WRITES he in Neski,

He roam’d abroad, when rang the chimesOn Sundays from the steeple.His mother said: ‘Loud rings the bell,Its voice ne’er think of scorning;Unless thou wilt behave thee well,‘Twill fetch thee without warning.’The child then thought: ‘High over headThe bell is safe suspended–‘So to the fields he straightway spedAs if ’twas school-time ended.The bell now ceas’d as…

Comfort impart to the mourner, and give to the doubter instruction,And let the lover rejoice, finding the bliss that he craves.For from the gods ye received what they ever denied unto mortals,Power to comfort and aid all who in you may confide.

If thou cam’st with thy line.Thou wouldst soon make me thine.To be like a fish,Brisk and quick, is my wish.Oh, were I a steed!Thou wouldst love me indeed.Oh, were I a carFit to bear thee afar!Oh, were I a steed!Thou wouldst love me indeed.I would I were goldThat thy fingers might hold!If thou boughtest aught…

Thy charms thou showest never;I tap at window, tap at door:Come, lov’d one, come! appear once more!Thou art as fair as ever!

To Psyche the poetic art;Prosaic-pure her soul remain’d.No wondrous sounds escaped her lyreE’en in the fairest Summer night;But Amor came with glance of fire,–The lesson soon was learn’d aright.

But if to some profit and use thou wouldst bend them,Take care to shear them, and then defend them.