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TO A PREEMINENT MAN, THOMAS POW

ELL ON HIS TREATISE CONCERNING THE ELEMENTS OF OPTICS :- A TRANSLATION, BY THE SAME.

UR eyes bright living fires and light

divine, The Almighty doth in narrow orbs con

fine : He gave the exploring rays, and each veil'd cell, In which the law and means of vision dwell : Each silent gleam and every glancing ray Learn'd Powell, in small book, thou dost display : Their wanderings, Lynceus-like, and seats dost

give, Both when they tell us truth, and when deceive. O hand of Nature emulous! O mind Versed in the mighty laws that rule mankind ! Nature gave eyes 'tis true, but here by thee The eyes she giren hath are taught to see.

| For notice of Dr. Powell, see our Essay prefixed to the present Volume. G

AD ECHUM.
QUÆ frondosæ per amana cubilia sylvæ
Nympha volas, lucoque loquax spatiaris

in alto,
Annosi numen nemoris, saltusque verendi
Effatum, cui sola placent postrema relatu!
Te
per

Narcissi morientis verba, precesque Per pueri lassatam animam, et conamina vitæ Ultima, palantisque precor suspiria lingua. Da quo secretæ hæc incædua devia sylve, Anfractusque loci dubios, et lustra repandam. Sic tibi perpetua-meritoque-hæec regna juventa Luxurient, debiturque tuis, sine fine, viretis Intactas lunæ lachrymas, et lambere rorem Virgineum, cælique animas haurire tepentis. Nec cedant ævo stellis, sed lucida semper Et satiata sacro æterni medicamine veris Ostendant longe vegetos, ut sydera, vultus ! Sic spiret muscata comas, et cynnama passim ! Diffundat levis umbra, in funere qualia spargit Phænicis rogus aut Pancheæ nubila flammæ !

TO ECHO: A TRANSLATION, BY THE

SAME.

VOICEFUL nymph! thro' many a nook

of rest
In the deep greenwood's shade who wan-

derest :
Sweet goddess of the venerable grore !
Oracle of the cliffs ! who still dost love
No word of what is spoken save the last :
By the dim breath and dying words that passid
From faint Narcissus' failing lips, by all
His sighs of ebbing life, on thee I call,
That thro' this tangled forest where I stray,
My labyrinth-taken feet may find their way.
So may thy realms in youth perpetual

- Not undeserved—be ever virginal;
O’er thy green brakes the chaste moon ever strew
Sweet influence, and heaven drop her balmiest dew;
Nor fail the stars with lustrous warmth to pour
The spell of vernal gladness evermore :
So from the leafy crowns thy brows that wreathe,
Rich musk and cinnamon perennial breathe
In clouds of delicate perfume that arise,
As from the phenix pyre or 'neath Panchean' skies.

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AD POSTEROS.'

IMINUAT ne sera dies præsentis honorem

Quis, qualisque fui, percipe Posteritas. Cambria me genuit, patulis ubi vallibus

errans

Subjacet aeriis montibus Isca pater. Inde sinu placido suscepit maximus arte

Herbertus, Latiæ gloria prima scholæ Bis ternos, illo me conducente, per annos

Profeci, et geminam contulit unus opem,
Ars et amor, mens atque manus certare solebant,

Nec lassata illi mensve, manusve fuit.
Hinc qualem cernis crevisse : sed ut mea certus

Tempora cognoscas, dura fuera, scias.
Vixi, divisos cum fregerat hæresis Anglos

Inter Tysiphonas presbyteri et populi.
His primum miseris per amæna furentibus arva

Prostravit sanctam vilis avena rosam,
Turbarunt fontes, et fusis pax perit undis,

Moestaque cælestes obruit umbra dies.
Duret ut integritas tamen, et pia gloria, partem

Me nullam in tanta strage fuisse, scias;

As explained in the Note prefixed to Olor Iscanus', this poem “Ad Posteros” in the criginal edition faces the engraved title page, but it has been thought expedient to place it with the others hero. G

Credidimus nempe insonti vocem esse cruori,

Et vires quæ post funera flere docent. Hinc castæ, fidæque pati me more parentis

Commonui, et lachrymis fata levare meis Hinc unsquam horrendis violavi sacra procelli

Nec mihi mens unquam, nec manus atra Si pius es, ne plura petas; satur ille recedat

Qui sapit et nos non scripsimus insipidis.?

TO POSTERITY: A TRANSLATION BY THE

EDITOR.

EST that the after-tim should e'er

The honour of these days impair,

Posterity ! I thee confide
From whence I came, and whom beside.
Wales gave me birth, where Father Usk
Winds now in light and now in dusk,
Oe'r-hung by the great mountains old,
That fling their shadows manifold
Far cross the valleys: and the sky
Seems pillar'd by their majesty.
Thence plac'd in gentle Herbert's care,

In learning ripe, a master rare –
Six years I gather'd classic lore,

I
And by his skill rich spoils I bore :

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