of the shades, by light and warmth unvisited, by loveless, joyless, restless wanderers flitted over-unsubstantial inhabitants of vacuity-inheritors of disappointment-possessors of emptiness. The following is equally beautiful and affecting; and as the last showed the love-yearning of Greek mothers, so this may exemplify the loyalty, the tenderness and the delicacy of Greck daughters. It also is

A delightful thing that occurs to the student of the Anthology is the development in these little poems of the more delicate traits and domestic feelings, habits, and pleasures of the Grecks, such as escape the grave historian, nor appear in the higher poetry. For example, the female fondness for pet animals is exquisitely displayed in some of the elegiac epigrams, in which the death of these favorites is lamented with a charming grief-half play, half passion, and altogether poetical. Such is the following by Anyte on the death of a favorite Locrian hound: "Ωλεο δήποτε, Μαῖρα, κ, 5, 7.

I.

In a many-rooted thicket,
Maira! thou art dead at length,

Of glad-voicing hounds the fleetest!
Such the cureless venom's strength,

Which inserted in thy nimble foot

The viper, on his neck adorned with many a spot.

II.

Thou hast perished at last, O Locrian Maira!

The swiftest of glad-voicing hounds;

Thou hast perished alone in the copse many-rooted,
That no more to thy baying resounds:

Such was the force of the venom that ne'er a

Cure would admit for the wounds

Which thy fleet foot received from the viper neck-spotted.

This is serious, (for a dog is a sort of friend,) the interest half human, the vivid painting of the spot and incident very poetical. The two following are in more playful mood, but equally good in their way. They tell the story so well as to require no explanation, and as this is a merit, we won't spoil it:

Ακρίδι τα κατ' ἄρουραν ἀηδόνι, κ, τ, λ.

To a locust-the ground-nightingale-
And a cricket-on the oaks that doth dwell-

Myro built a common tomb,

When a virgin tear had shed the maiden,
For, with both her playthings laden,

The stubborn Pluto went home.

Οὐκέτι μ' ὡς το πάρος πυκινᾶις πτερύγεσσιν, κ, τ, λ.

Clapping with close-pressed wings, no more,
Awaking early, shalt thou me

Rouse from my couch as heretofore;

For coming on thee stealthily,

While thou wert sleeping sure, some ravenous beast

Killed thee, upon thy throat his sudden talon placed.

We have in these partly playful inscriptions for the little tombs of such petty favorites sufficient evidence, perhaps, of that mild vivacity which is the chief peculiarity of Anyte. Yet there are instances even in these trifles of no trifling imaginative power. The following three, of which the first is an epigram proper, are particularly fine, and above Anyte's usual pitch of poesy:

Εσταθι τῆδε κράνεια, κ, τ. λ.

Stand thou here,

Homicidal Cornel-Spear!

Suffer thy brazen point to drip no more

With the piteous gore

Of enemies!

But, resting in this marble hall,

(Minerva's lofty dome it is,)

The bravery proclaim to all!

Of the Cretan Echratis!

Ηνία τοι παῖδες, κ, τ, λ.

The purple reins upon thee, Goat!
The children put and draw

The rose-band round thy bearded mouth,
And mock what late they saw—

The contest for the cquestrian prize
At the god's temple--nor shalt thou despise
To carry whom a trifle gratifies.

τίπτε κατ' οιοβατον, κ, τ, λ.

QUESTION.

Wherefore, Pan! Rustic rude!

Sitting in the solitary,

Thickly-shaded wood,
Dost thou play

Upon the sweet-voiced reed?

ANSWER.

That my heifers may

On these dewy mountains feed,

Cropping the beautiful grass-spikes hairy.

But neither our time nor our space permits that we give all of even the too few relics of these poetesses, preserved in the Anthology. We must complete our garland: and as even from the roses of Sappho we felt obliged to select, much more from the Lilies of Anyte. Two more of these we'shall cull, for their characteristic beauty; nor must we forget Myro,

the elegant Byzantine, nor the sprightly Nossis. "A myrrh-breathing, well-flowered, Iris of Nossis, on whose tablets Love softened the wax," and "a sweet, unsullied crocus of Erinna" must contribute to our wreath their unwasted fragrance and imperishable bloom.

UPON A ROCK, UNDER TREES, BY A COLD SPRING, INSCRIBED BY THE VIRGIN ANYTE.

Stranger! thy weary limbs refresh upon this stone!

In the green leaves the wind to thee shall rustle sweet.
Drink of the spring at its cold source! for well is known
This rest to them that travel in the scorching heat.

TO NAIS.-BY ANYTE.

See the horned goat: how proudly

Doth his haughty eye

Roll above his jaws so shaggy-
Cans't thou tell me why?

Proud he is that on the mountains

His thick-curled neck,

In her rosy hand, sweet Naïs
Would so often take.

ON CERTAIN IMAGES CONSECRATED TO THE NYMPHS OF WOOD AND
STREAM.-INSCRIBED BY MIRO OF BYZANTIUM.

Nymphs of the forest! virgins of the river!
Immortal maids, who tread with rosy feet
The deep recesses of the wood for ever!
Grace and protection unto Cleon mete;

Him who set up to you, O goddesses,

Beneath the pines, these beauteous images.

INSCRIPTION FOR CERTAIN ARMS, HUNG IN THE TEMPLE BY THE LOCRIANS.

NOSSIS.

Those Brettian men, their armor dight

On shoulders right unfortunate,

Slain by Locrians swift in fight;

Whose courage these now celebrate;

And in the temples of the god suspended,

Miss not the clumsy thieves whom they of late defended.

FOR THE TOMB OF BAUCIS.-BY ERINNA.

Ye! monumental Pillars! you, my birds!

Thou! mournful Urn, that holds my slender dust!
To them that come unto my tomb, these words

Address, and greet them-citizen or Guest.
And that the grave hath me, a bride, declare;

And that my father calls me Baucis; that I came
Of Tenia (this they know ;) and that my fair
Comrade, Erinna, on this tomb inscribed the same.

Erinna was the cotemporary and pupil of Sappho, and in respect of genius yielded only to her mistress. A concise energy of expression marks her style; and the vigorously dramatic imagination displayed in the few specimens that remain to us, shows what reason we have to regret her lost writings. The epitaph, translated as above, may be partly deprived of its force for English readers by the allusions to Greek customs, and we have therefore ventured to give an imitation (of her style more particularly, but indeed of the Greek elegiac epigrams in general) as follows presently; substituting modern allusions, but endeavoring to preserve the antique spirit, and so far as possible, the antique form.

INSCRIPTION FOR THE MONUMENT OF TWO PERSONS ASSOCIATED IN MANY AFFECTING PARTICULARS.

In the same year that first our Myrrha saw

The light, emerged from those maternal glooms

Her earliest breath did sweet Erato draw;

Sisters almost, for sprung from kindred wombs.

Like care, like growth, like tasks, like charms they shared;
They lived to womanhood, nor died unwed.

But ah! what fate was for these friends prepared?
Successive brides! they shared the self-same bed!

Both, ere the mother could supplant the bride,

To one grave from the same sad arms were borne:
Yet be we cheered-in the same faith they died,

And here both wait the resurrection morn.

Finally, we heartily commend to those who have even "small Greek," the study of these exquisite poems in the original, as the best way any of us can have of counteracting for ourselves the enervating tendencics of the sort of literature that appears to prevail just at present. It is fortunate, indeed, for the world, that treasures which some minds will not neglect are walled off by that difficulty of a dead language;-to those who surmount it, but the condition of labor, without which is no true manliness-without a delight in which the love of literature is but a sickly appetite. We must close this too long article; having omitted many things, and in particular a vindication, on moral and philosophic grounds, of the Sapphic poems, as being a necessitated expression of genuine and human passion; a necessary step in the imaginative progress of the soul to the ultimate mystery of Love, wherein the dissatisfied and unsatisfiable appetites, at first exciting, then blending with, shall at last be consumed by the spiritual affections, so accomplishing the destiny of the heart--so attaining its final reposc.

FRANCESCO FRANCIA BEFORE THE ST. CECELIA OF RAPHAEL.*

"Aber wie soll ich der heutigen Welt die Empfindungen schildern, die der ausserordentliche Mann sein inneres Zerreissen fühlte. Es war ihm, wie einem sein müszte, der seinen Zeit Kindheit an von ihm entfernten Bruder umarmen wollte, und statt dessen einen Engel des Lichts vor seinen Augen erblickte. Sein Inneres war durchbont; es war ihm, als sänke er in voller Ueberzengung seines Herzens vor einem höhern Wesen un die Kniee."

"Alle die unendlich mannig faltigen Bildungen, die sich in seinem mahlerischen Sinn bewegt fühlten, und in Farben und Linien auf Leinwand zur Würklichkeit übergegangen waren, fuhren jetzt mit verzerrten Zügen durch seine Secle, und waren die Plagegeister, die ihn in seiner Fieberhitze ängstigten. Ehe seine Schüler es sich versahen, fanden sie ihn todt in Bette liegen."-Wackenroder.

The warm light of the clear Italian sun

Streamed richly through the painter's shadowed room,
With the soft glow of its ethereal gold
Lighting the mellow twilight. In the flood
Of its soft, yellow radiance, brightly rose,
Like an unearthly vision, on the sight,
That dream of beauty which the painter's hand
Had traced upon the canvass. In the glow
Of dazzling splendor had the pencil of
The great magician warmed it into life-
A fairy vision, and the softened light
Around the coloring of its features played,
As in the unreal radiance of a dream-
A halo of dim glory!

* The story upon which this sketch is founded is as follows: Francesco Francia, a painter of Bologna, whose pictures were celebrated throughout Italy, and who had cherished in his bosom the hope of imperishable fame, received from Raphael a St. Cecelia which had been painted by that artist for the Church of St. John in Bologna, accompanied by the request that he would have it properly erected in its place, and if he perceived any faults in the composition, as a friend, to correct them. The picture having been received in his absence, his pupils had placed it in the most advantageous light in his room; and when he entered and gazed upon that "Angel of Light," (never having seen a picture of Raphael's before,) he was so struck with his own insignificance that he received a shock from which he never recovered. His pupils shortly after found him lying dead in his bed.