N

The Gates of Hell.

a sudden open fly,

With impetuous recoil and jarring sound,
The infernal doors, and on their hinges grate
Harsh thunder, that the lowest bottom shook
Of Erebus. She opened, but to shut

Excelled her power: the gates wide open stood,
That with extended wings a bannered host,

Under spread ensigns marching, might pass through,
With horse and chariots ranked in loose array;
So wide they stood, and like a furnace-mouth
Cast forth redounding smoke and ruddy flame.
Before their eyes in sudden view appear
The secrets of the hoary deep; a dark
Illimitable ocean, without bound,

Without dimension, where length, breadth, and height,
And time and place are lost; where eldest Night
And Chaos, ancestors of Nature, hold

Eternal anarchy, amid the noise

Of endless wars, and by confusion stand.

The Dream of Life.

AIR is her cottage in its place,

MILTON.

Where yon broad water sweetly, slowly glides: It sees itself from thatch to base

Dream in the sliding tides.

Ah fairer she, but ah, how soon to die!

Her quiet dream of life this hour may cease;

Her peaceful being slowly passes by

To some more perfect peace.

TENNYSON.

Inania Regna.

ROTINUS horrisono stridentes cardine portae Tartareae panduntur et acri dissiliunt vi; Commoti barathrum qvatiunt immane fragores. Dissiliunt valvae, nulla tamen arte reverti, Nulla vi poterant; sed qvantum expleverit alis Dispositis acies, fluitantibus undiqve signis, Instructis et eqvis et curribus ordine raro, In tantum patuere, caminiqve instar habentes Fumiferam noctem commixtis ignibus edunt. Ante oculos subito canentis caeca profundi Stagna patent, qvalis tendit sine limite pontus Fluctibus immensus nigris; non meta locorum, Non aevi modus est; mensurae oblivia semper ; Hic Chaos et mater Nox antiqvissima rerum Perturbata tenent aeternum regna, perennes Inter bellorum strepitus, constantqve ruina.

G. H. H.

Requiescat in Pace.

ULCHRA suam sedem Norae casa possidet illic
Flumen ubi larga suave moratur aqva.

Se videt in levi speculo, cum limine culmen,

Ceu foret in miro visa sopore, domus.

Pulchrior heu virgo: sed lentae somnia vitae

Qvis scit an hoc illi sint abitura die?

Pacis amans vixit: nova sensim tecta petentem
Purior in vita pax meliore manet.

G. T. H.

Freedom.

COU ask me why, though ill at ease,
Within this region I subsist,

Whose spirits fail within the mist,

And languish for the purple seas.

It is the land that freemen till,

That sober-suited Freedom chose ;

The land, where girt with friends or foes, A man may speak the thing he will;

A land of settled government,

A land of just and old renown,

Where Freedom broadens slowly down

From precedent to precedent.

Should banded unions persecute

Opinion, and induce a time

When single thought is civil crime,

And individual freedom mute;

Though Power should make from land to land The name of Britain trebly great;

Though every channel in the state Should almost choke with golden sand ;

Yet waft me from the harbour-mouth,
Wild wind! I seek a warmer sky;
And I will see before I die

The palms and temples of the south.

TENNYSON.

Verba animi proferre.

VAERIS sollicito cur ita taedio
Oppressus patriae semper inhaeream,
Cui cor deficiens purpureum mare
Hic intra nebulas avet.

Glebam scilicet hanc libera gens arat,
Iam pridem modico sobria pallio
Libertas habet hic perpetuam domum:
Qva vir plebe vel invida

Vel cinctus sociis audeat eloqvi

Qvod sit cumqve animo; fultaqve legibus
Iustum per memores terra tulit decus
Fastos; iuraqve libera

Tardis augminibus latius exstruit
Scitorum series innumerabilis.

Qvid, si verba animi candida

Coniurata vetat cohors

promere

Inducitqve malos in patriam dies?
Si sentire secus laedere publicum est,
Et ius cuiqve suum voce carens iacet?
Aucta vi ter et amplius

Per gentes hominum fama Britanniae
Crescat: paene sua compleat alveos
Omnes auriferum colluvie lutum,
Per qvos res fluit imperi;

Me portus tamen hinc aufer ab ostio,
Velox aura; prius qvam moriar, die
Palmas sub medio visam ego templaqve,
Caelum qvae melius fovet.

G

H. A. J. M.

Chevy Chase.

T last the Doglas and the Persie met
Lyk two captayns of myght and mayne ;
The swapte togethar tyll the both swat
With swordes that were of fyn Myllan.
These worthie freckys for to fyght
Therto the were full fayne,

Tyll the bloode owte of their basnetes sprente
As ever dyd hail or rayne.

Holde the, Persie, sayd the Doglas,

And i'feth I shall the brynge

Where thowe shalte have a yerls wagis

Of Jamy our Scottish kynge.

Thou shalte have thy ransom fre,

I hight the hear this thinge,

For the manfullyste man yet art thowe
That ever I conqueryd in filde fightyng.

Nay then, sayd the lord Persie,

I told it thee beforne

That I wolde never yeldyde be

To no man of a woman born.

With that there cam an arrowe hastely
Forthe of a mightie ane;

Hit hathe strekene the yerle Doglas

In at the brest bane.

Thoroue lyvar and longs baith

The sharp arrowe ys gane,

That never after in all his lyffe days

He spake no wordes but ane,

That was, Fyghte ye, my myrry men, whyllys ye may, For my lyff days ben gane.

The Persie leanyde on his brande

And sawe the Doglas de;

He took the dede man be the hande

And sayd, Wo ys for the!