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His shivering limbs the embers warm.
And now reviving from the storm,
Scarce had he felt his wonted glow,
Than swift he seized his slender bow;
"I fain would know, my gentle host,'
He cried, if this its strength has lost;
I fear, relax'd with midnight dews,
The strings their former aid refuse :'
With poison tipt, his arrow flies,
Deep in my tortured heart it lies;
Then loud the joyous urchin laugh’d,
• My bow can still impel the shaft;
"Tis firmly fix'd, thy sighs reveal it;
Say, courteous host, canst thou not feel it?'


From the Prometheus Vinctus of Æschylus. GREAT Jove, to whose almighty throne

Both Gods and mortals homage pay,
Ne'er may my soul thy power disown,

Thy dread behests ne'er disobey.
Oft shall the sacred victim fall,
In sea-girt Ocean's mossy hall;

My voice shall raise no impious strain,
'Gainst him who rules the sky and azure main.

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How different now thy joyless fate,

Since first Hesione thy bride,
When placed aloft in godlike state,

The blushing beauty by thy side;
Thou sat’st while reverend Ocean smiled,
And mirthful strains the hours beguiled;

The Nymphs and Tritons danced around, Nor yet thy doom was fix'd, nor Jove relentless


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A Paraphrase from the Æneid, Lib. ix. Nisus, the guardian of the portal, stood, Eager to gild his arms with hostile blood; Well skill'd in fight the quivering lance to wield, Or pour his arrows through th'embattled field: From Ida torn, he left his sylvan cave, And sought a foreign home, a distant grave; To watch the movements of the Daunian host With him Euryalus sustains the post: No lovelier mien adorn’d the ranks of Troy, And beardless bloom yet graced the gallant boy; Though few the seasons of his youthful life, As yet a novice in the martial strife, 'Twas his, with beauty, valour's gifts to share, A soul heroic, as his form was fair; These burn with one pure flame of generous love, In peace, in war united, still they move; Friendship and glory form their joint reward : And, now combined, they hold their nightly guard. •What God,' exclaimed the first, “instils this

fire ? Or, in itself a God, what great desire ? My labouring soul, with anxious thought oppress’d, Abhors this station of inglorious rest; The love of fame with this can ill accord, Be't mine to seek for glory with my sword. Seest thou yon camp, with torches twinkling dim, Where drunken slumbers wrap each lazy limb ? Where confidence and ease the watch disdain, And drowsy silence holds her sable reign? Then hear my thought :-In deep and sullen grief Our troops and leaders mourn their absent chief;

Now could the gifts and promised prize be thine
(The deed, the danger, and the fame be mine);
Were this decreed-beneath yon rising mound,
Methinks, an easy path perchance were found;
Which past, I speed my way to Pallas' walls,
And lead Æneas from Evander's halls.'
With equal ardour fired, and warlike joy,
His glowing friend address’d the Dardan boy,
• These deeds, my Nisus, shalt thou dare alone?
Must all the fame, the peril be thine own?
Am I by thee despised, and left afar,
As one unfit to share the toils of war?
Not thus his son the great Opheltes taught,
Not thus my sire in Argive combats fought;
Not thus, when Ilion fell by heavenly hate,
I tracked Æneas through the walks of fate;
Thou know'st my deeds, my breast devoid of fear,
And hostile life-drops dim my gory spear;
Here is a soul, with hope immortal burns,
And life, ignoble life, for glory spurns ;
Fame, fame, is cheaply earn’d hy fleeting breath,
The price of honour is the sleep of death.'
Then Nisus,—- Calm thy bosom's fond alarms,
Thy heart beats fiercely to the din of arms;
I swear by him who fills Olympus' throne,
More dear thy worth and valour than my own!

may I triumph, as I speak the truth,
And clasp again the comrade of my youth !
But should I fall; and he who dares advance
Through hostile legions, must abide by chance;
If some Rutulian arm, with adverse blow,
Should lay the friend who ever loved thee low;
Live thou, such beauties I would fain preserve,
Thy budding years a lengthen’d term deserve;
When humbled in the dust, let some one be,
Whose gentle eyes will shed one tear for me;

Whose manly arm may snatch me back by force,
Or wealth redeem from foes my captive corse;
Or, if my destiny these last deny,
If in the spoiler's power my ashes lie;
Thy pious care may raise a simple tomb,
To mark thy love, and signalize my doom.
Why should thy doating wretched mother weep
Her only boy, reclined in endless sleep?
Who, for thy sake, the tempest's fury dared,
Who, for thy sake, war's deadly peril shared;
Who braved what woman never braved before,
And left her native, for the Latian shore.'
In vain you damp the ardour of my soul,'
Replied Euryalus, 'it scorns control!
Hence, let us haste ;'—their brother guards arose,
Roused by their call, nor court again repose;
The pair, buoy'd up on hope's exulting wing,
Their stations leave, and speed to seek the king.

Now o'er the earth a solemn stillness ran,
And lull'd alike the cares of brute and man;
Save where the Dardan leaders nightly hold
Alternate converse, and their plans unfold;
On one great point the council are agreed,
Om instant message to their prince decreed;
Each leaned upon the lance he well could wield,
And poised with easy arm, his ancient shield;
When Nisus, and his friend, their leave request
To offer something to their high behest.
With anxious tremors, yet unawed by fear,
The faithful pair before the throne appear;
Iulus greets them; at his kind command,
The elder first address’d the hoary band.
With patience,' (thus Hyrtacides began),

Attend, nor judge from youth our humble plan; Where yonder beacon's half expiring beam, Our slumbering foes of future conquest dream,


Nor heed that we a secret path' have tracea, Evi
Between the ocean and the portal placed :
Beneath the covert of the blackening smoke,
Whose shade securely our design will cloak!
If you, ye chiefs, and fortune, will allow,
We'll bend our course to yonder mountain's brow,
Where Pallas' walls at distance meet the sight,
Seen o'er the glade, when not obscured by night
Then shall Æneas, in his pride return,
While hostile matrons raise their offspring's urn;
And Latian spoils and purpled heaps of dead,
Shall mark the havoc of our hero's treador
Such is our purpose, not unknown the way, in de
Where yonder torrent's devious waters stray;
Oft have we seen, when hunting by the stream,
The distant spires above the valleys gleam.'

Mature in years, for sober wisdom fam’d,
Moved by the speech, Alethes here exclaim'd,
• Ye parent Gods! who rule the fate of Troy,
Still dwells the Dardan spirit in the boyz ,
When minds like these in striplings thus ye raise,
Yours is the godlike act, be yours the praise ;
In gallant youth, my fainting hopes revive,
And Ilion's wonted glories still survive.
Then, in his warm embrace the boys be pressid,
And, quivering, strain’d them to his aged breast;a
With tears the burning cheek of each bedew'd, v
And, sobbing, thus his first discourse renew'd;
• What gift, my countrymen, what martial prize 1
Can we bestow, which you may not despise?,
Our deities the first best boon have given, men
Internal virtues are the gift of Heaven, Sa 435
What poor rewards can bless your deeds on earth, 1
Doubtless await such young, exalted worth; ST
Æneas and Ascanius shall combine,
To yield applause, far, far surpassing mine.'

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