466 
OVID tro PERILLA. 
TRANSLATED FROM THE LATIN. 
G PEED hence, my letter, oh! speed hence, 
and bear 
Safe to Perilla’s breast a father’s care. 
Or thou wilt find her rapt in converse sweet 
With her lov’d mother in some blest retreat, 
Or deeply pensive in secluded oowers 
Culling bright wreaths and gay Parnassian 
flowers : 
Whate’er her task, she'll leave that task 
for thee, 
And ask at once a thousand times of me. 
Tell ker I live, but, so that life’s a load, 
All tasteless of the balm by time bestow’d: 
Yet that I woo the obnoxious Muse again, 
And seek to lose me in th’ alternate strain. 
Say too, with aught of her accustom’d fire, 
Does my Perilla sweep the Grecian Iyre? 
For nature, lavish of her gifts to you, 
Gave beauty, chastity, and genius tuo. 
This last to the Castalian springs I led, 
Lest its rich essence from. ‘the vein had fied; 
Pruned the young blossom in thy virgin 
years, 
And bade it quicken with the fruit it bears: 
Thes, if that ardour in thy breast remains, 
Thy harp shall yield to none but Lesbian 
strains. 
But ah! I fear the gloom my fate inspires, 
Chills the warm thouglit, and damps the ri- 
sing fires: 
Sad with the memory of thy father’s woe, 
Say, less energic do thy numbers flow ? 
While Heaven allowed, the pleasing task 
was mine 
To read thee, as I wrote, each polished line ; 
©r pause upon thy verse with anxious loves 
Or, if you Iciter’d, bid the blush reprove. 
Haply, because my books have injur’d me, 
Thy iavourite studies are abjur’d by thee ; 
Banish the fear, only beware thy Jay 
Teach frail weak woman, mor to love nor 
stray: 
Away with sloth, the dull idea epurn, 
And to thy sacred toils, dear maid, return. 
A day shali come, that lovely face of thine 
To grim old age its reses must resign 3 
‘That form, which now so delicate appears, 
Stoop down, enfeebled with a weight of years 5 
And when £ she once was fair? young men 
repeat, 
Thoult weep, and call the locking-glass a 
cheat. 
Tho’ worthy thou of an exhaustless store, 
‘Thy wealth is moderate, yet suppose it more 5 
Fortune at pleasure gives and takes away, 
And Crezus turns au Irus in a day.* 
* Or ‘¢ Cresus becomes an Irus in a day :” 
but we then throw ‘away the conjunction for 
the sake of this word, which is, I think,. 
sacrificing the elegance of the couplet; at 
the same time, I do not much approve of 
turn, as here made use of. The Latin line 
runs thus: 
Ivua et est subito, qui edo Croesus erate 
Original Poetry. 
[June 1}, 
But why with vulgar truths detain thine eas 
Our souls excepted, all is mortal here. 
Depriv’d at once of country, home, and you, 
Robb’d of all man can take, your father views 
His mind is left him still to soothe his care, 
The power of Cesar was un’vailing there! 
And, when this frail outside shall be no 
more, 
Beyond the grave his deathless name shall 
soar, 
Long as proud Rome from her seven hills 
shall see 
The vassal universe on bended knee. 
Thou too, my girl, whom happier leisure 
waits, 
Of such a noble spoil defraud the Fates. 
—ia 
SONNET, 
ON READING OF THE DEATH OF HAYDN, 
FATHER of modern music! thy sweet 
strain 
Has reach’d its final pausem-a pause of 
woe ! 
No mere shalt thou melodious hush the main; 
No more command the frozen heart to 
glow! 
No more, from thy full fraught and flowing 
vein 
Of richest harmony, the tide shall flow: 
Thy softest strains now strike the ear with 
pain, 
d fill the wintry heart with dirgeful woe. 
St “ike the deep chords! ye minstrels of his 
train, 
And bid the saddest sounds of sorrow flow% 
Alas! unstrung the lyre, and hush’d the 
stiain.— 
Ah! now, round Haydn’s grave the wild 
winds blow ! 
Still shall ascending Hope sweet soothing 
sing 5 
Still chase away the mourning minstrel’s. 
tears: 
The tuneful soul has soar’d on trangport's: 
Wing, 
To harmonize the music of the spheres ! ! 
Still to fair hope the son of song shall cling, 
Till ayant 3 lyre supreme on high he 
hears ! 
Famaica. 
A. 
ELI 
A MITE OF TRIBUTE 
TO THE MEMORY OF SIR JOHN MOORE. 
Au AS! for Moore, the generousy wise, 
and brave, 
Who fought and fell in freedam’s glorious. 
cause ; 
Alas! for Moore, who found a foreign grave, 
And, ah! too soon, gain’d posthumous ap- 
plause. : 
Blest be his memory, who well was tried ! 
And ble rhe honour’d land that gave him 
LEG 
*T was in the arms of Victory he died + 
Nor knew we then the sum of half his 
worth, 
Anak 
— 
