A PHRYGIAN and of servile origin.-After | communicate that knowledge to others. The having passed by sale from master to master, he at length fell into the hands of Iadmon of Samos, who, in admiration of his genius and acquirements, gave him his freedom. Æsop now turned his attention to foreign travel, partly to extend the sphere of his own knowledge, and partly to

latter he did by means of those Fables for which he is so celebrated, and which have associated his name with that pleasing branch of composition through all succeeding ages. The following is the only elegiac strain of his that has come down to us.

satisfaction after an honest performance of the most difficult and solemn duty, which can fall to the lot of man-the new-modelling of a political constitution for his country; in doing which he had not been unmindful of the genius and utility of the ancient institutions of the state, nor played any base game for personal power; but, alike unseduced by aristocratic influence or mob adulation, had impartially assigned to all orders such measures of power as reason and experience

taught him to believe most conducive to a total
result of good :—“ I gave," (says he,)
"I gave the people freedom clear
But neither flattery nor fear;
I told the rich and noble race

To crown their state with modest grace,
And placed a shield in either's hand,
Wherewith in safety both might stand.”-

*

"The people love their rulers best,
When neither cringed to nor opprest.'!

JUSTICE.

SHORT are the triumphs to injustice given,-
Jove sees the end of all; like vapours driven
By early Spring's impetuous blast, that sweeps
Along the billowy surface of the deeps,
Or passing o'er the fields of tender green,
Lays in sad ruin all the lovely scene,
Till it reveals the clear celestial blue
And gives the palace of the gods to view;
Then bursts the sun's full radiance from the skies,
Where not a cloud can form or vapour rise.*
-Such is Jove's vengeance: not like human ire,
Blown in an instant to a scorching fire,
But slow and certain; though it long may lie,
Wrapt in the vast concealment of the sky;
Yet never does the dread Avenger sleep,
And though the sire escape, the son shall weep.

Thence the loud thunders roar, and lightnings glare
Along the darkness of the troubled air.
Unmoved by storms, old ocean peaceful sleeps
Till the loud tempest swells the angry deeps;
And thus the state, in fell distraction tost,
Oft by its noblest citizens is lost;

And oft a people, once secure and free,
Their own imprudence dooms to tyranny.
My laws have arm'd the crowd with useful might,
Have banish'd honours and unequal right,
Have taught the proud in wealth, and high in

place,

To reverence justice, and abhor disgrace;
And given to both a shield, their guardian tower,
Against ambitious aims and lawless power.

REMEMBRANCE AFTER DEATH.
LET not a death, unwept, unhonour'd, be
The melancholy fate allotted me!
But those who loved me living, when I die,
Still fondly keep some cherish'd memory.

A FRAGMENT.

THE man that boasts of golden stores,
Of grain, that loads his groaning floors,
Of fields with freshening herbage green,
Where bounding steeds and herds are seen,
I call not happier than the swain,
Whose limbs are sound, whose food is plain,
Whose joys a blooming wife endears,
Whose hours a smiling offspring cheers.

ALCEUS.

[About 620 B. C.]

metre which bears his name, and sung of various subjects,-now celebrating the praises of Bacchus and Venus; now inveighing against tyrants; now deploring the evils of exile and war,

"Dura navis,

ALCEUS was a native of Mitylene, and a contemporary and lover of Sappho. Having bitterly satirized Pittacus for his apostasy in usurping the very powers, from which, in conjunction with himself, he had deposed a former tyrant, Alcæus was driven into exile. He endeavoured to return by force of arms, but was unsuccessful, and fell into the hands of his former friend, but now ex- Antiquity is full of his praises; but a few fragasperated conqueror, who, however, granted himments only of his poetry remain, though its echo may be sometimes heard in the strains of his successful imitator and admirer, Horace.

his liberty, observing that forgiveness was better than revenge. Alcæus was the inventor of the

Dura fugæ mala, dura belli."

SAPPHO.

[About 620 B. C.]

THIS "tenth Muse" was a native of Mitylene and sweetness, her concentrated force, passion, in the island of Lesbos. The name of her father and beauty of expression, are unsurpassed in the is said to have been Scamandronomus, and that Greek tongue, and can be transfused into no other. of her mother, Cleis. She was married to Cer- There seems to be but little doubt of the tender colas, a wealthy inhabitant of the isle of Andros, reverence and admiration wherein she was held by whom she was left early a widow, with an by the poet Alcæus, who, in a sweet, though unonly child called Cleis. Out of nine books of connected line, (found in one of his few remainlyric verse, besides numerous epigrams, epitha-ing fragments,) addresses her as his 'Ionhox”, dyvai, lamia, and other kinds of poetry, very little re-μɛchoxóμɛida Zanpoc—his violet-wreathed, pure, mains to us except the Hymn to Venus, and her sweetly-smiling Sappho.-As to the tales about Ode to the Beloved; but these alone suffice to her loves and death,-about Phaon and the Leujustify the high praises so universally awarded cadian rock,-they seem to have been utterly desto her by all Greece, and to place her in the very titute of all foundation.-See Welcker's “Sappho first rank of lyric poets. Her unaffected grace | von einem herrschenden Vorurtheil befreyt."

HYMN TO VENUS.

O VENUS, beauty of the skies!
To whom a thousand altars rise,
Gaily false in gentle smiles,
Full of love-perplexing wiles,
O goddess, from my heart remove
The wasting cares and pains of love.
If ever thou hast kindly heard
A song in soft distress preferr'd,
Propitious to my tuneful vow,
O gentle goddess, hear me now.
Descend, thou bright immortal guest,
In all thy radiant charms confest.
Thou once did leave almighty Jove,
And all the golden roofs above:
The car thy wanton sparrows drew;
Hovering in air they lightly flew;
As to my bower they winged their way,
I saw their quivering pinions play,
The birds dismiss'd (while you remain,)
Bore back the empty car again:
Then you, with looks divinely mild,
In every heavenly feature smil'd,

And ask'd what new complaints I made,
And why I call'd you to my aid?

What frenzy in my bosom raged,
And by what care to be assuaged?
What gentle youth I would allure,
Whom in my artful toils secure?
Who does thy tender heart subdue?
Tell me, my Sappho, tell me who?
Though now he shuns thy longing arms,
He soon shall court thy slighted charms;
Though now thy offerings he despise,
He soon to thee shall sacrifice;

Though now he freeze, he soon shall burn,
And be thy victim in his turn.

Celestial visitant, once more
Thy needful presence I implore!
In pity come and ease my grief,
Bring my distempered soul relief:
Favour thy suppliant's hidden fires,
And give me all my heart desires.

Another translation of the Same.
IMMORTAL Venus, throned above,
In radiant beauty! Child of Jove!
O skilled in every art of love
And playful snare;

Dread power, to whom I bend the knee,
Release my soul, and set it free
From bonds of piercing agony,

And gloomy care.

Yea, come thyself!-If e'er, benign,
Thy listening ear thou didst incline,
To my rude lay, the starry shine

Of Jove's court leaving,
In chariot yoked with coursers fair,
Thine own immortal birds, that bear
Thee swift to earth, the middle air

With bright wings cleaving.

Soon were they sped-and thou, most blest,
In thine own smiles ambrosial drest,
Didst ask what griefs my mind opprest-
What meant my song-

What end my frenzied thoughts pursue-
For what loved youth I spread anew
My amorous nets-" Who, Sappho, who
Hath done thee wrong?

What though he fly, he'll soon return-
Himself shall give, though now he spurn;
Heed not his coldness-soon he'll burn,
E'en though thou chide."