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If Life were a merchandize which men could buy

The rich would purchase it, and only the poor would die." Worpleton.

Sopra le due Citta subissate dal Trema'oto. "QUI pur foste o Città; ne in voi qui resta Testimon di voi stesse, un sasso solo; In cui si scriva, qui s'aprerse il suolo Qui fu Catania, e Siracusa è questa. Io su l'arena solitaria e mesta

Voi sovente in voi cerco, e trovo solo Un silenzio, un orror, che d'alto duolo M' empie, e gli occhi mi bagna, e il piè m'arresta,

E dico, o formidabile! oh tremendo

Divin giudizio! pur ti veggio, e sento, E non ti temo ancor, nè ancor t' intendo! Deh sorgeste a mostrar' l' alto portento Subissate Cittadi, e sia l'orrendo Scheletro vostro ai secoli spavento."

VINCENZO DA FILACAJA.

"Here, cities, ye once stood; but there does not remain in you a testimony of your existence, not a stone on which might be written, Here the ground opened, there was Catania, and this is Syracuse.' Often, as I wander over the silent and deserted strand,

do I look about for you in yourselves; but all I find is a silence, a horror, which fills me with deep grief, bathes mine eyes and stops my foot, and I exclaim, O formidable, O tremendous judgments! I see you, I feel you all around, and still do not fear, still cannot fully understand you. Rise then once more, ye engulphed cities, show the portentous desolation, and let your horrible skeleton be the terror and lesson of ages to come."-In MATY'S Review, from a collection of Italian Sonnets translated into Latin hexameters by JASSEUS.1

These sonnets were intended to be cast into English ones. The translation implies the time when Southey was not the able Italian scholar he was in his latter days. His own version of some of them may be seen in subsequent pages, e. g. pp. 81, 82. They were composed mostly in 1799.-J. W. W.

Per la Nascita de Primogenito de Piemonte. "VIDI l'Italia col crin sparso e incolto,

Cola dove la Dora in Po declina, Che sedea mesta, e avea negli occhi accolto Quasi un 'orror di servitu vicina: Ne l' altera piangea; serbava un volto Di dolente bensi, ma di Reina; Tal forse apparve allor, che il pie discolto A ceppi offri la liberta Latina. Poi sorger lieta in un balen la vidi, E fiera ricomporsi al fasto usato, E quinci, e quindi minacciar pui Lidi; E s'udia l'Appennin per ogni lato Sonar d'applausi, e di festosi gridi, Italia, Italia il tuo soccorso e nato!"

EUSTACHIO MANFREDI. Bolognese. "On the spot where the Douro falls into the Po, I saw the dishevelled and unkempt Italy, sitting in deep sorrow; she had in her eyes a horror of impending slavery,-not that the proud one shed a tear. Sorrow indeed was in her countenance, but it was the sorrow of a Queen; such perhaps she appeared in ancient Latium, when, bare of foot, she came forward to have her fetters put on. But I saw her in an instant rise joyful from her seat, resume her ancient state and threaten the nations on one side of her and on the other, and the Apennines shouted through their thousand echoes, Italy, Italy! thy Saviour is born."

MATY says, "the author of this, Eustachio Manfredi, seems to show even here that he is of a family of mathematicians, for there is not a proposition of Euclid in which step follows step more methodically than they do in this sonnet." He adds, "I did not dare to render the 'pie disciolto,' be

cause, however classical the idea to express slavery, the naked foot would have presented a disgusting picture to the English reader, who might have sent the dirty wench to put on her stockings."

Nella Monazzione di una sua Nipote. "Io del secol fuggii la perfid' onda, Primo del sangue nostro, e la procella,

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"I, sweet niece, was the first of our blood who fled from the treacherous waves and tempest of life; nor could the flattering appearance of favourable gales ever tempt me to try them again; and yet though I have escaped, still does the storm, beating on the beach, dash daily against the sides of the vessel in which I was; nor amidst so deep a night do I discover a single star whose benign ray may assist to weather the fierce storm. Make you then strongly for the shore. Innocence and Virtue will help draw to land, where we shall find comfort and the end of every ill. There, our sails and cables safe at length, and appended to the altar, I have hope that we may one day laugh together at the impotence of the tempest."

"ITALIA, Italia, o tu, cui feo la sorte

Dono infelice di bellezza, onde hai Funesta dote d'infiniti guai, Che in fronte scritti per gran doglia porte, Deli fossi tu men bella, o almen piu forte,

Onde assai piu ti paventassi, o assai T'amasse men chi del tuo bello a i rai

Par che si strugga, e pur ti sfida a morte Che or giu d'all' Alpi no vedrei torrenti

Scender d'armati, ne di sangue tinta Bever l'onda del Po Gallici armenti;

Ne te vedrei del non tuo ferro cinta Pugnar col braccio di straniere genti Per servir sempre o vincitrice, o vinta." FILICAIA.

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"O Italy, Italy, gifted by fate with an unhappy gift of beauty, from whence thou hast a deadly dower of miseries, whose marks thou still bearest on thy forehead; oh, that thou wert less beautiful or more strong, that they might love thee less, or fear thee more, who pretend to be dying for thee at the time they are attempting thy life. Then should we not behold torrents of hostile squadrons roll down thy Alps, nor Gallic herds drinking by thy ensanguined Po. Then should we not see thee girt with a sword not thine own, and shooting thine arrows from a foreign bow, to be still a slave at the end of the day, whether victor or vanquished." "Dov'è, Italia, il tuo braccio? e a chi ti servi

Epitaphs.

"DRAE near my friends and have A ni As you be now so once was i And as I am so you shall be The glass is running now for thee." Upham.

"WE were not slayne, but raysd,
Raysd not to life,
But to be buried twice
By men of strife.
What rest could living have
When dead had none?
Agree amongst you,

Here we ten are one."

Tu dell' altrui? non è, s' io scorgo il vero, Henry Rogers died Aprill 17, 1641.

Di chi t'offende il diffensor men fero;

Ambo nemici sono, ambo fur servi :—
Cosi dunque l'onor, cosi conservi

Gli avanzi tu del glorioso impero ?
Cosi al valor, cosi al valor primiero,
Che a te fede giuro, la fede asservi ?
Or va! repudia il valor prisco, e sposa
L'Ozio, e fra il sangue, i gemiti, e le strida
Nel periglio maggior dormi, e riposa :

Dormi adultera vil, fin che omicida
Spada ultrice ti svegli, e sonnachiosa

E nuda in braccio al tuo fedel t'uccida."
FILICAIA.

"Italy, where is thine own right arm, and wherefore dost thou use a stranger's? If I remember me right, he who defends thee is not less a barbarian than he who attacks thee. Both are thine enemies, both have been thy slaves. Thus then it is that thou bethinkest thee of thy past illustrious story! thus thou maintainest thine honour, and this is the remembrance thou hast of thy pledged faith to the valiant genius of old Latium! Go then, divorce thee from that honored husband-marry sloth; and amidst blood, groans, and the noise of arrows hissing round thee, sleep on and repose in greater danger than before:-vile adulteress, sleep on, till the avenging sword awake and slay thee, naked and drowsy, in the arms of thy new beloved."

Christchurch.

Of this I heard two traditionary explanations, neither of them satisfactory, and each destroying all the authority of the other. That the ten men were killed by the

falling in of the earth in a gravel pit, and dug out to be buried. This the first line contradicts; and, if true, what means the fourth? That they were ten royalists, whose bones were dug up by Cromwell. The single name then at the end is strange. "One" must mean unanimous. The last solution is possible; but I believe the honour of digging up his dead enemies was reserved for the worthy Charles II.

“HERE I lie all putrefaction Waiting for the resurrection."

Petition of the London Wives.

"In this parliament (1428) there was one Mistris Stokes, with divers others stout women of London, of good reckoning, wellapparrelled, came openly to the upper parliament and delivered letters to the Duke of Glocester, and to the archbishops, and to the other lords there present, containing matter of rebuke and sharpe reprehension of

the Duke of Glocester, because he would not deliver his wife, Jacqueline, out of her grievous imprisonment, being then helde prysoner by the Duke of Burgondy, suffering her there to remain so unkindly, and for his publike keeping by him another adultresse, contrary to the law of God, and the honourable estate of matrimony."-Edmund Howes.

There are many curious particulars in this man's history. I have never (that I remember) seen him quoted, or heard his name. He wrote under Elizabeth, James and Charles; and acknowledges obligations for assistance in his work, among other men more eminent in their own day, to Sir Edward Coke and Master Camden.

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"WE lived together as you did see to die Together that will be never yet in and Thro' Christ we hope to live for ever From sudden death Good Lord deliver me Yet sudden death we hope did set our sister free."-Ch. Church.

In a church yard, about five miles from Monmouth, on the Chepstow road :"ON SOME Children.

"SLEEP soft in dust, wait the Almighty's will

Then rise again and be as angels still."

"A LOVING wife, a tender mother,
Which hard it were to find such another.
If Angels were on earth sure this was one
Whose limbs lie here, her soul to God is
flown."

"I LABOUR'D hard in this world
But 'twas no gain to me,

I hope my child and I will gain eternity."
"A TENDER father, a mother dear,
Two bosom friends lie buried here.
It was pale-faced death that brought us
hither.

We lived in love-let us lie together.

So here we lie by our dear babes

All covered with cold clay, Hoping with joy to meet our Lord At the eternal day."

YARMOUTH.

"THE best of wives was call'd from me

She was both meek and mild;

Twas God's decree, let his will be,
He took both wife and child."

"HERE lies a woman

By all the good esteemed
Because they proved her

Really what she seem'd."

"SLEEP lovely babes, and be at rest, God calls them first, whom he loves best.”

"For Jesus' sake in his most blessed name I crave,

Do not remove this stone, nor yet disturb this grave."

"FAREWELL dear babes; to dust we you resign,

And at your lot we will no more repine; Being assured that at the Resurrection, Your bodies through Christ will rise into perfection."

Similes.

"UN ruisseaux tire des eaux pures de sa source; mais il est troublé d'abord qu'il passe par dessus les bords de son canal."Oriental Maxim.

A good simile applied to economy.

"In winter the trees remind us of skeletons."-W. SMELLIE.

UNBELIEVERS

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to a man who stops his ears in a thunder-storm for fear.-Koran, v. 1. p. 4.

Cool sound of wind-to the rain falling on the tree that shelters the summer traveller.

Clinging to religion-to the volutella. "Oh! woe to thee when doubt comes on! it blows over thee like a wind from the north, and makes all thy joints to quake."

From a quaint piece, in the Selections from Foreign Journals, taken from the Teutsche Museum, entitled-"That a man can do whatever he will, is something more than a mere matter of speculation;" by JOHN

PETER CRAFT.

Lines to S. P1

BURTON, September 1st. 1797. "A WEARYING thing it is to waste the day Among the biped herd; to walk alone

Sophia Pemberton, afterwards married to his friend Charles Lloyd.-J. W. W.

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I know these longings well; and I would fain

Sketch the rude outline that Affection's hand
Will love to perfect, as her magic gives
Soul to the picture. When at morn he seeks
The echoing ocean's verge, she best can feel
What feelings swell within the enthusiast's
breast,

As o'er the grey infinity of waves
His eye reposes, as the gathered surge
Bursts hollow on his ear, then rolling back
Yields to a moment's silence, while the foam
Left by the billow, as it melts away,
Shakes in the wind trembling with rainbow

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