XIX.

OH that those lips had language! life has passed With me but roughly since I heard thee last. Those lips are thine-thy own sweet smile I see,

The same that oft in childhood solaced me:

Voice only fails, else how distinct they say, 'Grieve not, my child, chase all thy fears away!'

The meek intelligence of those dear eyes (Blest be the art that can immortalize,

The art which baffles Time's tyrannic claim

To quench it!) here shines on me still the same.

COWPER.

XIX.

Aн utinam labris illis vox, mater, inesset,

Nam gravis abrepta te mihi vita fuit.

Labra tua agnosco, et notum super omnia risum, Qui puero toties spem requiemque dabat. Jam nunc ipsa loqui, possent modo, velle videntur 'Parce queri, vanos projice, nate, metus.'

Ah! quam mitis inest caris sapientia ocellis !

Quos vel adhuc propria luce nitere reor :

Fas laudare artem, quæ spreto Temporis ictu
Pingit in æternos ora sacratque dies.

XX.

O SILVERY Streamlet of the fields,
Thou flowest full and free!

For thee the rains of spring return,

The summer dews for thee:

And when the latest blossoms die

In autumn's chilly showers,

The winter fountains gush for thee,

Till May brings back the flowers.

BRYANT.

XX.

RIVULE, per campos nitida delaberis unda, Saxa tibi plenas nulla morantur aquas. Scilicet et verni redeunt tibi temporis imbres,

Scilicet æstiva ros tibi nocte cadit.

Quinetiam marcent ubi serta novissima florum, Quos imbre Autumnus frigidiore rapit. Hiberni tibi dant ultro sua munera fontes,

Dum referat Maii florifer annus opes.

XXI.

UNDER the greenwood tree,

Who loves to lie with me,

And tune his merry note

Unto the sweet bird's throat,

Come hither, come hither, come hither;

Here shall he see

No enemy

But winter and rough weather.

Who doth ambition shun

And loves to live i' the sun,

Seeking the food he eats,

And pleased with what he gets,

Come hither, come hither, come hither;

Here shall he see

No enemy

But winter and rough weather.

SHAKSPEAR.