160 TRANSLATION OF A GREEK EPITAPH. 



palate ; aye, and of the golden wine fresh from the stately palm, 

 which first we poured in libation to his Indian gods. Alma Venus ! 

 never from the tablets of our memory will be erased the lovely image 

 of the young Ca9ica, with whom, at the soft hour of evening, by the 

 light of her Brazilian moon, whose bright effulgence mocks our paler 

 northern sun, we trod an Indian measure on the banks of the Rio 

 Doce. But this is rhapsody, and must not be. The witchery of old 

 associations must not seduce us from the path of duty memory must 

 rest awhile, while reason is invoked to the rescue of certain of our 

 respected countrymen, who stand in much danger of being deluded 

 to the banks of the Doce, there to be empaled like monkeys by the 

 fierce Botocudos a preventive check which even Malthus in his phi- 

 losophy never dreamt of. In our next we shall have a trifle to say of 

 the Rio Doce Company, and with such an array of force shall we 

 take the field, that it will be but a mere hurrah to send down the 

 shares to their real value, which is simply that of the parchment on 

 which they are printed ! 



TRANSLATION OF A GREEK EPITAPH. 



WEEP not, thou passing stranger, o'er my tomb ; 



No tears I ask, and none requires my doom. 



Around me, when I left the stage of life, 



My children's children bloomed and the same wife 



That charmed my manhood, soothed my riper age, 



And did its cares (to me how few !) assuage. 



Three children saw I in sweet wedlock blest, 



And oft their offspring slumbered on my breast ; 



Nor once did death, nor once did sickness come, 



To mar the sweet tranquillity of home ; 



And when at last my blameless age had run 



Its course, all purely as it had begun, 



Their pious hands, each funeral honour paid, 



Me to that happy land where sleep the good conveyed ! 



ZETA. 



