II.

NUGATOR merus, at nec inficetus,
Tuas, et Veneris, fero catenas.
Nugas mille dabo, dabo libenter,
Gemmas, pallia, Chia vina, pisces,
Pæsti florea serta, serta Pindi.
Nugas mille loquor, loquor disertus,
Preces, blanditias, jocos, amores,
Quotquot sint, Veneres Cupidinesque.
Tu nugas mihi mille conferenti,
Tu nugas mihi milie garrienti,
Compresso memoras, Chloe, susurro
Aras, flammea, nuptias, pudorem,
Et quantum est hominum severiorum.
Aut

nugas precor aut nihil! valeto; Nimis seria, mi Chloe, laboras.

III.

CAVEBIS, Abra, dum Cupidinum curæ
Periculosis te morantur in nugis;
Dum Veneris arma ludicro cies bello,
Nutus, susurros, lacrymas, jocos, risus,

Lyrâque sæpe, sæpe melleo cantu
Formosa mentes implicas reluctantes.
Semper Venus dolosa! serium quiddam
Nugaris, Abra, quæ venusta nugaris.

IV.

CODRUS ait, promens epigrammata, 'Nil nisi nugæ!"

Nostra tuæ nugæ sunt mala,-nos legimus.

SCRIBIMUS INDOCTI DOCTIQUE.

I.

VERE novo, quo prata tepent, ardentque poetæ,
Et citharæ, et celeres suave loquuntur aquæ,
Serus Apollinea sternit se Daphnis in umbra,
Et parat intonso thura precesque Deo.

"Phoebe pater, dum tanta cohors te poscit amatque,
Dum rapiunt laurus tot fera labra tuas,—
Dum totoque foro, totoque impune Suburra,
Bacchantur tristes, esuriuntque, chori,—

Dum resonant Aganippeo loca cuncta tumultu,

Templa Deum, montes, antra, macella, casa,— Dum nihil est nisi-'cara Venus !'--' formose Cupido!'

Angor, amor, cineres, vulnera, mella, rosa,-Quid valeat tanta Daphnin secernere turba? Unde novo discat Daphnis honore frui?

Quid faciam ut propria decorem mea tempora lauru? Dic mihi, quid faciam ?"--dixit Apollo, "tace!"

(This was one of the Cambridge Prize Epigrams for 1824.)

TRANSLATION OF THE FOREGOING.

THE fields in spring were blossoming with poets and with flowers,

And silver streams, and golden dreams, were babling in the bowers,

When Daphnis lay at close of day within a shady

hollow,

And filled the air with smoke and prayer, in honor of Apollo.

"Far-darting King of pipe and string,--while such a host of suits

"Are made to thee, unceasingly, for laurels and for lutes,

"While far and wide, on every side, from Bond street to the Fleet,

"Some rhyme for praise, and some for bays, and multitudes for meat,—

“While verse and prose our feet enclose, whatever scene we search,

"In feast, and fair, and market square, in parliament and church,

"While Paphian smiles, and Cupid's wiles, fill all our ears with vanity,

"And rosy chains, and pleasing pains, and fiddles and insanity,-

66

'By what new art shall Daphnis start from out the herd of fools?

"What wreath or name shall Daphnis claim unheard of in the schools?

"What shall I leave that fame may weave a garland all my own?"

"Leave!" said the God, with fragrant nod,--“ Why, leave it all alone!"

II.

SIMPLES and sages

All write in these pages!-
As many a weary witling knows,
I'm Susan's Album! I enclose
Within my green morocco covers
The triflings of a score of lovers,
Roses, lilies, sighings, sadness,
All the armory of madness.

In Susan's Album,-for it's true
That Susan is a little blue,-

All sorts of people rave and rant,
Both those who can, and those who can't;
And Susan smiles on each sweet ditty
In which her witless slaves grow witty,
And says to all her scribbling suitors-
"Queen Venus is the best of tutors !”