Uterque lati terminus imperi
Fervet tumultu; qua redeunt dies;
Qua solis ad serum cubile
Purpureum spatiatur æquor.

O si liceret dedecus ultimo
Vitare fato! Quid juvat exitus
Orare bellorum? Quid ipsis
Porticibus, gradibusque templi,

Stipata moret turba Quiritium
Pacem reposcens ?-Cum domino venit
Pax ista. Cur segnes

in arma

Vivimus, opprobrio parentum,
Quos, masculorum funere civium
Claræ deceret flamma Numantiæ,
Non more solenni sacrorum
Attonitis placitura Divis?

C. MERIVALE,

COLL. DIV. JOH. SCHOL.

EPIGRAMΜΑΤΑ.

ΣΚΟΤΟΝ ΔΕΔΟΡΚΩΣ.

In fautores Shelleii nostri, difficillimi poëtæ.

Πολλὰ σοφῶς ᾐνίξαθ ̓ ὁ Σέλλιος· οὐ θέμις ἐστὶ
παντοίων ἰέναι πάντα διὰ στομάτων.
ἡμεῖς ταῦτα σύνισμεν· ἑκὰς, ἑκὰς, ὅστις ἀλιτρὸς,
καί τι λέγων ἁπλῶς, καὶ τὰ παλαιὰ φρονῶν.
ἡμεῖς δ ̓ οἱ καινοὶ, καὶ δεξιοὶ, ἢ λάλοι ἀνδρὲς,
οἱ μόνοι ἐκ πάντων χρηστὰ διδασκόμενοι,
τερπόμεθ ̓ ἐν τούτοις μεμυημένοι· οὐδ ̓ ἔλαθ ̓ ἡμᾶς
οὐ φάος ἐν σκοτίοις, οὐ σκότος ἐν φανεροῖς.

SPLENDIDE MENDAX.

Cum Danaus gladio generos sæviret in omnes,
Et conjurata sedula turba manu,

Sola suum leto subduxit Lyncea conjux,

Sola virum patri prætulit, et patriæ.

Dixit et, ostendens celatum in pectore ferrum,
Et duri narrans impia jussa senis :

"Hæc licet edicat genitor, faciantque sorores,
Ob veterem mendax nil moror esse fidem.'

Though from an humble stock, undoubtedly Was fashion'd to much honor. From his cradle He was a scholar, and a ripe and good one; Exceeding wise, fair spoken, and persuading: Lofty and sour to them that loved him not; But to those men that sought him, sweet as summer. And though he were unsatisfied in getting, (Which was a sin,) yet in bestowing, Madam, He was most princely. Ever witness for him Those twins of learning, that he raised in you, Ipswich and Oxford! one of which fell with him, Unwilling to outlive the good that did it; The other, though unfinish'd, yet so famous, So excellent in art, and still so rising, That Christendom shall ever speak his virtue. His overthrow heap'd happiness upon him; For then, and not till then, he felt himself, And found the blessedness of being little : And to add greater honors to his age Than man could give him, he died fearing God. KATH. After my death I wish no other herald, No other speaker of my living actions, To keep mine honor from corruption, But such an honest chronicler as Griffith. Whom I most hated living, thou hast made me, With thy religious truth, and modesty, Now in his ashes honor: peace be with him!

IDEM GRÆCE REDDITUM.

ΓΡΙΦΙΘΟΣ. ΚΑΘΑΡΙΝΑ.

ΓΡ. Οὐκ ἔσθ ̓ ὅπως οὐ τιμιωτάτην φύσιν
ἱερεὺς ὅδ ̓ ἔσχε, δυσγενής περ ὤν, ὅμως.
ἐκ σπαργάνων γὰρ ἦν μὲν ἐν Μούσαις ἀεί,
τούτων τ ̓ ἀκριβῶς ἥψατ ̓ ἦν δ ̓ ἄγαν σοφὸς,
πιθανόν τ ̓ ἐνώμα καὶ μελίγλωσσον στόμα.
τοῖσιν μὲν ἐχθροῖς δυσπροσήγορος, πικρός,
φίλοισι δ ̓ ἡδὺς, ὥσπερ οὐ θέρος ποτέ·
εἰ δ ̓ οὖν ἀπλήστως κερδέων ἐφίετο,
(ταύτῃ γὰρ ἐξήμαρτεν, οὐκ ἄλλως ἐρῶ)
δοῦναί γε μέντοι καὶ μάλ' ἀφθόνῳ χερὶ
πρόθυμος ἦν, δέσποινα-Μαρτυρεῖ δέ μοι
τοῦδ ̓ ἔργα τἀνδρὸς, δίπτυχαι Μουσῶν ἕδραι,
σεμνὴ ξυνωρὶς, ὑμὶν ἃς καθείσατο,
Ιψοῖκε, καὶ σὺ καλλίπυργ ̓ Οξωνία
ὧν ἡ μὲν αὐτῷ ξυμμέτρως διώλετο,
οὐ γὰρ λελεῖσθαι τοῦ κτίσαντος ἤθελε
ἡ δ', ἐνδεής περ τοῦ τελεσθῆναι γ ̓ ἔτι,
ὧδ ̓ ἔστι κλεινὴ, καὶ τέχνημ ̓ ὑπέρσοφον,
καὶ δὴ τοσοῦτον αὔξεται καθ ̓ ἡμέραν,
ὥστ ̓ οὐκ ὀλεῖται τοὔνομ ̓, ὑμνήσει δέ νιν
γῆ πᾶσα, τοὔργου τοῦδ ̓ ἀειμνήστου χάριν.
πεσόντα μέν νυν πλεῖστ ̓ ἂν ὀλβίσαιμ', ἐπεὶ
τὸ τηνίκ' ἤδη τοῦτο μὲν, χρόνῳ ποτὲ
τὴν αὐτὸς αὑτοῦ καρδίαν ἐγνώρισε,
κἄξευρ ̓ ὁποῖον κτῆμα τὸ σμικρὰ φρονεῖν·
μείζω δὲ δή τιν', ἢ κατ ̓ ἀνθρώπου δόσιν,
τιμὴν προσῆψε τήνδ' ὁ γηράσκων χρόνος·
ἔθνησκ ̓ ἐν αὐτῷ τῷ θανεῖν σέβων Θεόν.
ΚΑ. Εἰ γὰρ θανοῦσ ̓ εύροιμι τοιοῦτόν τινα
κήρυχ', ὃς ἔργα τἀμὰ τοῦ βίου φράσει,
ἀκήρατόν τε δόξαν εὖ περιστελεῖ,

σοί γ' ἐξ ὁμοίου πιστὸν ἀψευδὲς στόμα.
Ὃν γὰρ μάλιστα ζῶντ ̓ ἀπήχθαιρον βροτῶν,
τῶν σῶν ἀληθεύσαντος αἰδοίῳ φρενὶ
λόγων ἕκατι, κανδίκου φρονήματος,
τιμᾶ θανόντα τοῦτον—εἰρήνης τύχοι.

C. R. KENNEDY,

COLL. SS. TRIN. SCHOL.

112

OXFORD ENGLISH PRIZE POEM,

FOR 1829.

VOYAGES OF DISCOVERY TO THE POLAR REGIONS.

ON northern shores the year's untimely close
Has mantled Nature in her garb of snows;
The glorious sun is sinking into gloom,
As youth before its time into the tomb:
And in the keen clear air, as fade away
The streamy splendors of departing day,
Fantastic shapes of crystal' fretwork gleam,
And drink a borrow'd lustre from his beam.
O'erarch'd with colors bright as those which die
The sign of promise in the summer sky,
Shines his last setting: rays of brilliant hue
Spangle the cloudless heaven's unsullied blue,
Like smiles at parting, often loveliest, when
The hearts they sever ne'er shall meet again.

"Tis past night deepens o'er yon vessel's prow
Embank'd in ice and bedded round with snow:
Above-sad greeting to a seaman's eye-
The furl'd and idle sails flap mournfully:
Around, o'er scenes of dead and dull repose,
The midnight moon her ghastly radiance throws,
Or shines the northern light with meteor fire,
And dims the lustre of the starry quire :
Tinged with pale rays gigantic icebergs rise
And lift their spectral summits to the skies:
Like the grey shadows of departed years,
Dimly distinct, each towering form appears.

Desolate land! how wild, uncultured, rude,
Thy drear expanse of boundless solitude-
The desert whiteness of the snow-clad hill-
The lifeless stream-but thou art lovely still!

For verdant meads, when summer months have smiled,

Like green Oases in the Libyan wild,

Bloom on the plain: fountains and bright cascades
Gem the dark woods, and glitter in the glades,

Nothing in the shape of a cloud was formed, but whatever little moisture might be in the air was seen floating about in very minute spiculæ, assuming various forms of crystallization.-Quarterly Review,

XXV. 198.

And o'er the tangled brake and steep ravine
In sombre clusters grows the lichen'd pine:
While flowers, that sprang unseen in mossy dells,
Their scentless buds enclosed in crystal cells,
Smile on the curious eye with varied hue,
And rise in living loveliness to view.

Oh! for the light of Nature's beauty now
To smooth with hope the seaman's anxious brow!
For here, though frozen damps' around him hung,
And pains intense the sinewy limb unstrung,
Day after day, in darkness and despair,
He plied the unvaried task with ready care,
And brush'd the tear-drop from his manly eye,
As wayward fancy glanced to days gone by.
And when he nightly knelt in praise-to bless
The Guide-the Guardian of his loneliness,
"Twas sweet to think that in the land he loved,
From that one heart, by long affection proved,
To the same God who watch'd his drear repose
The same fond prayer and suppliant sigh arose.

Oh! if we cherish holy thoughts in joy,
When flows life's cup of sweets without alloy-
If amid smiles the hope of heaven appears
Glorious and bright-how passing bright in tears!
His faint and wayworn few when Franklin led
O'er pathless wilds-the regions of the dead-
One miscreant saw with keen and envious eye
Their scanty food his comrade's wants supply;
Raised high the hand, and dealt the deadly blow,
With murder stamp'd in fire upon his brow;
Then on the bleeding form of him he slew
Fix'd his stern gaze-nor madden'd at the view!
But he was one, whose dark and clouded sight

2

Heaven, with its countless worlds of glory bright—
Earth, waving with fair flowers and herbage green-
Ocean, with tribes untold and depths unseen-
Enlighten'd not, nor on the untutor❜d breast

The holier image of his God impress'd.

The breath and other vapour accumulated during the night in the bed-places and on the beams, and then immediately froze.-Parry's Vovages.

2 Michel, the murderer of Mr. Hood, was one of the Iroquois: and though his countrymen are generally Christians, was totally uninstructed and ignorant of the duties of religion.-Franklin's Voyages.

VOL. XL.

CI. JI.

NO. LXXIX.

H