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With rough'ning surge seem'd threatening to o'erturn
The wide-tost vessel, not with tearless speech
The mother round her infant gently twined
Her tender arms, and cried, “ Ah me! my child !
What sufferings I endure ! thou sleep'st the while,
Inhaling in thy milky-breathing breast
The balm of slumber ; though imprison'd here
In undelightful dwelling ; brassy-wedged ;
Alone illumed by the stars of night,
And black and dark within. Thou heedest not
The wave that leaps above thee, while its spray
Wets not the locks deep-clustering round thy head;
Nor hear'st the shrill wind's hollow-whispering sounds,
While on thy purple downy mantle stretched,
With count'nance flushed in sleeping loveliness.
Then, if this dreadful peril would to thee
Be dreadful, turn a light unconscious ear
To my lamenting : Sleep! I bid thee sleep,
My infant! oh! may the tremendous surge
Sleep also! May the immeasurable scene
Of watery perils sleep, and be at rest!
And void and prostrate prove this dark device,
I do conjure thee, Jove! and, though my words
May rise to boldness, at thy hand I ask
A righteous vengeance, by this infant's aid."

(From BLACKWOOD's MAGAZINE, 1818.) Around the helpless wandering bark “O lovely Babe ! around thy brow, The gathering tempests howled,

Unharmed the curlets play ; And swelling o'er the ocean dark

Not all the angry blasts that blow The whitening billows rolled.

Can draw one sigh from thee.

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The night-winds howl'd - the billows “ The moon is up, the moonbeams smile dash'd

They tremble on the main ; Against the tossing chest ;

But dark within my floating cell, And Danaë to her broken heart

To me they smile in vain. Her slumbering infant prest.

“ My little child,” in tears she said

“ To wake and weep is mine; But thou canst sleep-thou dost not know

Thy mother's lot, and thine.

« Thy folded mantle wraps thee watm

Thy curling locks are dry;
Thou dost not hear the shrieking gust,

Nor breakers booming high.

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“ Yet thou, didst thou but know thy fate, Yet, dear one, sleep, and sleep, ye winds
Wouldst melt my tears to see ;

That vex the restless brine-
And I, methinks, should weep the less, When shall these eyes, my babe, be seal'd
Wouldst thou but weep with me.

As peacefully as thine !"

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The original is very simple, natural, the character assigned to the poet by
and pathetic - and reads like the Catullus,
fragment of an old Scottish ballad-

“ Mæstius lacrymis Simonideïs,"
reminding us of Lady Bothwell's
Lament. Lord Woodhouselee, in his and at its close we can join in the
elegant Essay on Translation, says,

wish so finely breathed by Words. that Jortin's “ admirable translation

falls short of its original only in a “ O ye who patiently explore
single particular—the measure of the The wreck of Herculanean lore,

One striking beauty of the What rapture, could ye seize
original is, the easy and loose struc Some Theban fragment, or unroll
ture of the verse, which has little One precious tender-hearted scroll
else to distinguish it from animated Of pure Simonides !"
discourse but the harmony of sylla. Jortin's version is indeed very beau.
bles; and hence it has more of na tiful, and not one of our modern
tural impassioned eloquence than is scholars wrote Latin verse with more
conveyed by the regular measure of purity and delicacy than he did, ex-
the translation.” We feel that there cept, perhaps, Vinny Bourne, whom
is truth in that remark; and the Cowper, if we mistake not, preferred
poem is quoted by Dionysius as an to Tibullus. It is very close, yet
apposite example of that species of misses one or two effective touches
composition in

which poetry ap- such as crop smu govor - and the proaches to the freedom of prose. child's little purple cloak. Teque Yet, no doubt, the versification is premunt placidi vincula blanda dei”. constructed according to rule,

is sufficiently classical for a copy of though we, for our own parts, do prize verses at College, but out of not know what it is; and though place and time here, and not at all there are various arrangements of it, Simonidean. to our ear they are all musical. Fragment as it is, and probably in

“ Et vehemens flavos everberat aura capillos," itself imperfect, it is felt to justify is surely not true to the sense of the

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original--for the inside of the chest easily reconcile ourselves to the was lown ; but no more fault-finding change. Danaë, in her peril, speaks with lines which no living scholar like a princess and a poetess beloved could excel or equal. Denman's of Jove; but perhaps there is a slight version is very good, and having tendency, in a line or two of Elton's been for twenty years before the version, towards a swelling wordipublic, it has become part of our ness scarcely natural to such a English Poetry. But it is far from voyager, and somewhatimpairing the faultless. Why “ northern sky?” pathos. We shall not minutely criWhy fastidiously fear to write ticise the version quoted from an “ chest," or some other word, rather early Number of this Magazine; but than mere vessel? Wordsworth was with a few slight defects, occasioned not afraid to speak, in one of his by the difficulties voluntarily encounmost interesting poems on Childhood, tered, and on the whole successfully

overcome, in the choice of a rhymed

stanza, it is, we think, extremely ele“ A washing-tub like one of those

gant and true to nature and Simoni. That women use to wash their clothes

des. Bryant's version is not properly That carried the blind boy."

a version at all, and we suspect he “What woes does Danaë weep" never saw the original ; but 'tis a -is very bad—the Greek how ex- very pretty little poem, and very quisitely touching !-And worse are natural, with the exception of the these two lines

cold conceit in the last two lines of « Thy quiet bosom only knows

the penultimate stanza, which ex

presses a sentiment the very reverse The heavy sigh of deep repose.”

of that which was at poor Danaë's Grown up people breathe hard in heart, and which must be offensive deep sleep; but the breath of Per- to the feelings of any mother. Of seus, in his little purple cloak, we the seven, by far the best, we think, venture to affirm, was inaudible even is that of our esteemed friend, Mr to his mother's ear till she kissed his Hay; nor do we doubt that such will cheek, and what has become of the be the opinion, too, of Mr Merivale cloak The passionate repetition of and the Lord Chief Justice. Mr the same word "sleep," applied to Hay is well known in Edinburgh as wind, sea, and woe, is unaccountably one of our most accomplished class -and it would almost seem pur- sical scholars, and those youths are posely-lost in the version-and with fortunate who enjoy the benefit of it how much is gone! There are his tuition. He has been kind enough other flaws; yet the lines flow to favour us with a few other transsmoothly, and the translator laudably lations, with which we shall adorn aims at a simplicity which he scarce- the second number of this Series. ly attains. Read without reference The true definition of the Greek to the original, they are affecting, Scolium appears to be, a short ode, but with the original in our heart, or lyric composition, made to be they fade before "the tender-hearted sung or recited at banquets. Artescroll of pure Simonides.” Elton's mon of Cassandria, in his second version shews the scholar. The book on the use of these Scolia, as meanings of all those comprehensive we find in the fifteenth book of Athewords, so difficult to the translator, næus, says, they are of three sortsare fully and accurately given; not the first consisted of those songs a thought, a feeling, or an image is which were sung by all the guests omitted ; the emphasis is always laid together, joining as in chorus; the on the right place; his heart and im- second as sung by the guests, not agination are with the Danaë of Simo- together, but in regular succession; nides. Blank verse is capable of any the third, as sung only by particular thing, and bis blank verse is good; persons who were skilled in music, yet with the simple sweet words of wherever placed at the table; and the free-flowing Greek strain, “all from these last being seated out of impulses of soul and sense" still the common order, the songs were lingering with us, we feel for a while termed oxohist, from ousados, crooked, as if there were something heavy and or being sung by every man in cumbrous in the measure, and cannot his own place. The examples given

in Athenæus consist of short sen- fuerit in poesi neque ipso Pindaro tences, either addressed to some god, minor," &c. Its authenticity is conor containing some moral advice firmed by the story related by Dioconducive to the prosperity of hu- genes Laertius, that the philosopher man life. From the subject of the underwent an accusation on the Scolia, the conversation turns on charge of impiety, for composing Aristotle's poem to Virtue, which it and daily reciting a hymn or poem is contended is improperly called by in honour of his patron, Hermias, that name, as not being composed in tyrant of Atarnæ, a eunuch, and honour of any deity, nor having the originally a slave. There is an alluusual burtben of “ Io Pæan.” Some sion in one line to Memnon, who, part of it is rather obscure; but it so under the mask of friendship, bepleased Julius Cæsar Scaliger, that trayed Hermias, and was the cause of he accounted Aristotle as great a poet his death. We have not room for as Pindar, -" quantus vir Aristoteles the Greek.



Oh Virtue, excessively-laborious to the human race,
Noblest object-of-pursuit in the life (of man),
For thy beauty, oh Virgin,
Even to die is in Greece a lot to-be-envied,
And to endure labours fiery, unwearied:
Such love dost thou infuse into the mind,
And fruit immortal dost thou produce,
Than gold more excellent, than (the pride of) ancestry,
And than pain-alleviating sleep.
For thy sake Hercules, the son of Jupiter,
And the sons of Leda, endured much,
By their deeds announcing thy power;
From a longing for thee did Achilles
And Ajax visit the mansion of Pluto;
Under the semblance of friendship, for thy sake,
Did the alumnus of Atarneus (Hermeas)
Deprive himself of the light of the sun.
Him therefore, by his deeds, song-celebrated
And immortal, shall exalt the Muses
The daughters of Muemosyne,-
Increasing the veneration for Jupiter Hospitalis,
And the reward of firm friendship.

O sought with toil and mortal strife,

By those of human birth,
Virtue, thou noblest end of life,

Thou goodliest gain on earth!
Thee, Maid, to win, our youth would

Unwearied, fiery pains; and dare

Death for thy beauty's worth ;
So bright thy proffer'd honours shine,
Like clusters of a fruit divine.

Sweeter than slumber's boasted joys,

And more desired than gold,
Dearer than nature's dearest ties :-

For thee those heroes old,
Herculean son of highest Jove,
And the twin-birth of Leda, strove

By perils manifold :
Pelides' son with like desire,
And Ajax, sought the Stygian fire.-R.

The bard shall crown with lasting bay,

And age immortal make
Atarna's sovereign, 'reft of day

For thy dear beauty's sake :
Him therefore the recording Nine
In songs extol to heights divine,

And every chord awake;
Promoting still, with reverence due,
The meed of friendship, tried and true. --R.

But have we forgot Sappho, Soul and all hallowed by genius. Ovid of Fire and Daughter of the Sun ? calls her brown and of short sta. Anacreon never kissed her burning ture; so Shakspeare says was Ce. lips, for those two Minnesingers were lia, in “ As You Like It;" but both not coeral; but Alcæus, we trust, were beautiful; and only think for often did so, and, as he drunk their a moment of dew, lost all remembrance of his

- The soul, the music breathing from shield, not well left behind on the field of battle. Phaon was fickle,

that face !" and she dared the cliff. Sappho, we Let us look at her two famous dare say, was no virgin; but her Odes. loves were not numerous ;-intense,


αίψα δ' εξίκοντο' το δ' ώ μάκαιρα,
μειδιάσασ αθανάτω προσώπω,
ήρε ο ττι ήν το πέπονθα, και ο ττι

δή σε κάλημι,

Ποικιλόθρον, αθάνατ'Αφροδίτα, παί Διός, δολοπλόκε, λίσσομαί σε, μη μ' άσαισι, μηδ' ανίαισι δάμνα,

πότνια, θύμων. αλλά τυΐδ' έλθ', αί πoκα κάτιρώτα τάς εμάς αυδάς αίουσα πολλα έκλνες, πατρός δε δόμον λιποϊσα,

κρύστον ήλθες άρμυποζεύξασα, κάλοι δε σ' αγαν ωκέες στρουθοι, περί γάς μελαίνας πύκνα δινύντες πτέρ' απ' ώρανώ αιθέ

ρος δια μέσσω

κ' ο ττι εμώ μάλιστ' εθέλω γενέσθαι
μαινόλα θύμω, τίνα δ' αύτε πείθη-
μι σαγήνισσαν φιλότατα τις Σαπ-

φοί, αδικεί σε;
και γαρ αι φεύγει, ταχέως διώξει
αι δε δώρα μη δέκατ', αλλά δώσει
αι δε μη φιλεϊ, ταχέως φιλάσει,

ή ού κιν έθέλλοις.

άλθ' εμοί και νύν, χαλιπών δε λύσον
εκ μεριμνών, όσσα δ' εμοί τελέσσαι
θύμος Ιμέρρει, τέλεσον το δ' αυτά

σύμμαχος έσσο.



Splendidly-enthroned, immortal Venus,
Daughter of Jupiter, intrigue-contriver, thee I supplicate,
Do not with loathing-anxiety and vexation overwhelm,

Oh august one, my soul.

But hither come, if at any time and elsewhere
Hearing my prayers, thou often didst
Listen to them, and leaving thy father's mansion,

Thou camest, thy golden

Chariot having-yoked: and thee did bear-along thy beautiful
Swift sparrows, above the dark earth
Oft waving their wings,-from heaven

Through mid-air

Quickly they came : and thou, oh blessed one!
Smiling with thine immortal countenance,
Didst ask what indeed it were that I suffer'd, and why

I invoked thee,

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