Old winter halting o'er the mead, Bids me and Mary mourn, But lovely spring peeps o'er his head, And whifpers your return. V. Then April with her fifter May, VI. And if a tear that speaks regret A glimpse of joy that we have met A Shall fhine, and dry the tear. TRAN S TRANSLATION OF PRIOR'S 1. MERCATOR, vigiles oculos ut fallere poffit, II. Ad fpeculum ornabat nitidos Euphelia crines, Cum dixit mea lux, heus, cane, fume lyram. Namque lyram juxtà pofitam cum carmine vidit, Suave quidem carmen dulcifonamque lyram, III. Fila lyræ vocemque paro, fufpiria furgunt, Et mifcent numeris murmura mæsta meis, Dumque tuæ memoro laudes, Euphelia, forma, VOL. I. A a Subrubet VI. Subrubet illa pudore, et contrahit altera frontem, Heu! fallendi artem quam didicere parum. WHEN the British warrior queen, Bleeding from the Roman rods, Sought with an indignant mien, Counsel of her country's gods, II. Sage beneath the spreading oak Full of rage and full of grief. Princefs! III. Princefs! if our aged eyes Weep upon thy matchlefs wrongs, 'Tis because refentment ties All the terrors of our tongues. IV. Rome fhall perish-write that word Perish hopeless and abhorr'd, Deep in ruin as in guilt. V. Rome for empire far renown'd Soon her pride fhall kifs the ground Hark! the Gaul is at her gates. Other Romans fhall arife, VI. Heedlefs of a foldier's name, Sounds, not arms, hall win the prize, Harmony the path to fame. From the forefts of our land, Arm'd with thunder, clad with wings, Shall a wider world command. VIII. Regions Cæfar never knew, Thy pofterity fhall fway, Where his eagles never flew, None invincible as they. IX. Such the bard's prophetic words, Pregnant with celestial fire, Bending as he swept the chords Of his sweet but awful lyre. X. She, with all a monarch's pride, Felt them in her bofom glow, Rufh'd to battle, fought and died, Dying, hurl'd them at the foe. Ruffians, |