rk domains
Throw mournful shadows o'er the Aonian clime;
For in their silent bourne my filial bands
Lie all dissolv'd;--and swiftly-wasting pour
From my frail glass of life, health's sparkling sands.
Sleep then, my LYRE, thy tuneful tasks are o'er,
Sleep! for my heart bereav'd, and listless hands
Wake with rapt touch thy glowing strings no more!

[Illustration]

PARAPHRASES AND IMITATIONS OF HORACE.

PREFACE.

Translations scrupulously faithful are apt to be stiff, vapid and
obscure, from the often irreconcilably different nature of languages,
from local customs, and from allusions to circumstances over which
time has drawn a veil. In attempting to put the most admired and
interesting of Horace's Odes into English Verse, I have taken only
the Poet's general idea, frequently expanding it, to elucidate the
sense, and to bring the images more distinctly to the eye; induced by
the hope of thus infusing into these Paraphrases the spirit of
original composition. Neither have I scrupled to follow the example
of Dryden and Pope, by sometimes adding ideas and imagery congenial
to the subject, and thus to translate Horace like a Poet, rather than
a Versifier.

The trust, whether partial or not, that it was in my power _so_ to
paraphrase the Odes of Horace, prompted the late Mr. Grove of
Lichfield, and the late Mr. Dewes of Wellsburn in Warwickshire, to
request that I would undertake the task respecting those whose
subjects best pleased me. Not acquainted with each other, the
coincidence of their opinion and request was flattering. They were
extensively known to be Gentlemen of distinguished virtues, much
classic erudition, and poetic taste;

"Blest with each talent, and each art to please,
And born to write, converse, and live at ease."

Mr. Dewes was the highly esteemed Friend of Dr. Parr, Mr. Grove of
Lord Sheffield. A beautiful epitaph in verse, written by Mr. Grove,
on his beloved Wife, is one of the chief ornaments of Lichfield
Cathedral.

The imitation of the Ode to Delius, applied to Mr. Erskine, was
written since the lamented death of those Gentlemen, which happened
in the meridian of their days. All the other Paraphrases had been
submitted to their revision and correction, and had been honoured by
their warm praise. That consciousness makes me indifferent to the
expected cavils of illiberal criticism.

Men of letters have often observed to me, that in paraphrasing