WREATHS FOR THE MINISTERS. AN ANACREONTIC. HITHER, Flora, Queen of Flowers! From the King's well-odour'd Road, Breathes the dust and quaffs the mud! First you must then, willy-nilly, Next, our C-stl-r-gh to crown, (Such as H-df-t brought away Stitch the garland through and through With shabby threads of every hue- The ancients, in like manner, crowned their Lares, or Household Gods. See Juvenal, Sat. ix. v. 138. Plutarch, too, tells us that household gods were then, as they are now, "much given to war and penal statutes." Puvvvwdels και ποινιμους δαίμονας. 2 Certain tinsel imitations of the Shamrock which are distributed by the ser vants of C-n House every St. Patrick's Day, H H Crimp the leaves, thou first of Syrens! That's enough-away, away- Must be pluck'd to deck Old R- 66 EPIGRAM. DIALOGUE BETWEEN A DOWAGER AND HER MAID ON THE I WANT the Court-Guide," said my Lady, "to look “We've lost the Court-Guide, Ma'am, but here's the Red Book, Where you'll find, I dare say, Seymour Places in plenty!" HORACE, ODE XI. LIB. II. FREELY TRANSLATED BY G. R.1 2 COME, Y-rm-th, my boy, never trouble your brains, About what your old croney, The Emperor Boney, Is doing or brewing on Muscovy's plains; "Nor tremble, my lad, at the state of our granaries; Should there come famine, Still plenty to cram in You always shall have, my dear Lord of the Stannaries! This and the following are extracted from a work which may, some time or other, meet the eye of the public, entitled "Odes of Horace, done into English by several Persons of Fashion.' 2 Quid bellicosus Cantaber et Scythes 3 Hirpine Quincti, cogitet, Hadria Divisus objecto, remittas Quærere. nec trepides in usum Poscentis ævi pauca. Brisk let us revel, while revel we may; 1 For the gay bloom of fifty soon passes away, And then people get fat, And infirm, and—all that, And a wig (I confess it) so clumsily sits, That it frightens the little Loves out of their wits; 3 Thy whiskers, too, Y-rm-th!-alas, even they, Though so rosy they burn, Too quickly must turn (What a heart-breaking change for thy whiskers!) to Grey. Then why, my Lord Warden! oh! why should you fidget Or why should you write yourself down for an idiot, 'you," forsooth, "have the pen in your hand!” Think, think how much better (Which both you and I Should avoid, by the bye), 5 How much pleasanter 'tis to sit under the bust Of old Charley, my friend here, and drink like a new one; While Charley looks sulky, and frowns at me, just As the Ghost in the Pantomime frowns at Don Juan! To crown us, Lord Warden! In C-mb-rl-nd's garden Grows plenty of monk's hood in venomous sprigs; 1 What youth of the household will cool our noyau In that streamlet delicious, That down midst the dishes, All full of good fishes Romantic doth flow? 2 Or who will repair Unto M Sq And see if the gentle Marchesa be there? Go-bid her haste hither, 3 And let her bring with her The newest No-Popery Sermon that's going- HORACE, ODE XXII. LIB. I. FREELY TRANSLATED BY LORD ELD-N. THE man who keeps a conscience pure (If not his own, at least his Prince's), Through toil and danger walks secure, Looks big and black, and never winces! 6 No want has he of sword or dagger, Cock'd hat or ringlets of Geramb; Though Peers may laugh, and Papists swagger, He does not care one single d-mn! 7 Whether 'midst Irish chairmen going, Or through St. Giles's alleys dim, 'Mid drunken Sheelahs, blasting, blowing, No matter, 'tis all one to him. Eburna dic age cum lyra (qu. liar-a) Incomtam Lacænæ More comam religata nodo. 5 Integer vitæ scelerisque purus. 6 Non eget Mauri jaculis neque arcu, 7 Sive per Syrtes iter æstuosas, The noble translator had, at first, laid the scene of these imagined dangers of his Man of Conscience among the Papists of Spain, and had translated the For instance, I, one evening late, Singing the praise of Church and State, Across my path, gaunt, grim, and big— 3 Oh! place me 'midst O'Rourkes, O'Tooles, 4 Of Church and State I'll warble still, Though e'en Dick M-rt-n's self should grumble; Sweet Church and State, like Jack and Jill, So lovingly upon a hill Ah! ne'er like Jack and Jill to tumble ! words" 'quæ loca fabulosus lambit Hydaspes" thus-"The fabling Spaniard licks the French;" but, recollecting that it is our interest just now to be respectful to Spanish Catholics (though there is certainly no earthly reason for our being even commonly civil, to Irish ones), he altered the passage as it stands at present. 1 Namque me silvâ lupus in Sabinâ Dum meam canto Lalagen, et ultra I cannot help calling the reader's attention to the peculiar ingenuity with which these lines are paraphrased. Not to mention the happy conversion of the Wolf into a Papist (seeing that Romulus was suckled by a wolf, that Rome was founded by Romulus, and that the Pope has always reigned at Rome), there is something particularly neat in supposing "ultra terminum" to mean vacation-time; and then the modest consciousness with which the noble and learned translator has avoided touching upon the words "curis expeditis" (or, as it has been otherwise read, "causis expeditis"), and the felicitous idea of his being "inermis" when "without his wig." are altogether the most delectable specimens of paraphrase in our language. 2 Quale portentum neque militaris Daunias in latis alit æsculetis, 3 Pone me pigris ubi nulla campis Quod latus mundi, nebulæ, malusque I must here remark, that the said Dick M-rt-n being a very good fellow, it was not at all fair to make a "malus Jupiter" of him. 4 Dulce ridentem Lalagen amabo, There cannot be imagined a more happy illustration of the inseparability of Church and State, and their (what is called)" standing and falling together," |