42 | “Original Poetry. 
*Midst Doris’ plains, see mantles Gnidus 
fair, 
©n which the Gods bestow'd their earfest 
care, 
E’er tis adorn’d with mild eternal spring, 
Ever flowers blossom, and e’er linnets sing 5 
With fertile wealth e’er smiles the happy 
ground, 
Each wish is humour’d, is each desire 
crown’d. 
Flocks e’er innumerous o’er the plains are 
seen, 
And frisk and wanton on the verdant green : 
The whisp’ring breezes seem alone to blow, 
To make all Nature with luxuriance glow ; 
Alone the flow’rs their brightest beauties 
yield, ’ 
To breathe their perfume o’er the enamel’d 
field. 
Here warbling choristers attune their song, 
Trees seem list’ning, as they their notes pro- 
long: . ; 
And oft, you'd say, the woeds themselves 
they sing; , 
And with one soft harmonious echo ring. 
E’er limpid streams remurmur thro’ the scen¢, 
While cooling zephyrs play along the green: 
The Sun’s mild lustre beanis on all around, 
See flowers rise, and verduresdeck the ground. 
‘The, air tea breathes with true voluptuous 
fire, : y 
The sense to charm, and all the soul. in- 
spire*™, 
Bigods, May, 1808. 
sectoral ss 
TRANSLATION OF THE)FIRS/T ELEGY 
OF TIBULLUS. 
L=t others grasp of shining gold a heap, 
Or their well-cultivated fields increase } 
Altho’ the trampet’s ¢lanyor banish sleep, 
And iears of neighbouring foes allow”no 
peace. 
Me Poverty to idler scenes confines, 
While’ my small hearth illumes a feeble 
blaze ; 
Content with care to train my cufling vines, 
And with nice hand the glowing apple raise. 
Come smiling Hope,a plenteous harvest yield, 
And bid my racy wines in streams o’erflow 3 
Low I adore the land-mark of the field; 
Over highway stone, where votive chaplets 
blow. 
The choicest fruits the early year can give, 
Thou God of rural industry, be thine ; 
Ceres a spiky crownet shall receive 
OF wheat-ears form’d, an off’ring.at her 
shrine. 
Plac’d where the garden's liberal storés 
abound,’ 
Priapus with his hook the birds shall scare; 
Ye Lares too, where plenty once was found, 
Tho? steril now, display your kindest care. 
* Wair ne s'y respire qwavec Ja-voluptés 
[Aug. 1, 
A calf to bless my numerous herds then bled, 
Now a small lamb my tribute must dis- 
charge 5 
Yet o’er the pealing crowd your bounties 
shed, 
A flowing vintage, and a harvest large. 
If my low state shou’d fail content to give, 
No better wou’d more distant fields supply ; 
But I was born in rural ehades to live, 
‘* And listen to the brook that babbles by.” 
Nor wou'd I deem it shame the prong to bear, 
And goad the ling'rig oxen on their way, 
To take the lamb deserted to my care, 
Or kidling when its heedless dam’s astray. 
From my small flock ye thieves, ye wolves 
retrain, 
Let larger herds your depredations rue 5 
Yearly I purify my shepherd swain, 
And gentle Pales with new milk bedew. 
Attend ye gods, nor scorn our willing dues, 
From frugal board, and earthen dishes paid, 
And bowls, such as our swains are wont to 
use, 
Of plastic clay by their fore-fathers made. 
No parents’ gather’d wealth, no grandsires’ 
hoards ‘ 
Task, enough my little farm bestows ; 
Enough the shelter that my roof affords, 
And of m* accustom’d "bed the sweet ree 
pose. 
And there reclin’d to hear the tempest roxn, 
Securely resting on my fair one’s breast, 
And sleep while wintry storms their torrents 
pour, A 
Lull’d by the pattering rain tu balmy rest. 
Be this my lot, let those who plough the seas, 
And brave the storm be*rich, it is their due; 
Perish the glittering gold, the diamond’s blaze, 
Ere one fair weeping maid my deeds shalt 
rué. °° 
War, war, be thine, by land or on the main, 
May hostile spoils, my friend, thy hall 
adorn 3 
Icrouch beneath my much-loy’d.fair one’s 
chain, , 
And sit and watch th’ unyielding door for- 
Jorn, 
With thee, my Delia, I cou’d fame despise, 
And smile when call’d inactive or supine; 
Wouldst thou attend to close my dying eyes, 
And clasp my clammy clay-cold hand ia 
thine. : 
When on the bier my last sad relics rest, 
Kisses and.tears shall speak my Delia's 
moan j; wa 
Deeply she'll grieve, for in her gentle breast 
Dwell not the nerve of steel, the heart of 
stone, ' 
With tearful eyes each youth my tomb shall 
‘ leave, ©- 
With tearful eyes each virgin home repair; 
Yet wound me not sweet maiden inthe grave, 
Thy roseate cheeks thy glossy ringlets 
Spare. , 
But now, while fate allows, let Love preside 5 
Death, wrapt ia murky clouds pujsues his 
wa 
> Te 
, 
/ 
