Page 128, line 23. Lo, on his back a Son brings in his Sire. An act of filial piety represented on the coins of Catana, a Greek city, some remains of which are still to be seen at the foot of Mount Etna. The story is told of two brothers, who in this manner saved both their parents. The place, from which they escaped, was long called the Field of the Pious; and public games were annually held there to commemorate the event. Page 128, line 27. From harp or organ! What a pleasing picture of domestic life is given to us by Bishop Berkeley in his letters! "The more we have of good instruments the better: for all my children, not excepting my little daughter, learn to play, and are preparing to fill my house with harmony against all events; that, if we have worse times, we may have better spirits." Page 129, line 1. And with assurance sweet her soul revive See the Alcestis of Euripides, v. 328. Page 129, line 5. Who lives not for another. How often, says an excellent writer, do we err in our estimate of happiness! When I hear of a man who has noble parks, splendid palaces, and every luxury in life, I always inquire whom he has to love; and if I find he has nobody or does not love those he has-in the midst of all his grandeur I pronounce him a being in deep adversity. Page 129, line 14. O thou all-eloquent, whose mighty mind. Cicero. It is remarkable that, among the comforts of Ol 1 It is introduced also, and very happily, by two great masters. by Virgil in the Sack of Troy and by Raphael in the Incendio Borgo. e, he has not mentioned those arising from the society of men and children. Perhaps the husband of Terentia and e father of Marcus felt something on the subject, of which was willing to spare himself the recollection." Page 131, line 24. And stars are kindling in the firmament. An old writer breaks off in a very lively manner at a later r of the night. "But the Hyades run low in the heavens, to keep our eyes open any longer were to act our Anties. The Huntsmen are up in America, and they are ady past their first sleep in Persia." Before I conclude, I would say something in favour of the -fashioned triplet, which I have here ventured to use so en. Dryden seems to have delighted in it, and in many his poems has used it much oftener than I have done, as instance in the Hind and Panther,1 and in Theodore and noria, where he introduces it three, four, and even five mes in succession. If I have erred anywhere in the structure of my verse m a desire to follow yet earlier and higher examples, I on the forgiveness of those in whose ear the music of our versification is still sounding.2 Pope used to mention this poem as the most correct specimen of y len's versification. It was indeed written when he had cometely formed his manner, and may be supposed to exhibit, neglie excepted, his deliberate and ultimate scheme of metre.ENSON. With regard to trisyllables, as their accent is very rarely on the , they cannot properly be any rhymes at all: yet nevertheless I aly commend those, who have judiciously and sparingly intro ed them, as such.-GRAY. L ODE TO SUPERSTITION. 1786. I. 1. ENCE, to the realms of Night, dire Thy chain of adamant can bind And sink its noblest powers to impotence. Clot his shaggy mane with gore, With flashing fury bid his eye-balls shine; breast, пашвона Whence, thro' her April-shower, soft Pity smiled; Has closed the heart each godlike virtue blessed, To all the silent pleadings of his child,1 At thy command he plants the dagger deep, At thy command exults, tho' Nature bids him weep! I. 2. When, with a frown that froze the peopled earth," Ha! what withering phantoms glare! 1 The sacrifice of Iphigenia. 2 Lucretius, I. 63. As blows the blast with many a sudden swell, At each dead pause, what shrill-toned voices yell! The sheeted spectre, rising from the tomb, Points to the murderer's stab, and shudders by In every grove is felt a heavier gloom, That veils its genius from the vulgar eye: The spirit of the water rides the storm, And, thro' the mist, reveals the terrors of his form. I. 3. O'er solid seas, where Winter reigns, And holds each mountain-wave in chains, The fur-clad savage, ere he guides his deer By glistering star-light thro' the snow, Breathes softly in her wondering ear Each potent spell thou bad'st him know. By thee inspired, on India's sands, Full in the sun the Brahmin stands; And, while the panting tigress hies To quench her fever in the stream, His spirit laughs in agonies, Smit by the scorchings of the noontide beam She hurls the torch! she fans the fire! She clasps her lord to part no more, The funeral rite of the Hindoos. The Fates of the Northern Mythology.-See MALLET'S Antiquities. Page 117, line 20. Lovely before, oh, say how lovely now! Is it not true, that the young not only appear to be, but really are most beautiful in the presence of those they love? It calls forth all their beauty. Page 118, line 30. And feeling hearts-touch them but rightly—pour Xenophon has left us a delightful instance of conjugal affection. The King of Armenia not fulfilling his promise, Cyrus entered the country, and, having taken him and all his family prisoners, ordered them instantly before him. Armenian, said he, you are free; for you are now sensible of your error. And what will you give me, if I restore your wife to you?-All that I am able.-What, if I restore your children?-All that I am able.-And you, Tigranes, said he, turning to the Son, What would you do, to save your wife from servitude? Now Tigranes was but lately married, and had a great love for his wife. Cyrus, he replied, to save her from servitude, I would willingly lay down my life. Let each have his own again, said Cyrus; and, when he was departed, one spoke of his clemency; and another of his valour; and another of his beauty and the graces of his person. Upon which Tigranes asked his wife, if she thought him handsome. Really, said she, I did not look at him.At whom then did you look ?—At him who said he would lay down his life for me.—Cyropædia, 1. iii. Page 119, line 21. He turns their thoughts to Him who made them all. "When such is the ruling, the habitual sentiment of our minds," says Paley, "the world becomes a temple and life itself one continued act of worship."-We breathe aspirations all day long. Page 120, line 23. Through the night. Hers the mournful privilege," adsidere valetudini, fovere deficientem, satiari vultu, complexu."-TACITUS. |