ON THE COMPLAINT OF NATURE.

 METRE 1.

 PROSE I.

 METRE II

 PROSE II.

 METRE III.

 PROSE III

 METRE IV

 PROSE IV.

 METRE V.

 PROSE V.

 METRE VI.

 PROSE VI.

 PROSE VII.

 METRE VIII.

 PROSE VIII.

 METRE IX.

 PROSE IX.

METRE IX.

Jam tuba terribili bellum clangore salutans.

Now the trumpet's salute with terrible clang thundered war. telling of the kindred prologues to war, and marked the tumult with tumultuous bellowing. The horn tortured the air with unsubstantial wounds. Its wild, unruly voice knew not how to obey the numbers of music, and scorned to favor art, and music

marveled at its lawless song. The clear, fair voice of the cithara, more sweetly than the others, offered the ear feasts of honeyed sound ; and, varying and adorning the character of its song, now feigned grief in its tone and gave rise to tears, now offered a deceptive mimicry of laughter. The lyre, which sings always like a nightingale with lovely song, though more sweetly alluring, and which gathers the first of sleep for the eyes, silenced the murmurs of the unhappy mind.[1] The pipe, which keeps vigil by night like an active sentinel, atoned to watchers for their loss of sleep. It laughed in the ears, so that the stony hardness of the heart became like wax, [2] and the harshness of the unmoved mind was forced to melt and drive away its own severity. Drums, which came with dull sound, slowed the progress of this music and the keenness of the swift song. Yet was their resonance not without charm, if one struck these drums a stroke of gentle force, aroused them and tried them, allied as they were in the deep volume [3] of their hollow air, with the touch of a friendly hand. The wind instruments made pleasant noise. joined and then divided, divided and then joined, was the uneven equality of their song, their harmonious discord, their varied unity, the concordant dissension of their voices. With common sound and beggarly voice rang the cymbals, the clamor of which never appeals to our ears, and which was hardly worthy to deserve the hearing of men. None was greater, better, or more agreeable than that which by itself silenced these strains-the sweet song of the pentachord, whose echoes and sound [4] the common

1. Placing a period after mentis.

2. Reading per quam sit cerea cordis, with B.

3. Reading tractu, with B. and Migne.

4. Reading vocem, with Migne.

people who vie in song adore. While in rival tone it was thus contending with the cithara, there rose a pleasant sound, hidden in the honey of the psaltery and sweetened with its flavor bearing the slighter gifts of song. Sistra which asked the touch of a girlish hand, together with women's voices, like prophets of Mars and war, sang the wonders of such Music as had never been heard.