Waking laughter in indolent reviewers.
Should I flounder awhile without a tumble
Thro' this metrification of Catullus,
They should speak to me not without a welcome,
All that chorus of indolent reviewers.
Hard, hard, hard is it, only not to tumble,
So fantastical is the dainty metre.
Wherefore slight me not wholly, nor believe mo
Too presumptuous, indolent reviewers.
O blatant Magazines, regard me rather
Since I blush to belaud myself a moment-
As some rare little rose, a piece of inmost
Horticultural art, or half coquette-like
Maiden, not to be greeted unbenignly.



So Hector said, and sea-like roar'd his host;
Then loosed their sweating horses from the yoke,
And each beside his chariot bound his own;
And oxen from the city, and goodly sheep
In haste they drove, and honey-hearted wine
And bread from out the houses brought, and heap'd
Their firewood, and the winds from off the plain
Rolld the rich vapor far into the heaven.
And these all night upon the* bridge of war
Sat glorying; many a fire before them blazed :
As when in heaven the stars about the moon
Look beaufifal, when all the winds are laid,
And every height comes out and jatting peak
And valley, and the measurable heavens
Break open to their highest; and all thé stars

[blocks in formation]

Shine, and the Shepherd gladdens in his heart:
So many a fire between the ships and stream
Of Xanthus blazed before the towers of Troy,
A thousand on the plain; and close by each
Sat fifty in the blaze of burning fire;
And champing golden grain, the horses stood
Hard by their chariots, waiting for the dawn.*

Iliad VIII. 542-561.


Or, more literally

And eating hoary grain and pulse the steeds
Stood by their cars, waiting the thronèd morn.


The Laureate has seen fit to ignore many of his earlier productions. The one entitled “ Hesperides ” is too genuine a poem to be left out of his works, and it is placed here by the publishers of this volume because it is thought worthy of the bard of “Locksley Hall ” and “ The Lady of Shalott.”

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