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What if her eyes were there, they in her head ?
Jul. O Romeo, Romeo! wherefore art thou Romeo ?
ει δ' ήν εκεί μέν όμματ’, έν δ' αυτής κάρα
ΙΟΥΛ. ώ μοι
ΡΩΜ. έφθέγξατ' ώ φθέγξαιο, φαιδιμη, πάλιν
υπερθε γάρ μου τήσδ' άγαλμα νυκτός εί,
πτεροΐσι ναυστολούντα κόλπον αιθέρος. ΙΟΥΛ. ώ Ρωμεων, τί δήτα Ρωμεών έφυς ;
πατέρα τ' αναίνου κώνομ'· ει δε μη θέλεις,
SONG, BY MOORE.
Fond soother of my infant tear,
Fond sharer of my infant joy, Doth not thy shade still linger here?
Am I not still thy soul's employ? And oh, as when at close of day
Our virgins climb'd the sacred mount, And harping sang their choral lay
And danced around Cassotis' fount; As then 'twas all thy wish and care
That mine should be the simplest mien, My voice and lyre the sweetest there,
My step the lightest on the green;
Around my form thine eyes are shed,
. And when I lead the hymning choir,
Thy spirit still unseen and free Hovers between my lip and lyre,
And weds them into harmony.
THE SAME TRANSLATED.
O mihi quæ teneros mulcebas anxia fletus,
Quæ teneri risûs læta sodalis eras, Non umbram hic, dilecta, tuam juvat usque morari ?
Non animæ tibi sum cura superstes ego ? Nam memini, quoties sacri ad fastigia clivi
Sera puellarem duceret hora chorum,
Et canerent socios voce lyrâque modos,
Simplicior vestis ne foret ulla meâ,
qua lyrâ nec voce canens me suavius illic, Ne levior molli planta volaret humo. Nunc etiam, ut veneres fingant mihi quasque decenter, Lumina
formam sunt tua fusa meam, Quemque mihi celeris passûs rectura meatum,
Quemque mihi niveum compositura sinum.
Spiritus aerii numinis instar adest,
Suave melos junctis elicit e numeris.
FROM HENRY VIII.
This cardinal, Though from an humble stock, undoubtedly Was fashion'd to much honour. From his cradle He was a scholar, and a ripe and good one; Exceeding wise, fair spoken, and persuading : Lofty and sour to them that loved him not; But to those men that sought him, sweet as summer. And though he were unsatisfied in getting, (Which was a sin,) yet in bestowing, madam, He was most princely: ever witness for him Those twins of learning, that he raised in you, Ipswich, and Oxford ! one of which fell with him, Unwilling to outlive the good that did it; The other, though unfinish’d, yet so famous, So excellent in art, and still so rising, That Christendom shall ever speak his virtue. His overthrow heap'd happiness upon him; For then, and not till then, he felt himself,