Matthew Prior. Dialogues of the Dead and Other Works in Prose and Verse. The Text Edited by A. R. Waller |
Matthew Prior. Dialogues of the Dead and Other Works | ||
To a Friend on his Marriage.
Chamont was absent, and remembrance brought
Him and past blessings thick upon my thought;
Those but my Tortures now, whilst my vext heart
Beat quick and throb'd, and sought its nobler part
Nor wou'd have rest, uneasy still Alone
I scorn'd the Wretch My self, my Worth was gon.
In Company I strove for ease in Vain,
Whilst Mirth in others but increas'd my Pain.
Med'cines from Books as vain I often took,
They that writt best but told me how you spoke
In vain I saw: each object thrô my Eye
Touch'd my Soul quick with something stil of Thee
My Friend and I sat there, we that way mov'd
These read, these Talk'd, and every where we Lov'd.
But when 'twas said thou n'er must hope to see
That Friend return to things below and Thee.
Happy He triumphs, happy has possest
A Seat of Glory and a Heav'n of rest
'Twas base to Sigh and grew a Crime to moan
So much I Prize Your Bliss beyond my own.
Him and past blessings thick upon my thought;
Those but my Tortures now, whilst my vext heart
Beat quick and throb'd, and sought its nobler part
Nor wou'd have rest, uneasy still Alone
I scorn'd the Wretch My self, my Worth was gon.
In Company I strove for ease in Vain,
Whilst Mirth in others but increas'd my Pain.
Med'cines from Books as vain I often took,
They that writt best but told me how you spoke
302
Touch'd my Soul quick with something stil of Thee
My Friend and I sat there, we that way mov'd
These read, these Talk'd, and every where we Lov'd.
But when 'twas said thou n'er must hope to see
That Friend return to things below and Thee.
Happy He triumphs, happy has possest
A Seat of Glory and a Heav'n of rest
'Twas base to Sigh and grew a Crime to moan
So much I Prize Your Bliss beyond my own.
Theseus stil lov'd, and stil desir'd his Friend
Whilst great Alcides yet on Earth remain'd:
But when the Hero to his Heav'n arriv'd,
Most the Youth wanted him, yet least he griev'd
Pleas'd that the Friend was in the God improv'd,
He learn'd to Worship what before he lov'd.
Accept my first Oblation, thy own heart,
(For Friendship shal be forc'd to let it part)
'Tis Love demands it, and I will resign:
Honoria gave her own, and merits Thine,
And to return it thus I triumph more
Then keeping it from all the Sex before.
Accept my Wishes too; meet all the Charms
The Muses gave, in Dear Honoria's Arms.
Whilst great Alcides yet on Earth remain'd:
But when the Hero to his Heav'n arriv'd,
Most the Youth wanted him, yet least he griev'd
Pleas'd that the Friend was in the God improv'd,
He learn'd to Worship what before he lov'd.
Accept my first Oblation, thy own heart,
(For Friendship shal be forc'd to let it part)
'Tis Love demands it, and I will resign:
Honoria gave her own, and merits Thine,
And to return it thus I triumph more
Then keeping it from all the Sex before.
Accept my Wishes too; meet all the Charms
The Muses gave, in Dear Honoria's Arms.
[Herself a Muse more Noble than the Nine
For when we harmony it self wou'd paint
Art does but in One graceful figure join
The Lovely Woman and the Pious Saint.]
May all thy Hours in glad Procession pass
Kind as her look and soft as her Embrace
And every Hour new Pleasures may'st thou find
All fair and Lovely as thy Mistress' Mind
And sure that's very lovely, very fair
Nothing but Heav'n and You, my friend, are there.
May all her future Minutes happy prove
As are Thy Numbers when Thou writst of Love
How strangely happy these well beauty knew
She fled Apollo but she ran to You
May smiling Peace and gentle Concord spread
Their blooming Sweets around thy spotless Bed
And may Mankind with pleasing wonder see
Successive Hopes of Thy great Progeny
'Till Dear Chamonts and Virgils labours Dye.
For when we harmony it self wou'd paint
Art does but in One graceful figure join
The Lovely Woman and the Pious Saint.]
May all thy Hours in glad Procession pass
Kind as her look and soft as her Embrace
And every Hour new Pleasures may'st thou find
All fair and Lovely as thy Mistress' Mind
And sure that's very lovely, very fair
Nothing but Heav'n and You, my friend, are there.
May all her future Minutes happy prove
As are Thy Numbers when Thou writst of Love
How strangely happy these well beauty knew
She fled Apollo but she ran to You
303
Their blooming Sweets around thy spotless Bed
And may Mankind with pleasing wonder see
Successive Hopes of Thy great Progeny
'Till Dear Chamonts and Virgils labours Dye.
Matthew Prior. Dialogues of the Dead and Other Works | ||