The Elegies of Sextus Propertius, tr. into Engl. verse, with life of the poet and illustr. notes by J. Cranstoun

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Strana 217 - Back comes the Chief in triumph. Who, in the hour of fight, Hath seen the Great Twin Brethren In harness on his right. Safe comes the ship to haven, Through billows and through gales, If once the Great Twin Brethren Sit shining on the sails.
Strana 235 - Achaei ? jam pridem Syrus in Tiberim defluxit Orontes, et linguam et mores et cum tibicine chordas obliquas nee non gentilia tympana secum vexit et ad circum jussas prostare puellas...
Strana i - LL.D., Author of a Translation of ' Catullus.' Crown 8vo, 6s. 6d. The Elegies of Sextus Propertius. Translated into English Verse, with Life of the Poet, and Illustrative Notes. Crown 8vo, 7s.
Strana 223 - Accepit vocem lacrimis Lavinia matris Flagrantis perfusa genas, cui plurimus ignem 65 Subjecit rubor, et calefacta per ora cucurrit. Indum sanguineo veluti violaverit ostro Si quis ebur, aut mixta rubent ubi lilia multa Alba rosa : talis virgo dabat ore colores.
Strana 247 - Ergo cum silices, cum dens patientis aratri Depereant aevo, carmina morte carent. Cedant carminibus reges regumque triumphi, Cedat et auriferi ripa benigna Tagi.
Strana 216 - Orphea detinuisse feras et concita dicunt flumina Threicia sustinuisse lyra; saxa Cithaeronis Thebas agitata per artem sponte sua in muri membra coisse ferunt...
Strana 62 - As when we cannot reach the head of statues all too high, We lay a chaplet at the feet, so now perforce do I, Unfit to climb the giddy heights of Epic song divine, In humble adoration lay poor incense on thy shrine ; For not -as yet my Muse hath known the wells of Ascra's grove : Permessus' gentle wave alone hath laved the limbs of Love.
Strana 3 - Why deck thyself with gems and costly dress ? Why mar with trinkets Nature's form divine, And not allow thy beauties forth to shine In all their own, their matchless loveliness ? To thee such aids can add no charms — ah, no ! True love will aye disdain the artist's care. See ! the fair fields a thousand colours wear, And ivy-sprays far best spontaneous grow. Fairer in lonely grots green arbutes rise, Fairer the streamlet wends its wandering way, Lovelier bright pebbles gem their native bay, Sweetlier...
Strana 41 - I'll fill a portly volume with the Coan garment's praise ; Or if her truant tresses wreathe her forehead with caresses, The tresses of her queenly brow demand her poet's lays. Or if, perchance, she strike the speaking lyre with ivory fingers, I marvel how those nimble fingers run the chords along ; Or if above her slumber-drooping eyes a shadow lingers, My tranced mind is sure to find a thousand themes of song. Or if for love's delightful strife repose awhile be broken, Oh, I could write an Iliad...

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