The rocks re-echo shrill; the beasts of forest wild Stand at the cavern's mouth, in listening trance beguil'd: The birds surround the den; and, as in weary rest, They drop their fluttering wings, forgetful of the nest. Amazed the Centaur saw: his clapping hands he beat, And stamp'd in extasy the rock with hoof'd and horny feet. When Tiphys threads the cave, and bids the Minyan train To hurry swift on board; and thus I ceased my strain. The Argonauts leap'd up in haste, and snatch'd their arms again. Then Peleus to his breast his boy, embracing, rears; Kissing his head and beauteous eyes, and smiling through his tears. Achilles so was soothed; and, as I left the cave, A leopard's spotted skin, in pledge, the Centaur gave. Forth from the den we sprang, down from the mountain high; The aged Centaur spread his raised hands tow'rds the sky: And call'd on all the gods a safe return to give, That, fam'd in ages yet unborn, the youthful kings might live. Descending to the shore, we climb'd the bark again; Each press'd his former bench and lash'd with oar the main; Huge Pelion's mountain swift receded from our view, And o'er vast Ocean's green expanse the foam white-chafing flew. TO THE MOON. HEAVENLY Selene! goddess queen! that shedd'st abroad the light! Bull-horned moon! air-habiting! thou wanderer through the night! Moon, bearer of the nightly torch! thou star-encircled maid! Female at once, and male the same; still fresh, and still decay'd! Thou! that in thy steeds delight'st, as they whirl thee through the sky: Clothed in brightness! mighty mother of the rapid years that fly! Fruit-dispenser! amber-visaged! melancholy, yet serene! All-beholding! sleep-enamour'd! still with trooping planets seen! Quiet-loving! who in pleasaunce, and in plenty takest delight! Joy-diffusing! fruit-maturing! sparkling ornament of night! Swiftly-pacing! ample-vested! star-bright! all-divining maid! Come benignant! come spontaneous! with thy starry sheen array'd! Sweetly-shining! save us, virgin! give thy holy suppliants aid! FROM THE ORPHIC REMAINS. I. ONE self-existent lives: created things Of old Chaldeans: he, to whom was known Himself, above the firmament's broad arch, With his omniscient grasp. So speaks the lore II. JOVE is the first and last; who th' infant thunder hurl'd; Jove is the head and midst; the framer of the world; Jove is a male; a nymph of bloom immortal, Jove; Jove is the base of earth, and starry Heaven above. Jove is the breath of all; the force of quenchless flame; The root of ocean, Jove; the sun and moon, the same. Jove is the King, the Sire, whence generation sprang; One strength, one Demon, great, on whom all beings hang; his military or political services, that he earned for himself the immortality which is so justly his due, and which can only cease with the divine language in which he wrote. The story of his son Iophon having attempted to remove him from the management of his property on the ground of dotage or lunacy, and of his having repelled the charge by reading to the Judges his beautiful Ode in praise of his native Colonos, though re SOPHOCLES was born, at Colonos near Athens, | State, but it was by his Tragedies, and not by of respectable and opulent parents, who had him educated in all the learning and accomplishments of the times. His first exhibition was at the early age of sixteen, when he appeared in the character of exarch, or leader of the Athenian youths, who had been selected to perform the triumphant Pæan around the trophy of Salamis. In 468, being then twenty-seven, as well as in many subsequent years, he bore off the first prizes in Tragedy,-on one occasion, from Es-ceived by Cicero, is now supposed, on further chylus himself, whose vast but rugged grandeur was less in harmony with the reigning taste than the artful and polished genius of his younger rival. In 440, Sophocles was amongst the colleagues of Pericles and Thucydides in the Samian war, an appointment said to have been the reward of his political wisdom, as displayed in his Tragedy of Antigone, but which he more probably owed to his popular manners, serenity of temper, and even laxity, or rather want of public principle. He held other high offices of examination and comparison of dates, circumstances, and historical allusions, to be very apocryphal, if not altogether void of foundation. Sophocles died at the age of 90, leaving behind him upwards of one hundred Tragedies, of which only seven have come down to our times. the youths that circled the trophy of Grecian freedom, and, on the verge of death, he calmly assented to the surrender of Athenian liberties. In short, Aristophanes perhaps mingled more truth than usual with his wit, when, even in the shades below, he says of Sophocles, "His serenity, like that of Goethe, has in it something 'He was contented here - he is contented there.' A of enviable, rather than honourable, indifference. He disposition thus facile, united with an admirable genius, owed his first distinction to Cimon, and he served after-will not unfrequently effect a miracle and reconcile proswards under Pericles;-on his entrance into life, he led perity with fame "-Bulwer Lytton's Athens. FROM KING EDIPUS. LAIUS, king of Thebes, having learned from the Oracle, that he was destined to perish by the hand of his own son, commands his wife, Jocasta, to destroy the infant as soon as born. The mother accordingly gave the child to a domestic, with orders to expose him on Mount Citheron. There he is found by one of the shepherds of Polybus, king of Corinth, who, having no children, adopts him as his own. On arriving at years of maturity, Edipus goes to consult the Oracle concerning his parents and history; and being told that he would commit both parricide and incest, resolves on returning to Corinth no more. Travelling, however, towards Phocis he meets Laius, and in a dispute which ensues,-ignorant of the name and quality of his opponent, slays him. He then proceeds to Thebes, destroys the Sphynx, a monster which was infesting the land, and, in reward, is raised to the throne and honoured with the hand of the widowed queen. Edipus reigns, for a while, powerful and beloved; but a pestilence at length EDIPUS, TIRESIAS, CHORUS. Ed. Tiresias, whose expansive mind surveys The fatal plague that desolates our Thebes; To save thyself, thy country, and thy king, Ti. Ah! woe is me! for wisdom is but woe, When to be wise avails not. This I knew, But ill remembered, or I ne'er had come. Ed. What may this mean! and whence this strange dismay? Ti. Dismiss me to my home: this grace conferred, d. Doth it not then behove thee to declare What soon shall come to light? Ti. I'll speak no more. Indulge this lawless passion at thy will. Ed. Naught will I now suppress, since anger prompts My unreserved speech. I do suspect thee Adhere to thine own edict; from this hour Ed. Art thou so lost to shame, as to indulge A taunt like this. Think'st thou to 'scape unscathed! Ti. I have escaped: the might of truth is mine. Ed. By whom informed?-not through thy prescient art. Ti. By thee; thy will constrained me thus to speak, Though most reluctant. Ti. Shall I proceed and fire thy rage to frenzy? Ed. Speak what thou wilt, it will be said in vain. Ti. Thou dost not know what guilty ties unite thee Thou wilt endure thy griefs, I mine, more lightly. counsel. Ti. Thy words are most untimely to thyself. Let me beware, lest I too swerve from caution. Ch. Oh, by the gods, refuse not what thou canst. In one assenting prayer we all implore thee. Ed. Dost thou then know and wilt not speak Wilt thou betray us, and subvert thy country? Ti. I would not injure thee, nor wound myself. Why urge me thus? nought shalt thou hear from me. Ed. Basest of villains! for thou wouldst excite The insensate rock to wrath, wilt thou not speak? Still dost thou stand unpitying and unmoved? Ti. Thou hast reproved my warmth, yet little know'st see The ills that close thee round. Dark in thine eye, in heart and ear yet darker. Ti. Wretched art thou in thus upbraiding me, Whom all, ere long, shall urge with like reproach. Ed. Nurtured in night alone, thou canst not harm The man who views the living light of heaven. Ti. 'Tis not thy doom to fall by me; for this Phœbus is mighty, who will work the whole. Ed. Didst thou, or Creon, frame these sage inventions? Ti. Not Creon wrongs thee, thou dost wrong thyself. Ed. O wealth, O empire, and thou nobler art, What dwells in thine own bosom, though on me Potent o'er all to brighten life with joy, Thou heap'st reproach. Ed. And who could calmly hear Such words, so shameful to thine injured country? Ti. Soon will these things appear, though I be silent. What baleful envy on your splendour waits! And hath suborned this dark designing wizard, charm Didst thou not break it to redeem thy country? By reason, not by auguries, quelled the foe;- age Ti. This day will show thy birth, and seal thy ruin. Ed. How wild, and how mysterious are thy Ti. Art thou not skilled t' unriddle this enigma? greatness. Ti. That very path hath led thee to perdition. Ed. Aye, let him lead thee hence. Here thou But plague us; rid of thee we may have peace. I tell thee, king, the man whom thou hast sought Some reverence claims, now would I teach thee With fearful menaces, denouncing death wisdom. Ch. If we conjecture right, the prophet spake In vehement wrath; thus too, O king, thou speakest. Such ill beseems our state: 'twere best to seek Ti. Though thou art monarch, yet with like Thy slanders will I quiet, for this I can; On Laius' murderer, that man is here. Know, since my blindness wakes thy keen | And, if thou find my bodings unfulfilled, reproach, Clear-sighted as thou art, thou dost not see home With whom that home is shared. Art thou ap- Who gave thee birth? Thou art th' unconscious foe Ere long what shore shall not attest thy cries? As, with propitious gales, in evil port Ed. Must I then brook such shameless taunts A curse light on thee, babbler! to thy home Ti. But for thy summons, I had never come. so weakly, Or never had I sought thy presence here. Ti. Though to thy better wisdom void of sense We seem, thy parents once esteemed us wise. Ed. Who are they? Stop and tell who gave me birth. Deem me untutored in prophetic lore. [Exeunt TIRESIAS AND EDIPus. Cr. O citizens, of that atrocious crime Ch. The prophet framed these falsehoods? Thy wiles-when traced, no firmness to revenge them? Cr. Know'st thou what thou wouldst do? To our reply Grant first impartial audience; learn, then judge. Ed. Aye, thou art mighty in the strife of words; But I am slow to learn of one like thee, Ed. So thou reply not thus, "I am no villain." Cr. If thou dost deem this self-willed senseless pride Will aught avail thee, thou art most unwise. Wherein I thus have wronged thee. Cr. I did, and still my counsel is the same. Cr. Do not I hold an equal rank with both? Ed. Thence dost thou seem indeed a faithless friend. Cr. Not if thou weigh my words, as I weighed thine, With cool and temperate judgment. First reflect, So wild a scheme the prudent soul discards. Cr. What act performed? I cannot see thy To mingle with the guilty band who frame them. drift. Strict inquisition for your murdered lord? Cr. How could we pass it by? Our search was vain. Ed. Why spake not then this sage diviner thus? If thou dost seek a proof, to Delphi send; But tax me not with guilt on vague suspicion. Shalt thou be well convinced; long space it asks Ch. Well hath he said, O king, to one forewarned Cr. I know not, and strict silence would Of falling; quick resolves are rarely safe. Ed. When one is quick to frame insidious plots, I too have need of quickness to repel him. Ed. Nay, exile shall not be thy doom, but Cr. When thou hast proved what merits such |