Page images


Silent Love.
YEW the words that I have spoken ;

True love's words are ever few;
Yet by many a speechless token


heart discoursed to you.
Souls, that to each other listen,

Hear the language of a sigh,
Read the silent tears that glisten

In the tender trembling eye.
When your cheek is pale with sadness,

Dimmer grows the light of mine,
And your smiles of sunny gladness

face reflected shine.
Though my speech is faint and broken,

Though my words are ever few,
Yet by many a voiceless token

heart is known to you.

S. A.

True Beauty
EN call you fair,


do credit it,
For that yourself you daily such do see ;

But the true fair, that is the gentle wit And virtuous mind, is much more praised by me. For all the rest, however fair it be,

Shall turn to nought, and lose their glorious hue; But only that is permanent and free

From frail corruption, that doth flesh ensue. That is true beauty, that doth argue you

To be divine, and born of heavenly seed;

Derived from that fair spirit from whom all true
And perfect beauty did at first proceed.

He only fair, and what he fair hath made;
All other fair, like flowers, untimely fade.


Mutus Amor.

Οίδα παρ’ έπη λαλήσας παρέρως λαλείν φιλεϊ
ξυμβόλοις δ' όμως άναυδοις σοι το παν ήνιξάμην.
εν γαρ οίδε φρήν έρωσα τί στόνος λέγειν θέλει
δακρύων τ' άφωνος ομφή μαλθακού δι' όμματος.
σής παράδος ωχριώσης ή τ' έμή μαραίνεται,
σω τ' εμός γέλωτι λαμπρός αντιφέγγεται γέλως.
ώδε δυσκρίτως μόλις τε τάμα σοι φωνών όμως
ξυμβόλοις έρωτάναυδους γνωρίσας απαντ' έχω.


Qvid Pulchrum.

ULCHRAM te memorant homines : tu, Lydia,

credis ;

Monstrat enim talem te tibi qvaeqve dies ; Sed magis illa mihi, qvae vere pulchra putantur,

Indole cum pura mens generosa, placent.
Cetera delebit, qvamvis pulcherrima, tempus ;

Fugerit eximio splendidus ore color.
Illa manent tantum, qvae dempta carne supersunt,

Illa vigent aegra libera sola lue.
Dixeris hanc formam, qva tu divina propago,

Luminis aetherei conspiciare iubar ;
Procreat hanc pulcher, qvi pulchri qvidqvid ubiqve est,

Conditor, exacti causa caputqve boni.
Pulcher is, et si cui pulchro dedit esse : sed, ut flos,

Ante suum pereunt cetera -pulchra diem.



The Progress of Poesy

WAKE, Eolian Lyre, awake,
And give to rapture all thy trembling strings.

From Helicon's harmonious springs
A thousand rills their mazy progress take:
The laughing flowers that round them blow
Drink life and fragrance as they flow.
Now the rich stream of music winds along
Deep, majestic, smooth and strong,
Thro’ verdant vales and Ceres' golden reign :
Now rolling down the steep amain,
Headlong, impetuous, see it pour;
The rocks and nodding groves rebellow to the roar.

O sovereign of the willing soul,
Parent of sweet and solemn-breathing airs,
Enchanting Shell, the sullen Cares
And frantic Passions hear thy soft control.
On Thracia's hills the Lord of War
Has curbed the fury of his car,
And dropped his thirsty lance at thy command :
Perching on the sceptred hand
Of Jove, thy magic lulls the feathered king
With ruffled plumes and flagging wing:
Quenched in dark clouds of slumber lie
The terrors of his beak and lightnings of his eye.

Thee the voice, the dance, obey,
Tempered to thy warbled lay.
O'er Idalia's velvet green

rosy-crowned Loves are seen, On Cytherea's day,


Χρυσέα φόρμιγξ.
EPELLE somnum et dic age

fervidis Dic laeta chordis Aeolium melos, Divina Testudo : canora

Mille fluunt Heliconis arce
Vocalium cum murmure fontium
Rivi meantes, quos

Floresqve pratorum et feraci

Vallis amat decorata risu. Nunc lympha, multo devia tramite, Levi fluento non sine viribus

Lambit virescentes recessus

Et Cereris geniale regnum : Nunc latiori


Secum labantum culmina rupium
Devolvit avulsosqve truncos

Et virides Heliconis umbras.
Salve libentum blanda cupidinum
Regina, victi pectoris arbitra :
Te Luctus exauditqve Cura,

Te placidis inimica ludis
Vindicta lenem fassa potentiam.
Audit cruento dirus ab Ismaro
Gradivus, infrenatqve currus

Et rabiem sitientis hastae :
Audit corusco de solio Iovis
Bellator ales ; mox piceus sopor
Compescit alarum fragorem et

Fulmineos oculi minacis
Condit furores. Te sequitur Chorus,
Utcumqve molli in gramine coetibus
Bacchata per noctem protervis

Idalias Cytherea nymphas

With antic Sports and blue-eyed Pleasures,
Frisking light in frolic measures ;
Now pursuing, now retreating,
Now in circling troops they meet;
To brisk notes in cadence beating
Glance their many-twinkling feet.

Slow melting strains their Queen's approach declare :
Where'er she turns, the Graces homage pay,
With arms sublime, that float upon the air,
In gliding state she wins her easy way :
O’er her warm cheek and rising bosom move
The bloom of young Desire and purple light of Love.


The Random Shot.

(Painted by Sir E. Landseer, R.A.)

HUNTRESS Queen, this pictured meed

The artist hangs within thy shrine,

Memorial of a bitter deed,
Wrought, Artemis, by thee or thine.
From parent teat with eager breath

A fawn requires its wonted food;
The wounded mother, faint in death,

Reddens the mountain snows with blood.
Yet why the piteous sight deplore ?

Nay, goddess, lay thy shafts aside ;
And in the chase delight no more,

Or let those idle tears be dried.

S. A.

« PreviousContinue »