Di due vaghe donzelle, oneste, accorte A le fumanti tede d' Imeneo : Corro a quel marmo in cui la figlia or posa, TRANSLATION FROM VITTORELLI. ON A NUN. Sonnet composed in the name of a father, whose daughter had recently died shortly after her marriage; and addressed to the father of ber who had lately taken the veil. Or two fair virgins, modest though admired, Heaven made us happy, and now, wretched sires; And gazing upon either, both required. Becomes extinguish'd, soon-too soon expires: But thou at least from out the jealous door, Which shuts between your never-meeting eyes, Rush, the swoln flood of bitterness I pour, Not on the sea, not on the sea, Thy bark hath long been gone: Full swiftly blew the swift Siroc When last I press'd thy lip; Now thou art safe; nay, long ere now And since I now remember thee, Which mirth and music sped; Do thou amidst the fair white walls, At times from out her latticed halls Then think upon Calypso's isles, And when the admiring circle mark A half-form'd tear, a transient spark Again thou 'It smile, and blushing shun Some coxcomb's raillery; Nor own for once thou thought'st of one, My spirit flies o'er mount and main, TO ***. On Lady! when I left the shore, I hardly thought to grieve once more, Yet here, amidst this barren isle, I view my parting hour with dread. Divided by the dark-blue main, A few brief rolling seasons o'er, Perchance I view her cliffs again. But wheresoe'er I now may roam, Through scorching clime and varied sea, Though time restore me to my home, I ne'er shall bend mine eyes on thee. On thee, in whom at once conspire All charms which heedless hearts can move, Whom but to see is to admire, And oh! forgive the word-to love. Forgive the word in one who ne'er With such a word can more offend; And since thy heart I cannot share, Believe me, what I am, thy friend. And who so cold as look on thee, Thou lovely wanderer, and be less? The friend of Beauty in distress! The Turkish tyrants now enclose; As spot of thy nativity. And though I bid thee now farewell, When I behold that wondrous scene, WRITTEN AT ATHENS. JANUARY 16, 1810. THE spell is broke, the charm is flown! Each lucid interval of thought Recals the woes of Nature's charter, And he that acts as wise men ought, But lives, as saints have died, a martyr. WRITTEN BENEATH A PICTURE. DEAR Object of defeated care! Though now of love and thee bereft, To reconcile me with despair Thine image and my tears are left. 'Tis said with sorrow time can cope; But this I feel can ne'er be true: For by the death-blow of my hope My memory immortal grew. WRITTEN AFTER SWIMMING FROM SESTOS TO ABYDOS,' MAY 9, 1810. IF in the month of dark December, If, when the wintry tempest roar'd, And think I've done a feat to-day. But since he cross'd the rapid tide, According to the doubtful story, To woo,-and-Lord knows what beside, T were hard to say who fared the best: He lost his labour, I my jest, For he was drown'd, and I've the ague. On the 3d of May, 1810, while the Salsette (Captain Bathurst) was lying in the Dardanelles, Licut nant Ekenhead of that frigate and the writer of these rhymes swam from the European shore to th Asiatic -by-the-by, from Abydos to Sestos would have been more correct. The whole distance from the place whence we started to our landing cu the other side, including the length we were carried by the current was computed by those on board the frigate at upwards of four English miles; though the actual breadth is barely one. The rapidity of the current is such that no boat can row directly across, and it may in some measur· be estimated from the circumstance of the whole distance bein,; accomplished by one of the parties in an hour and five, and by th other in an hour and ten minutes. The water was extremely cold from the melting of the mountain-snows. About three weeks before, in April, we had made an attempt, but having ridd n all the way from the Troad the same morning, and the water being of an icy chillness, we found it necessary to postpone the completion till the frigate anchored below the castles, when we swam the straits, as just stated, entering a considerable way above the European, anl landing below the Asiatic fort, Chevalier says that a young Jew swam the same distane for his mistress, and Oliver mentions its having len don by a Napolitan; but our consul, Tarragona, reme ubered ni her of these circumstances, and tried to dissuade us from the attempt. A number of the Salsette's crew were known to have accomplish-Ta greater distance; and the only thing that surprised me was, that, as doubts had been entertained of the truth of Leander's story, no traveller had ever endeavoured to ascertain its practicability, 1 Zʊe máu, sas agapo, or Zain poù, avg5 ¿yzπó, a Romale expression of tenderness: if I translate it I shall affront the gentlemen, as it may seem that I supposed they could not; and if I do not, I may affrout th: ladies. For fear of any misconstruction on th part of th latter I shall do so, begging pardon of th learned. It means, life, I love you! which sounds very prettily in all languages, and is as much in fashion in Greece at this day as, Juvenal tells us, the two first words were amongst the Roman ladies, whose erotic expressions were all Hellenized, s The song from which this is taken is a great favourite with the young girls of Athens of all classes. Their manner of singing it is by verses in rotation, the whole number present joining in the chorus. I have heard it frequently at our xpats in the winter of 1810-11. The air is plaintive and pretty.. I ENTER thy garden of roses, Each morning where Flora reposes, Receive this fond truth from my tongue. Yet trembles for what it has sung. Adds fragrance and fruit to the tree, When love has abandon'd the bowers; My heart from these horrors to save: Ah, tell me, my soul! must I perish By pangs which a smile would dispel? For torture repay me too well? And mourns o'er thine absence with me. ON PARTING. THE kiss, dear maid! thy lip has left, Shall never part from mine, Till happier hours restore the gift Untainted back to thine. Thy parting glance, which fondly beams, An equal love may see: The tear that from thine eyelid streams Can weep no change in me. I ask no pledge to make me blest, Nor one memorial for a breast, Whose thoughts are all thine own. Nor need I write-to tell the tale By day or night, in weal or woe, TO THYRZA. WITHOUT a stone to mark the spot, Ah, wherefore art thou lowly laid? Divided, yet beloved in vain; The past, the future fled to thee To bid us meet-no-ne'er again! Could this have been-a word, a look, That softly said, « We part in peace,» Had taught my bosom how to brook, With fainter sighs, thy soul's release. Who held, and holds thee in his heart? 'T was thine to reck of human woe, Affection's heart-drops, gushing o'er, Had flow'd as fast-as now they flow. Affection's mingling tears were ours? The smile none else might understand; That love each warmer wish forbore; But sweet to me from none but thine; |