The combat deepens. On, ye brave, And charge with all thy chivalry! Few, few shall part where many meet; Shall be a soldier's sepulchre. CAMPBELL. L'Usignuolo. Offesa verginella Piangendo il suo destino, Tutta dolente e bella, Fu cangiata da Giove in augellino, Che canta dolcemente, e spiega il volo, In verde colle udì con suo diletto Cantar un giorno Amor quell' augelletto, E del canto invaghito Con miracol gentil prese di Giove Ad emular le prove : Onde poi ch' ebbe udito Quel musico usignuol che sì soave Canta, gorgheggia, e stilla, Cangiollo in verginella; e questa è Lilla. Ite, ite (gliscunt praelia), qveis decus Qvot praeliantum pars qvota militum Qvisqve viri premet ossa caespes. W. F. Luscinia. Inmeritos flentem casus vertisse puellam K. The Nightingale. A maiden fair in days of eld She tuned her fullest, sweetest lay, A consort's heart to thrill. Love drank the liquid notes, and strove From that delicious hour To work, in rivalry of Jove, A deed of equal power. The bird, whose music rich and rare Entranced the listening wind, He changed into a maiden fair; And she is JENNY LIND. C. K. H. Auf den Selius. Du lebst nicht, wie du lehrst; dies årgert die Gemein' A. GRYPHIUS. Αηδών. Πότμον ὀδυρομένην χαλεπὸν περικαλλέα κούρην ὄρνιν ἐς ἡδυμελῆ Ζεὺς μετέθηκε πατήρ· ἡ δὲ κατ ̓ εὐκάρπους θάμνους, γλυκύφωνος Αηδών, εὐθὺς τεινομέναις ταῖς πτερύγεσσι τρέχει. τὴν δ ̓ ὀπὶ θέλγουσαν λιγυρῇ πόσιν ἔν ποτε βουνοῦ χλωροκόμοις βήσσαις αὐτὸς ἄκουεν Ἔρως· αἴολα δ ̓ ἐκθαμβῶν μέλεα ζηλήμονι θυμῷ ἤθελ ̓ ὑπερβαλέειν θαύματα τοῦ πατέρος. ἐκ δ ̓ ὄρνιθος ἔθηκε πάλιν περικαλλέα κούρην, Λίνδην, Πιερίδων τὴν μελίγηρυν ὄπα. S. H. B. Discordia Concors. Qvod male cum norma concordet vita Mathonis Plebs qveritur ; falso: salva hominis ratio est. Nempe docent omnes et norma et vita Mathonis, Altera, qvid faciant, altera, qvid fugiant. Κ. Marion. Will ye gae to the ewe-bughts, Marion, Oh, Marion's a bonnie lass, And the blythe blink's in her e'e; I've nine milch ewes, my Marion, OLD SCOTTISH SONG. The Indian Tree. They tell us of an Indian tree, Which, howsoe'er the sun and sky May tempt its boughs to wander free, And shoot and blossom wide and high, Yet better loves to bend its arms Downwards again to that dear earth, From which the life, that fills and warms Its grateful being, first had birth. E'en thus, though woo'd by flattering friends, And fed with fame (if fame it be), This heart, my own dear mother, bends With love's true instinct back to thee. |