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quam mox pede candido Nocturnis saliam Mænas in orgiis,

Jactans roscidam in æthera Cervicem; veluti pulsa virentibus

Mollis dámula pascuis,
Circumjecta super cum levis arduo

Saltu retia fugerit;
At clamore canes urgeat insequens

Venator ; ruat illa vi Ventorum citior per cava vallium,

Et spissâ nemorum comâ Desertisque volans gaudeat aviis ?

Hoc orem Superos; nihil Hôc majus dederint, quam caput hosticum

Victrici ut teneam manu : Virtutis merito nil pretiosius.

Segnes, at memores tamen
Irarum Superi ; serius ocyus

Ultores caput impium
Captant insidiis, supplicio premunt.

Do not thou deem thyself wiser than the laws;
From the great God they flow, from th' Almighty Cause.

It costs not much to fear,
To honour and revere,
What custom hath received,
What man hath aye believed,
Whate'er his essence be,

The name of Deity.
Who his foe vanquishes, he is blest indeed,
He is wise, God-beloved : sweet is honour's meed.


Blest is he, who escaped from a troubled sea,
Gains the port, after toil finds security.

The fates to human kind
Have different dooms assign'd
Some stand, while others fall:
Yet hope remains to all,
Which oft success portends,

Oft in delusion ends :
But of all happiness, his the most I praise,
Who can win present joy from the passing days.

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Divis credere tutius :

Numen, quicquid id est, sæcla per omnia

Lex naturaque consecrat: His parere decet; plus sapere est furor.

Felix, post mare turbidum
Quem portus recipit, quem recreat quies

Victis grata laboribus.
Est ut sorte bonâ vir superet virum;

spes usque

oriens nova Nunc fructus habeat, nunc cadat irrita :

Cunctis ille beatior, Cui jucundi aliquid quæque ferat dies.


Old M. Three score and ten I can remember well;
Within the volume of which time I have seen
Hours dreadful and things strange ; but this sore night
Hath trifled former knowings.

Ah, good father,
Thou seest the heavens, as troubled with man's act,
Threaten his bloody stage: by the clock 'tis day,
And yet dark night strangles the travelling lamp.
Is it night's predominance, or the day's shame,
That darkness does the face of earth intomb,
When living light should kiss it?
Old M.

'Tis unnatural,
E’en like the deed that's done. On Tuesday last
A falcon, towering in her pride of place,
Was by a mousing owl hawk'd at and kill'd.
Rosse. And Duncan's horses, (a thing most strange and

certain) Beauteous and swift, the minions of their race, Turn'd wild in nature, broke their stalls, flung out,


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ΓΕΡ. Εγώ μεν εξήκοντα και δέχ ηλίου

τροπάς κατείδον, δεινά τ' εν μέσω χρόνω θαύμαστά τέργα · τήνδε δ' ευφρόνην πάρα

άπαντα τάλλα λήρος. ΡΟΣΣ.

Ούχ οράς, γέρον,
& νύν ταραχθείς φοινίω βροτών γένει
αιθήρ απειλεί και νυξ γαρ εν μεσημβρία
μέλαιν απάγχει την οδοιπόρον φλόγα.
ή νυξ κρατεί τόδ' ; ή πρόσωπον ημέρας
αιδώς σκότω τύμβευσεν, ευτέ νιν κύσαι

προσήκεν αγνον φώς; ΓΕΡ.

Υπερφυή μεν ούν, όμοια τους πραχθείσι. καί τιν' άρτι δη

ကို κίρκον μέσον κατ' αιθέρ αιωρούμενον

γλαυξ ευτελής μάρψασόνυξιν ώλεσεν. “ΡΟΣΣ. πωλοί τ' άνακτος, (ουδ' απιστήσαι σε χρή,)

καλοί, ποδάρκεις, άνθος έκκριτον γένους,
έξω σταθμών ερρηξαν ήγριωμένοι,

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