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The Third Satire of Juvenal
The Sixth Satire of Juvenal
The Tenth Satire of Juvenal
The Sixteenth Satire of Juvenal

244 267 307


Translations from Persius.
Prologue to the First Satire
The First Satire of Persius
The Second Satire of Persius
The Third Satire of Persius
The Fourth Satire of Persius
The Fifth Satire of Persius
The Sixth Satire of Persius

340 342 355 363 375 383 398

Translations from Homer.

The First Book of Homer's Ilias

4II The last Parting of Hector and Andromache, from the Sixth Book of the Iliad


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From the Thirteenth Book of



HE chiefs were set, the soldiers crown'd

the field:
To these the master of the sevenfold

Upstarted fierce: and kindled with disdain,
Eager to speak, unable to contain
His boiling rage, he roll'd his


around The shore, and Grecian gallies hall’d a-ground. Then stretching out his hands, O Jove, he cry'd, Must then our cause before the fleet be try'd ? And dares Ulysses for the prize contend, In fight of what he durft not once defend? VOL. IV.



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But basely fled that memorable day,
When I from Hector's hands redeem'd the flaming

So much 'tis safer at the noisy bar
With words to flourish, than engage in war.
By diff'rent methods we maintain'd our right,
Nor am I made to talk, nor he to fight.
In bloody fields I labour to be great ;
His arms are a smooth tongue, and soft decelt.
Nor need I speak my deeds, for those you
The sun and day are witnesses for me.
Let him who fights unseen relate his own,
And vouch the silent stars, and conscious moon.
Great is the prize demanded, I confess,
But such an abject rival makes it less.
That gift, those honors, he but hop'd to gain,
Can leave no room for Ajax to be vain :
Losing he wins, because his name will be
Ennobled by defeat, who durst contend with me.
Were mine own valour question’d, yet my blood
Without that plea would make my
My fire was Telamon, whose arms, employ'd
With Hercules, these Trojan walls destroy’d;
And who before, with Jason, sent from Greece,
In the first ship brought home the golden fleece:

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Great Telamon from Æacus derives
His birth (th' inquisitor of guilty lives
In shades below; where Sisyphus, whose son
This thief is thought, rolls up the restless heavy

Just Æacus the king of Gods above
Begot: thus Ajax is the third from Jove.
Nor should I seek advantage from my line,
Unless (Achilles) it were mix'd with thine:
As next of kin Achilles' arms I claim
This fellow would ingraft a foreign name
Upon our stock, and the Sisyphian seed
By fraud and theft asserts his father's breed.
Then must I lose these arms, because I came
To fight uncallid, a voluntary name?
Nor fhunn'd the cause, but offer'd you my aid,
While he long lurking was to war betray’d:
Forc'd to the field he came, but in the rear;
And feign'd distraction to conceal his fear:
Till one more cunning caught him in the snare,
(Ill for himself) and dragg’d him into war.
Now let a hero's arms a coward vest,
And he, who Thunn'd all honors, gain the best;

And let me stand excluded from my right,
Robb'd of


kinsinan's arms, who first appear'd in fight. Better for us, at home he had remain'd, Had it been true the madness which he feign'd, Or so believ'd; the less had been our shame, The less his counsellid crime, which brands the

Grecian name; Nor Philoctetes had been left inclos'd In a bare ifle, to wants and pains expos’d, Where to the rocks, with solitary groans, His suff'rings and our baseness he bemoans ; And wishes (so may heav'n his wish fulfil) The due reward to him who caus'd his ill. Now he, with us to Troy's destruction sworn, Our brother of the war, by whom are borne Alcides' arrows, pent in narrow bounds, With cold and hunger pinchd, and pain’d with

wounds, To find him food and clothing, must employ Against the birds the shafts due to the fate of

Yet still he lives, and lives from treason free,
Because he left Ulysses' company:

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