Ἤλλακτ᾽ ἐξαπίνης Κορνήλιος, οὐδ᾽ ἔτι λιτῷ
τέρπεται ἡμετέρῳ μουσοχαρεῖ βιότῳ:
κούφης δ᾽ αἰωρεῖται ἀπ᾽ ἐλπίδος: οὐκέτι δ᾽ ἡμεῖς
οἱ πάρος, ἀλλ᾽ ἑτέρης ἐλπίδος ἐκκρέμαται.
εἴκωμεν, ψυχή: πεπαλαίσμεθα, μηδὲ βιάζου:— Paton edition
εἰς ἔδαφος τέχνης κείμεθ᾽ ὑπ᾽ ἀργυρέης.
Cornelius is changed all of a sudden, and is no— Paton edition
longer pleased with our simple literary life, but de-
pends on light hope. We are not the same as before
to him, but the hope on which he hangs is another.
Let us give in, my heart ; we are thrown ; seek not
to resist; it is a silver fall¹ that has laid us on the