Pagina:Ad Alpes.djvu/254

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Haec pagina emendata et bis lecta est
Page 41
(Ovid, Met. xi. 538-542)
As many as the dashing waves,
Death’s terrors seem to sweep their souls;
One weeps, another stands amazed,
A third mourns loss of funeral doles.
Lo, yonder one to prayer hath turned,
With hands upraised to leaden sky;
In vain he calls for heaven’s aid,
No answering portent greets his cry.

Page 46
(Catullus, 31. 7-10)
O what more blest than care’s release,
When anxious mind throws off its load,
As worn and travel-stained we reach
The quiet of our own abode!

Page 85
(Horace, Epod. 2. 1-4 and 23-28)
How blest the man from business free,
Like to the sturdy sires of old,
Who plows content ancestral fields,
With ne’er a passing thought of gold!
How pleasant ’neath some ancient oak
Or on the thick-meshed sward to lie,
While plaintive wood-notes fill the air
And brimming brook glides softly by,
While purling waters lure to rest
As breezes through the treetops sigh!