EPIGRAM. ПАОНМАТА МАӨНМАТА. CORRIPUI citharam-lauram dare Granta solebat Vatibus-at lauram non mihi Granta dedit. Ecce iterum!-fortasse lyram meliora manebunt Fata-iterum damnant tristia fata lyram. Tertia pugna subit-jacturaque tertia,-Musam Ter-victam ex acie tum revocare licet. Parce, miser, doceantque a0ýμara bina poetam Jam sapere !-Ah nunquam, crede, poeta sapit. TRANSLATION. GRANTA, with all a mother's eye, regards The first faint efforts of her embryo bards; And rears a throne, and twines a deathless bay, I wrote, and failed,-'twas but for scribbling sake; A freshman never wins-but by mistake. Again I seized my pen,-invoked amain Fortune's fair smile, but fortune frowned again. Once more.-Nay, sir, 'tis folly to keep on, When fate and reason warn you to have done; And, by your double failure of the prize, Might teach the veriest booby to be wise: Once more?-sheer madness, sir, I'd have you know it, Quite inconsistent.-Not, sir, with a poet. Cambridge, May, 1827. FANCY. Он, ask me not where fancy lies! A moment's fitful ray :- Just comes one bright, bright smile to bring, Just shakes one dew-drop from her wing, Just strikes one note from airy string, And then away, away. Oh, ask me not where fancy dwells! It is not in the deep green dells, It is not in the blue hare bells, That deck the sunny lea. Oh, ask me not where fancy strays! It is not on the winter's blaze, Where the sun's last and loveliest rays Melt in the sleeping sea. Oh, ask me not what fancy sings! They are not visionary things, The poet's vain imaginings, That breathe that long deep tone: Ah, no! for fancy's harp-strings clear Are wet with lingering memory's tear, Who weeps those touching notes to hear, She wakes for me alone. |