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Now, Lycidas, the shepherds weep no more;
Thus sang the uncouth swain to the oaks and rills,
THE FIFTH ODE OF HORACE, LIB. I.
[“Quis multa gracilis te puer in rosa," rendered almost word for
word without rhyme, according to the Latin measure, as near as
the language will permit.] What slender youth, bedewed with liquid odours, Courts thee on roses in some pleasant cave,
Pyrrha ? For whom bind'st thou
In wreaths thy golden hair,
Rough with black winds and storms
Unwonted shall admire!
Hopes thee, of flattering gales
Unmindful. Hapless they
My dank and dropping weeds
AD PYRRHAM. ODE V.
amore irretitos, affirmat esse miseros.
Grato, Pyrrha, sub antro?
Cui flavam religas comam
Nigris æquora ventis
Emirabitur insolens !
Sperat, nescius auræ
Fallacis. Miseri quibus
THE LONG PARLIAMENT.
And with stiff vows renounced his liturgy,
From them whose sin ye envied, not abhorred,
ye for this adjure the civil sword
Would have been held in high esteem with Paul,
Must now be named and printed heretics
1 The author of the Gangrena (published in 1646), or “a Catalogue and Discovery of many of the errors, heresies, and blasphemies, and pernicious practices of the sectaries of this time, vented and acted in England in these four last years."-Thyer.
Possibly the famous Alexander Henderson, or George Gillespie, a Scotch minister and commissioner at Westminster.-Newton.
But we do hope to find out all your tricks,
That so the Parliament
And succour our just fears, When they shall read this clearly in your charge, New Presbyter is but Old Priest writ large.
i He alludes to Prynne, who had been sentenced to have his ears cropped, and was afterwards sentenced to lose the rest of them.
TO THE NIGHTINGALE.
O NIGHTINGALE, that on yon bloomy spray
Warblest at eve, when all the woods are still, Thou with fresh hope the lover's heart dost fill, While the jolly hours lead on propitious May. Thy liquid notes that close the eye of day,
First heard before the shallow cuckoo's bill,
Have linked that amorous power to thy soft lay, Now timely sing, ere the rude bird of hate
Foretell my hopeless doom in some grove nigh;
As though from year to year hast sung too late For my relief, yet badst no reason why:
Whether the Muse, or Love, call thee his mate, Both them I serve, and of their train am I.
Donna leggiadra il cui bel nomy honora
L'herbosa val di Rheno, e il nobil varco,
Qual tuo spirto gentil non innamora,
La onde l'alta tua virtu s'infiora.
Che mover possa duro alpestre legno,
L'entrata, chi di te si truova indegno;
Grazia sola di su gli vaglia, inanti
Qual in colle aspro, al imbrunir di sera
L'avezza giovinetta pastorella
Che mal si spande a disusata spera
Cosi Amor meco insù la lingua snella
Mentre io di te, vezzosamente altera,
E'l bel Tamigi cangio col bel Arno.
Amor lo volse, ed io a l'altrui peso
Deh! foss' il mio cuor lento e'l duro seno
Ridonsi donne e giovani amorosi
Canzon dirotti, e tu per me rispondi
DIODATI, e te 'l dirò con maraviglia,
Quel ritroso io ch'amor spreggiar soléa