THE DEAD OX. FROM VIRGIL, GEORG. III. Lo! smoking in the stubborn plough, the ox Upturning? Yet the grape of Italy, The stored-up feast hath wrought no harm to him: Green leaf and taintless grass are all their fare; The clear rill or the travel-freshened stream Their cup: nor one care mars their honest sleep. t SPEECH OF AJAX. SOPH. AJ. 645. ALL strangest things the multitudinous years But I will journey seaward-where the shore Lies meadow-fringed-so haply wash away My sin, and flee that wrath that weighs me down. Deep in some earth-hole where no eye shall see— Is great; and strive to honour Atreus' sons. Princes they are, and should be obeyed. How else? Do not all terrible and most puissant things Yet bow to loftier majesties? The Winter, Of weary Night doth in her turn stand by, And let shine out, with his white steeds, the Day. Stern tempest-blasts at last sing lullaby To groaning seas: even the archtyrant, Sleep, Doth loose his slaves, not hold them chained for ever. And shall not mankind too learn discipline? I know, of late experience taught, that him Who is my foe I must but hate as one Whom I may yet call Friend: and him who loves me Will I but serve and cherish as a man Whose love is not abiding. Few be they Who, reaching Friendship's port, have there found rest. But, for these things, they shall be well. Go thou, Lady, within, and there pray that the Gods May fill unto the full my heart's desire. And ye, my mates, do unto me with her Like honour: bid young Teucer, if he come, To care for me, but to be your friend still. For where my way leads, thither I shall go: Do ye my bidding; haply ye may hear, Though now is my dark hour, that I have peace. |