588 JAMES CLERK MAXWELL. 



Nothing will come to the greedy hands of your spendthrift 

 successor 



Which you have given away. 



When you are gone to the grave, and Minos, sitting in judg- 

 ment, 



Utters your terrible doom, 



Neither your rank nor your talents will bring you to life, 

 Torquatus, 



Nor will affection avail ; 

 Even the chaste Hippolytus was not released by Diana 



From the infernal abyss, 



Nor could Theseus break from his friend the rewards of 

 presumption 



Which the stern monarch imposed. 



HOE., OD. in. 9. 1846. 

 (In the metre of the original?) 



Horace. 



WHILE I was your beloved one, 



And while no other youth threw his fond arms around 



Your white neck so easily, 

 Than the King of the world I was far happier. 



Lydia. 



While you loved not another one, 

 While you did not prefer Chloe to Lydia, 



I then thought myself happier 

 Than the mother of Home, great Ehea Silvia. 



Horace. 



Thracian Chloe now governs me, 



She can merrily sing, playing the cithara ; 



I'd not scruple to die for her, 

 If the Implacable spared Chloe, the auburn haired. 



