XLVII. Lo! where the smoke .

XLIX. Upon Euboea's coast is seen

PAGE

Bulwer. 61

Anstice. 64

65

L. I and my brilliant sisters. Trap to catch a Sunbeam.

LII. Into the gloomy prison. Trap to catch a Sunbeam. 68

LVII. Still glooms the night

LXI. Tell me on what holy ground

LXIV. Merrily the throstle sings

Blackwood. 74

LXVII. Adieu, adieu, my native shore.

LXXI. Weave thee a wreath of woodbine
LXXII. Long years rolled on, and I saw again
LXXIV. Aliud alii Natura iter ostendit

LXXVII. Veturia Coriolanum alloquitur

LXXIX. Do not say that life is waning

Coleridge. 78

Bulwer. 82

LXXXII. The bride is dead, the bride is dead. Barry Cornwall 100

LXXXIII. Time, fly with greater speed away. Cowley. 102

LXXXVI. Past was the day of festal mirth. Lays and Ballads 105

LXXXVIII. The bird let loose in eastern skies

Moore. 108

XCIII. My way is on the bright blue sea. Longfellow. 115

XCIV. At night, upon my storm-drenched wing Longfellow. 117

LATIN PROSE.

II. I can stifle any violent inclination
VIII. The third qualification of an Epic poem
XXIV. Picton and Crawford were however
XXVIII. But it is not the sins of the armies
XXXIII. Our attachment to every object

XL. Some men's books

XLIII. But already the hand

XLVIII. What cruel tyrants were the Romans

LI. Providence never intended

LV. Sappho, the Lesbian

LIX. Fear and anger

LXII. There is not, in my opinion

LXVI. The poor and ignorant Arab

LXX. Rivers may run backward

Addison.

Layard. 83

Sewell. 89

LIII. Behind her neck

LVI. O Peace, thou source

LXIII. In that fair clime

LXVIII. The lapse of time and rivers is the same

LXXVI. Ως δ' ὅτε τις στατὸς ἵππος

LXXX. There will I build him

Wordsworth.

80

86

Hom. Il. xv. 263.

94

PASSAGES FOR TRANSLATION.

I.

MAN is not born to flutter fair,
As butterflies in summer air:
As that leviathan, to play

In pastime through the watery way:
As opening flowers, the shade to shun,
And spread their beauties to the sun.
Each fly and fish and flower we see,
A warning is 'gainst vanity.
Yet there are pleasures, pure and holy,

Which even the mourner may allure,
And chase away his melancholy,

Or lessen, if they cannot cure.

I.

J. Bush.

Into ELEGIACS.

We men are not born to flutter lightly in the air, as the light insect flits in the summer light. Not as the monster traverses the surface of the sea, to whom except pastime there remains nothing to do in the waters. We are not as flowers which shun the cold and the shade, that they may

B

expand their beauty, in the mid-fire of the sun. If we discern the insect, the fish, the flower; they warn us, that bosoms should not swell doomed to die. But there remains to us a pure and sincere pleasure; hence too there shall be that by which the mourner may be allured. This will be able to dispel the silent sorrow of the mind; if it cannot remove, it will lighten its sad burden.

II.

I can stifle any violent inclination, and oppose a torrent

In

of anger, or the solicitations of revenge, with success. dolence is a stream which flows slowly on, but yet undermines the foundation of every virtue. A vice of a more lively nature were a more desirable tyrant than this rust of the mind, which gives a tincture of its nature to every action of one's life. It were as little hazard to be lost in a storm, as to lie thus perpetually becalmed; and it is to no purpose to have within one the seeds of a thousand good qualities, if we want the vigour and resolution necessary for the exerting them. Death brings all persons back to an equality; and this image of it, this slumber of the mind, leaves no difference between the greatest genius, and the meanest understanding. A faculty of doing things remarkably praiseworthy, thus concealed, is of no more use to the owner, than a heap of gold to the man who dares not use it. Spectator.

II.

Into PROSE, literally rendered.

To check the impulses of the mind, if at any time they hurry on too keenly, to resist vehement anger, (or) the goadings of