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The following is versified from a legend, told as a true story in the history of the Domi, nican order in Portugal, by Frey Luis de Sousa.

Acta Sanctorum.



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Come, listen to a monkish tale of old,

Right catholic, but puerile some may deem,
Who all unworthy their high notice hoid

Aught but grave truths, and lofty learned theme:
Too wise for simple pleasure, smiles, and tears,
Dream of our earliest, purest, happiest years.
Come-listen to the legend; for of them

Surely thou art not: And to thee I'll tell
How on a time in holiest Santarem,

Strange circumstance miraculous befell
Two little ones; who to the sacred sbrine
Came daily, to be schooled in things divine.
Twin Sisters-orphan innocents were they :

Most pure I ween, from all but th' olden taint,
Which only Jesu's blood can wash away :

And holy, as the life of holiest saint,
Was bis, that good Dominican's, who fed
His master's lambs, with more than daily bread.
The Children's custom, wbile that pious man

Fulfilled the various duties of his state,
Within the spacious church, as Sacristan,

Was on the altar steps to sit and wait,
Nestling together ('twas a lovely sight!)
Like the young turtle doves of Hebrew rite.
A small rich chapel was their sanctuary,

While thus abiding :-with adornment fair
Of curious carved work, wrought cunningly,

In all quaint patterns, and devices rare :
And even then, above the altar, smiled,
From Mary. Mother's arms, the holy child.
Smiled on his infant guests, as there below,

On the fair altar steps, those young ones spread
-(Nor ought irreverent in such act I trow)

Their simple morning 'meal of fruit and bread.
Such feast notill beseemed the sacred dome
Their father's house is the dear children's home.

At length it chanced, that on a certain day,

When Frey Bernardo to the chapel came,
Where patiently was ever wont to stay

His infant charge; with vehement acclaim,
Both lisping creatures forth to meet him ran,
And each, to tell the same strange tale, began.
" Father!” they cried, as banging on his gown

On eitber side, in each perplexed ear
They poured their eager tidings-" He came down

Menino Jesu hath been with us here!

We prayed him to partake our fruit and bread; And he came down-and smiled on us—and fed."“ Children! my children ! know ye what ye say?”

Bernardo hastily replied—“ But hold l-
Peace, Briolanja ! -rash art thou alway:

Let laez speak.” And little Inez told,
In her slow silvery speech, distinctly o'er,
The same strange story he had heard before.
“ Blessed are ye, my children!” with devout

And deep humility the good man cried-
“ Ye have been highly favoured. Still to doubt,

Were gross impiety, and sceptic pride.
Ye have been highly favoured. Children dear!
Now your old master's faithful counsel hear.
“Return to morrow with the morning light,

And as before, spread out your simple fare
On the same table; and again invite

Menino Jesu to descend and sbare :
And if he come, say— Bid us, blessed Lord !
We and our master, to thy heavenly board.'
“Forget not, children of my soul! to plead

For your old teacher :-Even for His sake
Who fed ye faithfully: and he will heed

Your innocent lips; and I shall so partake With his dear lambs.-Beloved! with the sun Return to-morrow. -Then-His will be done."


“ To-night! to night! Menino Jesu saith

We shall sup with him, Father! we and thee,” Cried out both happy children in a breath,

As the good Father entered anxiously
About the morrow's noon, that Holy Shrine,
Now consecrate by special grace divine.
“ He bade us come alone; but then we said,

We could not, without thee, our Master dear-
At that, he did not frown, but shook his head

Denyingly: Then straight, with many a tear, We pleaded so, he could not but relent, And bowed his head, and smiled, and gave consent.” “ Now God be praised !” the old man said, and fell

Ia prayer upon the marble floor straightway, His face to Earth : And so, till Vesper bell,

Entranced in the spirit's depths he lay. Then rose like one refreshed with sleep, and stood Composed, among th' assembling Brotherhood. The mass was said ; the evening chant was o'er ;

Hushed its long echoes thro' the lofty dome : And now Bernardo knew the appointed hour

That he had prayed for of a truth was come. Alone he lingered in the solemn pile, Where darkness gained apace from alole to alole:

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Except that thro' a distant door-way streamed

One slanting sunbeam, gliding whereupon
Two angel spirits-(so in sooth it seemed

That loveliest vision)-hand in hand came on,
With noiseless motion.“ Father! we are here,”
Sweetly saluted the good Father's ear.
A hand he laid on each fair sun-bright head,

Crown'd like a seraph's with effulgent light,
And—“ Be ye blessed, ye blessed ones," he said,

“ Whom Jesu bids to his own board to-niglit! Lead on, ye chosen; to th' appointed place Lead your old master.” So, with steadfast face, He followed, where those young ones led the way

To that small chapel-like a golden clue Stream'd on before that long bright sunset ray,

Till at the door it stopt. Then passing through, The master and his pupils, side by side, Knelt down in prayer before the Crucified. Tall tapers burnt before the holy shrine; Chalice and paters on the

altar stood, Spread with fair damask. Of the crimson wine

Partaking first alone, the liviog food Bernardo next with his dear children sharedYoung lips; but well for heavenly food prepared. And then we leave them. Not for us to see

The feast made ready, that first act to crown;
Nor to peruse that wondrous mystery

Of the divine Menino's coming down
To lead away th' elect, expectant three,
With him that night at his own board to be.
Suffice it, that with him they surely were

That night in Paradise; for they who came
Next to the chapel found them as in prayer,

Still kneeling-stiffen'd every lifeless frame, With hands and eyes uprained as when they died, Towards the image of the Crucified. That mighty miracle spread far and wide,

And thousands came the feast of death to see ; And all beholdere, deeply edified,

Return'd to their own homes more thoughtfully, Musing thereon: with one great truth imprest That " to depart and be with Christ is best.”



By William Hay.


Ανθιά σοι δρέψας Ελικώνια-κ.τλ.

These primal flowers of Helicon, with cups
Of later bloom from Pierus-renowned
For poble plants, culled I enwreathe with buds
Of modern growth, and Meleager-like
Would weave a coronal of many hues.

Smit with the splendours of those elder gems,
Noble Camillus, on my flowerets too,-
Lowly and few in number though they be,-
Oh ! deign to look with thine approving eye.

Bring for my wreath thy comely spikes of corn,
Antipater ;-thy ivy-berries bring,
Crimagoras :- Antiphilus will glow
Like clustered grapes :-as melilotus fair,
Tully :—and Philodemus will entwine
Sweet marjoram :-Parmenio, myrtle leaves.

Thy roses bring, Antiphanes; and bring,
Automedon, thine ivy: lilies fair,
Miid Zonas :-

:-and Bianor, oaken sprays.
All these, with olives of Antigonus,
And Diodorus' violets I weave
Around Euenus' laurel :-and for aught
Which I may add from mine proper stock,
Oh! seek a semblance in what flower thou please.

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Iσχετι χείρα μυλαίον-κ.τ.λ.

Stop the quern's handle ; maidens, sleep away,
Though Chanticleer proclaim the dawn of day:
The nymphs, by Ceres taught, in sportive bound
Dance on the wheel that rolls the axle round,
Which, with its winding spokes, the hollow weight
Of four buge mill-stones turns by day and night.
The Golden Age has come again,-since we
The gifts of Ceres, without labour, see.


Θρήίκας αινείταω τις-κ.τ.λ.

• Praise worthy are the Thracians, who lament

The infant that hath left its mother's womb;

• " The customs of the Trauei are in every respect slınilar to those of the other Thracians, except that they bave an observance peculiar to tbemselves at their birtbe

Who deem those happy too, whom death bas sent

-Death, the Fates' minion-to the peaceful tomb,
The cup of life full many a sorrow fills;
But Death's a med'cine for its many ills.


* Τίς τον έν έσθλοΐσι πανυπενθέα-κ.τ.λ.


Moulded with envied skill, black Envy see,
A living mass of prostrate misery.
Grieved at another's good, the wretch has thrown
His aged limbs down on the hard rough stone :
And there the shrivell’d form in equalor lies,
Heaving with ill repress'd, soul-maddening sighs.
With one old hand, which props those hoary hairs,
His pale, thin temples, see, the madman tears;
Wbile, in the other hand, a staff is found,
Wherewith he smites with furious grins the ground.
Gn ing in double row, those teeth declare
How much his neighbour's weal o'erwhelms him with despair.


Πάσι θάνειν μερόπεσσιν-κ.τ.λ.


Ours and ourselves are death's : no mortal knows
Whether to-morrow's dawn his life


close :
Since thus it is, oh! short-lived man, be thine
That Lethe of oblivion-cheering wine-
And love's own joy. Child of a fleeting hour,
These in thine own, the rest's in fortune's power,


1 Μήτε με χείμματι πόντος-κ.τ.λ.


Me,- nor the surges of the winter seas
Nor the still hush of listless idlesse please.
The stir of life-where busy inen resort,
The golden mean, the just enough, I court.
Love these, loved Lampis, dread the tempest's strife,
Oh! there are Zephyrs breathing peace o’er life.

cap. 5.

and funerals. When a child is born, the neighbours flock around it with the deepest lamentations, and recounting all the evils which flesh is heir to, they bewail the new-born infant that must now endure them. But when one dies, they bury bim with demonstrations of the greatest mirth and pleasure, as being now in perfect happiness, and beyond all the ills of life,—which they enumerate."--HERODOTUS, Terpsichore,

In this version the translator has, in many places, preferred the emendations of Jacobs, which seem peculiarly happy, to the text, which appears very corrupt and obscure. This he has also done in his versions of other epigrams.

+ Vide Horace, Rectius vives, &c. VOL. XXXIX. NO, CCXLIII.

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