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And in like manner, the poet may turn from the world of action to the world of repose, and portray Nature as enfolding and subduing the human element in his picture. In Keats's "Ode to Autumn," Shelley's "Autumn," in Wordsworth's "Solitary Reaper," Browning's "Where the Mayne Glideth," we find poets absorbed in the external scene or object and striving to paint it.
Then we covered the furry body with leaves, and Noel said the Burial Ode he had made up. 'Dear Fox, sleep here, and do not wake, We picked these leaves for your sake You must not try to rise or move, We give you this with our love. Close by the wood where once you grew Your mourning friends have buried you.
Intimating that no such men were now to be found in office. has put an end to our king. Alas for our middle states ! All is in peril and going to ruin. King Hsuean does not occur by name in the ode, though the remarkable prayer which it relates is ascribed to a king in stanza 1.
The descriptive poems of Catullus are superior to the others, and discover a lively imagination. Amongst the best of his productions, is a translation of the celebrated ode of Sappho: Ille mi par esse Deo videtur, me, etc. This ode is executed both with spirit and elegance; it is, however, imperfect; and the last stanza seems to be spurious.
But to us, O Loxias of the golden-flowing hair, give also at thy Pythian games a new fair-flowering crown. All that we can be certain of as to the date of this ode is that it was written soon after the final expulsion of the Persians. From the first strophe we learn that Kleandros had won a Nemean as well as an Isthmian victory, and perhaps this ode really belongs to the former.
The unfortunate relations between Milton and his first wife are treated as we think all readers will say, at once with delicacy and justice. They are often expressed in language of great beauty: "The rapid purification of Milton's taste will be best perceived by comparing 'L'Allegro' and 'Il Penseroso' of uncertain date but written after 1632 with the 'Ode on the Nativity, written 1629.
It is not quite so bad as that with most of us who are called upon to furnish a poem, a song, a hymn, an ode for some grand meeting, but it is safe to say that many a trifling performance has had more good honest work put into it than the minister's sermon of that week had cost him.
But perhaps it is all the more surprising, to come suddenly on a corner, and see a perspective of a mile or more of falling street, and beyond that woods and villas, and a blue arm of sea, and the hills upon the farther side. Fergusson, our Edinburgh poet, Burns's model, once saw a butterfly at the Town Cross; and the sight inspired him with a worthless little ode.
Another portion of this paper contained an ode, in which all things were represented as in a state of convulsion, all shaken by a tremendous storm; but nature, either blind or cruel, sparing the head of the tyrant alone: still carrying on the parody of the Roman speech, it pronounces that a poniard is the last resource of Rome to rescue herself from a dictator.
When he lays his ill-fated hand upon his harp his former powers seem to desert him; he has no longer his luxuriance of expression or variety of images. His thoughts are cold, and his words inelegant. Yet such was his love of lyrics that, having written with great vigour and poignancy his "Epistle to Curio," he transformed it afterwards into an ode disgraceful only to its author.
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