THE BROKEN OAR.

ONCE upon Iceland's solitary strand
A poet wandered with his book and pen,
Seeking some final word, some sweet Amen,
Wherewith to close the volume in his hand.
The billows rolled and plunged upon the sand,
The circling sea-gulls swept beyond his ken,
And from the parting cloud-rack now and then
Flashed the red sunset over sea and land.
Then by the billows at his feet was tossed

A broken oar; and carved thereon he read,
"Oft was I weary, when I toiled at thee ";
And like a man, who findeth what was lost,
He wrote the words, then lifted up his head,
And flung his useless pen into the sea.

TRANSLATIONS.

VIRGIL'S FIRST ECLOGUE.

MELIBUS.

TITYRUS, thou in the shade of a spreading beechtree reclining,

Meditatest, with slender pipe, the Muse of the

woodlands.

We our country's bounds and pleasant pastures

relinquish,

We our country fly; thou, Tityrus, stretched in the shadow,

Teachest the woods to resound with the name of the fair Amaryllis.

TITYRUS.

O Melibœus, a god for us this leisure created, For he will be unto me a god forever; his altar

Oftentimes shall imbue a tender lamb from our

sheepfolds.

He, my heifers to wander at large, and myself, as thou seest,

On my rustic reed to play what I will, hath per

mitted.

MELIBEUS.

Truly I envy not, I marvel rather; on all sides In all the fields is such trouble. Behold, my goats I am driving,

Heartsick, further away; this one scarce, Tityrus,

lead I;

For having here yeaned twins just now among the dense hazels,

Hope of the flock, ah me! on the naked flint she hath left them.

Often this evil to me, if my mind had not been

insensate,

Oak-trees stricken by heaven predicted, as now I remember;