"LET US TURN HITHERWARD OUR BARK.” "LET us turn hitherward our bark," they cried, "And, 'mid the blisses of this happy isle, Past toil forgetting and to come, abide And then, refreshed, our tasks resume again, O heroes, that had once a nobler aim, O heroes, sprung from many a god-like line, What will ye do, unmindful of your fame, And of your race divine? Ω πέπονες, κάκ ̓ ἐλέγχε, ̓Αχαιίδες, οὐκέτ' Αχαιοί. QUIN huc," fremebant, "dirigimus ratem: Hic, dote læti divitis insulæ, Paullisper hæremus, futuri Nec memores operis, nec acti: "Curas refecti cras iterabimus, Si qua supersunt emeritis novæ : Canitiem pelagi carina." O rebus olim nobilioribus Pares origo Dî quibus ac Deæ Heröes! oblitine famæ Hæc struitis, generisque summi? But they, by these prevailing voices now Or seeing, feared not-warning taking none From the plain doom of all who went before, Whose bones lay bleaching in the wind and sun, And whitened all the shore. R. C. TRENCH. Atqui propinquant jam magis ac magis, Ducti magistra voce, solum : neque Videre prorarum nefandas Fragmina nobilium per oras; Vidisse seu non pœnitet-ominis Incuriosos tot præëuntium, Quorum ossa sol siccantque venti, Candet adhuc quibus omnis ora. CENONE. O MOTHER, hear me yet before I die. TENNYSON. |