The Christian Scholar By the Author of "The Cathedral" [i.e. Isaac Williams] |
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| SIMONIDES. |
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| II. |
| III. |
| IV. |
| V. |
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 | The Christian Scholar |  |
177
SIMONIDES.
What rapture, could ye seize
Some Theban fragment, or unrol
One precious, tender-hearted scroll
Of pure Simonides!
Wordsworth.
Some Theban fragment, or unrol
One precious, tender-hearted scroll
Of pure Simonides!
Wordsworth.
I.
All the world is varied madness,
With a healthful cheerful sadness,
Better than light-hearted gladness,
With a sorrow that doth please
Cleanse the heart, Simonides!
With a healthful cheerful sadness,
Better than light-hearted gladness,
With a sorrow that doth please
Cleanse the heart, Simonides!
Better than the worldling's treasure,
And the lightly-flowing measure,
Or deceitfulness of pleasure,
There must be an undersound,
And a sadness more profound.
And the lightly-flowing measure,
Or deceitfulness of pleasure,
There must be an undersound,
And a sadness more profound.
Deeper the foundation lieth
Than the worldly heart that sigheth;
In a soul that inly crieth,
Hopeful from a deep despair,
Is the life that is a prayer.
Than the worldly heart that sigheth;
In a soul that inly crieth,
Hopeful from a deep despair,
Is the life that is a prayer.
178
II. ELEGIAC FRAGMENT.
“Nought hath on earth abiding stay,For mortal men like leaves decay;
So said the Chian bard of yore,
All hear, but few in heart will store.
For e'en from youth at each man's side,
Hope will with pleasing tale abide.
While lovely flowers of youth remain
Many designs man hath in vain;
Ne'er thinks he shall grow old and die;
Nor when in health he sick shall lie.
O fools, thus minded still are ye,
Nor know how short man's time must be?
Take this to heart, and to life's end
Of thine own soul be thou the friend.”
179
III. ON THE LIFE OF MAN.
“Deep-thundering Jove each end fulfils,Disposing all things as he wills;
'Tis not man's wisdom ought to sway,
He lives the being of a day,
God brings fulfilment as He may.
On beauties still feeds Hope divine,
And stirs the impossible design.
While some await a coming day,
Others a year that's far away.
No one but thinks to live a year,
Enjoying wealth and blessings dear.
Old-age unenvied thus on some
Steals, ere the final close is come.
On some Diseases bring their ends,
While others war to Hades sends.
Some on the Ocean tempest-tost
'Mid angry floods their lives have lost.
While others by self-slaughter fall,
And die a death most sad of all.
Thus ills unnumber'd men surround,
And woes on every side abound.
Thyself then fret not, nor complain,
Nor grieve as one in love with pain.”
180
IV. MUTABILITY.
“Say not what yet may happen, being man;
Nor what may be another's mortal span:
For rapid is the change which on us lies,
E'en as the insect spreads its wing and dies.”
Nor what may be another's mortal span:
For rapid is the change which on us lies,
E'en as the insect spreads its wing and dies.”
ANOTHER TRANSLATION OF THE SAME.
“Say not, mortal, what shall be,Nor of one whom thou may'st see
When his lot to die:
For the change of human things
Is more swift than glancing wings
Of the summer fly.”
181
V. DANAE AND HER CHILD.
“Loud o'er the chest the night-winds roar'd,
The waves around tempestuous pour'd,
A mother's heart then quail'd with fear,
And on her cheek there was a tear;
O'er little Perseus, as he slept,
She laid her loving arm, and wept;—
‘What do I suffer, O my child,
While thou upon a night so wild,
With baby heart thus breathing deep,
Art in thy joyless house asleep,—
This brass-bound chest, 'mid Ocean gloom
Which nothing but the stars illume.
The waves around tempestuous pour'd,
A mother's heart then quail'd with fear,
And on her cheek there was a tear;
O'er little Perseus, as he slept,
She laid her loving arm, and wept;—
‘What do I suffer, O my child,
While thou upon a night so wild,
With baby heart thus breathing deep,
Art in thy joyless house asleep,—
This brass-bound chest, 'mid Ocean gloom
Which nothing but the stars illume.
Thou markest not the wave that rocks
Above thy deep and flowing locks,
Nor wind's harsh voice; so calm doth glow,
In purple wrapt, thy beauteous brow.
If thou with me couldst feel and fear,
Then wouldst thou lend thy little ear.
Sleep on, my infant, smiling fair,
Sleep Ocean, and sleep thou, my care!
Above thy deep and flowing locks,
Nor wind's harsh voice; so calm doth glow,
In purple wrapt, thy beauteous brow.
If thou with me couldst feel and fear,
Then wouldst thou lend thy little ear.
Sleep on, my infant, smiling fair,
Sleep Ocean, and sleep thou, my care!
O Father Jove, there yet may be
From thee some change for mine and me,
But if a word too bold I speak,
Forgive, I pray, for my child's sake.’”
From thee some change for mine and me,
But if a word too bold I speak,
Forgive, I pray, for my child's sake.’”
| The Christian Scholar | |