New-York tribune. [volume] (New York [N.Y.]) 1866-1924, 1872-12-20

Which duly I've prepared, to sty gan Jove;
And end my griels by giving to the flames
This Trojans image, on his funeral pile"
The aged nurse quickens her feeble steps.
But Dido, trembling. wild with brooding DER
Her dread design, rolling her blood-shot eyes,
Her quvering cheeks sufused with spots, bursts
The inner threshold OF the house, and mounts
With frantic men the lofty funeral pile,
Unsheathes the Troians sw0rd,-a gift not sought
For Use like this then, having gazed upon
Tho Ilian garments and the well-knOwn bed,
she paused a little full of tears and thoughts
Threw herself on the couch, ana these last words
Escaped sweet recs,-dear To me when fate
And heaven were kind! Receive this life-blood now,
And free me from these sorrows! have lived,
Aud have achieved the course that fortune gave.
And now of me the queenly shade snail pass
Beneath the earth. city OF nigh ren0wn
! have founded, and have seen my walls ascend;
Avenged my husband,-for my brothers crime
Rcqultal seen; happy. too happy alas,
Had the Dardanian fleet ne'er touched my shores ~
With that she pressed her face upon the couch;
snail die unavenged yet, let me dlel
Thus thus Z is joy TO seek the shades below.
These flames the cruel Trojan on the sea
SIan drink in with his eyes ana bear away
Along with him the omens OF my dcath!'
While thus she spoke the attendants saw her fall
Upon the steel and the sword frothed with blood,
That spurted on her hands. Loud camor nils
The lofty halls The runOr OF the deed
Raves through the shaken city. Every house
ReSOund with grief and grOans, ana wOmens shrieks
And all the air is filed with walling tones
AS though all Carthage or the ancient Tyre
Were topping down before their invading foes,
Aud over roofs and temples of the gods
The flames were rolling.
Breathless, terrified,
With trembling steps, her sister hears, and through
The crowd she PUSHES with her nails she rends
Her face, and with her hands she beats her breast,
And calls upon the dying queen by name -
" Was this thy meaning sister Hast thou thus
Deceived met Was Il this, that funeral pile,
And this, those atarires prepared for me
Deserted now. what first snail depOre
Dd'st spurn sister near thee in thy death9
Had'st thou but summoned me 10 share this fate.
one grief, hour should here have stabbed us both
Yea with these hands built this pile, and called
ITfoYf n1r op1fuf rVfc UOnc at IN ~
ThereOn,-and I, an cruel, Dot be there
Myself and thee, o sister thou hast slam,
Thy people ana the Tyran fathers all,
And thy proud city. Give me-let me battle
Her wounds with water, and II any breath
Yet tckers, | Will catch 1t with my hpS"
So SAYING she assembled the high steps,
And claspcd her dying sister in her arms
And moaning fOnded her upon her breast,
Aud sought 10 stanch the black blood with her robe
The queen her heavy eyeds tried to raise.
Aud backward fell The wound beneath her breast
Gurged with blood. Three times she raised herself
Upon her elbow leaning; and three times
She sank upon the couch.-her wandering eyes
Turned 10 the blue sky, seeking for the Light
And when she found II, gr0dned.
Great Juno, then,
Plying her lingering agony and death,
Sent Iris from Olympus down, to free
For since by fate she persisted not, nor death
Deserved, but was made wretched ere her time,
And by sudden madness hred, not yet
Proserpina had shOrn the golden lock
From of her head nor to the sIygan gloom
Condemned her Therefore Iris, dewy soft,
Upon her safrOn-colored pini0ns borne,
And flashing with a Thousand varied hues
Above her head. and said: This lock bear
Away, sacred to Dis; such my commando
And free thee from that body" Saying this,
She cuts the rlnglet. And the vital heat
Exhales, aud in the winds life floats away.
Our last extract shall be from the prophecy of An
hses. in which he relates to Eneas the fate of the
loung Marcelus, afording to the translator an OPP
,ortunity which he has not failed to make good
f. of expressing the pathetic sentiment of the scene
n language of Roman dignity.
So spoke Anchises, while they wondering stood;
And then resumes: d" See whore Marcellus moves.
Glorious with his triumphal spOs. and towers
Ger all. victor He the Roman state
Shall keep from tottering. in tumutuous days.
He, armed and hOTsed, shall over hrOw the power
OF Carthaginia and rebelous Gaul;
And the third captured trophy shall hang up,
An Offering 10 his father ROnulus.'
But here Eneas spoke: for now he saw
Beside the hero, clad Glitteung arms.
A youth in form aud face exceeding fair:
But sad his brow, with iOyless ewes cast down -
o father. who Is he who there attends
The hero's stepsl His son, one else
OF his illustriOus line descended Hark,
What muTmurIDg sounds surround him as he moves!
How noble is his men! But gloomy Night
With shadows sad Is towering round his head"
To whom Anchises weeping floods OF tears,
Made answer: 80 my SON. seek not TO know
The heavy sOrrows OF thy race! This youth
The Fates will only show little while
On earth. nor will permit "a longer STAY.
Too potent would the Roman race have seemed
To you, we gods, had such gifts been our own.
Near Mars his mighty city or what gloom
OF funeral pomp shalt thou, Tlber see.
When gliding by his new-raised mound OF death!
No youth OF Ian race shall ever lift
To such high nights OF hope the Latan sires;
Nor Rome shall boast henceforth so dear a child.
Alas for virtue and the ancient faith
Alas, the strong hands unsubdued in warl
No enemy could ever have opposed
His sword unscathed, whether on foot he charged,
Or spurred his fOaming steed against the foe
All, dear lamented boy, can'st thou but break
The stern DEGREES OF fate, then wilt thou be
Our own MaTcelluS!-GlYe me Niles, brought
In heaping handfuls. Let me scatter here
Dark purple flowers these offerings at least
To my descendants shade fain would pay,
Though now, alas, an unayaiiing rite'
We do not hesitate to give the preference to Mr.
Jranoh's version over any translation of the Rneid
With which we are acquainted. The work of Dryden
a noble poem, stately i'll measure and affluent in
,xpression but he wrote under the restrictions of
hyme and was thus often compelled TO substitute
he suggestions of lis fancy for fathfulness to
he original. Professor COningtOn brought pro-
ound study of the Greek and Latin classics, and no
nconsiderable power of versifcation to the execu-
ion of his comparatively recent version but the
fatal facility" of the Octosyllabic meter which had
)layed so splendid part in the hands of Byron and
scott, seduced him from perfect allegiance to his
master, and as Mr.. Cranch remarks while missing
he graceful sweep of VirgiPs lines, he reads too
much like sort of classical Sir Walter Mr.. Cranch
N the other hand has wisely secured the advantage
# freedom from the shackles of rhyme. He has
hus been enabled to devote his remarkable COM
nand of poetic expression to the illustration of
Virgil, rather than from the necessities of the occa
ion, TO weave his personal fancies into the sweet
nd majestic texture of the original. His work is
Tot only splendid memorial of his own genius, but
worthy representation of the immortal Roman bard.
HARPER AND SCRIBNER.
CHRISTMAS TALK-FRoUDE AND BURKE-IN-