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198 him among ancient poets, and to some extent a consequence of the nature of his subjects, but still certain, more or less, to repel a modern reader. Yet the author of 'The Christian Year'—no mean judge, surely, on such a point—in devoting no less than three of his Oxford "Prælectiones" to prove that Pindar's is in the highest sense a genuine poetic nature, dwells with emphasis on the poet's sympathy with human life in its successive phases, his sense of the charm of infancy, the grace of youth, the vigour of manhood, the serenity of age. Nor certainly is Pindar blind to the more pathetic aspects of humanity—its transitoriness, its sorrows, its ignorance, its moral frailty—and he is ever eager to discover a reflection which may console the sufferer.

What are we, great or lowly? Creatures of a day!

Man's but a phantom dream. Yet in the gracious ray

Poured from on high, his life puts joy and glory on."

Hiero, thou know'st—for known to thee is all tradition's lore—

How, for each blessing gods bestow, they add a double share of woe:

Fools may not brook its weight, but wise men find

The threatening cloud is silver-lined."

What is gone

(Came it of right, or maugre right) is none,

No! not Time's self that brought it, can reverse!

Yet all may be forgot in happier hours;

For blessings new destroy the primal curse."