Iubet Cupressus funebres.
Aut nullum, Lalage, necte mihi, precor,
Aut sertum foliis necte cupressinis.
Resplendent nimio lilia lumine,
Et pictis nimium frondibus arbuti;
Calthis mixta rosae suave rubentia
Nostro serta caput laetius ambiant;
At nullum, Lalage, necte mihi, precor,
Aut sertum foliis necte cupressinis.
Vernanti decoret tempora pampino
Subridens facili laetitia Iocus;
Fortem pro patria saepiat aesculus ;
Aptum consiliis taxus amet senem ;
Spem reddit miseris myrtus amantibus,
Sed myrtum, Lalage, tu mihi denegas:
Ergo mitte leves nectere flosculos,
Et frondes potius texe cupressinas.
Tollat laeta rosas Anglia compares,
Qvae multo rapuit sanguine praemia,
Innectatqve apici Scotia caerulo
Stillantes liqvido rore thymi comas ;
Flos cristam nitidae cingat Hiberniae
Qui vernat trifida fronde smaragdinus :
At nullum, Lalage, necte mihi, precor,
Aut sertum foliis necte cupressinis.
Inter clara lyrae carmina virgines
Musaeis hederam crinibus implicent:
Et laurus, capiti promeritum decus,
Victor sanguinea dum properat manu,
Eris concelebret clangor adoream:
Tu cum funereo tibia praecinet
Cantu, tum, Lalage, necte mihi, precor,
Tum sertum foliis necte cupressinis.
Yes, twine for me the cypress-bough,
But, O Matilda, twine not now:
Stay till a few brief months are past,
And I have looked and loved my last.
When villagers my shroud bestrew
With pansies, rosemary and rue,
Then, lady, weave a wreath for me,
And weave it of the cypress-tree.
The Fond Lover.
Why so pale and wan, fond lover?
Prithee, why so pale?
Will, when looking well can't move her,
Looking ill prevail?
Prithee, why so pale?
Why so dull and mute, young sinner?
Prithee, why so mute?
Will, when speaking well can't win her,
Saying nothing do't?
Prithee, why so mute?
Quit, quit for shame; this will not move,
This cannot take her:
If of herself she will not love,
Nothing can make her.
Let who will take her!
Pictorum Certamen ambiguum.
Nennt den Urbiner den ersten der Maler; allein Leonardo Ift zu vollendet, um blos irgend der zweite zu seyn.
Frondem texe mihi, texe cupressinam,
Nec iam texe: brevi da spatium morae,
Dum tempus rapidum fugerit, ultimo
Dum te deficiens lumine videro;
Cum pagus feretrum rore maris meum
Rutisqve et violae munere luteae
Sparget, tum, Lalage, necte mihi, precor,
Tum sertum foliis necte cupressinis.
Ad mea, decepti iuvenes, praecepta venite.
Τί χλωρὸς ὧδ, ἐραστά,
ὅς γ ̓ οὔ τι τήνδ' ἔκαμπτες
κάλλιστος ὧν ἁπάντων,
πῶς αἰσχρὸς ὢν κρατήσεις ;
τί μοι, τί ταῦτ ̓ ἀλύεις;
τί κωφὸς ὧδ, ἄμουσε,
μελαγχολῶν τ ̓ ἀλύεις;
ὅς γ ̓ οὔ τι τήνδ' ἔπειθες
λέγων ἄριστα πάντων,
πῶς σιγ ̓ ἔχων δυνήσῃ;
τί δή, τί ταῦτ ̓ ἀλύεις;
παῦσαι τοιαῦτ ̓ ἀλύων
οὐχ ὡδ ̓ ἕλοις ἂν αὐτήν.
εἰ μὴ θέλει τὸ πρῶτον
ἐρᾶν ἐκοῦσ ̓ ἑκόντος,
οὐδ', ἤν τι δρᾷς, θελήσει.
μέθες, μέθες μιν ἔρρειν.
Tragoedorum Gertamen ambiguum.
Ωστε θεόν, σέβομέν σε μέγ' ἔξοχον, "Αγγλε, τραγῳδῶν πῶς δὲ καλῶ σ ̓ ἄλλου δεύτερον, ὦ Σόφοκλες;
To be, or not to be, that is the question:
Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer
The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,
Or to take arms against a sea of troubles,
And by opposing end them?-To die,—to sleep,—
No more; and, by a sleep, to say we end
The heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks
That flesh is heir to ;-'tis a consummation
Devoutly to be wished. To die;—to sleep;—
To sleep! perchance to dream;-ay, there's the rub;
For in that sleep of death what dreams may come,
When we have shuffled off this mortal coil,
Must give us pause. There's the respect
That makes calamity of so long life.
For who would bear the whips and scorns of time,
The oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely,
The pangs of despised love, the law's delay,
The insolence of office, and the spurns
That patient merit of the unworthy takes,
When he himself might his quietus make
With a bare bodkin? Who would fardels bear
To grunt and sweat under a weary life;
But that the dread of something after death,-
The undiscovered country, from whose bourn
No traveller returns,-puzzles the will,
And makes us rather bear those ills we have,
Than fly to others that we know not of?
Thus conscience does make cowards of us all;
And thus the native hue of resolution
Is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought;
And enterprises of great pith and moment,
With this regard, their currents turn awry,
And lose the name of action.
Esse juvet necne in vita, nunc scilicet est ut
Qvaerendum videatur; utrum sit honestiu' menti
Ferre ferae glandes et spicula fortunai,
An contra aerumnas maris instar fine carentes
Arma capessere et obstando pacare per aevum.
Mors sopor est, nil praeterea; sed dicere posse :-
Ille animi angores et vulnera naturai
Innumerabilia, humanis contingere sueta,
Terminat en:—summe est optandus terminu' talis.
Mors, inqvam, sopor est; sed eum fortasse soporem
Somnia habent; animus nimirum hac haesitat in re.
Qvippe etenim somno in mortis quae somnia oriri
Possunt, excusso mortalis turbine vitae?
Hinc pausam damus; hoc perpenso, deniqve cunctis
Pergimus aerumnis affectum porro agere aevum.
Qvis ludibria enim atqve aetatis verbera ferret,
Qvisve superborum fastidia vimve potentum.
Justitiaeve moras, qvis spreti vulnus amoris
Lictorisve supercilium aut indigna malorum
Facta qvibus vexant summissos inqve merentes,
Qvi stricto mucrone qvietem posset apisci?
Qvis grave onus fessae vitai pertoleraret
Cum grunnitibus ac multis sudoribus aegris,
Ni metus ille, aliqvid nobis ne in morte ferat fors,
Inqve reperta loci natura unde advena nullus
Finem ultra remigrat, perculsum distraheret cor?
Ergo damna pati praesentia malumus ista
Qvam nobis nova perfugium atqve incognita habere.
Sic sibi conscia mens timidos nos arguit omnes
Scilicet, ingenuusqve colos ac vis animai
Strenua tabescunt palloribus oblita curae;
Coeptaqve persaepe egregia et molimine magno
Declinant sese pravos rationibus istis
In cursus, ea quae fuerant jam indigna cluere.
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