TRANSLATION FROM THE MEDEA OF

EURIPIDES.

WHEN fierce conflicting passions urge
The breast where love is wont to glow,
What mind can stem the stormy surge,
Which rolls the tide of human woe?
The hope of praise, the dread of shame,

Can rouse the tortured breast no more;
The wild desire, the guilty flame,
Absorbs each wish it felt before.

But if affection gently thrills

The soul by purer dreams possest,
The pleasing balm of mortal ills

In love can soothe the aching breast:

If thus thou comest in disguise,

Fair Venus! from thy native heaven,

What heart unfeeling would despise

The sweetest boon the gods have given?

But never from thy golden bow

May I beneath the shaft expire!
Whose creeping venom, sure and slow,
Awakes an all-consuming fire:
Ye racking doubts! ye jealous fears!
With others wage internal war;
Repentance, source of future tears,
From me be ever distant far!

May no distracting thoughts destroy
The holy calm of sacred love!
May all the hours be winged with joy,
Which hover faithful hearts above!
Fair Venus! on thy myrtle shrine

May I with some fond lover sigh, Whose heart may mingle pure with mineWith me to live, with me to die!

My native soil! beloved before,
Now dearer as my peaceful home,
Ne'er may I quit thy rocky shore,
A hapless banished wretch to roam!
This very day, this very hour,

May I resign this fleeting breath!
Nor quit my silent humble bower;
A doom to me far worse than death.

Have I not heard the exile's sigh,
And seen the exile's silent tear,
Through distant climes condemned to fly
A pensive weary wanderer here?
Ah! hapless dame! no sire bewails,

No friend thy wretched fate deplores,

No kindred voice with rapture hails
Thy steps within a stranger's doors.

Perish the fiend whose iron heart,

To fair affection's truth unknown, Bids her he fondly loved depart, Unpitied, helpless, and alone;

Who ne'er unlocks with silver key

-

The milder treasures of his soul, --
May such a friend be far from me,

And ocean's storms between us roll.

THOUGHTS

SUGGESTED BY A COLLEGE EXAMINATION.

HIGH in the midst, surrounded by his peers,
MAGNUS his ample front sublime uprears:
Placed on his chair of state, he seems a god,
While Sophs and Freshmen tremble at his nod.
As all around sit wrapt in speechless gloom,
His voice in thunder shakes the sounding dome;
Denouncing dire reproach to luckless fools,
Unskilled to plod in mathematic rules.

Happy the youth in Euclid's axioms tried,
Though little versed in any art beside;
Who, scarcely skilled in English line to pen,
Scans Attic metres with a critic's ken.

What, though he knows not how his fathers bled,
When civil discord piled the fields with dead,
When Edward bade his conquering bands advance,
Or Henry trampled on the crest of France;
Though marvelling at the name of Magna Charta,
Yet well he recollects the laws of Sparta;

Can tell what edicts sage Lycurgus made, While Blackstone's on the shelf neglected laid; Of Grecian dramas vaunts the deathless fame, Of Avon's bard remembering scarce the name.

Such is the youth whose scientific pate
Class-honors, medals, fellowships, await;
Or even, perhaps, the declamation prize,
If to such glorious height he lifts his eyes.
But, lo! no common orator can hope
The envied silver cup within his scope.
Not that our heads much eloquence require,
Th' ATHENIAN's glowing style, or Tully's fire.

A manner clear or warm is useless, since
We do not try by speaking to convince.
Be other orators of pleasing proud:

We speak to please ourselves, not move the crowd: Our gravity prefers the muttering tone,

A proper mixture of the squeak and groan:

No borrowed grace of action must be seen;

The slightest motion would displease the Dean; While every staring graduate would prate Against what he could never imitate.

The man who hopes t' obtain the promised cup Must in one posture stand, and ne'er look up; Nor stop, but rattle over every word

Not matter what, so it can not be heard.

Thus let him hurry on, nor think to rest;

Who speaks the fastest's sure to speak the best; Who utters most within the shortest space,

May safely hope to win the wordy race.

The sons of science these, who, thus repaid, Linger in ease in Granta's sluggish shade; Where on Cam's sedgy banks supine they lie Unknown- unhonored live, unwept-for die: Dull as the pictures which adorn their halls, They think all learning fixed within their walls: In manners rude, in foolish forms precise,

All modern arts affecting to despise ;

Yet prizing BENTLEY'S, BRUNCK's, or PORSON'S note, More than the verse on which the critic wrote:

Vain as their honors, heavy as their ale,

Sad as their wit, and tedious as their tale;
To friendship dead, though not untaught to feel
When Self and Church demand a bigot zeal.
With eager haste they court the lord of power,
Whether 'tis PITT or PETTY rules the hour;
To him with suppliant smiles they bend the head,
While distant mitres to their eyes are spread.
But should a storm o'erwhelm him with disgrace,
They'd fly to seek the next who filled his place.
Such are the men who learning's treasures guard;
Such is their practice, such is their reward!
This much, at least, we may presume to say
The premium can't exceed the price they pay.