48

THE LAST TOKEN.

But thou wilt fade, bright blossom,
And then the past will seem
A dimly-lighted picture,

A mist-enveloped dream.
No token then will cheer me,

No monitor be near

To tell me of my lost love,
To tell me of my dear.

B. N. C., OXFORD.

સ

W. B.

Ariadne.

TRANSLATED FROM CATULLUS.

HERE, upon Dia's ever-echoing shore,

Sweet Ariadne stood, in fond dismay,

With wild eyes watching the swift fleet that bore Her loved one far away.

And yet she gazed incredulous, and still,
Like one awaking from beguiling sleep,
Found herself standing on the beachy hill,
Left there alone to weep.

But the quick oars upon the waters flashed,
And Theseus fled, and not a thought behind
He left, but all his promises were dashed
Into the wandering wind.

Far off she strains her melancholy eyes,

And, like a Mænad sculptured there in stone, Stands as in act to shout, for she espies

Him she once called her own.

Dark waves of care tost up and down her soul;
The fine-wove turban from her golden hair
Had fallen; the light robe no longer stole
Over her bosom bare:

Loose dropped the well-wrought girdle from her breast,
That wildly struggled to be free. They lay
About her feet, and many a briny crest

Kissed them in careless play.

But nought she recked of turban then, and nought
Of silken garments flowing gracefully.
O Theseus! far away in heart, and thought,
And soul, she hung on thee!

Ay me! that hour did love unravel there
A never-ending thread of wildering woe,
And twining round that heart rude briars of care,
Bade them take root and grow;

ARIADNE.

What time from old Piræus' curvéd strand

Chivalrous-hearted Theseus sought to bring

His vessel far away unto the land

Of the unrighteous king.

OXFORD.

MITRE.

51

From Goldsmith.

AR different these from all that charmed before,
The various terrors of that horrid shore;

Those blazing suns that dart a downward ray,

And fiercely shed intolerable day;

Those matted woods, whose birds forget to sing,
But silent bats in drowsy clusters cling;

Those poisonous fields, with rank luxuriance crowned,
Where the dark scorpion gathers death around;
Where at each step the stranger fears to wake
The rattling terrors of the vengeful snake;
Where crouching tigers wait their hapless prey,
And savage men, more murderous still than they.