June 18, 1798. We are indebted for the following imitation of Catullus to a literary correspondent. Whether it will remove the doubts we formerly expressed, of Citizen Muskein’s acquaintance with the classics, from the minds of our readers, we cannot pretend to say. It is given to us as a faithful translation from the French—as such, we present it to our readers; premising only, that though the Citizen Imitator seems to have Sans-culottized the original in two or three places, yet he everywhere expresses himself with a naÏvetÉ and truth in his verse that we seek for in vain in many of his countrymen who have recorded their victories and defeats in very vulgar prose. AN AFFECTIONATE EFFUSION OF CITIZEN MUSKEIN TO HAVRE-DE-GRACE.Fairest of cities, Surveys ’twixt Paris and the main, Sweet Havre! sweetest Havre, hail! How gladly with my tatter’d sail, Yet trembling from this wild adventure, Do I thy friendly harbour enter! What boats are left me; one, two, three— Bravo! the better half remain; And all my heroes are not slain. And if my senses don’t deceive, I too am safe, Without a wound I reach thy shore (For I have felt myself all o’er); I’ve all my limbs, and, be it spoken With honest triumph, no bone broken. How pleasing is the sweet transition From this vile Gun-boat Expedition; From winds and waves, and wounds and scars, From British soldiers, British tars, To his own house, where, free from danger, Muskein may live at rack and manger; May stretch his limbs in his own cot, Thankful he has not gone to pot; Nor for the bubble Glory strive, But bless himself that he’s alive! O! bid thy sons (a frolic train, Who under ChÉnier welcomed in, With dance and song, the Guillotine). For Muskein now prepares to land, ’Scaped, Heav’n knows how, from that cursed crew That haunt the rocks of Saint Marcou. [TO THE PENINSULA OF SIRMIO. |