HERE Ausonian summers glowing
warm the deep to life and joyance,
and gentle zephyrs, nimbly blowing,
wanton with the waves that flowing
by many a land of ancient glory,
and many an isle renown'd in story,
leap along with gladsome buoyance,
there, Marinere,
dost thou appear,
in faery pinnace gaily flashing,
through the white foam proudly dashing,
the joyous playmate of the buxom breeze,
the fearless fondling of the mighty seas.
Thou the light sail boldly spreadest,
o'er the furrow'd waters gliding,
thou nor wreck nor foeman dreadest,
thou nor helm nor compass needest,
while the sun is bright above thee,
while the bounding surges love thee,
in their deepening bosoms hiding,
thou canst not fear,
for though the tides, with restless motion,
bear thee to the desert ocean,
far as the ocean stretches to the sky,
'tis all thy own, 'tis all thy empery.
THE VANITY OF FAME
E that thirsts for glory's prize, thinking that the top of all, let him view the expansed skies
and the earth's contracted ball,
'twill shame him then, the name he wan
fills not the short walk of one man,
O why vainly strive you then
to shake off the bands of fate,
though fame through the world of men
should in all tongues your names relate,
and with proud titles swell that story,
the dark grave scorns your brightest glory.
There with nobles beggars sway,
and kings with commons share one dust, what news of Brutus at this day,
or Fabricius the just?
Some rude verse cut in stone or lead
keeps up the names, but they are dead.
So shall you one day, past reprieve,
lie perhaps without a name, .
but if dead you think to live
by this air of human fame,
know, when time stops that posthume breath,
you must endure a second death.
433 SOLIS ANIMI BONIS NOS BELLVIS PRÆSTARE
IS not rich furniture and gems
with cedar-roofs and ancient stems,
nor yet a plenteous lasting flood
of gold, that makes man truly good.
Leave to enquire in what fair fields
a river runs which much gold yields,
virtue alone is the rich prize
can purchase stars and buy the skies.
Let others build with adamant,
or pillars of carved marble plant,
which rude and rough sometimes did dwell
far under earth and near to hell.
But richer much (from death released)
shines in the fresh groves of the east
the Phoenix or those fish that dwell
with silvered scales in Hiddekel.
Let others with rare various pearls
their garments dress and in forced curls
bind up their locks, look big and high,
and shine in robes of scarlet dye.
But in my thoughts more glorious far
those native stars and speckles are
which birds wear or the spots which we
in leopards dispersed see.
Virtue alone and nought else can
a difference make 'twixt beast and man,
when the sun shines not with his wonted cheer,
and fortune throws an averse cast for you.
That sea, which vext with Notus is,
the merry west-winds will to-morrow kiss.
The sun to-day rides drousily,
to-morrow 'twill put on a look more fair,
laughter and groaning do alternately
return, and tears sport's nearest neighbours are.
'Tis by the gods appointed so,
that good fate should with mingled dangers flow.
Who drave his oxen yesterday
doth now over the noblest Romans reign,
and on the Gabii and the Cures lay
the yoke which from the oxen he had ta'en.
Whom Hesperus saw poor and low
this morning's eye beholds him greatest now.
If fortune knit amongst her play
but seriousness; he shall again go home
to his old country-farm of yesterday,
to scoffing people no mean jest become:
and with the crowned axe, which he
had ruled the world, go back and prune some tree;
nay, if he want the fuel cold requires,
with his own fasces he shall make him fires.
HOUGH frost and snow lock'd from mine eyes
that beauty which without door lies,
the gardens, orchards, walks, that so
I might not all thy pleasures know;
yet, Saxham, thou, within thy gate,
art of thyself so delicate,
so full of native sweets, that bless
thy roof with inward happiness;
as neither from, nor to thy store,
winter takes aught, or spring adds more.
The stranger's welcome each man there
stamped on his cheerful brow doth wear;
nor doth this welcome, or his cheer,
grow less, 'cause he stays longer here.
There's none observes, much less repines,
how often this man sups or dines.
Thou hast no porter at the door
t' examine or keep back the poor;
nor locks nor bolts; thy gates have been
made only to let strangers in:
untaught to shut, they do not fear
to stand wide open all the year;
careless who enters, for they know
thou never didst deserve a foe;
and as for thieves, thy bounty's such,
they cannot steal, thou giv'st so much.
The wearied man of grief
to whom comes no relief
he dwells, a thing bereft-
Yet o'er him from above
and He whose name is Love,
and thus he thankful learns
like thee I deem,
through life's dark
dream.
earth's hopes are
gone;
blighted-alone.
bright spirits bend,
calls him His friend;
why grief was given,
and trusting, peaceful, turns to God in Heaven.
THE SATYR CARRYING ALEXIS
with this burden full of woe,
through still silence of the night,
guided by the glow-worm's light,
hither am I come at last.
Many a thicket have I past;
not a twig that durst deny me
not a bush that durst descry me,
to the little bird that sleeps
on the tender spray; nor creeps
that hardy worm with pointed tail,
but if I be under sail,
flying faster than the wind,
leaving all the clouds behind,
but doth hide her tender head
in some hollow tree, or bed
of seeded nettles; not a hare
can be started from his fare
by my footing; nor a wish
is more sudden, nor a fish
can be found with greater ease
cut the vast unbounded seas,
leaving neither print nor sound,
than I, when nimbly on the ground
I measure many a league an hour.
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