Though now dark envy rob me, double wages
Await me when I'm wasting in the tomb :
Time magnifies the things of bygone ages;
And o'er the grave far fairer honours bloom.

Witness the weary siege the fir-horse ended-
Achilles wrestling with Scamander's flood-
[Idaean Simois where young Jove was tended]-

The plains the wheels thrice stained with Hector's blood

Deiphobus, Polydamas, Troy's prophet,

Paris, nigh nameless in his native soil— Ilium-we else had heard but little of it,

And Troy, twice o'er the Oetaean hero's spoil.

Great Homer, too, who sang her rueful story,
Hath grown in honour in the mouths of men ;
And Rome in times unborn shall laud my glory :
When I am dust: yea, I shall triumph then.

Apollo smiles; the ages will not spurn me,
Or merely rear a slab my bones above:
Now to my olden theme once more I'll turn me,

And thrill my charmer with the lays of love.

II.

THE IMMORTALITY OF GENIUS.

Orphea delenisse feras et concita dicunt..

ORPHEUS 'tis said-the Thracian lyre-strings sweeping,
Stayed the swift stream and soothed the savage brute;
Cithaeron's rocks, to Thebes spontaneous leaping,
Rose into walls before Amphion's lute.

With dripping steeds did Galatea follow,

'Neath Aetna's crags, lone Polyphemus' song: Is't strange the loved of Bacchus and Apollo Leads captive with his lay the maiden throng?

Though no Taenarian blocks uphold my dwelling,
Nor ivory panels shine 'tween gilded beams;
No orchards mine Phaeacia's woods excelling,
No chiselled grots where Marcian water streams,—

Yet Song is mine; my strain the heart engages;
Faint from the dance sinks the lithe Muse with me,-
O happy maid! whose name adorns my pages,
Each lay a lasting monument to thee!

The pyramids that cleave heaven's jewelled portal ;
Elean Jove's star-spangled dome; the tomb
Where rich Mausolus sleeps,-are not immortal,
Nor shall escape inevitable doom.

Devouring fire and rains will mar their splendour-
The weight of years will drag the marble down :
Genius alone a name can deathless render,
And round the forehead wreathe the unfading crown.

III.

THE VISION.

Visus eram molli recubans Heliconis in umbra.

METHOUGHT, in Helicon's soft shade reclining,
Where the clear fount of Hippocrenë springs,-
Thy kings, O Alba! and their deeds enshrining-
A lofty task,-I smote the tuneful strings;

I'd moved my lips anear those wondrous waters,
Whence father Ennius, thirsting, drank of yore,
Then sang the Curian and Horatian slaughters,
And regal spoils Aemilius' vessel bore—

Fabius' delay that proved the foe's undoing,

Cannae's fell field, heaven turned by holy vows,

The Lares Hannibal from Rome pursuing,

And Jove by goose-note saved-when through the boughs

Of the Castalian laurel Phoebus peering,

Leaning near a grot upon his golden lyre,

Addressed me: "Fool! wouldst quaff this stream unfearing? Who bade thee wake the strings to epic fire?

"Propertius, hence no dreams of glory harbour;
Thy tiny wheels must press the velvet mead,
If maid must bear thy leaflets to her arbour,
And these, lone waiting for her lover, read.

"Why cross thy limit-line, to danger callous? Weigh not the pinnace of thy genius down :

One oar should smite the wave-one graze the shallows : Then safe thy course; mid-sea vast billows frown."

With ivory quill he showed me on the hill-side,

Approached by path new-made in mossy ground, A green grot decked with pebbles from the rill-side: Hung timbrels from the pumice-rocks around.

There, clay-wrought, stood the Nine and sire Silenus;
Thy reeds, O Pan of the Tegaean hills!
There, too, thy doves, my pets, almighty Venus!
Dipped in the Gorgon lake their purple bills.

O'er her peculiar work each maiden lingers,

And deftly plies the task that best she knows ; One wreathes the thyrsus, one with nimble fingers Attunes the strings, another twines the rose.

Spake one of these in tones of mild dominion-
Calliope, methinks, from all her charms :

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'Safely thou'lt soar on swan of snow-white pinion, But ne'er on charger rush to clang of arms.

"Sound not the hoarse-breath'd horn, for battle sighing,
Nor fence with warring hosts the Aonian bower;
Nor sing the Camp where Marius' flag is flying,
And Rome is crushing out the Teuton's power;

PROPERTIUS.

"Or how far Rhine, with Suevan blood red-reeking,
Bears gory corses on his rueful stream :
Thou'lt sing the serenader's wreath bespeaking
The midnight rout, and the gay reveller's dream-

"Thou'lt teach the youth to open Beauty's portal

By song by song the churlish lord beguile." She ceased, and with the waters, whence immortal Philetas quaffed, laved all my lips the while.

IV.

PICTURE OF CAESAR'S TRIUMPH.

Arma Deus Caesar dites meditatur ad Indos.

To Ind's rich land our arms great Caesar bearing Designs with ships to plough the pearl-gemmed deep; Vast prize! far lands new triumphs are preparing— Euphrates-Tigris 'neath his sway shall sweep.

Though late the Parthian shall obey the Roman ;
To Latin Jove be Parthian spoils decreed;
Up! rig our war-tried fleet, and for the yeoman
Lead forth-his wonted gift-the gallant steed.

Heaven smiles: the Crassi's fall avenge, and gather
For Rome fresh garlands of immortal bay;

O fateful fires of Vesta! Mars our father!
Grant, ere I die, may dawn the glorious day