CI.

And when like her, O Sákí, you shall pass
Among the Guests Star-scattered on the Grass,
And in your joyous errand reach the spot
Where I made One-turn down an empty Glass !
From the Persian of OMAR KHAYYÁM.
Paraphrased version of EDWARD FITZGERALD.

TIME.

AN ENIGMA.

EVER eating, never cloying,
All-devouring, all-destroying,
Never finding full repast
Till I eat the world at last.

JONATHAN SWIFT.

II.

LIFE.

THIS LIFE.

THIS Life, which seems so fair,

Is like a bubble blown up in the air
By sporting children's breath,

Who chase it everywhere

And strive who can most motion it bequeath.

And though it sometimes seem of its own might

Like to an eye of gold to be fixed there,
And firm to hover in that empty height,
That only is because it is so light.

-But in that pomp it doth not long appear;
For when 't is most admired, in a thought,
Because it erst was nought, it turns to nought.

WILLIAM DRUMMOND.

THE CHARACTER OF A HAPPY LIFE.

15

How happy is he born and taught
That serveth not another's will;
Whose armor is his honest thought,

And simple truth his utmost skill!

Whose passions not his masters are;
Whose soul is still prepared for death,

225

Not tied unto the world with care
Of public fame or private breath;
Who envies none that chance doth raise,
Or vice; who never understood
How deepest wounds are given by praise,
Nor rules of state, but rules of good;
Who hath his life from rumors freed;
Whose conscience is his strong retreat;
Whose state can neither flatterers feed,
Nor ruin make accusers great;

Who God doth late and early pray

More of his grace than gifts to lend,
And entertains the harmless day

With a well-chosen book or friend,

This man is freed from servile bands
Of hope to rise, or fear to fall;
Lord of himself, though not of lands;
And, having nothing, yet hath all.

SIR HENRY WOTTON.

RETRIBUTION.

Ὀψὲ θεῶν ἀλέουσι μύλοι, ἀλέουσι δὲ λεπτά.

("The mills of the gods grind late, but they grind fine.") -Greek Poet.

THOUGH the mills of God grind slowly, yet they

grind exceeding small;

Though with patience he stands waiting, with exactness grinds he all.

From the German of F. VON LOGAU.

Translation of H. W. LONGFELLOW.

THE LYE

GOE, Soule, the bodie's guest,
Upon a thanklesse arrant;
Feare not to touche the best-
The truth shall be thy warrant;
Goe, since I needs must dye,
And give the world the lye.

Goe tell the court it glowes

And shines like rotten wood;

Goe tell the church it showes
What 's good, and doth no good;
If church and court reply,
Then give them both the lye.

Tell potentates they live

Acting by others' actions

Not loved unlesse they give,

Not strong but by their factions;
If potentates reply,
Give potentates the lye.

Tell men of high condition,
That rule affairs of state,
Their purpose is ambition,
Their practice only hate;
And if they once reply,
Then give them all the lye.

Tell them that brave it most

They beg for more by spending,

Who in their greatest cost
Seek nothing but commending;
And if they make reply,
Spare not to give the lye.

Tell zeale it lacks devotion;
Tell love it is but lust;
Tell time it is but motion;
Tell flesh it is but dust;
And wish them not reply,
For thou must give the lye.

Tell age it daily wasteth;

Tell honor how it alters;
Tell beauty how she blasteth;
Tell favor how she falters;
And as they then reply,
Give each of them the lye.

Tell wit how much it wrangles
In tickle points of nicenesse ;
Tell wisedome she entangles
Herselfe in over wisenesse ;
And if they doe reply,

Straight give them both the lye.

Tell physicke of her boldnesse;

Tell skill it is pretension;

Tell charity of coldnesse;

Tell law it is contention;
And as they yield reply,
So give them still the lye.

Tell fortune of her blindnesse;
Tell nature of decay;