Ye nightingales! that ’mid thick leaves set loose The gushing gurgle of your sorrow, tell The fountains of Sicilian Arethuse That Bion is no more; with Bion fell The song—the music of the Dorian shell. Ye swans of Strymon! now your banks along Your plaintive throats with melting dirges swell, For him who sang like you the mournful song; Discourse of Bion’s death the Thracian nymphs among— The Dorian Orpheus, tell them all, is dead. His herds the song and darling herdsman miss, And oaks, beneath whose shade he propped his head. Oblivion’s ditty now he sings for Dis; The melancholy mountain silent is; His pining cows no longer wish to feed, But moan for him; Apollo wept, I wis, For thee, sweet Bion! and in mourning weed The brotherhood of Fauns and all the Satyr breed. The tears by Naiads shed are brimful bourns; Afflicted Pan thy stifled music rues; Lorn Echo ’mid her rocks thy silence mourns, Nor with her mimic tones thy voice renews; The flowers their bloom, the trees their fruitage lose; No more their milk the drooping ewes supply; The bees to press their honey now refuse; What need to gather it and lay it by, When thy own honey-lip, my Bion! thine is dry?” CHAPMAN. =The Museum.=—While the Muses who fled with the spirit of Philemon were never induced to return to Hellas, in the East the Greek mind, stimulated by the architectural wonders, the new religious systems, the proficiency in many departments of knowledge, which it encountered, entered upon a new phase of development. Alexandria witnessed its proudest achievements in science. This city was embellished with temples and palaces, with parks, fountains, and monuments, until it eclipsed in beauty all others of its time. Our interest, however, centres in its marble Muse’um, or Temple of the Muses, begun by the first Ptolemy and finished by his son Philadelphus, which sent forth the greatest scientists of antiquity. In its halls, those hungering for knowledge were more than satisfied; up and down its corridors the professors walked as they gave instruction; while its botanical and zoölogical gardens afforded opportunities for delightful relaxation. An observatory and the best astronomical instruments of the day invited to the study of the heavens, and a dissecting-room was at the disposal of the anatomist. Chemical investigations were facilitated by a laboratory, where thus early the science of alchemy was born, and Philadelphus himself eagerly experimented in search of the elixir of life. To this brilliant centre of letters, the first university in the world, learned men were attracted from all quarters. At one time, 14,000 students were under instruction.