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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.

F. M.

Ad mea, decepti iuvenes, praecepta venite.

Τι χλωρός ώδ', εραστά,
τί δ' ώχριών αλύεις;
ός γού τι τήνδ' έκαμπτες
κάλλιστος ών απάντων,
πώς αισχρός ών κρατήσεις;
τί
μοι,

τί ταύτ' αλύεις ;
τί κωφος ώδ', άμoυσε,
μελαγχολών τ' αλύεις;
ός γού τι τήνδ' έπειθες
λέγων άριστα πάντων,
πως σίγ' έχων δυνήση;
τί δή, τί ταύτ' αλύεις;
παύσαι τοιαύτ' αλύων:
ουχ ώδ' έλοις αν αυτήν.
ει μη θέλει το πρώτον
έραν εκούσ' εκόντος,
ουδ', ήν τι δρας, θελήσει.
μέθες, μέθες μιν έρρειν.

Κ.

Tragoedorum Certamen ambiguum. "Ωστε θεόν, σέβομέν σε μέγ' εξοχον, "Αγγλε, τραγωδών

πως δε καλώ σ' άλλου δεύτερον, ώ Σόφοκλες;

H, A. J. M.

D

Hamlet's Soliloquy.

Jo 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.

SHAKESPEARE,

Grande Certamen.

SSE iuvet necne esse, hocin discrimen agendum est :

Utrum tandem animo sit honestius inmoderatae

Glandes pertolerare et spicula fortunai, An contra aerumnas ipsum maris instar habentes 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 sopor; at fors visa ferat sopor: haeret ibi res. Qvippe etenim somno in mortis qvae somnia possunt Accidere, 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 Iustitiaeve 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, aliquid 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 qvae fuerant jam indigna cluere.

H. A. J. M.

The Happy Spirit.

RIGHT be the place of thy soul ;

No lovelier spirit than thine

E’er burst from its mortal control
In the orbs of the blessed to shine.
On earth thou wert all but divine,

As thy soul shall immortally be;
And our sorrow may cease to repine

When we know that thy God is with thee. Light be the turf of thy tomb;

May its verdure like emeralds be; There should not be the shadow of gloom

In aught that reminds us of thee. Young flowers and an evergreen tree

May spring from the spot of thy rest : But nor cypress nor yew let us see,

For why should we mourn for the blest?

BYRON.

The Sleep of the Brave.

OW sleep the brave, who sink to rest

By all their country's wishes blest ?

When Spring, with dewy fingers cold, Returns to deck their hallowed mould, She there shall dress a sweeter sod Than Fancy's feet have ever trod. By fairy hands their knell is rung; By forms unseen their dirge is sung ; There Honour comes, a pilgrim gray, To bless the turf that wraps their clay; And Freedom shall awhile repair, To dwell a weeping hermit there.

COLLINS.

Evexit ad aethera virtus.
IT sine nocte dies qvocumqve vagatur in orbe

Mens tua, corporeo libera facta luto,
Mens tua qva numqvam mortalia vincula rupit
Pulchrior, aetheriis associanda choris.
Hospes erat terrae, modo non divina, parumper :
Nunc tua te divum sidera

semper

habent; Nec nimiae deceat nos indulgere querellae

Si vocet in gremium te Deus ipse suum. Nobile gemmaņti vernet tibi caespite bustum,

Et premat exiguo pondere terra caput :
Absint indigni feralia signa doloris ;

Non inter lacrimas fas meminisse tui.
Hunc florum sollemnis honor myrtusqve perennis

Rite sacret memori relligione locum ;
Sit tamen atra procul taxus, tristisqve cupressi

Qvae male tam fausto convenit umbra rogo.

S. M.

Κείμεθα τους πατρίοις ρήμασι πειθόμενοι. .
VORTES qvalis habet sopor,

Compostos reqvie qvos prece patria et

Votis proseqvitur bonis ?
Ver qvando gelida roriferum manu
Heroum rediens sacros

Ornabit tumulos, floribus induet
Primis qvale beatius

Planta Musa vaga non tetigit solum.
Illos, funereum decus,

Divina celebrat pulsa manu chelys;
Illis aerii chori

Decantata sonat naenia vocibus :
Illic pullus adest Honor

Exstructum venerans advena caespitem ;
Libertasqve piis humum

Sacrabit lacrimis, flebilis incola.

K.

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