ATEFUL is the dark-blue sky
Vaulted o'er the dark-blue sea.
Death is the end of life; ah, why
Should life all labour be?
Let us alone. Time driveth onward fast,
And in a little while our lips are dumb.
Let us alone. What is it that will last?
All things are taken from us, and become
Portions and parcels of the dreadful past.
Let us alone. What pleasure can we have
To war with evil? Is there any peace
In ever climbing up the climbing wave?
All things have rest, and ripen toward the grave
In silence, ripen, fall, and cease.
Give us long rest or death, dark death or dreamful ease.
Εἰμὶ μὲν οὐ φιλόοινος· ὅταν δ ̓ ἐθέλης με μεθύσσαι,
πρῶτα σὺ γενομένη πρόσφερε, καὶ δέχομαι.
εἰ γὰρ ἐπιψαύσεις τοῖς χείλεσιν, οὐκέτι νήφειν
εὐμαρές, οὐδὲ φυγεῖν τὸν γλυκὺν οἰνοχόον
πορθμεύει γὰρ ἔμοιγε κύλιξ παρὰ σοῦ τὸ φίλημα,
καί μοι ἀπαγγέλλει τὴν χάριν, ἣν ἔλαβεν.
Νόστου βούλοντο λαθέσθαι.
JERT ipse pontus taedium et imminens
Superne caelum, caerula caerulis
Porrecta; cur tanto labore
Gens terimus peritura vitam?
Tandem precamur, qvisqvis es, abstine
Lassos fatigandi, ut pedibus ruit
Tempus citatis, nostraqve aevo
Functa brevi labra conticebunt.
Qvid non caducum? Cur miser inchoet
Spem longiorem, singula cui sua
Raptantur extorqventur eheu
Tristibus accumulanda fastis?
Cessemus. Ecqvid profuit invidis
Certare divis? Pontum iterantibus
Qvae pax, ubi aeternat labores
Unda superveniens in undam?
Nil non qviescit: nec nisi funeri
Maturat aetas omnia: da mori aut
Cessare nobis ; da qvietem
Somniferam tenebrasve leti.
ON ego vinosus: si vis me mergere poclis,
Praegustata tibi profer, et accipiam.
Si labra admoris cyatho, qvis sobrius adstet,
Qvis renuat, cum sis pulchra ministra meri?
Oscula nam cyathus de te mihi suavia tradit,
Qvamqve voluptatem senserit ipse refert.
HEREFORE doth Heaven divide
The state of man in divers functions,
Setting endeavour in continual motion;
To which is fixed, as an aim or butt,
Obedience: for so work the honey-bees;
Creatures that, by a rule in nature, teach
The act of order to a peopled kingdom.
They have a king, and officers of sorts:
Where some, like magistrates, correct at home;
Others, like merchants, venture trade abroad;
Others, like soldiers, armed in their stings,
Make boot upon the summer's velvet buds;
Which pillage they with merry march bring home
To the tent royal of their
Who, busied in his majesty, surveys
The singing masons building roofs of gold;
The civil citizens kneading up the honey;
The poor mechanic porters crowding in
Their heavy burdens at his narrow gate;
The sad-eyed justice, with his surly hum,
Delivering o'er to executors pale
The lazy yawning drone.
Uebel ist ein Schiff berathen auf dem sturmbewegten Meer; Doch ein Herz im Sturm der Liebe ist es wahrlich noch viel mehr. Jenes wirft die schweren Lasten, die es drücken, über Bord; Dieses schifft mit voller Ladung durch die wilden Fluthen fort.
RGO homines Deus instituit diversa seqventes,
Mobile semper uti studium et certamen habendi
Curreret, hanc unam properans contingere metam,
Esse sub imperio maiorum audireqve habenas.
Sic operantur apes cogendi mellis amore:
Qvae, duce natura, populo documenta dedere
Regnato, ut parere velint ac legibus uti.
Iura magistratusqve legunt regemqve seqvuntur:
Castigare domi est aliarum et sumere poenas ;
Mercantes aliae peregrina negotia curant ;
Spicula portantes aliae, ceu miles in armis,
Aestatem populantur et aurea germina vastant:
Unde domum praedam referentibus agmine laeto
Itur ad augusti praetoria regis: at ille
Fungitur imperio contemplaturqve canentes
Murorum artifices molirier aurea tecta,
Parte alia cives liqvefacta recondere mella,
Parte alia famulos operantes pondera tergo
Grandia ad angustum certatim advolvere limen:
Contemplatur item praetorem torva tuentem,
Ut saevum mussans fucorum ingloria tradat
Corpora carnifici.
RISTE ratis pelagi medio correpta furore;
Tristius in vitae turbine prensus Amor.
Iacturam facit illa levisqve supervolat undas;
Hic fera sollicitum per freta portat onus.
HEN Evening tinged the lake's ethereal blue,
And her deep shades irregularly threw,
Their shifting sail dropt gently from the cove,
Down by St. Herbert's consecrated grove;
Whence erst the chanted hymn, the tapered rite
Amused the fisher's solitary night;
And still the mitred window, richly wreathed,
A sacred calm through the brown foliage breathed.
The wild deer, starting through the silent glade,
With fearful gaze their various course surveyed:
High hung in air the hoary goat reclined,
His streaming beard the sport of every wind;
And, while the coot her jet-wing loved to lave,
Rocked on the bosom of the sleepless wave,
The eagle rushed from Skiddaw's purple crest,
A cloud still brooding o'er her giant nest.
AID of my love, sweet Genevieve,
In beauty's light you glide along;
Your is like the star of eve,
And sweet your voice as seraph's song:
Yet not your heavenly beauty gives
This heart with passion soft to glow; Within your soul a voice there lives
That bids thee hear the tale of woe. When sinking low the sufferer wan Beholds no hand outstretched to save,
Fair as the bosom of the swan
That rises graceful o'er the wave,
I've seen your breast with pity heave,
And therefore love I thee, sweet Genevieve.
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