Stat molae gelatus axis, templa baccae vestiunt : Viscus ex tigno culinae pendulus curam fugat: Mulctra glacie stridet, inqve labitur pubes lacu : Merula subvolat fenestrae : flabra phui frigent, fremunt.
Marcus exit aucupatum; ligna Dama qvaeritans Efflat auras in gelatas spiritum fumo parem;
Thrax secat glaciem iuvencis; tussiunt pueri et senes; Marcet orbe sol rubente; flabra phui frigent, fremunt.
Sit mihi, qva graditur Lalage mea, saepe vagari, Qvom latebras mulcet vesperis alma qvies; Sit mihi mellitam Lalages audire loqvelam; Juppiter, invideam non tibi regna poli.
Haeret Amor semper vivitqve in pectore nostro, Ceu pius in cari ianitor aede dei.
Spes abeat nobis, abeat fugitiva Voluptas:
Restat adhuc certo foedere iunctus Amor.
Horatius Cocles.
When the oldest cask is opened, And the largest lamp is lit;
When the chestnuts glow in the embers, And the kid turns on the spit; When young and old in circle Around the firebrands close; When the girls are weaving baskets, And the lads are shaping bows; When the goodman mends his armour, And trims his helmet's plume; When the goodwife's shuttle merrily Goes flashing through the loom; With weeping and with laughter Still is the story told,
How well Horatius kept the bridge
In the brave days of old.
Gentle Peace, whose wand of power Lulls to slumber woe and pain,
In affliction's sternest hour
Thou canst soothe the wildered brain.
Here I wander tempest-driven,
Seeking comfort, seeking rest;
Child of Heaven,
Glide, O glide into my breast!
Qvom promta Bacchi est interior nota, Fulgetqve lampas grandior, et nuces Vivis inardescunt favillis
Castaneae, verubusqve pingvis
Torqvetur hoedus, qvom iuvenes focum Festa corona cum senibus fovent, Virgisqve cistellas puellae
Deproperant, pueriqve formant
Arcus aduncos: qvom reparat pater Arma, et minacis cornua cassidis Inflectit, et matrona fuso
Torta trahit radiante pensa,
Flentes recensent non sine risubus Qvanta ille custos pontis Horatius Virtutis antiqvae futuris
Ediderit documenta seclis.
Caeli progenies, malas
Delenire potens solicitudines,
Et, qvo mens magis angitur,
Maiori recreare alma levamine,
Me tot respice taediis
Fessum: qvid faciunt omnia luctubus Alternantia gaudia?
O subrepe meo, grata Qvies, sinu.
There was a Poet, whose untimely tomb No human hands with pious reverence rear'd, But the charm'd eddies of autumnal winds Built o'er his mouldering bones a pyramid Of mouldering leaves in the waste wilderness: A lovely youth! No mourning maiden deck'd With weeping flowers, or votive cypress wreath, The lone couch of his everlasting sleep: Gentle, and brave, and generous, no lorn bard Breathed o'er his dark fate one melodious sigh: He lived, he died, he sung in solitude.
Strangers have wept to hear his passionate notes; And virgins, as unknown he past, have sigh'd And wasted for fond love of his wild eyes. The fire of those soft orbs has ceased to burn, And Silence, too enamour'd of that voice, Locks its mute music in her rugged cell.
Inscription for a Lighthouse.
Far in the bosom of the deep,
O'er these wild shelves my watch I keep; A ruddy gem of changeful light Bound on the dusky brow of night: The seaman bids my lustre hail,
And scorns to strike his timorous sail.
Vatem illum rapuit mors inmatura, sepulcroqve Invidere homines, grati pietate laboris: Sed desiderio fervens divinitus aura
Desertum celebravit agrum, marcentiaqve ossa Frondibus auctumni marcente instruxit acervo. Ah pulcer iuvenis! non virgo maesta cupressum Votivam inspersit neque flores rore madentes, Solus ubi aeterna sopitus nocte iacebas. Tam dulcem periisse virum fortemqve bonumqve Debita non socius rupit suspiria vates; Ille canens idem natus moriensqve fefellit. Ut stetit ut flevit ferventes advena cantus Aure bibens, visoqve semel, dum praeterit, illo Flagrantes oculorum aestus mirata puella Deperit, et lento ignoti tabescit amore.
Nunc teneram longae flammam exstinxere tenebrae, Lumina diriguere, et in ipsa voce laborans
Includit taciturna cavo Proserpina saxo.
Longinqvo procul in maris recessu Horrentem excubias ago per oram, Ceu fulget vario colore gemma Furvis crinibus implicata Noctis; Me si navita viderit rubentem, Non curat timidum inligare velum. W. G. C.
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