« PreviousContinue »
Contending 'gainst obedience, as they would make
War with mankind.
Old M. 'Tis said they ate each other.
Rosse. They did so; to the amazement of mine eyes,
That look'd upon't.
Up with me! up with me into the clouds,
For thy song, Lark, is strong;
Up with me, up with me into the clouds,
With clouds and sky about thee ringing ;
Lift me, guide me, till I find
That spot which seems so to thy mind!
I have walk'd through wildernesses dreary,
And to-day my heart is weary ;
Had I now the wings of a fairy,
Up to thee would I fly.
There is madness about thee, and joy divine
In that song of thine ;
Lift me, guide me high and high
To thy banqueting-place in the sky.
Mecum scande volans cærula nubium; ,
Magnâ voce canens, usque canens vola!
Duc me, suavis alauda,
Cælum carmine personans,
Dum visam, tibi qui sic placeat, locum.
Jam deserta diu tristia permeo;
Ægrum cor mihi languet :
At si quis mihi coelitům
Pennas indueret, me tibi jungerem.
Nam dulcis furor est cantibus in tuis !
Duc me, duc ubi cælum
Purâ te recreat dape.
Joyous as morning,
Thou art laughing and scorning;
Thou hast a nest for thy love and thy rest;
And though little troubled with sloth,
Drunken lark! thou wouldst be loth
To be such a traveller as I.
Happy, happy liver,
With a soul as strong as a mountain river,
Pouring out praise to the almighty Giver !
Joy and jollity be with us both!
Alas! my journey, rugged and uneven,
Through prickly moors or dusty ways must wind.
But hearing thee, or others of thy kind,
As full of gladness and as free of heaven,
I, with my fate contented, will plod on,
And hope for higher raptures, when life's day
Aurorâ levior, lætior ebrio
Cum risu volitas : sed placidus tibi
Est cum conjuge nidus :
Nolles quas ego prosequi
Errabunda vias, strenua quamlibet. : Felix ! montivago flumine fortior,
Laudes rite canis Deo.
Felices ego sim tuque! Sed asperos
Per dumos mihi, per squalida pulvere
Et spinosa vagandum:
Esto: te tamen audiens,
Te coetusque tuos, par tibi gaudium Sumam, tollam animum liber in æthera ; • Vitæ spe melioris,
Hujus tædia perferam.
Have I a tongue to doom my brother's death,
And shall that tongue give pardon to a slave ?
My brother kill'd no man, his fault was thought;
And yet his punishment was bitter death.
Who sued to me for him ? who, in my wrath,
Kneeld at my feet, and bade me be advised ?
Who spake of brotherhood ? who spake of love ?
Who told me, how the poor soul did forsake
The mighty Warwick, and did fight for me?
Who told me, in the field at Tewkesbury,
When Oxford had me down, he rescued me,
And said, Dear brother, live, and be a king ?
Who told me, when we both lay in the field,
Frozen almost to death, how he did lap me
Even in his garments; and did give himself,
All thin and naked, to the numb-cold night?
All this from my remembrance brutish wrath
Sinfully pluck’d, and not a man of you
Had so much grace to put it in my mind.
But, when your carters, or your waiting-vassals,