sadness. This relief may be derived from the works of Marlow himself, who seems, after all, to have had a considerable leaning to voluptuous reposing fancies, and to have dallied with love, like an accomplished amorist.-The beautiful tradition of the "broad Hellespont" is of undoubted antiquity, though unfortunately no fragment has reached us of the parent stock. Virgil alludes to it in a manner sufficient to show its notoriety in his day.

“ Quid juvenis, magnum cui versat in ossibus ignem Durus amor?—Nempe abruptis turbata procellis Nocte natat cæcâ serus freta: quem super ingens Porta tonat cœli, et scopulis illisa reclamant Equora: nec miseri possunt revocare parentes, Nec moritura super crudeli funere virgo."

Georg. Lib. iii. 258.

The two Heroides of Naso are familiar to every school-boy; in Lucan, l. 9, 954, Cæsar beholds the

* So Burmann-Oudendorp has natatum, which perhaps is best.

and lastly, in the fifth century, Musæus the grammarian, the contemporary of Nonnus and Coluthus, produced his brilliant poem.

It will not, perhaps, be displeasing to the poetical reader, to be able to compare at his breakfast table, without the trouble of reference to other volumes, the different methods of handling the same story. For this purpose selections are given from Mr. Elton's* elegant version of Musæus, so arranged as to form a continuous narrative. Mr. Elton says truly of the Erotopoegnion," that it is a beautiful and impassioned production, combining in its love-details the warmth and luxuriance of Ovid, with the delicate

*The amiable author of that beautiful monody "The Brothers," and the excellent translator of Hesiod, and specimens of the Classic Poets, 3 vols. 8vo. 1814. Where all is good, it is difficult to make any preference, yet with due diffidence I may venture to point out for admiration his translated extracts from Onomacritus, Pindar, Nonnus, and Apollonius. The visit of Hermes to Calypso (Odyss. 5. v. 43.) and part of the hymn to Apollò, beginning “ Λητω δ ̓ ἐννῆμάρ τε και ἐννέα νύκλας, &c. are both rendered with equal fidelity and poetry; and Horace's ode, "Quis multâ gracilis," is sweetly touched.

and graceful nature of Apollonius; and in the peril and tumult of the catastrophe, rising to the gloomy grandeur of Homeric description.

The torch that witness'd stealthy loves, and him
Who dared, with ocean-wandering nuptials, swim
The midnight surge; embraces veil'd in shade,
That ne'er the morn's immortal eyes survey'd ;
Abydos; Sestos; where sweet Hero lay,
A bride, unconscious of the blush of day;
Oh goddess tell!—

The graceful virgin, of a noble strain,
As priestess minister'd in Venus' fane :

But mix'd not with the blithe-assembling fair,
Nor midst the youthful dancers skimm’d in air:
She shunn'd the curious glance of female eyes,
And women's beauty-kindled jealousies.—
Now the throng'd festival of Venus came,
By Sestians held to fair Adonis' fame :
From farthest isles, encircled by the main,
Flock'd to the gaudy day a countless train
From Cyprus' wave-wash'd rocks, and green Hæ•
monia's plain.

No woman in Cythera's cities staid,

Nor one on hills of Libanus delay'd,

Where dancers twine midst cedar-fragrant glades;

Fair Phrygians haste, and near Abydos' maids.
No maid-enamour'd youths are then away,

Who still the rumour'd festival obey.

They bring no incense to the immortal shrine,
But seek the maids who there assembled shine.
Now Hero walk'd the fane with virgin grace;
A shining beauty lightening from her face,
As white the moon emerges to the view
With her clear visage of transparent hue,—
Such Hero's cheek; but on those cheeks of snow,
Were two vermilion circles seen to glow:
And he, that look'd on Hero's limbs, had said,
That meads of roses there their colours spread.
Soft blush'd her tinted limbs; her ancles glow'd
With roses, as the robe's white drapery flow'd
Light-wafted with her step; soft graces skim
Round all her form, and float from every limb:
Three Graces live in legendary lies:

A thousand spring from Hero's laughing eyes.
As o'er the temple's marble floor she moved,
Men's eyes, hearts, souls, with all her motions roved.
Thou too, Leander! martyr of desire,

Didst view the noble maid with glance of fire;
But loth, in secret, passion's stings to prove,
And yield the mind a prey to wasting love;
Loth, while with flamy-breathing dart subdued,
To drag a life of sighing solitude

Without the beauteous maid. The torch of flame
Fierce on the heart from mingling eyebeams came :
His heart quick trembled,-

Shameless from love, some few soft steps he took,
Confronting stood, and fix'd the virgin's look ;

Turning his sidelong eyes, with luring wile,
By silent hints the damsel to beguile.

She, when his art she mark'd, in conscious grace
Smil❜d to herself, and oft she veil'd her face;
Yet, stealthily, with secret beck, the maid
Twinkling her eyelids, every sign repaid:
With rapture flush'd, the gazing youth believed
His signal answer'd, and his suit received;
And long'd for hidden hours. In western bay
Now glimmering sank the light-contracted day:
Full opposite on evening's shadowy verge,
Bright Hesper's star appear'd above the surge.
When, as he saw the blackness-gathering shade,
Embolden'd, touch'd he close the lonely maid:
Her rose-tipp'd fingers in soft silence press'd,
And drew a sigh long-breathing from his breast.
She silently, while veil'd in gloom they stand,
Draws as in anger back her roseate hand;
But when Leander felt the maid he loved
With sudden starts and wavering gestures moved,
He boldly twitch'd her robe of various hue,
And towards the sanctuary compulsive drew.
With tardy feet, as loth, the virgin went,
And female words were ready to resent:
"What madness moves thee, stranger? wretch! forbear
To drag a virgin, nor my vesture tear :
Begone, and dread my wealthy parents' ire;

For Venus' priestess ill beseems desire;
And hard the passage to a virgin's bed :"

So threaten'd she; what virgins say she said,