Translation.
To-day how full I am of glee,
Content in heart and clear in thought;
But when my boyish blood flowed free,
How gloomy was I and distraught!
Yet, when I feel the years behind,
However joyous I may be,
Those ruddy cheeks I call to mind,
And wish they still remained to me.
Our friend having very soon found the hunting-poem among his well-arranged
papers, he congratulated himself on the careful calligraphy, as years ago he had
written it down in most elegant style, with Roman characters, in large octavo.
The precious letter-case, being of considerable size, would contain the poem
quite conveniently, and not often has an author seen himself so magnificently
bound. A few lines on the subject were absolutely necessary; but prose was
scarcely admissible. That Ovidian passage again occurred to him, and he thought
he would best manage the matter by a poetical transcription, as he had on the
other occasion by a prose one. It ran as follows:
Nec factas solum vestes spectare juvabat,
Tum quoque, dum fierent: tantus decor adfuit arti
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