PRECEPTS OF ANCIENT GREECE. Forget the past, nor more false judgments Turn from your ways betimes-oh, turn and live. Who, full of wiles, his neighbor's harm con- False to himself, against himself he strives; ESIOD is generally believed to have lived about the eighth century before Christ, and to have been nearly contemporaneous with Homer. Some, however, assign a different period to both; but the weight of evidence preponderates in favor of the period mentioned above. He was born at Ascra, in Bootia, Greece, but left his native place in disgust, on account of loss of patrimony through a connivance of his brother with unjust judges. He was the founder of the Boeotian, or Pie- Open the guilty bosom all within, rian, school of poets, who stand in contrast to And trace the infant thoughts of future sin. the Ionic, or Homeric, school, being considered in advance of those in civilization and morality. SELECTIONS FROM WORKS AND DAYS. Justice, unspotted maid, derived from Jove, Can, when he will, the heart of man disclose; Oh, when I hear the upright man complain, When judges hear the bribe, and not the Trust to the will of Jove, and wait the end, cause, Close by her parent god behold her stand, And urge the punishment their sins demand. And good shall always your good acts attend. These doctrines, Perses, treasure in thy heart, Look in your breasts, and there survey your And never from the paths of justice part; crimes! Think, O ye judges, and reform betimes, Never by brutal violence be sway'd, In these the brute creation men exceed : awe Justice, of nature well ordained the law. Oh, Perses, foolish Perses, bow thine ear Fair is the future, and the prospect plain. Wisely considering, to himself a friend, All for the present best, and for the end. Nor is the man without his share of praise Who well the dictates of the wise obeys; But he that is not wise himself, nor can Hearken to wisdom, is a useless man. Ever observe, Perses, of birth divine, store. The slothful wretch who lives from labor free, Like drones, the robbers of the painful bee, Has always men and gods alike his foes; To care and labor think it no disgrace, Shall gaze with envy on thy growing store: Strictly observe the wholesome rules I give. And, blessed in all, thou like a god shalt live. Ne'er to thy neighbor's goods extend thy cares, Nor be neglectful of thine own affairs. store. But ravish not, depending on thy might, trays The gods, all-seeing, shall o'ercloud his days; His wife, his children and his friends shall die, And like a dream his ill-got riches fly; Or when the father's fatal day appears, Who ravishes another's right shall find, His body bending through the weight of Though small the prey, a deadly sting behind years, A son who views him with unduteous eyes, No friend forget, nor entertain thy foe, Nor let thy neighbor uninvited go. Content, and honestly, enjoy your lot, The just reward of our industrious hands- Happy the man-with peace his days are To dread not Famine, with her aspect dire! crowned Whose house an honest neighborhood surround; Of foreign harms he never sleeps afraid : They, always ready, bring their willing aid; Cheerful, should he some busy pressure feel, They lend an aid beyond a kindred's zeal; They never will conspire to blast his fame; Secure he walks, unsullied his good name. Unhappy man whom neighbors ill surround! His oxen die oft by a treach'rous wound. Whate'er you borrow of your neighbor's store, Return the same in weight-if able, more; To all a love for love return; contend Be these thy thoughts, to these thy heart incline, And, lo! these blessings shall be surely thine. Let not a woman steal heart away your By tender looks and her apparel gay; If love she vows, 'tis madness to believe; Turn from the thief: she charms but to de ceive; Who does too rashly in a woman trust crease; Then shall a duteous careful heir survive To keep the honor of the house alive. If large possessions are, in life, thy view, These precepts, with assiduous care, pursue. FROM BOOK II. 'Tis sad to perish in the boist'rous tide. When for the voy'ge your vessel leaves the shore, Trust in her hollow sides not half your store, Though large the bounty, in himself is The less your loss should she return no With all your stock how dismal would it be And humbly begs you would no more comTo have the cargo perish in the sea! plain, A load, you know, too pond'rous for the Sink your resentments and be friends again, The age mature when manhood dates his Let prudence now direct your choice: a wife Her father, mother, know, relations, friends, A life of bliss succeeds the happy choice; you say, Observe in all you do, and all The bowl from which you the libation pour First in your friendship let your brother Never begin to build a mansion-seat stand, So nearly joined in blood, the strictest band; Unless you're sure to make the work com plete, Lest, on th' unfinished roof high perched, the crow Croak horrid, and foretell approaching woe. Who in a slothful way his children rears These precepts keep, fond of a virtuous name, NOW stood Eliza on the wood-crowned Hoarse barks the wolf; the vulture screams from far: height, O'er Minden's plains spectatress of the The angel Pity shuns the walks of war. "Oh spare, ye war-hounds, spare their tender age! fight; Sought with bold eye amid the bloody strife On me, on me," she cried, "exhaust your rage!" Then with weak arms her weeping babes caressed, Pleased with the distant roar, with quicker And, sighing, hid them in her blood-stained And love's warm eddies circle round her Quick through the murmuring gloom his footheart. steps tread dead, Near and more near the intrepid beauty O'er groaning heaps, the dying and the pressed; Saw through the driving smoke his dancing Vault o'er the plain, and in the tangled wood, crest; Lo! dead Eliza, weltering in her blood! Heard the exulting shout: "They run! they Soon hears his listening son the welcome run !" sounds: With open arms and sparkling eyes he bounds, "Speak low," he cries, and gives his little hand; "Mamma's asleep upon the dew-cold sand: |