EYENTY 
 
 Sonnets 
 
 Camoens 
 
 ETC. 
 
 J.J. AUBERTIN 
 
 PWi .> >??'. 
 
 m^>
 
 LIBRARY
 
 
 n* 
 
 h-W
 
 SEVENTY SONNETS 
 OF CAMOENS.
 
 Scorn not the Sonnet ; 
 
 With it Camoens soothed an exile's grief. 
 
 Wordrjuorth. 
 
 Poetas por poetas sejam lidos ; 
 Sejam so por poetas explicadas 
 Suas obras divinas. 
 
 Manoel Corria. 
 
 Let Poets be by Poets read ; 
 By Poets be interpreted 
 Their works divine. 
 
 Est quadam prodire tenus, si non datur ultra. 
 
 Hor. Epis. I. Lib. I.
 
 /bo -X y% 
 
 SEVENTY SONNETS 
 OF CAMOENS. 
 
 PORTUGUESE TEXT AND TRANSLATION. 
 
 WITH ORIGINAL POEMS. 
 
 BY 
 
 J. J. AUBERTIN, 
 
 COMMENDADOR OF THE NOBLE PORTUGUESE ORDER OF S. THIAGO j 
 
 KNIGHT OFFICER OF THE IMPERIAL BRAZILIAN ORDER OF THE ROSE ; 
 
 CORRESPONDING MEMBER OF THE ROYAL ACADEMY OF 
 
 SCIENCES IN LISBON. 
 
 LONDON: 
 
 C. Kegan Paul & Co., i Paternoster Square.
 
 {All rights reserved.}
 
 DEDICATORY LETTER. 
 
 MY Dear Burton, My present little volume 
 being now ready for publication, I come, 
 in pursuance of an often declared intention, to 
 dedicate its pages to you ; for so far as their chief 
 contents are concerned Translations from the 
 "Rimas" of our now common friend, Luiz de 
 Camoens I may apply to you the well-known 
 title of 
 
 THE ONLIE BEGETTER OF THESE INSVING SONNETS. 
 
 But for you, I never should have undertaken the 
 task of selecting and translating the Seventy of 
 the entire collection, which I now, through your 
 name, offer to an indulgent public. 
 
 Although my more arduous undertaking of 
 translating the " Lusiads " had been so favourably 
 received by our literary world, and although one
 
 vi DEDICA TORY LETTER. 
 
 of my most generous critics of that work yet one 
 of those who must be really pleased before he will 
 praise expressed a hope that I " might be induced 
 to give a complete translation of Camoens' minor 
 works," not even this flattering invitation would 
 have moved me to as much as my present effort, 
 had it not been that, while sojourning with you 
 last winter at Cairo, you had engaged me to daily 
 afternoon readings with you of your first sketches 
 of Translations of all the CCCLII Sonnets as pub- 
 lished by our friend, the Visconde de Juromenha ; 
 not only the whole of which, but also those of 
 the Caftcoes, Sextinas, Odes, and Oitavas be- 
 sides, it is your intention some day to give to 
 the world. 
 
 Such a work as this, for more reasons than one, 
 I never could attempt. I need not repeat to you 
 what we have so often discussed in conversation, 
 all my grounds for holding (so far, at all events, as 
 my own art is concerned) that the great majority 
 of these compositions, as well as of the sonnets, 
 are entirely beyond the reach of rhythmic trans- 
 lation. This essential reason, however, I may 
 mention : that without the music of the particular 
 language in which so many of them are written 
 the music being sometimes more cared for than
 
 DEDICATORY LETTER. vii 
 
 the ideas it chants I could not reproduce, to my 
 own satisfaction, either the feeling of the poet, or a 
 pleasant poem in English, or one that could be read 
 by the side of the original. These objections neither 
 you nor I have found to exist in translating the great 
 Epic ; some parts of which, and even in some few 
 studied descriptions, we both know to be somewhat 
 unmusical, but the whole of which, particularly when 
 rendered in corresponding rhyme and metre, is fairly 
 within the scope of our language. Nor have I 
 found them to exist in regard to any of the seventy 
 sonnets that I have now selected and translated. 
 
 I should be bold, perhaps, in hoping for these the 
 same amount of favour that attended my "Lusiads;" 
 yet to my own mind they do not appear to have 
 been less successfully treated ; and certainly I have 
 not bestowed less care upon them ; for if the task 
 has been less arduous, it has required much careful 
 manipulation. In their case, moreover, I have 
 had the advantage of our reading them over and 
 discussing them together; an advantage of which I 
 could not avail myself for my translation of the 
 " Lusiads," the whole of which (with the exception 
 of receiving some very few occasional suggestions 
 from friends) I was called on to carry through 
 entirely alone.
 
 viii DEDICATORY LETTER. 
 
 ' I must not, however, omit to mention that your 
 own determination to complete a translation of 
 this work (now lately published, with your Com- 
 mentary to follow), and your encouragement to me 
 not to be deterred by the mere fact that such a pro- 
 duction could never be generally popular, consider- 
 ably contributed to the final accomplishment of my 
 labours. The task of my present translations has 
 been, as were the " Lusiads," a constant source of 
 interest and occupation; often a refuge in times 
 of vacancy or bad weather ; and for the sake of 
 pleasant recollections of my own, I have noted 
 at the bottom of each sonnet where it was com- 
 posed; realising in this respect the well-known 
 phrase of Cicero : " Haec studia . . . delectant 
 domi, non impediunt foris, pernoctant nobiscum, 
 perigrinantur, rusticantur." 
 
 It is not worth while to crowd this volume with 
 too much introductory matter, but I may further 
 remark that as neither you nor I would have under- 
 taken to translate the " Lusiads " had we thought 
 that work already fairly done, so we may say the 
 same as regards the Sonnets. I cannot accept, 
 and I am sure you cannot, the two or three that 
 have fallen from the several pens of Southey, 
 Adamson, and Hayley. Especially I cannot accept
 
 DEDICATORY LETTER. ix 
 
 of Lord Strangford's twenty. To these last, Lord 
 Byron's observation is the best that can be applied, 
 without the necessity of adding his poetical ana- 
 thema : " It is also to be remarked that the things 
 given to the public as poems of Camoens are no 
 more to be found in the original Portuguese than 
 in the Song of Solomon." What you and I have 
 always had in view, in treating our great poet, has 
 been this : to study his truthfulness and his sim- 
 plicity, and to endeavour to render him faithfully ; 
 not riding off from his occasional peculiar turns of 
 thought, in order, covertly, to avoid difficulties, nor 
 introducing some commonly received parochial 
 phrases, instead of his own peculiar expressions ; 
 especially not affecting to be very poetical where 
 he is not poetical at all. No former translators 
 of Camoens have ever shown sufficient respect 
 for their author to confine themselves to these 
 rules. 
 
 As regards the sonnet itself, I doubt whether it 
 is, or ever will be, a really popular form of poem 
 in the English language, and I almost venture 
 to doubt, also, whether our language is exactly 
 suitable for it. Byron hated sonnets, and called 
 them " the most puling, petrifying, stupidly platonic 
 compositions." Wordsworth wrote numbers of
 
 x DEDICATORY LETTER. 
 
 them, with a sonnet in defence of the sonnet, 
 thus showing, by the way, that he thought defence 
 was needed. Sonnet writers, however, have never 
 failed to appear among us, and the subject seems 
 to-day to be attracting more than usual attention. 
 Indeed, the edition of Lord Strangford's " Poems 
 from the Portuguese of Luiz de Camoens" now 
 before me, is the fifth, and may not, for aught I 
 know, be the latest ; and so far I may be encour- 
 aged. But I must candidly say, that if the popu- 
 larity of his lordship's work, which is thus indicated, 
 arose from the mere English poems themselves as 
 he published them, then Camoens, honestly trans- 
 lated, may not stand an equal chance of being as 
 popular as Lord Strangford ; for there is scarcely 
 a trace of the original, in either thought or phrase, 
 in Lord Strangford's compositions. I do not, how- 
 ever, believe it will be thus. Camoens' Sonnets, 
 faithfully interpreted, letter and spirit, will be 
 quite new to the English ear, and, I anticipate, 
 will be pleasing; though anything pertaining to 
 the Portuguese language is confessedly but little 
 known or thought of among us. 
 
 A curious fact in our literature, only lately made 
 known to me, will serve to illustrate what I have just 
 now said. I had heard of, but in my ignorance
 
 DEDICATORY LETTER. xi 
 
 had never read, Mrs. Browning's "Sonnets from 
 the Portuguese." Hastening of late to procure the 
 volume containing them, I found there was no sort 
 or kind of the Portuguese element in any one of 
 the whole forty of them. This mystery was solved, 
 however, by my being informed, on inquiring 
 of authority, that the title was a mere fiction; 
 that the authoress, not wishing the world to be too 
 familiar with her own heart's feelings, had pur- 
 posely invented a misleading title; and that to 
 render concealment all the surer, she had resorted 
 to the word "Portuguese," as referring to the 
 language which was the least known, or scarcely 
 known at all, in our literary world, and into which 
 few or none would be likely to look in search of 
 her originals.* 
 
 Now, as I had determined to make the National 
 Epic of Portugal (the language of which I had been 
 called upon for years to study and speak and write) 
 known in England in its own colours, so now, 
 under the inducements above referred to, I have 
 worked out Seventy Sonnets of the same author 
 with a corresponding object ; having done which, 
 
 * I observe that Mr. Waddington mentions Camoens in his 
 late publication, "English Sonnets," as being, with Ariosto, 
 Tasso, &c., among those writers who have been especially 
 successful as sonneteers.
 
 xti DEDICATORY LETTER. 
 
 I shall henceforth consider that I have fulfilled 
 my duty to Camoens, in introducing him fairly to 
 our English literature, however English literature 
 may be disposed to receive him. This much I 
 have felt I owed to the country where I learned his 
 language ; and I have done my best to discharge 
 that debt worthily. If 1 have now failed to render 
 my author faithfully, to reproduce his feeling, and to 
 present a sufficiently pleasing collection of English 
 poems, then I must confess to have failed in this 
 volume, to have come short of the approval ac- 
 corded to me for my last work, and to have done 
 you the injustice of attaching a weak performance 
 to a strong name. The larger and heavier task of 
 translating his every Une is meanwhile reserved 
 for you ; 
 
 " Cui labor ingeminat vires, dat cura quietem." 
 
 I have followed the form of publication observed 
 in my " Lusiads." I publish the original of every 
 sonnet. It is said that Fairfax (to whose great 
 translation of Tasso one of my leading critics did 
 me the honour of comparing mine) could not 
 venture to do this. But I do it for Camoens' 
 sake, and will cheerfully run the risk of suffering 
 anything thereby at the hands of those who know
 
 DEDICATORY LETTER. xiii 
 
 enough of languages to make them competent 
 judges of translation. There is, of course, always 
 one risk to be run in offering this challenge while 
 translating an author of three centuries old. Pre- 
 tentious commentators will discover beauties in 
 his defects, and sweetness in his rudeness. In the 
 sonnets, however, Camoens, though certainly now 
 and then obscure and sometimes fantastical, is 
 almost always sweet. Yet he will now and then 
 insist on a blunt phrase rather than be artificial 
 and untruthful. As regards obscurities, by the 
 way, how true it is that while the author is living 
 they are treated as marks of weakness ; but when 
 dead, as mines of meaning. 
 
 I have almost invariably strictly followed the 
 order of the rhymes, a matter of considerable 
 difficulty in English. Of our language, in this 
 respect, we may well say with Fielding, in his 
 " Amelia : " " Rhymes are difficult things ; they are 
 stubborn things, sir." Of the facilities for rhyming 
 in the Portuguese I have already said enough in 
 my Introduction to the " Lusiads." Now and then 
 (but in only two or three cases) I have been 
 forced to change their order; the better to pre- 
 serve the feeling of the original; and this has been 
 the case even in the famous No. XIX Further,
 
 xiv DEDICATORY LETTER. 
 
 I take the full responsibility of the two adjec- 
 tives " resemblant " and "amene," and of the 
 substantive "unlove," claiming for them perfect 
 legitimacy. 
 
 In No. XIII. I have not been able to resist the 
 temptation of translating the sonnet into stanzas ; 
 while in No. LIX. I have purposely altered the 
 order of the rhymes, making this heroic composi- 
 tion close with a couplet, as being essential to 
 convey its full force to the English ear. In point of 
 fact, I really believe the general English ear always 
 looks for a couplet at the end of a sonnet. Shake- 
 speare constantly concludes long blank verse 
 speeches in this form. So did Ben Jonson and 
 others. This kind of ending offers a species of 
 final chord without which the poem appears to 
 many to have arrived only at the "half-close." 
 Rossini used to complain with much annoyance 
 that the public never understood his delicate 
 Adagio conclusions; and it was he, I believe, 
 who emphasised for classical music the measure 
 called the Coda. Only in the real land and 
 language of the sonnet, perhaps, is its completion 
 really understood, where it floats away in a nose- 
 gay of vowels, in alternate or distant rhymes. I 
 was struck by the remark of an intelligent person
 
 DEDICATORY LETTER. xv 
 
 who had copied out all these sonnets for me. He 
 told me he thought them very smooth and pretty, 
 but that somehow they seemed to finish before one 
 had got to the real end of them. I attributed this 
 to the want of the final couplet. The musical 
 public annoyed Rossini by their similarly defective 
 ear, which required the hammer of his Coda. 
 
 It now remains to observe upon my having 
 added some original poems of my own, with one 
 or two other translations, to this volume, which I 
 dedicate to you as having provoked my Camoens' 
 Sonnets. I do so in order to give them a place in 
 print. Defoe wrote the tale of Mrs. Veal's Ghost 
 for the purpose of carrying the sale of your ancestor 
 Drelincourt's dismal book on Death; and so I 
 cleave to my friend Camoens to give these short 
 poems some life. The different members of the 
 family have come forth, from time to time, at long 
 intervals, during these last five and twenty years, 
 and they exhibit various dispositions among them. 
 One of the youngest, which I make introductory 
 to his own sonnets, consists of stanzas supposed 
 to have been addressed by the Spirit of Camoens 
 to his countrymen, at the national celebration of 
 the Tercentenary of his death, on the ioth of 
 last June, 1880; on which occasion it was with
 
 xvi DEDICATORY LETTER. 
 
 considerable regret that I found you were not 
 to be my companion in Lisbon. 
 
 In full belief that my volume will find many 
 readers for Camoens' sake, 
 
 I remain, my dear Burton, 
 
 Yours sincerely, 
 
 J. J. AUBERTIN. 
 
 P.S. I must not on any account omit to add 
 that I have had the advantage of reading over my 
 proofs with my friend Dr. Saraiva, from whose 
 well-known command, both as scholar and poet, 
 of his own language, and thorough proficiency in 
 English, I have derived many valuable sugges- 
 tions. In particular, I have adopted his ortho- 
 graphy and accentuation.
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 Sonetos. 
 
 Sonnets. 
 
 j Em quanto quiz Fortuna que tivesse 
 
 I While Fortune was disposed to cheer my sight 
 
 ( Em flor vos arrancou, de entao crescida 
 
 l In blossom thou wast snatched, but newly grown 
 
 $ N'hum jardim adornado de verdura 
 ( Into a garden all adorned with green 
 
 ( Todo animal da calma repousava 
 
 ( AH living things are resting from the heat . 
 
 ( Quando da bella vista e doce riso . 
 
 ( When of the lovely sight my feeding eyes . 
 
 j Doces lembrancas da passada gloria . 
 ( Sweet memories of a glory past in vain 
 
 ( Alma minha gentil, que te partiste . 
 
 ( My gentle spirit ! thou who hast departed . 
 
 ( N'hum bosque, que das nymphas se habitava 
 ( Within a wood nymphs were inhabiting 
 
 f Chara minha inimiga, em cuja mao 
 
 I Thou, in whose gentle hand, my dear unkind 
 
 f Aquella triste e leda madrugada 
 
 I That shining morning's dawn so sad for me 
 
 / Esta-se a Primavera trasladando 
 
 ( The spring is copying all that it doth wear 
 
 ( Esta o lascivo e doce passarinho 
 
 ( The pretty, sweet, and wanton little bird 
 
 PAGE 
 
 4 
 5 
 6 
 7 
 
 13 
 
 14 
 IS 
 16 
 J 7 
 
 i3 
 19
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 xxxvn i ^* P 355 * 8 ' caminhante. Quern me chama? 
 
 ' t Stop, passer by Who calls me ? 'Tis the claim 
 
 / Alegres campos, verdes arvoredos . 
 
 ( Ye cheerful meadows and ye woodlands green 
 
 ( Quantas vezes do fuso se esqtiecia . 
 * I As oft as Daliana's spindle fell 
 
 . ( Lindo e subtil trancado, que fi caste. 
 I Sweet, delicate fillet, who art left behind . 
 
 xliii $ cysne quando sente ser chegada . 
 
 ( The swan, when feeling that its hour is o'er 
 
 v f Tomava Daliana, por vinganca 
 I Sad Daliana, vengeful of her swain . 
 
 ( Apartava-se Nise de Montano 
 
 ( Nise departed from Montano's side . 
 
 ( Naiades, v<5s que os rios habitais 
 
 ( Naiades, ye who in the streams abide 
 
 x / Quern jaz no griio sepulchro, que descreve . 
 t Who lies in this great sepulchre that shows 
 
 f Na metade do Ceo subido ardia 
 ' ( In heaven's high midst the brilliant Shepherd Guide 
 
 lxxi $ J a a r ^ xa e Dranca Aurora destoucava 
 
 ' I Now pearly, rosy morn spread forth above . 
 
 f Quando de minhas magoas a comprida 
 ' ( When long imaginings on griefs supreme . 
 
 ( Quem fosse acompanhando juntamente 
 ' ( Oh I but the little bird to accompany 
 
 i Ondados-fios de ouro reluzente 
 ' ( V'e waving, flowing threads of golden sheen 
 
 ( No mundo quiz o Tempo que se achasse 
 ' ( Time in the world at one time was intent . 
 
 (A perfeicao, a graca, o doce geito . 
 ' t Perfection, sweet demeanour, grace divine . 
 
 f O raio crystallino se estendia 
 ' t Aurora with her new-born crystal ray 
 
 i No mundo poucos annos e cansados 
 ( On earth few years and weary did I live 
 
 ( Moradoras gentis e delicadas 
 
 ( Dwellers, all grace and loveliness, where flows 
 
 ( Brandat aguas do Tejo que, passando 
 Waters of gentle Tagus, calmly flowing
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 xix 
 
 ( Nao vas ao monte, Nise, com teu gado 
 
 I Don't venture, Nise, to the mount to-day . 
 
 { Tornai essa brancura a alva assucena 
 
 l Give back that whiteness to the lily white . 
 
 J Este terreste caos com seus vapores 
 
 I This earthly chaos, with its vaporous air . 
 
 J Nunca em amor damnou o atrevimento 
 ( Never did love his boldness hurtful find 
 
 { Doces e claras aguas do Mondego . 
 
 ( Sweet waters of Mondego's stream refined . 
 
 ( Presenca bella, angelica figura 
 
 ( Fair presence, figure as an angel's fair 
 
 j Por cima destas aguas forte e firme . 
 
 t Over these waters firm and strong I'll go . 
 
 f Quando se vir com agua o fogo arder 
 I When flaming fire with water is allied 
 
 ( Na margem de hum ribeiro, que fendia 
 ' Upon the margin of a stream, whose bed . 
 
 ( Eu me aparto de v6s, Nymphas do Tejo 
 t My Nymphs of Tagus, I depart, adieu ! 
 
 f A la margen del Tajo, en claro dia . 
 ( On Tagus' margin, in the bloom of day 
 
 {En una selva al dispuntar del dia 
 Within a forest at the break of day . 
 
 f Campo ! nas syrtes deste mar da vida 
 ' t Country ! when quicksands in this life's sea loom 
 
 f O Ceo, a terra, o vento socegado 
 
 I All hushed the heaven and earth, and wind the same 
 
 I Horas breves de meu contentamento 
 ' I Short hours, with whom contentment I could find 
 
 f Por sua nympha Cephalo deixava . 
 i Cephalus for his nymph had cast aside 
 
 f Sentindo-se alcancada a bella esposa 
 
 ( Now when the lovely spouse of Cephalus knows 
 
 ( Os olhos onde o casto Amor ardia . 
 
 v The eyes where love in chastest fire would glow 
 
 J Agora toma a espada, agora a penna 
 
 l Now in his hand the sword, and now the pen 
 
 f Correm turbas as aguas deste rio 
 ( The waters of this river turbid flow . 
 
 FAGB 
 
 68 
 69 
 
 70 
 7' 
 72 
 73 
 
 74 
 75 
 76 
 77 
 78 
 79 
 
 100 
 101 
 
 102 
 103 
 
 104 
 105 
 106 
 107
 
 XX 
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 CCl. XXXVIII, 
 
 CCCXXXVIII, 
 
 ( De frescas belvederes rodeadas . 
 
 I By landscape-scenes surrounded, fresh and gay 
 
 ( Levantai, minhas Tagides, a frcnte 
 ( Exalt on high your brow, my Tagides 
 
 ( Debaixo desta pedra sepultada 
 
 ( Beneath this monumental stone enshrined 
 
 ( Ditosas almas, que ambas juntamente 
 
 ( Blest souls, who hand in hand from here below 
 
 f Em huma lapa toda tenebrosa 
 ' I Within an ocean grotto, dark and bare . 
 
 ( Qu.il te a borboleta por costume . 
 ' ( E'en as the butterfly that courts its doom 
 
 / A formosura desta fresca serra 
 
 < The beauty of these mountains, fresh as day 
 
 ( Indo o triste pastor todo embebido 
 
 ( All sorrowful as strayed the shepherd swain 
 
 f Doce sonho, suave e soberano 
 
 ' Sweet dream, so soothing, and so passing sweet 
 
 _( Em quanto Phebo os montes accendia 
 
 ( While Phoebus o'er the mountains lustre shed 
 
 ( Todas as almas, tristes, se mostravara 
 
 I The souls of all were sad in solemn prayer 
 
 ( Em hum batel que com doce meneio 
 
 ( In a light barque, that gliding sweetly on 
 
 j Se a ninguem tratais com desamor 
 
 ( If thou indifference wilt display to none . 
 
 ( Al pie de una verde y alta enzina . 
 
 ( Beneath a green and lofty oak reclined . 
 
 ( Do corpo estava ja quasi forcada . 
 
 t Half plucked already from the body's load 
 
 ( Com o generoso rostro alanceado . 
 
 (His generous visage gashed with heathen blade 
 
 _( Quando do raro esforco que mostravas . 
 ( While by thy prowess, shown in rare degree 
 
 ( Tu que descanso buscas com cuidado 
 ' ( Thou who some calm art craving to provide
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 ORIGINAL SONNETS. 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 PAGE 
 
 " REJOICE WITH TREMBLING " 
 
 
 
 
 147 
 
 "the poetry of astronomy" . 
 
 
 
 
 148 
 
 THE GROTTO OF LOURDES 
 
 
 
 
 149 
 
 CAUTERETS THE MOUNTAIN 
 
 
 
 
 ISO 
 
 CAUTERETS THE CLOUD . 
 
 
 
 
 5 
 
 NORWAY THE MIDNIGHT DAY 
 
 
 
 
 152 
 
 NORWAY THE MID-DAY NIGHT 
 
 
 
 
 153 
 
 PIC DU MIDI DE BIGORRE 
 
 
 
 
 154 
 
 THE FIELD OF BALACLAVA 
 
 
 
 
 iS5 
 
 A DREAM . 
 
 
 
 
 
 156 
 
 THE NILE . 
 
 
 
 
 
 157 
 
 TO AUGUSTA 
 
 
 
 
 
 158 
 
 THE MOTHER'S LAMENT 
 
 
 
 
 
 159 
 
 FOLLOW THE LIGHT 
 
 
 
 
 
 160 
 
 CONTENT AND AMBITION 
 
 
 
 
 
 . 161 
 
 THE DEATH-BED . 
 
 
 
 
 
 162 
 
 IS YOUR GOD LOVE ? 
 
 
 
 
 
 163 
 
 MAN 
 
 
 
 
 
 164 
 
 NON CREDENS 
 
 
 
 
 
 165 
 
 CREDENS . 
 
 
 
 
 
 166 
 
 CHRISTIANUS 
 
 
 
 
 
 167 
 
 NAZARETH 
 
 
 
 
 
 . 168
 
 XV.l 
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 POEMS FROM ROME 
 1856-57. 
 
 
 FAG a 
 
 THE CiESARS* PALACE 
 
 . 171 
 
 LA SPERANZA (GUIDO) 
 
 174 
 
 LA MADDALENA (GUIDO) . 
 
 175 
 
 l'annunziazione (guido) 
 
 . 176 
 
 TO TIBUR .... 
 
 *77 
 
 FAREWELL TO ROME 
 
 . 181 
 
 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 
 
 ON THE DEATH OF HENRY HAVELOCK, NOVEMBER 1857 187 
 
 REFLECTIONS AT MIDNIGHT .... I90 
 
 UNDER THE YEW-TREE, IN CHIPSTEAD CHURCHYARD, 
 
 SURREY ...... 194 
 
 TIME IS LIFE . . . . . .197 
 
 LIFE IS CHANGE . . . . . . 198 
 
 YOUTH, AGE, AND DEATH ..... 200 
 
 SEVENTY YEARS TO-DAY ..... 203 
 
 THE OLD WIDOWER SHEPHERD TO HIS DEAD DOG . 2o6 
 
 TO ROSA ....... 208 
 
 COMING WINTER ...... 2IO 
 
 OVER THE SNOW ...... 213 
 
 MY TWO NIGHTINGALES ..... 2l6
 
 CONTENTS. xxiii 
 
 PACK 
 SUPPOSED TO BE ADDRESSED BY A BASKET OF FLOWERS 
 
 TO A LADY IN LONDON .... 219 
 
 ENIGMA . . . . . . .1 221 
 
 TO MISS G ...... 223 
 
 LIE AND LAY ...... 224 
 
 TO CATHERINE ...... 225 
 
 ACROSTIC TO A LADY ..... 226 
 
 ANOTHER ....... 227 
 
 THE SOLDIER'S HEART ..... 228 
 
 THE TEAR, THE SMILE, AND THE DEWDROP . . 230 
 
 TWO WISHES ...... 232 
 
 VISIT TO THE NOBLE RUINS OF KOM OMBO . . 234 
 
 THE DYING PALM TREE ..... 237 
 
 THE RETURN OF THE PILGRIMS FROM MECCA TO CAIRO, 
 
 FEBRUARY 1 6, l88o ..... 238 
 
 STANZAS . . . . . . .241 
 
 MISCELLANEOUS TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 O POETA PORTUGUEZ, BOCCAGE, A MEMORIA DAS VIC- 
 TORIAS DE LORD NELSON SOBRE OS FRANCESES . 244 
 THE PORTUGUESE POET, BOCCAGE, TO THE MEMORY OF 
 
 LORD NELSON'S VICTORIES OVER THE FRENCH . 245 
 
 THE ERLKING (GOETHE) ..... 246 
 
 DU BIST WIE EINE BLUME (HEINE) . . . 248 
 
 HOSPITAL PRACTICE IN FRANCE (VOLTAIRE) . . 249 
 
 HORACE ....... 250 
 
 OLD EPIGRAM ON THE BIBLE .... 253
 
 @>tan?a# 
 
 Supposed to have been addressed by the Spirit of Camoens to tlie 
 Portuguese nation on the occasion of their celebrating the 
 Tercentenary of his death, when his bones and those of Vasco 
 da Gama were finally transferred to the Convent Church of 
 San Jeronymo \oth June 1880. 
 
 I SAW, though all unseen, the solemn train 
 That spread in coloured grandeur o'er the breast 
 Of Tagus, carrying to their final rest 
 My bones and his, our hero of the main. 
 
 And Tagides * were there, and ah ! once more 
 It seemed to me that I could sound a strain 
 Among my countrymen : but that was vain, 
 Only my bones were lying by the shore. 
 
 Oh ! Lusitania, still my native land, 
 Though now three hundred years ago I died, 
 Oh! bear in constant mind the strength and pride 
 Of ours, who owned the patriot's heart and hand. 
 
 These have I sung, and all that could inspire 
 Remembrance of our never numerous band, 
 But always mighty heart, steeled to withstand 
 The ocean's storms, the foeman's sword and fire. 
 
 * Nymphs of Tagus.
 
 2 STANZAS. 
 
 Thou hast thy freedom ; this was their bequest, 
 No ocean passage there remains to find ; 
 And for a record of their naval mind, 
 Behold two spreading empires, east and west. 
 
 My country ! 'neath the smiles of peace, secure 
 Name worthy that our earlier sons possessed ; 
 With freedom, science, arts, and commerce blessed. 
 A people noble, and your rulers pure. 
 
 Mark well your solemn pledge: these festive days 
 Are more than empty joys ; they are a vow, 
 That as our fathers strove, so you will now 
 'Midst Europe's nations this, our own, to raise. 
 
 Why have ye reared a statue to my fame ? 
 Why have ye bound its brows with poets' bays ? 
 'Tis that this vow, this purpose it displays, 
 Or 'tis a Nothing and usurps my name. 
 
 Ye are its spirit : I have ceased to live ; 
 And if the sufferings of neglected years 
 Drew from my living eyes some bitter tears, 
 Your hearts to-day have taught me to forgive. 
 
 Farewell ! I watch you with a spirit's eyes, 
 Your higher thoughts and acts shall still survive, 
 For as yourselves and sons shall faint or strive, 
 Our land, our Lusitania, lives or dies !
 
 SO NET OS. 
 
 SONNETS.
 
 SONETOS. 
 
 SERVE BE INTRODUCQAO. 
 
 | ^ M quanto quiz Fortuna que tivesse 
 ' Esperan^a de algum contentamento, 
 O gosto de hum suave pensamento 
 Me fez que seus effeitos escrevesse. 
 Pore'm temendo Amor que aviso ddsse 
 Minha escriptura a algum juizo isento, 
 Escureceo-me o engenho co' o tormento, 
 Para que seus enganos nao dissesse. 
 O vds, que Amor obriga a ser sujeitos 
 A diversas vontades ! quando lerdes 
 N'hum breve livro casos tao diversos ; 
 (Verdades puras sam, e nao defeitos) 
 Entendei que segundo o amor tiverdes, 
 Tereis o entendimento de meus versos.
 
 SONNETS. 
 
 INTRODUCTORY. 
 
 \T 7HILE Fortune was disposed to cheer my 
 
 * * sight 
 With hope some consolation here to find, 
 With pleasing tone of thought it cheered my mind, 
 So that of all its influence I could write ; 
 But Love, from fear that in my page I might 
 To some free revelation be inclined, 
 With torment turned my inclination blind, 
 Lest I should bring his own deceits to light. 
 Oh ! ye, whom Love compels the slaves to be 
 Of various wills, when reading shall reveal 
 Such things as I in this small book rehearse, 
 Nought feigned, but all of purest verity, 
 Know that, according to the love ye feel, 
 The spirit ye shall feel of this my verse. 
 
 Trieste, Aiimst 1880.
 
 SONETOS. 
 
 XII. 
 
 A morte de D, Antonio de Noronha ; morreu em uma cilada 
 nos campos de Cent a. 
 
 I I* M flor vos arrancou, de entao crescida, 
 ' (Ah Senhor Dom Antonio !) a dura sorte 
 Donde fazendo andava o brago forte 
 A fama dos antiguos esquecida. 
 Huma so raz^o tenho conhecida 
 Com que tamanha mdgoa se conforte : 
 Que se no Mundo havia honrada morte, 
 N2o podieis vds ter mais larga vida. 
 Se meus humildes -versos podem tanto 
 Que co' o desejo meu se iguale a arte, 
 Especial materia me sereis. 
 E celebrado em triste e longo canto, 
 Se morrestes nas mos do fero Marte, 
 Na memoria das gentes vivereis.
 
 SONNETS. 
 
 XII. 
 
 On the death of D. Antonio de Noronha, who was killed in a 
 Moorish ambuscade at Ceuta. 
 
 T N blossom thou wast snatched, but newly grown, 
 ** Ah ! Don Antonio, by too harsh a blow, 
 Where by the arm of valour thou didst show 
 The memory of the ancients overthrown : 
 One only sad reflection have I known, 
 Whence to seek comfort for such grievous woe ; 
 That as the World could glorious death bestow, 
 Thou couldst not claim a longer life thine own. 
 If to my humble verse such power belong, 
 That equal art respond to my desire, 
 Thou shalt afford me an illustrious theme ; 
 And hymned in mournful and extended song, 
 If hand of cruel Mars have quenched thy fire, 
 Eternal memory shall thy death redeem. 
 
 Trieste to Pola, August 1880.
 
 SONETOS. 
 
 XIII. 
 
 Escripto a uma Senhora Chamada Violante. 
 
 \T 'HUM jardim adornado d,e verdura, 
 
 Que esmaltavam por cima varias flores, 
 Entrou hum dia a deosa dos amores, 
 Com a deosa da ca^a e da espessura. 
 
 Diana tomou logo hfla rosa pura, 
 Venus hum roxo lyrio, dos melhores ; 
 Mas excediam muito as outras flores 
 As violas na graca e formosura. 
 
 Perguntam a Cupido, que alii estava, 
 Qual de aquellas tres flores tomaria 
 Por mais suave e pura, e mais formosa. 
 
 Sorrindo se o menino lhes tornava : 
 Todas formosas sao ; mas eu queria 
 Viola antes que lyrio, nem que rosa.
 
 SONNETS. 
 
 XIII. 
 
 Addressed to a young lady called Violante, here Violetta. 
 
 INTO a garden all adorned with green, [face, 
 Whereof bright flowers bedecked the enamelled 
 The goddess fair of Love to come was seen, 
 Linked with the goddess of the wood and chase. 
 
 Uiana pulled a rose, of purest hue ; 
 Venus, a purple lily, choicest there ; 
 But, beyond all that in the garden grew, 
 In beauty and in grace the violets were. 
 
 Of Cupid they demand, who stood hard by, 
 Of those three chosen flowers the which he deemed 
 The fairest, sweetest, purest, to his eye, 
 Which of the lovely three the loveliest seemed. 
 
 Then Cupid smiling answered : Must I choose ? 
 All are so beautiful, so charming ! yet 
 Before the lily, e'en before the rose, 
 Truly I do prefer the Violet. 
 
 Cairo, February 27, 1880.
 
 io SONETOS. 
 
 XIV. 
 
 Queixas de Lisa, vendo sua datna despreza-lo 
 por outrem. 
 
 r I ^ODO animal da calma repousava, 
 So Liso o ardor della niio sentia ; 
 Que o repouso do fogo, em que elle ardia, 
 Consistia na nympha que buscava. 
 Os montes parecia que abalava 
 O triste som das magoas que dizia : 
 Mas nada o duro peito commovia, 
 Que na vontade de outro posto estava. 
 Cansado ja de andar por a espessura, 
 No tronco de huma faia, por lembranca, 
 Escreve estas palavras de tristeza : 
 Nunca ponha ninguem sua esperanca 
 Em peito feminil, que de natura 
 S<5mente em ser mudavel tern firmeza.
 
 SONNETS. 
 
 XIV. 
 
 Complaint of Lis o, on finding himself slighted by his beloved 
 for another. 
 
 A LL living things are resting from the heat ; 
 **- *" Liso alone its ardour fails to know, 
 For safety from the fires that in him glow- 
 Lies in the nymph whom he desires to meet. 
 The mountains seem, all troubled, to repeat 
 The mournful strains that from his bosom flow, 
 But no response the obdurate heart would show, 
 Which to the wishes of another beat. 
 All tired, as through the forest dense he goes, 
 He sadly carves, that memory may not fade, 
 These words of anguish on a beechen tree ; 
 Ah ! never let a mortal's hope repose 
 On woman's breast, who, as by nature made, 
 Is constant only in inconstancy. 
 
 At sea, Lisbon to St. Michael's, June 1880.
 
 12 SONETOS. 
 
 xvn. 
 Enlevado na dace vista da sua amante. 
 
 QUANDO da bella vista e doce riso 
 Tomando estam meus olhos mantimento, 
 Tao elevado sinto o pensamento, 
 Que me faz ver na terra o Paraiso. 
 Tanto do bem humano estou diviso, 
 Que qualquer outro bem julgo por vento : 
 Assi que em termo tal, segundo sento, 
 Pouco vem a fazer quern perde o siso. 
 Em louvar-vos, Senhora, nao me fundo ; 
 Porque quern vossas gramas claro sente, 
 Sentira que n2o pdde conhecellas. 
 Pois de tanta estranheza sois ao mundo, 
 Que nSo he de estranhar, dama excellente, 
 Que quern vos fez, fizesse Ceo e Estrellas.
 
 SONNETS. 13 
 
 XVII. 
 
 In deep admiration of his beloved. 
 
 \ T J HEN of the lovely sight my feeding eyes 
 
 * Devour their joy, and of the honied smile, 
 
 I feel my thoughts so lifted up the while, 
 That earth to me appeareth Paradise : 
 And human bliss so far, so separate lies, 
 That any other bliss I deem but wind ; 
 So that in such a temper, to my mind 
 But little wants it that the judgment flies. 
 Lady, of praising thee I make not show, 
 For he who doth thy beauties clearly prove, 
 Must prove that to conceive them 'tis not given ; 
 So great a wonder art thou here below, 
 That, lovely nymph, no wonder can it move, 
 That He who made thee made the Stars and 
 Heaven. 
 
 London, September 1880.
 
 14 SONETOS. 
 
 XVIII. 
 
 Qudxa-se das suas proprias mtmorias, e do esquecimento 
 da parte da sua arnante. 
 
 T^vOCES lembrancas da passada gloria, 
 ^~^ Que me tirou Fortuna roubadora, 
 Deixai-me descansar em paz hum'hora, 
 Pois comigo ganhais pouca victoria. 
 Impressa tenho na alma larga historia 
 Deste passado bem, que nunca fora ; 
 Ou fora, e nao passara : mas ja agora 
 Em mi nao pode haver mais que a memoria. 
 Vivo em lembrancas, morro de esquecido 
 Ue quem sempre devera ser lembrado, 
 Se lhe lembrara estado tao contente. 
 Oh quem tornar podera a ser nascido ! 
 Soubera-me lograr do bem passado, 
 Se conhecer soubera o mal presente.
 
 SONNETS. 15 
 
 XVIII. 
 
 A complaint against his cnvn memories and the forge/fulness of 
 his beloved. 
 
 WEET memories of a glory past in vain, 
 
 **-* Which Fortune, the despoiler, snatched full 
 
 blown, 
 Grant me to call one hour of peace mine own, 
 For conquest over me is small to gain. 
 My soul large story doth impressed retain 
 Of this past good which never should have shone, 
 Or, having shone, ne'er fled ; but, being flown, 
 Nought but my recollections can remain. 
 
 1 live in memories ; being forgotten die, 
 
 By her whose memory should have held me fast, 
 Had she those pleasing hours remembered still : 
 Oh ! that a new life were my destiny ; 
 Well had I known to enjoy the good that's past, 
 Had I but known to test the present ill. 
 Fiume, August 1880.
 
 1 6 SONETOS. 
 
 XIX. 
 
 A linda poesia, feita d morU de D. Catharina de Athaide. 
 
 A LMA minha gentil, que te partiste 
 "* * Tao cedo desta vida descontente, 
 Repousa la no Ceo eternamente, 
 E viva eu ci na terra sempre triste. 
 Se la no assento Ethereo, onde subiste, 
 Memoria desta vida se consente, 
 Nao te esquecas de aquelle amor ardente, 
 Que ja nos olhos meus tao puro viste. 
 E se vires que pode merecer-te 
 Algtia cousa a dor que me ficou 
 Da magoa, sem remedio, de perder-te ; 
 Roga a Deos que teus annos encurtou, 
 Que t2o cedo de ci me leve a v&r-te, 
 Quao cedo de meus olhos te levou.
 
 SONNETS. \7 
 
 XIX. 
 
 The famous sonnet written on the death of Donna 
 Catharina de Athaide. 
 
 "TV IT Y gentle spirit ! thou who hast departed 
 "* So early, of this life in discontent, 
 
 Rest thou there ever, in Heaven's firmament, 
 While I live here on earth all broken-hearted ; 
 In that Ethereal Seat, where thou didst rise, 
 If memory of this life so far consent, 
 Forget not thou my ardent love unspent, 
 Which thou didst read so perfect in mine eyes. 
 And if, perchance, aught worthy thee appears 
 In my great cureless anguish for thy death, 
 Oh ! pray to God who closed so soon thy years, 
 That He will also close my sorrowing breath, 
 And swiftly call me hence thy form to see, 
 As swiftly he deprived these eyes of thee. 
 
 Brazil, 1873.
 
 1 8 SONETOS. 
 
 xx. 
 
 A linda Nympha Sibella. 
 
 "XT'HUM bosque, que das nymphas se habitava, 
 
 Sibella, nympha linda, andava hum dia ; 
 E subida em huma arvore sombria, 
 As amarellas flores apanhava. 
 Cupido, que alii sempre costumava 
 A vir passar a se*sta a sombra fria, 
 Em hum ramo arco e settas, que trazia, 
 Antes que adormecesse, pendurava. 
 A nympha, como idoneo tempo vira 
 Para tamanha empresa, n2o dilata ; 
 Mas com as armas foge ao mocp esquivo. 
 As settas traz nos olhos, com que tira. 
 O pastores ! fugi, que a todos mata, 
 Sen5o a mim, que de matar-me vivo.
 
 SONNETS. 19 
 
 xx. 
 
 The beautiful Nymph Sibella. 
 
 IT 7ITHIN a wood nymphs were inhabiting, 
 
 Sibella, lovely nymph, was wandering free ; 
 And climbing up into a shady tree, 
 The yellow blossoms there was gathering. 
 Cupid, who thither ever turned his wing, 
 Cool in his shady mid-day sleep to be, 
 Would on a branch, ere sleeping, pendant see 
 The bow and arrows he was wont to bring. 
 The nymph, who now the moment fitting saw 
 For so great enterprise, in nought delays, 
 But flies the scorner with the arms she's ta'en. 
 She bears the arrows in her eyes, to draw. 
 Oh ! shepherds fly, for every one she slays, 
 Save me alone, who live by being slain. 
 
 At sea, from Madeira to Lisbon, July 1880.
 
 20 SONETOS. 
 
 XXIII. 
 
 A morte de uma Senhora na India, que morrtu afcgada. 
 
 S~^ HARA minha inimiga, em cuja mao 
 ^" / Poz meus contentamentos a ventura, 
 Faltou-te a ti na terra sepultura, 
 Porque me falte a mi consolac2o. 
 Eternamente as aguas lograrao 
 A tua peregrina formosura : 
 Mas em quanto me a mim a vida dura, 
 Sempre viva em minha alma te acharSo. 
 E se meus rudos versos podem tanto, 
 Que possam prometter-te longa historia 
 De aquelle amor tao puro e verdadeiro ; 
 Celebrada seras sempre em meu canto : 
 Porque em quanto no mundo houver memoria, 
 Serd a minha escriptura o teu letreiro.
 
 SONNETS. 21 
 
 XXIII. 
 
 On the death of a lady he loved in India ; and who was 
 drowned. 
 
 / *T"*HOU, in whose gentle hand, my dear unkind, 
 -^ Fortune had bid me seek contentment pure, 
 To thee hath earth refused sepulture, 
 That thus it might refuse me peace of mind. 
 The waters in their cold embrace shall bind 
 For evermore thy rarest cynosure, 
 But, while this dreary life shall still endure, 
 Thee ever living in my soul shall find. 
 And if to my rude verse such power belong 
 That I can promise thee a lasting fame 
 Of all thy love so pure and true to me, 
 Thou shalt be ever honoured in my song, 
 For while among us memory holds a name, 
 My lines thy lasting epitaph shall be. 
 
 At sea, Gibraltar to Malta [Mongolia), July 1880.
 
 22 SONETOS. 
 
 XXIV. 
 
 Uma terna despedida. 
 
 AQUELLA triste e leda madrugada, 
 "* * Cheia toda de magoa e de piedade, 
 Em quanto houver no mundo saudade 
 Quero que seja sempre celebrada. 
 Ella s6, quando amena e marchetada 
 Sahia, dando a" terra claridade, 
 Vio apartar-se de huma outra vontade, 
 Que nunca podera ver-se apartada ; 
 Ella so vio as ldgrimas em fio, 
 Que de huns e de outros olhos derivadas, 
 Juntando-se, formaram largo rio ; 
 Ella ouvio as palavras magoadas, 
 Que poderam tornar o fogo frio, 
 E dar descanso as almas condemnadas.
 
 SONNETS. 23 
 
 XXIV. 
 
 Tender record of a parting. 
 
 '"T^HAT shining morning's dawn so sad for me, 
 Full of all grief the broken heart can prove, 
 While fond remembrance can the bosom move, 
 I would it ever may recorded be. 
 That morn alone, all smiles and marquetry, 
 It saw, while opening daylight from above, 
 Saw one love parting from another love, 
 Which never can its own self parted see. 
 That morn alone did coursing tears behold, 
 That fell from mutual eyes in constant flow, 
 And into one united river rolled ; 
 It heard the words of anguish and of woe, 
 That might e'en turn the eternal fire to cold, 
 And respite on condemned souls bestow. 
 
 At sea, Gibraltar to Malta {Mongolia), July 1880.
 
 24 SONETOS. 
 
 XXVIII. 
 
 Retrato primoroso da sua dama, de cujafrieza die 
 se-queixa. 
 
 I "* STA-SE a Primavera trasladando 
 ' Em vossa vista deleitosa e honesta ; 
 Nas bellas faces, e na boca e testa, 
 Cecens, rosas, e cravos debuxando. 
 De sorte, vosso gesto matizando, 
 Natura quanto pode manifesta, 
 Que o moate, o campo, o rio, e a floresta, 
 Se estam de vds, Senhora, namorando. 
 Se agora nao quereis que quern vos ama 
 Possa colher o fructo destas flores, 
 Perderflo toda a graga os vossos olhos. 
 Porque pouco aproveita, linda dama, 
 Que semeasse o Amor em vds amores, 
 Se vossa condicao produze abrolhos.
 
 SONNETS. 25 
 
 XXVIII. 
 
 Draws a beautiful portrait of a lady, and complains of her 
 coldness. 
 
 '"T" S HE spring is copying all that it doth wear 
 
 "* Upon thy vision, beautiful and chaste ; 
 On thy sweet cheeks and lips and brow are traced 
 Roses and pinks and lilies, painted there. 
 E'en nature thus, with blended colours rare 
 Decking thy looks, doth plainly manifest 
 That mountain, river, forest, field and waste 
 Are courting thee around, oh ! lady fair ! 
 If now thou wiliest not that he who loves 
 Should gather of the fruits these flowers have shown, 
 Then must thine eyes no more to grace pretend ; 
 For, lovely nymph, of small avail it proves 
 That Love should round thee loveliness have sown, 
 If all thy charms in only thorns must end. 
 
 Lisbon, June 1880.
 
 26 SONETOS. 
 
 XXX. 
 
 Que foi ferido pelo dais Amor, como um passarinho pdo 
 cafador. 
 
 P7 ST A o lascivo e doce passarinho 
 ' Com o biquinho as pennas ordenando ; 
 O verso sem medida, alegre e brando, 
 Despedindo no rustico raminho. 
 O cruel cacador, que do caminho 
 Se vem callado e manso desviando, 
 Com prompta vista a setta endireitando, 
 Lhe da" no Estygio Lago eterno ninho. 
 Desta arte o corac&o, que livre andava 
 (Postoque ja de longe destinado), 
 Onde menos temia, foi ferido. 
 Torque o frecheiro cego me esperava, 
 Para que me tomasse descuidado, 
 Em vossos claros olhos escondido.
 
 SONNETS. 27 
 
 XXX. 
 
 Compares himself, shot by love, to a little bird shot by a 
 sportsman. 
 
 *" I ^HE pretty, sweet, and wanton little bird 
 
 "*" With its small beak its feathers is arranging ; 
 Its soft, bright notes, beyond all measure changing, 
 All pouring from the woodland twig are heard. 
 The cruel bowman, stealthily awake, 
 And turning from his path with footstep sly, 
 Fixes his arrow-head with rapid eye, 
 And builds him final nest in Stygian Lake. 
 E'en thus the heart that erst had beaten free, 
 Though for long period past it destined lay, 
 Where it had least suspected wounded lies ; 
 Because the archer blind lay wait for me, 
 That he might seize his unsuspecting prey, 
 Lying close hid within thy brilliant eyes. 
 
 Metz, September 1880.
 
 28 SONETOS. 
 
 xxxvn. 
 
 A nwmoria de algum companheiro de Sanlo Ignacio de 
 Loyola. 
 
 "NT AO passes, caminhante. Quern me chama ? 
 
 Hfia memoria nova e nunca ouvida, 
 De hum que trocou finita e humana vida 
 Por divina, infinita, e clara fama. 
 Quem he, que tao gentil louvor derrama ? 
 Quern derramar seu sangue nto duvfda, 
 Por seguir a bandeira esclarecida 
 De hum capit^o de Christo que mais ama. 
 Ditoso fim, ditoso sacrificio, 
 Que a Deos se fez e ao mundo juntamente ! 
 Pregoando direi tdo alta sorte. 
 Mais poderas contar a toda a gente 
 Que sempre deo na vida claro indicio 
 De vir a merecer tao santa morte.
 
 SONNETS. 29 
 
 XXXVII. 
 
 To the memory of a warrior, supposed by the V. de Juromeiiha 
 to have been a companion of Saint Ignatius de Loyola. 
 
 O TOP, passer by Who calls me ? 'Tis the claim 
 
 Of a new memory, heard of ne'er before ; 
 Of one who human finite life gave o'er 
 For infinite divine and brilliant fame. 
 Who's he that sheds such lustre round his name ? 
 He who shrank not to shed his blood of yore 
 In honour of the exalted flag he bore, 
 Captain of Christ, to love Whom was his aim. 
 Thrice blessed end, thrice blessed sacrifice, 
 Made to his God, and to the world as well ; 
 So high a call I'll sing with loudest breath ; 
 More canst thou teach the world his name to prize ; 
 His life by brilliant tokens did foretell 
 He would be worthy of such holy death. 
 
 Trieste, Opcina, August 1880.
 
 3Q SONETOS. 
 
 XL. 
 
 Visitando urn logar onde outra orafdrafeliz (talvez Cirt/ra), 
 defois da tnorte de D. Catkarina de Athaide. 
 
 ALEGRES campos, verdes arvoredos, 
 Claras e frescas aguas de crystal, - 
 Que em vds os debuxais ao natural, 
 Discorrendo da altura dos rochedos : 
 Sylvestres montes, asperos penedos 
 Compostos de concerto desigual ; 
 Sabei que sem licenca de meu mal 
 Ja nao podeis fazer meus olhos ledos. 
 E pois ja me nao vedes como vistes, 
 Nao me alegrem verduras deleitosas, 
 Nem aguas que correndo alegres vem. 
 Semearei em vos lembran^as tristes, 
 Regar-vos-hei com lagrimas saudosas, 
 E nascer5o saudades de meu bem.
 
 SONNETS. 31 
 
 XL. 
 
 Cintra revisited after the death of Catharina de Athaide. 
 
 ~\7 r E cheerful meadows and ye woodlands green, 
 
 And ye, ye crystal waters, fresh and clear, 
 Whereon like nature painted these appear, 
 Who take your source the lofty rocks between ; 
 Ye sylvan mounts, harsh crags, that in the scene 
 An aspect of unequal concert wear, 
 Know that without compliance of my care 
 Ye are not to my eyes what ye have been. 
 And since ye view me not as long ago, 
 No longer now delights the verdured mead, 
 Nor cheerful running streams can pleasure bring ; 
 Among you sad remembrances I'll sow, 
 Will water with recording tears the seed, 
 And longing memories of my joy shall spring. 
 
 Trieste, August 1880.
 
 32 SONETOS. 
 
 XLI. 
 
 Daliana, chorando, amava a Silvio, de quern nao era amada, 
 Laurenio a amava sent ser amada. 
 
 /^U ANT AS vezes do fuso se esquecia 
 
 Daliana, banhando o Undo seio, 
 Outras tantas de hum dspero receio 
 Salteado Laurenio a cor perdia. 
 Ella, que a Sylvio mais que a si queria, 
 Para pode-lo ver nao tinha meio. 
 Ora como curara o mal alheio 
 Quern o seu mal tao mal curar podia ? 
 Elle, que vio tao clara esta verdade, 
 Com solucos dizia (que a espessura 
 Inclinavam, de magoa, a piedade) : 
 Como pode a desordem da natura 
 Fazer tao differentes na vontade 
 Aos que fez tao con formes na ventura ?
 
 SONNETS. 33 
 
 XLI. 
 
 Daliana, weeping, is watched by Laurenio who loved her, 
 while she loved Silvio, who did not love her. 
 
 AS oft as Daliana's spindle fell, [apart, 
 
 * ^ Her bosom bathed with tears, all thoughts 
 So oft Laurenio felt his stricken heart 
 Seized by a sudden shock, as by a spell : 
 She who loved Silvio, not herself so well, 
 How to behold him could invent no art : 
 How then to cure another lover's smart, 
 When how to cure her own she could not tell ? 
 He who was doomed this truth so clear to prove, 
 Exclaimed in sighs, which e'en with sympathy 
 Could the dark forest by their anguish move, 
 How should such discord in great nature be ? 
 Making two souls so different in their love, 
 Yet so resemblant in their destiny ! 
 
 At sea, Gibraltar to Malta (Mongolia), Jvly i8o. 
 
 C
 
 34 SONETOS. 
 
 XLII. 
 
 A uma fita que aperiara os cabellos da sua amante, dada por 
 esta, como gracejo. 
 
 TINDO e subtil trancado, que ficaste 
 
 * ' Em penhor do remedio que merecp, 
 
 Se s6 comtigo, vendo-te, endoudecp, 
 
 Que fora co' os cabellos que apertaste ? 
 
 Aquellas trancas de ouro que ligaste, 
 
 Que os raios do sol tee em pouco precp, 
 
 Nao sei se ou para engano do que peco, 
 
 Ou se para me atar as desataste. 
 
 Lindo trancado, em minhas maos te vejo, 
 
 E por satisfac^o de minhas dores, 
 
 Como quem nao tee outra, hei de tomar-te: 
 
 E se nSo for contente o meu desejo, 
 
 Dir-lhe-hei que nesta regra dos amores 
 
 Por o todo tambem se toma a parte.
 
 SONNETS. 35 
 
 XLII. 
 
 To a fillet, given him in jest, from her hair, by a lady 
 with whom he 'was in love. 
 
 QWEET, delicate fillet, who art left behind, 
 
 ^^ In pledge the joy I merit to redeem, 
 
 If, only seeing thee, half lost I seem, [wind ? 
 
 What with the locks round which thou erst didst 
 
 Those golden tresses where thou wast entwined, 
 
 That hold the sunbeam's glow in light esteem, 
 
 I know not if to mock my prayerful dream, 
 
 Or if to bind me thou didst them unbind. 
 
 Sweet fillet, in my hands I see thee lie, 
 
 And that my grief some solace I may show, 
 
 As one who hath no other, thee I take : 
 
 And if my wish thou dost not satisfy, 
 
 Still, in the rule of love, I'll bid her know, 
 
 Sometimes we keep the part for the whole's sake. 
 
 Fiume to Adelsberg, August 1880.
 
 36 SONETOS. 
 
 XLIII. 
 
 Cantando a falsa ft da sua amantt, compara-se ao cysnc, 
 que estd proximo a morrer. 
 
 S~\ CYSNE quando sente ser chegada 
 ^-^^ A hora que poe termo i. sua vida, 
 Harmonia maior, com voz sentida, 
 Levanta por a praia inhabitada. 
 Deseja lograr vida prolongada, 
 E della esta chorando a despedida : 
 Com grande saudade da partida, 
 Celebra o triste fim desta Jornada. 
 Assi, Senhora minha, quando eu via 
 O triste fim que davao meus amores, 
 Estando posto ja no extremo fio ; 
 Com mais suave accento de harmonia 
 Descantei por os vossos desfavores 
 La vuestra falsa fe, y el amor mio.
 
 SONNETS. 37 
 
 XLIII. 
 
 Weeping on account of false love, he compares himself to a 
 dying swan. 
 
 r I '"HE swan, when feeling that its hour is o'er, 
 
 And that the moment's come when it must die, 
 Lifts saddest voice and sweetest harmony, 
 Along the lone and solitary shore : 
 Desires its life prolonged a little more, 
 And leaving its existence with a sigh, 
 And fondest longing of a last good-bye, 
 Doth this sad journey's coming close deplore. 
 E'en thus, my Fair, when I was doomed to see 
 The mournful end that all my loves befell, 
 While on the last remaining point I strove, 
 With all my sweetest song and harmony 
 Upon thy cold unkindness did I dwell, 
 On all thy treacherous faith and on my love. 
 
 At sea, from Madeira to Lisbon, July 1880.
 
 38 SONETOS. 
 
 XLV. 
 
 Daliana, desprezada por Silvio, casa-se por tint pique 
 amoroso, e i infeliz. 
 
 'HT^OMAVA Daliana, por vinganca 
 
 ** Da culpa do pastor que tanto amava, 
 Casar com Gil vaqueiro : e em si vingava 
 O erro alheio, e perfida esquivanga. 
 A discric2o segura, a confianca 
 Das rosas que o seu rosto debuxava, 
 O descontentamento lhas mudava ; 
 Que tudo muda huma dspera mudanca. 
 Gentil planta disposta em secca terra ; 
 Lindo fructo de dura mo colhido ; 
 Lembrangas de outro amor, e (6 perjura, 
 Tornaram verde prado em dura serra ; 
 Interesse enganoso, amor fingido, 
 Fizeram desditosa a formosura.
 
 SONNETS. 39 
 
 XLV. 
 
 Daliana, slighted by Silvio, marries a hind from pique, and 
 suffers from the miseries of memory. 
 
 O AD Daliana, vengeful of her swain, [loved, 
 ^-^ Turned, for his fault whom she had fondly 
 To marry Gil, the hind ; and victim fell 
 To sin of other and his false disdain. 
 The self-possession, self-reliant vein 
 That, traced in roses, on her brow would dwell, 
 Sad discontent doth change them and dispel, 
 For a harsh change must aye change all to pain. 
 Delicate plant, to barren earth transferred ; 
 Beautiful fruit, gathered by hand so rude ; 
 Memories of former love and faith forsworn 
 Have turned the verdant mead to mountain hard ; 
 Interest all false, love only to delude, 
 Have beauty left ill-fated and forlorn. 
 
 Trieste, August 1880.
 
 4o SONETOS. 
 
 LI 1 1. 
 
 Nontano, em uma praia do Indico Oceano, chora a 
 partida de Nise. 
 
 APARTAVA SE Nise de Montano ; 
 
 Em cuja alma, partindo-se, ficava ; 
 Que o pastor na memoria a debuxava, 
 Por poder sustentar-se deste engano. 
 Por huma praia do Indico Oceano 
 Sobre o curvo cajado se encostava, 
 E os olhos por as aguas alongava, 
 Que pouco se doiao de seu dano. 
 Pois com tamanha magoa e saudade 
 (Dizia) quiz deixar-me a que eu adoro, 
 Por testemunhas t6mo Ceo e Estrellas : 
 Mas se em vos, ondas, mora piedade, 
 Levai tambem as ldgrimas que ch6ro, 
 Pois assi me levais a causa dellas.
 
 SONNETS. 41 
 
 LIII. 
 
 The shepherd Montana, wandering on the shores of the Indian 
 Ocean, mourns the departure of Aise. 
 
 \T ISE departed from Montano's side, 
 
 Within whose soul, departing, still she stays ; 
 The shepherd's memory every line portrays, 
 This fond illusion to sustain and hide. 
 Along the shore of India's Ocean wide, 
 Leaning upon his crook, he pensive strays, 
 And o'er the waters pours his longing gaze, 
 Who little mourn what ills may him betide. 
 In such distress and anguish of farewell 
 She, I adore, to leave me here was fain, 
 Whereof the Stars and Heaven I witness show : 
 But ye, ye waves, if pity in you dwell, 
 Oh ! bear away these tears I weep with pain, 
 As her ye bore away who bids them flow. 
 
 At sea, Gibraltar to Malta {Mongolia), July 1880.
 
 42 SONETOS. 
 
 LVI. 
 
 Convida as Nayades e as Driades a ver outros olhos e 
 outras agoas. 
 
 TV TAIADES, v6s que os rios habitais, 
 
 Que os saudosos campos vam regando, 
 De meus olhos vereis estar manando 
 Outros que quasi aos vossos sam iguais. 
 Dryades, que com setta sempre andais 
 Os fugitivos cervos derribando, 
 Outros olhos vereis, que triumphando 
 Derribam coracoes, que valem mais. 
 Deixai logo as aljavas e aguas frias, 
 E vinde, nymphas bellas, se quereis, 
 A ver como de huns olhos nascem magoas. 
 Notareis como em vSo passam os dias ; 
 Mas em vao no vireis, porque achareis 
 Nos seus as settas, e nos meus as dgoas.
 
 SONNETS. 43 
 
 LVI. 
 
 He invites the Naiades and the Dryades to leave their rivers 
 and woods and see the arro-ws and "waters of the love he 
 suffers. 
 
 TV T AIADES, ye who in the streams abide, 
 "* Watering the joyous meadows where they go, 
 From these mine eyes, behold, shall others flow, 
 Almost as plenteous as your river tide ; 
 Dryades, ye that course the forests wide, 
 The flying stags with arrows to o'erthrow, 
 Some other eyes triumphant ye shall know, 
 O'erthrowing hearts a chase of greater pride. 
 Leave now the quivers and the waters cold, 
 And come, fair nymphs, if so ye be inclined, 
 To know how pangs can spring from eyes that 
 Ye shall behold how days in vain are told, [shine ; 
 But not behold in vain, for ye shall find 
 In hers the arrows and the streams in mine. 
 
 Trieste, August 1880.
 
 44 SONETOS. 
 
 LIX. 
 
 Kecitado for occasiao da trasladafdo do corpo de El-Rei 
 D. Joao III. para o mostciro de Beletn, 1572. 
 
 /^\UEM jaz no grao sepulchro, que descreve 
 
 Tao illustres signaes no forte escudo ? 
 Ninguem ; que nisso, em flm se torna tudo : 
 Mas foi quem tudo pode e tudo teve. 
 Foi Rei ? Fez tudo quanto a Rei se deve : 
 Poz na guerra e na paz devido estudo. 
 Mas qu5o pezado foi ao Mouro rudo, 
 Tanto lhe seja agora a terra leve. 
 Alexandro serd ? Ninguem se engane : 
 Mais que o adquirir, o sustentar estima. 
 Serd Hadriano grao Senhor do mundo ? 
 Mais observante foi da Lei de cima. 
 He Numa ? Numa n3o, mas he Joane 
 De Portugal Terceiro sem segundo.
 
 SONNETS. 45 
 
 LIX. 
 
 Recited on the occasion of removing the bones of D.John III. 
 to the Monastery of Belem, 1572. 
 
 TT THO lies in this great sepulchre that shows 
 Signs so illustrious on the valiant shield ? 
 No one ; for to this end all things must yield : 
 But he did all and could all : as he chose. 
 A King ? he wrought what King to self King owes : 
 He studied arts of peace and of the field : 
 Heavily as the rude Moor's fate he sealed, 
 So lightly on him now may earth repose ! 
 Is't Alexander ? you mistake the man : 
 Rather he loved to keep than to acquire. 
 Is it the world's great master, Hadrian ? 
 He held the sacred law of Heaven far higher. 
 Numa ? It is not Numa, it is John 
 Of Portugal, the Third : second to none. 
 
 Cairo, February 1880.
 
 46 SONETOS. 
 
 N 
 
 LXX. 
 
 Pastor Liso (que i o Poeta) e o Echo. 
 
 A metade do Ceo subido ardia 
 
 O claro, almo Pastor, quando deixav3o 
 O verde pasto as cabras, e buscavio 
 A frescura suave da agua fria. 
 Com a folha das drvores, sombria, 
 Do raio ardente as aves se arnparavao : 
 O mddulo cantar, de que cessavao, 
 So nas roucas cigarras se sentia ; 
 Quando Liso pastor n'hum campo verde 
 Natercia, crua nympha, so buscava 
 Com mil suspiros tristes que derrama. 
 Porque te vas de quem por ti se perde, 
 Para quem pouco te ama ? (suspirava) 
 E o Echo lhe responde : Pouco te ama.
 
 SONNETS. 47 
 
 LXX. 
 
 The Shepherd Liso {who is the Poet) and Echo. 
 
 T N heaven's high midst the brilliant Shepherd 
 
 * Guide 
 
 Was shining hot ; the flocking goats resigned 
 Their pastures green, a refuge cool to find 
 In the sweet freshness of the waters' side : 
 The birds had gone in leafy shades to hide 
 From ardent rays ; the melodies combined 
 Of all their warbling that they now declined, 
 Was by shrill grasshoppers alone supplied ; 
 When Liso, shepherd, o'er a verdant plain 
 Sought for Natercia, cruel nymph, alone, 
 'Midst thousand mournful sighs he poured in vain. 
 " Why fliest him who's lost in thee for one 
 Who cannot care for thee " 'tis thus he sighs, 
 And Echo " cannot care for thee " replies. 
 
 At sea, from Lisbon to Madeira, June 1880.
 
 48 SONETOS 
 
 LXXI. 
 
 Dous pastores ausentes de suas amantes, que os amatn. 
 
 T A a roxa e branca Aurora destoucava 
 Os seus cabellos de ouro delicados, 
 E das flores os campos esmaltados 
 Com crystallino orvalho borrifava ; 
 Quando o formoso gado se espalhava 
 De Sylvio e de Laurente por os prados ; 
 Pastores ambos, e ambos apartados, 
 De quem o mesmo amor nao se apartava. 
 Com verdadeiras lagrimas Laurente, 
 Nao sei (dizia) 6 nympha delicada, 
 Porque nao morre ja quem vive ausente : 
 Pois a vida sem ti n5d presta nada. 
 Responde Sylvio : Amor n2o o consente : 
 Que ofiende as esperangas da tornada.
 
 SONNETS. 49 
 
 LXXI. 
 
 Two shepherds absent from their two beloved, who do not 
 fail to love them. 
 
 \T OW pearly, rosy morn spread forth above 
 -*- The delicate threads of all her golden hair, 
 
 And o'er the enamelled meadows breathed her air, 
 The crystal dew from blossoms to remove ; 
 When Silvio and Laurente, tending, drove 
 Their beauteous flocks for pasture to repair, 
 Both shepherds, both far absent from their fair, 
 From whom there was not absent equal love. 
 With tears unfeigned Laurente thus doth sigh : 
 Oh ! gentle nymph, 'tis miracle to me, 
 How he that lives in absence doth not die, 
 For life is nothing worth, away from thee ! 
 Love will not suffer, Silvio makes reply, 
 Hope of return should so offended be. 
 
 At sea, to St. MichatVs, June 1880.
 
 5o SONETOS. 
 
 LXXII. 
 
 Appanci-lhe em sonhos a sua amada Dinamene, mas 
 elle acorda. 
 
 /^UANDO de minhas magoas a comprida 
 ^ Maginacao os olhos me adormece, 
 Em sonhos aquella alma me apparece, 
 Que para mi foi sonho nesta vida. 
 La n'huma soidade, onde estendida 
 A vista por o campo desfallece, 
 Corro apoz ella ; e ella entao parece 
 Que mais de mi se alonga, compellida. 
 Brado : Nao me fujais, sombra benina. 
 Ella (os olhos em mi co'hum brando pejo, 
 Como quern diz, que ja n2o pode ser) 
 Torna a fugir-me : torno a bradar : Dina . . 
 E antes que diga vunc, acdrdo, e vejo 
 Que nem hum breve engano posso ter.
 
 SONNETS. 51 
 
 LXXII. 
 
 His beloz'ed Dinamene appears in dreams, but he tvakes. 
 
 TT J HEN long imaginings on griefs supreme 
 
 * * Have overwhelmed in sleep my wearied eyes, 
 That spirit will in dreams before me rise, 
 Which ever was for me in life a dream. 
 There in a solitude, in whose extreme 
 My vision, o'er the plain extended, dies, 
 I follow after her, and as she flies, 
 As if impelled, still farther doth she seem. 
 I call Oh ! shade benignant, do not fly : 
 She, with soft bashful eyes on me inclined, 
 (As who would say, I never can be thine !) 
 Still flies again : again I Dina cry 
 And mene still would say, but wake to find 
 Not e'en a short illusion can be mine. 
 
 At sea (Mongolia), Gibraltar to Malta, July 1880.
 
 52 SONETOS. 
 
 LXXVI. 
 
 Feilo em frisao, quando da China regressou fara Goa, e 
 depots da tnorte de D. Catharina de Athaide. 
 
 /^\UEM fosse acompanhando juntamente 
 '^ Por esses verdes campos a avezinha 
 Que despois de perder hum bem que tinha, 
 N2o sabe mais que cousa he ser contente ! 
 E quem fosse apartando-se da gente, 
 Ella por companheira e por vizinha, 
 Me ajudasse a chorar a pena minha, 
 E eu a ella tambem a que ella sente ! 
 Ditosa ave ! que ao menos, se a natura 
 A seu primeiro bem nao da segundo, 
 Dd-lhe o ser triste a seu contentamento. 
 Mas triste quem de longe quiz ventura 
 Que para respirar lhe falte o vento, 
 E para tudo, em fim, lhe falte o mundo !
 
 SONNETS. 53 
 
 LXXVI. 
 
 Written in prison, at Goa, after his return from China, and 
 after the death of D. Catharina de Athaide. 
 
 f\ H ! but the little bird to accompany, 
 ^-^ That o'er those verdant meadows now hath 
 Who, having lost a joy it called its own, [flown, 
 No longer knows what is felicity ; 
 Oh ! but from those around me now to flee ; 
 My griefs she then might aid me to bemoan, 
 My neighbour and companion she alone, 
 I aiding her, wherein she mourns with me. 
 Blest bird ! to whom, if e'en no second mate 
 Nature will grant the lost one to supply, 
 She grants at least a choice of scene to mourn ; 
 But hapless he whom, far away, his fate 
 Denies e'en air enough to breathe a sigh, 
 Denies, in fine, the world, and leaves forlorn ! 
 
 Naples, July 1880.
 
 54 SONETOS. 
 
 LXXXIV. 
 Lonve da amatite. O que seria se a podcsse ver t 
 
 /'""XNDADOS fios de ouro reluzente, 
 ^~^^ Que agora da mao bella recolhidos, 
 Agora sobre as rosas esparzidos 
 Fazeis que a sua graca se accrescente ; 
 Olhos, que vos moveis t2o docemente, 
 Em mil divinos raios incendidos, 
 Se de ca me levais a alma e sentidos, 
 Que fora, se eu de vds n5o fora ausente ? 
 Honesto riso, que entre a mor fineza 
 De perlas e coraes nasce e apparece ; 
 Oh quern seus doces ecos ja lhe ouvisse ! 
 Se imaginando s6 tanta belleza, 
 De si com nova gloria a alma se esquece, 
 Que serd quando a vir ? Ah quern a visse !
 
 SONNETS. 55 
 
 LXXXIV. 
 
 Far removed from his beloved. What would become of him 
 if she were present ? 
 
 "\7E waving, flowing threads of golden sheen, 
 
 " That now in fairest hand are gathered, 
 Now o'er the roses are dishevelled spread. 
 Making your graces manifold be seen ; 
 Eyes that are moving in such gentle mien, 
 And thousand rays divine illumined shed, 
 If here my soul and sense are captive led, 
 What might have been had I not absent been ? 
 Chaste laugh, that midst the pureness, passing fair, 
 Of pearls and corals springs and brightly flows, 
 Oh ! could I hear its honied harmony : 
 If the mere thought of loveliness so rare 
 The soul with new-felt glory overthrows, 
 What, were all seen : Ah, would that I could see ! 
 
 Lisbon, June i83o.
 
 56 SONETOS. 
 
 LXXXIX. 
 
 A'unca o destino per in itliu que se viudasse a sua sorte adversa. 
 
 N 
 
 O mundo quiz o Tempo que se achasse 
 "* O bem que por acerto, ou sorte vinha : 
 
 E por exprimentar que dita tinha, 
 Quiz que a fortuna em mi se exprimentasse. 
 Mas porque o meu Destino me mostrasse 
 Que nem ter esperancas me convinha, 
 Nunca nesta lao longa vida minha 
 Cousa me deixou ver que desejasse. 
 Mudando andei costume, terra, estado, 
 Por ver se se mudava a sorte dura ; 
 A vida puz nas maos de hum leve lenho. 
 Mas, segundo o que o Ceo me tee mostrado, 
 Ja sei que deste meu buscar ventura 
 Achado tenho ja que nlo a tenho.
 
 SONNETS. 57 
 
 LXXX1X. 
 
 Destiny would never permit his hard lot to change. 
 
 'T^IME in the world at one time was intent 
 * My gifts of chance or certainty to find ; 
 And thus, to experience if my lot was kind, 
 He Fortune asked to make the experiment. 
 But as my Destiny would ne'er consent 
 That hope should e'en be granted to my mind, 
 All through my life so weary, it designed 
 To show me nought whereon my heart was bent. 
 Land, habits, station changing have I gone, 
 To find if Fate obdurate could be changed ; 
 My life I've trusted to a fragile boat ; 
 But after all that Heaven to me hath shown, 
 And having widely after Fortune ranged, 
 I merely have to find I have it not ! 
 
 Dresden, August 30, 1880.
 
 58 SONETOS. 
 
 xc. 
 
 Descrevt' a formosura da sua amante e os effdtos p6de vf-los 
 traduzidos nas penas que Hufaz experimentar. 
 
 A PERFEIQAO, a grasa, o doce geito, 
 "* * A Primavera cheia de frescura, 
 Que sempre em v6s florece ; a que a ventura, 
 E a razao entregaram este peito ; 
 Aquelle crj-stallino e puro aspeito, 
 Que em si comprehende toda a formosura ; 
 O resplandor dos olhos e a brandura, 
 Donde Amor a ninguem quiz ter respeito ; 
 S'isto que em v<5s se ve, ver desejais, 
 Como digno de ver-se claramente, 
 For muito que de Amor vos isentais ; 
 Traduzido o vereis tSo fielmente 
 No meio deste espirito onde estais, 
 Que vendo-vos sintais o que elle sente.
 
 SONNETS. 59 
 
 xc. 
 
 Describes the beauty of his beloved : the effects may be seen in 
 the pains he suffers. 
 
 T)ERFECTION, sweet demeanour, grace divine, 
 The spring all full of freshness, young and green, 
 Which flourishing in thee is ever seen, 
 Where chance and reason did this heart entwine ; 
 That aspect pure of perfect crystalline, 
 Embracing in itself all beauty's sheen, 
 The splendour of the eyes and gentle mien, 
 Whence Love would ne'er towards any one incline : 
 All this, as in thee seen, if thou wouldst see, 
 As something worthy that I should reveal, 
 However far from Love thy bosom be, 
 So faithfully its image will I seal 
 Within this heart whose throne is held by thee, 
 That seeing thyself thou'lt feel what now I feel. 
 
 At sea, from Madeira to Lisbon, July 1880.
 
 6o SONETOS. 
 
 XCIX. 
 
 desptstro da pastora Nise. 
 
 /^\ RAIO crystalline* se estendia 
 ^-^ Por o mundo, da Aurora marchetada, 
 Quando Nise, pastora delicada, 
 Donde a vida deixava se partia. 
 Dos olhos, com que o sol escurecia, 
 I^evando a luz em lagrimas banhada, 
 De si, do fado, e tempo magoada, 
 Pondo os olhos no Ceo, assi dizia : 
 Nasce, sereno sol, puro e luzente ; 
 Resplandece, purpurea e branca aurora, 
 Qualquer alma alegrando descontente ; 
 Que a minha, sabe tu que desde agora 
 Jamais na vida a podes ver contente, 
 Nem t3o triste nenhuma outra pastora.
 
 SONNETS. 61 
 
 xcix. 
 
 The despair of the shepherdess Nise. 
 
 AURORA with her new-born crystal ray 
 "* "*- Arose the enamelled world again to dress, 
 When Nise, fair and gentle shepherdess, 
 Departed whence her only true life lay. 
 The light of eyes that darkened those of day 
 She raised, while flowing anxious tears oppress, 
 Of self, fate, time, all wearied to distress, 
 And gazing heavenward thus did pensive say : 
 Rise, tranquil sun, once more all pure and shining, 
 Clear purple morn with new-born light be clad, 
 And see sad souls with you their grief resigning ; 
 But my poor soul, while others all are glad, 
 Ye know ye ne'er shall see but as repining, 
 Nor any other shepherdess so sad. 
 
 Cairo, February 20, 1880.
 
 62 SONETOS. 
 
 Ao soldado Ruy Dias, natural de Alemquer. 
 
 \T O mundo poucos annos e cansados 
 "** Vivi, cheios de vil miseria e dura 
 
 Foi-me tao cedo a luz do dia escura, 
 Que nao vi cinco lustros acabados. 
 Corri terras e mares apartados, 
 Buscando a vida algum reraedio ou cura : 
 Mas aquillo que, em fim, nao da ventura 
 Nao o dao os trabalhos arriscados. 
 Criou-me Portugal na verde e chara 
 Patria minha Alemquer ; mas ar corruto, 
 Que neste meu terreno vaso tinha, 
 Me fez manjar de peixes em ti, bruto 
 Mar, que bates a Abassia fera e avara, 
 T3o longe da clitosa patria minha.
 
 SONNETS. 63 
 
 c. 
 
 To the soldier Ruy Dias, native of Alemquer. 
 
 f~\ N earth few years and weary did I live, 
 ^^ The fulness of vile misery to endure ; 
 So soon I lost my day of light obscure, 
 I saw not e'en completed lusters five. 
 O'er lands, seas wide apart, 'twas mine to strive, 
 Seeking some remedy for life, some cure ; 
 But that which Fortune will not give, 'tis sure 
 No daring labours can avail to give. 
 In my dear verdant country, Alemquer, 
 Portugal bred me ; but it came to be 
 That air corrupted in this house of clay, 
 Made me the fishes' food in thee, brute sea, 
 Who beatest on Abasia, greedy and bare, 
 From my sweet native land so far away. 
 
 Trieste, August 18S0.
 
 64 SONETOS. 
 
 evil. 
 
 Pede ds Tiigldes que saiam a escular as suas queixas, 
 compadecendo-se dellas. 
 
 TV If ORADORAS gentfs e delicadas 
 "**"* Do claro e aureo Tejo, que metidas 
 Estais em suas grutas escondidas, 
 E com doce repouso socegadas ; 
 Agora estais de amores inflammadas, 
 Nos crystallinos pagos entretidas ; 
 Agora no exercicio embevecidas 
 Das tlas de ouro puro matizadas ; 
 Movei dos lindos rostos a luz pura 
 De vossos olhos bellos, consentindo 
 Que lagrimas derramem de tristura. 
 E assi com dor mais propria ireis ouvindo 
 As queixas que derramo da Ventura, 
 Que com penas de Amor me vai seguindo.
 
 SONNETS. 65 
 
 cvn. 
 
 He prays the nymphs of Tagus to come and listen to his griefs, 
 and compassionate them. 
 
 THvWELLERS, all grace and loveliness, where 
 *-^ flows 
 
 The bright and golden Tagus ; who abide 
 Within your river grottoes, where ye hide, 
 Wrapt in the quietude of sweet repose ; 
 Now love all ardent in your bosoms glows, 
 Within those crystal courts where ye preside ; 
 Now work ye at your subtile webs, all pride, 
 Where gold 'midst thousand tints its brightness 
 
 shows. 
 From those fair brows remove the light so clear 
 That shines from those sweet eyes, and be your will 
 Of sorrowing sympathy to pour the tear ; 
 Thus grief more fitting shall your bosoms fill, 
 The plaints, that I 'gainst Fortune pour, to hear, 
 Who with the pangs of Love pursues me still. 
 
 Vienna, August 1880.
 
 66 SONETOS. 
 
 CVIII. 
 
 Utn adeos ao Tejo, ao partir para a India. 
 
 "|3RANDAS aguas do Tejo que, passando 
 
 "^ Por estes verdes campos que regais, 
 
 Plantas, hervas, e flores, e animais, 
 
 Pastores, nymphas, ides alegrando; 
 
 Nao sei (ah doces dguas !), nao sei quando 
 
 Vos tornarei a ver ; que mdgoas tais, 
 
 Vendo como vos deixo, me causais, 
 
 Que de tornar ja vou desconfiando. 
 
 Ordenou o destino, desejoso 
 
 De converter meus gostos em pesares, 
 
 Partida que me vai custando tanto. 
 
 Saiidoso de vds, delle queixoso, 
 
 Encherei de suspiros outros ares, 
 
 Turbarei outras dguas com meu pranlo.
 
 SONNETS. 67 
 
 CVIII. 
 
 An adieu to Tagus, on leaving for India. 
 
 T T 7ATERS of gentle Tagus, calmly flowing 
 * Through these green fields ye freshen as 
 ye flow, [grow, 
 
 On flocks and herds, plants, flowers, all things that 
 On shepherds and on nymphs delight bestowing ; 
 I know not, ah ! sweet streams, despair of knowing 
 When I shall come again ; for as I go, 
 And ponder why, ye fill me with such woe, 
 That in my heart a deep distrust is growing. 
 The Fates have e'en decreed this sad adieu, 
 Aiming to change my joys into despair, 
 This sad adieu that weighs upon my years : 
 Of them complaining, yearning after you, 
 With sighs I shall invade some distant air, 
 And trouble other waters with my tears. 
 
 Cairo, February 1880.
 
 68 SONETOS. 
 
 cxvm. 
 
 Um conselho gracioso d pastora Nise. 
 
 \T AO vas ao monte, Nise, com teu gado ; 
 
 Que la vi que Cupido te buscava : 
 Por ti somente a todos perguntava, 
 No gesto menos placido que irado. 
 Elle publfca, em fim, que lhe has roubado 
 Os melhores farpoes da sua aljava ; 
 E com hum dardo ardente assegurava 
 Traspassar esse peito delicado. 
 Fuge de ver-te 14 nesta aventura, 
 Porque se contra ti o tens iroso, 
 Pode ser que te alcance com mao dura. 
 Mas ai ! que em vSo te advirto temeroso, 
 Se a" tua incomparavel formosura 
 Se rende o dardo seu mais poderoso !
 
 SONNETS. 69 
 
 CXVIII. 
 
 A playful caution to Nise, fair shepherdess. 
 
 "|~\ ON'T venture, Nise, to the mount to-day, 
 ^~*^ To feed thy flock, for Cupid did I see, 
 Asking and seeking there for only thee, 
 With gesture more in anger than in play. 
 He vows, in truth, that thou hast stolen away 
 The sharpest points that in his quiver be, 
 And doth with burning dart make certainty 
 Deep in thy delicate breast to pierce his way. 
 Be not in such a venture seen, beware, 
 For if his anger 'gainst thee still remain, 
 With cruel hand he may thy bosom tear. 
 But ah ! my timid counsels were in vain, 
 If by thy beauty, all beyond compare, 
 His keenest arrow should itself be ta'en ! 
 
 At sea, from Lisbon to Gibraltar, July i83o.
 
 70 SONETOS. 
 
 cxx. 
 
 Que despojando-se a sua dama de todos os sens ornamentos, 
 i ella so deshumana. 
 
 r I "'ORNAI essa brancura i. alva assucena, 
 
 E essa purpurea cor is puras rosas ; 
 Tornai ao sol as chammas luminosas 
 De essa vista que a roubos vos condena. 
 Tornai a suavissima sirena 
 D'essa voz as cadencias deleitosas : 
 Tornai a gra$a is Gracas, que queixosas 
 Estam de a ter por v<5s menos serena : 
 Tornai & bella Venus a belleza ; 
 A Minerva o saber, o engenho, e a arte ; 
 E a pureza i castissima Diana. 
 Despojai-vos de toda essa grandeza 
 De d5es ; e ficareis em toda parte 
 Comvosco sd, que he sd ser inhumana.
 
 SONNETS. 7i 
 
 cxx. 
 
 That, stripped of all her gifts, she is only a heartless 
 woman. 
 
 f~^ 1VE back that whiteness to the lily white, 
 ^-^^ Give back the roses pure their rosy hue, 
 (jive back the sun those lustrous rays we view 
 In eyes that prove you robber of his light ; 
 Give back the Siren's fascinating might 
 Of vocal cadencies that all subdue ; 
 Grace to the Graces, ill content with you 
 Their gifts to whom have made themselves less 
 To chaste Diana purity resign, [bright ; 
 
 Yield lovely Venus loveliness again, 
 Yield to Minerva wisdom, wit, and art ; 
 Doff all this rich endowment that is thine, 
 And then thyself thou only shalt remain, 
 Which only is a being without heart. 
 
 At sea, from Lisbon to Madeira, June 1880. 
 
 >
 
 72 SONETOS. 
 
 CXXVII. 
 
 Co/no o sol rompe as nuvens, a belleza da sua amante 
 romperd a sua ingraiidio. 
 
 I "* STE terreste caos com seus vapores 
 
 Nao pode condensar as nuvens tanto, 
 Que o claro sol nao rompa o negro manto 
 Com suas bellas e luzentes cores. 
 A ingratidao esquiva de rigores 
 Opposta nuvem he, que dura em quanto 
 Nos nao converte o Ceo em triste pranto 
 Suas vSas esperan9as, seus favores. 
 Pode-se contrapor ao Ceo a terra, 
 E estar o sol por horas eclipsado ; 
 Mas nSo pode ficar escurecido. 
 Pode prevalecer a vossa guerra ; 
 Mas, a pezar das nuvens, declarado 
 Ha de ser vosso sol, e obedecido.
 
 SONNETS. 73 
 
 CXXVII. 
 
 As the sun breaks through the clouds, the beauty of his 
 beloved shall break through her un kindness. 
 
 r I A HIS earthly chaos, with its vaporous air, 
 
 Cannot all things with clouds so dense o'erlay, 
 But that the glowing sun's refulgent ray 
 Can the dark mantle penetrate and tear. 
 Scornful ingratitude, manner severe, 
 Are the obstructing cloud, that can but sway 
 While Heaven forbears to drive vain hopes away, 
 And change its favours into dark despair ; 
 The rolling earth can Heaven in night obscure, 
 The sun may e'en for hours eclipsed remain, 
 But cannot be for ever overlaid ; 
 And so thy warfare may awhile endure, 
 But by and by, in spite of clouds and rain, 
 Thy sun will be declared and be obeyed. 
 
 Dresden, September 1880.
 
 74 SONETOS. 
 
 cxxxn. 
 
 A udaces fortuna juvat. 
 
 \T UNCA em amor damnou o atrevimento 
 
 Favorece a fortuna a ousadia ; 
 Porque sempre a encolhida covardia 
 De pedra serve ao livre pensamento. 
 Quern se eleva ao sublime Firmamento, 
 A estrella nelle encontra, que lhe he guia : 
 Que o bem que encerra em si a phantasia 
 S2o humas illusoes que leva o vento. 
 Abrir-se devem passos a ventura : 
 Sem si proprio ninguem sera ditoso : 
 Os principios sdmente a sorte os move. 
 Atrever-se he valor, e nao loucura. 
 Perdera por covarde o venturoso 
 Que vos v, se os temores nio remove.
 
 SONNETS. 75 
 
 CXXXII. 
 
 That fortune favours the brave in love. 
 
 "NT EVER did love his boldness hurtful find ; 
 "^ Fortune hath ever favours for the bold ; 
 
 For cowardice, that shivers in the cold, 
 Hangs like a stone on freedom of the mind. 
 Who dares the Firmament sublime ascend, 
 Meets there a star, whereby his course is told ; 
 The good mere fancy in its range doth hold 
 Illusive is, soon scattered by the wind. 
 A path for fortune should be opened free ; 
 To none, without himself, will greatness fall ; 
 Chance moving only in first steps appears. 
 To dare is valour, madness 'twill not be ; 
 He to whom fortune shows thee loses all, 
 If, coward like, he doth not scorn his fears. 
 
 Gratz, August iSSo.
 
 76 S0NBT0S. 
 
 cxxxm. 
 
 Ao deixar Coimbra ondeficava o objeclo dos setts amoves. 
 
 T~"\ OCES e claras aguas do Mondego, 
 
 "^^^ Doce repouso de minha lembranca, 
 
 Onde a comprida e perfida esperanca 
 
 Longo tempo apoz si me trouxe cego, 
 
 De vds me aparto, si ; porem Mo nego 
 
 Que inda a longa memoria, que me alcanca, 
 
 Me nao deixa de vds fazer mudanca, 
 
 Mas quanto mais me alongo, mais me achego. 
 
 Bern poderi a Fortuna este instrumento 
 
 Da alma levar por terra nova e estranha, 
 
 Offerecido ao mar remoto, ao vento. 
 
 Mas a alma, que de ci vos acompanha, 
 
 Nas azas do ligeiro pensamento 
 
 Para vds, aguas, voa, e em vds se banha.
 
 SONNETS. 77 
 
 CXXXIII. 
 
 On leaving Coimbra and the object of his love. 
 
 * WEET waters of Mondego's stream refined, 
 ^~^ Of my remembrances the sweet repose, 
 Where hope perfidious and protracted rose, 
 And led me long time, following, all blind : 
 Yes, I depart, but fain must own, my mind 
 Fond memory still o'ertakes, and with me goes. 
 Nor suffers aught of change to interpose ; 
 The farther moved, the more I stay behind. 
 Well may this dwelling of the soul be brought 
 By Fortune to some new and foreign sphere, 
 Committed to the wind and sea remote ; 
 But the fond soul that clings to you from here, 
 Oh ! waters, on the wings of rapid thought 
 Flies to your stream again and bathes it there. 
 
 Cairo, February 1880.
 
 78 SONETOS. 
 
 cxxxvm. 
 
 As frisdes de urn coracao que cunt a ao som dos ferros. 
 
 T)RESENCA bella, angelica figura, 
 
 Em quem quanto o Ceo tinha nos tern dado, 
 Gesto alegre de rosas semeado, 
 Entre as quaes se esta rindo a formosura : 
 Olhos, onde tern feito tal mistura 
 Em crystal puro o negro marchetado, 
 Que vemos ja no verde delicado 
 N2o esperanca, mas inveja escura : 
 Brandura, aviso, e graca, que augmentando 
 A natural belleza co'hum desprezo, 
 Com que mais desprezada mais se augmenta : 
 Sam as prizoes de hum corac3o, que prezo, 
 Seu mal ao som dos ferros vai cantando, 
 Como faz a serea na tormenta
 
 SONNETS. 79 
 
 CXXXVIII. 
 
 The chains of a heart which sings to the sound of the 
 fetters. 
 
 r^AIR presence, figure as an angel's fair, 
 
 Where Heaven hath given us all that is its own, 
 A beaming countenance with roses sown, 
 And, in the cluster, Beauty laughing there ; 
 Eyes with a blended marquetry so rare, 
 In jewelled black and purest whiteness shown, 
 That by the delicate green must now be known 
 Not hope,* but jealousy's forbidding air; 
 Gentleness, sense and grace, that brighter show 
 Their natural beauty by indifference' vein 
 The more the indifference still the more the 
 Are fetters of a heart that, prisoner ta'en, [charm 
 Sings to their iron clank its captive woe, 
 E'en like the mermaid singing to the storm. 
 
 Rome, July i83o. 
 
 * Green, in Portuguese, is the colour for Hope.
 
 8o SONETOS. 
 
 cxxxix. 
 
 Escripto no mar, indo para Goa, dtpois de uma 
 desptdida dolorosa. 
 
 T)OR cima destas aguas forte e firme 
 Irei aonde os Fados o ordenaram, 
 Pois por cima de quantas derramaram 
 Aquelles claros olhos pude vir-me. 
 Ja chegado era o rim de dcspedir-me ; 
 Ja mil impedimentos se acabdram, 
 Quando rios de amor se atravessdram 
 A me impedir o passo de partir-me. 
 Passei-os eu com animo obstinado, 
 Com que a morte forcada gloriosa 
 Faz o vencido ja desesperado. 
 Em qual figura, ou gesto desusado, 
 Pode ja fazer medo a morte irosa 
 A quem te a seus pe's rendido e atado ?
 
 SONNETS. 8 1 
 
 CXXXIX. 
 
 Written at sea, sailing for Goa, after a mournful separation. 
 /^~\ VER these waters firm and strong I'll go, 
 ^-~^ Whither the Fates my passage have ordained, 
 For o'er those waters have I been sustained 
 That poured from those bright eyes with ceaseless 
 The hour had sounded of the parting vow ; [flow. 
 Nought of a thousand hindrances remained, 
 When streams of love my steps would have re- 
 Flowing across my path to bid me no. [strained, 
 I passed them all, with that firm will defied 
 Wherewith, when forced a glorious death to die, 
 The vanquished, all despair, his fate will meet. 
 With what new shape, what gesture yet untried, 
 Can angry death pretend to terrify 
 Whom he holds bound and prostrate at his feet ? 
 
 London, November 1880.
 
 82 SONETOS. 
 
 CXLV. 
 
 Encarece d sua datua a constancies em amal-a. 
 
 QUANDO se vir com agua o fogo arder 
 Juntar-se ao claro dia a noite escura, 
 E a terra collocada la - na altura 
 Em que se vem os ceos prevalecer ; 
 Quando Amor i. Razao obedecer, 
 E em todos for igual huma ventura, 
 Deixarei eu de ver tal formosura, 
 E de a amar deixarei depois de a ver. 
 Porm nao sendo vista esta mudanca 
 No mundo, porque, em fim, nao pode ver-se, 
 Ninguem mudar-me queira de querer-vos. 
 Que basta estar em v6s minha esperanca, 
 E o ganhar-se a minha alma, ou o perder-se, 
 Para dos olhos meus nunca perder-vos.
 
 SONNETS. 83 
 
 w 
 
 CXLV. 
 
 That nothing can change his love, 
 HEN flaming fire with water is allied, 
 
 When brilliant day combines with night 
 obscure, 
 When earth is raised to that high region pure, 
 We see by heaven's blue arc now occupied ; 
 When Love submits to Reason for his guide, 
 When equal Fortune levels rich and poor, 
 I'll leave to gaze upon that cynosure, 
 And, having gazed, leave love and turn aside. 
 But as on earth such change can ne'er be seen, 
 For none can see what Nature doth refuse, 
 So let none seek to change my seeking thee : 
 Enough that all my hopes in thee have been, 
 Whereby my soul must save itself or lose, 
 And never to mine eyes thou lost canst be. 
 
 Jerusalem, March 1880.
 
 84 SONETOS. 
 
 CXLVII. 
 
 O poeia, debaixo do nome do pastor Liso, lanca em rosto d 
 sua Natercia a pouca constancia. 
 
 ATA margem de hum ribeiro, que fendia 
 
 "^ Com liquido crystal hum verde prado, 
 
 O triste pastor Liso debrucado 
 
 Sobre o tronco de hum freixo assi dizia : 
 
 Ah Natercia cruel ! quern te desvia 
 
 Esse cuidado teu do meu cuidado ? 
 
 Se tanto hei de penar desenganado, 
 
 Enganado de ti viver queria. 
 
 Que foi de aquella fe - que tu me de*ste ? 
 
 D'aquelle puro amor que me mostraste ? 
 
 Quem tudo trocar pode tao asinha ? 
 
 Quando esses olhos teus n'outro puzeste, 
 
 Como te n3o lembrou que me juraste 
 
 For toda a sra luz que eras so minha ?
 
 SONNETS. 85 
 
 CXLVII. 
 
 The poet, under the name of Liso, upbraids Natercia 
 for her inconstancy. 
 
 TPON the margin of a stream, whose bed 
 ^-^ With liquid crystal crossed a meadow green, 
 The mournful shepherd Liso there did lean 
 Upon an ashen stem, and thus he said : 
 Ah ! who the cause, Natercia, cruel maid, 
 That our two cares have separated been ? 
 If thus I suffer, undeceived, I ween 
 Better my life deceived by thee were led ! 
 Where is that pledge thou gav'st me day by day ? 
 Where that once perfect love thy bosom showed ? 
 Who could so suddenly change every tone ? 
 When thou didst turn those eyes another way, 
 How didst thou not remember thou hadst vowed 
 By all their light that thou wast mine alone ? 
 
 Cairo, February 1880.
 
 86 SO NEWS. 
 
 CLVIII. 
 
 Despedindo-se das damas de Lisboa, e sigit'Jicando-lhcs 
 a sua saudade. 
 
 I ^ U me aparto de vds, Nymphas do Tejo, 
 ' Quando menos temia esta partida ; 
 E se a minha alma vai entristecida, 
 Nos olhos o vereis com que vos vejo. 
 Pequenas esperan^as, mal sobejo, 
 Vontade que Raz3o leva vencida, 
 Presto verao o fim d triste vida, 
 Se vos n2o torno a ver como desejo. 
 Nunca a noite entretanto, nunca o dia, 
 Verao partir de mi vossa lembrar^a : 
 Amor, que vai comigo, o certifica. 
 Por mais que no tornar haja tardanga, 
 Me farao sempre triste companhia 
 Saudades do bem que em v6s me fica.
 
 SONNETS. 87 
 
 CLVIII. 
 
 A farewell to the ladies of Lisbon, with assurances 0/ his 
 lasting recollections. 
 
 TV fY Nymphs of Tagus, I depart, adieu ! 
 
 <*-*-* E'en now when least I feared this parting's 
 
 And if my soul subdued in sadness go, [blow ; 
 
 Behold it in these eyes beholding you. 
 
 Hopes almost hopeless, sorrows more than due, 
 
 Desires that Reason will not deign to know, 
 
 Will swiftly end this mournful life below, 
 
 If ne'er my longed-for sojourn I renew. 
 
 Ne'er shall the night, meanwhile, ne'er shall the day 
 
 Behold my fond remembrance fail or fade, 
 
 As Love, who travels with me, surely tells : 
 
 How long soe'er return may be delayed, 
 
 Still shall fond thought, sad comrade of my way, 
 
 Muse on your gift of good that inward dwells. 
 
 Jerusalem, March 1880.
 
 88 SONETOS 
 
 CLXI. 
 
 Soliso a la nympha Natercia (Fantastico). 
 
 A LA margen del Tajo, en claro dia, 
 *" ^ Con rayado marfil peinando estaba 
 Natercia sus cabellos, y quitaba 
 Con sus ojos la luz al sol que ardia. 
 Soliso que, cual Clicie, la seguia, 
 Lejos de si, mas cerca della estaba : 
 Al son de su zampona celebraba 
 La causa de su ardor, y asi decia : 
 Si tantas, como tu tienes cabellos, 
 Tuviera vidas yo, me las llevaras 
 Colgada cada cual del uno dellos. 
 De no tenerlas tii me consolaras, 
 Si tantas veces mil, como son ellos, 
 En ellos la que tengo me enredaras.
 
 SONNETS. 89 
 
 CLXI. 
 
 A fanciful address oj one Soliso to Natercia. 
 [IN SPANISH.] 
 
 f~\ N Tagus' margin, in the bloom of day, 
 
 ^- > ^ Combing with ivory comb her lustrous hair, 
 
 Natercia sat, and with those pupils rare 
 
 Subdued the glories of the solar ray. 
 
 Soliso, following her as Clicia, lay 
 
 Far from himself, but to the maiden near, 
 
 And, celebrating to his zampone's air 
 
 The causes of his ardour, thus did say : 
 
 My every life were sacrifice to thee, 
 
 If lives as many as thy hairs were mine; 
 
 On every hair would hang a life of me : 
 
 Not having these, still need I not repine 
 
 If times as thousand as of hairs there be, 
 
 My only life in them thou wouldst entwine. 
 
 Jerusalem, A/arch 1880.
 
 go SONETOS. 
 
 CLXV. 
 
 Endymion ruega al sol que vitelva a ocultarse. 
 
 T~** N una selva al dispuntar del dia 
 "* ' Estaba Endimion triste y lloroso, 
 Vuelto al rayo del sol, que presuroso 
 Por la falda de un monte descendia. 
 Mirando al turbador de su alegn'a, 
 Contrario de su bien y su reposo, 
 Tras un suspiro y otro, congojoso, 
 Razones semejantes le decia : 
 Luz clara, para mf la mas escura, 
 Que con esse paseo apresurado, 
 Mi sol con tu teniebla escureciste ; 
 Si alia pueden moverte en esa altura 
 Las quejas de un pastor enamorado, 
 No tardes en volver d dd saliste.
 
 SONNETS. 91 
 
 CLXV. 
 
 Endymion prays the sun to hide himselj again. 
 
 [IN SPANISH.] 
 
 \T 7ITHIN a forest at the break of day 
 
 " Endymion stood, all sad and lachrymose, 
 
 And turned him toward the sun who hastening rose, 
 And 'twixt a mountain's fringes cast its ray ; 
 Gazing on him who chased his joy away, 
 Unfriendly to his bliss and his repose, 
 Sigh upon sigh he heaved of anxious throes, 
 Gave vent to his complaint, and thus did say : 
 Thou most obscure for me, refulgent light, 
 Who with thy all too hasty course above 
 Hast by thy darkness quite obscured my sun, 
 If aught avail to move thee, in thy height, 
 Complaint of shepherd overwhelmed in love, 
 Haste whence thou earnest, e'er thy course begun. 
 
 Trieste, August 1880.
 
 92 SONETOS. 
 
 CLXIX. 
 
 Descreve os encantos de wn anuno sitio no catnpo. 
 
 /^^AMPO ! nas syrtes deste mar da vida, 
 ^^ Apoz naufragios seus taboa segura ; 
 Claras bonanzas em tormenta escura, 
 Habitacao da paz, de amor guarida ; 
 A ti fujo : e se vence tal fugida, 
 E quem mudou lugar, mudou ventura, 
 Cantemos a victoria ; e na espessura 
 Triumphe a honra da ambic^o vencida. 
 Em flor e fructo de verao e outono ; 
 Utilmente murmuram claras agoas ; 
 Alegre me acha aqui, me deixa o dia. 
 Amantes rouxinoes rompem-me o sono 
 Que ata o descanso : aqui sepulto magoas 
 Que ja foram sepulcros de alegria.
 
 SONNETS. 93 
 
 CLXIX. 
 
 Describes the charms of a pleasant dwelling in the country. 
 
 (~~* OUNTRY ! when quicksands in this life's sea 
 ^ y loom, 
 
 And after shipwreck, our true raft secure, 
 Thou calm unclouded after storm obscure, 
 Of love the refuge and of peace the home, 
 To thee I fly ; and if such flight o'ercome, 
 If change of place make change of fortune sure, 
 We'll victory sing, and in the forest hoar, 
 Honour shall triumph o'er ambition's tomb. 
 Here summer's flowers, here autumn's fruits are 
 And usefully the glittering waters glide ; [blest, 
 Day comes and goes with nothing to annoy : 
 Here amorous nightingales invade the rest 
 That sleeps off care ; and buried here I hide 
 Griefs that of old were sepulchres of joy. 
 
 Cairo, February 1880.
 
 94 SONETOS. 
 
 CLXXIII. 
 
 Neste Undo soneto Ionio pede as ondas do mar que Ihe restituam 
 a sua amanle, que morreo nelle afogada. 
 
 f~\ CEO, a terra, o vento socegado, 
 ^-^^ As ondas que se estendem por a areia, 
 Os peixes que no mar o somno enfreia, 
 O nocturno silencio repousado ; 
 O pescador Aonio que, deitado 
 Onde co' o vento a agoa se meneia, 
 Chorando, o nome amado em vao nomeia, 
 Que nao p<5de ser mais que nomeado ; 
 Ondas (dizia) antes que Amor me mate, 
 Tornae-me a minha Nympha, que tao cedo 
 Me fizestes a morte estar sujeita ! 
 Ninguem responde ; o mar de longe bate ; 
 Move-se brandamente o arvoredo ; 
 I^eva-lhe o vento a voz qu'ao vento deita.
 
 SONNETS. 95 
 
 CLXXIII. 
 
 In this beautiful sonnet Ionio calls on the waves to restore 
 to him his drowned love. 
 
 \ LL hushed the heaven and earth, and wind 
 the same, 
 The waves all spreading o'er the sandy plain, 
 While sleep doth in the sea the fish enchain, 
 Nocturnal silence brooding as a dream ; 
 Prostrate with love, Ionio, fisher, came 
 Where the breeze moved the waters of the main ; 
 Weeping, the well-loved name he called in vain, 
 That can no more be called but as a name ; 
 Oh ! waves, or ere love slay me, thus he cried, 
 Restore to me my Nymph who, ah ! so soon, 
 Ye taught my soul was subject to the grave. 
 No one replies ; from far beats ocean's tide ; 
 All softly moves the grove ; and the wind's moan 
 Bears off the voice that to the wind he gave. 
 
 Cairo, February 1880.
 
 96 SONETOS. 
 
 CLXXX. 
 
 Relativo aos seus amores infelizes. 
 
 T TORAS breves de meu contentamento, 
 
 Nunca me pareceo, quando vos tinha, 
 Que vos visse mudadas tao asinha 
 Em tao compridos annos de tormento. 
 As altas torres, que fundei no vento, 
 Levou, em fim, o vento que as sostinha : 
 Do mal, que me ficou, a culpa he minha, 
 Pois sobre cousas vaas flz fundamento. 
 Amor com brandas mostras apparece, 
 Tudo possivel faz, tudo assegura ; 
 Mas logo no melhor desapparece. 
 Estranho mal ! estranha desventura ! 
 Por hum pequeno bem que desfallece, 
 Hum bem aventurar, que sempre dura !
 
 SONNETS. 97 
 
 CLXXX. 
 
 In reference to his unhappy attachments. 
 
 SHORT hours, with whom contentment I could 
 find, 
 I ne'er believed, while 'midst your smiles I lay, 
 How swift your change might prove, how short 
 
 your stay, 
 Leaving such years prolonged of pain behind. 
 The lofty towers I founded on the wind, 
 The wind, they rested on, hath blown away : 
 Mine is the fault for all this evil day, 
 For ah ! on empty things I set my mind. 
 Love first appeareth in persuasive guise, 
 Showing all possible, and all as sure, 
 But presently, while smiling most, he flies. 
 Strange evil ! strange ill fate that can allure ! 
 For a small good that so maturely dies 
 To risk a good that might for aye endure i 
 
 Lisbon, June i83o.
 
 98 SONETOS. 
 
 CLXXXIII. 
 
 CEPHALO E PROCRIS. 
 
 T) OB- sua nympha Ce*phalo deixava 
 * A Aurora, que por elle se perdia, 
 Postoque d principio ao claro dia, 
 Postoque as roxas flores imitava. 
 Elle, que a bella Procris tanto amava, 
 Que s6 por ella tudo engeitaria, 
 Deseja de tentar se lhe acharia 
 T2o firme (6, como ella nelle achava. 
 Mudado o trage, tece hum duro engano ; 
 Outro se finge, preco poe diante ; 
 Quebra-se a (6 mudavel, e consente. 
 Oh subtil invencao para seu dano ! 
 Vede que manhas busca hum cego amante 
 Para que sempre seja descontente !
 
 SONNETS. 99 
 
 CLXXXIII. 
 
 CEP H ALUS AND PROCRIS. 
 
 /'""^EPHALUS for his nymph had cast aside 
 ^"^ Aurora, though her heart he'd charmed away, 
 
 Though she gave birth unto the brilliant day, 
 
 And though with all the purple flowers she vied. 
 
 He, who the Procris fair so deified 
 
 That everything for her he would betray, 
 
 Resolved to try, if in her bosom lay 
 
 Fidelity as firm as his, if tried. 
 
 Robed in disguise, he weaves the harsh device, 
 
 Another lover feigns before her eye; 
 
 The fickle faith is broken, yields consent ; 
 
 Oh ! stratagem to his own prejudice ; 
 
 Behold what arts a lover blind will try, 
 
 To be for ever breeding discontent ! 
 
 Off Madeira to Lisbon, July 1880.
 
 SONETOS. 
 
 CLXXXIV. 
 PROCRIS E CEPHALO. 
 
 O ENTINDO-SE alcan9ada a bella esposa 
 ^"^ De Cephalo no crime consentido, 
 Para os montes fugia do marido ; 
 E nlo sei se de astuta, ou vergonhosa. 
 Porque elle, em fim, soffrendo a dor ciosa, 
 Da cegueira obrigado de Cupido, 
 Apoz ella se vai como perdido, 
 Ja perdoando a culpa criminosa. 
 Deita-se aos ps da nympha endurecida, 
 Que do cioso engano esti aggravada ; 
 Ja lhe pede perdao, ja pede a vida. 
 Oh forca d'affeicao desatinada ! 
 Que da culpa contr'elle commettida, 
 Perdao pedia i parte que he culpada !
 
 SONNETS. 101 
 
 CLXXXIV. 
 
 PROCRIS AND CEPHALUS. 
 
 "X TOW when the lovely spouse of Cephalus 
 
 ~*~ knows 
 
 Her yielding crime before her husband lies, 
 
 Forth to the mountain solitudes she flies ; 
 
 I know not if from craft or shame she goes : 
 
 Then he, still suffering all his jealous throes, 
 
 Love-blinded, hurried on by ecstasies, 
 
 Like one all lost, upon her footsteps hies, 
 
 And eager pardon on her crime bestows. 
 
 He flings himself the obdurate nymph before, 
 
 Aggrieved that he such jealous snare should lay, 
 
 To implore her pardon, nay, his life implore : 
 
 Oh ! force of love, such madness to display: 
 
 He who hath suffered an offence so sore 
 
 Doth now his pardon of the offender pray ! 
 
 Off Madeira to Lisbon, July 1880.
 
 io2 SONETOS. 
 
 CLXXXVI. 
 
 --/ unia datna que morreu de intra idade, sendo ella talvez 
 D. Catharina de Athaide. 
 
 /^\ S olhos onde o casto Amor ardia, 
 ^-^^ Ledo de se ver nelles abrazado ; 
 O rosto onde com lustre desusado 
 Purpurea rosa sobre neve ardia ; 
 O cabello, que inveja ao sol fazia, 
 Porque fazia o seu menos dourado ; 
 A branca mio, o corpo bem talhado, 
 Tudo aqui se reduz a terra fria. 
 Perfeita formosura em tenra idade, 
 Qual flor, que antecipada foi colhida, 
 Murchada esti da mLo da morte dura. 
 Como nao morre Amor de piedade ? 
 Nao della, que se foi d clara vida ; 
 Mas de si, que ficou em noute escura.
 
 SONNETS. 103 
 
 CLXXXVI. 
 
 On the death of a young lady; supposed to refer to 
 D. Catharina de Athaide. 
 
 '"T^HE eyes where love in chastest fire would 
 
 glow, 
 Joying to be consumed amidst their light, 
 The face whereon with wondrous lustre bright 
 The purple rose was blushing o'er the snow ; 
 The hair whereof the sun would envious grow, 
 It made his own less golden to the sight, 
 The well-formed body and the hand so white, 
 All to cold earth reduced lies here below ! 
 In tender age, a beauty all entire, 
 E'en like a blossom gathered ere its time, 
 Lies withered in the hand of heartless death : 
 How doth not Love for pity's sake expire ? 
 Ah ! not for her who flies to life sublime, 
 But for himself whom night extinguisheth. 
 Cairo, February j8So.
 
 io4 SONETOS. 
 
 CXCII. 
 
 A Estacio de Faria, avd de Manuel de Faria e Soma : 
 Guerreiro e Poeta. 
 
 A GORA toma a espada, agora a penna, 
 Estacio nosso, em ambas celebrado, 
 Sendo, ou no salso mar de Marte amado, 
 Ou n'agua doce amante da Camena. 
 Cysne sonoro por ribeira amena 
 De mi para cantar-te he cobicado ; 
 Porque n3o podes tu ser bem cantado 
 De ruda frauta, nem de agreste avena. 
 Se eu, que a penna tomei, tomei a espada, 
 Para poder jogar licenca tenho 
 Desta alta influi'cao de dous planetas ; 
 Com huma e outra luz delles lograda, 
 Tu com pujante braco, ardente engenho, 
 Serds pharo a Soldados e a Poetas.
 
 SONNETS. 105 
 
 CXCII. 
 
 To the Portuguese warrior and poet, Eustacio de Faria, 
 grandfather of Manuel de Faria e Sousa, the commentator. 
 
 TV TOW in his hand the sword, and now the pen 
 * Our Eustace holds, in both renowned he, 
 
 Beloved by Mars upon the briny sea, 
 Loving, on waters sweet, the Muse amene. 
 The swan sonorous on the margins green 
 To sing thy name is coveted by me ; 
 For duly thou canst ne'er resounded be, 
 By common flute, or pipe of rustic strain. 
 If I, who took the pen, now took the sword, 
 To play such part my title I should find, 
 In this high influence of two Stars divine : 
 Fired by the double light that they afford, 
 Thou shalt with powerful arm and ardent mind, 
 The Soldiers' and the Poets' pharos shine. 
 
 Trieste, August 1880.
 
 io6 SONETOS. 
 
 cxcv. 
 
 Uma allegoria do csiado de desordem etn que part ce que 
 achou a sua patria. 
 
 /^*ORREM turbas as aguas deste rio, 
 ^"^ Que as do ceo e as do monte as enturbdram ; 
 Os florecidos campos se seccaram ; 
 Intratavel se fez o valle e frio. 
 Passou, como o verao, o ardente estio ; 
 Humas cousas por outras sc trociram : 
 Os fementidos fados ja deixiram 
 Do mundo o regimento, ou desvario. 
 Ja o tempo a ordem sua tee sabida; 
 O mundo nao ; mas anda tao confuso, 
 Que parece que delle Deos se esquece. 
 Casos, opinioes, natura, e uso, 
 Fazem que nos pareca desta vida 
 Que nao ha nclla mais do que parece.
 
 SONNETS. 107 
 
 cxcv. 
 
 An allegory illustrating the disordered state in -which the poet 
 appears to have found his country. 
 
 'HT^HE waters of this river turbid flow, 
 
 * Disturbed by those of mountain and of sky ; 
 The verdant meadows all are parched and dry, 
 In the cold valley nothing now will grow. 
 Past is the summer and its ardent glow ; 
 Some things for other things are all gone by ; 
 The treacherous fates have ceased their perfidy 
 In the world's craziness or rule to show. 
 Time hath its order regularly known, 
 Not so the world, which so confused doth roll, 
 That God thereof would all forgetful seem : 
 Nature, opinions, use, events, the whole 
 Combine to make us feel the life we own 
 Is really nothing other than a dream. 
 
 Off Madeira to Lisbon, July 1880.
 
 io8 SONETOS. 
 
 ccm. 
 
 A umas senhoras, talvez do Pafo, que habitavam alguma 
 quinta do campo. 
 
 T~\E frescas belvederes rodeadas 
 ^-"^ Estam as puras aguas desta fonte \ 
 Formosas nymphas lhes estao defronte, 
 A veneer e a matar acostumadas. 
 Andam contra Cupido levantadas 
 As suas gra9as, que n2o ha quem conte : 
 D'outro valle esquecidas, d'outro monte, 
 A vida passam neste socegadas. 
 O seu poder juntou, sua valia 
 Amor, ja nSo soffrendo este desprezo, 
 Sdmente por se vr dellas vingado ; 
 Mas, vendo-as, entendeo que nao podia 
 De ser morto livrar-se, ou de ser prezo, 
 E ficou-se com ellas desarmado.
 
 SONNETS. 109 
 
 CCIII. 
 
 In honour of some fair ladies, perhaps of the Court, who 
 were living in some country house and garden. 
 
 T) Y landscape-scenes surrounded, fresh and gay, 
 -*^ Lie the pure waters of this purest fount ; 
 Whose margins lovely nymphs to court are wont, 
 Accustomed or to conquer or to slay. 
 'Gainst Cupid, all rebellious, they display 
 Graces no mortal ere availed to count ; 
 Forgetting other valley, other mount, 
 All calmly here they pass their life away. 
 Love summoned all his power and valiant mood, 
 Resolved no longer to endure this slight, 
 And that on all his vengeance should be dealt. 
 But, seeing them, he quickly understood 
 That death or prison must reward his fight, 
 And thus among them, all disarmed, he dwelt. 
 
 Cairo, February 1880.
 
 SONETOS. 
 
 CCXXVII. 
 
 Ao Duque de Bragan$a, D. Theodosio. 
 
 T EVANTAI, minhas Tagides, a frente, 
 
 "* 4 Deixando o Tejo as sombras nemorosas ; 
 
 Dourai o valle umbroso, as frescas rosas, 
 
 E o monte com as arvores frondente. 
 
 Fique de vds hum pouco o rio ausente, 
 
 Cessem agora as lyras numerosas, 
 
 Cesse vosso lavor, nymphas formosas, 
 
 Cesse da fonte vossa a gni corrente. 
 
 Vinde a ver a Theodosio grande e claro, 
 
 A quern 'sti. offerecendo maior canto 
 
 Na cithara dourada o louro Apollo. 
 
 Minerva do saber da-lhe o dom raro, 
 
 Pallas lhe da o valor de mais espanto, 
 
 E a Fama o leva ja de polo a polo.
 
 SONNETS. m 
 
 CCXXVII. 
 
 To the Duke of Braganca, Dom Theodosio. 
 
 I ~* XALT on high your brow, my Tagides, [flow, 
 ' Leave Tagus through his sylvan shades to 
 Gild the cool vales where fresh blown roses glow, 
 And mountain verdant with o'ershadowing trees. 
 Let one short absence from your river please ; 
 Consent, ye lovely nymphs, aside to throw 
 Your numerous lyres, for once your toils forego, 
 Let the great current of your fountain cease. 
 Come see great Theodosius, warrior fair, 
 To whom upon his golden lyre of praise 
 Flaxen Apollo proffers music's soul. 
 Minerva grants him gift of wisdom rare, 
 Pallas gives valour, more than to amaze, 
 And Fame his glory blows from pole to pole. 
 
 Suez, March 1880.
 
 ii2 SONETOS. 
 
 ccxxx. 
 
 A morte cU uma senhora, falltcida naflor dos amios. 
 
 T~\ EBAIXO desta pedra sepultada 
 
 "*~^ Jaz do mundo a mais nobre formosura, 
 
 A quem a morte, so de inveja pura, 
 
 Sem tempo sua vida tee roubada, 
 
 Sem ter respeito aquella assi estremada 
 
 Gentileza de luz, que a noite escura 
 
 Tornava em claro dia ; cuja alvura 
 
 Do sol a clara luz tinha eclipsada. 
 
 Do sol peitada foste, cruel morte, 
 
 Para o livrar de quem o escurecia ; 
 
 E da lua, que ante ella luz nao tinha, 
 
 Como de tal poder tiveste sorte ? 
 
 E se a tiveite, como tao asinha 
 
 Tornaste a luz do mundo em terra fria ?
 
 SONNETS. 113 
 
 ccxxx. 
 
 On the death of a lady in the flower of youth. 
 
 T) ENEATH this monumental stone enshrined, 
 *-* There lies this world's most noble cynosure, 
 Whom death of sheerest envy did immure, 
 Stealing the life, untimely and unkind ; 
 According no respect to that refined 
 Sweetness of light, which e'en the night obscure 
 Turned to clear day, and whose refulgence pure 
 The brightness of the sun left far behind. 
 Thou cruel Death, wast bribed by the sun, 
 To save his beams from hers who brighter burned. 
 And by the moon, that faded quite away. 
 How earnest thou such mighty power to own ? 
 And owning it, why hast so quickly turned 
 The great light of the world to this cold clay? 
 
 Cairo, February 1880. 
 
 H
 
 H4 SONETOS. 
 
 CCXLVII. 
 
 A doisjovensesposos,falkcidosjunlamente, e que tnuito 
 se amavam. 
 
 T^\ITOSAS almas, que ambas juntamente 
 ^~*^ Ao ceo de Venus e de Amor voastes, 
 Onde hum bem que tao breve cd lograstes, 
 Estais logrando agora eternamente ; 
 Aquelle estado vosso tao contente, 
 Que so por durar pouco triste achastes, 
 Por outro mais contente ja o trocastes, 
 Onde sem sobresalto o bem se sente. 
 Triste de quern cd vive tao cercado, 
 Na amorosa fineza, de hum tormento 
 Que a gloria lhe perturba mais crescida ! 
 Triste, pois me nao val o soffrimento, 
 E Amor para mais damno me tee dado 
 Para tao duro mal tao larga vida !
 
 SONNETS. 115 
 
 CCXLVII. 
 
 On the death of a young married couple, who fondly loved 
 one another. 
 
 IT) LEST souls, who hand in hand from here below 
 
 ~*-^ Have to the heaven of Love and Venus flown, 
 
 Where blessing which so brief ye here had known 
 
 Ye now for all eternity shall know ; 
 
 Those hours that in such happiness would flow, 
 
 Sad only that for so short time they shone, 
 
 Ye've changed for others of a happier tone, 
 
 Where blessings dwell and fear no sudden blow. 
 
 Unhappy, who on earth lives so beset, 
 
 In Love's keen contest, by tormenting pain, 
 
 That glory more perturbs him as it grows ! 
 
 Unhappy, for I nought by suffering gain, 
 
 And Love, to turn my anguish keener yet, 
 
 For ill so harsh a life so long bestows. 
 
 Dresden, August 1880.
 
 u6 SONETOS. 
 
 CCLIV. 
 
 Uma dama gentil em uma lapa tenebrosa inveja o lugar 
 para ali sejuntarem dots amantes. 
 
 T~^ M huma lapa toda tenebrosa, 
 
 * ' Adonde bate o mar com furia brava, 
 
 Sobre hUa mSo o rosto, vi qu'estava 
 
 Huma nympha gentil, mas cuidadosa. 
 
 Igualmente que linda, lastimosa, 
 
 Aljofar dos seus olhos distillava ; 
 
 O mar os seus furores applacava 
 
 Com ver cousa tHo triste e tao formosa. 
 
 Alguma vez na horrivel penedia 
 
 Os bellos olhos punha com brandura, 
 
 Bastante a desfazer sua dureza. 
 
 Com angelica voz assi dizia : 
 
 Ah ! que falte mais vezes a ventura 
 
 Onde sobeja mais a natureza !
 
 SONNETS. 117 
 
 CCLIV. 
 
 A fair damsel in a dark cave longs for it as a spot for the 
 meeting of lovers. 
 
 \~X 7ITHIN an ocean grotto, dark and bare, 
 
 The waves all beating round in anger rude, 
 Leaning her brow upon her hand, I viewed 
 A nymph all gentle, but all full of care. 
 Of aspect piteous, as of beauty rare, 
 A shower of seed-pearls from her eyes was strewed ; 
 Ocean its tempest and its rage subdued 
 To see a thing so mournful and so fair. 
 From time to time, upon the rocks beside 
 She cast so soft a gaze from lovely eyes, 
 That e'en their very harshness might relent ; 
 And thus with voice angelical she cried : 
 Ah ! me, 'tis ever so : chance least replies 
 Where Nature doth the most the scene present. 
 
 Cairo, February 1880,
 
 u8 SONETOS. 
 
 CCLVII. 
 Compara-sc com uma borboleta, que volteia entorno da vile. 
 
 QUAL t5e a borboleta por costume, 
 Qu'enlevada na luz da acesa vella, 
 Dando vai voltas rail, ate* que nella 
 Se queima agora, agora se consume : 
 Tal eu correndo vou ao vivo lume 
 D'esses olhos gentis, Aonia bella ; 
 E abrazo-me, por mais que com cautella 
 Livrar-me a parte racional presume. 
 Conheco o muito a que se atreve a vista, 
 O quanto se levanta o pensamento, 
 O como vou morrendo claramente ; 
 Porem nao quer Amor que lhe resista, 
 Nem a minh'alma o quer ; qu'em tal torraento, 
 Qual em gloria maior estd contente.
 
 SONNETS. 119 
 
 CCLVII. 
 
 Compares himself to a moth fluttering round thefiame. 
 
 I "* 'EN as the butterfly that courts its doom, 
 ' While round the taper's light it spell-bound 
 Fluttering in thousand circles till it dies [flies, 
 
 In flame that now doth burn, and now consume ; 
 E'en so I flutter round the living bloom, 
 My fair Aonia, of those beaming eyes, 
 And burn me there, while all my wisdom lies, 
 In striving to deliver me, o'ercome. 
 Full well I know how boldly sight will dare, 
 To how great altitude Love's thoughts attain, 
 And that I flutter round the flame of death ; 
 But Love in nowise will resistance bear, 
 Nor would my heart contend : but this great pain 
 E'en as more glorious calmly suflereth. 
 
 Port Said, March 1880.
 
 i2o SONETOS. 
 
 CCLXXI. 
 
 Todos os attractivos e encantos da natureza, iudo o enoja 
 longe da sua amante. 
 
 A FORMOSURA desta fresca serra, 
 * * E a sombra dos verdes castanheiros, 
 O manso caminhar destes ribeiros, 
 Donde toda a tristeza se desterra ; 
 O rouco som do mar, a estranha terra, 
 O esconder do sol pelos outeiros, 
 O recolher dos gados derradeiros, 
 Das nuvens pelo ar a branda guerra : 
 Em fim, tudo o que a rara natureza 
 Com tanta variedade nos offrece, 
 M'esta" (se n2o te vejo) magoando. 
 Sem ti tudo me enoja, e me aborrece ; 
 Sem ti perpetuamente estou passando 
 Nas mores alegrias mdr tristeza.
 
 SONNETS. i2i 
 
 CCLXXI. 
 
 The sweetest scenes will even offend in t)ie absence of 
 the one beloved. 
 
 '~T"*HE beauty of these mountains, fresh as day, 
 * The spreading shade these chesnuts green 
 The meadow-rivers with their gentle flow, [bestow, 
 Whence sadness all is banished far away ; 
 The sea's hoarse murmur and the landscape gay, 
 The setting sun that sinks the hills below, 
 The cattle gathered, loitering as they go, 
 Clouds that in air in gentle warfare play ; 
 Nay all the charms that nature, e'en most rare, 
 In such variety for eye can spread, 
 Are anguish mere, if I behold not thee ; 
 Without thee all are wearisome despair, 
 Without thee ever round me is there shed 
 In chiefest joys the chiefest misery. 
 
 Suez, March 1880.
 
 122 SONETOS. 
 
 CCLXXIX. 
 
 Urn certo pastor segue uma nympha em v&o. 
 
 T NDO o triste pastor todo embebido 
 
 Na sombra de seu doce pensamento, 
 Taes queixas espalhava ao leve vento, 
 Co'hum brando suspirar d'alma sahido : 
 A quern me queixarei, cego, perdido, 
 Pois nas pedras n2o acho sentimento ? 
 Cora quern fallo ? A quern digo meu tormento ? 
 Que onde mais chamo, sou menos ouvido. 
 O bella nympha, porque n5o respondes ? 
 Porque o olhar-me tanto m'encareces ? 
 Porque queres que sempre me querelle ? 
 Eu quanto mais te busco, mais te escondes ! 
 Quanto mais mal me ves, mais te endureces ! 
 Assim que co'o mal cresce a causa delle.
 
 SONNETS. 123 
 
 CCLXXIX. 
 
 A shepherd follows a nymph in vain. 
 
 ALL sorrowful as strayed the shepherd swain, 
 Deep in the gentle shades of pensive mind, 
 These griefs he spread before the breathing wind, 
 With longing sighs, as from a soul in pain ; 
 Oh ! blind and lost, to whom shall I complain ? 
 For in these stones no sympathy I find : 
 Whom speak, to hearken my distress inclined ? 
 Where most I call, there most I call in vain : 
 Oh ! lovely nymph, why dost not answer me ? 
 Why hold so dear the look that I implore ? 
 Why wiliest my complaints should ever flow ? 
 The more I seek the more thou hidest thee, 
 Still harder, as thou see'st I suffer more ; 
 Thus, as my sufferings, so their causes grow. 
 
 At sea, Gibraltar to Malta (Mongolia), July 1880.
 
 124 SONETOS. 
 
 CCLXXXVIII. 
 
 Sonhando com a sua amada : feliz em sonhos, mofino 
 nas verdades. 
 
 TTAOCE sonho, suave e soberano, 
 "^^^ Se por mais longo tempo me durara ! 
 Ah quern de sonho tal nunca acordara, 
 Pois havia de ver tal desengano ! 
 Ah deleitoso bem ! ah doce engano ! 
 Se por mais largo espaco me enganara ! 
 Se entao a vida misera acabdra, 
 De alegria e prazer morrera ufano. 
 Ditoso, nSo estando em mi, pois tive 
 Dormindo o que acordado ter quizera. 
 Olhae com que me paga meu destino ! 
 Em fim, fora de mi ditoso estive. 
 Em mentiras ter dita razao era, 
 Pois sempre nas verdades fui mofino.
 
 SONNETS. 125 
 
 CCLXXXVIII. 
 
 Dreaming of his beloved: happy in dreams, deceived 
 in realities. 
 
 QWEET dream, so soothing, and so passing 
 ^^ Why not a little longer time remain ! [sweet, 
 Ah ! could I from such dream ne'er wake again, 
 To suffer such dispersion of the cheat. 
 Ah ! thou delightful bliss, thou soft deceit, 
 Had I deceived a little longer lain ; 
 Or had I closed in thee this life of pain, 
 Then had I died, e'en boasting joy complete. 
 Happy when not myself, holding in sleep 
 That which, awake, I gladly had possessed ; 
 Behold how by my fate I am aggrieved ! 
 When not myself my happiness I keep ; 
 Reason indeed in falsehood to feel blest, 
 In that by truths I ever was deceived ! 
 
 Lisbon, July 1880.
 
 126 SONETOS. 
 
 ccxcn. 
 
 Venus chasqueia Diana, ao que esta responde. 
 
 I "* M quanto Phebo os montes accendia 
 ' Do Ceo com luminosa claridade, 
 For conservar illesa a castidade 
 Na cac,a o tempo Delia dispendia. 
 Venus, qu'entao de furto descendia 
 Por captivar de Anchises a vontade, 
 Vendo Diana em tanta honestidade, 
 Quasi zombando della, Ihe dizia : 
 Tu vds com tuas redes na espessura 
 Os fugitivos cervos enredando ; 
 Mas as minhas enred3o o sentido. 
 Melhor he (respondia a deosa pura) 
 Nas redes leves cervos ir tomando, 
 Que tomar-te a ti nellas teu marido.
 
 SONNETS. 127 
 
 w 
 
 CCXCII. 
 
 Venus banters Diana, who pays her back. 
 
 HILE Phoebus o'er the mountains lustre 
 shed, 
 
 With all the lucid clearness of the sky, 
 Preserving her unblemished chastity, 
 Delia to spend her time in hunting sped. 
 Venus descending, mischief in her head, 
 The conquest of Anchises' will to try, 
 Seeing Diana sport so honestly, 
 Half joking her, thus impudently said: 
 Thou goest snaring in the woods in haste, 
 The flying stags in nets to captive make, 
 But mine the very feelings can ensnare 
 'Tis better far, replied the goddess chaste, 
 In woods the flying stags in nets to take, 
 Than by your husband to be netted there. 
 
 Suez, March 1880.
 
 128 SONETOS. 
 
 CCCIII. 
 
 For occasiao de ter visto pela primeira vez D. Catharina de 
 Athaide, na Igreja, em Sexta Feira de Fatxdo, e namo- 
 rando-se della. 
 
 nr^ODAS as almas, tristes, se mostravam 
 
 Pela piedade do Feitor Divino, 
 Onde ante o seu aspecto tao benigno 
 O devido tributo lhe pagavam : 
 Meus sentidos entao, livres estavam, 
 Que ate hi foi constante o seu destino ; 
 Quando huns olhos de que eu nao era dino 
 A furto da razao me salteavam : 
 A nova vista me cegou de todo, 
 Naceo do descostume a estranheza 
 Da suave e angelica presence 
 Para remediar-me no ha ai ! modo ? 
 Oh porque fez a humana natureza 
 Entre os nascidos tanta differenca !
 
 SONNETS. 129 
 
 CCCIII. 
 
 On the occasion of his first seeing D. Catharina de Athaide 
 in church on Good Friday, and losing his heart. 
 
 r I V HE souls of all were sad in solemn prayer, 
 A Owning the mercy of their Lord Divine, 
 While in His holy presence so benign, 
 The tribute that was due they offered there : 
 My heart till then was free from every care, 
 Till then my fate had traced an equal line, 
 When lo ! some eyes, too high and pure for mine, 
 Assaulted all my reason, unaware. 
 The novel vision struck me wholly blind ; 
 From strangeness sprang the magic charm displayed 
 By that soft presence, all angelical. 
 And can I no alleviation find ? 
 Oh ! why in births hath Human Nature made 
 Difference so great, and we her children all ! 
 
 From Bo-ogna to Ferrara, July 18S0.
 
 i 3 o SONETOS. 
 
 CCCIX. 
 
 Dncrevt um passeio no Tejo de umas fomwsas damns, pedindo- 
 Ihes que sejam intercessoras para com a sua amante. 
 
 "P7 M hum batel que com doce meneio 
 ' O aurifero Tejo dividia, 
 Vi bellas damas, ou melhor diria, 
 Bellas estrellas e hum sol no meio. 
 As delicadas filhas de Nereo, 
 Com mil vozes de doce armonia, 
 Hiao remando a bella companhia, 
 Que (se eu nao erro) por honrala veio. 
 6 formosas Nereidas, que cantando 
 Lograis aquella vista tao serena, 
 Que a vida em tantos males quer trazer-me, 
 Dizei-lhe, que olhe que se vai passando 
 O curto tempo ; e a tao longa pena 
 O tempo he prompto mas a came enfrrma.
 
 SONNETS. 131 
 
 cccix. 
 
 Describes a fancy scene on the Jagits. Begs of the ladies to 
 intercede with his beloved. 
 
 TNa light barque, that gliding sweetly on 
 
 Parted gold-bearing Tagus' stream in glee, 
 I saw fair dames, nay, rather did I see 
 Beautiful stars, and in their midst a Sun. 
 Nereus' soft daughters, who had with her gone, 
 With thousand voices of sweet harmony 
 Were rowing all the beauteous galaxy, 
 Who came, I ween, to honour her alone. 
 Oh ! lovely Nereids, singing lovely lay, 
 Who now enjoy that vision so serene, 
 Since life to lead me through such ills doth seek, 
 Tell her to bear in mind how runs away 
 Our time so short ; and that for such long pain 
 The time is willing but the flesh is weak. 
 
 Suez, March 1880.
 
 1 32 SONETOS. 
 
 cccxiv. 
 
 A uma dama voluvel : que dispensa o sen agrado a todos. 
 
 O E a ninguem tratais com desamor, 
 
 *^ Antes a todos tendes affeicao, 
 
 E se a todos mostrais hum corac2o 
 
 Cheio de mansidao, cheio d'amor ; 
 
 Desde hoje me tratai com desfavor, 
 
 Mostrai-me hum odio esquivo, huma isencao ; 
 
 Poderei acabar de crer entSo, 
 
 Que t3o somente a mim me dais favor. 
 
 Que se tratais a todos brandamente, 
 
 Claro he que aquelle he sd favorecido 
 
 A quern mostrais irado o continente. 
 
 Mai poderei eu ser de vds querido, 
 
 Se tendes outro amor n'alma presente, 
 
 Que Amor he hum, n5o pode ser partido.
 
 SONNETS. 133 
 
 CCCXIV. 
 
 Begs signs of disfavour from one who is equally 
 pleasant to all. 
 
 T F thou indifference wilt display to none, 
 
 Rather towards every one endearing art, 
 If thou towards every one dost show a heart, 
 That fullest love and gentleness doth own, 
 Henceforth towards me be thy disfavour shown ; 
 In odious scorn or coldness stand apart ; 
 Then shall I come to think, beneath the smart, 
 Thou showest favour unto me alone. 
 For if to all so tender thou wilt prove, 
 'Tis clear the only favoured one is he [move. 
 
 Towards whom thine eye doth with displeasure 
 Scarcely, indeed, can I be loved by thee, 
 If in thy heart thou hast another love, 
 For Love is one, nor can divided be. 
 
 London, October 1880.
 
 134 SONETOS. 
 
 cccxxxi. 
 
 CORIDON Y TITIRO. 
 
 AL pie de una verde y alta enzina 
 
 Coridon su zarapona esta taftiendo, 
 A la sombra del' yedra, que trociendo 
 El passo por los arboles camifia. 
 Cantava los amores de la nifia 
 Amarilis, que amor le esta" influyendo ; 
 Las aves por los ramos van corriendo, 
 Al pie corre una fuente cristalina. 
 A e"l se allegd Titiro perdido 
 Guiando su rebano macilento, 
 Fue este amigo suyo mui querido. 
 Contavale su dafto y su tormento ; 
 Ni platica haze gusto al desabrido, 
 Ni el dolor haze triste al que es contento.
 
 SONNETS. 135 
 
 CCCXXXI. 
 CORYDON AND TITYRUS. 
 
 [IN SPANISH.] 
 
 T) ENEATH a green and lofty oak reclined, 
 "*^ Corydon o'er the scale his finger threw 
 In ivy's shade, whose clinging tendrils grew 
 Among the trees, and round the branches twined. 
 Of Amaryllis, nymph for whom he pined, 
 He sang the loves, love's moving power he knew ; 
 The birds among the branches listening flew, 
 And lower down did stream of crystal wind. 
 To him comes Tityrus, who idly roved, 
 Driving his meagre cattle o'er the plain ; 
 Tityrus was friend of Corydon best loved. 
 He tells him all his torment and his pain ; 
 By other's speech the embittered is not moved, 
 Nor grief makes sorrowful the heart that's fain. 
 
 Trieste, August i8o.
 
 136 SONETOS. 
 
 CCCXXXVIII. 
 
 A morte da amante. 
 
 T"~\ O corpo estava ja" quasi for^ada 
 
 -* '^ Aquella alma gentil ao Ceo devida, 
 
 Rompendo a nobre tea de sua vida 
 
 Por tornar cedo & patria desejada. 
 
 Ainda em flor sem ter raiz lancada 
 
 Na terra della tanto aborrecida 
 
 S'arrancou boamente, e esta partida 
 
 Fez, a morte, suave sua Jornada. 
 
 Alma pura, que ao mundo te mostraste 
 
 Solta de seus grilhoens q'outros enlaclo, 
 
 E agora gozas 14 dias melhores, 
 
 Dos teus, que cd sem ti tristes deixaste 
 
 Te mova alta piedade, em quanto passao 
 
 Estas horas que a dor lhe faz maiorcs.
 
 SONNETS. 137 
 
 CCCXXXVI II. 
 On the death of his beloved. 
 
 T T ALF plucked already from the body's load. 
 
 A * This gentle soul was owing to the sky, 
 Tearing its noble web of life, to fly 
 In swift return unto its craved abode. 
 E'en in full flower, or ere a root it showed 
 That could to earth, it so detested, tie, 
 It tore itself away, joying to die ; 
 A parting that, in death, oped pleasing road. 
 Pure soul, who to the world thyself hast shown, 
 Free from those fetters which the rest enchain, 
 And now enjoyest there far happier days, 
 Let thine, whom here thou'hast left to mourn alone, 
 Thy deepest pity move, while they remain 
 Through hours that grief the longer still delays. 
 
 Gratz, August 1880.
 
 i 3 8 SONETOS. 
 
 CCCXLVI. 
 
 A morte d ' El-Rei D. Sebasti&o, a quem o Porta dedicou 
 " Os Lusiadas." 
 
 /^OM o generoso rostro alanceado, 
 ^"^ Chea de po e sangue a Real fronte, 
 Chegou a triste barca de Acheronte 
 O gram Sebastiao sombra tornado. 
 Vendo o cruel barqueiro que forcado 
 Queria o Rei passar, poz-se defronte, 
 Dizendo, pelas aguas desta fonte 
 Nunca passou ninguem desenterrado. 
 O valeroso Rei d'ira movido 
 Responde : 6 falso velho, por ventura 
 N2o passou outrem ja com forca d'ouro ? 
 Pois a um Rei banhado em sangue Mouro 
 Ousas tu perguntar por sepultura ? 
 Pergunta a quem vier menos ferido.
 
 SONNETS. 139 
 
 cccxlvi. 
 
 On the death of King Sebastian, to whom the Foet 
 dedicated " The Lusiads." 
 
 T IS generous visage gashed with heathen 
 *~1 blade, 
 
 His Royal brow with dust and blood all wan, 
 Came to the mournful boat of Acheron 
 The great Sebastian, past into a shade. 
 The cruel boatman, see'ng that undismayed 
 The King perforce would cross, pronounced his ban, 
 Vowing that never o'er that stream was man 
 Ferried, whose funeral rites were still unpaid. 
 The valorous King, whose anger knew no bounds, 
 Replied, Oh ! false old man, and dost not know 
 Others by force of gold have passed before ? 
 What ! of a King all bathed in blood of Moor 
 Darest thou to claim that he a tomb shall show ? 
 Claim it of him who comes with fewer wounds. 
 Suez, March 1S80.
 
 HO SONETOS. 
 
 CCCXLVII. 
 
 A urn joven gturreiro, fallecido em combate. 
 
 /^\UANDO do raro esforco que mostravas 
 '^ Largo fructo na guerra produzias, 
 Cortou-te a parca em flor, porque excedias 
 Com teus feitos os annos que contavas. 
 D'armas cobrindo o rosto afiguravas 
 Marte encoberto, amor se o descubrias, 
 Que se com a espada os esquadroens abrias, 
 Com geito os olhos apoz ti levavas. 
 Nao pode, nao, ferir-te imigo ferro, 
 Vulcano foi, que em sua fortaleza 
 O mais seguro arnez divide e parte. 
 Da" pore"m por desculpa de seo erro, 
 Que creo de teu esforco e gentileza 
 Que eras filho de Venus e de Martc.
 
 SONNETS. 141 
 
 CCCXLVII. 
 
 On the death of a young Portuguese warrior, slain 
 in combat. 
 
 W 7HILE by thy prowess, shown in rare degree, 
 Thou didst the war to mighty issues move, 
 Fate cut thee down in flower, for far above 
 Thy youthful years it deemed thy deeds to be. 
 Thy brow in armour clad, men figured thee 
 When covered, Mars ; and when uncovered, Love ; 
 For if thy sword through severed squadrons clove, 
 Thy gesture drew all following eyes to see. 
 No foeman's weapon could have slain thee, no ! 
 'Twas Vulcan's self, whose mighty force alone 
 Shatters the strongest armour borne in wars : 
 And thus doth he excuse this ill-timed blow ; 
 Struck by the grace that with thy valour shone. 
 He deemed thee son of Venus and of Mars ! 
 
 Malta, July 1880.
 
 i 4 2 SONETOS. 
 
 CCCL. 
 
 Soneto Religioso. 
 
 'T^U que descanso buscas com cuidado, 
 
 Nestes mares do mundo tempestuoso 
 Nao esperes de achar nenhum repouso, 
 Senao em Christo, Deos crucificado. 
 Se por riquezas vives desvelado, 
 Em Deus estd o thesouro mais precioso, 
 Se estas de formosura desejoso, 
 Se olhas este Senhor, es namorado. 
 Se tu buscas deleites ou prazeres, 
 O dulcor, esta nelle, dos dul^ores, 
 Que a todos nos deleita com victoria. 
 Se por ventura gloria ou honra qucres, 
 Que maior honra pdde ser nem gloria, 
 Que servir ao Senhor dos Grio-senhores.
 
 SONNETS. 143 
 
 CCCL. 
 
 A religious sonnet. 
 
 ''"""HOU who some calm art craving to provide 
 In these tempestuous seas of worldly woes, 
 Hope not that thou canst ever find repose, 
 Save it be sought in Christ, God crucified. 
 If by thy wealth thy slumbers be denied, 
 From God alone the richest treasure flows ; 
 If sight of beauty on thy fancy glows, 
 Viewing this Lord, thy love is occupied ; 
 If thou wouldst (pleasures or delights acquire, 
 Tis He the sweetness of all sweets affords, 
 He blesseth all of us with victory ; 
 If honour, glory, now be thy desire, 
 Honour or glory cannot greater be 
 Than in the serving this great Lord of lords. 
 
 Gratz, August i33o.
 
 ORIGINAL SONNETS.
 
 ( H7 ) 
 
 "REJOICE WITH TREMBLING." 
 
 Suggested by a sermon preached in Canterbury Cathedral 
 by the late Dean Alford ; and written at Dover. 
 
 /^^V'ER the hushed wave the sloping sunbeam 
 
 ^S glows, 
 
 And gilded sails play idly with the breeze, 
 
 Xo cloud from heaven a stain of darkness throws, 
 
 But all combines with spotless peace to please. 
 
 And when the sun hath ceased to shine on these, . 
 
 The rising moon her argent smile will show, 
 
 Drawing the charmed beholder to his knees 
 
 To worship Him Whose hand doth all bestow. 
 
 Oh ! ye, whose hearts such calm of surface know, 
 
 As can the mirror to this picture form, 
 
 " Rejoice with trembling" 'tis not always so ; 
 
 For interwove with Life are pain and storm, [blow, 
 
 When hearts must ache, ships toss, and tempests 
 
 Till God and Heaven seem lost to things below! 
 
 Sunday, May 8, 1859.
 
 148 ORIGINAL SONNETS. 
 
 "THE POETRY OF ASTRONOMY." 
 
 % To Stella. 
 
 T~\OUBT not my soul is deeply wrapt in thine, 
 "*- > ^ Whose vision colours every thought by day, 
 And in the darkness bears a double sway, 
 Provoking me to dream thou may'st be mine. 
 Oh ! why should stars that so remotely shine 
 Move us to worship, though their very ray 
 Warn that their charms are all so far away, 
 That fruitless Love can only live to pine. 
 But wherefore thus ? Away this fond despair ! 
 Hope views with joy the renovating light 
 Of thy sweet constellation shining there, [night ; 
 While gazing heavenward through my doubting 
 And tells that thou my primary shalt be, 
 And I, thy planet, live and move by thee.
 
 ORIGINAL SONNETS. 149 
 
 THE GROTTO OF LOURDES. 
 
 Catholic Reflections. 
 
 ALL who profess to bow before a throne 
 * *" Whereof ye must avow man nothing knows, 
 Blame not as blind this worship here, but own 
 From full-blown sacred sentiment it flows ; 
 If Reason's half 'gainst reasoning minds ye close, 
 And praise, half prostrate only, an Unknown, 
 This crowd that all its trusting headlong throws 
 In blind Devotion is far stauncher shown. 
 Nor fondly deem that ye shall not be blamed, 
 Who, damning Reason half, yet wield her knife 
 To prune where Reason shrinks, as half ashamed, 
 Bleeding away for her Faith's very life. 
 Bastard believers ! blush before this sight, 
 Wear Faith's whole fetters, or renounce her quite.
 
 ORIGINAL SONNETS. 
 
 CA UTERETS. 
 THE MOUNTAIN. 
 
 / "TT V IS morn, but on the misty mountain's brow 
 
 The rising sun no golden ray can shed ; 
 While all is brilliant in the vale below, 
 Darkness and cold are lowering o'er his head. 
 E'en thus, in early life, hearts that are led 
 Too soon by towering hopes and visions fine, 
 With mists of doubt and thought long cumbered, 
 See all the humbler spirits smile and shine. 
 Struggle, brave heart ! and as thy day wears on 
 The brightest of the glow shall still be thine. 
 When from the lowly valleys it hath gone, 
 Around thy brows alone it shall incline : 
 Thy force of thought shall fling thy mists away, 
 And shining heaven concede its crowning ray. 
 
 1878.
 
 ORIGINAL SONNETS. 151 
 
 CA UTERETS. 
 THE CLOUD. 
 
 O 00N as the cloud escapes the mountain's brow, 
 ^-^ Swift it regains its pristine sphere on high ; 
 Free from earth's bonds, it rides in summer's glow, 
 Sails on the breeze, rejoicing in the sky. 
 Such have appeared to me the minds that lie, 
 Cold and encumbered with established dread 
 Of merely counterfeit authority, 
 That chains them down in dark, subdued and dead. 
 These, when the pouring warmth of Reason's ray 
 Dissolves their bonds at last, and they expand, 
 Then they arouse, and tear themselves away, 
 Scorning the sterile tyrants of the land, 
 Aid and delight mankind, as clouds that rise 
 Water the valleys and adorn the skies. 
 
 1878.
 
 152 ORIGINAL SONNETS. 
 
 NOR WA F. 
 
 THE MIDNIGHT DAY. 
 
 f\ H ! give me back my star-bespangled skies 
 ^ _> ^ That soothe the eye relieved from watch of 
 Repose is part of life, but shuns the ray [day ; 
 
 Of garish midnight sun that never dies. 
 Let me once more to call of Morn arise, 
 Let Evening once again my senses sway ; 
 Here are no peep of dawn, no twilight grey, 
 No change whereto the changing heart replies. 
 Bright resurrection with the morning's beam ! 
 Warm death of sleep in sunless tomb of night ! 
 Mysterious doth your alternation seem, 
 Foreshadowing some far greater dark and light ; 
 Imagination in your course may see 
 The type of Death and Immortality. 
 
 i8 79 .
 
 ORIGINAL SONNETS. 153 
 
 NORWAY. 
 THE MID-DAY NIGHT. 
 
 /^"^REAT Night ! whose vasty shadow doth en- 
 
 ^-^ shroud 
 
 For period so prolonged this arctic zone, 
 
 Thou art not robed in sable garb alone, 
 
 But all about thy brow sparkles a crowd 
 
 Of stars, with more than starlight e'en endowed, 
 
 "While with wrought canopy of precious stone 
 
 Aurora Borealis gems thy throne, 
 
 And thy Moon's modest smile half seemeth proud. 
 
 Dark Beauty ! thus adorned, mother of dreams 
 
 That revel in thee, unalarmed by day, 
 
 How far with thee man's eye to wander seems, 
 
 How dost thou lead the straining soul away ! 
 
 But ah ! while thought would scan thy magic light, 
 
 Thou hast but this blank answer All is Night. 
 
 1879.
 
 154 ORIGINAL SONNETS. 
 
 PIC DU MIDI DE BIGORRE. 
 
 Addressed to General Nansouty, who has voluntarily stationed 
 himself in an Observatory on the top of this mountain. 
 
 TV yf" OUNT, mount, and dare these rugged 
 
 steeps on high, 
 Leave in the vale thy luxuries below ! 
 Where is thy merit here, thou butterfly, 
 That flutterest only in the summer's glow ? 
 But ye, whose hearts would aught of grandeur know, 
 Turn to these topmost crags your wondering eye ; 
 Behold a dweller here, who winds and snow, 
 Soldier of Science, bravely can defy ! 
 A white-haired warrior ye shall see revealed, 
 Who, working out his theme alone in age, 
 And gathering glory in this other field, 
 Doth with the changing heaven and air engage : 
 The sword of Science in his grasp ye find, 
 Mars still at heart, Apollo tunes his mind. 
 
 1878.
 
 ORIGINAL SONNETS. 155 
 
 TEE FIELD OF BALACLAVA. 
 
 On visiting this spot, on a very fine day, from Sebastopol. 
 
 QUMMER'S hot sun shone brilliant where I 
 
 ^ stood, 
 
 And honey-gathering bees hummed in mine ear, 
 
 The landscape basked in quietude, but near 
 
 There rose a monument that spoke of blood. 
 
 Sorrow stands next to joy, evil to good, 
 
 But what should this harsh record purport here, 
 
 Where all a sinless Eden might appear, 
 
 Where Peace sat smiling in her sweetest mood ? 
 
 Attend. Some five-and-twenty years ago 
 
 There raged a battle o'er this dozing field, 
 
 When led by wrong command, yea, even so, 
 
 To duty vowed, though slaughter stared revealed, 
 
 Up this long rise, and to my very feet 
 
 Galloped Six Hundred hearts Death's fire to meet ! 
 
 August 23, 1879.
 
 156 ORIGINAL SONNETS. 
 
 A DREAM. 
 
 T DREAMED that I had floated far away 
 * Into the realms of space, until the sun 
 Had dwindled to a star, while still not one 
 Of all the stars could yield a solar ray. 
 Earth all beyond e'en contemplation lay, 
 That atom, where I hung, was known to none : 
 Above, below, around, through darkness shone 
 Stars and stars only I had lost the day. 
 And then I dreamed that I had been too bold, 
 That from this silent void I must return, 
 That teeming life I'had left for barren cold, 
 Where not for me these alien lights could burn 
 Then, waking, I believed my dream had told, 
 Man only in the sphere of Man can learn.
 
 ORIGINAL SONNETS. 157 
 
 THE NILE. 
 
 STREAMING from far, of source mysterious 
 
 ^"^ God of a race like children of a dream [still, 
 
 So hazed in mists of Time remote they seem 
 
 I roll, as I have rolled, 'twixt plain, mount, hill, 
 
 My destiny of ages to fulfil : 
 
 A desert I inspire with life to teem, 
 
 I make a land where'er my waters gleam, 
 
 And breathe my annual blessings as I wilL 
 
 I was Old Egypt's and Old Egypt mine, 
 
 Or e'er thy races, Europe, yet were known, 
 
 And now thy young of yesterday combine 
 
 To probe the darkness of our glory flown : 
 
 Ask them if they, perchance, e'en yet divine 
 
 How much shall by my Dead be overthrown.
 
 158 ORIGINAL SONNETS. 
 
 TO AUGUSTA. 
 
 ANOTHER circle from thy birth complete ! 
 *" And fifteen times year after year have rolled } 
 Yet, surely, heretofore hath life been sweet, 
 Nor grief found heart her curtain to unfold : 
 But happy days, alas ! too soon are told, 
 And they who live must look for changing skies, 
 Yet shall thy guardian angel ne'er grow cold, 
 Nor suffer tears to overwhelm those eyes ! 
 In all the spangled universe no star 
 Doth shine unguided.by a Hand Divine, 
 And all the lives they hold are dearer far, 
 And all are guided too, and so is thine ! [thy song, 
 Then bloom, young flower, young bird, put forth 
 Thy share of sunshine shall be bright and long !
 
 ORIGINAL SONNETS. 159 
 
 THE MOTHERS LAMENT. 
 
 A MOTHER mourned her child, a daughter, 
 "^ And in her earliest agonies of grief [lost, 
 The dearest voice dared not attempt relief, 
 In waves so rude of anguish was she tossed ! 
 But when the first calm ray of reason crossed 
 Her smitten soul, and she could meditate, 
 Sense of her sorrow came to soften fate, 
 E'en by the very wound that it had cost : 
 " My daughter," she exclaimed, " thus torn away, 
 Hadst thou in life as mother known to love, 
 Perchance thou, too, hadst known such bitter day 
 As I, thy mourning mother, now must prove ; 
 The pangs this separation costs to me, 
 I thank my God, can never torture thee ! "
 
 160 ORIGINAL SONNETS. 
 
 FOLLOW TEE LIGET. 
 
 T70LL0W the Light it cannot lead astray; 
 "* Thy danger lies in doubting tread thy way ; 
 Follow the Light its path is dark to find, 
 But it were death to pause, outrun, delay ; 
 If thou dost hope again to hail the day, 
 Follow nor trust the darkness of thy mind. 
 Tis a hard thing, and passing hard, to do ! 
 Sometimes it stands, or flickers ; seems untrue ; 
 It cannot be 'tis probing thy mistrust 
 It drags o'er bruising rocks ; in the dank dew 
 Of chill Despond it chains thee ; but anew 
 It will move onward, shine and guide it must. 
 It will not slay nor quit thee : hold thou fast : 
 Invoking, or upbraiding, cleave to the last ! 
 Follow the Light !
 
 ORIGINAL SONNETS. 161 
 
 CONTEXT AND AMBITION. 
 
 TV /TORNING was beautiful ; along the dale 
 A The enamelled meadows laughed with 
 flowers of spring, 
 The birds had long begun to build and sing, 
 The opening year might seem to cry, All Hail ! 
 Yet did the balmy air and sunshine fail 
 To chase away the clouds that still would cling 
 On all the mountain tops, there hovering, 
 As cloudy thoughts will o'er high hearts prevail. 
 Content held converse with the day below, 
 With birds, flowers, sunshine, meadows, prattling 
 Ambition chafed a wider scope to know, [stream : 
 To him these softer scenes must idle seem ; [snow, 
 He marched and mounted midst the crags and 
 And passed the day in labour, mist, and dream.
 
 1 62 ORIGINAL SONNETS. 
 
 THE DEATH-BED. 
 
 T SAW thee breathe thy last, and pass away ; 
 
 A smile, a long-drawn sigh, and thou wast gone ; 
 I asked myself whereto thy life had flown, 
 Star of my life, but now mere flameless clay ! 
 Oh ! could I but believe with those who say 
 Thy light hath left thy form to shine alone, 
 That thou art still my Thou whom I may own, 
 In spheres more pure than our mere eyesight day. 
 But, Nature ! if such straining hope be true, 
 Which thou thyself hast gendered in the brain, 
 Why vex with certain signs that all is o'er, 
 When Death doth sense and motion all subdue ? 
 Why teach us by thy course we meet no more, 
 Yet prompt a hope that we shall meet again ?
 
 ORIGINAL SONNETS. 163 
 
 IS YOUR GOD L0VE1 
 
 r I A HE mother loves her child, the bird its young, 
 ** And child and young in turn both love the 
 mother ; 
 Offspring and source are blended with each other, 
 E'en like a sweet harp's tones by Nature strung ! 
 Through all the ranges of her crowded throng, 
 Linked in a unity with one another, 
 There breathes a harmony no hell can smother, 
 Despite the jarring of discordant wrong. 
 Who tuned the harp of Nature to this strain ? 
 Who taught the world to live by Love ? A God, 
 Who brings forth millions for eternal pain, 
 Still multiplying victims for His rod ? 
 Ye teachers of this Word, your word is vain, 
 If God be Love if not, such be His code !
 
 1 64 ORIGINAL SONNETS. 
 
 MAN. 
 
 / TRHOU Human Being, calling thyself Man, 
 
 Who must, like all around thee, come and go, 
 Claiming to be Chief Object of Earth's plan, 
 Thou mak'st thyself far more than thou canst know ; 
 How should thy life from separate sources flow, 
 And why should all to thy one centre lean ? 
 As if, forsooth, all things for thee must grow, 
 Thou only reasoner, nor of all most clean. 
 Go, learn a truth that something more doth mean, 
 And own thyself mere part of all around : 
 Shall greater never here one day be seen, 
 And is Creation's ultimate yet found ? 
 Like waves at sea, or breakers on the shore, 
 Thou art a Consequence, and nothing more.
 
 ORIGINAL SONNETS. 165 
 
 NON CREDENS. 
 
 X T 7 ERE there a God whose ear I could invade 
 
 With any voice that might an answer bring, 
 
 Then through Creation's range these words should 
 
 ring- 
 Speak and appear, and be a God displayed ! 
 Unseen, unheard, at most but guessed, Thou'rt 
 
 made 
 Slave of Thy creature Man 'gainst man, a Thing 
 To bless, curse, save, slay, loose, bind, smile, 
 
 frown, sting, 
 Heal, promise, threaten, comfort, and upbraid ! 
 I wonder, as I ponder o'er this theme, 
 How Thou a God canst be while such things be, 
 Save as creation of our creature mind ! 
 For past all comprehension doth it seem, 
 That thus with vain, pernicious mystery, 
 A God should make a World and hide behind !
 
 166 ORIGINAL SONNETS. 
 
 II. 
 
 CREDENS. 
 
 /^REAT God Incomprehensible ! Whose light 
 ^^ Doth move with fire Creation's boundless 
 
 sphere, 
 Who speakest not with voice, Whom yet we hear, 
 Whose Presence, though unseen, illumines sight ; 
 Avenger of all wrong, Shield of all right, 
 Far from the unfaithful, to the faithful near, 
 Too vast in voice and person to appear, [might ! 
 How blind man quails 'neath Thine Almighty 
 Ages have reverenced Thy Holy Name, 
 And pondering o'er the terrors of Thy Law, 
 Have come before Thy throne the knee to bend ; 
 Though Thou hast made us small, from Thee we 
 
 came, 
 And Thou wilt hear, while with submissive awe 
 We praise and pray, but do not comprehend.
 
 ORIGINAL SONNETS. 167 
 
 III. 
 
 CHRISTIANUS. 
 
 / HP V HE stock-dove coos me Mercy through the 
 
 grove, 
 The sunbeams pour around their warming glow, 
 The hushing pines their spicy fragrance throw ; 
 All seems a message of Almighty Love, 
 As o'er the flowers and moss I pensive rove, 
 Casting aside all thought of mortal woe, 
 Tuning my heart by all the notes that flow 
 From birds rejoicing in the boughs above. 
 Here let me take my fill of thought, and dwell 
 On all The Lord Revealed hath done for all, 
 Who came on earth and gave His life away ; 
 For thus I revel in this spring-tide spell, 
 Breathing the air of Morning that we call 
 Our Resurrection's Hope, our Easter Day.
 
 i68 ORIGINAL SONNETS. 
 
 NAZARETH. 
 
 On visiting the Orphanage established by " The Society for pro- 
 moting Female Education in the East." Miss Dickson, 
 Superintending Lady ; Miss Tanner, her Assistant. 
 
 '"T'^WO virgins dwell at Nazareth to-day, 
 
 Diffusing joy and happiness around ; 
 In that white dreary town on rocky ground 
 Handmaids of Love and Charity are they ! 
 One with calm self-possession takes her way, 
 Like barque by steadfast winds to haven bound ; 
 The other by her side is ever found, 
 And o'er both hearts Hope pours its brightest ray. 
 High o'er the town they guard the choice abode, 
 That kindly hands have founded for the young, 
 And there unseen pursue their task divine. 
 Albeit they do not seek that man applaud, 
 Yet, deigning to accept my proffered line, 
 Their gentle toil shall not be all unsung. 
 
 April 13, 1880.
 
 POEMS FROM ROME. 
 
 1856-57.
 
 ( I7i ) 
 
 THE CAESARS' PALACE. 
 
 TT THERE warmth and glitter once their life 
 
 displayed, 
 Dark ruin stares, and restless winds invade ; 
 Where Emperors' revels Rome was wont to hear, 
 A weight of silence presses on the ear ; 
 Cold gloom presides where glory once beguiled, 
 And desolation frowns where plenty smiled. 
 Still the gaunt fragments rear their surly form, 
 Bask in the sunshine, and upbraid the storm, 
 And still command, all barren though they be, 
 The honours of Imperial Pedigree. 
 Thou Northern Stranger ! tread not lightly here 
 Though Caesars' Palace scorn to ask thy tear, 
 Deem not the less thy foot on sacred ground, 
 And cast a trembling, reverent gaze around. 
 E'en where thou standest, verily have stood 
 That mighty Race thou canst not claim in blood ;
 
 172 POEMS FROM ROME. 
 
 Or e'er thy ancestors were named or known, 
 Here ruled those "Great" who called "The 
 
 World " their own, 
 Here signed their mandates, and with easy sway 
 Commanded all to hear and to obey, 
 Enriched by Art, invincible in Arms, 
 And hallowed by the Poet's deathless charms ! 
 Oh ! who could careless come, to pass the hour 
 Unmoved, midst all these wrecks of Roman power, 
 Or fail, while wandering these vast crags between, 
 To gather inspiration from the scene ! 
 Where'er thy Nation be, returning tell 
 All thou hast felt where Caesars ruled and fell, 
 How, though their Name be nought, though once 
 Their very ruins seem to master Fate, [so great, 
 Where still such stubborn majesty appears, 
 In spite of Time and his Two Thousand years ! 
 Yet mount, and catch the distant scenes on high, 
 Of old reflected on the Csesars' eye 
 With wide Campagna spreading far below, 
 And old Genaro purpled in the glow, 
 Whose glorious chain far stretching towards the 
 Bosomed Imperial Tibur's groves of yore, [shore,
 
 POEMS FROM ROME. 173 
 
 But ah ! returning near the Caesars' home, 
 Let not thine eye unkindly look for Rome, 
 Rome, whose old splendour, in her noonday glare, 
 Might e'en with Jove's own palaces compare ! 
 Where Cypress shrouds her ruins with its gloom, 
 They seem that splendour's witness and its tomb, 
 And Fancy deems, while mourning o'er decay, 
 The Ancient City her own "Appian Way."* 
 
 The lesson's short : None are too great to fall : 
 Behold, again, " The Writing on the Wall : " 
 Reflect how Rome's Great Nation ceased to shine, 
 And pray thy God, " So may not perish mine ! " 
 
 * The Street of Tombs, outside Old Rome.
 
 174 POEMS FROM ROME. 
 
 LA SPERANZA. 
 
 (GUIDO.) 
 
 1 "'AIR Flower of Life ! in Guido's softest form, 
 * What hallowed beauty blooms upon thy brow ! 
 Fain must the coldest stranger's heart grow warm, 
 Gazing, with joy, on such a saint as thou. 
 
 In this rude world though thou must be beloved, 
 Thy heart in Heaven its dearest object finds, 
 
 And here thou shinest, not too far removed, 
 To nurse, bright Hope ! our less angelic minds.
 
 POEMS FROM ROME. 175 
 
 LA MADDALENA. 
 (Guido.) 
 
 O WEET is the theme of mercy to the weak, 
 v *"^ Who from thy story twofold comfort learn, 
 How none of frailty should too harshly speak, 
 And how the wanderer may still return. 
 
 Softly He spake, Who came to save us all, 
 Moving thy wounded heart to weep and pray, 
 
 And thou didst turn, obedient to the call, 
 
 And heard that all thy sins were washed away !
 
 176 POEMS FROM ROME. 
 
 LANNUNZIAZIONE. 
 (Guido.) 
 
 ' / ""P*IS well ! the graceful pencil here portrays 
 * The chastity and meekness that were thine 
 
 Nor crowns thy quiet brow with foreign bays, 
 Exalting thee from mortal to divine. 
 
 " Hail ! highly favoured of the Lord art thou ! " 
 Such holy message did the angel give : 
 
 Before the Annunciation didst thou bow, 
 
 And broughtest forth the Christ, by Whom all 
 live !
 
 POEMS FROM ROME. 177 
 
 TO TIBUR.* 
 
 T WILL not sing thy noisy waterfall, 
 
 It needs no voice of mine ; 
 I will not thy imperial state recall, 
 
 All know thou once didst shine ; 
 Thou art no more, and many are no more, 
 
 Who once were rich and great ; 
 Tis the same story often told before, 
 
 None can outlive their date. 
 Yet, Tibur ! thou shalt never die, 
 Though buried all thy greatness lie, 
 Because thy softer rural Fame 
 Is mingled with the Poet's name, 
 And here, as from himself we know, 
 His sweetest cadences would flow. 
 For here, removed from noisy Rome, 
 The Muse of Horace found a home, 
 
 * The modern Tivoli. 
 
 M
 
 178 POEMS FROM ROME. 
 
 'Twas here he poured the lovely line, 
 In measures more than half divine, 
 Delighting through thy shades to rove, 
 For every poet loves the grove. 
 Thy skies that shone, thy airs that blew, 
 Thy fragrant flowers of early spring, 
 Around his heart their magic threw, 
 And taught him like thy birds to sing ; 
 And while thy streams responsive flowed, 
 Melpomene would breathe the ode ! 
 But sometimes he would seize the lyre, 
 Imbued with more than wonted fire, 
 And strike a more resounding string, 
 Of Caesar and of arms to sing 
 Of how the soldier in the field 
 Had bent new distant foes to yield, 
 Or how the aspiring Roman State 
 Was destined for Eternal Fate ; 
 But soon these echoes died away 
 As if too harsh he deemed the strain, 
 And turning to his wonted lay, 
 He sang of Peace and thee again ;
 
 POEMS FROM ROME. 179 
 
 The shepherds, and the basking flocks 
 
 That feed along thy grassy rocks ; 
 
 Of Love that threw her charm around, 
 
 And made e'en thine more hallowed ground ; 
 
 Of chosen friends, and frugal fare, 
 
 And wealth, not great enough for care, 
 
 And how the wise, by asking less, 
 
 Enjoyed their more of happiness ; 
 
 Rejoicing in the quiet mind 
 
 That only rural poets find ; 
 
 And praying, that the gods would please 
 
 To grant, if he to age should live, 
 
 Among thy olives and thy bees 
 
 The home that thou alone couldst give : 
 
 Whose charms he cherished far before 
 
 Larissa's plains and Baiae's shore. 
 
 Such, Tibur, were the songs he sung, 
 
 When thou and Horace both were young ! 
 
 And thou art passed, and he is dead, 
 
 And centuries have flown away, 
 
 But where the Bard lies buried 
 
 There stands no monument to say ;
 
 180 POEMS FROM ROME. 
 
 He always scorned the pompous stone, 
 
 And Fate has made his grave unknown. 
 
 But whom the Muses make divine, 
 
 We seek not in the voiceless shrine, 
 
 But rather in his living line, 
 
 Whose life, while Nature shines, shall shine 
 
 In all the scenes his harp has sung, 
 
 We find him breathing still, and young, 
 
 And these in turn preserve his name, 
 
 And all his melody proclaim, 
 
 Both gathering and giving fame : 
 
 Thus he and they shall Fate defy, 
 
 And Tibur, thou shalt never die !
 
 POEMS FROM ROME. 
 
 FAREWELL TO ROME. 
 
 I ^AREWELL to Rome, but not her memories ! 
 
 "*- The fond unwilling eye must fain submit, 
 
 With all its wondrous range, to say farewell ; 
 
 The faithful heart will never say farewell. 
 
 No compass bounds its more than mortal sight, 
 
 No darkness can its recollection blind, 
 
 But to past scenes permitted to return 
 
 It calls them forth and makes them live again, 
 
 And moulds them to a part of its own life : 
 
 Hence all its penalties and all its pleasures ! 
 
 Thus, then, farewell ! and yet how strange it seems 
 
 To say farewell to Rome ! How many years 
 
 The pondering mind has dwelt upon that word, 
 
 As on a dream it ne'er should realise, 
 
 And now we say farewell ! Rome visited, 
 
 Her ruins made companions and her scenes 
 
 Of antiquated gray and living glory
 
 1 82 POEMS FROM ROME. 
 
 And all her haunts divine and classical 
 All are before us and among our Past ; 
 A fruitful garden of still growing flowers, 
 A well of sparkling water whence to draw. 
 
 Such is Time's flight ! The hour we have desired 
 May come but cannot stay, and while we deem 
 Our chiefest longings still impossible, 
 Behold them here and gone ! In journeying life 
 We cannot loiter over chosen scenes ; [ment, 
 
 Time runs alike through hope and through enjoy- 
 Down sweeps the stream and we are on its bosom. 
 
 And now, what Rome was to our dreams, unseen, 
 We know, but what she will be to our thoughts, 
 A wondrous, strange, and glorious reality, 
 Lies in our future life. And, while I live, 
 May Rome be ever pleasing to my mind, 
 Creating there in thought such chosen hues 
 As lovely sunset sheds upon her mountains, 
 And never come such clouds upon my life 
 As could prevail to make those memories sad !
 
 POEMS FROM ROME. 183 
 
 Farewell ! yet not farewell without a word 
 To one whose kindly presence lent a ray 
 E'en to the sunshine, and the changing cloud 
 Relieved of darkness. Thus, as we depart, 
 Farewell to Rome, but not her memories !
 
 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS.
 
 ( i8 7 ) 
 
 ON THE DEATH OF HENRY HAVELOCK. 
 NOVEMBER 1857. 
 
 TV TfOURN but rejoice ! the Hero dies, 
 "** But wearing glory's crown ; 
 Fate lifts his spirit to the skies, 
 And leaves us his renown. 
 
 A mark for ever is his name, 
 
 Who Treason's strength withstood ; 
 
 And all immortal is his fame, 
 For he was great and good. 
 
 Destined the British sword to wield, 
 
 In duty's path he trod ; 
 He nerved his soldiers for the field, 
 
 And trusted in his God. 
 
 His army answered worthily, 
 They knew their leader well ; 
 
 And all their deeds of chivalry 
 Proud history shall telL
 
 1 88 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 
 
 No numbers quelled no hardships broke- 
 They turned aside for none ; 
 
 He gave the sign, the word he spoke, 
 The day was fought and won. 
 
 In two short months nine battles fought 
 Gave nine of victories gained ; 
 
 But glory was too dearly bought 
 Nothing for life remained. 
 
 Mourn but rejoice rejoice but mourn ! 
 
 Untimely was the blow, 
 The Star bestowed, but all unworn, 
 
 He never lived to know. 
 
 Choice are their country's gifts to those 
 Who proudly prize their birth, 
 
 And honours sweeten the repose 
 Of gallantry and worth. 
 
 Only the gloomy cypress frowned 
 
 O'er heart and head so true, 
 Whom gratitude afar had crowned 
 
 With titled laurels too.
 
 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 189 
 
 Mourn but rejoice ! he lived to see 
 
 His sacred hopes fulfilled, 
 That city saved from cruelty, 
 
 And women's anguish stilled. 
 
 This was the glory, this the prize 
 That God's own hand bestowed, 
 
 Then raised his spirit to the skies, 
 And loosened all his load. 
 
 In peace or war, in calm or strife, 
 
 Whoever thou may'st be, 
 Still trust in Him who gave thee life, 
 
 And He will care for thee : 
 
 When storms arise and dangers shock. 
 
 And demons treason plan, 
 Remember Henry Havelock, 
 
 And be an Englishman.
 
 190 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 
 
 REFLECTIONS AT MIDNIGHT. 
 
 /^*LEAR shines the moon in midnight sky, 
 ^"^ And calm the silent city sleeps, 
 Yet 'neath this halo from on high, 
 
 There must be many a heart that weeps ! 
 
 Repose is still must grief be loud ? 
 
 Its deepest sighs we cannot hear ; 
 The storm may pass but ah ! the cloud 
 
 That hangs, and rains the secret tear. 
 
 So secret that it waits the night 
 
 To shroud its glitter in her pall, 
 So deep that in the inward fight 
 
 The weeper scarcely heeds its fall. 
 
 And there's a grief that's deeper still, 
 The grief that e'en forbids the tear, 
 
 And burns the drop that Nature's skill 
 Has wrought, to water sorrow here.
 
 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 191 
 
 Such grief finds life while others rest, 
 And, haply, now on some doth lie, 
 
 The tyrant of some aching breast 
 
 That would not live, and cannot die ! 
 
 If so, ah ! blessed were the voice 
 That whispered in the sullen ear, 
 
 " Mourner, though thou canst not rejoice, 
 Look up, and see the sky is clear ! " 
 
 And if perchance, with cold disdain 
 The listless ear were turned away, 
 
 As if resolved to nourish pain 
 
 The voice compassionate would say : 
 
 ' How thinkest thou the moon could ride 
 
 So clear in yon blue arc above, 
 If here, on grief and trouble's side, 
 
 Nothing were left of Peace and Love ? 
 
 " While Heaven can claim her azure hue, 
 The clouds must break and cease to rain ; 
 
 And Hope is here to whisper true, 
 And speak of happiness again :
 
 192 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 
 
 " But bluest heavens are dark to those 
 Who shun their smile with hidden eyes ; 
 
 How many a form that shocks repose 
 Before the wakened vision flies ! 
 
 " Shall moonlight soothe, and sunbeam warm, 
 And man be sad and cold the while ? 
 
 Shall mortal heart refuse the charm, 
 If Hope, life's guardian angel, smile ? 
 
 " Thy mind is free ! then burst the chain 
 That only slaves to sorrow wear ; 
 
 Look up ! and be a man again 
 The worst of tyrants is Despair ! 
 
 " What is Despair ? a foolish name 
 Hope is the monarch of the heart ; 
 
 A fire, how small soe'er the flame, 
 That never dies, and will not part ; 
 
 " 'Tis true how bright soe'er the day, 
 There must be shadow somewhere thrown, 
 
 And so, be happy as we may, 
 Sorrow will ever claim her own ;
 
 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 193 
 
 " Night follows day but day again 
 Breaks forth to bid the world revive ; 
 
 And many a heart, relieved of pain, 
 Comes forth to pleasure, thrice alive ; 
 
 " Look up, and view this lovely Night 
 How calm her brow, how soft her breath ! 
 
 Through sleep she leads us back to light, 
 And wilt thou make her mantle death ?" 
 
 E'en thus the kindly voice might preach, 
 Nor aching heart the truth deny ; 
 
 E'en thus Philosophy might teach 
 That sighs should cease and tears should d ry; 
 
 But ah ! this world's rough life declares, 
 With Hope's bright beam to guide us still, 
 
 How past all healing are some cares, 
 How many a heart doth Sorrow kill !
 
 194 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 
 
 UNDER THE YEW TREE, IN CHIPSTEAD 
 CHURCHYARD, SURREY. 
 
 O WEET smile the scenes on this too restless 
 ^ earth, 
 
 E'en where cold death is mingled with repose ! 
 And o'er these relics of departed worth 
 The contemplating spirit calmly glows ! 
 Kindly the old church yew her darkness throws, 
 Her group from day's too garish eye to save, 
 While onward, where her brooding shadows close, 
 The sunbeam shines, like hope beyond the grave, 
 And mellows gloom to calm, lest sadness should 
 enslave ! 
 
 Peaceful they sleep ! and though in varied life, 
 The dusty tenants haply ne'er joined hand, 
 Mere careless neighbours though unstained by 
 
 strife, 
 Their tombs a brotherhood now seem to stand !
 
 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 195 
 
 Such holy tone sheds Death's all-levelling wand, 
 Who here a tranquil lesson can impart, 
 For these old hoary graves no grief command, 
 The wounds they waked, long, long have ceased 
 
 to smart, 
 The tears they moved are dry they wring no 
 
 living heart 1 
 
 Aye, all around is peace, though all be death, 
 And all the end of mortal man declare : 
 For all reminds us that, with parting breath, 
 The vexed and restless spirit parts with care ; 
 Deceived by Hope, or wearied with Despair, 
 Who would not lay his bones beneath such shade ! 
 But ah ! thine end too soon to crave forbear, 
 For rest was only for the weary made, 
 And they who have not toiled cannot with rest 
 be paid ! 
 
 Back to the world ! nor dream too long alone 
 The grass is green, the skies are blue above, 
 Rest on the Being thou art bid to own 
 A Father, whose most highest Name is Love !
 
 196 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 
 
 Life cannot all one changeless trial prove ; 
 No total darkness on the earth doth reign ; 
 Mortality was made to live and move ; 
 And so thou dost not spend thy days in vain, 
 For thee such rest, as seemeth here, shall e'en 
 remain.
 
 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 197 
 
 TIME IS LIFE. 
 
 r I ^IME that matures brings also to decay ; 
 
 Buds grow to blossoms, blossoms fade away ; 
 The increase of life but nearer proves our end, 
 Manhood stands next in withering age to bend, 
 Blooming or breaking, every change man hath 
 Is but a movement in the mortal path. 
 Then keep with patience every present hour, 
 Seek not to pass so soon from bud to flower, 
 The blush of morning, though but calmly bright, 
 Stands not so near as blazing noon to night, 
 And, save that Death doth blindly deal his blow, 
 Childhood's young stream the farthest hath to flow. 
 Or bright, or sad, 'tis life : embrace the day, 
 E'en in thy trouble ne'er wish Time away ; 
 To guard each hour of life doth something save, 
 To long for e'en to-morrow is to call the grave.
 
 198 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 
 
 LIFE IS CHANGE. 
 
 yXREAM not the world so soon must fade 
 "^^^ Because thy life so frail is made ; 
 Though age o'ertake, new youth appears, 
 And brightens all the rolling years. 
 
 Change is the watchword of the hour, 
 We court the stream, we wreathe the flower, 
 The waters dry but fresh shall flow, 
 The garlands fade, but others grow. 
 
 The mother cannot youth retain, 
 But feels it in her child again, 
 And he, when grown to be a sire, 
 Shall still Creation's life inspire. 
 
 If Time's rude hand hath changed thy brow, 
 If something less of freshness now 
 Within thy bounding pulse appears, 
 Than graced thy life in earlier years,
 
 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 199 
 
 Oh ! dwell not on that common truth, 
 But trace in all the growth of youth 
 The charms that Nature doth unfold : 
 Ah ! what if all the world were old ! 
 
 Though Time destroys, he ripens too, 
 The changing world is ever new, 
 And youth shall bloom and life be gay 
 When we and ours have passed away.
 
 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 
 
 YOUTH, AGE, AND DEATH. 
 
 TT THEN quite a child I loved to play, 
 
 * And frolicked all my life away, 
 And longed for each succeeding day. 
 
 And when, by Time compelled to move 
 Towards manhood, I began to prove 
 The sentiment we know as Love. 
 
 Still later on, a father grown, 
 I 'gan to ponder more alone, 
 More solemn than I cared to own. 
 
 And when I grandfather became, 
 
 And 'gan to walk a little lame, 
 
 All things to me seemed much the same. 
 
 Oh ! now comes wisdom thus I cried 
 All life's pursuits in turn I've tried, 
 And thrown such vanities aside.
 
 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 201 
 
 But now comes Death to shake my hand, 
 
 And tells me I must leave the land, 
 
 And says Good friend, pray understand : 
 
 A very foolish thought is this, 
 That Age can wisdom claim as his, 
 And deem Youth's pleasures all amiss : 
 
 Age cannot, sure, compete with Youth ; 
 Age is not young : 'tis equal truth 
 Youth is not Age : there's room for both : 
 
 Were you a child again, again 
 
 Would childhood's pleasures fill your brain ; 
 
 Or man, love would your heart enchain : 
 
 You'd come to meet me as you came ; 
 You'd play once more your former game ; 
 Others are doing just the same : 
 
 Earth still has pleasures for the young, 
 
 Their song of life is not yet sung, 
 
 Earth counts them still her flowers among : 
 
 But they, as you have changed, must change, 
 To them will early life seem strange ; 
 In all succeeding ranks all range :
 
 202 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 
 
 Earth to the young is young : the old 
 Pretend she's vain, worn out and cold ; 
 It is that they begin to mould : 
 
 Your time is come, and you must go, 
 You cannot care to stay, I know : 
 Your stream of life runs thick and low : 
 
 Have done with this old foolish song, 
 Tis nought but fading life's ding-dong : 
 You've lived your time, so come along !
 
 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 203 
 
 SEVENTY YEARS TO-DAY. 
 
 Stanzas written for an old couple born on the same day for 
 their seventieth anniversary. Addressed by the husband 
 to his wife. 
 
 /^""\UR early days are past and gone, 
 ^""^ Our youth's gay course is run, 
 And yet we are not left alone, 
 Nor yet has set our sun. 
 
 Fair evening has her charms, though morn 
 
 And noon may brilliant be ; 
 And ne'er can beat my heart forlorn, 
 
 While still I gaze on thee ! 
 
 Ah ! why repine, if evening close 
 
 With calm and golden sky ? 
 How bright soe'er our morn arose, 
 
 We knew that it must fly.
 
 204 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 
 
 And while 'twas morn we had not proved 
 This bond but Death can sever, 
 
 We had not seen, we had not loved, 
 Nor lived and moved together. 
 
 If memory makes the charm of days 
 
 Time only can bestow, 
 Then larger joy our life displays, 
 
 As older still we grow. 
 
 The hoary lock with happiness 
 
 Is green with inward joy, 
 Nor wilt thou say my heart is less 
 
 Than when I was a boy. 
 
 And though I spy thy silvered hair, 
 And brow with furrows filled, 
 
 Beneath, the sparkling eye is there, 
 That nothing yet hath chilled. 
 
 And though the charm of youth be past, 
 
 Nor beauty more beguile, 
 Still, still thy lips in peace are cast, 
 
 Nor have forgot to smile.
 
 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 205 
 
 And I as old, thy wrinkles mine ! 
 
 Oh ! may I smile as true, 
 And may mine eyes, while meeting thine, 
 
 Still sparkle back onyou ! 
 
 Our rest of life shall burn the same, 
 
 Through every day we spend, 
 And like the taper, keep its flame, 
 
 Though verging toward the end. 
 
 That flickering end we know must be, 
 
 Nor very far away, 
 Yet casts no cloud on you and me, 
 
 Though seventy years to-day !
 
 2o6 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 
 
 THE OLD WIDOWER SHEPHERD TO HIS 
 DEAD DOG. 
 
 \ T THERE thou art gone and whither I shall go, 
 God only knows, though man must seem 
 to know; 
 This much is true on earth, as man and dog, 
 For years we side by side would always jog ; 
 I looked to thee and thou wouldst look to me, 
 And while wast here no better friends could be ; 
 We went to work and came back home together, 
 In the long summer days and winter weather ; 
 Under the hedge my coat and things you'd keep, 
 And when I called would come help fold the sheep. 
 Thy death hath cowed me, let be how it will, 
 And left a blank that nought I know can fill. 
 If all our births and deaths be much the same, 
 Where is the difference as to whence we came ? 
 It seems to me we ought to meet again, 
 Though wise 'uns tell us such ideas are vain.
 
 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 207 
 
 If t'other world must better be than this, 
 
 Why should two friends of earth each other miss ? 
 
 Or why should feelings which below we prize 
 
 Have nought to do with feelings in the skies ? 
 
 If 'tis, why 'tis and nothing's more to say, 
 
 But I may think as well as others may, 
 
 And though my thoughts may make the learned 
 
 stare, 
 I'm certain, Trim, that I shall find thee there.
 
 208 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 
 
 TO ROSA. 
 
 T F spring returned without thy smile, 
 *~ In vain her charms would shine ; 
 Her flowers might other hearts beguile, 
 But could not solace mine. 
 
 Nor sun nor sky could brilliant seem, 
 Though brilliant they might be ; 
 
 Though earth and air with life might teem, 
 'Twere winter still to me ! 
 
 The violet sweet, the lily bright, 
 May each their charms disclose, 
 
 But how can these the heart delight 
 Of him who seeks the Rose ? 
 
 And what the spring? though fresh and fair, 
 
 But nothingness, I ween, 
 Unless thy fairer form be there, 
 
 To grace the glowing scene.
 
 MISCELLANEOUS POEM . 209 
 
 Then do not linger, gentle maid, 
 
 But swift as thought appear, 
 And e'er her other blossoms fade, 
 
 Let spring indeed be here : 
 
 She, lingering still, e'en waits awhile 
 
 One flower with hers to twine, 
 Whose smile makes all more sweetly smile 
 
 The Rose that must be mine !
 
 2io MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 
 
 COMING WINTER. 
 
 AUTUMN soon resigns his reign, 
 * Winter threatens us again; 
 
 Summer's smiles have passed away, 
 Lazy suns cut short the day, 
 
 And the leaves are falling. 
 Something sad there is and chill 
 In those mists that haunt the hill, 
 Something lonely in the light 
 Yielding more and more to night, 
 
 Wind and rain recalling. 
 Retrospection mourns the hour, 
 Glittering in the summer's power : 
 Mourns the genial evening hue, 
 Lingering while the sun withdrew. 
 
 Evening's gold is leaden now 
 Murky clouds are on her brow :
 
 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 211 
 
 Night, at day's too dreary close, 
 Scarcely seems to bring repose. 
 Retrospection ! mourn no more, 
 There are pleasures still before : 
 When the winter leaves the plain, 
 Suns and flowers will smile again. 
 
 Mourn not summer as a friend, 
 
 Whom cold death from friend doth sever, 
 
 Shrouded in his mortal end, 
 
 Gone for ever, and for ever ! 
 
 This brings winter to the heart, 
 
 Sometimes never to depart ; 
 
 This invades the soul with frost, 
 
 This indeed is sunshine lost. 
 
 Summer needs no such adieu, 
 Time will soon his charms renew ; 
 Absence with a quick return, 
 Surely needs no funeral urn. 
 
 Winter, though he seem unkind, 
 Nourishes and feeds the mind :
 
 212 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 
 
 Winter suits with meditation, 
 Draws the heart to contemplation : 
 Were the seasons ever gay, 
 Life would all be laugh ed away ! 
 
 Midst the dark and driving gloom 
 Watchful charity may bloom, 
 And louder as the tempests blow 
 Brighter and more sweet may grow. 
 
 Make such moments, then, thy gain ; 
 Every season has its charms : 
 Cold, with all his pinching train, 
 Hospitality disarms. 
 
 Winter all may be enjoyed, 
 And if time be well employed, 
 When the herbage springs anew, 
 We may bear our blossoms too.
 
 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 213 
 
 OVER THE SNOW. 
 
 WJ HEN Nature lies wrapt in her winter's gear, 
 " * With no smile for the eye, and no song 
 for the ear, 
 When the woods are all barren of leaf and of bird, 
 Or only the robin's shrill note is heard, 
 Through the sleepy cold I love to go, 
 Over the silent snow ! 
 
 When the skies are all gray, and the earth is all 
 
 white, 
 And the days are all drowsy, and dreary the night, 
 When the plough in the frozen furrow stands still, 
 And the sheep are close packed on the side of the 
 hill, 
 Through the sleepy cold I love to go, 
 Over the silent snow !
 
 214 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 
 
 And over the snow, and over the snow, 
 The notes of those distant bells come and go ; 
 In summer's bright noon, or in autumn's gold 
 I never have heard that far-away chime, [prime, 
 But only as through the cold I go, 
 Over the silent snow ! 
 
 Oh ! the winter's white walk is dear to me, 
 With its songless air, and its leafless tree, 
 So strange and so ghostly does everything seem, 
 That I move, as it were, in an arctic dream, 
 As through the sleepy cold I go, 
 Over the silent snow ! 
 
 Or I feel like a child that awakens from sleep, 
 
 In the midnight, while others are slumbering 
 
 deep; 
 It finds itself living, and all alone [own, 
 
 And the thoughts that o'ercome it are often my 
 As through the sleepy cold I go, 
 Over the silent snow !
 
 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 215 
 
 But why can I love, when all Nature lies dead, 
 O'er the dreary landscape alone to tread ? 
 And why in such scenes any joy can I find ? 
 Because I am blessed with a refuge behind 
 
 A house and a hearth to whose warmth I can go 
 When I've wandered enough and the night 
 falls low 
 
 Over the silent snow !
 
 216 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 
 
 MY TWO NIGHTINGALES. 
 
 f~^\ H ! nightingale, art singing to the rose ? 
 ^^ The rose is fast asleep ! 
 
 Dost thou thy note for vacant silence keep, 
 While all around repose ? 
 
 Not so : I sang to all of you by day, 
 
 Ye did not care to hear ; 
 
 A thousand others sang the hours to cheer, 
 My note was thrown away ! 
 
 Those songsters with the setting sun are gone, 
 
 Their heads beneath the wing, 
 
 And, till the rolling world shall morning bring, 
 They sleep, but I sing on. 
 
 How easy to be cheerful in the day ! 
 And life in sunshine spend : 
 So, thousand voices can on joy attend, 
 
 But pass, in grief, away.
 
 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 217 
 
 Hark to my music in the dewy dark ! 
 
 I am the voice of night : 
 
 My melody can live without the light ; 
 I am not like the lark. 
 
 He can the air in sunshine only fill, 
 
 He is the sun's own bird : 
 
 To him he soars and sings, but I am heard 
 When all is dark and still. 
 
 And is there not another voice that thou 
 
 Canst hear when all is still ? 
 
 Is there not one that doth thy silence fill 
 As doth my own voice now ? 
 
 Oh ! nightingale, that note hath probed my soul ; 
 
 I know a voice, indeed, 
 
 That, sweet to me in pleasure and at need, 
 Doth all my heart control. 
 
 By day its music mingles with the rest, 
 
 Delighting those who hear ; 
 
 But when, alone, it meets my midnight ear, 
 What other sound so blest ?
 
 218 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 
 
 E'en more companion of the dark than thou, 
 
 It never flies away ; 
 
 I do not blame thee, no ; thou canst not stay : 
 She cannot leave my bough. 
 
 Oh ! nightingale, still court my woodland shade, 
 
 And let me hear again, 
 
 And still for evermore, the enchanting strain, 
 That thus shall be repaid 
 
 Henceforth when noiseless hours of night prevail, 
 
 And on mine ear there fall 
 
 That other voice, like thine, its note I'll call 
 Note of my nightingale !
 
 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 219 
 
 SUPPOSED TO BE ADDRESSED BY A BASKET OF 
 FLOWERS TO A LADY IN LONDON. 
 
 1 ^ RE yet the rising sun had smiled, 
 ' Or kissed away the dew, 
 A kindless hand the lawn defiled, 
 And snatched us where we grew ; 
 
 Then to this prison sad consigned 
 
 Our blossoms once so gay, 
 And while for lost, loved home we pined, 
 
 Withdrew us far away. 
 
 Do thou, fair maid, with gentler hand 
 
 Thy gentle care bestow, 
 And lend in this, a stranger-land, 
 
 Some solace to our woe. 
 
 If worthy of such bliss we seem, 
 We'll seek a queen in thee,
 
 220 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 
 
 And, filled with water from the stream, 
 Thy vase our home shall be. 
 
 There all our simple art we'll try 
 
 Thy dulness to beguile, 
 We'll court the sunshine of thine eye, 
 
 And imitate thy smile. 
 
 So when our fragrance faints and dies, 
 And here we cease to shine, 
 
 Our blooms in fairyland shall rise, 
 Because we once were thine !
 
 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 
 
 ENIGMA. 
 
 Suggested by a ludicrous omission of the letter " r " in the 
 word "friends" in a marriage announcement. 
 
 T AM a liquid, but to drought belong, 
 
 Though in the right am always in the wrong, 
 Buried in earth, I float aloft in air, 
 Linked with repose, I'm never free from care ; 
 In very midst of torrid heat I roll, 
 In arctic frost, but never reach the Pole, 
 Yet in the sky, at greater distance far, 
 I shine attendant on the Polar Star. 
 With morn I rise, and lead the sun's red ray, 
 But no one ever sees me in the day ; 
 Nor yet in dewy eve I take delight, 
 And though in darkness do not know the night. 
 With double sound I aid old Ocean's roar, 
 Sail with the barque, but never leave the shore ; 
 No river rolls but I control its banks, 
 Soldiers and sailors hail me in their ranks,
 
 222 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 
 
 I always in the battle front appear, 
 
 And in retreat I cover up the rear. 
 
 With Emperor and with Empress I am seen, 
 
 But do not bend to either King or Queen ; 
 
 The lawyer's robe and Westminster I grace, 
 
 But ah ! in Equity I find no place : 
 
 Without me rapid cure was never made, 
 
 Though medicine manages without my aid ; 
 
 I lead religion and am head of Rome, 
 
 Yet midst all Protestants I find a home ; 
 
 Of marriages I must a witness be, 
 
 With heart, or heartless, 'tis the same to me ! 
 
 Sweet with the rose, or savage with the thorn, 
 
 For love or sympathy I was not born ; 
 
 Yet vice my presence never did beguile, 
 
 Truth, honour, virtue, own me with a smile, 
 
 Without me friends are fiends I make fiends 
 
 friends, 
 And more I claim, but here my story ends.
 
 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 223 
 
 TO MISS G . 
 
 With gloves lost in a -wager. 
 
 HAD gloves been lost to me 
 The " number " had been " nine ; " 
 But they were won by thee, 
 And M seven " is thine. 
 
 Had "nine" victorious been, 
 
 The Muses might have sung ; 
 E'en now one moves my pen 
 
 Their choir among. 
 
 " Sevens " in Euterpe's art 
 
 A leading office hold ; 
 But ah ! what sound impart ? 
 
 Be it not told ! 
 
 Nay, tell : not discord wide, 
 
 But soft, and to make agree ; 
 From chord to chord they guide 
 
 Sweet harmony !
 
 224 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 
 
 LIE AND LAY. 
 
 7 AY those roses where she lay. 
 
 Ere their blushing blossoms die ; 
 Ere their perfumes pass away, 
 Be they laid where she did lie. 
 
 None have lien in that shade, 
 None have lain upon that green, 
 
 Where her lovely form she laid, 
 Lying like some sylvan queen. 
 
 We those flowers as we are laying, 
 While for her we all lie sighing, 
 
 Sweets of memory are displaying, 
 Laying them where she lay lying. 
 
 Lo ! she comes again, give way ! 
 
 Lay no more, nor word be said, 
 Lo ! she lies where erst she lay, 
 
 And all beneath her spell lies laid!
 
 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 225 
 
 TO CATHERINE. 
 
 T OW comes it that thy peaceful form 
 A A Should be the herald of a storm ? 
 How comes it that thy beaming eye 
 Should fill me full of agony ? 
 And that sweet voice which, as it flows, 
 Comes like an odour from the rose, 
 Is author of my keenest woes ; 
 And that benignant, peaceful smile, 
 That Nature fashioned to beguile, 
 Stings like a serpent of the Nile ! 
 It is, if aught the heart can prove, 
 It is because I deeply love, 
 And deeply loving, half divine 
 Thy happiness can ne'er be mine. 
 Oh ! speak no more of Cupid's fabled bow, 
 These are the arrows that we lovers know !
 
 226 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 
 
 s 
 
 ACROSTIC TO A LADY. 
 At her request. 
 INCE all must change that smiles or frowns on 
 
 earth, 
 
 As days and nights come round in turn again, 
 Blind were the heart to sigh for constant mirth, 
 If that might be there might be constant pain ; 
 No take thy life as Heaven doth here ordain, 
 A blended picture all of light and shade, 
 And in thy darker moments still retain [vade. 
 
 Links with the past where pleasant thoughts per- 
 Uivine thy future thence, nor be dismayed, 
 Renounce distrust, and in this thought stand fast : 
 If joy and grief must, both alternate, fade, 
 Deceiving sense, delusive to the last, 
 Gather thy comfort from that Hope alone, [known. 
 Each Sage once darkly sought, each Saint hath
 
 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 227 
 
 ANOTHER. 
 
 To a lady, at her request, on her birthday. 
 
 T~"\ EAR is this day, whose presence years ago, 
 ^~"^ Auspicious midst the anxieties of earth, 
 Gilded with joy which only mothers know, 
 Unfeigned joy, the heart that gave thee birth. 
 In life's career thou too hast loved thy child, 
 Long be the love thine offspring bear for thee, 
 And in their sunshine be thy winter mild, 
 Repose awaiting in the world to be !
 
 228 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 
 
 THE SOLDIER'S HEART. 
 
 On the eve of battle. 
 
 T N vain, ye clouds, ye cloak the morn 
 
 With dark foreboding hue, 
 My flashing sword your frowns can scorn, 
 The soldier's heart is true. 
 
 Ye cannot quench the rising ray 
 
 That calls the world to life, 
 Ye cannot tear my hope away, 
 
 Nor rule the fate of strife. 
 
 Lo ! while I gaze, a straggling beam 
 Breaks through yon shroud above, 
 
 And wakens a propitious dream, 
 A retrospect of love. 
 
 One soft, one sacred thought on her 
 Whose heart responds to mine,
 
 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 229 
 
 A smile a prayer but not a tear, 
 While hope, my friend, will shine. 
 
 The ray has passed the thought must cease 
 
 Dread war ! my nerve renew, 
 For here in battle, as in peace, 
 
 The soldier's heart is true.
 
 230 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 
 
 THE TEAR, THE SMILE, AND THE DEWDROP. 
 
 T) RIGHT, glittering, liquid sphere, 
 "*~* Emblem of joy and grief; 
 Thou moving, touching tear, 
 The o'erladen heart's relief; 
 
 While human breast must sigh, 
 
 Oh ! be thy waters near ; 
 Subdue the fevered eye, 
 
 Make sorrow less severe. 
 
 Thou smile, thou tear, ye twain 
 
 How gracefully ye twine ! 
 Like changing sun and rain, 
 
 Alternate cloud and shine. 
 
 Such skies make sweet flowers blow, 
 And sweetly blooms the heart, 
 
 When tears, not bitter, flow, 
 And mingled smiles take part.
 
 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 231 
 
 The dewdrop on the rose, 
 
 What is it but a tear ? 
 A tear from heaven that flows, 
 
 The drooping flower to cheer ; 
 
 Cheering, but weeping too, 
 That the fair flower must die ; 
 
 Oh ! tear, how soft, how true, 
 Falling from heaven's own eye. 
 
 Dewdrop and tear and smile, 
 Blend all in one sweet three : 
 
 Our flowers and hearts beguile, 
 One sisterhood are ye !
 
 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 
 
 TWO WISHES. 
 
 '"T^O-MORROW is our only day of meeting: 
 
 "** Oh ! how I long to meet ; 
 
 With very pain my hoping heart is beating, 
 
 But 'tis a pain that's sweet. 
 
 The moments drawl like hours ; 
 
 Oh ! all ye heavenly powers, 
 
 Whate'er of life doth intervene 
 
 My hope and promised joy between, 
 
 Destroy it ; make to-morrow of to-day ; 
 
 Push Time along let Time run fast away ! 
 
 * * * 
 
 To-morrow's here, and now it is our meeting ; 
 
 Oh ! we have met again ; 
 What earthly paradise appears this greeting ! 
 
 But 'tis a joy with pain. 
 The hours like moments fly ; 
 Oh ! all ye powers on high,
 
 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 233 
 
 Cut short my future if ye will, 
 
 But make my present life stand still : 
 
 The passage toward to-morrow morning stay, 
 
 Rock Time to sleep let Time not run away !
 
 234 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 
 
 VISIT TO THE NOBLE RUINS OF KOM OMBO. 
 
 Standing on an eminence on the east bank oftJie Nile, between 
 Edfou and Assouan, where the river is fast undermining 
 the land. Time, sunset. January 18, 1880. 
 
 T)ASS not my ruin scornful by, 
 -* Nor slight my fractured majesty, 
 Though no such fragments can I show 
 As Karnac's mass that frowns below. 
 High o'er Old Nile my form I rear, 
 I ask no smile, I crave no tear, 
 Yet with the rest I make my claim, 
 As sprung from equal royal name, 
 For I, all shattered as I be, 
 Am proud as they of pedigree. 
 
 Ye who at hour of sunset come 
 To gaze upon my sandy home, 
 To view my precincts all forlorn, 
 That rude iconoclasts have torn,
 
 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 235 
 
 My smothered shafts, my broken brow, 
 
 Never more stern and proud than now, 
 
 As one who, certain of decay, 
 
 Flings every lying hope away, 
 
 If ye my ancient history seek, 
 
 But little can I stoop to speak, 
 
 For why recall my foolish past, 
 
 Since they who reared me could not last ? 
 
 Or why repeat my brilliant story, 
 
 If grand in ruin as in glory ? 
 
 Well ! my vast fabric was designed 
 
 To overawe the Egyptian mind : 
 
 The gods of darkness and of light, 
 
 Those spirits of opposing might, 
 
 Claimed worship in my solemn fane ; 
 
 But all was superstition vain, 
 
 Which novel creeds have swept away, 
 
 To claim, in turn, their passing day. 
 
 Flow, Nile, to undermine the land 
 Whereon my yet left ruins stand, 
 Flow, Time, to work thy constant ill, 
 To my last stone I'm steadfast still !
 
 236 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 
 
 Long, long, my god of light has flown, 
 My god of darkness reigns alone ! 
 And stranger, go ! night falls, and soon, 
 All silvered by the staring moon, 
 A ghostly light like life shall pour 
 Where darkness doth become far more. 
 
 Go, stranger, go ! and leave on high 
 Kom Ombo towering to the sky, 
 And if, perchance, your friends among 
 My name should move your wondering tongue, 
 Then this my vengeful word recall, 
 I nurse while tottering to my fall, 
 When blankness shall my throne possess, 
 Old Nile shall boast one glory less !
 
 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 237 
 
 THE DYING PALM TREE. 
 
 While waiting at Bellianeh, to start for Abydus, one of the 
 ladies on board sketched a fine palm tree, which fell into 
 the river from being undermined , just as she had finished 
 her picture. 
 
 T FLOURISHED on the banks of Nile, 
 
 Who smiled and flowed for years below, 
 But all deceptive was his smile, 
 And all destructive was his flow. 
 
 One morning, when he seemed most kind, 
 And I stood dreaming 'neath the spell, 
 
 My roots his waters undermined, 
 And, swept to his embrace, I fell ! 
 
 But fate was kind in one regard, 
 It lingered, while with friendly eye 
 
 Fair Art to trace my form appeared, 
 And gave me immortality ! 
 
 February 6, 1 8 80.
 
 2^8 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 
 
 TEE RETURN OF THE PILGRIMS FROM MECCA 
 TO CAIRO, FEBRUARY 16, 1880. 
 
 A SPIRIT stood apart to view the scene, 
 
 Having no right to thrust his form between, 
 While through Old Cairo's streets there poured 
 
 along 
 A large, devout, returning Pilgrims' throng. 
 From Mecca's Sacred City, lo ! they came, 
 Where, as the Prophet bade, in Allah's name, 
 The Veil upon the Kaabah they had laid, 
 A tribute, as of old, by Cairo paid. 
 The Canopy a stately camel bore, 
 Wherein the veil they gave the year before, 
 And now brought back, with solemn care was laid, 
 Safe to the citadel to be conveyed. 
 Here in Mohammed Ali's Mosque it lies, 
 Whose minarets as Cairo's landmark rise,
 
 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 239 
 
 Till word is given its substance to divide, 
 
 When thousand " Faithful " claim their share with 
 
 pride. 
 The day in all festivity was spent, [went. 
 
 And crowds pressed round and hailed them as they 
 
 So, many years ago, in German lands, 
 This self-same Spirit followed Pilgrim bands, 
 Who by fair Mosel's banks pursued their way 
 To Treves' Old City, sacred vows to pay. 
 Here thousands more appeared from every side, 
 For Europe's every country poured its tide ; 
 Here they all came their Prophet's Coat to view, 
 The "Holy Coat" that with His body grew; 
 Miraculous in texture as in power, 
 And hung for healing touch for many an hour, 
 While, all the sacred miracles to prove, 
 Behold the votive crutches ranged above ! 
 
 And thus the Spirit, when in Cairo, thought 
 To what high pitch man's mind by man is wrought ! 
 We know not whence we came or whither go, 
 And to the end it must be always so ;
 
 240 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 
 
 Hence many a tender and dependent mind 
 
 Is anxious some Protecting Power to find, 
 
 To whom it may appeal, by prayer and praise, 
 
 Its fears to banish and its hopes to raise. 
 
 Such Faith, while simple, may be left alone, 
 
 Thousands of honest hearts its influence own ; 
 
 But Faith develops dogmas rear a school, 
 
 Where Superstition arrogates the rule, 
 
 Whence gods and prophets to exist began, 
 
 Miracles, Christian or Mahometan. 
 
 Be He, or be He not, all lies concealed, 
 
 Yet some have claimed His voice and form revealed, 
 
 Whence, step by step, Scholastic Faiths have grown, 
 
 Wherein mere crabbed wrangling hath been shown. 
 
 These have one common source the human 
 
 brain 
 And deepest dreamers but confusion gain, 
 And though our scanty knowledge we deplore, 
 All are pretenders who pretend to more. 
 E'en so the Spirit ends as he began, 
 Developed Faiths make man the slave of man.
 
 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 241 
 
 STANZAS. 
 
 "\/E must be beautiful, ye shades, 
 
 "* Thou must be fair, thou winding stream, 
 Whose peaceful breast no barque invades, 
 Whose waters wander like a dream ; 
 
 For oft at morn, and noon, and eve 
 On all your charms my heart hath dwelt ; 
 
 Yet now, it costs me to believe 
 
 'Twas here I such enchantment felt. 
 
 We live but as we feel and see, 
 We change with every change around ; 
 
 We see and feel but as we be, 
 
 As we are struck, return the sound. 
 
 We are but flowers that bloom by day, 
 And close their petals up by night ; 
 
 Some cloud but shades some joy away, 
 The heart, responsive, feels the blight.
 
 242 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 
 
 In pangs of absence I deplore 
 A voice unheard, a form unseen ; 
 
 Oh ! shades and stream, ye charm no more, 
 Unhaunted by your Sylvan Queen !
 
 MISCELLANEOUS TRANSLATIONS.
 
 244 MISCELLANEOUS TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 O POET A PORTUGUEZ, BOCCAGE, A MEMORIA 
 DAS VICTORIAS DE LORD NELSON SOBRE 
 OS FRANCESES. 
 
 /^*0M diadema de luz no Elysio entrava 
 ^~- y Involto Nelson em sanguineo manto : 
 Causou nos Manes desusado espanto, 
 E a turva dos heroes o rodeava. 
 Grita Alexandre, e nelle os olhos crava, 
 Quem es que entre mortaes fulguras tanto? 
 Sou, lhe d : z, quem remio de vil quebranto 
 Europa curva, oppressa e quasi escrava ; 
 Deixei de sangue o pego rubicundo ; 
 Tropheos no meu sepulcro a Patria arvora ; 
 Raio ardi sobre o Gallo furibundo ! 
 Nisto de novo o Macedonio chora : 
 Quem immensa extensao venceo do mundo 
 Quem vencera um so povo inveja agora.
 
 MISCELLANEOUS TRANSLATIONS. 245 
 
 THE PORTUGUESE POET, BOGCAGE, TO THE 
 MEMORY OF LORD NELSONS VICTORIES 
 OVER THE FRENCH. 
 
 \\T ITH diadem of light, [the fight, 
 
 And wrapt in blood-stained mantle from 
 Nelson into Elysium came. 
 The Ghosts are moved with strange amaze, 
 The host of heroes flock around to gaze. 
 Who art thou, Alexander cries, 
 Fixing intent on him his eyes, 
 Who among mortals shinest with such fame ? 
 'Tis I, quoth he, who from vile thraldom saved 
 Europe bowed down, oppressed, almost enslaved ; 
 Incarnadined with blood I left the wave ; 
 My country raises trophies o'er my grave ; 
 A bolt upon the furious Gaul I threw 
 On this the Macedonian weeps anew ; 
 He who of earth vast regions taught to bow, 
 The conqueror of one people only envies now.
 
 246 MISCELLANEOUS TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 THE ERLKING. 
 
 Goethe. 
 
 W 7" HO rides so late through the night wind 
 
 * * wild? 
 It is the father, and with him his child ; 
 He holds the wrapt boy in his careful arm, 
 He guards him safely, he keeps him warm. 
 
 My son ! why so timidly hidest thine eye? 
 Oh ! seest thou not, father, the Erlking nigh ? 
 The Erlking with crown and with train so proud ? 
 My boy, it is only a streaming cloud ! 
 
 " Thou dearest boy, come go with me, 
 Oh ! glorious sport will I make for thee : 
 My country is bright with gay flowers untold, 
 My mother has many a robe of gold ! " 
 
 My father, my father, and dost thou not hear 
 What Erlking promises, close to mine ear?
 
 MISCELLANEOUS TRANSLATIONS. 247 
 
 Be still, my own boy ; lie still ; 'tis the wind 
 That rustles among the dry leaves behind ! 
 
 " Oh ! beautiful boy, wilt thou go with me ? 
 My daughters shall cherish thee tenderly ; 
 My daughters that sport in the midnight ring 
 Shall rock thee, and nurse thee, and dance and 
 sing ! " 
 
 My father, my father, and seest thou not there 
 Erlking's daughters glide through the dark air? 
 My son, my son, I see all in our way, 
 'Tis the aged willows that shine so gray ! 
 
 " I love thee ! I'm charmed by thy beautiful form, 
 And art thou not willing, I'll seize thee by storm ! " 
 My father, my father, I'm stricken all o'er ; 
 Oh ! Erlking indeed hath hurt me sore ! 
 
 The father shudders and swiftly he rides, 
 His moaning child in his arms he hides : 
 He reaches his home with toil, and in dread 
 There in his arms the child was dead !
 
 248 MISCELLANEOUS TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 DU BIST WIE EINE BLUME. 
 (Heine.) 
 
 'T^HOU art like any flower, 
 
 So kind, so fair, so chaste ! 
 I gaze on thee, and sorrow 
 Within my heart is traced ! 
 
 As if I should, with hand 
 Upon thy head inclined, 
 
 Pray unto God to keep thee 
 So chaste, so fair, so kind !
 
 MISCELLANEOUS TRANSLATIONS. 249 
 
 HOSPITAL PRACTICE IN FRANCE. 
 
 (Voltaire.) 
 
 T A, le long de ces lits ou gemit le malheur, 
 
 ' Victime des secours plus que de la douleur, 
 L'ignorance en courant fait sa ronde homicide, 
 L'indifference observe et le hazard decide. 
 
 In those long wards where sighs from patients flow, 
 Victims of succour rather than of woe, 
 Through her cool round of murder Ignorance glides, 
 Indifference observes, and Chance decides.
 
 250 MISCELLANEOUS TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 HORACE. 
 Carm. I. xxxviii. 
 
 "|3 OY, all your Persian ornaments I hate ; 
 ^-^ Crowns woven with the philyra displease ; 
 Retreats where still the lingering rose blooms late, 
 
 You need not seek for these. 
 Nought, 1 insist, with simple myrtle twine ; 
 The myrtle cannot unbecoming be 
 To me, while drinking 'neath my mantling vine, 
 
 Nor thee, while serving me. 
 
 Carm. III. ix. 
 HORACE. 
 While pleasing in thy heart I moved, 
 Nor other courtier, more beloved, 
 Round thy white neck his arm did fling, 
 I flourished happier than the Persians' king.
 
 MISCELLANEOUS TRANSLATIONS. 251 
 
 LYDIA. 
 
 While thou no other flame didst prove, 
 
 Nor Lydia less than Chloe love, 
 
 Lydia, of fair resounding name, 
 
 I shone with more than Roman Ilia's fame. 
 
 HORACE. 
 
 Me Cretan Chloe governs now, 
 
 Skilled o'er the harp her hand to throw ; 
 
 For whom I would not fear to die, 
 
 If Fate would harmless pass her spirit by. 
 
 LYDIA. 
 
 Me Thurian Calais doth admire, 
 
 I claim him with a mutual fire ; 
 
 For whom I twice could bear to die, 
 
 If Fate, dear youth, would pass him harmless by. 
 
 HORACE. 
 
 What if our love revive again, 
 
 And bind us in a lasting chain ? 
 
 Were flaxen Chloe loved no more, 
 
 And slighted Lydia welcomed to my door ?
 
 !52 MISCELLANEOUS TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 LYDIA. 
 
 Though he were brighter than a star, 
 Thou, lighter e'en than cork, and far 
 More angry than the Adrian Sea, 
 I'd love to live, I'd cheerful die, with thee !
 
 MISCELLANEOUS TRANSLATIONS. 253 
 
 OLD EPIGRAM ON THE BIBLE. 
 
 Hie Liber est in quo quserit sua dogmata quisque, 
 Invenit et pariter dogmata quisque sua. 
 
 This is the Book where each doth seek 
 
 The dogma to his mind ; 
 And where, in common, truth to speak, 
 
 Each doth his dos:ma find. 
 
 I RINTED BY BALLANTYNE, HANSON AND CO. 
 LONDON AND EDINBURGH
 
 RECENTLY PUBLISHED. 
 
 THE LUSIADS OF CAMOENS. 
 
 Portuguese Text, with Translation by J. J. AUBERTIN. 
 With Map and Portraits. 2 vols. Demy 8vo. Price 30J. 
 
 Mr. Aubertin has translated without paraphrase, always verse by 
 verse, even preserving those beauties of figurative grammatical expres- 
 sion which belong so specially to Camoens, so much so that they are 
 called Camonianisms, and are the characteristics of a school. Although 
 other translations may appear, Mr. Aubertin's translation is definite. 
 It will be difficult to equal the author's interpretation of the Portuguese 
 text, or surpass the faithfulness and poetical colouring of this transla- 
 tion, which may be justly considered a revelation of Camoens. A 
 revelation, because Mr. Aubertin has proved that he can reproduce 
 what is most difficult to preserve in foreign language, viz., the national 
 sentiment. A thenaum. 
 
 The later translation by Mr. Aubertin, daintily decorated and printed, 
 is the work of a writer whose long residence amongst those who speak 
 the idiom Fanshawe terms " uncourted," and in which Camoens wrote, 
 entitles him to claim no mean authority as a translator of Portugal's 
 Epic. . . . Mr. Aubertin has fulfilled his promise, keeping his muse 
 well in hand. . . . We trust that Mr. Aubenin may be induced to give 
 us a complete translation of Camoens' minor works. His Rimas deserve 
 an English dress. Saturday Review. 
 
 It behoves us to give this translation unmeasured and unstinted 
 praise. It is nearly always elegant and pleasing, and it is close and 
 faithful to a degree which is almost unparalleled. We thank him heartily 
 for the honest piece of literary work which he has produced, and con- 
 gratulate him upon the complete success which has crowned his efforts 
 as a translator. It would be >uperfluous to say a word more on this head ; 
 and English students of Portuguese literature will turn again and again 
 with gratitude to a translation which has done for them the same ;;ood 
 service which Hayward's "Faust" and Dr. Carlyle's "Inferno" have 
 done for students of German and Italian literature. Spectator.
 
 Mr. Aubenin is by no means the first English interpreter of Camoens, 
 but he is no doubt the best. . . . The metre adopted by Mr. Aubertin 
 is that of the origin ll, the Ottava Rima, which he handles with con- 
 siderable skill. Pall Mall Gazette. 
 
 Mr. Aubertin's version has a claim to high praise. Mr. Aubertin has 
 given with remarkable success the local colour of his original. Having 
 printed the Portuguese text, so that it can be conveniently compared 
 stanza by stanza with his translation, he comes well out of the compari- 
 son which he his courted. His general fidelity is exemplary ; and he 
 has employed the necessary processes of modification and compensation 
 with remarkable prudence. Guardian. 
 
 Mr. J. J. Aubertin has really for the first time placed this famous 
 Epic within the reach of English readers who are unacquainted with the 
 Portuguese language. Daily Nevis. 
 
 Mr. Aubertin brings a finer talent and a more exacting critical sense 
 to his work. He not only gives a fair line for line translation, but in 
 his metre and rhyme really manages to convey much of the charrr of 
 the original. It is beyond our space to go into detailed criticism, but 
 we would particularly cite the opening portion of the second ana the 
 closing portion of thclast canto. As the original is given on the one 
 page and the translation on the other, the student has before him a very 
 choice text-book if he chooses to make it so ; and certainly, with its 
 imitation handwove paper and its tasteful binding, it may be said, in all 
 that pertains to the publisher's part, to vie with the very choicest books 
 that have recently fallen from the English press. British Quarterly. 
 
 To us Mr. Aubertin's reads as a work of unexampled regularity, and 
 this, considering the versions we possess of tne " Lusiads," is a very dis- 
 tinct praise. . . . To give an adequate sample of Mr. Aubertin's con- 
 tinuous excellence in his own well-considered line, is of course for us 
 impossible. Notes and Queries. 
 
 Mr. Aubertin has, without hyperbole, done his work splendidly; 
 fettered as he was by the impossibility of reproducing the effect of the 
 feminine rhymes, he has yet given the full force and not a little of the 
 music of the original. ... It may frankly be said anybody who is 
 capable of compiling original with translation must allow this that Mr. 
 Aubenin is the first to give to our nation an adequate rendering of one 
 of the noblest epics of our eta. . . . For delicate fancy, too, the 
 episode of the enchanted island, with the pursuit of the nymphs, may 
 be as highly commended in Mr. Aubertin's version as in the original, 
 which is saying a good deal. . . . We have to thank Mr. Aubertin for 
 a rare literary treat, and to compliment him upon having added a valu- 
 able work to our British Poetical Library ; and it may be added, that the 
 system f printing Portuguese and English stanzas side by side will make 
 the work cosmopolitan, which is no small gain. Graphic. 
 
 These beautiful volumes will be a very grant gain to all lovers of 
 general literature. . . . Mr. Aubertin has brought great poetic facility 
 to bear upon his task, and has executed it with very great taste. The 
 Preface alone is well worthy of perusal, and the accuracy and beauty of 
 the translation can be easily tested by Portuguese scholars, the original 
 and the translation being printed side by side. Liverpool Albion. 
 
 London: C. KLGAN PAUL & CO., i Patbrnostkr Square. 
 
 *& 
 
 u
 
 University of <,'5? v , 4CIL i-ry 
 SOUTHERN G.ONAU^ARV FAOLITY^ 
 
 trim which ItwMborrowad.
 
 PQ9196 S7 1881 
 
 Camoes, Luiz de, 15247-1580 
 
 Seventy sonnets of Camoens. 
 
 REGIONAL LIBRARY FACILITY 
 
 A A 0001107390 
 
 UNIVERSITY OF CA.. RIVERSIDE LIBRARY 
 
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