Poems upon several occasions

Paris having sail'd to Sparta for the obtaining of
Helen, whom Venus had promised him as the
Reward of his adjudging the Prize of Beauty to
her, was nobly there entertain'd by Menelaus,
Helen's Husband; but he being call'd away to
Crete, to take Possession of what was left him by
his Grand-father Atreus, commends his Guest
to the Care of his Wife. In his Absence Paris
Courts her, and writes to her the following Epistle.

[_]

Translated from Ovid's Epistles.

All Health, fair Nymph, thy Paris sends to thee,
Tho' You, and only You, can give it me.
Shall I then speak? or is it needless grown
To tell a Passion that it self has shown?
Does not my Love it self too open lay,
And all I think in all I do betray?

425

If not, oh! may it still in secret lie,
'Till Time with our kind Wishes shall comply,
'Till all our Joys may to us come sincere,
Nor lose their Price by the Allay of Fear.
In vain I strive; who can that Fire conceal,
Which does it self by its own Light reveal?
But if you needs would hear my trembling Tongue
Speak what my Actions have declar'd so long,
I Love; you've there the Word that does impart
The truest Message from my bleeding Heart.
Forgive me, Madam, that I thus confess
To you, my fair Physician, my Disease,
And with such Looks this suppliant Paper grace
As best become the Beauties of that Face
May that smooth Brow no angry Wrinkle wear,
But be your Looks as kind as they are fair.
Some Pleasure 'tis to think these Lines shall find
An Entertainment at your Hands so kind,

426

For this creates a Hope, that I too may,
Receiv'd by you, as happy be as they.
Ah! may that Hope be true! nor I complain
That Venus promis'd you to me in vain.
For know, least you through Ignorance offend
The Gods, 'tis Heav'n that me does hither send.
None of the meanest of the Powers Divine
That first inspir'd, still favours my Design.
Great is the Prize I seek, I must confess,
But neither is my Due or Merit less:
Venus has promis'd she would you assign,
Fair as her self, to be for ever mine.
Guided by her, my Troy I left for thee,
Nor fear'd the Dangers of the faithless Sea.
She with a kind and an auspicious Gale
Drove the good Ship, and stretch'd out ev'ry Sail.
For she who sprung out of the teeming Deep,
Still o'er the Main does her wide Empire keep.

427

Still may she keep it, and as she with Ease
Allays the Wrath of the most angry Seas,
So may she give my stormy Mind some Rest,
And calm the raging Tempest of my Breast,
And bring home all my Sighs, and all my Vows
To their wish'd Harbour, and desir'd Repose.

Hither my Flames I brought, not found 'em here;
I my whole Course by their kind Light did steer:
For I by no Mistake or Storm was tost
Against my Will upon this happy Coast.
Nor as a Merchant did I plow the Main
To venture Life, like sordid Fools, for Gain.
No; may the Gods preserve my present Store,
And only give me you to make it more.
Nor to admire the Place came I so far;
I have Towns richer than your Cities are.

428

'Tis you I seek, to me from Venus due,
You were my Wish, before your Charms I knew.
Bright Images of you my Mind did draw,
Long e'er my Eyes the lovely Object saw.
Nor wonder that with the swift-winged Dart,
At such a Distance, you could wound my Heart:
So Fate ordain'd, and least you fight with Fate,
Hear and believe the Truth I shall relate.

Now in my Mother's Womb shut up I lay,
Her fatal Burthen longing for the Day,
When she in a mysterious Dream was told,
Her teeming Womb a burning Torch did hold;
Frighted she rises, and her Vision she
To Priam tells, and to his Prophets he;
They sing that I all Troy should set on Fire:
But sure Fate meant the Flames of my Desire.

429

For fear of this among the Swains expos'd,
My native Greatness every thing disclos'd.
Beauty, and Strength, and Courage join'd in one,
Through all Disguise spoke me a Monarch's Son.
A Place there is in Ida's thickest Grove
With Oakes and Fir-trees shaded all above,
The Grass here grows untoucht by bleating Flocks,
Or Mountain Goat, or the laborious Ox.
From hence Troy's Tow'rs Magnificence and Pride,
Leaning against an aged Oak, I spy'd.
When straight methought I heard the trembling Ground
With the strange Noise of trampling Feet resound.
In the same Instant Jove's great Messenger,
On all his Wings born through the yielding Air,
Lighting before my wondring Eyes did stand,
His Golden Rod shone in his sacred Hand:
With him three charming Goddesses there came,
Juno, and Pallas, and the Cyprian Dame.

430

With an unusual Fear I stood amaz'd,
'Till thus the God my sinking Courage rais'd;
Fear not; Thou art Jove's Substitute below;
The Prize of heav'nly Beauty to bestow;
Contending Goddesses appeal to you,
Decide their Strife; He spake, and up he flew.
Then bolder grown, I throw my Fears away,
And every one with curious Eyes survey:
Each of 'em merited the Victory,
And I their doubtful Judge was griev'd to see,
That one must have it, when deserv'd by three.
But yet that one there was which most prevail'd,
And with more pow'rful Charms my Heart assail'd:
Ah! would you know who thus my Breast could move?
Who could it be but the fair Queen of Love?
With mighty Bribes they all for Conquest strive,
Juno will Empires, Pallas Valour give,

431

Whilst I stand doubting which I should prefer,
Empire's soft Ease, or glorious Toils of War;
But Venus gently smil'd, and thus she spake,
They're dangerous Gifts, O do not, do not take!
I'll make Thee Love's immortal Pleasures know,
And Joys that in full Tides for ever flow.
For, if you judge the Conquest to be mine,
Fair Leda's fairer Daughter shall be thine.
She spake; and I gave her the Conquest due,
Both to her Beauty, and her Gift of you.

Mean while (my angry Stars more gentle grown)
I am acknowledg'd Royal Priam's Son,
All the glad Court, all Troy does celebrate,
With a new Festival, my change of Fate.
And as I now languish and die for thee,
So did the Beauties of all Troy for me.

432

You in full Pow'r over a Heart do reign,
For which a thousand Virgins sigh'd in vain:
Nor did Queens only fly to my Imbrace,
But Nymphs of Form divine, and heav'nly Race.
I all their Loves with cold Disdain represt,
Since Hopes of you first fir'd my longing Breast.
Your charming Form all Day my Fancy drew,
And when Night came, my Dreams were all of you.
What Pleasures then must you your self impart,
Whose Shadows only so surpriz'd my Heart?
And oh! how did I burn approaching nigher,
That was so scorch'd by so remote a Fire!

For now no longer could my Hopes refrain
From seeking their wish'd Object through the Main.
I fell the stately Pine, and every Tree
That best was fit to cut the yielding Sea,

433

Fetch'd from Gargarian Hills, tall Firs I cleave,
And Ida naked to the Winds I leave,
Stiff Oaks I bend, and solid Planks I form,
And every Ship with well-knit Ribs I arm.
To the tall Mast I Sails and Streamers join,
And the gay Poops with painted Gods do shine.
But on my Ship does only Venus stand
With little Cupid smiling in her Hand,
Guide of the Way she did her self command.
My Fleet thus rigg'd, and all my Thoughts on thee,
I long to plow the vast Ægean Sea,
My anxious Parents my Desires withstand,
And both with pious Tears my Stay command.
Cassandra too, with loose dishevel'd Hair,
Just as our hasty Ships to sail prepare,
Full of Prophetick Fury cries aloud,
O whither steers my Brother through the Flood?

434

Little, ah! little dost thou know or heed
To what a raging Fire these Waters lead.
True were her Fears, and in my Breast I feel
The scorching Flames her Fury did foretel.
Yet out I sail, and favour'd by the Wind,
On your blest Shore my wish'd-for Haven find;
Your Husband then, so Heav'n, kind Heav'n ordains,
In his own House his Rival entertains.
Shews me whate'er in Sparta does delight
The curious Travellers enquiring Sight:
But I, who only long'd to gaze on you,
Could taste no Pleasure in the idle shew.
But at thy Sight; oh! where was then my Heart!
Out from my Breast it gave a sudden Start,
Sprung forth and met half way the fatal Dart.
Such or less charming was the Queen of Love,
When with her Rival Goddesses the strove.

435

But, fairest, hadst thou come among the three,
Even she the Prize must have resign'd to thee.
Your Beauty is the only Theme of Fame,
And all the World sounds with fair Helen's Name;
Nor lives there she whom Pride it self can raise
To claim with you an equal Share of Praise.
Do I speak false? rather Report does so,
Detracting from you in a Praise too low.
More here I find than that could ever tell,
So much your Beauty does your Fame excel.
Well then might Theseus, he who all things knew,
Think none was worthy of his Theft but you;
I this bold Theft admire: but wonder more
He ever would so dear a Prize restore:
Ah! would these Hands have ever let you go?
Or could I live and be divorc'd from you?
No; sooner I with Life it self could part,
Than e'er see you torn from my bleeding Heart.

436

But could I do as he, and give you back,
Yet sure some Taste of Love I first would take,
Would first, in all your blooming Excellence,
And Virgins Sweets feast my luxurious Sense;
Or if you would not let that Treasure go,
Kisses at least you should, you would bestow,
And let me smell the Flow'r as it did grow.
Come then into my longing Arms, and try
My lasting, fix'd, Eternal Constancy,
Which never 'till my funeral Pile shall waste;
My present Fire shall mingle with my last.
Scepters and Crowns for you I did disdain,
With which great Juno tempted me in vain.
And when bright Pallas did her Bribes prepare,
One soft Embrace from you I did prefer
To Courage, Strength, and all the Pomp of War.
Nor shall I ever think my Choice was ill,
My Judgment's settled, and approves it still.

437

Do you but grant my Hopes may prove as true,
As they were plac'd above all Things but you.
I am, as well as you, of Heav'nly Race,
Nor will my Birth your mighty Line disgrace.
Pallas and Jove our Noble Lineage Head,
And them a Race of God-like Kings succeed.
All Asia's Scepters to my Father bow,
And half the spacious East his Power allow.
There you shall see the Houses rooft with Gold,
And Temples glorious as the Gods they hold.
Troy you shall see, and divine Walls admire,
Built to the Consort of Apollo's Lyre.
What need I the vast Flood of People tell,
That over its wide Banks does almost swell?
You shall gay Troops of Phrygian Matrons meet,
And Trojan Wives shining in every Street.
How often then will you your self confess
The Emptiness and Poverty of Greece?

438

How often will you say, one Palace there
Contains more wealth than do whole Cities here?
I speak not this your Sparta to disgrace,
For whereso'er your Life began its Race
Must be to me the happiest, dearest Place.
Yet Sparta's poor; and you that should be drest
In all the Riches of the shining East,
Should understand how ill that sordid Place
Suits with the Beauty of your charming Face;
That Face with costly Dress and rich Attire
Should shine, and make the gazing World admire.
When you the Habit of my Trojans see,
What, think ye, must that of their Ladies be?
Oh! then be kind, fair Spartan, nor disdain
A Trojan in your Bed to entertain.
He was a Trojan, and of our great Line,
That to the Gods does mix immortal Wine;
Tithonus too, whom to her rosie Bed
The Goddess of the Morning blushing led;

439

So was Anchises of our Trojan Race,
Yet Venus self to his desir'd Embrace,
With all her Train of little Loves, did flie,
And in his Arms learn'd for a while to lie.
Nor do I think that Menelaus can
Compar'd with me appear the greater Man.
I'm sure my Father never made the Sun
With frighted Steeds from his dire Banquet run:
No Grand-father of mine is stain'd with Blood,
Or with his Crime names the Myrtoan Flood.
None of our Race does in the Stygian Lake
Snatch at those Apples he wants Pow'r to take.
But stay; since you with such a Husband join,
Your Father Jove is forc'd to grace his Line.

He (Gods!) a Wretch unworthy of those Charms
Does all the Night lie melting in your Arms,

440

Does every Minute to new Joys improve,
And Riots in the luscious Sweets of Love.
I but at Table one short View can gain,
And that too, only to increase my Pain:
O may such Feasts my worst of Foes attend,
As often I at your spread Table find.
I loath my Food when my tormented Eye
Sees his rude Hand in your soft Bosom lie.
I burst with Envy when I him behold
Your tender Limbs in his loose Robe infold.
When he your Lips with melting Kisses seal'd,
Before my Eyes I the large Goblet held.
When you with him in strict Embraces close,
My hated Meat to my dry'd Palate grows.
Oft have I sigh'd, then sigh'd again to see
That Sigh with scornful Smiles repaid by thee.
Oft I with Wine would quench my hot Desire
In vain; for so I added Fire to Fire.

441

Oft have I turn'd away my Head in vain,
You straight recall'd my longing Eyes again.
What shall I do? your Sports with Grief I see,
But it's a greater, not to look on Thee.
With all my Art I strive my Flames to hide,
But through the thin Disguise they are descry'd,
Too well alas! my Wounds to you are known,
And O that they were so to you alone!
How oft turn I my weeping Eyes away,
Lest he the Cause should ask, and I betray?
What Tales of Love tell I when warm'd with Wine,
To Your dear Face applying every Line?
In borrow'd Names I my own Passion shew:
They the feign'd Lovers are, but I the true.
Sometimes more Freedom in Discourse to gain,
For my Excuse I Drunkenness would feign.
Once I remember your loose Garment fell,
And did your naked, swelling Breasts reveal,

442

Breasts white as snow, or the false down of Jove,
When to your Mother the kind Swan made Love:
Whilst with the Sight surpriz'd I gazing stand,
The Cup I held, dropt from my careless Hand.
If you your young Hermione but kiss,
Straight from her Lips I snatch the envy'd Bliss.
Sometimes supinely laid, Love Songs I sing,
And wafted Kisses from my Fingers fling.
Your Women to my Aid I try to move
With all the pow'rful Rhetorick of Love,
But they, alas! speak nothing but Despair,
And in the midst leave my neglected Prayer.
Oh! that by some great Prize you might be won,
And your Possession might the Victor crown,
As Pelops his Hippodamia won:
Then had you seen what I for you had done:
But now I've nothing left to do but pray,
And my self prostrate at your Feet to lay.

443

O thou, thy Houses Glory, brighter far
Than thy two shining Brothers friendly Star!
O worthy of the Bed of Heav'ns great King,
If ought so fair but from himself could spring!
Either with thee I back to Troy will fly,
Or here a wretched banish'd Lover die.
With no slight Wound my tender Breast does smart,
My Bones and Marrow feel the piercing Dart;
I find my Sister true did prophesie,
I with a heav'nly Dart should wounded die;
Despise not then a Love by Heav'n design'd,
So may the Gods still to your Vows be kind.

Much I could say, but what, will best be known
In your Apartment when we are alone.
You blush, and with a Superstitious dread,
Fear to defile the Sacred Marriage Bed:

444

Ah! Helen, can you then so simple be,
To think such Beauty can from Faults be free?
Or change that Face, or you must needs be kind;
Beauty and Virtue seldom have been join'd.
Jove and bright Venus do our Thefts approve,
Such Thefts as these gave you your Father Jove.
And if in you ought of your Parents last,
Can Jove and Leda's Daughter well be chast?
Yet then be chast when we to Troy shall go;
(For she who sins with one alone, is so.)
But let us now enjoy that pleasing Sin,
Then marry, and be innocent again.
Ev'n your own Husband doth the same perswade,
Silent himself, yet all his Actions plead:
For me they plead, and he, good Man, because
He'll spoil no Sport, officiously withdraws.
Had he no other time to visit Crete?
Oh! How prodigious is a Husband's Wit!

445

He went, and as he went, he cry'd, my Dear,
Instead of me, you of your Guest take Care.
But you forget your Lord's Command I see,
Nor take you any Care of Love or me.
And think you such a Thing as he does know
The Treasure that he holds in holding you?
No; did he understand but half your Charms,
He durst not trust 'em in a Strangers Arms.
If neither his nor my Request can move,
We're forc'd by Opportunity to love;
We should be Fools, even greater Fools than he,
Should so secure a Time unactive be.
Alone these tedious Winter Nights you lye
In a cold widow'd Bed, and so do I.
Let mutual Joys our willing Bodies join,
That happy Night shall the mid-day out-shine,
Then will I swear by all the Pow'rs above,
And in their awful Presence seal my Love.

446

Then if my Wishes may aspire so high,
I with our Flight shall win you to comply;
But if nice Honour little Scruples frame,
The Force I'll use shall vindicate your Fame.
Of Theseus and your Brothers I can learn,
No Precedents so nearly you concern:
You Theseus, they Leucippus Daughter stole;
I'll be the fourth in the illustrious Roll.
Well man'd, well arm'd for you my Fleet does stay,
And waiting Winds murmur at our Delay.
Thro' Troy's throng'd Streets you shall in Triumph go,
Ador'd as some new Goddess here below.
Where-e'er you tread, Spices and Gums shall smoak,
And Victims fall beneath the fatal Stroke.
My Father, Mother, all the joyful Court,
All Troy to you with Presents shall resort.
Alas! 'tis nothing what I yet have said,
What there you'll find, shall what I write exceed.

447

Nor fear, lest War pursue our hasty Flight,
And angry Greece should all her Force unite:
What ravish'd Maid did ever Wars regain?
Vain the Attempt, and fear of it as vain.
The Thracians Orithya stole from far,
Yet Thrace ne'er heard the Noise of following War.
Jason too stole away the Colchian Maid,
Yet Colchos did not Thessaly invade.
He who stole you, stole Ariadne too,
Yet Minos did not with all Creet pursue.
Fear in these Cases than the Danger's more,
And when the threat'ning Tempest once is o'er,
Our Shame's then greater than our Fear before.
But say from Greece a threatned War pursue,
Know I have Strength and wounding Weapons too.
In Men and Horse more numerous than Greece
Our Empire is, nor in its Compass less.

448

Nor does your Husband Paris ought excel
In Generous Courage or in Martial Skill.
Ev'n but a Boy, from my slain Foes I gain'd
My stollen Herd, and a new Name attain'd;
Ev'n then o'ercome by me I cou'd produce
Deiphobus and great Ilioneus.
Nor Hand to Hand more to be fear'd am I,
Than when from far my certain Arrows fly.
You for his Youth can no such Actions feign,
Nor can he e'er my envy'd Skill attain.
But could he, Hector's your Security,
And he alone an Army is to me.
You know me not, nor the hid Prowess find
Of him that Heav'n has for your Bed design'd.
Either no War from Greece shall follow thee,
Or if it does, shall be repell'd by me.
Nor think I fear to fight for such a Wife,
That Prize would give the Coward's Courage Life.

449

All after-Ages shall your Fame admire,
If you alone set the whole World on Fire.
To Sea, to Sea, while all the Gods are kind,
And all I promise, you in Troy shall find.

University of Virginia Library

PARIS to HELENA.

The ARGUMENT.