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But thy strength is no more,
And thy beauty is fled,
And thy swift course is o'er (1);
Thou, my lov'd steed (2), art dead!
And a sign there is not,
To the passer-by telling
Where is the sad spot
Of thy last lonely dwelling.
THE TRAVELLERS AND THE OYSTER.
Once, says an author (where I need not say),
Two travellers found an oyster in their way;
Both fierce, both hungry, the dispute grew strong,
While, scale in hand (5), dame Justice pass'd along.
Before her each with clamour pleads the laws,
Explains the matter, and would win the cause.
Dame Justice, weighing long the doubtful right,
Takes, opens, swallows it, before their sight.
The cause of strife removed so rarely well,
" There take (says Justice), take ye (4) each a shell.
We thrive at Westminster (5) on fools like you :
'Twas a fat oyster-live in peace-adieu.”
POPE, from BOILEAU.
(1) O'er, abrégé de over, fini, terminé.
(2) Steed , coursier, destrier.
(3) Scale in hand, la balance en main.
(4) Ye pour you , vous.
(5) Le palais de justice est à Westminster, un quartier de Londres.
EPITAPH ON AN EXCELLENT WOMAN.
Here rests a woman; good without pretence,
Blest (1) with plain reason, and with sober sense :
No conquest she, but o'er herself desired;
No arts essay'd, but not to be admired.
Passion and pride were to her soul unknown,
Convinced that virtue only is our own.
So unaffected, so composed a mind;
So firm , yet soft; so strong, yet so refined (2);
Hear'n, as its pureșt gold, by tortures tried (3).
The saint (4) sustain'd it, but the woman died.
I've (5) roamed through many a weary round (6),
I've wander'd east and west;
Pleasure in every clime I've found,
But sought in vain for rest.
While glory sighs for other spheres,
I feel that one's (7) too wide,
(1) Blest with, doué de.
(2) Refined , pur, épuré.
(3) To try, éprouver.
(4) The saint, l'âme, l'esprit.
(5) I've, pour I have, j'ai.
(6) Weary round , voyage ennuyeux.
(7) One's, pour one is, une seule est.
And think the homc that love endears (1)
Worth all the world beside.
The needle (2) thus loo rudely moved ,
Wanders, unconscious (3) where;
Till having found the place it loved ,
It trembling settles there.
INSCRIPTION ON THE MONUMENT OF A NEW-FOUND
LAND (4) DOG.
Lord Byron was extremely partial to swimming, sailing , and
olher aqualic diversions; and used very frequently to enjoy them on a fine piece of water naer Newslead Abbey (his country
at). He would often row, or sail about the lake in his boat accompanied only by his favourite dog; and when in the middle, he would sometimes fall, as if by accident, out of the boat on purpose to try the sagacity and attachment of the animal. The faithful creature never failed to leap into the water, seize his master and convey him to the shore. This poor dog died in the autumn of 1808, and the noble poet was so much affected by the loss', that he had a monument built, and on it inscribed the following lines.
When some proud son of man returns to earth,
Unknown to glory, but upheld (5) by birth,
(1) To endear, rendre cher.
(2) The needle, l'aiguille aimantée , la boussole.
(3) Unconscious, sans savoir.
(4) New-Foundland, de Terre-Neuve.
(5) Upheld , soutenu.
INSCRIPTION ON THE MONUMENT OF A DOG.
The sculptor's art exhausts the pomp of woe (1),
And storied urns (2) record who rests below;
When all is done, upon the tomb is seen ,
Not what he was , but what he should have been.
But the poor dog, in life the firmest friend,
The first to welcome (3), foremost to defend,
Whose honest heart is still his master's own,
Who labours, fights , lives, breathes for him alone,
Unhonoured falls , unnoticed all his worth,
Denied in heaven the soul he held on earth :
While man, vain insect! hopes to be forgiven,
And claims himself a sole exclusive heaven.
Oh man ! thou feeble tenant (4) of an hour,
Debased (5) by slavery, or corrupt by power,
Who knows thee well must quit thee with disgust,
Degraded mass of animated dust!
Thy love is lust (6), thy friendship all a cheat (7),
Thy smiles hypocrisy, thy words deceit !
By nature vile, ennobled but by name,
Each kindred (8) brute might bid thee blush for shame.
Ye! who perchance behold (9) this simple urn,
Pass on-it honours none you wish to mourn :
(1) The pomp of woe, les pompes du deuil.
(2) Storied urns, urnes chargées d'inscriptions..
(3) To welcome, accueillir.
(4) Tenant, habitant.
(5) Debased , avili.
(6) Lust, sensualité.
(7) A cheat, une imposture.
(8) Kindred, de la même famille , parent.
(9) To behold, regarder, contempler.
To mark a friend's remains these stones arise ;
I never knew but one, and here he lies. BYRON,
LIFE IS BUT A CHASE AFTER HAPPINESS,
What is in this world but grief and care?
What noise and bustle do kings make to find it !
When life's (1) but a short chase, our game (2) content (3),
Which, most pursued, is most compelled to fly;
And he that mounts him on the swiftest hope
Shall often run his courser to a stand (4);
While the poor peasant, from some distant hill,
Undanger'd and at ease views all the sport,
And sees content take shelter (5) in his cottage.
ON THE INVENTION OF LETTERS.
Tell me what genius did the art invent,
The lively image of the voice to paint;
Who first the secret how to colour sound,
And to give shape to reason wisely found ;
With bodies how to clothe (6) ideas taught,
And how to draw the picture (7) of a thought;
(1) Life's , pour life is, la vie est.
(2) Game, gibier.
(3) Content, contentement, bonheur.
(4) To run to a stand , épuiser.
(5) To take shelter, se réfugier.
(6) To clothe, vêtir, habiller.
(7) To draw a picture, faire un tableau , dessiner.