The bard shall crown with lasting bay,
And age immortal make
Atarna's sovereign, 'reft of day
For thy dear beauty's sake:
Him therefore the recording Nine
In songs extol to heights divine,
And every chord awake;
Promoting still, with reverence due,
The meed of friendship, tried and true.—Bland.
The same.
Oh! danger-seeking Glory, through the span
Of life the best and highest aim of man:
Say, have not Greeks, to win thy love, in fight
Braved hottest perils, found in death delight?
E'en Leda's twins, when felt thy dart than death
Keener, than gold more potent, than the breath
Of balmy sleep more grateful, with hearts fix'd
By glory's charms, undaunted and untired
To honour march'd? Nor with less eager pace
Alcides battled on in glory's race;
For love of thee Achilles sought his doom;
For love of thee, 'round Ajax came the gloom
Of madness and of death; for thee, of light
Th' Atarnean's eyeballs widow'd sunk in night,
Him, therefore, shall the muse, by poet's power,
Though mortal make immortal. Glory's hour
Flits not from such: who hand and heart have given
To crown, with honours due, the child of heaven.
G. Burges.
Ariphron. (Book xv. § 63, p. 1122.)
Health! supreme of heavenly powers,
Let my verse our fortunes tell—
Mine with thee to spend the hours,
Thine with me in league to dwell.
If bright gold be worth a prayer,
If the pledge of love we prize,
If the regal crown and chair
Match celestial destinies—
