TRANSLATIONS. [THE following are a few only of Campbell's Translations from the Greek; they were writon at the age of sixteen, during his collegiate career, and their beauty and elegance went far to win for him the notice and friendship of the Professors.] MARTIAL ELEGY. FROM THE GREEK OF TYRTÆUS. How glorious fall the valiant, sword in hand, But oh! what ills await the wretch that yields, Stain of his breed! dishonouring manhood's form, All ills shall cleave to him :-Affliction's storm Shall blind him wandering in the vale of years, Till, lost to all but ignominious fears, He shall not blush to leave a recreant's name, But we will combat for our fathers' land, And we will drain the life-blood where we stand, To save our children :-fight ye side by side, And serried close, ye men of youthful pride, Disdaining fear, and deeming light the cost Of life itself in glorious battle lost. Leave not our sires to stem the unequal fight, Whose limbs are nerved no more with buoyant might; Nor, lagging backward, let the younger breast But youth's fair form, though fallen, is ever fair, And beautiful in death the boy appears, The hero boy, that dies in blooming years: In man's regret he lives, and woman's tears, More sacred than in life, and lovelier far, For having perish'd in the front of war. SONG OF HYBRIAS THE CRETAN. My wealth's a burly spear and brand, With these I plough, I reap, I sow, With these I make the sweet vintage flow, But your wights that take no pride to wield Oh, I bring those heartless, hapless drones, FRAGMENT. FROM THE GREEK OF ALCMAN. THE mountain summits sleep: glens, cliffs, and caves Are silent-all the black earth's reptile broodThe bees-the wild beasts of the mountain wood: In depths beneath the dark red ocean's waves Its monsters rest, whilst wrapt in bower and spray [the day. Each bird is hush'd that stretch'd its pinions to SPECIMENS OF TRANSLATIONS FROM MEDEA. Σκαιοὺς δὲ λέγων, κουδέν τι σοφοὺς Τοὺς πρόσθε βροτοὺς οὐκ ἂν ἅμαρτοις. Medea, v. 194, p. 33, Glasg. edit. TELL me, ye bards, whose skill sublime When flush'd with joy, the rosy throng SPEECH OF THE CHORUS, IN THE SAME TRAGEDY, TO DISSUADE MEDEA FROM HER PURPOSE OF PUTTING HER CHILDREN TO DEATH, AND FLYING FOR PROTECTION TO ATHENS. O HAGGARD queen! to Athens dost thou guide Thy glowing chariot, steep'd in kindred gore; Or seek to hide thy foul infanticide Where Peace and Mercy dwell for evermore? The land where Truth, pure, precious, and sublime, Woos the deep silence of sequester'd bowers, And warriors, matchless since the first of time, Rear their bright banners o'er unconquer'd towers! Where joyous youth, to Music's mellow strain, Twines in the dance with nymphs for ever fair, While Spring eternal on the lilied plain, Waves amber radiance through the fields of air! The tuneful Nine (so sacred legends tell) [among First waked their heavenly lyre these scenes Still in your greenwood bowers they love to dwell; Still in your vales they swell the choral song! But there the tuneful, chaste, Pierian fair, The guardian nymphs of green Parnassus, now Sprung from Harmonia, while her graceful hair Waved in high auburn o'er her polish'd brow! |