EPISTLE IV. TO GEORGE MORGAN ESQ., Callimach. Hymn. in Del. v. 11. OH, what a tempest whirled us hither!+ All the light and languid flowers charm Forsook me in this rude alarm. 'The tetractys, or sacred number of the Py. thagoreane, on which they solemnly swore, and which they called wayar aevaov þvσews the founfain of perennial nature. Lucian has ridiculed this religious arithmetic very finely in his Sale of Philosophers. When close they reefed the timid sail, And even our haughty nain-mast The muse, in that unlovely hour, In songs elysian lapped my mind! The casket where my memory lays Which time has saved from ancient Take one of these, to Lais sung, a much higher sphere; but the excellent di-positions of the family with whom he resides, and the cordial repose he enjoys amongst some of the kindest hearts in the world, should be almost enough to atone to him for the worst caprice, of fortune. The consul himself, Colonel Hamil2 This diadem is intended to represent the ton, is one among the very few instances of a analogy between the notes of music and the pris-man, ardently loyal to his king, and yet beloved matic colours. We find in Plutarch a vague intimation of this kindred harmony in colours and rounds. Όψις τε και ακον, μετά φωνης τε και φωτος την αρμονιαν επιφαινουσι.-De Musica. Cassiodorus, whose idea I may be supposed to have borrowed, says, in a letter upon music to Boetius: 'Ut diadema oculis, varia luce gemmarum, sic cythara diversitate soni, blanditur auditu.' This is indeed the only tolerable thought in the letter. Lib. 2. Variar. This gentleman is attached to the British consulate at Norfolk. His talents are worthy of by the Americans. His house is the very temple of hospitality, and I sincerely pity the heart of that stranger who, warm from the welcome of such a board, and with the taste of such Madeira still upon his lips--' col dolce in bocca'could sit down to write a libel on his host, in the true spirit of a modern philosophist. See the Travels of the Duke de la Rochefoucault Liancourt. vol. ii, We were seven days on our passage from Norfolk to Bermuda, during three of which we were forced to lay-to in a gale of wind. The Driver sloop of war, in which I went, was built at Bermuda of cedar, and is accounted an excellent sea-boat. She was then commanded by my very regretted friend Captain Compton, who in July last was killed aboard the Lily, in an action with a French privateer. Poor Compton! he fell a victim to the strange impolicy of allowing such a miserable thing as the Lily to remain in the service; so small, crank, and unmanageable, that a well-manned merchantman was at any time a match for her. This epigram is by Paulus Silentiarius, and may be found in the Analecta of Brunck, vol. iii. p. 72. But as the reading there is somewhat different from what I have followed in this translation, I shall give it as I had it in my memory at the time, and as it is in Heinsius, who, I believe, first produced the epigram. See his Poemata. Ηδη μεν εστι φίλημα το Λαίδος ήδν δε αυτών Και πολυ κιχλίζουσα σοβεις ευβοστρυχον αιγλην | Oh! could you view the scenery dear, That now beneath my window lies, You'd think that Nature lavished here Her purest wave, her softest skies, To make a heaven for Love to sigh in, For bards to live and saints to die in! Close to my wooded bank below, In glassy calm the waters sleep, And to the sunbeam proudly show The coral rocks they love to steep s The fainting breeze of morning fails, The drowsy boat moves slowly past, And I can almost touch its sails That languish idly round the mast. The sun has now profusely given The flashes of a noontide heaven, And, as the wave reflects his beams, Another heaven its surface seems! Blue light and clouds of silvery tears So pictured o'er the waters lie, That every languid bark appears To float along a burning sky! Oh! for the boat the angel gave To him, who in his heavenward flight, Sailed, o'er the Sun's ethereal wave, To planet-isles of odorous light! Sweet Venus, what a clime he found Within thy orb's ambrosial round !+ There spring the breezes, rich and warm, That pant around thy twilight car There augels dwell, so pure of form, That each appears a living star! Μυρομενην δ' εφίλησα τα δ' ώς δροσερής από πηγής, 2 The water is so clear around the island, that and as we entered the harbour, they appeared to the rocks are seen beneath to a very great depth; us so near the surface, that it seemed impossible cessity, of course, for heaving the lead; and the we should not strike on them. There is uo nenegro pilot, looking down at the rocks from the bow of the ship, takes her through this difficult navigation with a skill and confidence which seem to astonish some of the oldest sailors. 3 In Kircher's Ecstatic Journey to Heaven, Cosmiel, the genius of the world, gives Theodidactus a boat of asbestos, with which he embarks into the regions of the sun. Vides (says Cosmie!) hanc asbestinam naviculam commoditati tua præparatum.'-Itinerar. i. dial. i. cap. 5. There are some very strange fancies in this work of Kircher. * When the genius of the world and his fellow These are the sprites, oh radiant | Away, away, bewildering look! queen! Thou send'st so often to the bed Of her I love, with spell unseen, Thy planet's brightening balm to shed; To make the eye's enchantment clearer; To give the cheek one rosebud more, And bid that flushing lip be dearer, Which had been, oh! too dear be fore! But, whither means the muse to roam? 'Tis time to call the wanderer home. Who could have ever thought to search her Up in the clouds with Father Kircher? So, health and love to all your mansion! Long may the bowl that pleasures bloom in, The flow of heart, the soul's expansion, Mirth, and song, your board illumine! Fare you well-remember too, When cups are flowing to the brim, That here is one who drinks to you, And, oh! as warmly drink to him. No-lady! lady! keep the ring; May sleep within its holy sphere! Do not disturb their tranquil dream, Yet Heaven will shed a soothing beam, But then, that eye, that burning eye! Where Love inwreaths no genial traveller arrive at the planet Venus, they find an island of loveliness, full of odours and intelligences, where angels preside, who shed the cosmetic influence of this planet over the earth; such being, according to astrologers, the 'vis nâusiva' of Venus. When they are in this part Or all the boast of Virtue's o'er; Go-hie thee to the sage's book, And learn from him to feel no more! I cannot warn thee! every touch, Oh! quite as much, as thou dost Yet stay, dear love-one effort yet- The light that leads my soul astray ! Thou say'st that we were born to meet, That our hearts bear one common seal, Oh, lady! think, how man's deceit Can seem to sigh and feign to feel! When o'er thy face some gleam of thought, Like day-beams through the morning air, Hath gradual stole, and I have caught The feeling ere it kindled there: The sympathy I then betrayed, Perhaps was but the child of art; The guile of one who long hath played With all these wily nets of heart. Oh! thou hast not my virgin vow! Though few the years I yet have told, Canst thou believe I lived till now, With loveless heart or senses cold? No-many a throb of bliss and pain, For many a maid, my soul hath proved; With some I wantoned wild and vain, While some I truly, dearly loved! The cheek to thine I fondly lay, To theirs hath been as fondly laid; The words to thee I warmly say, To them have been as warmly said. of the heavens, a casuistical question occurs to Theodidactus, and he asks Whether baptism may be performed with the waters of Venus ?''An aquis globi Veneris baptismus institui pos. sit ?'-to which the gonius answers, 'Certainly." ! But, 'twas my doom to err with one In every look so like to thee, That, oh! beneath the blessed sun, So fair there are but thou and she! Whate'er may be her angel birth, She was thy lovely perfect twin, And wore the only shape on earth That could have charmed my soul to sin! Your eyes!-the eyes of languid doves Were never half so like each other! The glances of the baby loves Resemble less their warm-eyed mother! Her lip!-oh, call me not false-hearted, When such a lip I fondly pressed, 'Twas Love some melting cherry parted, Gave thee one half and her the rest! And when, with all thy murmuring tone They sued, half open, to be kissed, I could as soon resist thine own And them, Heaven knows! I ne'er resist. ON SEEING HER WITH A WHITE VEIL Then, scorn me not, though false I be, AND A RICH GIRDLE. ΜΑΡΓΑΡΙΤΑΙ ΔΗΛΟΥΣΙ ΔΑΚΡΥΩΝ ΡΟΟΝ, PUT off the vestal veil, nor, oh! Put off the fatal zone you wear; Are tears that fell from Virtue there THE RESEMBLANCE. vo cercand' 10 Donna, quant' é possibile, in altrui YES, if 'twere any common love That led my pliant heart astray, I grant, there's not a power above Could wipe the faithless crime away! "Twas love that waked the dear ex cess; My heart had been more true to thee, Had mine eye prized thy beauty less! ΤΟ --. WHEN I loved you, I can't but allow FROM THE GREEK OF FILL high the cup with liquid flame, |