Hadst thou nine lives like a cat, Soon those nine lives would be past. TRANSLATION OF VIRGIL. PASTORAL I. Milebæus. Now, Tityrus, you, supine and careless, laid, Play on your pipe beneath yon beechen shade; While wretched we about the world must roam, And leave our pleasing fields, and native home; Here at your ease you sing your amorous flame, And the wood rings with Amarilla's name. Tityrus. Those blessings, friend, a Deity bestowed, For I shall never think Him less than God; Their blood the consecrated stones shall die: This scarce I lead, who left on yonder rock TRANSLATION OF HORACE. BOOK I. ODE XXII. THE man, my friend, whose conscious heart Nor taints with death the envenomed dart, Though Scythia's icy cliffs he treads, None fiercer Juba's thirsty land, Place me where no soft summer gale Place me beneath the burning line, TRANSLATION OF HORACE. BOOK II. ODE IX. CLOUDS do not always veil the skies, Or storms afflict the ruffled main. Nor, Valgius, on the Armenian shores But you are ever drowned in tears, The wise experienced Grecian sage, Leave off, at length, these woman's sighs, Niphates rolls an humbler wave, TRANSLATION Of Part of the Dialogue between Hector and Andromache. From the sixth book of Homar's Iliad. SHE ceas'd: then godlike Hector answered kind, (His various plumage sporting in the wind) That post and all the rest, shall be my care; And one base action sully all my fame, Acquired by wounds and battles bravely fought! Oh! how my soul abhors so mean a thought! Long have I learned to slight this fleeting breath, And view with cheerful eyes approaching death. The inexorable Sisters have decreed That Priam's house, and Priam's self, shall bleed: The day shall come, in which proud Troy shall yield, And spread its smoking ruins o'er the field. Yet Hecuba's, nor Priam's hoary age, Whose blood shall quench some Grecian's thirsty rage, Nor my brave brothers that have bit the ground, Their souls dismissed through many a ghastly wound; Can in my bosom half that grief create, As the sad thought of your impending fate; When some proud Grecian dame shall tasks im pose, Mimick your tears, and ridicule your woes: Beneath Hyperia's waters shall you sweat, |