1821 .] 
readers, we shall now-give Mr. Lamb’s 
translation of it. 
ON THE DEATH OF THE SPARROW. 
Mourn all ye loves and graces ; mourn, 
Ye wits, ye gallants, and ye gay, 
Death from iny fair her bird has torn, 
Her much-lov’d sparrow’s snatch’d 
away. 
Her very eyes she priz’d not so, 
For he was fond, and knew my fair, 
•Well as young girls their mothers know, 
Flew to her breast and nestled there. 
When fluttering round from, place to place, 
He gaily chirp’d to her alone; 
He now that gloomy path must trace, 
Whence Fate permits return to none. 
Accursed shades o’er hell that lower, 
O be my curses on you heard ; 
Ye, that all pretty things devour, 
Have torn from me my pretty bird. 
O evil deed ! O -Sparrow dead 1 
O what a wretch, if thou caust see 
My fair one’s eyes with weeping red, 
And know how much she grieves for 
thee 1 
This translation is sufficiently accu¬ 
rate, but there is very little poetical 
ease or beauty about it. It has been 
imitated perhaps more frequently than 
any other of Catullus’s poems. There 
are said to Ire; thirty imitations of it in 
*5reek, Latin, French, and Italian, to 
which Mr. Lamb refers in a note, in 
which he also mentions the English 
translations of it. 
The version of the Famous Epithala- 
raraun on the Marriage of Manlius and 
Julia, is, we think, as favourable a spe¬ 
cimen as any of Mr. Lamb's talents, 
and we shall therefore transcribe a few 
passages from it. 
O thou, Urania’s Heaven-born son, 
Whose lov’d abode is Helicon ; 
Whose power bestows the virgin’s charms, 
To bless the youthful bridegroom’s arms ; 
O Hymen ! friend to youthful pairs ; 
O Hymen hear our fervent prayers ! 
Around thy brow the chaplet bind. 
Of fragrant marjoram entwined ! 
And bring the veil with crimson dyed, 
The refuge of the blushing bride . 
Come joyous, while thy feet of snow 
With yellow sandals brightly glow ! 
Arouse thee on this happy day ; 
Carol the hymeneal lay : 
Raise in the strain thy silver voice ; 
And in the festal dance rejoice ; 
And brandish high the blissful sign, 
The guiding -torch of flaming pine. 
****** 
«PS f 
Ut) 
Unbar the door, the gates unfold ! 
The bashful virgin comes—behold 
How red the nuptial torches glare; 
How bright they shake their splendid 
hair ! 
Come, gentle bride 1—the warning- day 
Rebukes thy lingering cold delay. 
We w ill not blame thy bashful fears, 
Reluctant step, and gushing tears, 
That chide the swift approach of night, 
To give thy bridegroom all his right. 
Yet come,sweet bride! the waning day 
Rebukes thy lingering cold delay. 
* * * * * * 
Then come, sweet bride ! and bless thy 
spouse. 
And sanction love by nuptial vows. 
At length our friendly numbers hear : 
The torches high their brilliance rear, 
And richly shake their glowing pride, 
Their golden hair-—then come, sweet 
bride ! 
This translation is certainly superior 
to the rest of the volumes, some parts 
of which bear all the marks of school- 
exercises about them. The version of 
Acme and Septimius- is tolerably good. 
ACME AND SEPTIMIUS. 
Septimius said, and fondly pre.-t. 
The dealing Acme to his breast— 
“ My Acme, if I prize not thee 
With love as warm as love can be. 
With passion spurning any fears 
Of growing* faint in length of years, 
Alone may I defenceless stand 
To meet, on Lybi&’s desert sand. 
Or under India’s torrid sky, 
The tawny Lion’s glaring eye '!” 
Love, before who utter’d si ill 
On the left-hand omens ill, 
As he ceas’d his faith to plight, 
Laugh’d propitious on the right. 
Then Acme gently bent her head, 
Kiss’d with those lips of cherry red 
The eyes of the delighted boy 
That swam with glistening floods cf joy , 
And whisper’d as she closely prest— 
a Septimius, soul of Acme’s breast, 
Let all our lives and feelings own 
One lord, one sovereign, Love alone ! 
1 yield to Love, and yield to thee, 
For thou and Love art one to me. 
Though fond thy fervent heart may beat, 
My feelings glow with greater heat, 
And madder flames my bosom melt, 
Than all that thou hast ever felt.” 
Love, before who uttered still 
On the left hand omens ill. 
As she ceas’d her faith to plfgjfl 
Laugh’d propitious on the right. 
Since 
Mr. Lamb's Catullus. 
