Page:The Works of Lord Byron (ed. Coleridge, Prothero) - Volume 1.djvu/187

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TRANSLATION FROM ANACREON.
147

77.

What minstrel grey, what hoary bard,
Shall Allan's deeds on harp-strings raise?
The song is glory's chief reward,
But who can strike a murd'rer's praise?


78.

Unstrung, untouch'd, the harp must stand,
No minstrel dare the theme awake;
Guilt would benumb his palsied hand,
His harp in shuddering chords would break.


79.

No lyre of fame, no hallow'd verse,
Shall sound his glories high in air:
A dying father's bitter curse,
A brother's death-groan echoes there.


TRANSLATION FROM ANACREON.

Θέλω λέγειν Ἀτρείδας, κ.τ.λ.[1]

ODE I.

TO HIS LYRE.

I wish to tune my quivering lyre,[2]

To deeds of fame, and notes of fire;
  1. [The motto does not appear in Hours of Idleness or Poems O. and T.]
  2. I sought to tune ——.—[MS. Newstead.]