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used by the sneer, he rais'd the bowl; And Mora's eve could Allan move,
• W ould Oscar now could share our She bade his wounded pride rebel:

Alas! that eyes, which beam'd with love, Lernal fear appallid his soul,

Should urge the soul to deeds of Hell. He said, and dash'd the cup to earth.

Lo! seest thou not a lonely tomb, Tis he! I hear my murderer's voice," Which rises o'er a warrior dead ! Loud shrieks a darkly gleaming Form; It glimmers through the twilight gloom;

inurderer's voice !" the roof replies, Oh! that is Allan's nuptial bed. And deeply swells the bursting storm.

Far, distant far, the noble grave, he tapers wink, the chieftains shrink, Which held his clan's great ashes, stood; The stranger's gone,- amidst the crew | And o'er his corse no banners wave, Form was seen, in tartan green,

For they were stain'd with kindred blood. And tall the shade terrific grew.

What minstrel gray, what hoary bard, lis waist was bound with a broad belt round, Shall Allan's deeds on harp-strings raise ?

Ilis plume of sable stream'd on high; The song is glory's chief reward, lut his breast was bare, with the red But who can strike a murderer's praise?

wounds there, And fix'd was the glare of his glassy eye. Unstrung, untouch'd, the harp must stand,

No minstrel dare the theme awake; Ind thrice he smiled, with his eye so wild, Guilt would benumb his palsied hand, On Angus, bending low the knee;

His harp in shuddering chords would Ind thrice he frown'd on a Chief on the

break. ground, Whom shivering crowds with horror see. No lyre of fame, no hallow'd verse,

Shall sound his glories high in air, The bolts loud roll, from pole to pole, A dying father's bitter curse,

The thunders through the welkin ring; A brother's death-groan echoes thero. And the gleaming Form, through the mist

of the storm, Was borne on high by the whirlwind's wing.

TO THE DUKE OF DORSET.

In looking over my papers, to select a few adCold was the feast, the revel ceased; ditional Poems for the second edition, I found Who lies upon the stony floor ?

the following lines, which I had totally for

gotten, composed in the Summer of 1805, a short Oblivion prest old Angus breast,

time previous to my departure from Harrow. At length his life-pulse throbs once more.

of high rank, who had been my frequent compa“Away, away, let the leech essay,

nion in some rambles through the neighbouring

country; however, he never saw the lines, and To pour the light on Allan's eyes;" most probably never will. As, on a reperusal, His sand is done, - his race is run,

I found them not worse than some other pieces Oh! never more shall Allan rise!

in the collection, I have now published them,

for the first time, after a slight revision. But Oscar's breast is cold as clay,

Dorset! whose early steps with mine have His locks are lifted by the gale,

stray'd, And Allan's barbed arrow lay,

Exploring every path of Ida's glade, With him in dark Glentanar's vale. Whom, still, affection taught me to defend,

And made me less a tyrant than a friend; And whence the dreadful stranger came, Though the harsh custom of our youthful Or who, no mortal wight can tell;

band But no one doubts the Form of Flame, Bade thee obey, and gave me to command For Alva's sons knew Oscar well. Thee, on whose head a few short years will

shower Ambition nerved young Allan's hand, The gift of riches, and the pride of power;

Exulting demons wing'd his dart, Even now a name illustrious is thine own, While Envy waved her burning brand, Renown'd in rank,not far beneath the throne. And pour'd her venom round his heart. Yet, Dorset, let not this seduce thy soul,

To shun fair science, or evade control; Swift is the shaft from Allan's bow: Though passive tutors, fearful to dispraise Whose streaming life-blood stains his The titled child, whose future breath may side?

raise, Dark Oscar's sable crest is low,

View ducal errors with indulgent eyes, The dart has drunk his vital tide. | And wink at faults they tremble to chastiso.

They were addressed to a young school-fellow

day,

When youthful parasites, who bend the Spurn every vice, each little meanness shin,

knee

Not Fortune's minion, but her noblest son To wealth, their golden idol,- not to thee! Turn to the annals of a former day, And, even in simple boyhood's opening dawn, Bright are the deeds thine earlier Sire Some slaves are found to flatter and to fawn:

display; When these declare, “that pomp alone One, though a Courtier, lived a man of worth,

should wait And call'd, proud boast! the British Drama On one by birth predestined to be great;

forth. That books were only meant for drudging Another view! not less renown'd for Wit.

fools,

| Alike for courts, and camps, or senates ft That gallant spirits scorn the common rules;" Bold in the field, and favour'd by the Nine, Believe them not,—they point the path to In every splendid part ordain'd to shine;

shame,

Far, far distinguish'd from the glittering And seek to blast the honours of thy name:

throng, Turn to the few, in Ida's early throng, The pride of Princes, and the boast of Song Whose souls disdain not to condemn the | Such were thy Fathers, thus preserve their wrong;

name, Or, if amidst the comrades of thy youth, Not heir to titles only, but to Fame. None dare to raise the sterner voice of truth, The hour draws nigh, a few brief dan Ask thine own heart! 'twill bid thee, boy,

will close, forbear,

To me, this little scene of joys and Fees: For well I know that virtue lingers there. Each knell of Time now warns me to resin

Shades, where Hope, Peace and Friendship

all were mine; Yes! I have mark'd thee many a passing Hope,that could vary like the rainbow's bue,

And gild their pinions, as the momentsfles; But now new scenes invite me far away; Peace, that reflection never frown'd avar, Yes! I have mark'd, within that generous By dreams of ill, to cloud some future day;

mind,

Friendship, whose truth let childhood only A soul, if well matured, to bless mankind;

tell, Ah! though myself by nature haughty,wild, Alas! they love not long, who love so vell. Whom Indiscretion bail'd her favourite To these adieu! nor let me linger o'er

child ;

Scenes hail'd,as exiles hail their nativeshore, Though every error stamps me for her own, Receding slowly through the dark blue deep, And dooms my fall, I fain would fall alone; Beheld by eyes that mourn, yet cannot weep Though my proud heart no precept now

can tame, I love the virtues which I cannot claiin. Dorset! farewell! I will not ask one part 'Tis not enough, with other Sons of power, of sad remenbrance in so young a heart; To gleam the lambent meteor of an hour, | The coming morrow from thy youthfalmind, To swell some peerage-page in feeble pride, Will sweep my name, nor leave a trace With long-drawn names, that grace no

behind. page beside; And yet, perhaps, in some maturer year, Then share with titled crowds the common Since chance has thrown us in the self lot,

same sphere, In life just gazed at, in the grave forgot; Since the same senate, nay, the same debate, While nought divides thee from the vulgar May one day claim our suffrage for the state,

dead,

We hence may meet, and pass each other by Except the dull cold stone that hides thy With faint regard, or cold and distant eye

head,

For me, in future, neither friend or foe, The mouldering 'scutcheon, or the Herald's A stranger to thyself, thy Weal or woe;

roll,

With thee no more again I hope to trace That well-emblazon'd, but neglected scroll, | The recollection of our early race ; Where Lords, unhonour'd, in the tomb may No more, as once, in social hours, rejoice,

find.

Or hear, unless in crowds, thy well-known One spot to leave a worthless name behind;

voice, There sleep, unnoticed as the gloomy vaults Still, if the wishes of a heart untaught That veil their dust, their follies, and To veil those feelings, which perchance, their faults;

it ought; A race, with old armorial lists o'erspread, If these, - but let me cease the lengthend In records destined never to be read.

strain, Fain would I view thee, with prophetic eyes, Oh! if these wishes are not breathed in rais, Exalted more annong the good and wise; The Guardian Seraph, who directs thy fate. A glorious and a long career pursue, Will leave thee glorious, as he found thee As first in Rank, the first in Talent ton;

great,

TRANSLATIONS AND IMITATIONS.

RIAN'S ADDRESS TO HIS SOUL, TRANSLATION FROM CATULLUS.
WHEN DYING.

LUCTUS DE MORTE PASSERIS.
ANIMULA! vagula, blandula,
Hospcs comesque corporis,

Yo Cupids, droop each little head,
Quæ nunc abibis in loca?

Nor let your wings with joy be spread;
Pallidula, rigida, nudula,

My Lesbia's favourite bird is dead,
Nec, ut soles, dabis jocos.

Whom dearer than her eyes she loved ;

For he was gentle, and so true, ! gentle, fleeting, wavering Sprite,

| Obedient to her call he flew, fiend and associate of this clay!

No fear, no wild alarm he knew, To what unknown region borne,

But lightly o'er her bosom moved : ilt thou now wing thy distant flight?

| And softly fluttering here and there, more, with wonted humour gay,

He never sought to cleave the air; But pallid, cheerless, and forlorn.

But chirrup'd oft, and free from care,

Tuned to her ear his grateful strain. Now having pass'd the gloomy bourn,

From whence he never can return, TRANSLATION FROM CATULLUS. His death, and Lesbia's grief, I mourn,

Who sighs, alas! but sighs in vain. AD LESBIAM.

Oh! curst be thon, devouring grave!

Whose jaws eternal victims crave, QUAL to Jove that youth must be, From whom no earthly power can save, reater than Jove, he seems to me,

For thou hast ta'en the bird away: Tho, free from Jealousy’s alarms,

From thee, my Lesbia's eyes o’erflow. ecurely views thy matchless charms; Her swollen cheeks with weeping glow, 'hat cheek, which ever dimpling glows,

| Thou art the cause of all her woe, hat mouth from whence such music flows, Receptacle of life's decay. 'o him, alike, are always known, leserved for him, and him alone. ih! Lesbia! though 'tis death to me, cannot choose but look on thee;

IMITATED FROM CATULLUS. lut, at the sight, my senses fly; needs must gaze, but gazing die;

TO ELLEN. Vhilst trembling with a thousand fears, 'arch'd to the throat, my tongue adheres, On! might I kiss those eyes of fire, ly pulse beats quick, my breath heaves A million scarce would quench desire ;

short,

Still, would I steep my lips in bliss, ly limbs deny their slight support;

And dwell an age on every kiss; old dews my pallid face o'erspread,

Nor then my soul should sated be, With deadly languor droops my head, Still would I kiss and cling to thee: ly ears with tingling echoes ring,

Nought should my kiss from thine dissever, Ind life itself is on the wing;

Still would we kiss, and kiss for ever; My eyes refuse the cheering light,

E'en though the number did exceed Their orbs are veil'd in starless night;

The yellow harvest's countless seed; jach pangs my nature sinks beneath,

To part would be a vain endeavour, Ind feels a temporary death.

Could I desist?-ah! never-never,

TRANSLATION OF THE EPITAPH ON

TRANSLATION FROM ANACREON.
VIRGIL AND TIBULLUS.
BY DOMITIUS MARSUS.

TO HIS LYRB.
He who, sublime, in Epic numbers rollid, I wiun to tune my quivering lyre,

And he who struck the softer lyre of love, To deeds of fame, and notes of fire;
By Death's unequal hand alike controllid, To echo from its rising swell,
Fit comrades in Elysian regions move. How heroes fought, and nations fell;

When Atreus' sons advanced to war,

Or Tyrlan Cadmus roved afar;

| He cried, "if this its strength has lost; But, still, to martial strains unknown, I fear, relax'd with midnight-dews, My lyre recurs to love alone.

The strings their former aid refuse. ** Fired with the hope of future fame,

With poison tipt, his arrow flies, I seek some nobler hero's name;

Deep in my tortured heart it lies: The dying chords are strung anew, Then loud the joyous urchin laugh'd, To war, to war my harp is due;

“My bow can still impel the shaft, With glowing strings the epic strain 'Tis firmly fix'd, thy sighs reveal it ; To Jove's great son I raise again;

Say, courteous host, canst thou not feel it! Alcides and his glorious deeds, Beneath whose arm the Hydra bleeds; All, all in vain, my wayward lyre

FRAGMENTS OF SCHOOL EXERCISES Wakes silver-notes of soft desire. Adieu ! ye chiefs renown'd in arms! FROM THE PROMETHEUS VINCTUS OP ESCHILD Adieu ! the clang of war's alarms. To other deeds iny soul is strung,

GREAT Jove! to whose Almighty throne

Both Gods and mortals humage pay, And sweeter notes shall now be sung;

Ne'er may my soul thy power disowe, My harp shall all its powers reveal,

Thy dread behests ne'er disobey. To tell the tale my heart must feel;

Oft shall the sacred victim fall Love, love alone, my lyre shall claim,

In sea-girt Ocean's mossy hall;
In songs of bliss, and sighs of flame.

My voice shall raise no impious strain
l'Gainst him who rules the sky and azn

main.
ODE IU.

How different now thy joyless fate,

Since first Hesione thy bride, 'Twas now the hour, when Night had driven

| When placed aloft in godlike state, Her car half round yon sable heaven;

The blushing beauty by thy side, Bootes, only, seein'd to roll

Thou sat'st, while reverend Ocean silni, His Arctic charge around the Pole;

And mirthful strains the hours beguild; While mortals, lost in gentle sleep,

| The Nymphs and Tritons danced around Forgot to smile, or ceased to weep; At this lone hour thc Paphian boy,

Nor yet thy doom was fix'd, nor Jove r

lentless frowni Descending from the realms of joy, Quick to my gate directs his course,

Harrow, Dec. 1, 1504 And knocks with all his little force; My visions fled, alarm'd I rose; “What stranger breaks my blest repose ?"

THE EPISODE OF NISUS AND “Alas !” replies the wily child,

EURYALUS. In faultering accents, sweetly mild;

A PARAPHRASE FROM THE ENEID, LIE. 9 “A hapless infant here I roam, Far from my dear maternal home;

N18U8, the guardian of the portal, stood. Oh! shield me from the wintery blast, Eager to gild his arms with hostile blood The mighty storm is pouring fast;

Well skill'd in fight, the quivering lance No prowling robber lingers here;

to wield, A wandering baby, who can fear ?" | Or pour his arrows through th' embattled I heard his seeming artless tale,

field; I heard his sighs upon the gale;

From Ida torn, he left his sylvan cave, My breast was never pity's foe,

And sought a foreign home, a distant grave; But felt for all the baby's woe;

To watch the movements of the Dannian I drew the bar, and by the light,

host, Young Love, the infant, met my sight; With him, Earyalus sustains the post : His bow across his shoulders flung,

No lovelier mien adorn'd the ranks of Tros And thence his fatal quiver hung.

And beardless bloom yet graced the gallani (Ah! little did I think the dart

boy; Would rankle soon within my heart;) Though few the seasons of his youthful life. With care I tend my weary guest,

As yet a novice in the martial strife, His little fingers chill my breast;

'Twas his with beauty valour's gift to share. His glossy curls, his azure wing,

A soul heroic, as his form was fair; Which droop with nightly showers. I wring; These burn with one pure flame of generous His shivering limbs the embers warm,

love, And now, reviving from the storm, | In peace, in war, united still they move; Scarce had he felt his wonted glow, Friendship and glory form their joint reward. Than swift he seized his slender bow: And now combined they hold the nighdy "I fain would know, my gentle host,"

guard.

“What God!” exclaim'd the first, "instils Or wealth redeem from foes my captive corsee

this fire ?

Or, if my destiny these last deny, r, in itself a God, what great desire? If in the spoiler's power my ashes lie, y labouring soul, with anxious thought Thy pious care may raise a simple tomb,

opprest,

| To mark thy love, and signalize iny doom. bhors this station of inglorious rest: Why should thy doating wretched mother he love of fame with this can ill accord,

weep e't mine to seek for glory with my sword. Her only boy, reclined in endless sleep? est thou yon camp, with torches twink Who, for thy sake, the tempest's fury dared,

ling dim,

Who,for thy sake, war's deadly peril shared; There drunken slumbers wrap each lazy | Who braved what woman never braved limb?

before, here confidence and ease the watch disdain, And left her native for the Latian shore." nd drowsy Silence holds her sable reign? “In vain you damp the ardour of my soul,” hen hear my thought :-In deep and sullen Replied Euryalus, “it scorns control;

grief,

Hence, let us haste,” – their brotherur troops and leaders mourn their absent

guards arose, chief;

Roused by their call, nor court again reposez ow could the gifts and promised prize be The pair,buoy'd up on Hope's exulting wing,

thine

Their stations leave, and speed to seek the The deed, the danger and the fame be mine);

king. Tere this decreed; beneath yon rising Now, o'er the earth a solemn stillness ran,

mound,

| And lull'd alike the cares of brute and man; ethinks,an easy path perchance were found, Save where the Dardan leaders nightly hold hich past, I speed my way to Pallas'walls, Alternate converse, and their plans unfold; nd lead Æneas from Evander's halls." On one great point the council are agreed, Tith equal ardour fired, and warlike joy, An instant message to their prince decreed; is glowing friend address:d the Dardan boy: Each lean'd upon the lance he well could These deeds, my Nisus, shalt thou dare

wield, alone?

And poised, with easy arm, his ancient shield; last all the fame, the peril be thine own? When Nisus and his friend their leave request nd I by thee despised, and left afar, To offer something to their high behest. & one unfit to share the toils of war? With anxious tremors, yet unawed by fear, ot thus his son the great Opheltes taught, The faithful pair before the throne appear ; ot thus my sire in Argive combats fought; lulus greets them; at his kind command, ot thus, when Nion fell, by heavenly hate, The elder first address’d the hoary band. track'd Æneas through the walls of fate; 'hou knowst my deeds, my breast devoid

of fear,

“With patience," thus Hyrtacides began, nd hostile life-drops dim my gory spear; “Attend, nor judge from youth, our humble lere is a soul with hope immortal burns

plan; nd life, ignoble life, for Glory spurns; Where yonder beacons, half-expiring, beam, ame, fame is cheaply earn'd by fleeting | Our slumbering foes of future conquest

dream, 'he price of honour is the sleep of death." Nor heed that we a secret path have traced, 'hen Nisus_“Calm thy bosom's fond alarms, Between the ocean and the portal placed : Thy heart beats fiercely to the din of arms; Beneath the covert of the blackening smoke, lore dear thy worth and valour than my own, Whose shade securely our design will cloak. swear by him who fills Olympus' throne! If you, ye Chiefs, and Fortune will allow, o may I triumph, as I speak the truth, We'll bend our course to yonder mounnd clasp again the comrade of my youth.

tain's brow; ut should I fall, and he who dares advance Where Pallas' walls, at distance, meet the 'hrough hostile legions must abide by

sight, chance;

Seen o'er the glade, when not obscured by | gome Rutulian arm, with adverse blow,

night; hould lay the friend who ever loved thee Then shall Æneas in his pride return,

low;

While hostile matrons raise their offsprings' ive thou, such beauties I would fain pre

urn, serve,

| And Latian spoils, and purpled heaps of dead, 'hy budding years a lengthened term Shall mark the havoc of our hero's tread;

deserve;

Such is our purpose, not unknown the way, Vhen humbled in the dust, let some one be, Where yonder torrent's devious waters stray: Vhose gentle eyes will shed one tear for me; Oft have we seen, when hunting by the Vhose manly arm may snatch me back by

stream, force,

| The distant spires above the valleys gleam."

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