̓Απὸ βαλβίδων τοιόνδ ̓ ἔλαχεν
δρόμον ̓Αλκείδας, ἀταλᾶς ἅβας
ταχὺ τέρμ ̓ ἀνύσας· ἦν δ ̓ ἄρ ̓ ὁ μέλλων
θεὸς ἐξ ἀρχᾶς κρεῖσσόν τι βροτοῦ·
τί γάρ, ὅντινα πῆμ ̓ ἐπιμαστίδιον
μόχθοι τ ̓ ἐλόχων χώ κότος Ἥρας·
καί νιν Μοίραις πρῶτ ̓ ἀντίπαλον
σπάργαν ̓ ἐδέρχθη
νεαρὸν νεαραῖς σύριγμ ̓ ὄφεων
χερσὶ δαμάζονθ'· ὧδε νεογνὸς
δείξας θεὸς ὤν, ὧδ ̓ ὑψίβατον
Ζηνὸς προσέβα χρόνιος θάκημ
λῆμα κατ' αἶσαν μέγ' ἐλέγχει.
Forte ego narcissum, nec pulcrior adfuit alter,
Vidi laeta novo pandere serta die.
Fronte super rivum gracili pendebat; imago
In liqvido pendens est iterata sinu.
Sole tamen medio floris marcere iuventas
Coeperat, et tremulo murmure lympha qveri.
Et vergente die male provida serta petenti
Nulla venustatis signa prioris erant.
Sed rosa, non alios Phoebi passura calores,
In magis umbrosa se reserarat humo.
Est ea suavis adhuc, et basia provocat aurae,
Qvae tenet obscurum, tutior inde, locum.
The Coward Lover.
Faint amorist! What, dost thou think
To taste Love's honey, and not drink
One drop of gall? or to devour
A world of sweet, and taste no sour?
Dost thou ever think to enter
Th' Elysian fields, that dar'st not venture
In Charon's barge? A lover's mind
Must use to sail with every wind.
Sic tibi, segnis amans, qvod dulcia tingat acerbis,
Felle qvod inficiat mella, cavetur Amor?
Elysium speras, et abhorres lintre Charontis?
Nulla pati non sit flabra paratus amans.
Beneath thy all-directing nod
Both worlds and worms are equal, God.
Thy hand the comet's orbit drew,
And lighted yonder glowworm too.
Thou didst the dome of heaven build up,
And form yon snowdrop's silver cup.
Rerum summe Parens, tuae bilances
Mundos lege pari librantqve vermes.
Quae scripsit manus orbitam cometae,
Et lampyridi tradidit lucernam.
Caeli tu rutilum lacunar idem
Et lili niveam creas corollam.
The world is grown old, and her pleasures are past;
The world is grown old, and her form may not last ;
The world is grown old, and trembles for fear:
For sorrows abound, and judgment is near.
The sun in the heaven is languid and pale,
And feeble and few are the fruits of the vale ;
And the hearts of the nations fail them for fear:
For the world is grown old, and judgment is near.
The king on his throne, the bride in her bower,
The children of pleasure, all feel the sad hour;
The roses are faded, and tasteless the cheer:
For the world is grown old, and judgment is near.
The world is grown old: but should we complain,
Who have tried her, and know that her promise is vain?
Our heart is in heaven, our home is not here,
And we look for our crown when judgment is near.
The thorny paths of life awhile she trod,
Then gently closed her eyes, and saw her God.
Consenuit tellus fugitivaqve gaudia ponit ;
Consenuit mundi non iam durabilis ordo,
Consenuit, vastoqve omnis terrore tremiscit,
Dum vis iudicio crescit veniente dolorum.
Pallidus adtonito langvescit in aethere Titan ;
Vallis habet tenui minuentes ubere fructus;
Horrescunt gentes, depressae corda timore,
Qvod nunc iudicium mundo canente propinqvat.
In solio princeps, sub amoeno tegmine nupta,
Gaudia deponunt: maeret deiecta Voluptas;
Deperiere rosae; marcent Bacchusqve Ceresqve,
Iudicium mundo qvom iam canente propinqvet.
Consenuit mundus; qvid nos, pia corda, qveramur,
Gnara cohors vitae, nec rebus credula vanis ?
Qveis caelum cordi est, qveis non terrestria tecta,
Nobis iudicio dat spes veniente coronam.
Experta vitae consitum spinis iter
Clausit tenellum lumen et vidit Deum.
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