Translation by the Rev. J. H. Clark, M. A. West Dereham, Norfolk.

WEET sorrow, mightier than any smile,
That bright with tears those gleaming

stars have made!

How soft her breath, as o'er that face awhile
The Graces cast a sympathetic shade!

Tears gem her cheek, bright almost as her eyes,
And drench the living roses with warm rain :

My fortune tell, Chaldeans! when the skies
Are cloudless, and day parts without a stain.

TO ETESIA GOING BEYOND SEA.

10, if you must! but stay-and know
And mind before you go, my vow.

To ev'ry thing, but heav'n and you,
With all my heart, I bid adieu!
Now to those happy shades I'le go
Where first I saw my beauteous foe!
I'le seek each silent path, where we

Did walk; and where you sate with me
I'le sit again, and never rest

Till I can find some flow'r you prest.

That near my dying heart I'le keep,

And when it wants dew, I will weep:

Sadly I will repeat past joyes

And words, which you did sometimes voice:

I'le listen to the woods, and hear

The eccho answer for you there.

But famish'd with long absence I

Like infants left, at last shall cry,

And tears-as they do milk-will sup

Until you come, and take me up.

ETESIA ABSENT.

OVE, the world's life! what a sad death Thy absence is! to lose our breath At once and dye, is but to live Inlarg'd, without the scant reprieve Of pulse and air: whose dull returns And narrow circles the soul mourns. But to be dead alive, and still To wish, but never have our will: To be possess'd, and yet to miss,

To wed a true but absent bliss:

Are ling'ring tortures, and their smart
Dissects and racks and grinds the heart!
As soul and body in that state

Which unto us, seems separate,

Cannot be said to live, until

Reunion; which dayes fulfill

And slow-pac'd seasons: so in vain
Through hours and minutes-Time's long

train

I look for thee, and from thy sight,

As from my soul, for life and light.
For till thine eyes shine so on me,
Mine are fast-clos'd and will not see.

DE SALMONE.

Ad virum optimum, et sibi familiarius notum: Dr. Thomam Poellum Cantrevensem: S. S. Theologiæ Doctorem.

CCIPE prærapido salmonem in gurgite captum,

Ex imo in summas cum penetrasset

aquas,

Mentitæ culices quem forma elusit inanis :

Picta coloratis plumea musca notis.

Dum captat, capitur; vorat inscius, ipse vorandus;
Fitque cibi raptor grata rapina mali.

Alma quies! miseræ merces ditissima vitæ,
Quam tuto in tacitis hic latuisset aquis!

Qui dum spumosi fremitus et murmura rivi

Quæritat, hamato sit cita præda cibo, Quam grave magnarum specimen dant ludicra rerum?

Gurges est mundus: salmo, homo: pluma, dolus.

WITH A GIFT OF A SALMON, SENT TO THAT FAMOUS AND BEST OF MEN, MY DEAR FRIEND, DR. THOMAS POWELL: A TRANSLATION BY THE EDITOR.

CCEPT the salmon that with this I send
To you renown'd and best-beloved friend;
Caught 'neath the Fall, where mid the
whirling foam

O' the quick-darting Usk, he just had come
Twas thus in brief: the treach'rous-colour'd fly
For a meal, guil'd his unprophetic eye,
So catching at it, he himself was caught:
Swallowing it down, this evil fate he wrought,
- His only purpose being then to dine-
Lo! to be swallow'd, swiftly he was mine:
Misled by his gay-painted fly astray,
Of angler's rod he is the welcome prey.
Benign retirement! (Full reward to me
For all my life's thick-coming misery :)

How safe this salmon-and long years have seen

If he content in the still pools had been :
But soon as for the thund'ring Fall he craves,

To bound and flash amidst its tossing waves,

He leaps to seize what seems a noble prize,
And gulps the hidden hook whereon he dies.

Often are little things the types of great:
Look thee around, and with all this thoul't meet.
The foamy Fall the world is, and man, the fish ;
The plum'd hook, sin guis'd in some lordly dish.