Unforced by punishment, unawed by fear, His words were simple and his soul sincere. Needless was written law where none opprest: The law of man was written in his breast. No suppliant crowds before the judge appeared; No court erected yet, nor cause was heard; But all was safe, for conscience was their guard. The teeming earth, yet guiltless of the plough, And unprovoked, did fruitful stores allow; And western winds immortal spring main tained. In following years the beaded corn ensued From earth unasked, nor was the earth re-. newed. From veins of valleys milk and nectar broke, And honey sweating through the through the pores of oak. Translation of JOHN DRYDEN. THE HILL OF HONOR. The hill of Honor are nearest to the Blasts of envious fortune, whilst the low And humble valley fortunes are far more secure. HE Golden Age was first, when man, Humble valleys thrive with their bosoms full THE yet new, No rule but uncorrupted reason knew, Of flow'rs when hills melt with lightning and The rough anger of the clouds. And with a native bent did good pursue; JOHN FORD. JIT JI-TO-TEN-WO. tracted from the Man- Yo-Shiu. III. I-TO, born about 680 in Japan, was the daughter of Ten-ji. Her mother was the daughter of Ishi-Kawa-Maro, a daijin, or Horus the Brave, the offspring of the Sun, nobleman, of Saganoyamada. She married all-glorious, whom the Sun has chosen, and the emperor Ten-mu, and after his death, in the valiant Ares (Mars) has endowed. His the second year of Dai-ho (A. D. 702), as- goodness remains for ever, whom Ammon sumed the government. The ode is ex-loves, who fills with good the temple of the Phoenix. To him the gods have granted life. Horus the Brave, the Sun of Heron Rhamestes, the king of the world: He has protected Egypt and subdued her neighbors: Him the Sun loves. The gods have granted him great length of life. He is Rhamestes, the Lord of the World, the Immortal. SELECTION FROM JI-TO-TEN-WO. The pleasant spring hath passed away; In all its grandeur now be seen, Whitened with angels' robes spread far around. Translated into Latin by AMMIANUS MARCELLINUS (a Roman, born A. D. 322; died A. D. 390). As it runs through the realm of tears There are brows of beauty and bosoms of snow; There are heaps of dust-but we loved them so! There are trinkets and tresses of hair; There are fragments of songs that nobody sings, And a part of an infant's prayer; There's a lute unswept, and a harp without strings; There are broken vows and pieces of rings, And the garments that she used to wear; There are hands that are waved when the fairy-shore By the mirage is lifted in air; And we sometimes hear, through the turbulent roar, With a faultless rhythm and a musical rhyme, Sweet voices we heard in the days gone before, And a boundless sweep and a surge sublime, When the wind down the river is fair. |