Imágenes de páginas

Those smiling cyes, attempering every ray, You rais'd these hallow'd walls; the desert smil
Shone sweetly lambent with celestial day.

And Paradise was opend in the wild,
Guiltless I gaz'd; Heaven listen'd while you sung; No weeping orphan saw his father's stores
And truths divine came mended from that tongue. Our shrines irradiate, or emblaze the foors;
From lips like those what precept fail'd to move? No silver saints, by dying misers given,
"Too soon they tanght me 'twas no siz to love: Here bribe the rage of ill-requited Heaven ;
Back through the paths of pleasing sense I ran, But such plain roofs as Piety could raise,
Nor wish'd an angel whom I lov'd a man.

And only vocal with the Maker's praise.
Dim and remote the joys of saints I see,

In these lone walls, (their days eternal bound) Nor envy them that fleaven I lose for thee. These moss-grown domes with spiry turrets crown'd,

How oft, when pressd to marriage, have I said, Where awful arches make a noon-day night,
Curse on all laws but those which Love has made! And the dim windows shed a solemnn light ;
Lore, frec as air, at sight of human ties,

Thy eyes diffus'd a reconciling ray,
Spreads his light wings, and in a moment flies. And gleains of glory brighten'd all the day.
Let wealth, let honour, wait the wedded dame, But now no face divine contentment wears,
August her deer, and sacred be her famc; "T'is all blank sadness, or continual tears.
Before true passion all those views remove; See how the force of others' prayers ) try,
Fame, wealth, and honour! what are you to love? (O pious fraud of amorous charity!)
The jealous god, when we prophane his fires, But why should I on others' prayers depend ?
Those restless passions in revenge inspires,

Come thou, my father, brother, husband, friend ! And bids them make inistaken mortals groan, Ah, let thy handinaid, sister, daughter, move, Who seek in love for aught but love alone.

And all those tender names in one, thy love! Should at my feet the world's great master fall, The darksome pines that o'er yon rocks reclin'd Himself, his throne, his world, I'd scorn theia all : Wave high, and inurmur to the hollow wind, Not Cæsar's empress would I deign to prove; Thewandering streams that shine between the hills, No, make me mistress to the man I love.

The grots that echo to the tivkling rills, If there be yet altiother name more free,

'The dying gales that pant upon the trees, More fond than mistress, make me that to thee! The lakes that quiver to the curling brecze; Oh, happy state! when souls each other draw, No more these scenes my meditation aid, When love is liberty, and Nature law :

Or lull to rest the visionary maid : All then is full, possessing and possess'd,

But o'er the twilight groves and dusky caves,
No craving void left aching in the brcast : (part, Long-sounding aisles, and intermingled graves,
Ev'n thought meets thought, ere from the lips it Black Melancholy sits, and round her throws
And each warm wish springs mutual from the heart. A death-like silence, and a dread repose;
This sure is bliss (if bliss on Earth there be) Her gloomy presence saddens all the scene,
And once the lot of Abelard and mc.

Shades every flower and darkens every green,
Alas, how chang'd! what sulden hortours rise! Deepens the murmur of the falling floods,
A naked lover bound and bleeding lies!

And breathes a browner horrour on the woods
Where, where was Eloise? her voice, her hand, Yet here for ever, ever must I stay;
Her ponvard had oppos’d the dire command. Sad proof how well a lover can obey !
Barbarian, stay! that bloody stroke restrain ; Death, only Death, can break the lasting chain;
"The crime was common, common be the pain. And here, ev'n then, shall my cold dust remain;
I can no more; by shame, hy rage suppress'd, Here all its frailties, all its fames resign,
Let tears and burning blushes speak the rest. And wait till 'tis no sin to mix with thine.

Canst thou forget that sad, that solemn day,. Ah, wretch! believ'd the spouse of God in vain, When rictims at yon altar's fuot we lay?

Covfess'd within the slave of love and man.
Canst thou forget what tears that moment fell, Assist me, Heaven! but whence arose that prayer!
When, warm in youth, I badle the world farewell? Sprung it from piety, or from despair?
As with cold lips I kiss'd the sacred veil,

Ev'y here where frozen Chastity retires,
The shrines all trenibleil and the lamps grew pale : Love finds an altar for forbidden tires.
Ileaven scarce believ'd the conquest it survey'd, I ought to grieve, but cannot what I ought;
And saints with wonder heard the vows I inade. I mourn the luver, not lament the fault,
Yet then, to those dread altars as I drew,

I view my criine, but kindle at the view,
Not on the cross my eyes were fix’d, but you : Repent old pleasures, and solicit new;
Not grace, or zcal, love only was my call; Now turn'd to Fleaven, I weep my past offence
And if I lose thy love, I lose my all.

Now think of thee, and curse my innocence.
Come! with thry looks, thy words, it:lieve my woc; Of all affliction taught a lover yet,
Those still at least are left thee to bestow.

'Tis sure the hardest science to forget! Still on that breast enamour'd let me lie,

How shall I lose the sin, yet keep the sense, Still drink delicious poison from thy eye,

And love th' offender, yet detest th' offence! Pant on thy lip, and to thy heart be prese'd ; How the dear objert from the criinc remove, Give all thou canst and let me ircam the rest. Or how distinguish p:'nitence froin love? Ah, no! instruct ine other joys to prize,

l'nequal task! a passion to resign, With other beauties charm my partial cyes, For Hearts so touh'd, so piercd, so lost as mine ! Full in my view set all the bright abode,

Fre such a soul regains its peaceful state, And make my soul quit Abelard for Gul.

How often must it love, how often hate! Ah, think at least thy fock deserves thy care, How often hope, despair, resent, regret, Plants of thy hand, and children of thy prayer. Conceal, disdain,- do all things but forget! From the false world in early yonth they fled, But let Heaven seize it, all at once 'tis fir'd: By thee to mountains, wilds, and deserts lech Not louch'd, but rapt; not waken'd, but inspir'd! Oh, come, oh, teach me Nature to subdue, One thought of thee puts all the pomp to flight, Renounce my love, my life, inyself--and you. Priests, tapers, temples, swim before my sight: Fill my fond heart with God alone, for he

In seas of flame my plunging soul is drown'd, Alone can rival, can succeed to thee.

While altars blaze, and angels tremble ronnd. How happy is the blaineless vestal's lot;

While prostrate here in humble grief Ilie, The world forgetting, by the world forgot! Kind, virtuous drops just gathering in my eye, Eternal sun-shine of the spotless mind!

While, praying, trembling, in the dust I roli, Each prayer accepted, and each wish resign'd; And dawning grace is opening on my soul: Labour and rest that equal periods keep;

Come, if thou dar'st, all charming as thou art ! “ Obedient sluinbers that can wake and weep;" Oppose thyself to Heaven; dispute my heart; Desires compos'd, affections ever even;

Ceme, with one glance of those deluding eyes Tears that delight, and sighs that waft to Heaven. Blot out each bright idea of the skies; (tears; Grace shines around her with erencst beams, Take back that grace, those sorrows, and those And whispering angels prompt her golden dreams. Take back my fruitless penitence and prayers; For her th' unfading rose of Eden blooms,

Snatch me, just mounting, from the blest abode And wings of seraphs shed divine perfumes; Assist the tiends, and tear me from my God! For her the spouse prepares the bridal ring; No, fy mne, fly me, far as pole from pole; For her white virgins hymenæals sing ;

Rise Alps between us! and whole occans ioll! To sonnds of heavenly harps she dics away, Ah, come not, write not, think not once of me, And melts in visions of eternal day.

Vor share one pang of all I felt for thee. Far other dreams my erring soul employ, Thy oaths I quit, thy memory resign! Far other raptures of unholy joy :

Forget, renounce me, hate whate'er was mine. When, at the close of each sad, sorrowing day, Fair eyes, and tempting looks, (which yet I view !) Fancy restores what Vengeance snatch'd away, Long lov'd, ador'd ideas, all adieu ! Then Conscience sleeps, and leaving Nature free, O Grace screne! O Virtue heavenly fair ! All my louse soul unbounded springs to thee. Divine oblivion of low-thoughted Care! O curst, dear horrours of all-cousious night! Fresh-blooming Hope, gay daughter of the sky! How glowing guilt exalts the keen delight! And Faith, our early immortality! Provoking demons all restraint remove,

Enter, each mild, each amicable guest; And stir within me every source of love.

Receive and wrap me in eternal rest! i hear thee, view thee, gaze o'er all thy charms, See in her cell sad Eloïsa spread, And round thy phantom glue my clasping arıns. Propt on some tomb, a neighbour of the dead. I wake :--no more I hear, no more I view,

In each low wind methinks a spirit calls, 'The phantom flies me, as unkind as you.

And more than Echoes talk along the walls. I call aloud; it hears not what I say:

Here, as I watch'd the dying lamp around, I stretch my empty arms; it glides away.

Froin yonder shrine I heard a hollow sound. To dream once more I close my willing eyes; Comie, sister, come!” (it said, or seem'd to say) Ye soft illusions, dear deceits, arise !

Thy place is here, sad sister, come away! Alas, no more! mcthinks we wandering go

Once like thyself, I trembled, wept, and pray'd, Through dreary wastes, and weep each other's woe, Love's victim then, though now a sainted maid : Where round some mouldering tower pale ivy creeps, But all is calm in this eternal sleep; And low-brow'd rocks hang nodding o'er the deeps. Here Grief forgets to groan, and Love to weep : Sudden you mount, you beckon from the skies; Ev'n Superstition loses every fear; Clouds interpose, waves roar, and winds arise. For God, not man, absolves our frailties here." I shriek, start up, the same sad prospect find, I come, I come! prepare your roseate bowers, And wake to all the griefs I left behind.

Celestial palms, and ever-blooming flowers. For thee the Fates, severely kind, ordain Thither, where sinners may have rest, I go, A coul suspense from pleasure and from puin; Where flames refin'd in breasts seraphic glow; Thy life a long dead calm of fix'd repo e;

Thou, Abelard! the last sad office pay, No pulse that riots, and no blood that glows. Aud smooth my passage to the realms of days Still as the sea, "Te winds were taught to blow, See my lips tremble, and my eye-balls roll, Or moving spirit bade the waters flow;

Suck my last breath, and catch my flying soul! Soft as the slumbers of a saint forgiven,

Ah, no-in sacred vestments mayst thou stand, And mild as opening gleams of promis'd Heaven. The hallow'd taper trembling in thy hand,

Come, Abelard ! for what hast thou to dread ? Present the cross before my lifted cye,
The torch of Venus burns not for the dead.

Teach me at once, and learn of me to die.
Nature stands check'd; Religion disapproves ; Ah, then tly once lov'd Eloïsa see!
Ev'n thou art cold-yet Flojša loves.

It will be then no crime to gaze on me.
Ah, hopeless, lasting flames ! like those that burn See from my check the transient roses fly!
To light the dead, and warm th’ unfruitful urn. See the last sparkle languish in my eye!

What scenes appear where'er I turn my view! Till every motion, pulse, and breath be o'er; The dear ideas, where I sy, pursue,

And ev'n my Abelard be lov'd no more. Rise in the grove, before the altar rise,

O Death all eloquent ! you only prove Stain all ins soul, and wanton in iç cyes.

What dust we doat on, when 'tis man we love.' I waste the inatin lamp in sighs for ther,

Then too, when Fate shall thy fair frame de Thy iroage steals between my God and ine, (That cause of all my guilt, and all my joy) (stroy, Thy voice I seem in every hymu to hear,

In trance extatic may thy pangs be drown'd. With every bcad I drop too soft a tear.

Bright clouds descend, and angels watch thee round, When froin the cens.r clouds of fragrance roll, From opening skies may streaming gl.ics shine, And swelling organus lift the rising soul,

And saints embrace thee with a love like mine!

May one kind grave unite cach hapless name,
And graft my love immortal on thy fame!
Then, ages hence, when all my wors are o'er,
When this rebellious heart shall beat no more ;
If ever chance two wandering lovers brings
To Paraclete's white walls and silver springs,
O'er the pale marble shall they join their heads,
And drink the falling tears each other sheds;
Then sadly say, with mutual pity movid,
"0, may we never love as these have lov'd !"
From the full choir, when loud hosannas rise,
And swell the pomp of dreadful sacritice,

Amid that scene if some relenting eye
Glance on the stone where our cold relics lie,
Devotion's self shall steal a thought from Heaver,
One human tear shall drop, and be forgiven.
And sure if Fate some future bard shall join
In sad similitude of griefs to mine,
Condeinn'd whole years in absence to deplore,
And image charms he must behold no more;
Such, if there be, who loves so long, so well;
Let him our sad, our tender story tell!
The well-sung woes will sooth my pensive ghost;
He best can paint them who shall feel them most!


ADVERTISEMENT. The following Translations were selected from many others done by the author in his youth; for the

most part indeed but a sort of exercises, while he was improving himself in the languages, and carried by his early bent to poetry to perform them rather in verse than prose. Mr. Dryden's Fables came out about that time, which occasioned the Translations from Chaucer. They were first separately printed in Miscellanies by J. Tonson and B. Lintot, and afterwards collected in the quarto edition of 1717. The Imitations of English authors, which follow, were done as early, some of thein at fourteen or fifteen years old.


When opening buds salute the welcome day,

And earth relenting feels the genial ray;

As balıny sleep had charm’d my cares to rest,

And love itself was banish'd from my breast,
(What time the morn mysterious visions brings,

While purer slumbers spread their golden wings)

A train of phantoms in wild order rose,
Tue hint of the following piece was taken from And join d, this intellectual scene compose.
Chaucer's House of Fame. The design is in a

I stood, methought, betwixt earth, seas and manner entirely altered, the descriptions and The whole creation open to my eyes : (skies; 11 most of the particular thoughts my owul; yet I In air self-balanc'd liung the globe below, could not suffer it to be printed without this ac

Where mountains rise, and circling oceans flow; knowledgment. The reader, who would com

Here naked rocks, and empty wastes were seen ; pare this with Chaucer, may begin with his There towering cities, and the forests green: third book of Fame, there being nothing in the

Here sailing ships delight the wandering eyes; two first books that answers to their title: There trees and intermingled temples rise: wherever any hint is taken from him, the pas- The transient landscape now in clouds decayse

Now a clear sun the shining scene displays; sage itself is set down in the marginal notes. The poem is introduced in the manner of the Pro

O'er the wide prospect as I gaz'd around, vençal poets, whose works were for the most Sudden I heard a wild promiscuous sound,

Like broken thunders that at distance roar, part visions, or picces of imagination, and constantly descriptive. From these, Petrarch and Or billows murmuring on the hollow shore : Chaucer frequently boríowed the idca of their poems. See the Trionfi of the former, and the Dream, Flower and the leaf, &c. of the latter following of Chancer, Book ii.

Ver. 11, &c.] These verses are hinted from the The author of this therefore chose the same sort

Thougli beheld I fields and plains, of exordium.

Now hills and now mountains,

Now valeis, and now forestes,

And now unneth great bestes,

Now rivers, now citces, In that soft season, when descending showers

Now towns, now great trees, Call forth the greens, and win the rising flowers; Now shippes sayling in the see.


Then gazing up, a glorious pile beheld, (ceal'd. Their names inscrib'd unnumber'd ages past
Whose towering summit ambient clouds con- From Time's first birth, with Time itself shall last;
High on a rock of ice the structure lay, 27 l'hese ever new, nor subject to decays,
Steep its ascent, and slippery was the way; Spread and grow brighter with the length of days.
The wonderous rock like Parian marble shone, So Zembla's rocks (the beauteous work of
And seem'd, to distant sigbt, of solid stone.

Inscriptions here of various names I view'd, 31 Rise white in air, and glitter o'er the coast ;
The greater part by hostile time subdued; Pale suns, unfelt, at distance roll away,
Yet wide was spread their fame in ages past, And on th' impassive ice the lightnings play;
And poets once had promis'd they should last. Eternal snows the growing mass supply,
Some fresh engrav'd appeard of wits renown'd; 'Till the bright mountains prop th' incumbent sky;
I look'd again, nor could their trace be found. As Atlas fix'd, each hoary pile appears,
Critics I saw, that other names deface,

The gather'd winter of a thousand years, And fix their own, with labour, in their place : On this foundation Pame's high temple stands ; Their own, like others, soon their place resign'd, Stupendous pile! not rear'd by mortal hands, Or disappear'd, and left the first behind.

Whate'er proud Rome or artful Greece beheld, Nor was the work impair'd by storms alone, 41 Or elder Babylon, its frame excell'd!. But felt th' approaches of too warm a sun;

Four faces had the dome, and every face, Por Fame, impatient of extremes, decays

Of various structure, but of equal grace! Not more by Envy, than excess of Praise.

Four brazen gates, on columns lifted high, Yet part no injuries of Heaven could feel, 45 Salute the different quarters of the sky. Like crystal faithful to the graving steel:

Here fabled chicfs in darker ages born,
The rock's high summit, in the temple's shade, Or worthies old, whom arms or arts adorn,
Nor heat could melt, nor beating storm invade. Who cities rais'd, or tam'd a monstrous race,

The walls in venerable order grace:

Heroes in animated marble frown,
Ver. 27. High on a rock of ice, &c.] Chaucer's And legislators seem to think in stone,
third book of Fame.

Westward, a sumptuous frontispiece appear'd, It stood upon so high a rock,

On Doric pillars of white marble rear'd, Higher standeth none in Spayne

Crown'd with an architrave of antique mold, What manner stone this rock was,

And sculpture rising on the roughen'd gold, For it was like a lyined glass,

In shaggy spoils here Theseus was beheld, But that it shone full more clere;

And Perseus dreadful with Minerva's shield: But of what congeled matere

There great Alcides, stooping with his toil, It was, I niste redily;

Rests on his club, and holds th' Hesperian spoil : Bat at the last espied I,

Here Orpheus sings ; trees moving to the sound And found that it was every dele,

Start from their roots, and form a shade around: A rock of ice, and not of stele.

Amphion there the loud creating lyre Ver. 31. Inscriptions here, &c.]

Strikes, and behold a sudden Thebes aspire!
Tho saw I all the hill y-grave

Cythæron's echoes answer to his call,
With fauious folkes names fele,

And half the mountain rolls into a wall:
That had been in inuch wele

There might you see the lengthening spires ascend,
And her fames wide y-blow ;

The domes swell up, the widening arches bend,
But well unneth might I know,

The growing towers like exhalations rise,
Any letters for to rede

And the huge columns heave into the skies,
Their names by, for out of drede

The easieru front was glorious to behold,
They weren almost off-thawen so,

With diamond flaming, and Barbaric gold,
That of the letters one or two

There Ninus shone, who spread th’ Assyrian fame,
Were molte away of every name,

And the great founder of the Persian name :
So unfamous was woxe her fame;

There in long robes the royal Magi stand,
But men said, what may ever last? Grave Zoroaster waves the circling wand:
Ver. 41. Nor was the work impair'd, &c. The sage Chaldæns rob'd in white appear'd,
Tho'gan I in myne harte cast,

And Brachmans, deep in desert woods rever'd. That they were molte away for heate, These stopp'd the Moon, and call'd th' unbody'd And not away with storines beate,

shades Ver. 45. Yet part no injuries, &c.]

To midnight banquets in the glimmering glades; For on that other side I sey,

Made visionary fabrics round them rise, Of that hill which northward ley,

And airy specires skim before their eyes; How it was written full of names

Of talisinans and sigils knew the power,
Of folke, that had before great fames, And careful watch'd the planetary hour.
Of old time, and yet they were

Superior, and alone, Confucius stood,
As fresh as men had written hem there Who taught that useful science, to be good.
That self-day, or that houre

But on the sonth, a long majestic race
That I on hem gan to poure :

Of Egypt's priests the gilded niches grace, But well I wiste what it made;

Who ineasur'd Earth, describ'd the starry spheres, It was conserved with the shade

And trac'd the long records of lunar years. (All the writing that I sye)

High on his car Sesostris struck my view Of the castle that stoode on high,

Whom scepter'd slaves in golden barness drew: And stood eke in so cold a place,

His hands a bow and pointed javelin hold; That heat might it not deface,

His giant limbs are arm'd in scales of gold.

Between the statues obelisks were plac'd,

But in the centre of the hallow'd choir, And the learn'd walls with hieroglyphics grac'd. Six pompous columns o'er the rest aspire ; 179

Of Gothic structure was the northern side, Around the shrine itself of Fame they stand, O’erwrought with ornaments of barbarous pride. Hold the chief honours, and the fane command. There huge Colosses rose, with trophies crown'd, High on the first, the mighty Homer shone; 182 And Runic characters were grav'd around.

Eternal adamant compos'd his throne ; There sat Zamolxis with erected eyes,

Father of verse! in holy fillets drest, And Odin here in mimic trances dies.

His silver beard wav'd gently o'er his breast; There on rude iron columns, smeard with blood, Though blind, a boldness in his looks appears ; The horrid forms of Scythian heroes stood,

11 years he seem'd, but not impair'd by years. Druids and bards (their once loud harps unstrung) The wars of Troy were round the pillar seen: And youths that died to be by poets sung.

Here fierce Tydides wounds the Cyprian queen; These and a thousand more of doubtful fame, Here Hector glorious from Patroclus' fall, To whom old fables gave a lasting name,

Here dragg’d in triumph round the Trojan wall. In ranks adoru'd the temple's outward face ; Motion and life did every part inspire, The wall in lustre and effect like glass, 132 Bold was the work, and prov'd the master's fire; Which, o'er each object casting various dyes, A strong expression most he seem'd t'affect, Enlarges some, and others multiplies :

And here and there disclos'd a brave neglect. Nor void of emblem was the mystic wall,

A golden column next in rank appear'd, 196 For thus romantic Fame increases all.

On which a shrine of purest gold was rear'd;
The temple shakes, the sounding gates unfold, Finish'd the whole, and labour'd every part,
Wide vaults appear, and roofs of fretted gold : With patient touches of unwearied Art:
Rajs'd on a thousand pillars wreath'd around, The Mantuan there in sober triumph sate,
With laurel-foliage, and with eagles crown'd: Compos'd his posture, and his look sedate;
Of bright transparent laeryl were the walls, On Homes still he fix'd a reverent eye,
The freezes gold, and gold the capitals:

Great without pride, in modest majesty.
As Heaven with stars, the roof with jewels glows, In living sculpture on the si-les were spread
And ever-living lamps depend in rows.

The Latian wars, and haughty Turnus dead;
Full in the passage of each spacious gate, Eliza stretch'd upon the funeral pyre,
The sage historians in white garments wait ; Æncas bending with his aged sire:
Gray'd o'er their seats the form of Time was

His scythe revers’d, and both his pinions bound.

Within stood heroes, who through loud alarms Ver. 179. Six pompous columns, &c.]
In bloody fields pursued renown in arms.

From the Jees many a pillere,
High on a throne with trophies charg'd, I view'd Of inetal that shone not full clere, &c.
The youth that all things but hiinself subdued; Upou a pillere saw I stonde
His feet on sceptres and tiaras trod,

That was of lede and iron fine,
And his horn'd head bely'd the Lybian god.

Him of the sect Saturnine,
There Cæsar, grac'd with both Minervas, shone ; The Ebraicke Josephus the old, &c.
Cæsar, the world's great master, and his own;

Upon an iron pillere strong,
Unmov'd, superior still in every state,

That painted was ail endlong, And şoarce detested in his country's fate.

With tigers' blood in every place, But chief were those, who not for empire fought, The Tholosan that hight Stace, But with their toils their people's safety bought: That bear of Thebes up the name, &c. High o'er the rest Epaminondas stood;

Ver. 182.) Timoleon, glorious in his brother's blood;

Full wonder high on a pillere Bold Scipio, saviour of the Roman state;

Of iron, he the great Oinet, Great in his triumphs, in retirement great ;

And with bim Dares and Titus, &c. And wise Aurelius, in whose well-taught mind

Ver. 196, &c.)
With boundless power unbounded virtue join'd,

There saw I stand on a pillere
His own strict judge, and patron of mankind.
Much suffering heroes next their honours

That was of tinned iron cleere,

The I atin poet Virgyle, claim, Those of less noisy, and less guilty fame,

That hath bore up of a great while Fair Virtue's silent train : supreme of these

The fame of pious Æneas:

And n:'xt him on a pillere was
Here ever shines the godlike Socrates;
He whom ungrateful Athens could expell

Of copper, Venus' clerke Ovide,

'That hath sowen wondrous wide At all times just, but when he sign’d the shell : Here his abode the inartyr'd Phocion claims,

The great god of love's fanicWith Agis, not the last of Spartan names:

Tho saw I on a pillere by

Of iron wrolight full sternly,
Unconquer'd Cato shows the wound lie tore,
And Brutus his ill genius meets no more.

The great poet Dan Lucan,
That on his shoulders bore up then

As hye as that I might see,

The fame of Julius and Pompee.
Ver. 132. The wall in lustre, &c.]

And next him on a pillere stode
It sh-ne lighter than a glass,

Of sulphure, like as he were wode,
And wada well inore than it was,

Dan Claudian, sotle for to tell,
As kind of thing Fame is.

That bare up all the fame of Hell, &c.

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