Part 29

2. [HADRIAN'S ADDRESS TO HIS SOUL.]

My soul, my pleasant soul, and witty, The guest and consort of my body. Into what place now all alone Naked and sad wilt thou be gone? No mirth, no wit, as heretofore, Nor jests wilt thou afford me more.

3. [PAULINUS. CARM. APP. I. 35-40.]

What is't to me that spacious rivers run Whole ages, and their streams are never done? Those still remain: but all my fathers died, And I myself but for few days abide.

4. [ANEURIN. ENGLYNION Y MISOEDD, III. 1-4.]

In March birds couple, a new birth Of herbs and flow'rs breaks through the earth; But in the grave none stirs his head, Long is the impris'ment of the dead.

5. [INCERTI.]

So our decays God comforts by The stars' concurrent state on high.

6. [JUVENAL. SATIRE XIII. 86-8.]

There are that do believe all things succeed By chance or fortune: and that nought's decreed By a divine, wise Will; but blindly call Old Time and Nature rulers over all.

7. [INCERTI.]

From the first hour the heavens were made Unto the last, when all shall fade, Count--if thou canst--the drops of dew, The stars of heav'n and streams that flow, The falling snow, the dropping show'rs, And in the month of May, the flow'rs, Their scents and colours, and what store Of grapes and apples Autumn bore, How many grains the Summer bears, What leaves the wind in Winter tears; Count all the creatures in the world, The motes which in the air are hurl'd, The hairs of beasts and mankind, and The shore's innumerable sand, The blades of grass, and to these last Add all the years which now are past, With those whose course is yet to come, And all their minutes in one sum. When all is done, the damned's state Outruns them still, and knows no date.

8. [VIRGIL. GEORGICS, IV. 12-138.]

I saw beneath Tarentum's stately towers An old Cilician spend his peaceful hours. Some few bad acres in a waste, wild field, Which neither grass, nor corn, nor vines would yield, He did possess. There--amongst thorns and weeds-- Cheap herbs and coleworts, with the common seeds Of chesboule or tame poppies, he did sow, And vervain with white lilies caused to grow. Content he was, as are successful kings, And late at night come home--for long work brings The night still home--with unbought messes laid On his low table he his hunger stay'd. Roses he gather'd in the youthful Spring, And apples in the Autumn home did bring: And when the sad, cold Winter burst with frost The stones, and the still streams in ice were lost, He would soft leaves of bear's-foot crop, and chide The slow west winds and ling'ring Summer-tide!

9. [VIRGIL. AENEID, III. 515.]

And rising at midnight the stars espied, All posting westward in a silent glide.

10. [VIRGIL. GEORGICS, II. 58.]

The trees we set grow slowly, and their shade Stays for our sons, while we--the planters--fade. From Man in Glory: translated from Anselm (1652).

1. [ANSELM.]

Here holy Anselm lives in ev'ry page, And sits archbishop still, to vex the age. Had he foreseen--and who knows but he did?-- This fatal wrack, which deep in time lay hid, 'Tis but just to believe, that little hand Which clouded him, but now benights our land, Had never--like Elias--driv'n him hence, A sad retirer for a slight offence. For were he now, like the returning year, Restor'd, to view these desolations here, He would do penance for his old complaint, And--weeping--say, that Rufus was a saint.

From the Epistle-Dedicatory to Flores Solitudinis (1654).

1. [BISSELLIUS.]

The whole wench--how complete soe'er--was but A specious bait; a soft, sly, tempting slut; A pleasing witch; a living death; a fair, Thriving disease; a fresh, infectious air; A precious plague; a fury sweetly drawn; Wild fire laid up and finely dress'd in lawn.

2. [AUGURELLIUS.]

Peter, when thou this pleasant world dost see, Believe, thou seest mere dreams and vanity, Not real things, but false, and through the air Each-where an empty, slipp'ry scene, though fair. The chirping birds, the fresh woods' shady boughs, The leaves' shrill whispers, when the west wind blows, The swift, fierce greyhounds coursing on the plains, The flying hare, distress'd 'twixt fear and pains, The bloomy maid decking with flow'rs her head, The gladsome, easy youth by light love led; And whatsoe'er here with admiring eyes Thou seem'st to see, 'tis but a frail disguise Worn by eternal things, a passive dress Put on by beings that are passiveless.

From a Discourse Of Temperance and Patience: translated from Nierembergius (1654).

1. [INCERTI.]

The naked man too gets the field, And often makes the armèd foe to yield.