epaigixon, epi t' aemuei astachuessin]

(As when the west wind tosses a deep cornfield rushing down with
furious blast, and it bows with all its ears.)


Nothing could be more happy than such an adaptation as the following--

Ever fail'd to draw
The quiet night into her blood,


from Virgil, 'Aen'., iv., 530:--

Neque unquam Solvitur in somnos _oculisve aut pectore noctem
Accipit_.

(And she never relaxes into sleep, or receives the night in eyes or
bosom),


or than the following (in 'Enid') from Theocritus:--

Arms on which the standing muscle sloped,
As slopes a wild brook o'er a little stone,
Running too vehemently to break upon it.

[Greek: en de mues stereoisi brachiosin akron hyp' _omon estasan,
aeute petroi oloitrochoi ous te kylind_on cheimarrhous potamos
megalais periexese dinais.]