Haste thee! and leave my threshold-floor, Inviolate and pure! Let not thy presence tempt me more, —Man may not thus endure! - Away! I bear a fetter'd arm, A heart that burns-but must not harm! Begone! outstrip the swift gazelle ! The wind in speed subdue! To-morrow and th' avenger's hand, Fly! may the desert's fiery blast Avoid thy secret way! And sternly, till thy steps be past, I would not that thy doom should be ALP-HORN SONG. TRANSLATED FROM THE GERMAN OF TIECK. WHAT dost thou here, brave Swiss? What welcome cheers thee now ? Dar'st thou lift thine eye to gaze around? Where are the peaks, with their snow-wreaths crown'd? Where is the song, on the wild winds borne, Or the ringing peal of the joyous horn, But thy spirit is far away! Where a greeting waits thee in kindred eyes, Where the white Alps look through the sunny skies, With the low senn-cabins, and pastures free, And the sparkling blue of the glacier-sea, And the summits, clothed with day! Back, noble child of Tell!' Back to the wild and the silent glen, And the frugal board of peasant-men! Dost thou seek the friend, the loved one, here ?— Away! not a true Swiss heart is near, Against thine own to swell! TRANSLATIONS FROM HORACE. TO VENUS. BOOK IST, Ode 30th. "O Venus, Regina Cnidi Paphique," &c. OH! leave thine own loved isle, Bright Queen of Cyprus and the Paphian shores! And here in Glycera's fair temple smile, Where vows and incense lavishly she pours. Waft here thy glowing son; Bring Hermes; let the Nymphs thy path surround, TO HIS ATTENDANT. BOOK IST, ODE 38TH. "Persicos odi, puer, apparatus," &c. I HATE the Persian's costly pride— Seek thou for me the spot. For me be nought but myrtle twined- While thus I quaff the bowl, reclined TO DELIUS. BOOK 2D, ODE 3D. Equam memento rebus in arduis," &c. FIRM be thy soul !-serene in power, When adverse fortune clouds the sky; Undazzled by the triumph's hour, Since, Delius, thou must die! Alike, if still to grief resign'd, Or if, through festal days, 'tis thine To quaff, in grassy haunts reclined, The old Falernian wine: Haunts where the silvery poplar-boughs Love with the pine's to blend on high, And some clear fountain brightly flows In graceful windings by. There be the rose with beauty fraught, So soon to fade, so brilliant now, There be the wine, the odours brought, While time and fate allow! For thou, resigning to thine heir Thy halls, thy bowers, thy treasured store, Must leave that home, those woodlands fair, On yellow Tiber's shore. What then avails it if thou trace Since the dread lot for all must leap TO THE FOUNTAIN OF BANDUSIA. BOOK 3D, ODE 13TH. "Oh! Fons Bandusiæ, splendidior vitro," &c. OH! worthy fragrant gifts of flowers and wine, Bandusian fount, than crystal far more bright! To-morrow shall a sportive kid be thine, Whose forehead swells with horns of infant might: Ev'n now of love and war he dreams in vain, Doom'd with his blood thy gelid wave to stain. Let the red dog-star burn!-his scorching beam, |