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δεύτερον ἀλλήλοις συνεκύρσαμεν, ἵστατο δ ̓ ἐγγὺς ἠθέου καλὴν ὄψιν ἔχουσα κόρη,

τὴν βλέπε μειδιόων, ψιθύριζε δὲ μείλιχ ̓ ἐν ὠσὶν, οἷα ποτὲ γλυκερῶς ἐψιθύριζεν ἐμοί·

ἀνδρὸς δ ̓ οὐκ ἀέκουσα βραχίονος εἴχετο κούρη φεῦ, φεῦ· πρὶν ἐμὸς ἦν οὗτος, ἐμός γε μόνης καὶ τότ' ἀπ ̓ ὀφθαλμῶν δάκρυ μοι ῥέεν· ἦν γὰρ ἔρημος, ἦν ἀθλίη, λυγρῆς εἵνεκ ̓ ἀτασθαλίης.

τὼ ζεύξει μακάριστος Ὕμην, ὁ δὲ τὴν ἐπὶ βῶμον χειρὸς ἄγων φιλίης ὅρκια πιστὰ τεμεῖ,

ἀϊδίου φιλίης, τῆς οὐ θέμις ἐστ ̓ ἀπολαῦσαι

ψεύδορκον νύμφην ἣ φίλον ἄνδρα προδῷ·

εἰμὶ δ ̓ ἐγὼ φαιδρωπὸς ἰδεῖν· τὰ γὰρ ἄλγεα κρύπτω. μῆτερ ἐμὴ κάκοφρον, σή μ' ἀπόλεσσε τέχνη.

SONG, BY MOORE.

When he who adores thee has left but the name

Of his fault and his sorrows behind,

Oh say, wilt thou weep, when they darken the fame Of a life that for thee was resign'd?

Yes, weep;

and however my foes may condemn,

Thy tears shall efface the decree :

For heaven can witness, though guilty to them,

I have been but too faithful to thee.

With thee were the dreams of my earliest love;
Every thought of my reason was thine :
In the last humble prayer to the Spirit above,
Thy name shall be mingled with mine.

Oh, blest are the lovers and friends who shall live The days of thy glory to see:

But the next dearest blessing that Heaven can give Is the pride of thus dying for thee.

THE SAME TRANSLATED.

Cum sceleris titulos et fati præter acerbi
Nil tibi de fido cive superstes erit,

Tune dabis lachrymas, quod me convicia lædant,
Qui tibi do vitam, terra paterna, meam ?

Sis tu flere memor! tunc, si maledixerit hostis,
Delebunt lachrymæ tristia probra tuæ :

Testor enim cœlum ; quanquam illi justa querela est,
Te nimiâ tantum dicar amâsse fide.

Prima mihi puero arrisit tua dulcis imago,
Unica tu mentis cura virilis eras:

Et Domino moriens cum verba precantia fundam,
Juncta meum nomen vota tuumque ferent.

Felix, quisquis erit tibi sospes amicus, Ierne,
Promissum fatis cum feret hora decus:

Carus at hic coelo, vix illi sorte secundus,
Cui licuit pro te sic statuisse mori.

FROM ROMEO AND JULIET.

Rom. He jests at scars, that never felt a wound— But soft! what light from yonder window breaks? It is the east, and Juliet is the sun!—

Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon,

Who is already sick and pale with grief,

That thou her maid art far more fair than she:

Be not her maid, since she is envious;

Her vestal livery is but sick and green,

And none but fools do wear it: cast it off.

It is my lady; Oh, it is my love!

Oh that she knew she were!

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She speaks, yet she says nothing; What of that?
Her eye discourses; I will answer it.

I am too bold; 'tis not to me she speaks:
Two of the fairest stars in all the heaven,
Having some business, do intreat her eyes
To twinkle in their spheres, till they return.

THE SAME TRANSLATED.

This Translation obtained the Porson Prize. Some alterations have since been made.

ῬΩΜ. Οὐλαῖς γελᾷ τις τραυμάτων ἄπειρος ὤν. τί δῆτ ̓ ἐκείνης θυρίδος ἐξέλαμψε φως; ἕως ἄρ ̓ ἦν τόδ', ἥλιος δ ̓ Ἰουλία. ἀνέλθε, καλλιφεγγὲς ἥλιε, κτενῶν φθονερὰν σελήνην, ἣ τέτηκεν ἄλγεσι, σοῦ τῆς γε δούλης καλλονῇ νικωμένη. τί τῇ φθονούσῃ λάτρις εἶ; τί σοι μέλει ἔσθημα παρθένειον; ὡς μελαγχολεί, μωραί τε νιν φοροῦσι· σοὶ δ ̓ ἐκδυτέα. δέσποιν' ἐμὴ πέφηνε, καρδίας ἐμῆς τὰ φίλταθ'· ὡς γὰρ εἰδέναι τόδ ̓ ὤφελε. φωνεῖ τι, φωνεῖ· κοὐδὲν εἶφ ̓ ὅμως τί μήν; ἴσσων με σαίνει φθέγμα τοῦτ ̓ ἀμείψομαι. ἄγαν γ' ἀναιδής εἰμ'· ἔμ ̓ οὐ προσεννέπει ἀλλ ̓ ἀστέρ ̓ ἀσχολοῦντε καλλίστω τινε λίσσεσθον αὐτῆς ὄμματ ̓, ἔστε δὴ πάλιν ἱκνῆσθον, ἐν τοῖς οἶσιν αὐγάζειν κύκλοις.

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