Poems original and translated By John Herman Merivale ... A new and corrected edition with some additional pieces |
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WISDOM OF SOLOMON, CHAP. II. |
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 | Poems original and translated |  |
WISDOM OF SOLOMON, CHAP. II.
Thus said the heathen, in their reasonings vain;
“Man's life is short, or but prolonged in pain:
In death no remedy, no comfort, lies,
And from the grave we may not look to rise.
Born to all chance, on all adventures driven,
The sport of fortune or capricious heaven,
We pass away, and are no longer seen,
And leave no record that we once have been.
Our breath is smoke, our heart's warm pulse a spark,
Soon kindled, soon extinct, then all is dark;
Consumed to ashes our poor house of clay,
Our spirit vanish'd like soft air away;
Our name erased from Time's unfaithful page;
Our works unnoticed by the rising age.
We die, alas! and leave no trace behind,
Like empty vapour driven before the wind,
Or mists that, gathering thick at close of night,
Are scatter'd by the day's increasing light.
And, when this vision is dissolved at last,
This airy, trifling, fleeting shadow past,
A seal is put upon the funeral urn,
And Fate itself prohibits our return.
“Man's life is short, or but prolonged in pain:
In death no remedy, no comfort, lies,
And from the grave we may not look to rise.
Born to all chance, on all adventures driven,
The sport of fortune or capricious heaven,
We pass away, and are no longer seen,
And leave no record that we once have been.
Our breath is smoke, our heart's warm pulse a spark,
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Consumed to ashes our poor house of clay,
Our spirit vanish'd like soft air away;
Our name erased from Time's unfaithful page;
Our works unnoticed by the rising age.
We die, alas! and leave no trace behind,
Like empty vapour driven before the wind,
Or mists that, gathering thick at close of night,
Are scatter'd by the day's increasing light.
And, when this vision is dissolved at last,
This airy, trifling, fleeting shadow past,
A seal is put upon the funeral urn,
And Fate itself prohibits our return.
“Come, then, enjoy the hours that yet are thine,
Give thy full soul to perfumes, baths, and wine;
Let youth enhance the moments as they fly,
And let no flower of painted spring go by!
With early rose-buds let us crown our head,
Ere yet their full-blown leaves be torn and shed!
No pleasure pass untried, nor dear delight—
The festive day, the soft voluptuous night;
Leave through the world the tokens of your bliss,
This is our portion, and our lot is this.
Give thy full soul to perfumes, baths, and wine;
Let youth enhance the moments as they fly,
And let no flower of painted spring go by!
With early rose-buds let us crown our head,
Ere yet their full-blown leaves be torn and shed!
No pleasure pass untried, nor dear delight—
The festive day, the soft voluptuous night;
Leave through the world the tokens of your bliss,
This is our portion, and our lot is this.
“Let us the poor and righteous man oppress,
Nor spare the widow nor the fatherless,
Nor hold in reverence grey antiquity—
But let our strength the law of justice be.
That which is weak is ever worthless found—
Let then our toils the righteous man surround;
For that he thwarts our arts, and doth prevent
By stern reproof our lawless will's intent;
And boasts himself of knowledge all divine,
And claims descent from God's peculiar line.
Nay—e'en his face it irks us to behold;
For not like other men's his days are told:
His ways are of a different fashion,—He
Proclaims the end of the just man bless'd to be.
But let us see if so his words be sooth:
For, say the just man be God's child in truth,
Then surely God will help, and set him free
From powerless hands of human enemy.”
Nor spare the widow nor the fatherless,
Nor hold in reverence grey antiquity—
But let our strength the law of justice be.
That which is weak is ever worthless found—
Let then our toils the righteous man surround;
For that he thwarts our arts, and doth prevent
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And boasts himself of knowledge all divine,
And claims descent from God's peculiar line.
Nay—e'en his face it irks us to behold;
For not like other men's his days are told:
His ways are of a different fashion,—He
Proclaims the end of the just man bless'd to be.
But let us see if so his words be sooth:
For, say the just man be God's child in truth,
Then surely God will help, and set him free
From powerless hands of human enemy.”
Such thoughts they did conceive, by sin made blind.
God's hidden mysteries were not in their mind;
The meed of goodness 'twas not theirs to earn,
Nor the reward of blameless souls discern.
For God made man immortal—form'd to be
The image of His own Eternity.
God's hidden mysteries were not in their mind;
The meed of goodness 'twas not theirs to earn,
Nor the reward of blameless souls discern.
For God made man immortal—form'd to be
The image of His own Eternity.
| Poems original and translated | |