Selections from Lucian, with Engl. notes by E. Abbott |
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Side 135 - It is — if sense deceive her not— 'tis he ! And a God leads him, winged Mercury! Mild Hermes spake, and touched her with his wand That calms all fear: "Such grace hath crowned thy prayer, Laodamia, that, at Jove's command, Thy husband walks the paths of upper air: He comes to tarry with thee three hours...
Side 146 - It were for me To throw my sceptre at the injurious gods ; To tell them that this world did equal theirs Till they had stol'n our jewel.
Side 135 - Round the dear shade she would have clung — 'tis vain : The hours are past, — too brief had they been years; And him no mortal effort can detain : Swift toward the realms that know not earthly day, He through the portal takes his silent way — And on the palace floor a lifeless corse she lay.
Side 125 - O mother, hear me yet before I die. I wish that somewhere in the ruin'd folds, Among the fragments tumbled from the glens, Or the dry thickets, I could meet with her, The Abominable, that uninvited came Into the fair Peleian banquet-hall, And cast the golden fruit upon the board...
Side 105 - Matri longa decem tulerunt fastidia menses. Incipe, parve puer : cui non risere parentes, Nee deus hunc mensa, dea nee dignata cubili est.
Side 128 - His last feat was performed on a voyage from Icaria to Naxos. He hired a ship which belonged to Tyrrhenian pirates ; but the men, instead of landing at Naxos, steered towards Asia, to sell him there as a slave. Thereupon the god changed the mast and oars into serpents, and himself into a lion ; ivy grew around the vessel, and the sound of flutes was heard on every side ; the sailors were seized with madness, leaped into the sea, and were metamorphosed into dolphins.
Side 110 - But to me the Herald would not listen — • When the dead swept by at his command. Not with that pale crew Durst I venture too — Ever shut for me the quiet land.
Side 132 - Or sweet Europa's mantle blew unclasped From off her shoulder backward borne : From one hand drooped a crocus : one hand grasped The mild bull's golden horn.
Side 106 - Palíenles ; alias sub tristia Tartara mittit : Dat somnos adimitque, et lumina morte résignât, lila fretus agit ventos, et túrbida tranat 246 Nubila.
Side 123 - Protesilaus was the first of the Greeks to land on the Trojan shore, and therefore, as was fated, was slain by a Dardan, leaving his wife Laodamia a widow.