 | Collected Poems of Thomas Parnell |  |
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POEMS ON Several Occasions.
Dignum laude Virum Musa vetat mori.
Hor.
Hor.
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Hesiod : or, The Rise of Woman.
What antient Times (those Times we fancy wise)
Have left on long Record of Woman's Rise,
What Morals teach it, and what Fables hide,
What Author wrote it, how that Author dy'd,
All these I sing. In Greece they fram'd the Tale
(In Greece, 'twas thought, a Woman might be frail)
Ye modern Beauties! where the Poet drew
His softest Pencil, think he dreamt of you;
And warn'd by him, ye wanton Pens, beware
How Heav'n's concern'd to vindicate the Fair.
The Case was Hesiod's; he the Fable writ;
Some think with Meaning, some with idle Wit:
Perhaps 'tis either, as the Ladies please;
I wave the Contest, and commence the Lays.
Have left on long Record of Woman's Rise,
What Morals teach it, and what Fables hide,
What Author wrote it, how that Author dy'd,
All these I sing. In Greece they fram'd the Tale
(In Greece, 'twas thought, a Woman might be frail)
Ye modern Beauties! where the Poet drew
His softest Pencil, think he dreamt of you;
And warn'd by him, ye wanton Pens, beware
How Heav'n's concern'd to vindicate the Fair.
The Case was Hesiod's; he the Fable writ;
Some think with Meaning, some with idle Wit:
Perhaps 'tis either, as the Ladies please;
I wave the Contest, and commence the Lays.
In days of yore, (no matter where or when,
'Twas e're the low Creation swarm'd with Men)
That one Prometheus, sprung of heav'nly Birth,
(Our Author's Song can witness) liv'd on Earth.
He carv'd the Turf to mold a manly Frame,
And stole from Jove his animating Flame.
The sly Contrivance o'er Olympus ran,
When thus the Monarch of the Stars began.
'Twas e're the low Creation swarm'd with Men)
That one Prometheus, sprung of heav'nly Birth,
(Our Author's Song can witness) liv'd on Earth.
He carv'd the Turf to mold a manly Frame,
And stole from Jove his animating Flame.
The sly Contrivance o'er Olympus ran,
When thus the Monarch of the Stars began.
Oh vers'd in Arts! whose daring Thoughts aspire
To kindle Clay with never-dying Fire!
Enjoy thy Glory past, That Gift was thine;
The next thy Creature meets, be fairly mine:
And such a Gift, a Vengeance so design'd,
As suits the Counsel of a God to find;
A pleasing Bosom-cheat, a specious Ill,
Which felt they curse, yet covet still to feel.
To kindle Clay with never-dying Fire!
Enjoy thy Glory past, That Gift was thine;
The next thy Creature meets, be fairly mine:
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As suits the Counsel of a God to find;
A pleasing Bosom-cheat, a specious Ill,
Which felt they curse, yet covet still to feel.
He said, and Vulcan strait the Sire commands,
To temper Mortar with etherial Hands;
In such a Shape to mold a rising Fair,
As Virgin-goddesses are proud to wear;
To make her Eyes with Diamond-water shine,
And form her Organs for a Voice divine.
'Twas thus the Sire ordain'd; the Pow'r obey'd;
And work'd, and wonder'd at the Work he made;
The fairest, softest, sweetest Frame beneath,
Now made to seem, now more than seem, to breathe.
To temper Mortar with etherial Hands;
In such a Shape to mold a rising Fair,
As Virgin-goddesses are proud to wear;
To make her Eyes with Diamond-water shine,
And form her Organs for a Voice divine.
'Twas thus the Sire ordain'd; the Pow'r obey'd;
And work'd, and wonder'd at the Work he made;
The fairest, softest, sweetest Frame beneath,
Now made to seem, now more than seem, to breathe.
As Vulcan ends, the chearful Queen of Charms
Clasp'd the new-panting Creature in her Arms;
From that Embrace a fine Complexion spread,
Where mingled Whiteness glow'd with softer red.
Then in a Kiss she breath'd her various Arts,
Of trifling prettily with wounded Hearts;
A Mind for Love, but still a changing Mind;
The Lisp affected, and the Glance design'd;
The sweet confusing Blush, the secret Wink,
The gentle-swimming Walk, the courteous Sink,
The Stare for Strangeness fit, for Scorn the Frown,
For decent yielding Looks declining down,
The practis'd Languish, where well-feign'd Desire
Wou'd own its melting in a mutual Fire;
Gay Smiles to comfort; April Show'rs to move;
And all the Nature, all the Art, of Love.
Clasp'd the new-panting Creature in her Arms;
From that Embrace a fine Complexion spread,
Where mingled Whiteness glow'd with softer red.
Then in a Kiss she breath'd her various Arts,
Of trifling prettily with wounded Hearts;
A Mind for Love, but still a changing Mind;
The Lisp affected, and the Glance design'd;
The sweet confusing Blush, the secret Wink,
The gentle-swimming Walk, the courteous Sink,
The Stare for Strangeness fit, for Scorn the Frown,
For decent yielding Looks declining down,
The practis'd Languish, where well-feign'd Desire
Wou'd own its melting in a mutual Fire;
Gay Smiles to comfort; April Show'rs to move;
And all the Nature, all the Art, of Love.
Gold-scepter'd Juno next exalts the Fair;
Her Touch endows her with imperious Air,
Self-valuing Fancy, highly-crested Pride,
Strong sov'reign Will, and some Desire to chide:
For which, an Eloquence, that aims to vex,
With native Tropes of Anger, arms the Sex.
Her Touch endows her with imperious Air,
Self-valuing Fancy, highly-crested Pride,
Strong sov'reign Will, and some Desire to chide:
For which, an Eloquence, that aims to vex,
With native Tropes of Anger, arms the Sex.
Minerva (skillful Goddess) train'd the Maid
To twirl the Spindle by the twisting Thread,
To fix the Loom, instruct the Reeds to part,
Cross the long Weft, and close the Web with Art,
An useful Gift; but what profuse Expence,
What world of Fashions, took its Rise from hence!
To twirl the Spindle by the twisting Thread,
To fix the Loom, instruct the Reeds to part,
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An useful Gift; but what profuse Expence,
What world of Fashions, took its Rise from hence!
Young Hermes next, a close-contriving God,
Her Brows encircled with his Serpent Rod:
Then Plots and fair Excuses, fill'd her Brain,
The Views of breaking am'rous Vows for Gain,
The Price of Favours; the designing Arts
That aim at Riches in Contempt of Hearts;
And for a Comfort in the Marriage Life,
The little, pilf'ring Temper of a Wife.
Her Brows encircled with his Serpent Rod:
Then Plots and fair Excuses, fill'd her Brain,
The Views of breaking am'rous Vows for Gain,
The Price of Favours; the designing Arts
That aim at Riches in Contempt of Hearts;
And for a Comfort in the Marriage Life,
The little, pilf'ring Temper of a Wife.
Full on the Fair his Beams Apollo flung,
And fond Persuasion tip'd her easy Tongue;
He gave her Words, where oyly Flatt'ry lays
The pleasing Colours of the Art of Praise;
And Wit, to Scandal exquisitely prone,
Which frets another's Spleen to cure its own.
And fond Persuasion tip'd her easy Tongue;
He gave her Words, where oyly Flatt'ry lays
The pleasing Colours of the Art of Praise;
And Wit, to Scandal exquisitely prone,
Which frets another's Spleen to cure its own.
Those sacred Virgins whom the Bards revere,
Tun'd all her Voice, and shed a Sweetness there,
To make her Sense with double Charms abound,
Or make her lively Nonsense please by Sound.
Tun'd all her Voice, and shed a Sweetness there,
To make her Sense with double Charms abound,
Or make her lively Nonsense please by Sound.
To dress the Maid, the decent Graces brought
A Robe in all the Dies of Beauty wrought,
And plac'd their Boxes o'er a rich Brocade
Where pictur'd Loves on ev'ry cover plaid;
Then spread those Implements that Vulcan's Art
Had fram'd to merit Cytherea's Heart;
The Wire to curl, the close-indented Comb
To call the Locks that lightly wander, home;
And chief, the Mirrour, where the ravish'd Maid
Beholds and loves her own reflected Shade.
A Robe in all the Dies of Beauty wrought,
And plac'd their Boxes o'er a rich Brocade
Where pictur'd Loves on ev'ry cover plaid;
Then spread those Implements that Vulcan's Art
Had fram'd to merit Cytherea's Heart;
The Wire to curl, the close-indented Comb
To call the Locks that lightly wander, home;
And chief, the Mirrour, where the ravish'd Maid
Beholds and loves her own reflected Shade.
Fair Flora lent her Stores, the purpled Hours
Confin'd her Tresses with a Wreath of Flow'rs;
Within the Wreath arose a radiant Crown;
A Veil pellucid hung depending down;
Back roll'd her azure Veil with Serpent fold,
The purfled Border deck'd the Floor with Gold.
Her Robe (which closely by the Girdle brac't
Reveal'd the Beauties of a slender Waste)
Flow'd to the Feet; to copy Venus Air,
When Venus's Statues have a Robe to wear.
Confin'd her Tresses with a Wreath of Flow'rs;
Within the Wreath arose a radiant Crown;
A Veil pellucid hung depending down;
Back roll'd her azure Veil with Serpent fold,
The purfled Border deck'd the Floor with Gold.
Her Robe (which closely by the Girdle brac't
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Flow'd to the Feet; to copy Venus Air,
When Venus's Statues have a Robe to wear.
The newsprung Creature finish'd thus for Harms,
Adjusts her Habit, practises her Charms,
With Blushes glows, or shines with lively Smiles,
Confirms her Will, or recollects her Wiles:
Then conscious of her Worth, with easy Pace
Glides by the Glass, and turning views her Face.
Adjusts her Habit, practises her Charms,
With Blushes glows, or shines with lively Smiles,
Confirms her Will, or recollects her Wiles:
Then conscious of her Worth, with easy Pace
Glides by the Glass, and turning views her Face.
A finer Flax than what they wrought before,
Thro' Time's deep Cave the Sister Fates explore,
Then fix the Loom, their Fingers nimbly weave,
And thus their Toil prophetick Songs deceive.
Thro' Time's deep Cave the Sister Fates explore,
Then fix the Loom, their Fingers nimbly weave,
And thus their Toil prophetick Songs deceive.
Flow from the Rock my Flax! and swiftly flow,
Pursue thy Thread; the Spindle runs below.
A Creature fond and changing, fair and vain,
The Creature Woman, rises now to reign.
New Beauty blooms, a Beauty form'd to fly;
New Love begins, a Love produc'd to dye;
New Parts distress the troubled Scenes of Life,
The fondling Mistress, and the ruling Wife.
Pursue thy Thread; the Spindle runs below.
A Creature fond and changing, fair and vain,
The Creature Woman, rises now to reign.
New Beauty blooms, a Beauty form'd to fly;
New Love begins, a Love produc'd to dye;
New Parts distress the troubled Scenes of Life,
The fondling Mistress, and the ruling Wife.
Men, born to Labour, all with Pains provide;
Women have Time, to sacrifice to Pride:
They want the Care of Man, their Want they know,
And dress to please with heart-alluring Show,
The Show prevailing, for the Sway contend,
And make a Servant where they meet a Friend.
Women have Time, to sacrifice to Pride:
They want the Care of Man, their Want they know,
And dress to please with heart-alluring Show,
The Show prevailing, for the Sway contend,
And make a Servant where they meet a Friend.
Thus in a thousand wax-erected Forts
A loytering Race the painful Bee supports,
From Sun to Sun, from Bank to Bank he flies,
With Honey loads his Bag, with Wax his Thighs,
Fly where he will, at home the Race remain,
Prune the silk Dress, and murm'ring eat the Gain.
A loytering Race the painful Bee supports,
From Sun to Sun, from Bank to Bank he flies,
With Honey loads his Bag, with Wax his Thighs,
Fly where he will, at home the Race remain,
Prune the silk Dress, and murm'ring eat the Gain.
Yet here and there we grant a gentle Bride,
Whose Temper betters by the Father's side;
Unlike the rest that double humane Care,
Fond to relieve, or resolute to share:
Happy the Man whom thus his Stars advance!
The Curse is gen'ral, but the Blessing Chance.
Whose Temper betters by the Father's side;
Unlike the rest that double humane Care,
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Happy the Man whom thus his Stars advance!
The Curse is gen'ral, but the Blessing Chance.
Thus sung the Sisters, while the Gods admire
Their beauteous Creature, made for Man in Ire;
The young Pandora she, whom all contend
To make too perfect not to gain her End:
Then bid the Winds that fly to breath the Spring,
Return to bear her on a gentle Wing;
With wafting Airs the Winds obsequious blow,
And land the shining Vengeance safe below.
A golden Coffer in her Hand she bore,
(The Present treach'rous, but the Bearer more)
'Twas fraught with Pangs; for Jove ordain'd above,
That Gold shou'd aid, and Pangs attend on Love.
Their beauteous Creature, made for Man in Ire;
The young Pandora she, whom all contend
To make too perfect not to gain her End:
Then bid the Winds that fly to breath the Spring,
Return to bear her on a gentle Wing;
With wafting Airs the Winds obsequious blow,
And land the shining Vengeance safe below.
A golden Coffer in her Hand she bore,
(The Present treach'rous, but the Bearer more)
'Twas fraught with Pangs; for Jove ordain'd above,
That Gold shou'd aid, and Pangs attend on Love.
Her gay Descent the Man perceiv'd afar,
Wond'ring he run to catch the falling Star;
But so surpriz'd, as none but he can tell,
Who lov'd so quickly, and who lov'd so well.
O'er all his Veins the wand'ring Passion burns,
He calls her Nymph, and ev'ry Nymph by turns.
Her Form to lovely Venus he prefers,
Or swears that Venus must be such as hers.
She, proud to rule, yet strangely fram'd to teize,
Neglects his Offers while her Airs she plays,
Shoots scornful Glances from the bended Frown,
In brisk Disorder trips it up and down,
Then hums a careless Tune to lay the Storm,
And sits, and blushes, smiles, and yields, in Form.
Wond'ring he run to catch the falling Star;
But so surpriz'd, as none but he can tell,
Who lov'd so quickly, and who lov'd so well.
O'er all his Veins the wand'ring Passion burns,
He calls her Nymph, and ev'ry Nymph by turns.
Her Form to lovely Venus he prefers,
Or swears that Venus must be such as hers.
She, proud to rule, yet strangely fram'd to teize,
Neglects his Offers while her Airs she plays,
Shoots scornful Glances from the bended Frown,
In brisk Disorder trips it up and down,
Then hums a careless Tune to lay the Storm,
And sits, and blushes, smiles, and yields, in Form.
“Now take what Jove design'd (she softly cry'd)
“This box thy Portion, and my self thy Bride:”
Fir'd with the Prospect of the double Charms,
He snatch'd the Box, and Bride, with eager Arms.
“This box thy Portion, and my self thy Bride:”
Fir'd with the Prospect of the double Charms,
He snatch'd the Box, and Bride, with eager Arms.
Unhappy Man! to whom so bright she shone,
The fatal Gift, her tempting self, unknown!
The Winds were silent, all the Waves asleep,
And Heav'n was trac'd upon the flatt'ring Deep;
But whilst he looks unmindful of a Storm,
And thinks the Water wears a stable Form,
What dreadful Din around his Ears shall rise!
What Frowns confuse his Picture of the Skies!
The fatal Gift, her tempting self, unknown!
The Winds were silent, all the Waves asleep,
And Heav'n was trac'd upon the flatt'ring Deep;
But whilst he looks unmindful of a Storm,
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What dreadful Din around his Ears shall rise!
What Frowns confuse his Picture of the Skies!
At first the Creature Man was fram'd alone,
Lord of himself, and all the World his own.
For him the Nymphs in green forsook the Woods,
For him the Nymphs in blue forsook the Floods,
In vain the Satyrs rage, the Tritons rave,
They bore him Heroes in the secret Cave.
No Care destroy'd, no sick Disorder prey'd,
No bending Age his sprightly Form decay'd,
No Wars were known, no Females heard to rage,
And Poets tell us, 'twas a golden Age.
Lord of himself, and all the World his own.
For him the Nymphs in green forsook the Woods,
For him the Nymphs in blue forsook the Floods,
In vain the Satyrs rage, the Tritons rave,
They bore him Heroes in the secret Cave.
No Care destroy'd, no sick Disorder prey'd,
No bending Age his sprightly Form decay'd,
No Wars were known, no Females heard to rage,
And Poets tell us, 'twas a golden Age.
When Woman came, those Ills the Box confin'd
Burst furious out, and poison'd all the Wind,
From Point to Point, from Pole to Pole they flew,
Spread as they went, and in the Progress grew:
The Nymphs regretting left the mortal Race,
And alt'ring Nature wore a sickly Face:
New Terms of Folly rose, new States of Care;
New Plagues, to suffer, and to please, the Fair!
The Days of whining, and of wild Intrigues,
Commenc'd, or finish'd, with the Breach of Leagues;
The mean Designs of well-dissembled Love;
The sordid Matches never joyn'd above;
Abroad, the Labour, and at home the Noise,
(Man's double Suff'rings for domestick Joys)
The Curse of Jealousy; Expence, and Strife;
Divorce, the publick Brand of shameful Life;
The Rival's Sword; the Qualm that takes the Fair;
Disdain for Passion, Passion in Despair—
These, and a thousand, yet unnam'd, we find;
Ah fear the thousand, yet unnam'd behind!
Burst furious out, and poison'd all the Wind,
From Point to Point, from Pole to Pole they flew,
Spread as they went, and in the Progress grew:
The Nymphs regretting left the mortal Race,
And alt'ring Nature wore a sickly Face:
New Terms of Folly rose, new States of Care;
New Plagues, to suffer, and to please, the Fair!
The Days of whining, and of wild Intrigues,
Commenc'd, or finish'd, with the Breach of Leagues;
The mean Designs of well-dissembled Love;
The sordid Matches never joyn'd above;
Abroad, the Labour, and at home the Noise,
(Man's double Suff'rings for domestick Joys)
The Curse of Jealousy; Expence, and Strife;
Divorce, the publick Brand of shameful Life;
The Rival's Sword; the Qualm that takes the Fair;
Disdain for Passion, Passion in Despair—
These, and a thousand, yet unnam'd, we find;
Ah fear the thousand, yet unnam'd behind!
THUS on Parnassus tuneful Hesiod sung,
The Mountain echo'd, and the Valley rung,
The sacred Groves a fix'd Attention show,
The chrystal Helicon forbore to flow,
The Sky grew bright, and (if his Verse be true)
The Muses came to give the Laurel too.
But what avail'd the verdant Prize of Wit,
If Love swore Vengeance for the Tales he writ?
Ye Fair offended, hear your Friend relate
What heavy Judgment prov'd the Writer's Fate,
Tho' when it happen'd, no Relation clears,
'Tis thought in five, or five and twenty Years.
The Mountain echo'd, and the Valley rung,
The sacred Groves a fix'd Attention show,
The chrystal Helicon forbore to flow,
The Sky grew bright, and (if his Verse be true)
The Muses came to give the Laurel too.
But what avail'd the verdant Prize of Wit,
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Ye Fair offended, hear your Friend relate
What heavy Judgment prov'd the Writer's Fate,
Tho' when it happen'd, no Relation clears,
'Tis thought in five, or five and twenty Years.
Where, dark and silent, with a twisted Shade
The neighb'ring Woods a native Arbour made,
There oft a tender Pair for am'rous Play
Retiring, toy'd the ravish'd Hours away;
A Locrian Youth, the gentle Troilus he,
A fair Milesian, kind Evanthe she:
But swelling Nature in a fatal Hour
Betray'd the Secrets of the conscious Bow'r;
The dire Disgrace her Brothers count their own,
And track her Steps, to make its Author known.
The neighb'ring Woods a native Arbour made,
There oft a tender Pair for am'rous Play
Retiring, toy'd the ravish'd Hours away;
A Locrian Youth, the gentle Troilus he,
A fair Milesian, kind Evanthe she:
But swelling Nature in a fatal Hour
Betray'd the Secrets of the conscious Bow'r;
The dire Disgrace her Brothers count their own,
And track her Steps, to make its Author known.
It chanc'd one Evening, ('twas the Lover's Day)
Conceal'd in Brakes the jealous Kindred lay;
When Hesiod wand'ring, mus'd along the Plain,
And fix'd his Seat where Love had fix'd the Scene:
A strong Suspicion strait possest their Mind,
(For Poets ever were a gentle kind.)
But when Evanthe near the Passage stood,
Flung back a doubtful Look, and shot the Wood,
“Now take, (at once they cry) thy due Reward,”
And urg'd with erring Rage, assault the Bard.
His Corps the Sea receiv'd. The Dolphins bore
('Twas all the Gods would do) the Corps to Shore.
Conceal'd in Brakes the jealous Kindred lay;
When Hesiod wand'ring, mus'd along the Plain,
And fix'd his Seat where Love had fix'd the Scene:
A strong Suspicion strait possest their Mind,
(For Poets ever were a gentle kind.)
But when Evanthe near the Passage stood,
Flung back a doubtful Look, and shot the Wood,
“Now take, (at once they cry) thy due Reward,”
And urg'd with erring Rage, assault the Bard.
His Corps the Sea receiv'd. The Dolphins bore
('Twas all the Gods would do) the Corps to Shore.
Methinks I view the Dead with pitying Eyes,
And see the Dreams of antient Wisdom rise;
I see the Muses round the Body cry,
But hear a Cupid loudly laughing by;
He wheels his Arrow with insulting Hand,
And thus inscribes the Moral on the Sand.
“Here Hesiod lies: Ye future Bards, beware
“How far your Moral Tales incense the Fair:
“Unlov'd, unloving, 'twas his Fate to bleed;
“Without his Quiver Cupid caus'd the Deed:
“He judg'd this Turn of Malice justly due,
“And Hesiod dy'd for Joys he never knew.
And see the Dreams of antient Wisdom rise;
I see the Muses round the Body cry,
But hear a Cupid loudly laughing by;
He wheels his Arrow with insulting Hand,
And thus inscribes the Moral on the Sand.
“Here Hesiod lies: Ye future Bards, beware
“How far your Moral Tales incense the Fair:
“Unlov'd, unloving, 'twas his Fate to bleed;
“Without his Quiver Cupid caus'd the Deed:
“He judg'd this Turn of Malice justly due,
“And Hesiod dy'd for Joys he never knew.
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Song.
When thy Beauty appears
In its Graces and Airs,
All bright as an Angel new dropt from the Sky;
At distance I gaze, and am aw'd by my Fears,
So strangely you dazzle my Eye!
In its Graces and Airs,
All bright as an Angel new dropt from the Sky;
At distance I gaze, and am aw'd by my Fears,
So strangely you dazzle my Eye!
But when without Art,
Your kind Thoughts you impart,
When your Love runs in Blushes thro' ev'ry Vein;
When it darts from your Eyes, when it pants in your Heart,
Then I know you're a Woman again.
Your kind Thoughts you impart,
When your Love runs in Blushes thro' ev'ry Vein;
When it darts from your Eyes, when it pants in your Heart,
Then I know you're a Woman again.
There's a Passion and Pride
In our Sex, (she reply'd,)
And thus (might I gratify both) I wou'd do:
Still an Angel appear to each Lover beside,
But still be a Woman to you.
In our Sex, (she reply'd,)
And thus (might I gratify both) I wou'd do:
Still an Angel appear to each Lover beside,
But still be a Woman to you.
A Song.
Thyrsis
, a young and am'rous Swain,
Saw two, the Beauties of the Plain;
Who both his Heart subdue:
Gay Cælia's Eyes were dazzling fair,
Sabina's easy Shape and Air
With softer Magick drew.
Saw two, the Beauties of the Plain;
Who both his Heart subdue:
Gay Cælia's Eyes were dazzling fair,
Sabina's easy Shape and Air
With softer Magick drew.
He haunts the Stream, he haunts the Grove,
Lives in a fond Romance of Love,
And seems for each to dye;
'Till each a little spiteful grown,
Sabina Cælia's Shape ran down,
And she Sabina's Eye.
Lives in a fond Romance of Love,
And seems for each to dye;
'Till each a little spiteful grown,
Sabina Cælia's Shape ran down,
And she Sabina's Eye.
Their Envy made the Shepherd find
Those Eyes, which Love cou'd only blind;
So set the Lover free:
No more he haunts the Grove or Stream,
Or with a True-love Knot and Name
Engraves a wounded Tree.
Those Eyes, which Love cou'd only blind;
So set the Lover free:
No more he haunts the Grove or Stream,
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Engraves a wounded Tree.
Ah Cælia! (sly Sabina cry'd)
Tho' neither love, we're both deny'd;
Now, to support the Sex's Pride,
Let either fix the Dart.
Poor Girl! (says Cælia) say no more;
For shou'd the Swain but one adore,
That Spite which broke his Chains before,
Wou'd break the other's Heart.
Tho' neither love, we're both deny'd;
Now, to support the Sex's Pride,
Let either fix the Dart.
Poor Girl! (says Cælia) say no more;
For shou'd the Swain but one adore,
That Spite which broke his Chains before,
Wou'd break the other's Heart.
Anacreontick.
When Spring came on with fresh Delight,
To cheer the Soul, and charm the Sight,
While easy Breezes, softer Rain,
And warmer Suns salute the Plain;
'Twas then, in yonder Piny Grove,
That Nature went to meet with Love.
To cheer the Soul, and charm the Sight,
While easy Breezes, softer Rain,
And warmer Suns salute the Plain;
'Twas then, in yonder Piny Grove,
That Nature went to meet with Love.
Green was her Robe, and green her Wreath,
Where-e'er she trod, 'twas green beneath;
Where-e'er she turn'd, the Pulses beat
With new recruits of Genial Heat;
And in her Train the Birds appear,
To match for all the coming Year.
Where-e'er she trod, 'twas green beneath;
Where-e'er she turn'd, the Pulses beat
With new recruits of Genial Heat;
And in her Train the Birds appear,
To match for all the coming Year.
Rais'd on a Bank, where Daizys grew,
And Vi'lets intermix'd a Blew,
She finds the Boy she went to find;
A thousand Pleasures wait behind,
Aside, a thousand Arrows lye,
But all unfeather'd wait to fly.
And Vi'lets intermix'd a Blew,
She finds the Boy she went to find;
A thousand Pleasures wait behind,
Aside, a thousand Arrows lye,
But all unfeather'd wait to fly.
When they met, the Dame and Boy,
Dancing Graces, idle Joy,
Wanton Smiles, and airy Play,
Conspir'd to make the Scene be gay;
Love pair'd the Birds through all the Grove,
And Nature bid them sing to Love,
Sitting, hopping, flutt'ring, sing,
And pay their Tribute from the Wing,
To fledge the Shafts that idly lye,
And yet unfeather'd wait to fly.
Dancing Graces, idle Joy,
Wanton Smiles, and airy Play,
Conspir'd to make the Scene be gay;
Love pair'd the Birds through all the Grove,
And Nature bid them sing to Love,
138
And pay their Tribute from the Wing,
To fledge the Shafts that idly lye,
And yet unfeather'd wait to fly.
'Tis thus, when Spring renews the Blood,
They meet in ev'ry trembling Wood,
And thrice they make the Plumes agree,
And ev'ry Dart they mount with three,
And ev'ry Dart can boast a Kind,
Which suits each proper turn of Mind.
They meet in ev'ry trembling Wood,
And thrice they make the Plumes agree,
And ev'ry Dart they mount with three,
And ev'ry Dart can boast a Kind,
Which suits each proper turn of Mind.
From the tow'ring Eagle's Plume
The Gen'rous Hearts accept their Doom;
Shot by the Peacock's painted Eye
The vain and airy Lovers dye:
For careful Dames and frugal Men,
The Shafts are speckled by the Hen.
The Pyes and Parrots deck the Darts,
When Prattling wins the panting Hearts:
When from the Voice the Passions spring,
The warbling Finch affords a Wing:
Together, by the Sparrow stung,
Down fall the wanton and the young:
And fledg'd by Geese the Weapons fly,
When others love they know not why.
The Gen'rous Hearts accept their Doom;
Shot by the Peacock's painted Eye
The vain and airy Lovers dye:
For careful Dames and frugal Men,
The Shafts are speckled by the Hen.
The Pyes and Parrots deck the Darts,
When Prattling wins the panting Hearts:
When from the Voice the Passions spring,
The warbling Finch affords a Wing:
Together, by the Sparrow stung,
Down fall the wanton and the young:
And fledg'd by Geese the Weapons fly,
When others love they know not why.
All this (as late I chanc'd to rove)
I learn'd in yonder waving Grove.
And see, says Love, (who call'd me near)
How much I deal with Nature here,
How both support a proper Part,
She gives the Feather, I the Dart:
Then cease for Souls averse to sigh,
If Nature cross ye, so do I;
My Weapon there unfeather'd flies,
And shakes and shuffles through the Skies.
But if the mutual Charms I find
By which she links you, Mind to Mind,
They wing my Shafts, I poize the Darts,
And strike from both, through both your Hearts.
I learn'd in yonder waving Grove.
And see, says Love, (who call'd me near)
How much I deal with Nature here,
How both support a proper Part,
She gives the Feather, I the Dart:
Then cease for Souls averse to sigh,
If Nature cross ye, so do I;
My Weapon there unfeather'd flies,
And shakes and shuffles through the Skies.
But if the mutual Charms I find
By which she links you, Mind to Mind,
They wing my Shafts, I poize the Darts,
And strike from both, through both your Hearts.
139
A Fairy Tale in the Ancient English Style.
In
Britain's Isle and Arthur's days,
When Midnight Faeries daunc'd the Maze,
Liv'd Edwin of the Green;
Edwin, I wis, a gentle Youth,
Endow'd with Courage, Sense and Truth,
Tho' badly Shap'd he been.
When Midnight Faeries daunc'd the Maze,
Liv'd Edwin of the Green;
Edwin, I wis, a gentle Youth,
Endow'd with Courage, Sense and Truth,
Tho' badly Shap'd he been.
His Mountain Back mote well be said
To measure heigth against his Head,
And lift it self above:
Yet spite of all that Nature did
To make his uncouth Form forbid,
This Creature dar'd to love.
To measure heigth against his Head,
And lift it self above:
Yet spite of all that Nature did
To make his uncouth Form forbid,
This Creature dar'd to love.
He felt the Charms of Edith's Eyes,
Nor wanted Hope to gain the Prize,
Cou'd Ladies took within;
But one Sir Topaz dress'd with Art,
And, if a Shape cou'd win a Heart,
He had a Shape to win.
Nor wanted Hope to gain the Prize,
Cou'd Ladies took within;
But one Sir Topaz dress'd with Art,
And, if a Shape cou'd win a Heart,
He had a Shape to win.
Edwin (if right I read my Song)
With slighted Passion pac'd along
All in the Moony Light:
'Twas near an old enchaunted Court,
Where sportive Faeries made Resort
To revel out the Night.
With slighted Passion pac'd along
All in the Moony Light:
'Twas near an old enchaunted Court,
Where sportive Faeries made Resort
To revel out the Night.
His Heart was drear, his Hope was cross'd,
'Twas late, 'twas farr, the Path was lost
That reach'd the Neighbour-Town;
With weary Steps he quits the Shades,
Resolv'd the darkling Dome he treads,
And drops his Limbs adown.
'Twas late, 'twas farr, the Path was lost
That reach'd the Neighbour-Town;
With weary Steps he quits the Shades,
Resolv'd the darkling Dome he treads,
And drops his Limbs adown.
But scant he lays him on the Floor,
When hollow Winds remove the Door,
A trembling rocks the Ground:
And (well I ween to count aright)
At once an hundred Tapers light
On all the Walls around.
When hollow Winds remove the Door,
A trembling rocks the Ground:
And (well I ween to count aright)
140
On all the Walls around.
Now sounding Tongues assail his Ear,
Now sounding Feet approachen near,
And now the Sounds encrease:
And from the Corner where he lay
He sees a Train profusely gay
Come pranckling o'er the Place.
Now sounding Feet approachen near,
And now the Sounds encrease:
And from the Corner where he lay
He sees a Train profusely gay
Come pranckling o'er the Place.
But (trust me Gentles!) never yet
Was dight a Masquing half so neat,
Or half so rich before;
The Country lent the sweet Perfumes,
The Sea the Pearl, the Sky the Plumes,
The Town its silken Store.
Was dight a Masquing half so neat,
Or half so rich before;
The Country lent the sweet Perfumes,
The Sea the Pearl, the Sky the Plumes,
The Town its silken Store.
Now whilst he gaz'd, a Gallant drest
In flaunting Robes above the rest,
With awfull Accent cry'd;
What Mortall of a wretched Mind,
Whose Sighs infect the balmy Wind,
Has here presum'd to hide?
In flaunting Robes above the rest,
With awfull Accent cry'd;
What Mortall of a wretched Mind,
Whose Sighs infect the balmy Wind,
Has here presum'd to hide?
At this the Swain whose vent'rous Soul
No Fears of Magick Art controul,
Advanc'd in open sight;
‘Nor have I Cause of Dreed, he said,
‘Who view by no Presumption led
‘Your Revels of the Night.
No Fears of Magick Art controul,
Advanc'd in open sight;
‘Nor have I Cause of Dreed, he said,
‘Who view by no Presumption led
‘Your Revels of the Night.
‘'Twas Grief, for Scorn of faithful Love,
‘Which made my Steps unweeting rove
‘Amid the nightly Dew.
'Tis well, the Gallant crys again,
We Faeries never injure Men
Who dare to tell us true.
‘Which made my Steps unweeting rove
‘Amid the nightly Dew.
'Tis well, the Gallant crys again,
We Faeries never injure Men
Who dare to tell us true.
Exalt thy Love-dejected Heart,
Be mine the Task, or e'er we part,
To make thee Grief resign;
Now take the Pleasure of thy Chaunce;
Whilst I with Mab my part'ner daunce,
Be little Mable thine.
Be mine the Task, or e'er we part,
To make thee Grief resign;
Now take the Pleasure of thy Chaunce;
141
Be little Mable thine.
He spoke, and all a sudden there
Light Musick floats in wanton Air;
The Monarch leads the Queen:
The rest their Faerie Partners found,
And Mable trimly tript the Ground
With Edwin of the Green.
Light Musick floats in wanton Air;
The Monarch leads the Queen:
The rest their Faerie Partners found,
And Mable trimly tript the Ground
With Edwin of the Green.
The Dauncing past, the Board was laid,
And siker such a Feast was made
As Heart and Lip desire;
Withouten Hands the Dishes fly,
The Glasses with a Wish come nigh,
And with a Wish retire.
And siker such a Feast was made
As Heart and Lip desire;
Withouten Hands the Dishes fly,
The Glasses with a Wish come nigh,
And with a Wish retire.
But now to please the Faerie King,
Full ev'ry deal they laugh and sing,
And antick Feats devise;
Some wind and tumble like an Ape,
And other-some transmute their Shape
In Edwin's wond'ring Eyes.
Full ev'ry deal they laugh and sing,
And antick Feats devise;
Some wind and tumble like an Ape,
And other-some transmute their Shape
In Edwin's wond'ring Eyes.
'Till one at last that Robin hight,
(Renown'd for pinching Maids by Night)
Has hent him up aloof;
And full against the Beam he flung,
Where by the Back the Youth he hung
To spraul unneath the Roof.
(Renown'd for pinching Maids by Night)
Has hent him up aloof;
And full against the Beam he flung,
Where by the Back the Youth he hung
To spraul unneath the Roof.
From thence, “Reverse my Charm, he crys,
“And let it fairely now suffice
“The Gambol has been shown.
But Oberon answers with a Smile,
Content thee Edwin for a while,
The Vantage is thine own.
“And let it fairely now suffice
“The Gambol has been shown.
But Oberon answers with a Smile,
Content thee Edwin for a while,
The Vantage is thine own.
Here ended all the Phantome-play;
They smelt the fresh Approach of Day,
And heard a Cock to crow;
The whirling Wind that bore the Crowd
Has clap'd the Door, and whistled loud,
To warn them all to go.
They smelt the fresh Approach of Day,
And heard a Cock to crow;
The whirling Wind that bore the Crowd
142
To warn them all to go.
Then screaming all at once they fly,
And all at once the Tapers dy;
Poor Edwin falls to Floor;
Forlorn his State, and dark the Place,
Was never Wight in sike a Case
Through all the Land before.
And all at once the Tapers dy;
Poor Edwin falls to Floor;
Forlorn his State, and dark the Place,
Was never Wight in sike a Case
Through all the Land before.
But soon as Dan Apollo rose,
Full Jolly Creature home he goes,
He feels his Back the less;
His honest Tongue and steady Mind
Han rid him of the Lump behind
Which made him want Success.
Full Jolly Creature home he goes,
He feels his Back the less;
His honest Tongue and steady Mind
Han rid him of the Lump behind
Which made him want Success.
With lusty livelyhed he talks,
He seems a dauncing as he walks,
His Story soon took wind;
And beautious Edith sees the Youth,
Endow'd with Courage, Sense and Truth,
Without a Bunch behind.
He seems a dauncing as he walks,
His Story soon took wind;
And beautious Edith sees the Youth,
Endow'd with Courage, Sense and Truth,
Without a Bunch behind.
The Story told, Sir Topaz mov'd,
(The Youth of Edith erst approv'd)
To see the Revel Scene:
At close of Eve he leaves his home,
And wends to find the ruin'd Dome
All on the gloomy Plain.
(The Youth of Edith erst approv'd)
To see the Revel Scene:
At close of Eve he leaves his home,
And wends to find the ruin'd Dome
All on the gloomy Plain.
As there he bides, it so befell,
The Wind came rustling down a Dell,
A shaking seiz'd the Wall:
Up spring the Tapers as before,
The Faeries bragly foot the Floor,
And Musick fills the Hall.
The Wind came rustling down a Dell,
A shaking seiz'd the Wall:
Up spring the Tapers as before,
The Faeries bragly foot the Floor,
And Musick fills the Hall.
But certes sorely sunk with woe
Sir Topaz sees the Elphin show,
His Spirits in him dy:
When Oberon crys, ‘a Man is near,
‘A mortall Passion, cleeped Fear,
‘Hangs flagging in the Sky.
Sir Topaz sees the Elphin show,
His Spirits in him dy:
When Oberon crys, ‘a Man is near,
143
‘Hangs flagging in the Sky.
With that Sir Topaz (Hapless Youth!)
In Accents fault'ring ay for Ruth
Intreats them Pity graunt;
For als he been a mister Wight
Betray'd by wand'ring in the Night
To tread the circled Haunt;
In Accents fault'ring ay for Ruth
Intreats them Pity graunt;
For als he been a mister Wight
Betray'd by wand'ring in the Night
To tread the circled Haunt;
‘Ah Losell Vile, at once they roar!
‘And little skill'd of Faerie lore,
‘Thy Cause to come we know:
‘Now has thy Kestrell Courage fell;
‘And Faeries, since a Ly you tell,
‘Are free to work thee Woe.
‘And little skill'd of Faerie lore,
‘Thy Cause to come we know:
‘Now has thy Kestrell Courage fell;
‘And Faeries, since a Ly you tell,
‘Are free to work thee Woe.
Then Will, who bears the wispy Fire
To trail the Swains among the Mire,
The Caitive upward flung;
There like a Tortoise in a Shop
He dangled from the Chamber-top,
Where whilome Edwin hung.
To trail the Swains among the Mire,
The Caitive upward flung;
There like a Tortoise in a Shop
He dangled from the Chamber-top,
Where whilome Edwin hung.
The Revel now proceeds apace,
Deffly they frisk it o'er the Place,
They sit, they drink, and eat;
The time with frolick Mirth beguile,
And poor Sir Topaz hangs the while
'Till all the Rout retreat.
Deffly they frisk it o'er the Place,
They sit, they drink, and eat;
The time with frolick Mirth beguile,
And poor Sir Topaz hangs the while
'Till all the Rout retreat.
By this the Starrs began to wink,
They skriek, they fly, the Tapers sink,
And down ydrops the Knight.
For never Spell by Faerie laid
With strong Enchantment bound a Glade
Beyond the length of Night.
They skriek, they fly, the Tapers sink,
And down ydrops the Knight.
For never Spell by Faerie laid
With strong Enchantment bound a Glade
Beyond the length of Night.
Chill, dark, alone, adreed, he lay,
'Till up the Welkin rose the Day,
Then deem'd the Dole was o'er:
But wot ye well his harder Lot?
His seely Back the Bunch has got
Which Edwin lost afore.
'Till up the Welkin rose the Day,
Then deem'd the Dole was o'er:
But wot ye well his harder Lot?
144
Which Edwin lost afore.
This Tale a Sybil-Nurse ared;
She softly strok'd my youngling Head,
And when the Tale was done,
‘Thus some are born, my Son (she cries)
‘With base Impediments to rise,
‘And some are born with none.
She softly strok'd my youngling Head,
And when the Tale was done,
‘Thus some are born, my Son (she cries)
‘With base Impediments to rise,
‘And some are born with none.
‘But Virtue can it self advance
‘To what the Fav'rite Fools of Chance
‘By Fortune seem'd design'd;
‘Virtue can gain the Odds of Fate,
‘And from it self shake off the Weight
‘Upon th' unworthy Mind.
‘To what the Fav'rite Fools of Chance
‘By Fortune seem'd design'd;
‘Virtue can gain the Odds of Fate,
‘And from it self shake off the Weight
‘Upon th' unworthy Mind.
147
The Vigil of Venus .
Let
those love now, who never lov'd before,
Let those who always lov'd, now love the more.
Let those who always lov'd, now love the more.
The Spring, the new, the warb'ling Spring appears,
The youthful Season of reviving Years;
In Spring the Loves enkindle mutual Heats,
The feather'd Nation chuse their tuneful Mates,
The Trees grow fruitful with descending Rain
And drest in diff'ring Greens adorn the Plain.
She comes; to morrow Beauty's Empress roves
Thro' Walks that winding run within the Groves;
She twines the shooting Myrtle into Bow'rs,
And ties their meeting Tops with Wreaths of Flow'rs,
Then rais'd sublimely on her easy Throne
From Nature's pow'rful Dictates draws her own.
Let those love now, who never lov'd before,
Let those who always lov'd, now love the more.
The youthful Season of reviving Years;
In Spring the Loves enkindle mutual Heats,
The feather'd Nation chuse their tuneful Mates,
The Trees grow fruitful with descending Rain
And drest in diff'ring Greens adorn the Plain.
She comes; to morrow Beauty's Empress roves
Thro' Walks that winding run within the Groves;
She twines the shooting Myrtle into Bow'rs,
And ties their meeting Tops with Wreaths of Flow'rs,
Then rais'd sublimely on her easy Throne
From Nature's pow'rful Dictates draws her own.
Let those love now, who never lov'd before,
Let those who always lov'd, now love the more.
'Twas on that Day which saw the teeming Flood
Swell round, impregnate with celestial Blood;
Wand'ring in Circles stood the finny Crew,
The midst was left a void Expanse of Blue,
There Parent Ocean work'd with heaving Throes,
And dropping wet the fair Dione rose.
Let those love now, who never lov'd before,
Let those who always lov'd, now love the more.
Swell round, impregnate with celestial Blood;
Wand'ring in Circles stood the finny Crew,
The midst was left a void Expanse of Blue,
There Parent Ocean work'd with heaving Throes,
And dropping wet the fair Dione rose.
Let those love now, who never lov'd before,
Let those who always lov'd, now love the more.
She paints the purple Year with vary'd show,
Tips the green Gem, and makes the Blossom glow.
She makes the turgid Buds receive the Breeze,
Expand to Leaves, and shade the naked Trees.
When gath'ring damps the misty Nights diffuse,
She sprinkles all the Morn with balmy Dews;
Bright trembling Pearls depend at ev'ry spray,
And kept from falling, seem to fall away.
A glossy Freshness hence the Rose receives,
And blushes sweet through all her silken Leaves;
(The Drops descending through the silent Night,
While Stars serenely roll their golden Light,)
Close 'till the Morn, her humid Veil she holds;
Then deckt with Virgin Pomp the Flow'r unfolds.
Soon will the Morning blush: Ye Maids! prepare,
In rosy Garlands bind your flowing Hair
'Tis Venus' Plant: The Blood fair Venus shed,
O'er the gay Beauty pour'd immortal Red;
From Love's soft Kiss a sweet Ambrosial Smell
Was taught for ever on the Leaves to dwell;
From Gemms, from Flames, from orient Rays of Light
The richest Lustre makes her Purple bright;
And she to morrow weds; the sporting Gale
Unties her Zone, she bursts the verdant Veil;
Thro' all her Sweets the rifling Lover flies,
And as he breaths, her glowing Fires arise.
Let those love now, who never lov'd before,
Let those who always lov'd, now love the more.
Tips the green Gem, and makes the Blossom glow.
She makes the turgid Buds receive the Breeze,
Expand to Leaves, and shade the naked Trees.
When gath'ring damps the misty Nights diffuse,
She sprinkles all the Morn with balmy Dews;
Bright trembling Pearls depend at ev'ry spray,
149
A glossy Freshness hence the Rose receives,
And blushes sweet through all her silken Leaves;
(The Drops descending through the silent Night,
While Stars serenely roll their golden Light,)
Close 'till the Morn, her humid Veil she holds;
Then deckt with Virgin Pomp the Flow'r unfolds.
Soon will the Morning blush: Ye Maids! prepare,
In rosy Garlands bind your flowing Hair
'Tis Venus' Plant: The Blood fair Venus shed,
O'er the gay Beauty pour'd immortal Red;
From Love's soft Kiss a sweet Ambrosial Smell
Was taught for ever on the Leaves to dwell;
From Gemms, from Flames, from orient Rays of Light
The richest Lustre makes her Purple bright;
And she to morrow weds; the sporting Gale
Unties her Zone, she bursts the verdant Veil;
Thro' all her Sweets the rifling Lover flies,
And as he breaths, her glowing Fires arise.
Let those love now, who never lov'd before,
Let those who always lov'd, now love the more.
Now fair Dione to the Myrtle Grove
Sends the gay Nymphs, and sends her tender Love.
And shall they venture? is it safe to go?
While Nymphs have Hearts, and Cupid wears a Bow?
Yes safely venture, 'tis his Mother's Will;
He walks unarm'd and undesigning ill,
His Torch extinct, his Quiver useless hung,
His Arrows idle, and his Bow unstrung.
And yet, ye Nymphs, beware, his Eyes have Charms,
And Love that's naked, still is Love in Arms.
Let those love now, who never lov'd before,
Let those who always lov'd, now love the more.
Sends the gay Nymphs, and sends her tender Love.
And shall they venture? is it safe to go?
While Nymphs have Hearts, and Cupid wears a Bow?
Yes safely venture, 'tis his Mother's Will;
He walks unarm'd and undesigning ill,
His Torch extinct, his Quiver useless hung,
His Arrows idle, and his Bow unstrung.
And yet, ye Nymphs, beware, his Eyes have Charms,
And Love that's naked, still is Love in Arms.
Let those love now, who never lov'd before,
Let those who always lov'd, now love the more.
From Venus Bow'r to Delia's Lodge repairs
A Virgin Train compleat with modest Airs:
‘Chast Delia! grant our Suit! or shun the Wood,
‘Nor stain this sacred Lawn with savage Blood.
‘Venis, O Delia! if she cou'd persuade,
‘Wou'd ask thy Presence, might she ask a Maid.
Here chearful Quires for three auspicious Nights
With Songs prolong the pleasurable Rites:
Here Crouds in Measures lightly-decent rove;
Or seek by Pairs the Covert of the Grove,
Where meeting Greens for Arbours arch above,
And mingling Flowrets strow the Scenes of Love.
Here dancing Ceres shakes her golden Sheaves:
Here Bacchus revels, deckt with viny Leaves:
Here Wit's enchanting God in Lawrel crown'd
Wakes all the ravish'd Hours with silver Sound.
Ye Fields, ye Forests, own Dione's Reign,
And Delia, Huntress Delia, shun the Plain.
Let those love now, who never lov'd before,
Let those who always lov'd, now love the more.
A Virgin Train compleat with modest Airs:
‘Chast Delia! grant our Suit! or shun the Wood,
‘Nor stain this sacred Lawn with savage Blood.
‘Venis, O Delia! if she cou'd persuade,
‘Wou'd ask thy Presence, might she ask a Maid.
151
With Songs prolong the pleasurable Rites:
Here Crouds in Measures lightly-decent rove;
Or seek by Pairs the Covert of the Grove,
Where meeting Greens for Arbours arch above,
And mingling Flowrets strow the Scenes of Love.
Here dancing Ceres shakes her golden Sheaves:
Here Bacchus revels, deckt with viny Leaves:
Here Wit's enchanting God in Lawrel crown'd
Wakes all the ravish'd Hours with silver Sound.
Ye Fields, ye Forests, own Dione's Reign,
And Delia, Huntress Delia, shun the Plain.
Let those love now, who never lov'd before,
Let those who always lov'd, now love the more.
Gay with the Bloom of all her opening Year,
The Queen at Hybla bids her Throne appear;
And there presides; and there the fav'rite Band
(Her smiling Graces) share the great Command.
Now beauteous Hybla! dress thy flow'ry Beds
With all the Pride the lavish Season sheds,
Now all thy Colours, all thy Fragrance yield,
And rival Enna's Aromatick Field.
To fill the Presence of the gentle Court
From ev'ry Quarter rural Nymphs resort,
From Woods, from Mountains, from their humble Vales,
From Waters curling with the wanton Gales.
Pleas'd with the joyful Train, the laughing Queen
In Circles seats them round the Bank of green;
And 'lovely Girls, (she whispers) guard your Hearts;
‘My Boy, tho' stript of Arms, abounds in Arts.
Let those love now, who never lov'd before,
Let those who always lov'd, now love the more.
The Queen at Hybla bids her Throne appear;
And there presides; and there the fav'rite Band
(Her smiling Graces) share the great Command.
Now beauteous Hybla! dress thy flow'ry Beds
With all the Pride the lavish Season sheds,
Now all thy Colours, all thy Fragrance yield,
And rival Enna's Aromatick Field.
To fill the Presence of the gentle Court
From ev'ry Quarter rural Nymphs resort,
From Woods, from Mountains, from their humble Vales,
From Waters curling with the wanton Gales.
Pleas'd with the joyful Train, the laughing Queen
In Circles seats them round the Bank of green;
And 'lovely Girls, (she whispers) guard your Hearts;
‘My Boy, tho' stript of Arms, abounds in Arts.
Let those love now, who never lov'd before,
Let those who always lov'd, now love the more.
Let tender Grass in shaded Allys spread,
Let early Flow'rs erect their painted Head.
To morrow's Glory be to morrow seen,
That Day, old Ether wedded Earth in green.
The Vernal Father bid the Spring appear,
In Clouds he coupled to produce the Year,
The Sap descending o'er her Bosom ran,
And all the various sorts of Soul began.
By Wheels unknown to Sight, by secret Veins
Distilling Life, the fruitful Goddess reigns,
Through all the lovely Realms of native Day,
Through all the circled Land, and circling Sea;
With fertil Seed she fill'd the pervious Earth,
And ever fix'd the mystick Ways of Birth.
Let those love now, who never lov'd before,
Let those who always lov'd, now love the more.
Let early Flow'rs erect their painted Head.
To morrow's Glory be to morrow seen,
That Day, old Ether wedded Earth in green.
The Vernal Father bid the Spring appear,
In Clouds he coupled to produce the Year,
The Sap descending o'er her Bosom ran,
153
By Wheels unknown to Sight, by secret Veins
Distilling Life, the fruitful Goddess reigns,
Through all the lovely Realms of native Day,
Through all the circled Land, and circling Sea;
With fertil Seed she fill'd the pervious Earth,
And ever fix'd the mystick Ways of Birth.
Let those love now, who never lov'd before,
Let those who always lov'd, now love the more.
'Twas she the Parent, to the Latian Shore
Through various Dangers Troy's Remainder bore.
She won Lavinia for her warlike Son,
And winning her, the Latian Empire won.
She gave to Mars the Maid, whose honour'd Womb
Swell'd with the Founder of immortal Rome.
Decoy'd by Shows the Sabin Dames she led,
And taught our vig'rous Youth the Means to wed.
Hence sprung the Romans, hence the Race divine
Thro' which great Cæsar draws his Julian Line.
Let those love now, who never lov'd before,
Let those who always lov'd, now love the more.
Through various Dangers Troy's Remainder bore.
She won Lavinia for her warlike Son,
And winning her, the Latian Empire won.
She gave to Mars the Maid, whose honour'd Womb
Swell'd with the Founder of immortal Rome.
Decoy'd by Shows the Sabin Dames she led,
And taught our vig'rous Youth the Means to wed.
Hence sprung the Romans, hence the Race divine
Thro' which great Cæsar draws his Julian Line.
Let those love now, who never lov'd before,
Let those who always lov'd, now love the more.
In rural Seats the Soul of Pleasure reigns;
The Life of Beauty fills the rural Scenes;
Ev'n Love (if Fame the Truth of Love declare)
Drew first the breathings of a rural Air.
Some pleasing Meadow pregnant Beauty prest,
She laid her Infant on its flow'ry Breast,
From Nature's Sweets he sipp'd the fragrant Dew,
He smil'd, he kiss'd them, and by kissing grew.
Let those love now, who never lov'd before,
Let those who always lov'd, now love the more.
The Life of Beauty fills the rural Scenes;
Ev'n Love (if Fame the Truth of Love declare)
Drew first the breathings of a rural Air.
Some pleasing Meadow pregnant Beauty prest,
She laid her Infant on its flow'ry Breast,
From Nature's Sweets he sipp'd the fragrant Dew,
He smil'd, he kiss'd them, and by kissing grew.
Let those love now, who never lov'd before,
Let those who always lov'd, now love the more.
Now Bulls o'er Stalks of Broom extend their Sides,
Secure of Favours from their lowing Brides.
Now stately Rams their fleecy Consorts lead,
Who bleating follow thro' the wand'ring Shade.
And now the Goddess bids the Birds appear,
Raise all their Musick, and salute the Year:
Then deep the Swan begins, and deep the Song
Runs o'er the Water where he sails along;
While Philomela tunes a treble Strain,
And from the Poplar charms the list'ning Plain.
We fancy Love exprest at ev'ry Note,
It melts, it warbles, in her liquid Throat.
Of barb'rous Tereus she complains no more,
But sings for Pleasure as for Grief before.
And still her Graces rise, her Airs extend,
And all is Silence 'till the Syren end.
Secure of Favours from their lowing Brides.
Now stately Rams their fleecy Consorts lead,
Who bleating follow thro' the wand'ring Shade.
And now the Goddess bids the Birds appear,
Raise all their Musick, and salute the Year:
155
Runs o'er the Water where he sails along;
While Philomela tunes a treble Strain,
And from the Poplar charms the list'ning Plain.
We fancy Love exprest at ev'ry Note,
It melts, it warbles, in her liquid Throat.
Of barb'rous Tereus she complains no more,
But sings for Pleasure as for Grief before.
And still her Graces rise, her Airs extend,
And all is Silence 'till the Syren end.
How long in coming is my lovely Spring?
And when shall I, and when the Swallow sing?
Sweet Philomela cease,—Or here I sit,
And silent lose my rapt'rous Hour of Wit:
'Tis gone, the Fit retires, the Flames decay,
My tuneful Phœbus flies averse away.
His own Amycle thus, as Stories run,
But once was silent, and that once undone.
Let those love now, who never lov'd before,
Let those who always lov'd, now love the more.
And when shall I, and when the Swallow sing?
Sweet Philomela cease,—Or here I sit,
And silent lose my rapt'rous Hour of Wit:
'Tis gone, the Fit retires, the Flames decay,
My tuneful Phœbus flies averse away.
His own Amycle thus, as Stories run,
But once was silent, and that once undone.
Let those love now, who never lov'd before,
Let those who always lov'd, now love the more.
156
Health, an Eclogue.
Now early Shepherds o'er the Meadow pass,
And print long Foot-steps in the glittering Grass;
The Cows neglectful of their Pasture stand,
By turns obsequious to the Milker's Hand.
And print long Foot-steps in the glittering Grass;
The Cows neglectful of their Pasture stand,
By turns obsequious to the Milker's Hand.
When Damon softly trod the shaven Lawn,
Damon a Youth from City Cares withdrawn;
Long was the pleasing Walk he wander'd thro',
A cover'd Arbour clos'd the distant view;
There rests the Youth, and while the feather'd Throng
Raise their wild Musick, thus contrives a Song.
Damon a Youth from City Cares withdrawn;
Long was the pleasing Walk he wander'd thro',
A cover'd Arbour clos'd the distant view;
There rests the Youth, and while the feather'd Throng
Raise their wild Musick, thus contrives a Song.
Here wafted o'er by mild Etesian Air,
Thou Country Goddess, beauteous Health! repair;
Here let my Breast thro' quiv'ring Trees inhale
Thy rosy Blessings with the Morning Gale.
What are the Fields, or Flow'rs, or all I see?
Ah! tastless all, if not enjoy'd with thee.
Thou Country Goddess, beauteous Health! repair;
Here let my Breast thro' quiv'ring Trees inhale
Thy rosy Blessings with the Morning Gale.
What are the Fields, or Flow'rs, or all I see?
Ah! tastless all, if not enjoy'd with thee.
Joy to my Soul! I feel the Goddess nigh,
The Face of Nature cheers as well as I;
O'er the flat Green refreshing Breezes run,
The smiling Dazies blow beneath the Sun,
The Brooks run purling down with silver Waves,
The planted Lanes rejoice with dancing Leaves,
The chirping Birds from all the Compass rove
To tempt the tuneful Echoes of the Grove:
High sunny Summits, deeply shaded Dales,
Thick Mossy Banks, and flow'ry winding Vales,
With various Prospect gratify the Sight,
And scatter fix'd Attention in Delight.
The Face of Nature cheers as well as I;
O'er the flat Green refreshing Breezes run,
The smiling Dazies blow beneath the Sun,
The Brooks run purling down with silver Waves,
The planted Lanes rejoice with dancing Leaves,
The chirping Birds from all the Compass rove
To tempt the tuneful Echoes of the Grove:
High sunny Summits, deeply shaded Dales,
Thick Mossy Banks, and flow'ry winding Vales,
With various Prospect gratify the Sight,
And scatter fix'd Attention in Delight.
Come, Country Goddess, come, nor thou suffice,
But bring thy Mountain-Sister, Exercise.
Call'd by thy lively Voice, she turns her Pace,
Her winding Horn proclaims the finish'd Chace;
She mounts the Rocks, she skims the level Plain,
Dogs, Hawks, and Horses, crowd her early Train;
Her hardy Face repels the tanning Wind,
And Lines and Meshes loosely float behind.
All these as Means of Toil the Feeble see,
But these are helps to Pleasure join'd with thee.
But bring thy Mountain-Sister, Exercise.
Call'd by thy lively Voice, she turns her Pace,
Her winding Horn proclaims the finish'd Chace;
She mounts the Rocks, she skims the level Plain,
Dogs, Hawks, and Horses, crowd her early Train;
Her hardy Face repels the tanning Wind,
And Lines and Meshes loosely float behind.
157
But these are helps to Pleasure join'd with thee.
Let Sloth lye softning 'till high Noon in Down,
Or lolling fan her in the sult'ry Town,
Unnerv'd with Rest; and turn her own Disease,
Or foster others in luxurious Ease:
I mount the Courser, call the deep mouth'd Hounds,
The Fox unkennell'd flies to covert Grounds;
I lead where Stags thro' tangled Thickets tread,
And shake the Saplings with their branching Head;
I make the Faulcons wing their airy Way,
And soar to seize, or stooping strike their Prey;
To snare the Fish I fix the luring Bait;
To wound the Fowl I load the Gun with Fate.
'Tis thus thro' change of Exercise I range,
And Strength and Pleasure rise from ev'ry Change.
Here beautious Health for all the Year remain,
When the next comes, I'll charm thee thus again.
Or lolling fan her in the sult'ry Town,
Unnerv'd with Rest; and turn her own Disease,
Or foster others in luxurious Ease:
I mount the Courser, call the deep mouth'd Hounds,
The Fox unkennell'd flies to covert Grounds;
I lead where Stags thro' tangled Thickets tread,
And shake the Saplings with their branching Head;
I make the Faulcons wing their airy Way,
And soar to seize, or stooping strike their Prey;
To snare the Fish I fix the luring Bait;
To wound the Fowl I load the Gun with Fate.
'Tis thus thro' change of Exercise I range,
And Strength and Pleasure rise from ev'ry Change.
Here beautious Health for all the Year remain,
When the next comes, I'll charm thee thus again.
Oh come, thou Goddess of my rural Song,
And bring thy Daughter, calm Content, along,
Dame of the ruddy Cheek and laughing Eye,
From whose bright Presence Clouds of Sorrow fly:
For her I mow my Walks, I platt my Bow'rs,
Clip my low Hedges, and support my Flow'rs;
To welcome her, this Summer Seat I drest,
And here I court her when she comes to Rest;
When she from Exercise to learned Ease
Shall change again, and teach the Change to please.
And bring thy Daughter, calm Content, along,
Dame of the ruddy Cheek and laughing Eye,
From whose bright Presence Clouds of Sorrow fly:
For her I mow my Walks, I platt my Bow'rs,
Clip my low Hedges, and support my Flow'rs;
To welcome her, this Summer Seat I drest,
And here I court her when she comes to Rest;
When she from Exercise to learned Ease
Shall change again, and teach the Change to please.
Now Friends conversing my soft Hours refine,
And Tully's Tusculum revives in mine:
Now to grave Books I bid the Mind retreat,
And such as make me rather Good than Great.
Or o'er the Works of easy Fancy rove,
Where Flutes and Innocence amuse the Grove:
The native Bard that on Sicilian Plains
First sung the lowly Manners of the Swains;
Or Maro's Muse, that in the fairest Light
Paints rural Prospects and the Charms of Sight;
These soft Amusements bring Content along,
And Fancy, void of Sorrow, turns to Song.
Here beauteous Health for all the Year remain,
When the next comes, I'll charm thee thus again.
And Tully's Tusculum revives in mine:
Now to grave Books I bid the Mind retreat,
And such as make me rather Good than Great.
Or o'er the Works of easy Fancy rove,
Where Flutes and Innocence amuse the Grove:
The native Bard that on Sicilian Plains
First sung the lowly Manners of the Swains;
Or Maro's Muse, that in the fairest Light
Paints rural Prospects and the Charms of Sight;
These soft Amusements bring Content along,
And Fancy, void of Sorrow, turns to Song.
158
When the next comes, I'll charm thee thus again.
The Flies. An Eclogue.
When in the River Cows for Coolness stand,
And Sheep for Breezes seek the lofty Land,
A Youth whom Æsop taught that ev'ry Tree
Each Bird and Insect spoke as well as he:
Walk'd calmly musing in a shaded Way
Where flow'ring Hawthorn broke the sunny Ray,
And thus instructs his Moral Pen to draw
A Scene that obvious in the Field he saw.
And Sheep for Breezes seek the lofty Land,
A Youth whom Æsop taught that ev'ry Tree
Each Bird and Insect spoke as well as he:
Walk'd calmly musing in a shaded Way
Where flow'ring Hawthorn broke the sunny Ray,
And thus instructs his Moral Pen to draw
A Scene that obvious in the Field he saw.
Near a low Ditch, where shallow Waters meet,
Which never learnt to glide with liquid Feet,
Whose Naiads never prattle as they play,
But screen'd with Hedges slumber out the Day,
There stands a slender Fern's aspiring Shade,
Whose answ'ring Branches regularly layd
Put forth their answ'ring Boughs, and proudly rise
Three Stories upward, in the nether Skies.
Which never learnt to glide with liquid Feet,
Whose Naiads never prattle as they play,
But screen'd with Hedges slumber out the Day,
There stands a slender Fern's aspiring Shade,
Whose answ'ring Branches regularly layd
Put forth their answ'ring Boughs, and proudly rise
Three Stories upward, in the nether Skies.
For Shelter here, to shun the Noon-day Heat,
An airy Nation of the Flies retreat;
Some in soft Air their silken Pinions ply,
And some from Bough to Bough delighted fly,
Some rise, and circling light to perch again;
A pleasing Murmur hums along the Plain.
So, when a Stage invites to pageant Shows,
(If great and small are like) appear the Beaus,
In Boxes some with spruce Pretension sit,
Some change from Seat to Seat within the Pit,
Some roam the Scenes, or turning cease to roam;
Preluding Musick fills the lofty Dome.
An airy Nation of the Flies retreat;
Some in soft Air their silken Pinions ply,
And some from Bough to Bough delighted fly,
Some rise, and circling light to perch again;
A pleasing Murmur hums along the Plain.
So, when a Stage invites to pageant Shows,
(If great and small are like) appear the Beaus,
In Boxes some with spruce Pretension sit,
Some change from Seat to Seat within the Pit,
Some roam the Scenes, or turning cease to roam;
Preluding Musick fills the lofty Dome.
When thus a Fly (if what a Fly can say
Deserves attention) rais'd the rural Lay.
Deserves attention) rais'd the rural Lay.
Where late Amintor made a Nymph a Bride,
Joyful I flew by young Favonia's side,
Who, mindless of the Feasting, went to sip
The balmy Pleasure of the Shepherd's Lip.
I saw the Wanton, where I stoop'd to sup,
And half resolv'd to drown me in the Cup;
'Till brush'd by careless Hands, she soar'd above:
Cease, Beauty, cease to vex a tender Love.
Joyful I flew by young Favonia's side,
159
The balmy Pleasure of the Shepherd's Lip.
I saw the Wanton, where I stoop'd to sup,
And half resolv'd to drown me in the Cup;
'Till brush'd by careless Hands, she soar'd above:
Cease, Beauty, cease to vex a tender Love.
Thus ends the Youth, the buzzing Meadow rung,
And thus the Rival of his Musick sung.
And thus the Rival of his Musick sung.
When Suns by thousands shone in Orbs of Dew,
I wafted soft with Zephyretta flew;
Saw the clean Pail, and sought the milky Chear,
While little Daphne seiz'd my roving Dear.
Wretch that I was! I might have warn'd the Dame,
Yet sat indulging as the Danger came,
But the kind Huntress left her free to soar:
Ah! guard, ye Lovers, guard a Mistress more.
I wafted soft with Zephyretta flew;
Saw the clean Pail, and sought the milky Chear,
While little Daphne seiz'd my roving Dear.
Wretch that I was! I might have warn'd the Dame,
Yet sat indulging as the Danger came,
But the kind Huntress left her free to soar:
Ah! guard, ye Lovers, guard a Mistress more.
Thus from the Fern, whose high-projecting Arms,
The fleeting Nation bent with dusky Swarms,
The Swains their Love in easy Musick breathe,
When Tongues and Tumult stun the Field beneath.
Black Ants in Teams come darkning all the Road,
Some call to march, and some to lift the Load;
They strain, they labour with incessant Pains
Press'd by the cumbrous weight of single Grains.
The Flies struck silent gaze with Wonder down:
The busy Burghers reach their earthy Town;
Where lay the Burthens of a wint'ry Store,
And thence unwearied part in search of more.
Yet one grave Sage a Moment's space attends,
And the small City's loftiest Point ascends,
Wipes the salt Dew that trickles down his Face,
And thus harangues them with the gravest Grace.
The fleeting Nation bent with dusky Swarms,
The Swains their Love in easy Musick breathe,
When Tongues and Tumult stun the Field beneath.
Black Ants in Teams come darkning all the Road,
Some call to march, and some to lift the Load;
They strain, they labour with incessant Pains
Press'd by the cumbrous weight of single Grains.
The Flies struck silent gaze with Wonder down:
The busy Burghers reach their earthy Town;
Where lay the Burthens of a wint'ry Store,
And thence unwearied part in search of more.
Yet one grave Sage a Moment's space attends,
And the small City's loftiest Point ascends,
Wipes the salt Dew that trickles down his Face,
And thus harangues them with the gravest Grace.
Ye foolish Nurslings of the Summer Air,
These gentle Tunes and whining Songs forbear;
Your Trees and whisp'ring Breeze, your Grove and Love,
Your Cupids Quiver, and his Mother's Dove:
Let Bards to Business bend their vig'rous Wing,
And sing but seldom, if they love to sing:
Else, when the Flourets of the Season fail,
And this your Ferny Shade forsakes the Vale,
Tho' one would save ye, not one Grain of Wheat
Shou'd pay such Songsters idling at my Gate.
These gentle Tunes and whining Songs forbear;
Your Trees and whisp'ring Breeze, your Grove and Love,
Your Cupids Quiver, and his Mother's Dove:
Let Bards to Business bend their vig'rous Wing,
And sing but seldom, if they love to sing:
Else, when the Flourets of the Season fail,
160
Tho' one would save ye, not one Grain of Wheat
Shou'd pay such Songsters idling at my Gate.
He ceas'd: The Flies, incorrigibly vain,
Heard the May'r's Speech, and fell to sing again.
Heard the May'r's Speech, and fell to sing again.
An Elegy, To an Old Beauty.
In vain, poor Nymph, to please our youthful sight
You sleep in Cream and Frontlets all the Night,
Your Face with Patches soil, with Paint repair,
Dress with gay Gowns, and shade with foreign Hair.
If Truth in spight of Manners must be told,
Why really Fifty Five is something old.
You sleep in Cream and Frontlets all the Night,
Your Face with Patches soil, with Paint repair,
Dress with gay Gowns, and shade with foreign Hair.
If Truth in spight of Manners must be told,
Why really Fifty Five is something old.
Once you were young; or one, whose Life's so long
She might have born my Mother, tells me wrong.
And once (since Envy's dead before you dye,)
The Women own, you play'd a sparkling Eye,
Taught the light Foot a modish little Trip,
And pouted with the prettiest purple Lip—
She might have born my Mother, tells me wrong.
And once (since Envy's dead before you dye,)
The Women own, you play'd a sparkling Eye,
Taught the light Foot a modish little Trip,
And pouted with the prettiest purple Lip—
To some new Charmer are the Roses fled,
Which blew, to damask all thy Cheek with red;
Youth calls the Graces there to fix their Reign,
And Airs by thousands fill their easy Train.
So parting Summer bids her flow'ry Prime
Attend the Sun to dress some foreign Clime,
While with'ring Seasons in Succession, here,
Strip the gay Gardens, and deform the Year.
Which blew, to damask all thy Cheek with red;
Youth calls the Graces there to fix their Reign,
And Airs by thousands fill their easy Train.
So parting Summer bids her flow'ry Prime
Attend the Sun to dress some foreign Clime,
While with'ring Seasons in Succession, here,
Strip the gay Gardens, and deform the Year.
But thou (since Nature bids) the World resign,
'Tis now thy Daughter's Daughter's time to shine.
With more Address, (or such as pleases more)
She runs her Female Exercises o'er,
Unfurls or closes, raps or turns the Fan,
And smiles, or blushes at the Creature Man.
With quicker Life, as guilded Coaches pass,
In sideling Courtesy she drops the Glass.
With better Strength, on Visit-days she bears
To mount her fifty Flights of ample Stairs.
Her Mein, her Shape, her Temper, Eyes and Tongue
Are sure to conquer.—for the Rogue is young;
And all that's madly wild, or oddly gay,
We call it only pretty Fanny's way.
'Tis now thy Daughter's Daughter's time to shine.
With more Address, (or such as pleases more)
She runs her Female Exercises o'er,
Unfurls or closes, raps or turns the Fan,
And smiles, or blushes at the Creature Man.
With quicker Life, as guilded Coaches pass,
In sideling Courtesy she drops the Glass.
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To mount her fifty Flights of ample Stairs.
Her Mein, her Shape, her Temper, Eyes and Tongue
Are sure to conquer.—for the Rogue is young;
And all that's madly wild, or oddly gay,
We call it only pretty Fanny's way.
Let Time that makes you homely, make you sage,
The Sphere of Wisdom is the Sphere of Age.
'Tis true, when Beauty dawns with early Fire,
And hears the flatt'ring Tongues of soft Desire,
If not from Virtue, from its gravest Ways
The Soul with pleasing Avocation strays.
But Beauty gone, 'tis easier to be wise;
As Harpers better, by the loss of Eyes.
The Sphere of Wisdom is the Sphere of Age.
'Tis true, when Beauty dawns with early Fire,
And hears the flatt'ring Tongues of soft Desire,
If not from Virtue, from its gravest Ways
The Soul with pleasing Avocation strays.
But Beauty gone, 'tis easier to be wise;
As Harpers better, by the loss of Eyes.
Henceforth retire, reduce your roving Airs,
Haunt less the Plays, and more the publick Pray'rs,
Reject the Mechlin Head, and gold Brocade,
Go pray, in sober Norwich Crape array'd.
Thy pendent Diamonds let thy Fanny take,
(Their trembling Lustre shows how much you shake;)
Or bid her wear thy Necklace row'd with Pearl,
You'll find your Fanny an obedient Girl.
So for the rest, with less Incumbrance hung,
You walk thro' Life, unmingled with the young;
And view the Shade and Substance as you pass
With joint Endeavour trifling at the Glass,
Or Folly drest, and rambling all her Days,
To meet her Counterpart, and grow by Praise:
Yet still sedate your self, and gravely plain,
You neither fret, nor envy at the Vain.
Haunt less the Plays, and more the publick Pray'rs,
Reject the Mechlin Head, and gold Brocade,
Go pray, in sober Norwich Crape array'd.
Thy pendent Diamonds let thy Fanny take,
(Their trembling Lustre shows how much you shake;)
Or bid her wear thy Necklace row'd with Pearl,
You'll find your Fanny an obedient Girl.
So for the rest, with less Incumbrance hung,
You walk thro' Life, unmingled with the young;
And view the Shade and Substance as you pass
With joint Endeavour trifling at the Glass,
Or Folly drest, and rambling all her Days,
To meet her Counterpart, and grow by Praise:
Yet still sedate your self, and gravely plain,
You neither fret, nor envy at the Vain.
'Twas thus (if Man with Woman we compare)
The wise Athenian crost a glittering Fair,
Unmov'd by Tongues and Sights, he walk'd the place,
Thro' Tape, Toys, Tinsel, Gimp, Perfume, and Lace;
Then bends from Mars's Hill his awful Eyes,
And What a World I never want? he cries;
But cries unheard: For Folly will be free.
So parts the buzzing gaudy Crowd, and He:
As careless he for them, as they for him;
He wrapt in Wisdom, and they whirl'd by Whim.
The wise Athenian crost a glittering Fair,
Unmov'd by Tongues and Sights, he walk'd the place,
Thro' Tape, Toys, Tinsel, Gimp, Perfume, and Lace;
Then bends from Mars's Hill his awful Eyes,
And What a World I never want? he cries;
But cries unheard: For Folly will be free.
So parts the buzzing gaudy Crowd, and He:
As careless he for them, as they for him;
He wrapt in Wisdom, and they whirl'd by Whim.
162
The Book-Worm.
Come hither, Boy, we'll hunt to Day
The Book-Worm, ravening Beast of Prey,
Produc'd by Parent Earth, at odds
(As Fame reports it) with the Gods.
Him frantick Hunger wildly drives
Against a thousand Authors Lives:
Thro' all the Fields of Wit he flies;
Dreadful his Head with clust'ring Eyes,
With Horns without, and Tusks within,
And Scales to serve him for a Skin.
Observe him nearly, lest he climb
To wound the Bards of antient Time,
Or down the Vale of Fancy go
To tear some modern Wretch below:
On ev'ry Corner fix thine Eye,
Or ten to one he slips thee by.
The Book-Worm, ravening Beast of Prey,
Produc'd by Parent Earth, at odds
(As Fame reports it) with the Gods.
Him frantick Hunger wildly drives
Against a thousand Authors Lives:
Thro' all the Fields of Wit he flies;
Dreadful his Head with clust'ring Eyes,
With Horns without, and Tusks within,
And Scales to serve him for a Skin.
Observe him nearly, lest he climb
To wound the Bards of antient Time,
Or down the Vale of Fancy go
To tear some modern Wretch below:
On ev'ry Corner fix thine Eye,
Or ten to one he slips thee by.
See where his Teeth a Passage eat:
We'll rouse him from the deep Retreat.
But who the Shelter's forc'd to give?
'Tis Sacred Virgil as I live!
From Leaf to Leaf, from Song to Song,
He draws the tadpole Form along,
He mounts the gilded Edge before,
He's up, he scuds the Cover o'er,
He turns, he doubles, there he past,
And here we have him, caught at last.
We'll rouse him from the deep Retreat.
But who the Shelter's forc'd to give?
'Tis Sacred Virgil as I live!
From Leaf to Leaf, from Song to Song,
He draws the tadpole Form along,
He mounts the gilded Edge before,
He's up, he scuds the Cover o'er,
He turns, he doubles, there he past,
And here we have him, caught at last.
Insatiate Brute, whose Teeth abuse
The sweetest Servants of the Muse.
(Nay never offer to deny,
I took thee in the Fact to fly.)
His Roses nipt in ev'ry Page,
My poor Anacreon mourns thy Rage.
By thee my Ovid wounded lies;
By thee my Lesbia's Sparrow dies:
Thy rabid Teeth have half destroy'd
The Work of Love in Biddy Floyd,
They rent Belinda's Locks away,
And spoil'd the Blouzelind of Gay.
For all, for ev'ry single Deed,
Relentless Justice bids thee bleed.
Then fall a Victim to the Nine,
My self the Priest, my Desk the Shrine.
The sweetest Servants of the Muse.
(Nay never offer to deny,
I took thee in the Fact to fly.)
His Roses nipt in ev'ry Page,
My poor Anacreon mourns thy Rage.
By thee my Ovid wounded lies;
By thee my Lesbia's Sparrow dies:
Thy rabid Teeth have half destroy'd
The Work of Love in Biddy Floyd,
They rent Belinda's Locks away,
And spoil'd the Blouzelind of Gay.
163
Relentless Justice bids thee bleed.
Then fall a Victim to the Nine,
My self the Priest, my Desk the Shrine.
Bring Homer, Virgil, Tasso near,
To pile a sacred Altar here;
Hold, Boy, thy Hand out-run thy Wit,
You reach'd the Plays that D---s writ;
You reach'd me Ph---s rustick Strain;
Pray take your mortal Bards again.
To pile a sacred Altar here;
Hold, Boy, thy Hand out-run thy Wit,
You reach'd the Plays that D---s writ;
You reach'd me Ph---s rustick Strain;
Pray take your mortal Bards again.
Come bind the Victim,—there he lies,
And here between his num'rous Eyes
This venerable Dust I lay,
From Manuscripts just swept away.
And here between his num'rous Eyes
This venerable Dust I lay,
From Manuscripts just swept away.
The Goblet in my Hand I take,
(For the Libation's yet to make)
A Health to Poets! all their Days
May they have Bread, as well as Praise;
Sense may they seek, and less engage
In Papers fill'd with Party-Rage.
But if their Riches spoil their Vein
Ye Muses, make them poor again.
(For the Libation's yet to make)
A Health to Poets! all their Days
May they have Bread, as well as Praise;
Sense may they seek, and less engage
In Papers fill'd with Party-Rage.
But if their Riches spoil their Vein
Ye Muses, make them poor again.
Now bring the Weapon, yonder Blade,
With which my tuneful Pens are made.
I strike the Scales that arm thee round,
And twice and thrice I print the Wound;
The sacred Altar floats with red,
And now he dies, and now he's dead.
With which my tuneful Pens are made.
I strike the Scales that arm thee round,
And twice and thrice I print the Wound;
The sacred Altar floats with red,
And now he dies, and now he's dead.
How like the Son of Jove I stand,
This Hydra stretch'd beneath my Hand!
Lay bare the Monster's Entrails here,
To see what Dangers threat the Year:
Ye Gods! what Sonnets on a Wench?
What lean Translations out of French?
'Tis plain, this Lobe is so unsound,
S--- prints, before the Months go round.
This Hydra stretch'd beneath my Hand!
Lay bare the Monster's Entrails here,
To see what Dangers threat the Year:
Ye Gods! what Sonnets on a Wench?
What lean Translations out of French?
'Tis plain, this Lobe is so unsound,
S--- prints, before the Months go round.
But hold, before I close the Scene,
The sacred Altar shou'd be clean.
Oh had I Sh---ll's Second Bays,
Or T---! thy pert and humble Lays!
(Ye Pair, forgive me, when I vow
I never miss'd your Works till now)
I'd tear the Leaves to wipe the Shrine,
(That only way you please the Nine)
But since I chance to want these two,
I'll make the Songs of D---y do.
164
Oh had I Sh---ll's Second Bays,
Or T---! thy pert and humble Lays!
(Ye Pair, forgive me, when I vow
I never miss'd your Works till now)
I'd tear the Leaves to wipe the Shrine,
(That only way you please the Nine)
But since I chance to want these two,
I'll make the Songs of D---y do.
Rent from the Corps, on yonder Pin,
I hang the Scales that brac't it in;
I hang my studious Morning Gown,
And write my own Inscription down.
I hang the Scales that brac't it in;
I hang my studious Morning Gown,
And write my own Inscription down.
‘This Trophy from the Python won,
‘This Robe, in which the Deed was done,
‘These, Parnell glorying in the Feat,
‘Hung on these Shelves, the Muses Seat.
‘Here Ignorance and Hunger found
‘Large Realms of Wit to ravage round;
‘Here Ignorance and Hunger fell;
‘Two Foes in one I sent to Hell.
‘Ye Poets, who my Labours see,
‘Come share the Triumph all with me!
‘Ye Criticks! born to vex the Muse,
‘Go mourn the grand Ally you lose.
‘This Robe, in which the Deed was done,
‘These, Parnell glorying in the Feat,
‘Hung on these Shelves, the Muses Seat.
‘Here Ignorance and Hunger found
‘Large Realms of Wit to ravage round;
‘Here Ignorance and Hunger fell;
‘Two Foes in one I sent to Hell.
‘Ye Poets, who my Labours see,
‘Come share the Triumph all with me!
‘Ye Criticks! born to vex the Muse,
‘Go mourn the grand Ally you lose.
An Allegory on Man.
A thoughtful Being, long and spare,
Our Race of Mortals call him Care:
(Were Homer living, well he knew
What Name the Gods have call'd him too)
With fine Mechanick Genius wrought,
And lov'd to work, tho' no one bought.
Our Race of Mortals call him Care:
(Were Homer living, well he knew
What Name the Gods have call'd him too)
With fine Mechanick Genius wrought,
And lov'd to work, tho' no one bought.
This Being, by a Model bred
In Jove's eternal sable Head,
Contriv'd a Shape impow'rd to breathe,
And be the Worldling here beneath.
In Jove's eternal sable Head,
Contriv'd a Shape impow'rd to breathe,
And be the Worldling here beneath.
165
The Man rose staring, like a Stake;
Wond'ring to see himself awake!
Then look'd so wise, before he knew
The Bus'ness he was made to do;
That pleas'd to see with what a Grace
He gravely shew'd his forward Face,
Jove talk'd of breeding him on high,
An Under-something of the Sky.
Wond'ring to see himself awake!
Then look'd so wise, before he knew
The Bus'ness he was made to do;
That pleas'd to see with what a Grace
He gravely shew'd his forward Face,
Jove talk'd of breeding him on high,
An Under-something of the Sky.
But e'er he gave the mighty Nod,
Which ever binds a Poet's God:
(For which his Curls Ambrosial shake,
And Mother Earth's oblig'd to quake:)
He saw old Mother Earth arise,
She stood confess'd before his Eyes;
But not with what we read she wore,
A Castle for a Crown before,
Nor with long Streets and longer Roads
Dangling behind her, like Commodes:
As yet with Wreaths alone she drest,
And trail'd a Landskip-painted Vest.
Then thrice she rais'd, (as Ovid said)
And thrice she bow'd, her weighty Head.
Which ever binds a Poet's God:
(For which his Curls Ambrosial shake,
And Mother Earth's oblig'd to quake:)
He saw old Mother Earth arise,
She stood confess'd before his Eyes;
But not with what we read she wore,
A Castle for a Crown before,
Nor with long Streets and longer Roads
Dangling behind her, like Commodes:
As yet with Wreaths alone she drest,
And trail'd a Landskip-painted Vest.
Then thrice she rais'd, (as Ovid said)
And thrice she bow'd, her weighty Head.
Her Honours made, Great Jove, she cry'd,
This Thing was fashion'd from my Side;
His Hands, his Heart, his Head are mine;
Then what hast thou to call him thine?
This Thing was fashion'd from my Side;
His Hands, his Heart, his Head are mine;
Then what hast thou to call him thine?
Nay rather ask, the Monarch said,
What boots his Hand, his Heart, his Head,
Were what I gave remov'd away?
Thy Part's an idle Shape of Clay.
What boots his Hand, his Heart, his Head,
Were what I gave remov'd away?
Thy Part's an idle Shape of Clay.
Halves, more than Halves! cry'd honest Care,
Your Pleas wou'd make your Titles fair,
You claim the Body, you the Soul,
But I who join'd them, claim the whole.
Your Pleas wou'd make your Titles fair,
You claim the Body, you the Soul,
But I who join'd them, claim the whole.
Thus with the Gods Debate began,
On such a trivial Cause, as Man.
And can Celestial Tempers rage?
(Quoth Virgil in a later Age.)
On such a trivial Cause, as Man.
And can Celestial Tempers rage?
(Quoth Virgil in a later Age.)
166
As thus they wrangled, Time came by;
(There's none that paint him such as I,
For what the Fabling Antients sung
Makes Saturn old, when Time was young.)
As yet his Winters had not shed
Their silver Honours on his Head;
He just had got his Pinions free
From his old Sire Eternity.
A Serpent girdled round he wore,
The Tail within the Mouth before;
By which our Almanacks are clear
That learned Ægypt meant the Year.
A Staff he carry'd, where on high
A Glass was fix'd to measure by,
As Amber Boxes made a Show
For Heads of Canes an Age ago.
His Vest, for Day, and Night, was py'd;
A bending Sickle arm'd his Side;
And Spring's new Months his Train adorn;
The other Seasons were unborn.
(There's none that paint him such as I,
For what the Fabling Antients sung
Makes Saturn old, when Time was young.)
As yet his Winters had not shed
Their silver Honours on his Head;
He just had got his Pinions free
From his old Sire Eternity.
A Serpent girdled round he wore,
The Tail within the Mouth before;
By which our Almanacks are clear
That learned Ægypt meant the Year.
A Staff he carry'd, where on high
A Glass was fix'd to measure by,
As Amber Boxes made a Show
For Heads of Canes an Age ago.
His Vest, for Day, and Night, was py'd;
A bending Sickle arm'd his Side;
And Spring's new Months his Train adorn;
The other Seasons were unborn.
Known by the Gods, as near he draws,
They make him Umpire of the Cause.
O'er a low Trunk his Arm he laid,
(Where since his Hours a Dial made;)
Then leaning heard the nice Debate,
And thus pronounc'd the Words of Fate.
They make him Umpire of the Cause.
O'er a low Trunk his Arm he laid,
(Where since his Hours a Dial made;)
Then leaning heard the nice Debate,
And thus pronounc'd the Words of Fate.
Since Body from the Parent Earth,
And Soul from Jove receiv'd a Birth,
Return they where they first began;
But since their Union makes the Man,
'Till Jove and Earth shall part these two,
To Care who join'd them, Man is due.
And Soul from Jove receiv'd a Birth,
Return they where they first began;
But since their Union makes the Man,
'Till Jove and Earth shall part these two,
To Care who join'd them, Man is due.
He said, and sprung with swift Career
To trace a Circle for the Year;
Where ever since the Seasons wheel,
And tread on one another's Heel.
To trace a Circle for the Year;
Where ever since the Seasons wheel,
And tread on one another's Heel.
'Tis well, said Jove, and for consent
Thund'ring he shook the Firmament.
Our Umpire Time shall have his Way,
With Care I let the Creature stay:
Let Bus'ness vex him, Av'rice blind,
Let Doubt and Knowledge rack his Mind,
Let Error act, Opinion speak,
And Want afflict, and Sickness break,
And Anger burn, Dejection chill,
And Joy distract, and Sorrow kill.
'Till arm'd by Care and taught to Mow,
Time draws the long destructive Blow;
And wasted Man, whose quick decay
Comes hurrying on before his Day,
Shall only find, by this Decree,
The Soul flies sooner back to Me.
Thund'ring he shook the Firmament.
Our Umpire Time shall have his Way,
167
Let Bus'ness vex him, Av'rice blind,
Let Doubt and Knowledge rack his Mind,
Let Error act, Opinion speak,
And Want afflict, and Sickness break,
And Anger burn, Dejection chill,
And Joy distract, and Sorrow kill.
'Till arm'd by Care and taught to Mow,
Time draws the long destructive Blow;
And wasted Man, whose quick decay
Comes hurrying on before his Day,
Shall only find, by this Decree,
The Soul flies sooner back to Me.
An Imitation of some French Verses.
Relentless Time! destroying Pow'rWhom Stone and Brass obey,
Who giv'st to ev'ry flying Hour
To work some new Decay;
Unheard, unheeded, and unseen,
Thy secret Saps prevail,
And ruin Man, a nice Machine
By Nature form'd to fail.
My Change arrives; the Change I meet,
Before I thought it nigh.
My Spring, my Years of Pleasure fleet,
And all their Beauties dye.
In Age I search, and only find
A poor unfruitful Gain,
Grave Wisdom stalking slow behind,
Oppress'd with loads of Pain.
My Ignorance cou'd once beguile,
And fancy'd Joys inspire;
My Errors cherish'd Hope to smile
On newly-born Desire.
But now Experience shews, the Bliss
For which I fondly sought,
Not worth the long impatient Wish,
And Ardour of the Thought.
My Youth met Fortune fair array'd,
(In all her Pomp she shone)
168
To make her Gifts my own:
But when I saw the Blessings show'r
On some unworthy Mind,
I left the Chace, and own'd the Pow'r
Was justly painted blind.
I pass'd the Glories which adorn
The splendid Courts of Kings,
And while the Persons mov'd my Scorn,
I rose to scorn the Things.
My Manhood felt a vig'rous Fire
By Love encreas'd the more;
But Years with coming Years conspire
To break the Chains I wore.
In Weakness safe, the Sex I see
With idle Lustre shine;
For what are all their Joys to me,
Which cannot now be mine?
But hold—I feel my Gout decrease,
My Troubles laid to rest,
And Truths which wou'd disturb my Peace
Are painful Truths at best.
Vainly the Time I have to roll
In sad Reflection flies;
Ye fondling Passions of my Soul!
Ye sweet Deceits! arise.
I wisely change the Scene within,
To Things that us'd to please;
In Pain, Philosophy is Spleen,
In Health, 'tis only Ease.
A Night-Piece on Death.
By the blue Tapers trembling Light,
No more I waste the wakeful Night,
Intent with endless view to pore
The Schoolmen and the Sages o'er:
Their Books from Wisdom widely stray,
Or point at best the longest Way.
I'll seek a readier Path, and go
Where Wisdom's surely taught below.
No more I waste the wakeful Night,
Intent with endless view to pore
The Schoolmen and the Sages o'er:
Their Books from Wisdom widely stray,
Or point at best the longest Way.
I'll seek a readier Path, and go
Where Wisdom's surely taught below.
169
How deep yon Azure dies the Sky!
Where Orbs of Gold unnumber'd lye,
While thro' their Ranks in silver pride
The nether Crescent seems to glide.
The slumb'ring Breeze forgets to breathe,
The Lake is smooth and clear beneath,
Where once again the spangled Show
Descends to meet our Eyes below.
The Grounds which on the right aspire,
In dimness from the View retire:
The Left presents a Place of Graves,
Whose Wall the silent Water laves.
That Steeple guides thy doubtful sight
Among the livid gleams of Night.
There pass with melancholy State,
By all the solemn Heaps of Fate,
And think, as softly-sad you tread
Above the venerable Dead,
Time was, like thee they Life possest,
And Time shall be, that thou shalt Rest.
Where Orbs of Gold unnumber'd lye,
While thro' their Ranks in silver pride
The nether Crescent seems to glide.
The slumb'ring Breeze forgets to breathe,
The Lake is smooth and clear beneath,
Where once again the spangled Show
Descends to meet our Eyes below.
The Grounds which on the right aspire,
In dimness from the View retire:
The Left presents a Place of Graves,
Whose Wall the silent Water laves.
That Steeple guides thy doubtful sight
Among the livid gleams of Night.
There pass with melancholy State,
By all the solemn Heaps of Fate,
And think, as softly-sad you tread
Above the venerable Dead,
Time was, like thee they Life possest,
And Time shall be, that thou shalt Rest.
Those Graves, with bending Osier bound,
That nameless heave the crumbled Ground,
Quick to the glancing Thought disclose
Where Toil and Poverty repose.
That nameless heave the crumbled Ground,
Quick to the glancing Thought disclose
Where Toil and Poverty repose.
The flat smooth Stones that bear a Name,
The Chissels slender help to Fame,
(Which e'er our Sett of Friends decay
Their frequent Steps may wear away.)
A middle Race of Mortals own,
Men, half ambitious, all unknown.
The Chissels slender help to Fame,
(Which e'er our Sett of Friends decay
Their frequent Steps may wear away.)
A middle Race of Mortals own,
Men, half ambitious, all unknown.
The Marble Tombs that rise on high,
Whose Dead in vaulted Arches lye,
Whose Pillars swell with sculptur'd Stones,
Arms, Angels, Epitaphs and Bones,
These (all the poor Remains of State)
Adorn the Rich, or praise the Great;
Who while on Earth in Fame they live,
Are sensless of the Fame they give.
Whose Dead in vaulted Arches lye,
Whose Pillars swell with sculptur'd Stones,
Arms, Angels, Epitaphs and Bones,
These (all the poor Remains of State)
Adorn the Rich, or praise the Great;
Who while on Earth in Fame they live,
Are sensless of the Fame they give.
Ha! while I gaze, pale Cynthia fades,
The bursting Earth unveils the Shades!
All slow, and wan, and wrap'd with Shrouds,
They rise in visionary Crouds,
And all with sober Accent cry,
Think, Mortal, what it is to dye.
170
All slow, and wan, and wrap'd with Shrouds,
They rise in visionary Crouds,
And all with sober Accent cry,
Think, Mortal, what it is to dye.
Now from yon black and fun'ral Yew,
That bathes the Charnel House with Dew,
Methinks I hear a Voice begin;
(Ye Ravens, cease your croaking Din,
Ye tolling Clocks, no Time resound
O'er the long Lake and midnight Ground)
It sends a Peal of hollow Groans,
Thus speaking from among the Bones.
That bathes the Charnel House with Dew,
Methinks I hear a Voice begin;
(Ye Ravens, cease your croaking Din,
Ye tolling Clocks, no Time resound
O'er the long Lake and midnight Ground)
It sends a Peal of hollow Groans,
Thus speaking from among the Bones.
When Men my Scythe and Darts supply,
How great a King of Fears am I!
They view me like the last of Things:
They make, and then they dread, my Stings.
Fools! if you less provok'd your Fears,
No more my Spectre-Form appears.
Death's but a Path that must be trod,
If Man wou'd ever pass to God:
A Port of Calms, a State of Ease
From the rough Rage of swelling Seas.
How great a King of Fears am I!
They view me like the last of Things:
They make, and then they dread, my Stings.
Fools! if you less provok'd your Fears,
No more my Spectre-Form appears.
Death's but a Path that must be trod,
If Man wou'd ever pass to God:
A Port of Calms, a State of Ease
From the rough Rage of swelling Seas.
Why then thy flowing sable Stoles,
Deep pendent Cypress, mourning Poles,
Loose Scarfs to fall athwart thy Weeds,
Long Palls, drawn Herses, cover'd Steeds,
And Plumes of black, that as they tread,
Nod o'er the 'Scutcheons of the Dead?
Deep pendent Cypress, mourning Poles,
Loose Scarfs to fall athwart thy Weeds,
Long Palls, drawn Herses, cover'd Steeds,
And Plumes of black, that as they tread,
Nod o'er the 'Scutcheons of the Dead?
Nor can the parted Body know,
Nor wants the Soul, these Forms of Woe:
As men who long in Prison dwell,
With Lamps that glimmer round the Cell,
When e'er their suffering Years are run,
Spring forth to greet the glitt'ring Sun:
Such Joy, tho' far transcending Sense,
Have pious Souls at parting hence.
On Earth, and in the Body plac't,
A few, and evil Years, they wast:
But when their Chains are cast aside,
See the glad Scene unfolding wide,
Clap the glad Wing and tow'r away,
And mingle with the Blaze of Day.
Nor wants the Soul, these Forms of Woe:
As men who long in Prison dwell,
With Lamps that glimmer round the Cell,
When e'er their suffering Years are run,
Spring forth to greet the glitt'ring Sun:
Such Joy, tho' far transcending Sense,
Have pious Souls at parting hence.
On Earth, and in the Body plac't,
A few, and evil Years, they wast:
171
See the glad Scene unfolding wide,
Clap the glad Wing and tow'r away,
And mingle with the Blaze of Day.
The Hermit.
Far in a Wild, unknown to publick View,
From Youth to Age a rev'rend Hermit grew;
The Moss his Bed, the Cave his humble Cell,
His Food the Fruits, his Drink the chrystal Well:
Remote from Man, with God he pass'd the Days,
Pray'r all his Bus'ness, all his Pleasure Praise.
From Youth to Age a rev'rend Hermit grew;
The Moss his Bed, the Cave his humble Cell,
His Food the Fruits, his Drink the chrystal Well:
Remote from Man, with God he pass'd the Days,
Pray'r all his Bus'ness, all his Pleasure Praise.
A Life so sacred, such serene Repose,
Seem'd Heav'n it self, 'till one Suggestion rose;
That Vice shou'd triumph, Virtue Vice obey,
This sprung some Doubt of Providence's Sway:
His Hopes no more a certain Prospect boast,
And all the Tenour of his Soul is lost:
So when a smooth Expanse receives imprest
Calm Nature's Image on its wat'ry Breast,
Down bend the Banks, the Trees depending grow,
And Skies beneath with answ'ring Colours glow:
But if a Stone the gentle Scene divide,
Swift ruffling Circles curl on ev'ry side,
And glimmering Fragments of a broken Sun,
Banks, Trees, and Skies, in thick Disorder run.
Seem'd Heav'n it self, 'till one Suggestion rose;
That Vice shou'd triumph, Virtue Vice obey,
This sprung some Doubt of Providence's Sway:
His Hopes no more a certain Prospect boast,
And all the Tenour of his Soul is lost:
So when a smooth Expanse receives imprest
Calm Nature's Image on its wat'ry Breast,
Down bend the Banks, the Trees depending grow,
And Skies beneath with answ'ring Colours glow:
But if a Stone the gentle Scene divide,
Swift ruffling Circles curl on ev'ry side,
And glimmering Fragments of a broken Sun,
Banks, Trees, and Skies, in thick Disorder run.
To clear this Doubt, to know the World by Sight,
To find if Books, or Swains, report it right;
(For yet by Swains alone the World he knew,
Whose Feet came wand'ring o'er the nightly Dew)
He quits his Cell; the Pilgrim-Staff he bore,
And fix'd the Scallop in his Hat before;
Then with the Sun a rising Journey went,
Sedate to think, and watching each Event.
To find if Books, or Swains, report it right;
(For yet by Swains alone the World he knew,
Whose Feet came wand'ring o'er the nightly Dew)
He quits his Cell; the Pilgrim-Staff he bore,
And fix'd the Scallop in his Hat before;
Then with the Sun a rising Journey went,
Sedate to think, and watching each Event.
The Morn was wasted in the pathless Grass,
And long and lonesome was the Wild to pass;
But when the Southern Sun had warm'd the Day,
A Youth came posting o'er a crossing Way;
His Rayment decent, his Complexion fair,
And soft in graceful Ringlets wav'd his Hair.
Then near approaching, Father Hail! he cry'd,
And Hail, my Son, the rev'rend Sire reply'd;
Words followed Words, from Question Answer flow'd,
And Talk of various kind deceiv'd the Road;
'Till each with other pleas'd, and loth to part,
While in their Age they differ, joyn in Heart:
Thus stands an aged Elm in Ivy bound,
Thus youthful Ivy clasps an Elm around.
And long and lonesome was the Wild to pass;
But when the Southern Sun had warm'd the Day,
172
His Rayment decent, his Complexion fair,
And soft in graceful Ringlets wav'd his Hair.
Then near approaching, Father Hail! he cry'd,
And Hail, my Son, the rev'rend Sire reply'd;
Words followed Words, from Question Answer flow'd,
And Talk of various kind deceiv'd the Road;
'Till each with other pleas'd, and loth to part,
While in their Age they differ, joyn in Heart:
Thus stands an aged Elm in Ivy bound,
Thus youthful Ivy clasps an Elm around.
Now sunk the Sun; the closing Hour of Day
Came onward, mantled o'er with sober gray;
Nature in silence bid the World repose:
When near the Road a stately Palace rose:
There by the Moon thro' Ranks of Trees they pass,
Whose Verdure crown'd their sloping sides of Grass.
It chanc't the noble Master of the Dome,
Still made his House the wand'ring Stranger's home:
Yet still the Kindness, from a Thirst of Praise,
Prov'd the vain Flourish of expensive Ease.
The Pair arrive: the Liv'ry'd Servants wait;
Their Lord receives them at the pompous Gate.
The Table groans with costly Piles of Food,
And all is more than Hospitably good.
Then led to rest, the Day's long Toil they drown,
Deep sunk in Sleep, and Silk, and Heaps of Down.
Came onward, mantled o'er with sober gray;
Nature in silence bid the World repose:
When near the Road a stately Palace rose:
There by the Moon thro' Ranks of Trees they pass,
Whose Verdure crown'd their sloping sides of Grass.
It chanc't the noble Master of the Dome,
Still made his House the wand'ring Stranger's home:
Yet still the Kindness, from a Thirst of Praise,
Prov'd the vain Flourish of expensive Ease.
The Pair arrive: the Liv'ry'd Servants wait;
Their Lord receives them at the pompous Gate.
The Table groans with costly Piles of Food,
And all is more than Hospitably good.
Then led to rest, the Day's long Toil they drown,
Deep sunk in Sleep, and Silk, and Heaps of Down.
At length 'tis Morn, and at the Dawn of Day,
Along the wide Canals the Zephyrs play;
Fresh o'er the gay Parterres the Breezes creep,
And shake the neighb'ring Wood to banish Sleep.
Up rise the Guests, obedient to the Call,
An early Banquet deck'd the splendid Hall;
Rich luscious Wine a golden Goblet grac't,
Which the kind Master forc'd the Guests to taste.
Then pleas'd and thankful, from the Porch they go,
And, but the Landlord, none had cause of Woe;
His Cup was vanish'd; for in secret Guise
The younger Guest purloin'd the glittering Prize.
Along the wide Canals the Zephyrs play;
Fresh o'er the gay Parterres the Breezes creep,
And shake the neighb'ring Wood to banish Sleep.
Up rise the Guests, obedient to the Call,
An early Banquet deck'd the splendid Hall;
Rich luscious Wine a golden Goblet grac't,
Which the kind Master forc'd the Guests to taste.
Then pleas'd and thankful, from the Porch they go,
And, but the Landlord, none had cause of Woe;
His Cup was vanish'd; for in secret Guise
The younger Guest purloin'd the glittering Prize.
As one who 'spys a Serpent in his Way,
Glistning and basking in the Summer Ray,
Disorder'd stops to shun the Danger near,
Then walks with Faintness on, and looks with Fear:
So seem'd the Sire; when far upon the Road,
The shining Spoil his wiley Partner show'd.
He stopp'd with Silence, walk'd with trembling Heart,
And much he wish'd, but durst not ask to part:
Murm'ring he lifts his Eyes, and thinks it hard,
That generous Actions meet a base Reward.
173
Disorder'd stops to shun the Danger near,
Then walks with Faintness on, and looks with Fear:
So seem'd the Sire; when far upon the Road,
The shining Spoil his wiley Partner show'd.
He stopp'd with Silence, walk'd with trembling Heart,
And much he wish'd, but durst not ask to part:
Murm'ring he lifts his Eyes, and thinks it hard,
That generous Actions meet a base Reward.
While thus they pass, the Sun his Glory shrouds,
The changing Skies hang out their sable Clouds;
A Sound in Air presag'd approaching Rain,
And Beasts to covert scud a cross the Plain.
Warn'd by the Signs, the wand'ring Pair retreat,
To seek for Shelter at a neighb'ring Seat.
'Twas built with Turrets, on a rising Ground,
And strong, and large, and unimprov'd around;
Its Owner's Temper, tim'rous and severe,
Unkind and griping, caus'd a Desert there.
The changing Skies hang out their sable Clouds;
A Sound in Air presag'd approaching Rain,
And Beasts to covert scud a cross the Plain.
Warn'd by the Signs, the wand'ring Pair retreat,
To seek for Shelter at a neighb'ring Seat.
'Twas built with Turrets, on a rising Ground,
And strong, and large, and unimprov'd around;
Its Owner's Temper, tim'rous and severe,
Unkind and griping, caus'd a Desert there.
As near the Miser's heavy Doors they drew,
Fierce rising Gusts with sudden Fury blew;
The nimble Light'ning mix'd with Show'rs began,
And o'er their Heads loud-rolling Thunder ran.
Here long they knock, but knock or call in vain,
Driv'n by the Wind, and battered by the Rain.
At length some Pity warm'd the Master's Breast,
('Twas then, his Threshold first receiv'd a Guest)
Slow creaking turns the Door with jealous Care,
And half he welcomes in the shivering Pair;
One frugal Faggot lights the naked Walls,
And Nature's Fervor thro' their Limbs recals:
Bread of the coursest sort, with eager Wine,
(Each hardly granted) serv'd them both to dine;
And when the Tempest first appear'd to cease,
A ready Warning bid them part in Peace.
Fierce rising Gusts with sudden Fury blew;
The nimble Light'ning mix'd with Show'rs began,
And o'er their Heads loud-rolling Thunder ran.
Here long they knock, but knock or call in vain,
Driv'n by the Wind, and battered by the Rain.
At length some Pity warm'd the Master's Breast,
('Twas then, his Threshold first receiv'd a Guest)
Slow creaking turns the Door with jealous Care,
And half he welcomes in the shivering Pair;
One frugal Faggot lights the naked Walls,
And Nature's Fervor thro' their Limbs recals:
Bread of the coursest sort, with eager Wine,
(Each hardly granted) serv'd them both to dine;
And when the Tempest first appear'd to cease,
A ready Warning bid them part in Peace.
With still Remark the pond'ring Hermit view'd
In one so rich, a Life so poor and rude;
And why shou'd such, (within himself he cry'd,)
Lock the lost Wealth a thousand want beside?
But what new Marks of Wonder soon took place,
In ev'ry settling Feature of his Face!
When from his Vest the young Companion bore
That Cup, the gen'rous Landlord own'd before,
And paid profusely with the precious Bowl
The stinted Kindness of this churlish Soul.
In one so rich, a Life so poor and rude;
And why shou'd such, (within himself he cry'd,)
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But what new Marks of Wonder soon took place,
In ev'ry settling Feature of his Face!
When from his Vest the young Companion bore
That Cup, the gen'rous Landlord own'd before,
And paid profusely with the precious Bowl
The stinted Kindness of this churlish Soul.
But now the Clouds in airy Tumult fly,
The Sun emerging opes an azure Sky;
A fresher green the smelling Leaves display,
And glitt'ring as they tremble, cheer the Day:
The Weather courts them from the poor Retreat,
And the glad Master bolts the wary Gate.
The Sun emerging opes an azure Sky;
A fresher green the smelling Leaves display,
And glitt'ring as they tremble, cheer the Day:
The Weather courts them from the poor Retreat,
And the glad Master bolts the wary Gate.
While hence they walk, the Pilgrim's Bosom wrought,
With all the Travel of uncertain Thought;
His Partner's Acts without their Cause appear,
'Twas there a Vice, and seem'd a Madness here:
Detesting that, and pitying this he goes,
Lost and confounded with the various Shows.
With all the Travel of uncertain Thought;
His Partner's Acts without their Cause appear,
'Twas there a Vice, and seem'd a Madness here:
Detesting that, and pitying this he goes,
Lost and confounded with the various Shows.
Now Night's dim Shades again involve the Sky;
Again the Wand'rers want a Place to lye,
Again they search, and find a Lodging nigh.
The Soil improv'd around, the Mansion neat,
And neither poorly low, nor idly great:
It seem'd to speak its Master's turn of Mind,
Content, and not for Praise, but Virtue kind.
Again the Wand'rers want a Place to lye,
Again they search, and find a Lodging nigh.
The Soil improv'd around, the Mansion neat,
And neither poorly low, nor idly great:
It seem'd to speak its Master's turn of Mind,
Content, and not for Praise, but Virtue kind.
Hither the Walkers turn with weary Feet
Then bless the Mansion, and the Master greet:
Their greeting fair bestow'd, with modest Guise,
The courteous Master hears, and thus replies:
Then bless the Mansion, and the Master greet:
Their greeting fair bestow'd, with modest Guise,
The courteous Master hears, and thus replies:
Without a vain, without a grudging Heart,
To Him who gives us all, I yield a part;
From Him you come, for Him accept it here,
A frank and sober, more than costly Cheer.
He spoke, and bid the welcome Table spread,
Then talk'd of Virtue till the time of Bed,
When the grave Houshold round his Hall repair,
Warn'd by a Bell, and close the Hours with Pray'r.
To Him who gives us all, I yield a part;
From Him you come, for Him accept it here,
A frank and sober, more than costly Cheer.
He spoke, and bid the welcome Table spread,
Then talk'd of Virtue till the time of Bed,
When the grave Houshold round his Hall repair,
Warn'd by a Bell, and close the Hours with Pray'r.
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At length the World renew'd by calm Repose
Was strong for Toil, the dappled Morn arose;
Before the Pilgrims part, the Younger crept,
Near the clos'd Cradle where an Infant slept,
And writh'd his Neck: the Landlord's little Pride,
O strange Return! grew black, and gasp'd, and dy'd.
Horrour of Horrours! what! his only Son!
How look'd our Hermit when the Fact was done?
Not Hell, tho' Hell's black Jaws in sunder part,
And breathe blue Fire, cou'd more assault his Heart.
Was strong for Toil, the dappled Morn arose;
Before the Pilgrims part, the Younger crept,
Near the clos'd Cradle where an Infant slept,
And writh'd his Neck: the Landlord's little Pride,
O strange Return! grew black, and gasp'd, and dy'd.
Horrour of Horrours! what! his only Son!
How look'd our Hermit when the Fact was done?
Not Hell, tho' Hell's black Jaws in sunder part,
And breathe blue Fire, cou'd more assault his Heart.
Confus'd, and struck with Silence at the Deed,
He flies, but trembling fails to fly with Speed.
His Steps the Youth pursues; the Country lay
Perplex'd with Roads, a Servant show'd the Way:
A River cross'd the Path; the Passage o'er
Was nice to find; the Servant trod before;
Long arms of Oaks an open Bridge supply'd,
And deep the Waves beneath the bending glide.
The Youth, who seem'd to watch a Time to sin,
Approach'd the careless Guide, and thrust him in;
Plunging he falls, and rising lifts his Head,
Then flashing turns, and sinks among the Dead.
He flies, but trembling fails to fly with Speed.
His Steps the Youth pursues; the Country lay
Perplex'd with Roads, a Servant show'd the Way:
A River cross'd the Path; the Passage o'er
Was nice to find; the Servant trod before;
Long arms of Oaks an open Bridge supply'd,
And deep the Waves beneath the bending glide.
The Youth, who seem'd to watch a Time to sin,
Approach'd the careless Guide, and thrust him in;
Plunging he falls, and rising lifts his Head,
Then flashing turns, and sinks among the Dead.
Wild, sparkling Rage inflames the Father's Eyes,
He bursts the Bands of Fear, and madly cries,
Detested Wretch—But scarce his Speech began,
When the strange Partner seem'd no longer Man:
His youthful Face grew more serenely sweet;
His Robe turn'd white, and flow'd upon his Feet;
Fair rounds of radiant Points invest his Hair;
Celestial Odours breathe thro' purpled Air;
And Wings, whose Colours glitter'd on the Day,
Wide at his Back their gradual Plumes display.
The form Etherial bursts upon his Sight,
And moves in all the Majesty of Light.
He bursts the Bands of Fear, and madly cries,
Detested Wretch—But scarce his Speech began,
When the strange Partner seem'd no longer Man:
His youthful Face grew more serenely sweet;
His Robe turn'd white, and flow'd upon his Feet;
Fair rounds of radiant Points invest his Hair;
Celestial Odours breathe thro' purpled Air;
And Wings, whose Colours glitter'd on the Day,
Wide at his Back their gradual Plumes display.
The form Etherial bursts upon his Sight,
And moves in all the Majesty of Light.
Tho' loud at first the Pilgrim's Passion grew,
Sudden he gaz'd, and wist not what to do;
Surprize in secret Chains his words suspends,
And in a Calm his settling Temper ends.
But Silence here the beauteous Angel broke,
(The Voice of Musick ravish'd as he spoke.)
Sudden he gaz'd, and wist not what to do;
Surprize in secret Chains his words suspends,
And in a Calm his settling Temper ends.
But Silence here the beauteous Angel broke,
(The Voice of Musick ravish'd as he spoke.)
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Thy Pray'r, thy Praise, thy Life to Vice unknown,
In sweet Memorial rise before the Throne:
These Charms, Success in our bright Region find,
And force an Angel down, to calm thy Mind;
For this commission'd, I forsook the Sky,
Nay, cease to kneel—Thy fellow Servant I.
In sweet Memorial rise before the Throne:
These Charms, Success in our bright Region find,
And force an Angel down, to calm thy Mind;
For this commission'd, I forsook the Sky,
Nay, cease to kneel—Thy fellow Servant I.
Then know the Truth of Government Divine,
And let these Scruples be no longer thine.
And let these Scruples be no longer thine.
The Maker justly claims that World he made,
In this the Right of Providence is laid;
Its sacred Majesty thro' all depends
On using second Means to work his Ends:
'Tis thus, withdrawn in State from human Eye,
The Pow'r exerts his Attributes on high,
Your Actions uses, not controuls your Will,
And bids the doubting Sons of Men be still.
In this the Right of Providence is laid;
Its sacred Majesty thro' all depends
On using second Means to work his Ends:
'Tis thus, withdrawn in State from human Eye,
The Pow'r exerts his Attributes on high,
Your Actions uses, not controuls your Will,
And bids the doubting Sons of Men be still.
What strange Events can strike with more Surprize,
Than those which lately strook thy wond'ring Eyes?
Yet taught by these, confess th' Almighty Just,
And where you can't unriddle, learn to trust!
Than those which lately strook thy wond'ring Eyes?
Yet taught by these, confess th' Almighty Just,
And where you can't unriddle, learn to trust!
The Great, Vain Man, who far'd on costly Food,
Whose Life was too luxurious to be good;
Who made his Iv'ry Stands with Goblets shine,
And forc'd his Guests to morning Draughts of Wine,
Has, with the Cup, the graceless Custom lost,
And still he welcomes, but with less of Cost.
Whose Life was too luxurious to be good;
Who made his Iv'ry Stands with Goblets shine,
And forc'd his Guests to morning Draughts of Wine,
Has, with the Cup, the graceless Custom lost,
And still he welcomes, but with less of Cost.
The mean, suspicious Wretch, whose bolted Door,
Ne'er mov'd in Duty to the wand'ring Poor;
With him I left the Cup, to teach his Mind
That Heav'n can bless, if Mortals will be kind.
Conscious of wanting Worth, he views the Bowl,
And feels Compassion touch his grateful Soul.
Thus Artists melt the sullen Oar of Lead,
With heaping Coals of Fire upon its Head;
In the kind Warmth the Metal learns to glow,
And loose from Dross, the Silver runs below.
Ne'er mov'd in Duty to the wand'ring Poor;
With him I left the Cup, to teach his Mind
That Heav'n can bless, if Mortals will be kind.
Conscious of wanting Worth, he views the Bowl,
And feels Compassion touch his grateful Soul.
Thus Artists melt the sullen Oar of Lead,
With heaping Coals of Fire upon its Head;
In the kind Warmth the Metal learns to glow,
And loose from Dross, the Silver runs below.
Long had our pious Friend in Virtue trod,
But now the Child half-wean'd his Heart from God;
(Child of his Age) for him he liv'd in Pain,
And measur'd back his Steps to Earth again.
To what Excesses had his Dotage run?
But God, to save the Father, took the Son.
To all but thee, in Fits he seem'd to go,
(And 'twas my Ministry to deal the Blow.)
The poor fond Parent humbled in the Dust,
Now owns in Tears the Punishment was just.
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(Child of his Age) for him he liv'd in Pain,
And measur'd back his Steps to Earth again.
To what Excesses had his Dotage run?
But God, to save the Father, took the Son.
To all but thee, in Fits he seem'd to go,
(And 'twas my Ministry to deal the Blow.)
The poor fond Parent humbled in the Dust,
Now owns in Tears the Punishment was just.
But how had all his Fortune felt a Wrack,
Had that false Servant sped in Safety back?
This Night his treasur'd Heaps he meant to steal,
And what a Fund of Charity wou'd fail!
Had that false Servant sped in Safety back?
This Night his treasur'd Heaps he meant to steal,
And what a Fund of Charity wou'd fail!
Thus Heav'n instructs thy Mind: This Tryal o'er,
Depart in Peace, resign, and sin no more.
Depart in Peace, resign, and sin no more.
On sounding Pinnions here the Youth withdrew,
The Sage stood wond'ring as the Seraph flew.
Thus look'd Elisha, when to mount on high,
His Master took the Chariot of the Sky;
The fiery Pomp ascending left the View;
The Prophet gaz'd, and wish'd to follow too.
The Sage stood wond'ring as the Seraph flew.
Thus look'd Elisha, when to mount on high,
His Master took the Chariot of the Sky;
The fiery Pomp ascending left the View;
The Prophet gaz'd, and wish'd to follow too.
The bending Hermit here a Pray'r begun,
Lord! as in Heaven, on Earth thy Will be done.
Then gladly turning, sought his antient place,
And pass'd a Life of Piety and Peace.
Lord! as in Heaven, on Earth thy Will be done.
Then gladly turning, sought his antient place,
And pass'd a Life of Piety and Peace.
| Collected Poems of Thomas Parnell | |