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How often to my long-beloved retreat
Hastening, where calm and peaceful all appears,
As soft I sigh, beneath my feeble feet

The well known sod I drench with trickling tears!
How often, wandering from my lonely seat,
To the wood's wild recesses, free from fears,
My thoughts I rivet on that aspect sweet
Death veils, nor hence his stroke invited hears!
Now, in the form of Nymph or Goddess fair,
From Sorga's waves emerging, while I gaze,
On the green bank I see her, seated there!
Now treading, as along the bank she strays,
The flowers, a beauteous mortal; and her air
Tells me, with pity she my state surveys!

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ZEPHYR returns, and the mild Season, seen
With herbs and flowers, his pleasing train, in state;
Procne is heard, soft Philomel her fate

Laments, and Spring's own colours grace the scene.
The laughing flowers delight, and heavens serene:
Jove on his fairest daughter looks elate:

All creatures warn'd, through space, obedient wait
The will of Love, and own his impulse keen.
But, wretch, for me those sighs return alone
That with a wounded heart for her I send,
Who still on high retains it as her own:
And the sweet song of birds, and flowers that blend

All hues, and woman's gentle manners, grown

Importunate, like deserts dread offend.







PROPITIOUS hear, O happy seat

Of social Joy, the fairest* own'd
Of earthly towns, and Proserpine's retreat;
That placed, as on the banks enthroned

* Mr. Green has omitted, in his translation, the piece of history contained in the expression καλλίςα βρολεᾶν πολέων; but I thought that not an uninteresting one, which shewed the general opinion of Agrigentum, with respect to beauty probably just before the taste and policy of Pericles had rendered Athens so unrivalled in the productions of art.

Of Agragas, behold'st thy vallies gay

With flocks and many a mirthful swain

Subject to thee, and prosperous by thy sway;

With Heaven's and Earth's kind will receive my

strain :

Receive too, Midas, him it crowns, who bore

From Greece that Art's respected prize,

Pallas (the Gorgon weltering in her gore),

Invented from the monstrous kindred's cries.


Sadly their voice the prostrate dead

Bemoan'd, when Perseus could subdue
One of the three fierce sisters, and her head
His trophy, with its serpents, view.

For feats regretted wide, the Chief arrived
At sea-girt Seriphus, his wandering ceased:
The race* of Phorcus high, of sight deprived,
And Polydectes,† shuddering at his feast,

* The surviving Gorgons, Stheno and Euryala. + A tribute being expected by this king from his guests, Perseus appeared, carrying the head of Medusa.

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