Et cibum poscit Dominum: sed illi
Mane se condunt latebris; laborans

Perstat humanum genus usque seram ad
Vesperis horam.

Quis tuæ dicat monumenta dextræ,
O Deus, rerum Pater Artifexque
Providens? Tellus operum tuorum
Et mare plenum.

Quis sub undoso numeret profundo
Piscium gentes? Ibi vela celsæ

Explicant naves; ibi

magna volvunt

Corpora cete:

Illa Pastori Tibi fisa ludunt;

Quam paravisti potiuntur escâ;

Tu manum tendas, ea dives implet
Copia manans:

Occulas vultum, capit illa moror;

Spiritum tollas, periere letho:

Cuncta Tu spirans renovas per orbem,

Gignis, et auges.

31. The glorious Majesty of the Lord shall endure for ever: the Lord shall rejoice in his works.

32. The earth shall tremble at the look of him: if he

do but touch the hills, they shall smoke.

33. I will sing unto the Lord as long as I live; I will praise my God while I have my being.

34. And so shall my words please him: my joy shall be in the Lord.

35. As for sinners, they shall be consumed out of the earth, and the ungodly shall come to an end. Praise thou the Lord, O my soul, praise the Lord.

Regnat æternum Deus, et creati
Luce lætatur facieque mundi:
Ejus aspectu tremit icta tellus;
Culmina tangat

Montium, fumant. Ego nomen altum Usque, dum vivam, Domini sonabo; Concinam lætus; Dominoque nostra

Verba placebunt.

At scelestorum male gens peribit,

Finis in terris erit impiorum:

Cor meum, lauda Dominum; perenne

Numen adora.

FROM HENRY VIII.

Farewell, a long farewell, to all my greatness!
This is the state of man: to-day he puts forth
The tender leaves of hope, to-morrow blossoms,
And bears his blushing honours thick upon him;
The third day comes a frost, a killing frost;
And when he thinks, good easy man, full surely
His greatness is a-ripening,-nips his root,
And then he falls, as I do. I have ventured,
Like little wanton boys that swim on bladders,
These many summers in a sea of glory,
But far beyond my depth: my high-blown pride
At length broke under me: and now has left me,
Weary, and old with service, to the mercy

Of a rude stream, that must for ever hide me.
Vain pomp
and glory of this world, I hate ye;
I feel my heart new opened: O, how wretched

Is that poor man, that hangs on princes' favours?

THE SAME TRANSLATED.

Βέβηκε τοὐμὸν εὐτυχές, βέβηκέ μοι. θνητοῦ γὰρ ἥδε μοῖρα· πρῶτον ἐλπίδος φύλλ ̓ ἁβρὰ φύσας, δευτέρην καθ' ἡμέραν χρυσαῖσιν αὐγαῖς ἀνθέων πυκάζεται κρύος δὲ δὴ τριταῖον, ὀλέθριον κρύος, ἐπῆλθε· κἀκεῖνος μὲν, ευήθης ἀνὴρ, πέποιθεν αὑτῷ πλοῦτον ἀκμάζειν· τὸ δὲ ῥίζαν διέφθειρ ̓, εἶτα δ ̓ οἷς ἐγὼ πίτνει. ἐγὼ γὰρ ἐν τόσωνδε περιτροπαῖς θερῶν, παῖς ὡς ἐπ ̓ ἀσκῶν κουφόνους φορούμενος, κλέους ἔπλευσα πέλαγος, οὐδ ̓ ἐφρόντισα μακρὰν προβαίνων ξυμμέτρου βάθους πέρα. διαῤῥαγὲν δ ̓ ὄγκωμ ̓ ὑπέρφρονος τύχης χρόνῳ γεραιόν μ ̓ ἔλιπε καὶ κεκμηκότα, ῥείθρου σαλεύειν ἀγρίου πρὸς ἡδονὴν, ὃ χρὴ καλύψαι τοὐμὸν εἰσαεὶ κάρα. ὡς νῦν κενὸν κόμπασμα καὶ κλέος βροτῶν στυγώ, διδαχθεὶς ὀψὲ γοῦν τὸ σωφρονεῖν ᾤκτειρα δ ̓, ὅστις βασιλέων θηρᾷ χάριν