Page:Dublin University Review vol 1 pt 1.pdf/41

, 1885.]

has a hope for heaven,

But soulless a faery dies,

As a leaf that is old, and withered and cold

When the wint'ry vapours rise.

Soon shall our wings be stilled,

And our laughter over and done,

So let us dance, where the yellow lance

Of the barley shoots in the sun.

So let us dance on the fringed waves,

And shout at the wisest owls

In their downy caps, and startle the naps

Of the dreaming water-fowls.

And fight for the black sloe-berries,

For soulless a faery dies,

As a leaf that is old, and withered and cold

When the wintry vapours rise.

do you weave so soft and bright?

The cloak I weave of sorrow;

O lovely to see in all men's sight

Shall be the cloak of sorrow—

In all men's sight.

What do you build with sails for flight?

A boat I build for sorrow;

O swift on the seas all day and night

Saileth the rover sorrow—

All day and night.

What do you weave with wool so white?

The sandals these of sorrow;

Soundless shall be the footfall light

In each man's ears of sorrow—

Sudden and light.

man ambition is the commonest thing;

Each one by nature loves to be a king.

Ambitio nimis est volgatum; nil moror illam.

Quisque sibi partes sumere regis amat. J. B. B.

Oed. Col. 668-680, First Strophe. thou hast reach'd a rest,

A land whose steeds win wide renown,

Where white Kolonos' dwellings crown

The chalky steep; of lands most blest.

There nightingales' clear notes upswell

More than in all the world beside,

Through shady-verdured glens which hide

The dark-tress'd ivy where they dwell.

They love to haunt the sacred glade

Where branching trees so thick outspread

Their vaulted leafage overhead;

No sunbeam e'er can pierce the shade,

Nor enter blasts of any storm.

The mirthful god there roameth aye,

Bakchos, attending day by day

The nymphs that nursed his infant form. M. R.

Cato. Let not a torrent of impetuous zeal

Transport thee thus beyond the bounds of reason;

True fortitude is seen in great exploits,

That justice warrants, and that wisdom guides;

All else is tow'ring frenzy and distraction.

Lucius, we next would know what's your opinion.

Luc. My thoughts, I must confess, are turn'd on peace.

Already have we shown our love to Rome,

Now let us show submission to the gods.

We took up arms, not to revenge ourselves,

But free the commonwealth; when this end fails,

Arms have no further use. Our country's cause,

That drew our swords, now wrests them from our hands,

And bids us not delight in Roman blood

Unprofitably shed. What men could do

Is done already: heav'n and earth will witness,

If Rome must fall, that we are innocent.

T.