"Go up to Macerata, and from thence

Take thy full prospect of intelligence;

Nought shalt thou see beneath the heaven's blue dome
But winding roads to many a distant town

Far leading, and the oxen on the hill,
And in the city citizens' renown,
And all the world's epitome." Oh still
Wide o'er Romagna doth thy glory sway
Fair city, thou hast a legate, as they say,
And a great tennis-court thy thoughts to fill.

D

AT AN OLD CASTLE.

ARK looks the Jew at the noble's hall,
Blithely the peasant walks over the lea,

He knows nothing of towers that fall

Rent by the ivy so fair to see.
Joy to the violet smelling so sweet

Under the hedges his steps to greet.

Ivy and Violet, what do ye here,

With blossom and shoot in the warm spring weather?

Hiding the arms of Monchenci and Vere

On the lonely gate ye are met together.
'Tis an old tale of the days gone by
With the wind in the nettles for symphony.

[FROM ENNIUS.]

THE ANSWER OF PYRRHUS TO FABRICIUS.

BID near not

ID me no price, and proffer me no gold,

'Tis war we wage, and it may not be sold,
Gaged are our lives, and iron must decide
Your reign or mine, and let what fate betide
We'll try by prowess. But take here my word,
Whose heart the fortune of the fight hath spared,
As surely will I spare his freedom too,

With the great Gods to aid I give him back to you.

"Nec mî aurum posco, nec mî pretium dederitis ;
Nec cauponantes bellum, sed belligerantes;

Ferro, non auro, vitam cernamus utrique,

Vosne velit, an me regnare Hera; quidve ferat sors
Virtute experiamur et hoc simol accipe dictum :
Quorum virtutei belli Fortuna pepercit,
Horumdem me libertatei parcere certum est:
Dono ducite, doque volentibus cum magneis Dîs."

Then come the wandering gipsies to the door, And the dogs bark, for they look wild and poor.

But the merry owls laugh
In the cold moonshine,
When the Zingari quaff

The knight's red wine;
And the churl brings chaff,

'Stead of corn to his kine;

So doth the world its changes ever keepLaugh on, old owl, while Care lies fast asleep!

N N

IMPROVISED ON HORSEBACK

ΤΟ

A SPRING THAT WAS DRIED UP NEAR

HANMER.

ID then the dog-star look

DID

Too long on thy fainting streams,

Till their naïad could not brook

His swart Egyptian beams, And shrunk to the caves below, Leaving her bright bed dry?— Again, sweet fountain, flow!

For Autumn's rains are nigh,

And the west wind sweeps down through the cloud-curtain'd sky.

THE END.

CHISWICK PRESS;-C. WHITTINGHAM, TOOKS COURT, CHANCERY LANE.