Sweet Echo. SWEET Echo, sweetest nymph, that livest unseen Within thy aery shell, By slow Meander's margent green, And in the violet-embroidered vale, Where the love-lorn nightingale Nightly to thee her sad song mourneth well: That likest thy Narcissus are? O! if thou have Hid them in some flowery cave, Tell me but where, Sweet queen of parley, daughter of the sphere! So may'st thou be translated to the skies, And give resounding grace to all heaven's harmonies. MILTON. ΑΧΩ, κλύθί μοι, Αχώ, στροφή. νυμφάων ἀγανωτάτα, κρυπτὸν ἀέριον σκάφος ναίουσ', ἢ χλοερὰν πλάκα Ολύμποιο μελάθρων εὐκέλαδον πάσῃ δοίης ἁρμονίᾳ χάριν. ἀντιστρ. L. 1833. The Sacrifice. CHOOSE the darkest part o' th' grove, Is the sacrifice made fit? Pour in blood and bloodlike wine, Feast the ghosts that love the steam. 'Tis done. DRYDEN. ΑΓ ̓ οὖν, σκοτεινὸν ἐξερευνήσας μυχὸν, παρ ὀστίνοισι σκάπτε μοι τάφρου βάθος. Πᾶν καλῶς ἔχει. ἆρ ̓ ηὐτρέπισται πάνθ' ὅσα σφαγῆς ἔχει; Πᾶν καλῶς ἔχει. ἄλλ' αἵματ' ἐγχεῖν αἵμασίν τε προσφερὲς οἴνου γάνος μέμνησο, παμμήτωρ δὲ Γῆ δῶρον τόδ' ἱερὸν ἥ τε Περσέφασσ ̓ ἔχοι· προσθὲς δὲ ταῖς ῥοαῖσι συγκραθὲν γάλα, ἵν ̓ ἀτμίσιν χαίροντες οἱ κεκμηκότες θαλίαν ἔχωσιν· ἐκ δέ του νεκρῶν πυρᾶς ἀφαρπάσας σὺ δαλὸν εἰς τάφρον βάλε, ὅπως τὸ σύμπαν κάρτ ̓ ἀναζέσει φλογί. τρέπεσθε δ' ὄψιν πᾶς ἀνὴρ ἀφ ̓ ἡλίου. λέγ ̓ εἰ πέπρακται ταῦτα; Πᾶν καλῶς ἔχει. L. 1837. The Lotos-eaters. "COURAGE!" he said, and pointed toward the land: "This mounting wave will roll us shoreward soon." In the afternoon they came unto a land, In which it seemed always afternoon. All round the coast the languid air did swoon, A land of streams! some, like a downward smoke, Slow-dropping veils of thinnest lawn, did go: And some thro' wav'ring lights and shadows broke, Rolling a slumb'rous sheet of foam below. |