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TO CECILIA.

[The Lady to whom these lines are addressed is now living, together with her father, and deservedly held in high esteem by all her friends.]

To help the sightless Homer of our land,
A daughter's faithful service was at hand,
Recalling to his ear full many a page
Of ancient wisdom and a classic age;

Blest maiden, who could recompense the care
Of such a father, and his loss repair!

Nor less, Cecilia, do we view in thee

An image true of filial piety;

Whose parent through a dreary length of years
Afflicted sore a double burden bears.

An ear is his with cold obstruction bound,
Dead to the world of harmony and sound;
Eyes lustreless, that never greet the day
Or feel the bright effulgence of her ray :

AD CECILIAM.

Capto lumine maximo poetæ

Dulcem filia præstitit laborem,

Doctam cum senis admoneret aurem

Thesauris sapientiæ legendis.

Felix illa, ter ampliusque felix,

Pro multâ bonitate cui liceret

Tali reddere gratiam parenti.
Nec, Cecilia, tu minora patri
Præstas officia, O fidele nobis
Exemplar pietatis invidendæ.
Multos jam senior laborat annos
Ærumnâ duplici gravique damno:
Ejus nam neque dia lux ocello
Ostendit radium, neque ejus auri
Ullam reddit imaginem loquela :

But for a daughter's love, the same sad gloom
That wraps the senses would the mind entomb.
Thou, fond one, at his side art ever near,
His wants to aid, his solitude to cheer:
A skill is thine, a patience nought can tire,
By finger-speech to commune with thy sire;
By touches light and nimble to convey
Whatever pen could write or tongue could say.
From silent darkness thou hast set him free;
Thou mak'st the deaf to hear, the blind to see.
Thus, ere the Christian breathes his latest sigh,
An Angel to the lonely couch draws nigh,
There, whispering peace and comfort to the breast,
His trouble and his sorrow lulls to rest,

And, earthly mist dispelling from the sight,
The prospect opens of eternal light.

Absque te foret atque amore fido,
Par sensus animumque nox teneret.
Tu solatia, tu levamen ægro

Custos et comes assidens ministras ;

Palmâ tu digitisque! miram enim artem

Contactu varioque mobilique

Exerces, vice functa nunc loquentis,

Nunc lecto recitantis e libello.

Ergo illi taciturnitas, tenebræ

Solvuntur: sonus est in aure surdâ;
Cæco lux patefacta. Sic suprema
Quandocunque pio propinquat hora,
Soli stat super angelus cubili,
Et suavissima pectori susurrans
Luctum et solicitudinem serenat,
Et spes erigit ad beatiores

Pandens æthera januamque cœli.

ITALIA ANTIQUA.

[The greater part of this Ode is taken from one which obtained the Gold Medal at Cambridge.]

Lugere terram quid facit Italam?

Non aura tetro polluit halitu,

Non bruma devastavit agros,

Aut nebulâ malus urget æther:

Non flos in horto, non rosa virginis
Pallescit ori; spirat adhuc amor,

Rident et æstates serenæ

Et placidum sine nube cœlum :

Et sole puro et fluctibus aureis
Ludens ad oras Oceanus salit,

Fontesque non absunt loquaces

Nec tremuli lacuum susurri:

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