Do you not know that by the term call'd life, We mean to give a softer tone to ills That man is heir to? Whether I judge right Or wrong in this, I'll not presume to say— Having reflected long and seriously, To this conclusion I am brought at last, That universal folly governs all; For in this little life of ours, we seem As strangers that have left their native home. We make our first appearance from the realms Of death and darkness, and emerge to light, And join th' assembly of our fellow-men— They who enjoy themselves the most, and drink, And laugh, and banish care, or pass the day In the soft blandishments of love, and leave No joy untasted, no delight untried That innocence and virtue may approve, And this gay festival afford, depart Cheerful, like guests contented, to their home.—ANON. * * * * * SAPPHO. (Book xi. § 9, p. 731.) Come, Venus, come! Hither with thy golden cup, Where nectar-floated flowerets swim! Fill, fill the goblet up! These laughing lips shall kiss the brim— Come, Venus, come!—ANON. * * * * * PYTHEAS. (Book xi. § 14, p. 734.) Here jolly Pytheas lies, A right honest man, and wise, Who of goblets had very great store, Of amber, silver, gold, All glorious to behold, In number ne'er equall'd before.—J. A. ST. JOHN. * * * * * AUTHOR OF THE THEBAIS. (Book xi. § 14, p. 735.) Then Polyneices of the golden locks, Sprung from the gods, before his father placed A table all of silver, which had once Been Cadmus's, next fill'd the golden bowl With richest wine. At this old Œdipus, Seeing the honour'd relics of his sire Profaned to vulgar uses, roused to anger, Pronounced fierce imprecations, wish'd his sons Might live no more in amity together, But plunge in feuds and slaughters, and contend For their inheritance: and the Furies heard.—J. A. ST. JOHN. * * * * * (Book xi. § 19, p. 738.) Troy's lofty towers by Grecians sack'd behold! Parrhasios' draught, by Mys engraved in gold.—J. A. ST. JOHN. * * * * * SOPATER. (Book xi. § 28, p. 742.) 'Tis sweet in early morn to cool the lips With pure fresh water from the gushing fount, Mingled with honey in the Baucalis, When one o'er night has made too free with wine, And feels sharp thirst.—J. A. ST. JOHN. * * * * * ALEXIS. (Book xi. § 30, p. 743.)