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"Stand , stragglers! stand! why early thus He sobs, he dies,-the troop, in wild amaze,
in arms ?
Unconscious whence the death, with horror From whence ? to whom?" lle meets with
gaze; no reply,
While pale they stare, thro' Tagus' temples Trusting the covert of the night, they fly;
riven, The thicket's depth, with hurried pace, A second shaft with equal force is driven;
they tread, Fierce Volscens rolls around his lowering While round the wood the hostile squadron
Veil'd by the night, secure the Trojan lies.
With brakes entangled , scarce a path “Thou youth accurst! thy life shall pay between,
for all." Dreary and dark appears the sylvan scene; Quick from the sheath his flaming glave Euryalus his heavy spoils impede,
he drew The boughs and winding turns his steps And, raging, on the boy defenceless flew.
Nisus no more the blackening shade conceals, But Nisus scours along the forest's maze, Forth,forth he starts and all his love reveals; To where Latinus' steeds in safety graze, Aghast, confused, his fears to madness rise, Then backward o'er the plain his eyes And pour these accents, shrieking as he flies :
“Me, me, your vengeance hurl on me alone, On every side they seek his absent friend. Here sheathe the steel, my blood is all "O God! my boy," he cries, “of me bereft,
your own; In what impending perils art thou left!" Ye starry Spheres ! thou conscious Heaven Listening he runs - above the waving trees,
attest! Tumultuous voices swell the passing breeze; He could not - durst not – lo! the guile The war-cry rises, thundering hoofs around
confest! Wake the dark echoes of the trembling All, all was mine—his early fate suspend,
He only loved too well his hapless friend; Again he turns-of footsteps hears the noise, Spare, spare, ye chiefs! from him your The sound elates — the sight his hape
rage remove, destroys;
His fault was friendship, all his crime was The hapless boy a ruffian train surround,
love." While lengthening shades his weary way He pray'd in vain, the dark assassin's sword
confound; Pierced the fair side, the snowy bosom gored; Him, with loud shouts, the furious knights Lowly to earth inclines his plume-clad crest,
And sanguine torrents mantle o'er his breast : Struggling in vain, a captive to the crew As some young rose, whose blossom scents What can his friend gainst thronging.
the air, numbers dare? Languid in death, expires beneath the share; Ah! must hé rush,his comrade's fate to share! Or crimson poppy, sinking with the shower, What force, what aid, what stratagem essay, Declining gently, falls a fading flower; Back to redeemn the Latian spoiler's prey! Thus, sweetly drooping, bends his lovely His life a votive ransom nobly give,
head, Or die with him for whom he wish'd to live! And lingering Beauty hovers round the dead. Poising with strength his lifted lance on
high, On Luna's orb he cast his phrenzied eye: But fiery Nisus stems the battle's tide, “Goddess serene, transcending every star! Revenge his leader, and Despair his guide; Queen of the sky! whose beams are seen afar; Volscens he seeks,amidst the gathering host, By night, Heaven owns thy sway, by day, Volscens must soon appease his comrade's the grove;
ghost; When, as chaste Dian, here thou deignst Steel, flashing, pours on steel, foe crowds to rove;
on foe, If e'er myself or sire have sought to grace Rage nerves his arm, Fate gleams in every Thine altars with the produce of the chace;
blow; Speed, speed, my dart, to pierce yon vaunt-In vain, beneath unnumber'd wounds he ing crowd,
bleeds, To free my friend, and scatter far the proud." Nor wounds, nor death, distracted Nisus Thus having said, the hissing dart he flung;
heeds; Through parted shades the hurtling weapon In viewless circles wheel'd his falchion flies,
Nor quits the Hero's grasp till Volscens dies; The thirsty point in Sulmo's entrails lay, Deep in his throat its end the weapon found, Transfix'd his heart, and stretch'd him on The tyrant's soul fled groaning through the clay:
This Nisus all his fond affection proved, Awakes an all-consuming fire;
From me be ever distant far.
Celestial pair! if aught my verse can claim, May no distracting thoughts destroy
May all the hours be wing'd with joy, Ages on ages shall your fate admire ; Which hover faithful hearts above! No future day shall see your names expire; Fair Venus! on thy myrtle-shrine, While stands the Capitol, immortal dome! May I with some fond lover sigh! And vanquish'd millions hail their Empress, Whose heart may mingle pure with mine,
With me to live, with me to die.
My native soil! beloved before,
Now dearer, as my peaceful home, TRANSLATION FROM THE MEDEA OF Ne'er may I quit thy rocky shore, EURIPIDES.
A hapless, banish'd wretch to roam;
This very day, this very hour, When fierce conflicting passions urge May I resign this fleeting breath,
The breast, where love is wont to glow, Nor qnit my silent, humble bower;
Which rolls the tide of human woe?
Can rouse the tortured breast no more ; And seen the exile's silent tear ?
Through distant climes condemn’d to fly, Absorbs each wish it felt before.
A pensive, weary wanderer here;
Ah! hapless dame! no sire bewails, But if affection gently thrills
No friend thy wretched fate deplores, The soul, by purer dreams possest, No kindred voice with rapture hails The pleasing balm of mortal ills,
Thy steps, within a stranger's doors. In love can soothe the aching breast; If thus, thou com’st in gentle guise, Perish the fiend! whose iron heart,
Fair Venus! from thy native heaven, To fair affection's truth unknown, What heart, unfeeling, would despise Bids her he fondly loved depart, The sweetest boon the Gods have given? Unpitied, helpless, and alone;
Who ne'er unlocks, with silver key, But never from thy golden bow
The milder treasures of his soul; May I beneath the shaft expire,
May such a friend be far from me, Whose creeping venom, sure and slow, And Ocean's storms between us roll!
THOUGHTS SUGGESTED BY A COL Happy the youth! in Euclid's axioms tried, LEGE EXAMINATION.
Though little versed in any art beside ;
Who, scarcely skill'd an English line to pen, Hica in the midst,surrounded by his peers, Scans Attic metres wit a critic's ken. Magnus his ample front sublime uprears; What! though he knows not how his fathers Placed on his chair of state, he seems
bled, a God,
When civil discord piled the fields with dead; While Sophs and Freshmen tremble at When Edward bade his conquering bands his nod;
advance, As all around sit wrapt in speechless gloom, Or Henry trampled on the crest of France ; His voice, in thunder, shakes the sounding Though, marv'ling at the name of Magna dime,
Charta, Denouncing dire reproach to luckless fools, Yet, well he recollects the laws of Sparta; Unokill'd to plod in mathema:ic rules. Can tell what edicts sage Lycurgus inade,
While Blackstone 's on the shelf neglected To him, with suppliant smiles, they bend
the head, Of Grecian dramas vaunts the deathless While distant mitres to their eyes are spread;
But should a storm o'erwhelm him with Of Avon's bard remembering scarce the
disgrace, They'd fly to seek įthe next who fillid his
Such are the men who learning's treasures Such is the youth, whose scientific pate
TO THE EARL OF •••
“Tu semper amoris We do not try, by speaking, to convince; Sis memor, et cari comitis ne abscedat imago."
VALERIUS FLACCUS. Be other orators of pleasing proud, We speak to please ourselves, not move the FRIEND of my youth! when young we roved,
Like striplings mutually beloved,
When distant far from you;
Though pain, 'tis still a pleasing pain, The who hopes t obtain the pro- To trace those days and hours again,
And sigh again, adieu !
Life's evening-dream is dark and dull, Who utters most within the shortest space, And we may meet-ah! never ! May safely hope to win the wordy race.
As when one parent-spring supplies
Two streams, which from one fountain rise, The sons of science these, who,thus repaid, Together join'd in vain; Linger in ease in Granta's sluggish shade; How soon, diverging from their source, Whereon Cam's sedgy banks supine they lie, Each murmuring seeks another course, Unknown, unhonour'd live, - unwept for Till mingled in the Main :
die; Dull as the pictures which adorn their halls, Our vital streams of weal or woe, They think all learning fix'd within their Though near, alas! distinctly flow,
Nor mingle as before ; In manners rude, in foolish forms precise, Now swift or slow, now black or clear, All modern arts affecting to despise ;
Till death's unfathom'd gulph appear, Yet prizing Bentley's, BRUNck's, or Por And both shall quit the shore.
son's note, More than the verse on which the critic Our souls, my Friend! which once supplied
One wish, nor breathed a thoaght beside, Vain as their honours, heavy as their ale, Now flow in different channels; Sad as their wit, and tedious as their tale, Disdaining humbler rural sports, To friendship dead, though not antaught | Tis yours to mix in polish'd courts,
And shine in Fashion's annals. When Self and Church demand a bigot
"Tis mine to waste on love my time, With eager haste they court the lord of Or vent my reveries in rhyme,
Without the aid of Reason; Whether 'tis Pirt or Petty rules the hour: For Sense and Reason (Critics know it)
Have quitted every amorous Poet, | And, though some trifling share of praise,
To me were doubly dear;
To prove a Prophet here.
As void of wit and moral.
GRANTA, A MEDLEY.
Αργυρεαις λογχαισι μαχου και παντα Thy soothing lays may still be read,
Oh! could Le Sage's demon's gift
Be realized at my desire, Still, I must yield those worthies merit, This night my trembling form he'd lift, Who chasten, with unsparing spirit, To place it on St. Mary's spire.
Bad rhymes, and those who write them; And though myself may be the next Then would, unroof'd, old Granta's halls By critic sarcasm to be vext,
Pedantic inmates full display; I really will not fight them;
Fellows who dream on lawn, or stalls,
The price of venal votes to pay.
Petty and Palmerston survey;
Who canvass there with all their might, Ere thirty, may become, I ween,
Against the next elective day A very harden'd sinner.
Lo! candidates and voters lie, Now-I must return to you,
All lull'd in sleep, a goodly number! And sure apologies are due;
A race renown'd for piety, Accept then my concession ;
Whose conscience won't disturb their In truth, dear ***, in fancy's flight,
slumber. I soar along from left to right, My muse admires digression.
Lord H, indeed, may not demur,
Fellows are sage, reflecting men !
But very seldom,- now and then
Each hopes that one may be his lot,
And, therefore, smile on his proposal. Yet, since in danger courts abound, Where specious rivals glitter round, Now, from the soporific scene
From snares may Saints preserve you ; I'll turn mine eye, as night grows later, And grant your love or friendship neer To view, unheeded and unseen, From any claim a kindred care,
The studious sons of Alma Mater. But those who best deserve you.
There, in apartments small and damp, Not for a moment may you stray
The candidate for college-prizes
Goes late to bed, yet early rises.
He, surely, well deserves to gain them, Your tears be tears of joy.
With all the honours of his college,
Who, striving hardly to obtain them, Oh! if you wish that happiness
Thus seeks unprofitable knowledge ; Your coming days and years may bless,
And virtues crown your brow : Who sacrifices hours of rest,
To scan, precisely, metres Attic;
* In solving problems mothernatic ;
Who reads false quantities in Sele, But, if I scribble longer now,
The deuce a soul will stay to read; Deprived of many a wholesome meal, My pen is blunt, my ink is low,
In barbarous Latin doom'd to wrangle; Tis almost time to stop, indeed. Renouncing every pleasing page
Therefore, farewell, old Granta's spires, From authors of historic use;
No more, like Cleofas, I fly; Preferring to the letter'd sage
No more thy theme my Muse inspires, The square of the hypothenuse.
The reader's tired, and so am I. Still, harmless are these occupations,
That hurt none but the hapless student, Compared with other recreations,
LACHIN Y GAIR. Which bring together the imprudent ;
LACHIN Y GAIR , or, as it is pronounced in the Whose daring revels shock the sight,
Erye, Loch NA GARR, towers proudly pre
eminent in the Northern Highlands, near laWhen vice and infamy combine;
vercanld. One of our modern Tourists nenWhen drunkenness and dice unite,
tions it as the highest mountain, perhaps, in And every sense is steep'd in wine.
GREAT BRITAIN; be this as it may, it is certainly one of the most sublime and picturesque
amongst our “ Caledonian Alps." Its appearNot so the methodistic crew,
ance is of a dusky hue, but the summit is the Who plans of reformation lay:
seat of eternal snows: near Lachin y Gair I In humble attitude they sue,
spent some of the early part of my life, the And for the sins of others pray;
recollection of which has given birth to the
following Stanzas. Forgetting, that their pride of spirit, Away, ye gay landscapes, ye gardens of Their exultation in their trial,
roses! Detracts most largely from the merit In you let the minions of luxury rove; Of all their boasted self-denial.
Restore me the rocks where the snow-flake
reposes, 'Tis morn,- from these I turn my sight: Though still they are sacred to freedom What scene is this which meets the eye?
and love: A numerous crowd array'd in white, Yet, Caledonia, beloved are thy mountains, Across the green in numbers fly.
Round their white summits though ele
ments war, Loud rings, in air, the chapel-bell; Though cataracts foam, 'stead of smooth 'Tis hush'd: What sounds are these I hear?
flowing fountains, The organ's soft celestial swell
I sigh for the valley of dark Loch na Garr. Rolls deeply on the listening ear.
Ah! there my young footsteps in infancy To this is join'd the sacred song,
wander'd, The royal minstrel's hallow'd strain; My cap was the bonnet, my cloak was the Thongh he who hears the music long
plaid; Will never wish to hear again.
On chieftains long perish'd my memory
ponder'd, Our choir would scarcely be excused, As daily I strode through the pine-cover'd Even as a band of raw beginners;
glade; All mercy, now, must be refused, I sought not my home till the day's dying To such a set of croaking sinners.
Gave place to the rays of the bright polarIf David, when his toils were ended,
star; Had heard these blockheads sing before For Fancy was cheer'd by traditional story
Disclosed by the natives of dark Loch To us his psalms had ne'er descended,
na Garr. In furious mood he would have tore 'em.
“Shades of the dead ! have I not heard your The luckless Israelites, when taken,
voices By some inhuman tyrant's order,
Rise on the night-rolling breath of the Were ask'd to sing, by joy forsaken,
gale ?" On Babylonian river's border:
Surely the soul of the hero rejoices,
And rides on the wind o'er his own HighOh! had they sung in notes like these,
land vale: Inspired by stratagem or fear,
Round Loch na Garr, while the stormy They might have set their hearts at ease,
mist gathers, The devil a soul had stay'd to hear. Winter presides in his cold icy car;