With sweet Bromian, long desired, Ulysses. Be silent, ye wild things! Nay, hold your peace, And keep your lips quite close; dare not to breathe, Or spit, or e'en wink, lest ye wake the monster, Until his eye be tortured out with fire. Chorus. Nay, we are silent, and we chaw the air. Ulysses. Come now, and lend a hand to the great stake Within-it is delightfully red hot. Chorus. You then command who first should seize the stake To burn the Cyclops' eye, that all may share In the great enterprise. Semi-Chorus I. We are too few; We cannot at this distance from the door Thrust fire into his eye. Semi-Chorus II. And we just now Have become lame; cannot move hand nor foot. Chorus. The same thing has occurred to us;-our ancles Or ashes in our eyes, I know not whence. And there is dust Ulysses. Cowardly dogs, ye will not aid me, then? Chorus. With pitying my own back and my back-bone, I know a famous Orphic incantation To make the brand stick of its own accord Ulysses. Of old I knew ye thus by nature; now I know ye better.-I will use the aid Of my own comrades-yet though weak of hand The courage of my friends with your blithe words. Hasten and thrust, And parch up to dust, The Etnean hind! Scoop and draw, But beware lest he claw Your limbs near his maw. Cyclops. Ah me! my eye-sight is parched up to cinders. Chorus. What a sweet pæan! sing me that again! Cyclops. Ah me! indeed, what woe has fallen upon me! But, wretched nothings, think ye not to flee Out of this rock; I, standing at the outlet, Will bar the way, and catch you as you pass. Chorus. What are you roaring out, Cyclops? Cyclops. Chorus. For you are wicked. I perith! And besides miserable. Chorus. What, did you fall into the fire when drunk! Chorus. Can be to blame. Why then no one Chorus. Cyclops. I say 'twas Nobody Who blinded me. Why then, you are not blind! Nay, Cyclops. I wish you were as blind as I am. It cannot be that no one made you blind. Cyclops. You jeer me; where, I ask, is Nobody * * Cyclops. It was that stranger ruined me:-the wretch First gave me wine, and then burnt out my eye, For wine is strong and hard to struggle with. Have they escaped, or are they yet within? Chorus. They stand under the darkness of the rock, And cling to it. At my right hand or left? Chorus. Close on your right. Cyclops. Cyclops. Chorus. You have them. Cyclops. Where? Near the rock itself. Oh, misfortune on misfortune! I've crack'd my skull. Cyclops. Not there, although you say so. Cyclops. Where then? Now they escape you there. Not on that side. They creep about you on your left. Cyclops. Ah! I am mocked! They jeer me in my ills. I keep with care this body of Ulysses. Far from you Cyclops. What do you say? You proffer a new name. A full revenge for your unnatural feast; I should have done ill to have burned down Troy, And not revenged the murder of my comrades. Cyclops. Ai ai! the ancient oracle is accomplished; It said that I should have my eye-sight blinded To mine own land, o'er the Sicilian wave. Cyclops. Not so, if whelming you with this huge stono I can crush you and all your men together; I will descend upon the shore, though blind, Groping my way adown the steep ravine. Chorus. And we, the shipmates of Ulysses now, Will serve our Bacchus all our happy lives. EPIGRAMS. SPIRIT OF PLATO. FROM THE GREEK. EAGLE! why Soarest thou above that tomb? Floatest thou? I am the image of swift Plato's spirit, FROM THE GREEK. A MAN who was about to hang himself, TO STELLA. FROM PLATO. THOU wert the morning star among the living, Now, having died, thou art as Hesperus, giving FROM PLATO. KISSING Helena, together With my kiss, my soul beside it Came to my lips, and there I kept it,- SONNETS FROM THE GREEK OF MOSCHUS. Τὰν ὅλα τὰν γλαυκὰν ὅταν ωνεμος άτρεμα βάλλη, κ. τ. λ. I. WHEN winds that move not its calm surface sweep II. PAN loved his neighbour Echo-but that child The bright nymph Lyda-and so the three went weeping. The Satyr, Lyda-and thus love consumed them.— SONNET FROM THE ITALIAN OF DANTE DANTE ALIGHIERI TO GUIDO CAVALCANTI. GUIDO, I would that Lappo, thou, and I, Led by some strong enchantment, might ascend With winds at will where'er our thoughts might wend, So that no change, nor any evil chance, Should mar our joyous voyage; but it might be, Between our hearts their strict community; Companions of our wandering, and would grace SCENES FROM THE MAGICO PRODIGIOSO OF CALDERON. CYPRIAN as a Student; CLARIN and Moscon as poor Scholars, with books. Cyprian. In the sweet solitude of this calm place, And flowers and undergrowth of odorous plants, To me are ever best society. And whilst with glorious festival and song Of a proud temple to great Jupiter, And bears his image in loud jubilee To its new shrine, I would consume what still Go and enjoy the festival; it will You, my friends, Be worth the labour, and return for me When the sun seeks its grave among the billows, Moscon. I cannot bring my mind, |