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a poet; I should then endeavor to catch, by translation, the spirit of those beauties which I have always so warmly admired.*

an imperfect state, which, as soon as I have arranged and collected it, shall be submitted to the public eye.

It seems to have been peculiarly the fate of Catullus, that the better and more valuable part of his poetry has not reached us; for there is confessedly nothing in his extant works to authorize the epithet "doctus," so universally bestowed upon him by the ancients. If time had suffered his other writings to escape, we perhaps should have found among them some more purely amatory; but of those we possess, can there be a sweeter specimen of warm, yet chastened description, than his loves of Acme and Septimius? and the few little songs of dalliance to Lesbia are distinguished by such an exquisite play-only in the remembrance of his friends. fulness, that they have always been assumed as models by the most elegant modern Latinists. Still, it must be confessed, in the midst of all these beauties,

Where Mr. LITTLE was born, or what is the genealogy of his parents, are points in which very few readers can be interested. His life was one of those humble streams which have scarcely a name in the map of life, and the traveller may pass it by without inquiring its source or direction. His character was well known to all who were acquainted with him; for he had to much vanity to hide its virtues, and not enough of art to conceal its defects. The lighter traits of his mind may be traced perhaps in his writings; but the few for which he was valued live

Medio de fonte leporum

Surgit amari aliquid, quod in ipsis floribus angat.f

It has often been remarked, that the ancients knew nothing of gallantry; and we are sometimes told there was too much sincerity in their love to allow them to trifle thus with the semblance of passion. But I cannot perceive that they were any thing more constant than the moderns: they felt all the same dissipation of the heart, though they knew not those seductive graces by which gallantry almost teaches it to be amiable. Wotton, the learned advocate for the moderns, deserts them in considering this point of comparison, and praises the ancients for their ignorance of such refinements. But he seems to have collected his notions of gallantry from the insipid fadeurs of the French romances, which have nothing congenial with the graceful levity, the grata protervitas," of a Rochester or a Sedley.

As far as I can judge, the early poets of our own language were the models which Mr. LITTLE selected for imitation. To attain their simplicity ("ævo rarissima nostro simplicitas") was his fondest ambition. He could not have aimed at a grace more difficult of attainment ; and his life was of too short a date to allow him to perfect such a taste; but how far he was likely to have succeeded, the critic may judge from his productions.

I have found among his papers a novel, in rather

* In the following Poems, will be found a translation of one of his finest Carmina; but I fancy it is only a mere schoolboy's essay, and deserves to be praised for little more than the attempt.

† Lucretius.

ΤΟ

JOSEPH ATKINSON, ESQ.
MY DEAR SIR,

T. M.

I FEEL a very sincere pleasure in dedicating to you the Second Edition of our friend LITTLE'S Poems. I am not unconscious that there are many in the collection which perhaps it would be prudent to have altered or omitted; and, to say the truth, I more than once revised them for that purpose; but, I know not why, I distrusted either my heart or my judgment; and the consequence is, you have them in their original form:

Non possunt nostros multæ, Faustine, lituræ
Emendare jocos; una litura potest.

I am convinced, however, that, though not quite a casuiste relâché, you have charity enough to forgive such inoffensive follies: you know that the pious Beza was not the less revered for those sportive Juvenilia which he published under a fictitious name; nor did the levity of Bembo's poems prevent him from making a very good cardinal.

Believe me, my dear Friend,
With the truest esteem,
Yours,

T. M.

requires, that the Ramblers of Johnson, elaborate as they appear, were written with fluency, and seldom required revision: while the simple language of Rousseau, which seems to come flowing from the heart, was the slow production of painful labor, pausing on every word, and balancing every

It is a curious illustration of the labor which simplicity | sentence.

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When with wand dropping diamonds, and silvery She startled, and saw, through the glimmering feet,

It walks o'er the flow'rs of the mountain and lawn.

shade,

A form o'er the waters in majesty glide;

She knew 'twas her love, though his cheek was decay'd,

And his helmet of silver was wash'd by the tide.

Was this what the Seer of the Cave had foretold?— Dim, dim through the phantom the moon shot a gleam;

"Twas Reuben, but, ah! he was deathly and cold, And fleeted away like the spell of a dream!

Twice, thrice did he rise, and as often she thought From the bank to embrace him, but vain her endeavor!

Then, plunging beneath, at a billow she caught,
And sunk to repose on its bosom forever!

DID NOT.

"Twas a new feeling-something more
Than we had dared to own before,
Which then we hid not;
We saw it in each other's eye,
And wish'd, in every half-breathed sigh,
To speak, but did not.

She felt my lips' impassion'd touch"Twas the first time I dared so much,

And yet she chid not;

But whisper'd o'er my burning brow, "Oh! do you doubt I love you now?" Sweet soul! I did not.

Warmly I felt her bosom thrill,
I press'd it closer, closer still,

Though gently bid not;

Till-oh! the world hath seldom heard

Of lovers, who so nearly err'd,

And yet, who did not.

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No, no, be happy-dry that tear-
Though some thy heart hath harbor'd near,
May now repay its love with blame;
Though man, who ought to shield thy fame,
Ungenerous man, be first to shun thee;
Though all the world look cold upon thee,
Yet shall thy pureness keep thee still
Unharm'd by that surrounding chill;
Like the famed drop, in crystal found,'
Floating, while all was froz'n around,-
Unchill'd, unchanging shalt thou be,
Safe in thy own sweet purity.

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ANACREONTIC.

in lachrymas verterat omne merum.
TIB. lib. i. eleg. 5.

PRESS the grape, and let it pour
Around the board its purple shower;
And, while the drops my goblet steep,
I'll think in wo the clusters weep.

Weep on, weep on, my pouting vine!
Heav'n grant no tears, but tears of wine.
Weep on; and, as thy sorrows flow,
I'll taste the luxury of wo.

as this that I saw at Vendôme in France, which they there pretend is a tear that our Saviour shed over Lazarus, and was gathered up by an angel, who put it into a little crystal vial, and made a present of it to Mary Magdalen.”—Addison's Remarks on several Parts of Italy.

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