Phoebus delights to view his laurel tree,
The poplar pleaseth Hercules alone:
Melissa mother is and fautrix to the bee,
Pallas will wear the olive branch or none.
Of shepherds and their flocks Pales is Queen,
And Ceres ripes the corn was lately green.
To Chloris every flower belongs of right,
The Dryad nymphs of woods make chief account. Oreades in hills have their delight,
Diana doth protect each bubbling fount;
To Hebe lovely kissing is assigned,
To Zephyr every gentle-breathing wind.
But what is Love's delight? To hurt eachwhere,
He cares not whom, with darts of deep desire,
With watchful jealousy, with hope, with fear,
With nipping cold and secret flames of fire;
O happy hour, wherein I did forego
This little god, so great a cause of woe!
CAVENDISH COLL., CAMBRIDGE, 1888.
My liege, your highness now may do me good. DON P. My love is thine to teach: teach it but how, And thou shalt see how apt it is to learn Any hard lesson that may do thee good.
Populus Alcidæ gratissima, laurea Phœbo;
Deliciis propriis gaudet uterque deus.
Hyblæis apibus Mater fautrixque Melissa est;
Solum oleæ ramum Palladis ora gerunt.
Magna Pales ovibus domina est, oviumque magistris ;
Maturam segetem percoquit alma Ceres.
Jure suo flores poscit sibi Chloris in horto;
Silvarum est Dryadum maxima cura choro.
Montibus in summis bacchantur Oreades: omnis
Fonticuli scatebris casta Diana præest.
Oscula blanda sequi lætatur amabilis Hebe,
Omnis et a Zephyro mollior aura venit.
Ast Amor ardentes studio vehemente sagittas
Spargit, et invidias sedulus usque movet ;
Frigore nunc acri, tacitis nunc ignibus urit,
Et ciet alterna spemque metumque vice.
Felix qui potui tantam te expellere pestem,
Parvule, non parvi causa doloris, Amor!
Κ. 'Ωναξ ἔχοις ἂν πλεῖστα δή μ' ἐπωφελεῖν.
Π. ἑκόντα κινεῖς· τἄλλα δ' ἐξηγοῦ σαφῶς,
κἀγὼ διδαχθεὶς οὐδὲν ἔσθ' ὅπερ μαθεῖν
οὐκ ἂν δυναίμην οὗ σύ γ' ἂν κέρδος λάβοις.
Hath Leonato any son, my lord?
D. P. No child but Hero; she's his only heir:
Dost thou affect her, Claudio?
When you went onward on this ended action,
I look'd upon her with a soldier's eye,
That liked, but had a rougher task in hand.
Than to drive liking to the name of love.
But now I am returned, and that war thoughts
Have left their places vacant, in their rooms
Come thronging soft and delicate desires,
All prompting me how fair young Hero is,
And how I liked her ere I went to wars.
MAGDALEN COLL. SCHOLARSHIPS,
CAMBRIDGE, 1883.
O ye whose cheek the tear of pity stains,
Draw near with pious reverence and attend!
Here lie the loving husband's dear remains,
The tender father and the generous friend.
The pitying heart that felt for human woe;
The dauntless heart that feared no human pride;
The friend of man, to vice alone a foe;
For e'en his failings leaned to virtue's side.
M. T. S. TERCENTENARY EXAMINATION, 1886.
Κ. ἆρ ̓ ἐστιν ἄρσην τῷ Λεοννάτῳ γόνος ;
Π. Ηρω μόνην σοὶ διάδοχον δόμων ἔχει·
ή που σύ γ' Ἥρους αὐτὸς ἠράσθης, τέκνον ; Κ. πάλαι μὲν ἀναξ, ἡνίκ ̓ ὡρμήθη στόλος,
ἰδὼν κόρην τήνδ', ὥσπερ ἐς μάχην ἰών,
φίλην μὲν ἔσχον, ἀλλ ̓ ἔρωτ ̓ ὤκνουν λέγειν,
τοίονδ ̓ ἐπέστη πρᾶγμα καὶ μάχης πόνος.
νῦν δ ̓ αὖ καθήκω, καὶ μαχῶν ἀπαλλαγῇ
*Αρη πνεούσων εἰμὶ φροντίδων κενός,
ἁβροὶ δ ̓ ἔρωτες καὶ πόθου προθύμιαι
ὑπῆλθον, ὥστ ̓ ἐμ' ἄρτι μανθάνειν ἔχειν,
οἷον τὸ κάλλος τῇδε τῇ κόρῃ πάρα,
οἷον τ' ἔρωτα καρδίᾳ πάλαι τρέφω.
Οἷς ποτὲ κλαιομένοις ἁπαλαὶ φθινύθουσι παρειαί, δεῦτ ̓ ἄγετ, οἰκτρότατον μῦθον ἀγασσάμενοι. ἐνθάδε τὸν φιλέοντ ̓ ἄλοχον, φιλέοντα δὲ παῖδας τύμβος ἔχει, πᾶσιν τ ̓ ἀνδράσιν εὐμενέτην.
ἤχθετο γὰρ περὶ κῆρι κατοικτείρας πόνον ἀνδρῶν, οὐδ ̓ ὑπερηνορέην ἔτρεμε θαρσὺς ἐών. πάντας ὁμοῦ φιλέεσκεν, ἀλιτροσύνην δ' ἀλέεινεν, ἤμβροτεν οὐδ ̓ ἀρετῆς ὅσσ ̓ ἐποίησε κακῶς.
There in his noisy mansion skilled to rule,
The village master taught his little school.
A man severe he was, and stern to view;
I knew him well, and every truant knew.
Well had the boding tremblers learn'd to trace
The day's disasters in his morning face.
Full well they laughed with counterfeited glee
At all his jokes, for many a joke had he:
Full well the busy circle, whispering round,
Convey'd the dismal tidings when he frowned;
Yet he was kind, or, if severe in aught,
The love he bore to learning was in fault :
The village all declared how much he knew,
"Twas certain he could write and cypher, too.
In arguing, e'en the parson owned his skill,
For, e'en though vanquished, he could argue still:
While words of learned length and thundering sound
Amazed the gaping rustics ranged around.
JESUS COLLEGE SCHOLARSHIPS, CAMBRIDGE, 1888.
31 Badminton
(AFTER THE MUTINY)
Hardly a shot from the gate we stormed,
Under the Moree battlements' shade;
Close to the glacis our game was formed,
There had the fight been, and there we played.
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