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Have done a drunken slaughter, and defaced
The precious image of our dear Redeemer,
You straight are on your knees for pardon, pardon ;
And I, unjustly too, must grant it you :
But for my brother not a man would speak,
Nor I, ungracious, speak unto myself
For him, poor soul !—The proudest of you all
Have been beholden to him in his life;
Yet not a man would once plead for his life.
O God! I fear, thy justice will take hold
On me, and mine, and

you,
and
yours

for this.

FROM BYRON.

The kiss, dear maid, thy lip has left

Shall never part from mine,
Till happier hours restore the gift

Untainted back to thine.

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ύβριν πάρoινoν ύβρισ, αυτούργο χερι φθείρας θεου Σωτήρος εικαστόν δέμας, προσπίπτετ', αναβοάτε σύγγνοιάν μ' έχειν, κάγω ξυνέγνων, άδικα μεν, πεισθείς δ' όμως. υπέρ δ' αδελφού φθόγγον ουδέν' ήν κλύειν αλλ' ουδ' εν οίκτη προϋθέμην τλήμων εγώ τον οικτρά πάσχοντ'· όστις, όν γ' έζη χρόνον, τοίς εν πόλει πρώτοισιν ήν ευεργετής, ξυνήγορον δ' ουχ εύρε του σώσαι βίον. φεύ, φεύ' μέτεισι δή τις εκ θεού δίκη πράξαντας ημάς ταύτα, πάνθ' ημών γένος.

THE SAME TRANSLATED.

Tuum labellis hæret impressum meis,

Dilecta virgo, basium;
Hærebit usque, donec intactum tibi

Reddat dies felicior.

Thy parting glance, which fondly beams,

An equal love may see; The tear, that from thine eyelid streams,

Can weep no change in me.

I ask no pledge to make me blest

In gazing when alone, Nor one memorial for a breast,

Whose thoughts are all thine own.

Nor need I write; to tell the tale

My pen were doubly weak; Oh ! what can idle words avail,

Unless the heart could speak ?

By day or night, in weal or woe,

That heart, no longer free, Must bear the love it cannot show,

And silent ache for thee.

Abitura vultu me benigno conspicis

Amans amantem non minus ; Caditque ocello lachryma; sed

nunquam, fides Quod nostra mutetur, cadet.

Haud pignus ullum, cujus aspectu fruar

Te solus amissâ, rogo: Haud quærit anima nostra monumentum tui,

Quæ tota de te cogitat.

Scriptisne tecum vis loquamur literis?

At calamus impotens foret. Nam verba quid me juverint inania,

Ni possit ipsum cor loqui ?

Necesse, fato quicquid accidat novi,

Noctes diesque cor meum
Lugere, amorem dum silentio premat,

Frustraque te desideret.

G

PSALM CXXXVII.

1. By the waters of Babylon we sat down and wept, when we remembered thee, O Sion.

2. As for our harps, we hanged them up, upon the trees that are therein.

3. For they that led us away captive required of us then a song, and melody, in our heaviness : Sing us one of the songs of Sion.

4. How shall we sing the Lord's song in a strange land ?

5. If I forget thee, O Jerusalem, let my right hand forget her cunning.

6. If I do not remember thee, let my tongue cleave to the roof of my mouth; yea, if I prefer not Jerusalem in my mirth.

7. Remember the children of Edom, O Lord, in the day of Jerusalem, how they said, Down with it, down with it, even to the ground.

8. O daughter of Babylon, wasted with misery ; yea, happy shall he be that rewardeth thee, as thou hast served us.

9. Blessed be he that taketh thy children, and throweth them against the stones.

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