SPECIMENS OF TRANSLATION

FROM MEDEA.

Σκαιος δε λέγων, κεδὲν τι σοφές
Τις προσθε βροτος εκ αν αμάρτοις.
Medea, v. 194. p. 33, Glasg. edit.

TELL me, ye bards, whose skill sublime

First charmed the ear of youthful Time,

With numbers wrapt in heav'nly fire;

Who bade delighted Echo swell.

The trembling transports of the lyre

The murmur of the shell

Why to the burst of Joy alone

Accords sweet Music's soothing tone?

Why can no bard, with magic strain,
In slumbers steep the heart of pain?
While varied tones obey your sweep,
The mild, the plaintive, and the deep,
Bends not despairing Grief to hear

5

10

Your golden lute, with ravish'd ear?

Oh! has your sweetest shell no power to bind

15

The fiercer pangs that shake the mind,

And lull the wrath, at whose command
Murder bares her gory hand?

When flush'd with joy, the rosy throng

Weave the light dance, ye swell the song!

20

Cease, ye vain warblers! cease to charm

The breast with other raptures warm! Cease! till your hand with magic strain In slumbers steep the heart of pain!