"Metallic stream, whose living waves, that flow
"With lucid silver, life and health bestow."

She said, and to her guest the region shew'd
Where treasur'd heaps in bright profusion glow'd,
And boundless vaults the glittering stores contain'd,
Their gloomy round with livid sulphur stain'd.

Now seen the lake, whose undulations, bright
With silvery gleams, arrest their dazzled sight;
With nearer steps the shining brink they gain;
And, "here a speedy cure awaits thy pain,"
The Nymph subjoin'd ;-" within this argent wave
Thrice dipt, thy limbs shall all defilement leave.”-
Then thrice immers'd, and thrice around his head,
The Nymph divine the silver liquid shed;
And thrice her fair hand, with lustrations due,
O'er all his form the vivid metal threw.

When the Emperor Charles V. going on a certain expedition, happened to pass by Peschiera, with a numerous and splendid retinue; among the concourse of spectators assembled on this unusual occasion, Fracas tor was pointed out to the monarch, who instantly stopped, more particularly to notice a person whom rumour had celebrated in terms of such uncommon praise. (2)

I find

(2) Vit Fracast. supradict.

I find a solitary Italian poem of Fracastor, preserved in a scarce volume entitled, “Rime di Diversi Nobilissimi, et Eccellentissimi Autori." 8vo. printed In Vinetia. 1550.

Di M. Girolamo Fracastoro.

QUESTI bianchi papaver, queste nere
Viole Alcippo dona

Al Sonno, e tesse una gentil corona
Per lo soccorso, che sua Donna chere.
Langue Madonna, e ne begliocchi suoi
Sonno ti chier, che ristorar la puoi ;
Placido Sonno solo

D'ogni fatica, e duolo

Pace, e del mondo universal quiete,
Te ne' l ombra di Lethe

Creò la Notte, e empio

Di dolcezza, e d'oblio

D' ogni cura noiosa, e d'ogni male,

Tu dove spieghi l'ale

Spargi rorido gelo,

Che gli affanni, e le doglie

D'ombre soavi invoglie,

E copri d' un ameno, e dolce velo.

Tu per tranquilli mari, e lieti fiumi

Per le selve, e per dumi

Acqueti gli animali,

Et a tutti e mortali

Lievi 'l pensier, & il lor fascio grave,
Solo la Donna mia pace non have.

TRANSLATION

TRANSLATION.

For SLEEP, this poppy's snowy flower
With purple hyacinths combine,
To lure him to thy Lady's bower,
Alcippus! thou the wreath entwine.
Those eyes, in sickness bright, implore
His aid, he only can restore.

O fraught with balm for every woe,
The kind mellifluous boon supply!
To bid the tear forget to flow,

And soothe to peace the sufferer's sigh 'Tis thine ;-and well affliction knows The blessings of endear'd repose.

Bland child of Night! from Lethe's bourne
Thou com'st to weave the oblivious veil,

And on the wretched and forlorn

Can'st bid the dear illusion steal;

In dim suffusion wont to fling
The freshness of thy dewy wing.

Even now, mild power! thy sway pervades
The calm recesses of the main,

To stillness charms the leafy glades,

And lulls each mortal care and pain; Yet deigns, regardless of our prayer, No respite to the suffering fair.

ANDREA

ANDREE NAUGERII

Invitatio ad amænum fontem,

Et gelidus fons est, et nulla salubrior unda,
Et molli circum gramine terra viret;
Et ramis arcent soles frondentibus alni,
Et levis in nullo gratior aura loco est :
Et medio Titan nunc ardentissimus axe est;
Exustusque gravi sidere fervet ager.
Siste, viator, iter: nimio jam torridus æstu es ;
Jam nequeunt lassi longius ire pedes.
Accubitu languorem, æstum aurâ, umbrâque virenti,
Perspicuo poteris fonte levare sitim.

INVITATION TO A FOUNTAIN.

Cool is this fount, and pure its current flows,
Its grassy margin woos thee to repose!

Soft wave these alders,-here the freshening breeze
Shall gently fan thee as thou liest at ease:
See-Titan flames from yon meridian skies;
Parch'd is the yellow mead,-the flow'ret dies:
Long hast thou toil'd beneath his sickening ray,
Thy feet implore a respite from the way;
Rest shall re-nerve thy limbs,-thy fever's rage
The breeze and leafy shade,-thy thirst this spring
assuage.

FLAMINIUS.

Ye cooling shades! thou darkling grove!
Dew sprinkled antres! warbling bowers!
Streamlets that murmur as ye rove!

And verdant fields, and breathing flowers!
Calm leisure, friendly to the Muse !

To you, the wistful bard aspires

And gladly bounds his fond desires
To pastoral haunts, and rural views.

MARCUS

RCUS ANTONIUS FLAMINIUS, a native of Imola in Romagna, was born about the year 1493. Joannes Antonius Flaminius, his father, was a respectable poet, and distinguished himself as a writer, both in