O vita, tantum lubricus quidam furor Spoliumque vitae! scilicet longi brevis Erroris hospes! Error ô mortalium! O certus error! qui sub incerto vagum Suspendit aevum, mille per dolos viae 5 Fugacis, et proterva per volumina Fluidi laboris, ebrios lactat gradus; Et irretitos ducit in nihilum dies. O fata! quantum perfidae vitae fugit Umbris quod imputemus atque auris, ibi 10 Et umbra et aura serias partes agunt Miscentque scenam, volvimur ludibrio Procacis aestus, ut per incertum mare Fragilis protervo cymba cum nutat freto; Et ipsa vitae fila, queis nentes Deae 15 Aevi severa texta producunt manu, Haec ipsa nobis implicant vestigia, Retrahunt trahuntque, donec everso gradu Ruina lassos alta deducat pedes. Felix, fugaces quisquis excipiens dies 20 Gressus serenos fixit, insidiis sui Nec servit aevi, vita inoffensis huic Feretur auris, atque clauda rarius Titubabit hora: vortices anni vagi Hic extricabit, sanus assertor sui. 25 TRANSLATION. DESCRIPTION OF HUMAN LIFE. O Life, or but some evanescent madness And glittering spoil of life snatch'd with blind gladness! Of endless Error, transitory guest; Sad human Error, which would fain find rest. O certain Error, 'neath uncertain sky Suspending here our frail mortality; Leading us through a thousand devious ways And intricacies of a treacherous maze! Our staggering footsteps how dost thou beguile Through wanton rounds of unavailing toil, And our entangl'd days to nothing bring! O fates, how much of our poor life takes wing, Wasted on winds and shadows! On life's stage Shadows and winds a serious part engage, The scene confusing. On life's billow tost, The sport of changeful tide, we're well-nigh lost, And, like a frail boat on a stormy sea, We waver up and down uncertainly. Nay, e'en the threads spun by the Fates on high, As with stern fingers they divinely ply The web of life, twine round us as we go, And draw us backwards, forwards, to and fro; Till Ruin trips us up, and we are found Helpless and weary, stretched along the ground. Happy the man who, welcoming each day With smiles that answer to its fleeting ray, Pursues with step serene his purpos'd way; The alluring snares peculiar to the age _His_ soul enslave not, nor his mind engage; His life with peaceful tenor glides along, By fav'ring breezes fann'd, and sooth'd with song; Inspir'd by Heaven with soul-sustaining force, Seldom he falls, or falters in his course; But ever, as the eddying years roll round, Bursting through all the perils that abound, A wise assertor of himself is found. R. WI. IN PYGMALIONA.