From the Latin by Goldwin Smith
From “Elegies” Book I. II.
DEAR girl, what boots it thus to dress thy hair,
Or flaunt in silken garment rich and rare,
To reek of perfume from a foreign mart,
And pass thyself for other than thou art—
Thus Nature’s gift of beauty to deface
And rob thy own fair form of half its grace?
Trust me, no...
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From the Latin by Dr. James Cranstoun
ORPHEUS, ’t is said, the Thracian lyre-strings sweeping,
Stayed the swift stream and soothed the savage brute;
Cithæron’s rocks, to Thebes spontaneous leaping,
Rose into walls before Amphion’s lute.With dripping steeds did Galatea follow,
’Neath Ætna’s crags, lone Polyphemus’s song:
Is ’t...