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Regnat æternum Deus, et creati
Luce lætatur facieque mundi:
Ejus aspectu tremit icta tellus;
Culmina tangat

Montium, fumant. Ego nomen altum Usque, dum vivam, Domini sonabo; Concinam lætus; Dominoque nostra

Verba placebunt.

At scelestorum male gens peribit,

Finis in terris erit impiorum:

Cor meum, lauda Dominum; perenne

Numen adora,

FROM HENRY VIII.

Farewell, a long farewell, to all my greatness!
This is the state of man: to-day he puts forth
The tender leaves of hope, to-morrow blossoms,
And bears his blushing honours thick upon him
The third day comes a frost, a killing frost;
And when he thinks, good easy man, full surely
His greatness is a-ripening,-nips his root,
And then he falls, as I do. I have ventured,
Like little wanton boys that swim on bladders,
These
many summers in a sea of glory,

But far beyond my depth: my high-blown pride
At length broke under me: and now has left me,
Weary, and old with service, to the mercy
Of a rude stream, that must for ever hide me.
Vain pomp and glory of this world, I hate ye;
I feel my heart new opened: O, how wretched
Is that poor man, that hangs on princes' favours?

THE SAME TRANSLATED.

Βέβηκε τοὐμὸν εὐτυχές, βέβηκέ μοι. θνητοῦ γὰρ ἥδε μοῖρα· πρῶτον ἐλπίδος φύλλ ̓ ἁβρὰ φύσας, δευτέρην καθ' ἡμέραν χρυσαῖσιν αὐγαῖς ἀνθέων πυκάζεται κρύος δὲ δὴ τριταῖον, ὀλέθριον κρύος, ἐπῆλθε· κἀκεῖνος μὲν, εὐήθης ἀνὴρ, πέποιθεν αὑτῷ πλοῦτον ἀκμάζειν· τὸ δὲ ῥίζαν διέφθειρ ̓, εἶτα δ ̓ οἷς ἐγὼ πίτνει. ἐγὼ γὰρ ἐν τόσωνδε περιτροπαῖς θερῶν, παῖς ὡς ἐπ ̓ ἀσκῶν κουφόνους φορούμενος, κλέους ἔπλευσα πέλαγος, οὐδ ̓ ἐφρόντισα μακρὰν προβαίνων ξυμμέτρου βάθους πέρα. διαῤῥαγὲν δ ̓ ὄγκωμ ̓ ὑπέρφρονος τύχης χρόνῳ γεραιόν μ ̓ ἔλιπε καὶ κεκμηκότα, ῥείθρου σαλεύειν ἀγρίου πρὸς ἡδονὴν, ὃ χρὴ καλύψαι τοὐμὸν εἰσαεὶ κάρα. ὡς νῦν κενὸν κόμπασμα καὶ κλέος βροτῶν στυγῶ, διδαχθεὶς ὀψὲ γοῦν τὸ σωφρονεῖν ᾤκτειρα δ ̓, ὅστις βασιλέων θηρᾷ χάριν

There is, betwixt that smile we would aspire to,
That sweet aspect of princes, and their ruin,
More pangs and fears than wars or women have;
And when he falls, he falls like Lucifer,
Never to hope again.-

TRANSLATION FROM THE EDIPUS REX OF SOPHOCLES.

What man is he, whom prophet-tongued Parnassus doth proclaim

The author of the bloody deed, too terrible to name? "Twere time to flee more rapidly than coursers of the

wind,

For on him rushes lightning-arm'd dread Phoebus ;

and behind

Relentless Fates are following! From Delphi's snowy peak

A warning voice hath burst on all, "The hidden one to seek !"

μωρος φίλων γὰρ ὧν ἐρᾷ γελασμάτων τέλος μὲν ἄτη, δειμάτων δ ̓ ἔχει πλέον ἢ πόλεμος ἢ γυναῖκες οὖν μέσῳ χρόνος πεσὼν δ ̓ ἄνελπις, Φωσφόρου δίκην, ἔβη.

THE SAME.

Quem vox sacrorum præscia collium
Infanda dextrâ nunciat impiâ

Patrâsse? Nunc prævertat ille
Alipedem fugiens procellam.

Jam jam corusci fulguris impetu
Illi Tonantis filius insilit

Armatus; et diræ sequuntur
Passibus haud dubiis Sorores.

Clamat nivoso e culmine Delphica
Rupes: Nocentem quærite, quærite :

Nunc antra desertasque rupes

Et tacitæ nemorosa sylvæ,

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