(*3) “Ovid had been wise for winking." Page 229.
The poet Ovid was exiled for life to the shores of the Black Sea for having seen, and indiscreetly divulged, some intrigue in the family of Augustus. He omplains frequently o this hard lot; for example,
"Inscia quod crimen viderunt lumina plector,
Peccatumque oculos est habuisse meum."
But he might with greater justice have accused his tongue than his eyes.
Scipio is reported to have originated the popular sayings," I am never less idle than when I have most leisure," and "I am never less alone than when alone."
The Emperor Charles V., with the example of an before him, resigned his crown, a..d retired from the world to the monastery of St. Just, at Plazencia, in Spain: where, as Robertson says, "he ouried in solitude and silence his grandeur and his urbiticu"
It may be necessary to acquaint the reader that this section takes a retro spective glance at my former series of subjects treated in the proverbial style ■ brief recapitulation of the present series follows, finishing the work.
My heart presents her gift; in turn, of thee
I ask a little time, an idle hour,
Kindly to spend with these my thoughts and me,
Wooing the fragrance of the Muses' bower;
Not without name or note, yet nameless now
As one devoid of fame and skill and power,
Bearing no charge upon mine argent shield,
A candidate unknown with vizored brow,
Full of young hopes I dare the tented field !—
Not so:-this is no time for measuring swords;
Thou art no craven though thy spirit yield.
For yonder are fair looks and friendly words:
Choose a more peaceful image :—hore, reveaïd
Shines a small sample of my golden hoards.
"A LITTLE more sleep, a little more slumber,
A little more folding the hands to sleep,"
For quick-footed dreams, without order or number,
Over my mind are beginning to creep,-
Rare is the happiness thus to be raptured
By your wild whispers, my Fanciful train,
And, like a linnet, be carelessly captured
In the soft nets of my beautiful brain!
Touch not these curtains!—your hand will be tearing
Delicate tissues of thoughts and of things;-
Call me not!-your cruel voice will be scaring
Flocks of young visions on gossamer wings:
Leave me, O leave me,-for in your rude presence
Nothing of all my bright world can remain,—
Thou art a blight to this garden of pleasance,
Thou art a blot on my beautiful brain !
Cease your dull lecture on cares and employment,
Let me forget awhile trouble and strife,
Leave me to peace,-let me husband enjoyment,—
This is the heart and the marrow of life!
For to my feeling the choicest of pleasures
Is to lie thus, without peril or pain,
Lazily listening the musical measures
Of the sweet voice in my beautiful brain!
Hush, for the halo of calmness is spreading
Over my spirit, as mild as a dove;
Hush, for the angel of comfort is shedding
Over my body his vial of love;
Hush, for new slumbers are over me stealing,
Thus would I court them again and again,
Hush,-for my heart is intoxicate,-reeling
In the swift waltz of my beautiful brain!
OPEN the casement, and up with the Sun!
His gallant journey is just begun;
Over the hills his chariot is roll'd,
Banner'd with glory, and burnish'd with gold,—
Over the hills he comes sublime,
Bridegroom of Earth, and brother of Time!
Day hath broken, joyous and fair;
Fragrant and fresh is the morning air,-
Beauteous and bright those orient hues,
Balmy and sweet these early dews;
O, there is health, and wealth, and bliss
In dawning Nature's motherly kiss!
Lo, the wondering world awakes,
With its rosy-tipp'd mountains and gleaming lakes,
With its fields and cities, deserts and trees,
Its calm old cliffs, and its sounding seas,
In all their gratitude blessing HIM
Who dwelleth between the Cherubim!
Break away boldly from Sleep's leaden chain,
Seek not to forge that fetter again;
Rather, with vigour and resolute nerve,
Up, up, to bless man, and thy Master to serve,
Thankful and hopeful, and happy to raise
The offering of prayer, and the incense of praise!
Gird thee, and do thy watching well,
Duty's Christian sentinel!
Sloth and Slumber never had part
In the warrior's will, or the patriot's heart;
Soldier of God on an enemy's shore!
Slumber and sloth thrall thee no more.
How gladly would I wander through some strange and savage land, The lasso at my saddle bow, the rifle in my hand,
A leash of gallant mastiff's bounding by my side,
And for a friend to love, the noble horse on which I ride!
Alone, alone-vet not alone, for God is with me there,
The tender hand of Providence shall guide me every where,
While happy thoughts and holy hopes, as spirits calm and wuld,
Shall fan with their sweet wings the hermit-hunter of the wad!
Without a guide,—yet guided well,—young, buoyant, fresh and free
Without a road,-yet all the land a highway unto me,—
Without a care, without a fear, without a grief or pain,
Exultingly I thread the woods, or gallop o'er the plain!
Or, brushing through the copse, from his leafy home I start
The stately elk, or tusky boar, the bison, or the hart,
And then, with eager spur, to scour away, away,
Nor stop,-unul my dogs have brought the glorious brute to bay.
Or, if the gang of hungry wolves come yelling on my track,
I make my ready rifle speak, and scare the cowards back;
Or, if the lurking leopard's eyes among the branches shine,
A touch upon the trigger-and his spotted skin is mine!
And then the hunter's savoury fare at tranquil evenæ,
The dappled deer shot to-day upon the green hillside;
My feasted hounds are slumbering round beside the water-course,
And plenty of sweet prairie-grass for thee, my noble horse.
Hist! hist! I heard some prowler snarling in the wood;
I seized my knife and trusty gun, and face to face we stood!
The Grizzly Bear came rushing on,—and, as he rush'd, he fell!
Hie at him, dogs! my rifle has done its duty well!
|