Lyd.

Hor.

Lyd.

And I am mutually on fire

With gentle Calais, Thurine Ornith's son,
For whom I doubly would expire,
So fate would let the boy a long thread run.

But say old love return should make,
And us disjoin'd force to her brazen yoke;
That I bright Chloe off should shake,
And to left Lydia, now the gate stood ope?

Though he be fairer than a star; Thou lighter than the bark of any tree,

And than rough Adria angrier far; Yet would I wish to love, live, die with thee.

FRAGMENTUM PETRON. ARBITR.

Foeda est in coitu, et brevis voluptas,
Et tadet Veneris statim peracta.
Non ergo ut pecudes libidinosa,
Caci protinus irruamus illuc :
Nam languescit amor peritque flamma,
Sed sic, sic, sine fine feriati,
Et tecum jaceamus osculantes :

Hic nullus labor est, ruborque nullus ;
Hoc juvit, juvat, et diu juvabit:

Hoc non deficit, incipitque semper.

EPIGRAMMA MARTIALIS, Lib. viii. ep. 77.

Liber, amicorum dulcissima cura tuorum,
Liber in aterna vivere digne rosa;
Si sapis, Assyrio semper tibi crinis amomo
Splendeat, et cingant florea serta caput:
Candida nigrescant vetulo crystalla Falerno,
Et caleat blando mollis amore thorus-
Qui sic, vel medio finitus vixit in avo,
Longior huic facta est, quam data vita fuit.

FRAGMENT OF PETRON, ARBITER TRANSLATED.

Doing, a filthy pleasure is, and short;

And done, we straight repent us of the sport:
Let us not then rush blindly on unto it,
Like lustful beasts that only know to do it:
For lust will languish, and that heat decay.
But thus, thus, keeping endless holiday,
Let us together closely lie and kiss,
There is no labour, nor no shame in this;
This hath pleas'd, doth please, and long will
please; never

Can this decay, but is beginning ever.

EPIGRAM OF MARTIAL, viii. 77. TRANSLATED.

Liber, of all thy friends, thou sweetest care,'
Thou worthy in eternal flower to fare,
If thou be'st wise, with Syrian oil let shine
Thy locks, and rosy garlands crown thy head;
Dark thy clear glass with old Falernian wine,

And heat with softest love thy softer bed.
He, that but living half his days, dies such,
Makes his life longer than 'twas given him, much.

Liber, of all thy friends, &c.] This must be exempted from what in the Life of Dryden, are called the "jaw-breaking translations of Ben Jonson." It is, in fact, the most beautiful of all the versions of this elegant poem. Though it numbers only line for line with the original, it clearly and fully expresses the whole of its meaning, and is besides, spirited and graceful in a high degree. It unfortunately escaped the researches of Hurd.

SYLVA.

Rerum, et sententiarum, quasi"Yλn dicta a multiplici materia, et varietate, in iis contentâ. Quemadmodùm enim vulgò solemus infinitam arborum nascentium indiscriminatim multitudinem Sylvam dicere: ità etiam libros suos in quibus varia et diversæ materia opuscula temere congesta erant, Sylvas appellabant antiqui, Timber-trees.

TIMBER:

OR

DISCOVERIES

MADE UPON

MEN AND MATTER.

AS THEY HAVE FLOWED

OUT OF HIS DAILY READINGS;

OR HAD THEIR REFLUX

TO HIS PECULIAR NOTION OF THE TIMES:

Tecum habila, ut nôris quam sit tibi curta supellex.

PERS. Sat. 4.