mino aluntur. Britannia verò servitutem suam
cotidie emit, cotidie pascit. Ac sicut in familia
recentissimus quoque servorum et conservis in lu-
dibrio est, sic nos, in hoc orbis terrarum veteri fa-
mulatu, novi et viles in excidium patimur. Neque
enim nobis arva, aut metalla, aut portus sunt, qui-
bus exercendis reservemur. Virtus autem ac fe-
rocia subjectorum, ingrata imperantibus, et longin-
quitas et secretum ipsum, quo tutius eo suspectiùs.
Ita sublata spe veniæ, tandem sumite animum tam
quibus libertas, quam quibus gloria carissima est.
Brigantes, fœmina duce! exurere coloniam, ex-
pugnare castra, ac (nisi felicitas in socordiam ver-
tisset) exuere jugum potuere. Nos integri, et in-To us, submission would itself prove vain ;
domiti, et libertatem non in præsentiâ laturi, primo
statim concursu non ostendemus, quos sibi Cale-
donia seposuerit viros? An eadem Romanis in
bello virtutem quam in pace luxuriam adesse cre-
ditis? Nostris illi dissensionibus ac discordiis clari,
vitia hostium in gloriam exercitûs sibi vertunt;
quem contractum ex diversissimis gentibus ut se-
cundæ res tenent, ita adversæ dissolvent; nisi si
Gallos et Germanos, et (pudet dictu) Britannorum
plerosque dominationi alienæ sanguinem commo-
dantes, diutius tamen hostes quam servos, fide et
affectu teneri putatis. Metus et terror sunt in-
firma vincula caritatis, quæ ubi removeris, qui ti-
mere desierint, odisse incipient.--Omnia victoriæ
incitamenta pro nobis sunt. Nullæ Romanos con-
juges accendunt; nulli parentes fugam exproba-
turi sunt; aut nulla plerisque patria est, aut alia.
Paucos numerus circa trepidos ignorantia, cœlum-
que ipsum, ac mare, ac silvas, ignota omnia cir-
cumspectantes; clausos quodammodo et vinctos
dii nobis tradiderunt. Ne terreat vanus aspectus,
et auri fulgor et argenti, quod neque tegit neque
vulnerat. In ipsa hostium acie inveniemus nostras
manus! agnoscent Britanni suam causam! recor-
dabuntur Galli priorem libertatem! deserent illos
cæteri Germani (ut nuper Usipii reliquerunt !-
Nec quidam ultra formidinis, vacua castella, senum
coloniæ, inter male parentes, et injuste imperantes,
ægra municipia et discordantia! hic dux, hic ex-
ercitus !ibi tributa et metalla et cætera servi-
entium pœnæ quas in æternum proferre, aut sta-
tim ulcisci, in hoc campo est. Proinde ituri in
aciem et majores vestros, et posteros cogitate!
These arms, my friends! that never felt their chain,
These arms must Britain's latest hopes sustain :
Beneath their yoke surrounding nations groan,
Our country's safety lives in us alone!
On us her longing eyes impatient wait,
On us depends her everlasting fate!
All further means of refuge now are vain,
And death or liberty alone remain ;
In vain amongst these rocks we hop'd to find
Peace and the native freedom of mankind;
Ev'n here, our foes, our last retreat have found,
And envy us th' uncultivated ground:
Nor think submission can prevent our chain,
THE SPEECH OF GALGACUS.
TRANSLATED.
Felices errore suo, quos ille timorum
Maximus, haud urget lethi metus, inde ruendi
In ferrum mens prona viris, animique capaces
Mortis, et ignavum redituræ parcere vitæ !
When stopp'd beneath the Grampian's rugged
height,
The Roman eagles check'd their prædal flight;
While every pow'r that watch'd Britannia's fate,
In silence, seem'd the doubtful day to wait!
In terms like these great Galgacus address'd
His faithful few! and eas'd his lab'ring breast!
"WHEN round this camp I cast my ravish'd eyes,
And view the glorious cause that bids us rise!
Methinks the long expected hour is come,
To stop the progress of usurping Rome!
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See from their hands what mercy will ye find?
These civiliz'd destroyers of mankind!
Whose boundless lust of riches and of sway,
Has ravag'd all the wasted world for prey;
And like a marching plague, by fraud or force,
Has blasted nature in its deadly course!
With specious arts has veil'd its baneful face,
Call'd rapine virtue, and destruction peace!—
See! wheresoe'er their conq'ring arms have gone,
What woes attend the vanquish'd and undone ?
View sons and brothers, from their dwellings torn,
In distant lands their servile fortune mourn!
Our faithful matrons, and our spotless maids,
Their guile seduces, or their pow'r invades !
Their goods and lands, the haughty victor's spoil,
Themselves reserv'd as slaves to work the soil!
Compell'd, through blows and hardships, to obey,
And wear in ceaseless tasks slow life away:
Others by birth may wear the cursed chain,
And drudge for those who do their life sustain;
But Britain daily aids the yoke she scorns,
And feeds that insolence and pride she mourns:
As in domestic usage to the rest,
Still the last slave becomes a constant jest ;
So we, the last of uninslav'd mankind,
Shall be the sport and laughter of our kind!
Nor fields have we to till, nor mines to drain,
Nor ports to open for the victor's gain :
But rocks and woods are all the wealth we boast,
And yet our all we lose,-when these are lost!
Let freedom, then my friends! your souls inspire,
And warm your bosoms with heroic fire!
If led to conquest by a female hand,
Rome scarce a British heroine could withstand;
But to her ancient cunning had recourse,
And triumph'd by division, not by force;
In us, as yet unalter'd, firm and free,
Her boasted sons, let Caledonia see!
To whose known virtue she commits her cause,
And trusts her future liberty and laws:-
Nor think the Roman force in battle try'd
Equals their home-bred luxury and pride;
In our dissentions half their hope their place,
And raise their trophies on our own disgrace;
From distant climes they form their venal bands,
Whom plunder arms, and ill success disbands;
Nor think or Gauls or Germans are so blind,
To waste their blood, a hated yoke to bind?
Terrour and fear are slender ties of love, [move,
Which when your conqu'ring arms shall once re-
Will soon transform'd to nobler passions glow,
And aid our vengeance on the common foe!
For us, success displays its fairest charms,
To fire our hearts, and animate our arms.
No wives the Romans have, no helpless friends,
Whose life and safety on their own depends;
No native land have theyor distant far,
Unjust their cause, and unprovok'd the war ;
See! how surpris'd they view the wilds around,
And trembling tread along the hostile ground!
Through woods and rocks direct their cautious way,
And seem distrustful ev'n of earth and sea!
Bewilder'd, thus, to our avenging hand
The righteous gods have given this lawless band :—
Dread not their haughty mien, and glitt'ring show,
A weak defence against a valiant foe!
Vain are the rays their splendid dresses send,
Gaudy to shine, but useless to defend ;
Amongst themselves we may on aid depend,
And every Briton is our secret friend;
For us they wish-while for the foe they fight,
And in their hearts assist our social right!
Once let your virtue break the force you see,
Your injur'd country is for ever free!
Before your eyes, your latest choice remains,
Freedom, or death, or everlasting chains;
This to enjoy, or under these to groan,
Depends, my friends! upon yourselves alone;
Think that your generous ancestors were free!
If they were so-what must your children be?
Undaunted then the paths of honour try,
And live with freedom, or with glory die!"
RESPONSIO M. CATONIS AD LABIENUM,
DE ORACULO AMMONIS CONSULENDO.
Errat, si quis putat hanc vocem M. Catonis, ipsius non oraculi esse, Quid enim est oraculum? nempe voluntas divina ore hominis enuntiata. Et quem tandem antistitem digniorem invenire sibi potuit divinitas quam M. Catonem ?
ILLE Deo plenus, tacito quem mente gerebat,
Effudit dignas adytis e pectore voces:
"Quid quæri Labiene, jubes?—an liber in armis
Occubuisse velim, potiùs quam regna videre?
An sit vita nihil, sed longum differet ætas ?
An noceat vis ulla bono? fortunaque perdat
Opposita virtute minas? laudandaque velle
Sit satis? et nunquam successu crescat hones-
tum?
Scimus, et hoc nobis non altius inseret Ammon !—
Hæremus cuncti superis, temploque tacente
Nil facimus non sponte Dei; nec vocibus ullis
Numen egit; dixitque semel nascentibus auctor
Quicquid scire licet; sterileis non legit arenas
Ut canerent paucis-mersitque hoc pulvere verum!
Estne Dei sedes nisi terra, et pontus et aer
Et cœlum et virtus ? - superos quid quærimus
Juppiter est quodcunque vides, quocunque moveris !
Sortilegis egeant dubii! semperque futuris
Casibus ancipites; me non oracula certum
Sed mors certa facit-pavido fortique cadendum
est,
Hoc satis est dixisse Jovem."-Sic ille præfatur
Servataque fide, templi discedit ab 'aris
Non exploratum, populis, Ammona relinquens.
Victrix causa diis placuit, sed victa Catoni.
FULL of that pow'r, whose light inspir'd his breast,
Great Cato answer'd thus the chief's request:-
"What, Labienus? dost thou seek to know?
Is it our chance in arms against the foe?
Or shall we doubt all evils to sustain,
Ere Rome be fetter'd, or a Cæsar reign?
Is life then nothing but protracted breath?
Or slavery a slighter ill than death?
Must virtue take its colour from success,
Or docs opposing fortune make it less?
While nobly we assert the righteous cause,
Of suffering liberty, and injur'd laws,
Do we not act like Romans and like men?
Or must precarious chance direct the scene?
All this we know ourselves-nor can the pow'r
That rules these hallow'd shrines inform us more:-
Though dumb the oracle, he speaks his mind
In lively characters to all mankind?
Gilds life's first dawn with reason's heav'nly rays,
And takes the tribute of imperfect praise!
Ev'n nature, here in silence, sounds his name,
And these vast wilds omnipotence proclaim!
The fire, the earth, the seas, and ambient air
Point out his wisdom, and his pow'r declare!
In Heaven and virtuous minds he makes abode,
Through all her works creation owns his nod;
Beneath, around us, and display'd above,
Whate'er we see, where'er we go, is Jove!
Let others, anxious for their doubtful fate,
On the dark oracle's decision wait!
'Tis death, whom coward and hero must obey,
'Tis certain death takes all my cares away;
Or soon, or late, we all are doom'd to fall,
Jove speaks by me this lesson to you all!"—
So said the god-like chief his legions join'd,
And left the unconsulted priest behind.
BOOK I. ODE XI. IMITATED.
FORBEAR, my friend! with idle schemes,
To search into the maze of fate;
Your horoscopes are airy dreams,
Your coffee-tossing all a cheat!
What adds it to our real peace,
To know life's accidents or date? The knowledge would our pains increase, And make us more unfortunate.
Wisely conceal'd in endless night,
Has Heav'n wrapp'd up its dark decrees; The view, too strong for human sight, Might else destroy our present ease!
Then gladly use the courting hour,
Enjoy, and make it all your own!
And pull with haste the fairest flow'r,
Ere Time's quick hand have cut it down.
Where some fair spreading chesnut grows,
And near a murm'ring fountain flows,
Give me repose to find!
There with their own celestial fire,
Let all the Nine my breast inspire;
And raise my ravish'd mind!
Then should the lyre resound thy praise, And consecrate its fav'rite lays
To thee, the Muse's friend: Immortaliz'd by these, thy fame Should, with their happy master's name, To latest days descend!
With this, beneath the friendly shade, Surround thy careless master's head,
And then adorn thy own: The fragrant plant shall gaily shine, Shall aid the generous joys of wine, And form a grateful crown!
BOOK III. ODE XXVI. IMITATED.
LATE unconfin'd, as fleeting air,
I gaily rov'd amongst the fair;
And in my yielding heart,
As sov'reign beauty gave the law,
From every lovely face I saw,
Receiv'd the pleasing dart!
But now, fair Venus! queen divine! I hang beside thy honour'd shrine The consecrated lyre!
No more thy charming wars I prove, No more the powerful joys of love My feeble breast can fire!
Yet, Venus! ere thy faithful slave
Thy altars quit, thy service leave;
Let him one grace implore!
Let stubborn Cælia own thy sway,
Make her imperious heart obey!
My vows shall ask no more!-
BOOK IV. ODE II, PART IMITATED.
WHO strives, my friend, with fruitless toil, To rise to Prior's matchless style,
But makes his folly known: He, like a first-rate star sublime, Shines in a sphere, where none can climb, And draws his light from none !
Or like some river swell'd with rain,
That swift-descending o'er the plain,
Impetuous shapes its course;
So his inimitable lays
Still charm the heart a thousand ways,
With irresistless force!
Whether he make his glorious theme, Immortal Nassau's godlike name;
Or pleas'd in Windsor's groves, Attunes his lyre to gentler sounds, And with his notes assembles round The Graces and the Loves!
Or whether Love his strains inspire, To sing the constant Henry's fire!
Or paint the nut-brown fair: Like the white swan's expiring strain, So soft the dying notes complain, And charm the list'ning ear!
Aw'd as his beauties I explore,
With distant reverence I adore,
The bard's exalted height:
Like the laborious bee I rove,
And o'er the field, or through the grove,
Obscurely wing my flight.-****
OMNIA quæ sensu voluntnr vota diurno,
Pectori sopito reddit amica quies.
Venator defessa toro cum membia reponit,
Mens tamen ad sylvas et sua lustra redit;
Judicibus lites, aurigis somnia curris,
Vanaque nocturnis meta cavetur equis;
Me quoque Musarum studium sub nocte silenti
Artibus assuetis sollicitare solet.
THOSE pleasures still in which the mind delights,
Employ our dreams, and entertain our nights!
The huntsman, wearied with his toilsome sports,
Still haunts the covert, or the glade resorts;
In sleep the judge hangs o'er the noisy bar,
In sleep the victor drives the rapid car!
With fancy'd coursers turns the imagin'd round,
Whirls o'er the distance, and attains the bound!
In sleep the lover does his mistress hold,
In sleep the miser trembles o'er his gold;
In sleep the merchant, safe secur'd on shore,
Fancies the storm, and dreads his ventur'd store;
Me too, in sleep, the much-lov'd Muses love,
Point to the mead, or lead me through the grove;
Where to chaste minds they all their charms reveal,
A joy unknown by all-but those who feel!
CATULLUS.
(DE SEPULCHRO suo.)
Di faciant mea ne terrâ locet ossa frequenti
Qua facit assiduo tramite vulgus iter;
Post mortem tumuli sic infamantur amantum,
Me teget arboreâ devia terra comâ!
Aut humet ignotæ cumulus vallatus arense
Non juvat in medio nomen habere viæ.
THE stately monument let others raise,
And seek by art to live till future days;
To stone or brass their hope of fame intrust,
The flatt'ring marble, or deceitful bust !
No pompous ornaments my wishes crave,
But simple as my life, I wish my grave!
When Fate impartial calls this fleeting breath,
And every tie dissolving yields to death;
To the kind bosom whence I took my birth,
Commit the remnant of returning earth;
Far from the common graves, and public way,
Peaceful inter th' inauimated clay,
In some fair mead, some wood-enshelter'd ground,
Or near some bubbling fountain's soothing sound,
Where no rude hand my ashes may invade,
Disturb my urn, or fright my watchful shade;
Green be the spot beneath, and over head
Let some fair tree its guardian umbrage spread!
Light lie the earth, and hallow'd be the ground,
And flow'rs in sweet profusion rise around!
Let others servile beat the common road,
A poet dead or living scorns a crowd!
HAPPY the laws that in those climes obtain,
Where the bright morning reddens all the main !
There, whensoe'er the happy husband dies,
And on the funeral couch extended lies;
His faithful wives around the scene appear,
With pompous dress and a triumphant air;
For partnership in death, ambitious strive,
And dread the shameful fortune to survive!
Adorn'd with flowers the lovely victims stand,
With smiles ascend the pile, and light the brand!
Grasp their dear partners with unalter'd faith,
And yield exulting to the fragrant death'.
EX CORN. GALLI ELEG. II.
(AD UXOREM.)
SUM grandevus ego, nec tu minus alba capillis,
Par ætas animos conciliare solet;
Si modo non possum, quondam potuisse memento
Sit satis ut placeam, me placuisse prius.
Permanet invalidis reverentia prisca colonis,
Quod fuit in vetulo milite, miles amat;
Rusticus expertum deflet cessisse juvencum;
Cum quo consenuit miles honorat equum;
Nec me adeò primis spoliavit floribus ætas,
En facio versus, et mea dicta cano!
And by the honest master's hearth is found,
Compos'd to sleep, the antiquated hound!
By these instructed, learn to compromise,
Let past atone for want of present joys!
Nor yet condemn me as disabled quite,
If I can do no more-you see I write :
Still make our former loves my pleasing theme,
And, in default of passion, give you fame!
SANNAZARII EPIGRAMMA IN VENETIAM1.
VIDERAT Hadriacis, Venetam Neptunus in undis
Stare diù, et toto ponere juga mari;
"Nunc mihi Tarpeias quantumvis Juppiter Arces
Objice, et illa tui mænia Martis! (ait)
Sic Pelago Tybrim præfers, urbemque aspice utramque
Illam homines dices, hanc posuisse Deos!"
As Neptune saw, with fond delighted eyes,
From Adria's waves his fav'rite Venice rise!
A length extended o'er the liquid plain!
And sit the sovereign of the subject main,
"Now vanquish'd Jove !" (the God exulting cry'd)
"Extol no more thy Rome's imperial pride;
View but this lovely empress of the sea,
Her floating tow'rs and palaces survey!
As well may Tyber with the ocean vie,
Or mortal builders emulate the sky."
IN MORTEM JO. BAPT. MOLIERE,
HISTRIONIS CELEBERRIMI EPIGRAMMA.
Roscius hic situs est tristi Molieris in urnâ,
Cui genus humanum ludere, lusus erat;
Dum ludit Mortem, Mors indignata jocantem
Corripit, et sæva fingere mimum negat.
SINCE creeping age has seiz'd us like a dream,
Then be our state and sentiments the same;
If now no more to love my form invite,
Reflect you once beheld it with delight;
And let the merit of preceding days
Plead for th' enjoyment of immediate ease!
Or fruitless if these vain persuasions fail,
Let nature, with experience join'd, prevail!
The veteran colony its worth sustains,
And though the place decays, the name remains !
The soldier once dismiss'd-his labours done,
Retires to rest, and shows his trophies won;
The grateful farmer feeds the feeble steer,
Whose faithful toil produc'd his plenteous year;
1 Mr. Prior justly observes of this barbarous Indian custom,
In Europe 't would be hard to find,
"Of all the sex, one half so kind."
HARD fate! within this urn Moliere's confin'd,
Whose humour hit the faults of all mankind,
Such in his page the living picture shown,
That folly grew asham'd her sons to own;
But while he mimick'd Death's pretended rage,
The angry tyrant snatch'd him off the stage,
Surpris'd him in the height of all his art,
And fore'd the player to complete his part!
IN FONTES LUTETIÆ,
EPIGRAMMA SANTEUIL.
SEQUANA cum primum reginæ allabitur urbi
Tardat præcipites ambitiosus aquas;
2 Sannazario received from the senate of Venice for this epigram 6000 chequins, which are about 9s. 6d. sterl. each in value, and was made a knight of the order of St. Mark.
3 He died acting his Malade Imaginaire.
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