2 I have translated only two of the three poetical compliments addressed to Leonora, as they appear to me far superior to what I have omitted.--W.C. Another to the Same. Another Leonora1 once inspir'd Tasso, with fatal love to frenzy fir'd, But how much happier, liv'd he now, were he, Pierced with whatever pangs for love of Thee! Since could he hear that heavenly voice of thine, With Adriana's lute2 of sound divine, Fiercer than Pentheus'3 tho' his eye might roll, Or idiot apathy benumb his soul, You still, with medicinal sounds, might cheer His senses wandering in a blind career; 10 And sweetly breathing thro' his wounded breast, Charm, with soul-soothing song, his thoughts to rest. 1 Leonora d'Este, supposed lover of Torquato Tasso. 2 Adriana Baroni, who accompanied her daughter on the lute. 3 A mad Theban king. Another to the Same. Naples, too credulous, ah! boast no more The sweet-voiced Siren buried on thy shore, That, when Parthenope1 deceas'd, she gave Her sacred dust to a Chalcidic2 grave, For still she lives, but has exchanged the hoarse Pausilipo for Tiber's placid course, Where, idol of all Rome, she now in chains, Of magic song both Gods and Men detains. 1 One of the Sirens. 2 From Chalcis, whence the Greek colonies of South Italy came. The Fable of the Peasant and his Landlord.1 A Peasant to his lord yearly court, Presenting pippins of so rich a sort That he, displeased to have a part alone, Removed the tree, that all might be his own. The tree, too old to travel, though before So fruitful, withered, and would yield no more. The squire, perceiving all his labour void, Cursed his own pains, so foolishly employed, And "Oh," he cried, "that I had lived content With tribute, small indeed, but kindly meant! 10 My avarice has expensive proved to me, Has cost me both my pippins and my tree." 1 Added to the Elegies in the I673 edition. 2. POEMS IN VARIOUS METRES On the Death of the Vice-Chancellor, A Physician.1 Learn ye nations of the earth The condition of your birth, Now be taught your feeble state, Know, that all must yield to Fate! If the mournful Rover, Death, Say but once-resign your breath- Vainly of escape you dream, You must pass the Stygian stream. Could the stoutest overcome Death's assault, and baffle Doom, 10 Hercules had both withstood Undiseas'd by Nessus' blood.2 Ne'er had Hector press'd the plain By a trick of Pallas slain, Nor the Chief to Jove allied3 By Achilles' phantom died. Could enchantments life prolong, Circe, saved by magic song, Still had liv'd, and equal skill Had preserv'd Medea still.4 20 Dwelt in herbs and drugs a pow'r To avert Man's destin'd hour, Learn'd Machaon5 should have known Doubtless to avert his own. Chiron had survived the smart Of the Hydra-tainted dart,6 And Jove's bolt had been with ease Foil'd by Asclepiades.7