POETRY.

HORACE, BOOK Ill., ODE 11.

BY SIR STEPHEN E. DE VERE.

I.

MERCURY, by whose magic song

Amphion drew the rocks along To wall his Thebes, thou too, sweet lute, Unheeded once, or mute, Now in rich halls, and temples high, Breathing thy seven-stringed minstrelsy, Sing the old strain all love to hear, And win the faithless Lyde's ear, Wayward as colt that o'er the plain Gambols, exults, and spurns the rein, Shrinks from the touch, and will not stay, But wild and wanton, bounds away.

Jr.

When Orpheus sang, tigers and listening woods Followed his footsteps : rushing floods Stood still entranced: Hell's giant hound Bowed those three heads by Furies crowned With hundred snakes : the venomed gore Dropped from his triple tongue no more : Ixion's self forgot his toil And on his pale lips sate a sad, reluctant smile.

The Danaids stood beside their empty urn And, soothed by music, ceased to mourn.

In.

Sing ye to Lyde ! Bid her know Their crime was treason, and its weed was woe !

Tell her that torments sure, though late, False faith and murdered trust await.

Impious ! no guilt more ford Could ever blast a, human soul.

Impious ! they dared to stain The bridal couch with blood of bridegrooms slain.

IV.

Amid the faithless many, one, Worthy the nuptial torch, betrayed Her traitor father—she alone Nobly untrue, a glorious maid, False to her pledge, but faithful to her lord, Through unborn ages honoured and adored.

Thus to her youthful spouse she cries : "My husband, sleep no more ! arise !

Lest, swift and silent, through the gloom From hands nnfeared a longer sleep may come.

Fly my fierce sire, my ruthless sisters ! They, Now, now, like lions, rend their lordly prey.

By hand of mine thou shalt not die, Nor bound in loathsome dungeon lie.

Me will my father load with chains, Me drive an exile to Nurnidia's plains, Stern parent to a weeping bride Who spared the bridegroom slumbering by her side.

Go where swift feet and favouring zephyrs bear, While night and Venus have thee in. their care ! Fly, blest by Heaven, and grave upon my tomb The grief, the joy, the triumph of my doom."