be;
then wherefore should we mourn ?

W. WORDSWORTH

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HARKA harkbusheilaskarit heaven's gate sings,

Phæbus 'gins arise
his steeds to water at those springs

on chaliced flowers that lies;
and winking Mary-buds begin

to ope their golden eyes;
with everything that pretty bin:
my lady sweet, arise ;
arise, arise.

W. SHAKESPEARE

15

TO A LADY, WITH FLOWERS FROM A ROMAN WALL

"AKE these flowers, which purple waving

TAKE

ABE the ruined erampart grew

where, the sons of freedom braving,

Rome's imperial standards flew.
Warriors from the breach of danger

pluck no longer laurels there;
they but yield the passing stranger
wild-flower wreaths for Beauty's hair.

SIR W. SCOTT

16.

BE

THE RESURRECTION EGIN the song, and strike the living lyre ; lo, how the years to come, a numerous and well

fitted quire,
all hand in hand do decently advance
and to my song with smooth and equal measures dance.
Whilst the dance last, how long soe'er it be,
my music's voice shall bear it company;

till all gentle notes be drowned
in the last trumpet's dreadful sound.

A. COWLEY

THE RAINBOW

My hemainbow in the sky

Y heart leaps up when I behold

so was it when my life began,

so is it, now I am a man,
so shall be it, when I grow old,

or let me die!
The Child is father of the Man,
and I could wish my days to be
bound each to each by natural piety.

W. WORDSWORTH

18

-'TIS sweet to hear
at midnight on the blue and moonlit deep
the song and oar of Adria's gondolier,

by distance mellowed, o'er the waters sweep;

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