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.
SPECIMEN OF A TRANSLATION OF THE
ILIAD IN BLANK VERSE.
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