Done to death by slanderous tongues
Was the hero that here lies:
Death, in guerdon of her wrongs,
Gives her fame which never dies:
So the life, that died with shame,
Lives in death with glorious fame.
Hang thou there upon the tomb,
Praising her when I am dumb.
Pardon, goddess of the night,
Those that slew thy virgin knight;
For the which, with songs of woe,
Round about her tomb they go.
Midnight, assist our moan;
Help us to sigh and groan,
Heavily, heavily:
Graves yawn, and yield your dead,
Till death be uttered,
Uebel ist ein Schiff berathen auf dem sturmbewegten Meer; Doch ein Herz im Sturm der Liebe ist es wahrlich noch viel mehr.
Jenes wirft die schweren Lasten, die es drücken, über Bord; Dieses schifft mit voller Ladung durch die wilden Fluthen
Ἅδε μὲν Ἡρὼ γαῖα καλύπτει
ψιθυραῖς Ηρὼ γλώσσαις φθιμένην
Θάνατος δ ̓ ἄχεων ποινὰς μεγάλων
ἀντιδίδωσιν κλέος ἀθάνατον
βιοτὰ δ ̓ οὕτω θνήσκουσ ̓ ἀκλεῶς
βίον εἴληχεν τὸν κλεινότατον·
δέλτος, σὺ δέ μοι νῦν ἐπὶ τύμβου
τοῦδε κρεμαστὴ
σιγῶντος ἐμοῦ νιν ἐπαίνει.
σύγγνωθι θεά, πότνια νυκτός,
σὴν κτείνασιν παρθένον ἀδμῆτ'·
ἀνθ' ὧν τύμβους ἀμφιπολοῦμεν
λιγυροῖς θρήνοις ἐπιτυμβιδίοις·
σὺ δὲ νὺξ μεσάτη σύμμαχος ἡμῶν
μελέα μελέοις ἴσθι στοναχαῖς·
ἐπάνω τύμβοι τ ̓ ἐκπροϊέντες
χάσκετε νεκρούς, ἔστ ̓ ἂν θάνατος
μέλεος μελέων
νεκύων πλήρωμα κενώσῃ.
Triste ratis pelagi medio conrepta furore;
Tristius in vitae turbine prensus Amor.
Iacturam facit illa, levisqve supervolat undas;
Hic fera solicitum per freta portat onus.
One day I wrote her name upon the strand,
But came the waves and washed it away;
Again I wrote it with a second hand,
But came the tide and made my pains his prey. "Vain man," said she, "that dost in vain assay A mortal thing so to immortalise ;
For I myself shall like to this decay,
And eke my name be wiped out likewise."
"Not so," quoth I; "let baser things devise
To die in dust, but you shall live by fame:
My verse your virtues rare shall eternise,
And in the heavens write your glorious name;
Where, whenas death shall all the world subdue,
Our love shall live, and later life renew."
The Parting Gift.
Take this ring, the simple token
Of a true and loving heart;
Could the spell of fate be broken,
Never, never would we part.
Soon we lose whate'er is sweetest;
Soon we ring enjoyment's knell;
Fondest hopes are ever fleetest;
Therefore, dear one, fare thee well.
K. (from the German.)
Nuper ego scripsi Lalages in litore nomen :
Ilicet hoc tumidi diluit unda maris.
Mox iterum scripsi: nec longum tempus, et aestus
Adlabens iterum despoliavit opus.
Desine, ait Lalage, vir credule: sicine morte
Mortales titulos posse carere putas?
Aufugiam par ipsa notis in litore ductis,
Deletumqve meum tempore nomen erit.
Haud ita, respondi: confundat cetera pulvis;
Fama tibi vitam tempus in omne dabit.
Aeternabit enim raras mea carmine dotes
Aetheraqve inscribet nomine Musa tuo.
Illic vivus erit seroqve novabitur aevo,
Ultima post mundi funera, noster amor.
Gemmam do tibi simplicem, Neaera,
Fidi mnemosynon probiqve cordis ;
Nos, si fata forent movenda votis,
Nullum, lux mea, separaret aevum.
Sed dulcissima quaeqve mox recedunt,
Veloci pede praeterit Voluptas,
Et, qvo blandior, hoc fugacior Spes:-
Ergo, noster amor, vale, Neaera.
Therefore doth Heaven divide
The state of man in divers functions,
Setting endeavour in continual motion;
To which is fixed, as an aim or butt,
Obedience: for so work the honey-bees;
Creatures that, by a rule in nature, teach
The act of order to a peopled kingdom.
They have a king, and officers of sorts:
Where some, like magistrates, correct at home;
Others, like merchants, venture trade abroad;
Others, like soldiers, armed in their stings,
Make boot upon the summer's velvet buds;
Which pillage they with merry march bring home
To the tent royal of their emperor:
Who, busied in his majesty, surveys
The singing masons building roofs of gold;
The civil citizens kneading up the honey;
The poor mechanic porters crowding in
Their heavy burdens at his narrow gate;
The sad-eyed justice, with his surly hum,
Delivering o'er to executors pale
The lazy yawning drone.
Who killed Cock Robin?
I, says the Sparrow,
With my bow and arrow,
I killed Cock Robin.
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