Corydon and Cochrania A Pastoral On The Nuptials of the High and Potent Prince, His Grace James Duke of Hamiltoun, Chatelherault and Brandon, &c. with the Lady Anne Cochran, Eldest Daughter of the Right Honourable John Earl of Dundonald, &c. Solemniz'd February 14, 1723. By A. P. [i.e. Alexander Pennecuik] |
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 | Corydon and Cochrania |  |
When to his Arms they brought her Virgin Love,
Fair Angels sung their Bridal Song above;
Th'Eternal nodding shook the Firmament,
And conscious Nature gave her glad Consent:
Roses unbud, and every fragrant Flower,
Flew from their Stalks, to strow the nuptial Bowr;
The furr'd and feather'd Kind the Triumph did pursue,
And Fishes leapt above the Streams, the passing Pomp to view.
Fair Angels sung their Bridal Song above;
Th'Eternal nodding shook the Firmament,
And conscious Nature gave her glad Consent:
Roses unbud, and every fragrant Flower,
Flew from their Stalks, to strow the nuptial Bowr;
The furr'd and feather'd Kind the Triumph did pursue,
And Fishes leapt above the Streams, the passing Pomp to view.
Dryd. State of In.
Corydon and Cochrania ,
A PASTORAL ON The Nuptials of the High and Potent Prince, His Grace JAMES Duke of Hamilton, Chatelherault and Brandon, &c. With the Lady ANNE COCHRAN, Eldest Daughter of the Right Honourable, JOHN Earl of Dundonald, &c.
Milindor. Polydor.Milindor.
Of Late our Fields wore sick and pallid Looks,
Trees hung their Heads, and Fish forsook the Brooks.
Now on a Sudden, all are green and gay,
Cold frozen Februar laughs and looks like May,
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Thou'rt joyful as the Spring, and blooming as the Rose.
Polydor.
Let your Fields laugh, and all the Rivers smile,
With Shoots let's spread the News thro' all the Isle,
We've got a vital Touch revives the Dead,
Which makes each Mountain raise its drousy Head,
Nature, in Haste throws off her Winter Dress,
And all Things here, a Nuptial Day confess;
Attending Crouds on fair Cochrania wait,
And throng about her to the Temple Gate,
And Holy Priests stand there attending on,
To give the lovely Nymph to God like Corydon.
Milindor.
Thou Polydor dart'st comforts thro' my Soul,
Which makes my Heart warm as an Altar Coal,
High Tides of Joy, do swell my lab'ring Breast,
It rages in my Soul, I'm with the Weight oppress'd,
Tho' from the neighbouring Wood rusht furth a Boar,
And with fierce Claws devour'd my fleecy Store,
My Looks a Mirth and Pleasure would confess,
Which neither Voice could sing, nor Words express.
Fortune hath made a-Mends, for all her Crimes,
Let Wanton Willie with his natural Rhimes,
And all the Poets with a heavenly Flight,
Proclaim this Day the Source of all Delight,
Encumbred with their Wealth, see how the Cows
Unload their Dugs beneath these verdant Youghs,
An unknown Weight of Fruit, bows down the Trees,
And Honey bursts the Thighs of labouring Bees,
Pain'd with a double Birth our Flocks do roar,
And Fish for Room come swimming to the Shoar
Nature complains her Lap can hold no more,
The Myrtles bloom, tho' formerly they mourn'd,
We'll see the Golden Age, this is Elysium turn'd.
Which makes my Heart warm as an Altar Coal,
High Tides of Joy, do swell my lab'ring Breast,
It rages in my Soul, I'm with the Weight oppress'd,
Tho' from the neighbouring Wood rusht furth a Boar,
And with fierce Claws devour'd my fleecy Store,
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Which neither Voice could sing, nor Words express.
Fortune hath made a-Mends, for all her Crimes,
Let Wanton Willie with his natural Rhimes,
And all the Poets with a heavenly Flight,
Proclaim this Day the Source of all Delight,
Encumbred with their Wealth, see how the Cows
Unload their Dugs beneath these verdant Youghs,
An unknown Weight of Fruit, bows down the Trees,
And Honey bursts the Thighs of labouring Bees,
Pain'd with a double Birth our Flocks do roar,
And Fish for Room come swimming to the Shoar
Nature complains her Lap can hold no more,
The Myrtles bloom, tho' formerly they mourn'd,
We'll see the Golden Age, this is Elysium turn'd.
Had I our Willie's Tongue his Grace of Speech,
My Song should to remotest Corners reach;
Yet tho' I have no Title to the Bays,
In Rural Notes, I'll sing Cochrania's Praise.
My Song should to remotest Corners reach;
Yet tho' I have no Title to the Bays,
In Rural Notes, I'll sing Cochrania's Praise.
Polydor,
And I brave Corydon's the Divine Man,
Pride of the Plains scarce equaliz'd by Pan.
Pride of the Plains scarce equaliz'd by Pan.
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Come all ye Nymphs and Swains, come sport and play,
Albion Rejoice, and keep the Holy Day.
Albion Rejoice, and keep the Holy Day.
Begin Milindor with the joyful Song,
To hear it, let the listning Angels throng.
To hear it, let the listning Angels throng.
Milindor.
Where ere she goes her Feet stamp Nature new,
The blasted Grass puts on a verdant Hue,
And blooming Plants start up, where dying Dasies grew.
From frozen Winter Beds, dead Swallows rise,
To bask in Beams shot from her radiant Eyes:
Where ere she stands, the Place is Holy Ground,
She scatters Immortality around,
She shines like Phæbus in Meridian Pride,
Without a dusky Cloud her Face to hide,
Her Heat's more Natural for it's not so hot,
She's clearer than the Moon, and has no Spot.
The blasted Grass puts on a verdant Hue,
And blooming Plants start up, where dying Dasies grew.
From frozen Winter Beds, dead Swallows rise,
To bask in Beams shot from her radiant Eyes:
Where ere she stands, the Place is Holy Ground,
She scatters Immortality around,
She shines like Phæbus in Meridian Pride,
Without a dusky Cloud her Face to hide,
Her Heat's more Natural for it's not so hot,
She's clearer than the Moon, and has no Spot.
Come all ye Nymphs and Swains, &c.
When she the Heav'n born Nymph trips thro' the Plain,
A Leathergy of Love numbs every Swain.
Old Matrons with kind youthful Looks do smile,
And Bees in busy Swarms, hum o'er the grassy Pile,
The Nightingale, Heaven's Poet Laureat sings,
And Chanticlears on Roosts, do crow and clap their Wings
The Sun rolls lasy down the Western Skies;
As loath to lose the Gazing on her Eyes,
With trembling Rev'rence at her Feet we bow,
As Sprigs of Grass bend with the Morning Dew.
A Leathergy of Love numbs every Swain.
Old Matrons with kind youthful Looks do smile,
And Bees in busy Swarms, hum o'er the grassy Pile,
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And Chanticlears on Roosts, do crow and clap their Wings
The Sun rolls lasy down the Western Skies;
As loath to lose the Gazing on her Eyes,
With trembling Rev'rence at her Feet we bow,
As Sprigs of Grass bend with the Morning Dew.
Come all &c.
When we're with her, how dance the Hours away,
Incense is offer'd still to make them stay,
O! She's the Grace and Glory of the Plain,
Humble as Shrubs that droop with Evening Rain,
When last she travell'd thro' this Desart wild,
The Planets listned, and the Herbage smil'd,
Her Name is Musick and a Magick Charm,
To save our Woods, and all our Heaths from Harm.
Ambrosial Odors blow within her Arms,
All Eyes are blind that do not see her Charms.
Incense is offer'd still to make them stay,
O! She's the Grace and Glory of the Plain,
Humble as Shrubs that droop with Evening Rain,
When last she travell'd thro' this Desart wild,
The Planets listned, and the Herbage smil'd,
Her Name is Musick and a Magick Charm,
To save our Woods, and all our Heaths from Harm.
Ambrosial Odors blow within her Arms,
All Eyes are blind that do not see her Charms.
Come all, &c.
By all the Renfrew Shepherds 'tis confess'd,
A glorious Sun arises in the West,
Thro' spacious Fields, by all the Swains its told,
This Sun hath more Adorers than the Old,
When on the Pype she tells her amorous Tale,
How Corydon did speak, and how he did prevail,
Fauns, and the fairy Queen leap forth to hear the Sound,
Whilst Wolfs and Beasts of Prey, ly blasted on the Ground;
Unusual Wildness in their Looks appear,
Seeing the Tyrants of the Wood, thus conquer'd by the Fair.
But Cupid mounted on his Airy Carr
Shoots Arrows 'mongst the Swains, and scatters War.
A glorious Sun arises in the West,
Thro' spacious Fields, by all the Swains its told,
This Sun hath more Adorers than the Old,
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How Corydon did speak, and how he did prevail,
Fauns, and the fairy Queen leap forth to hear the Sound,
Whilst Wolfs and Beasts of Prey, ly blasted on the Ground;
Unusual Wildness in their Looks appear,
Seeing the Tyrants of the Wood, thus conquer'd by the Fair.
But Cupid mounted on his Airy Carr
Shoots Arrows 'mongst the Swains, and scatters War.
Come all, &c.
Great Ruler of the Day, haste down thy Coach,
Command thy shining Sons, the Stars, t'approach,
Then to surround the Bed, and light the Bridal Torch:
Ye Gods, your Hymning Guards above dispatch,
To take their Sent'ry Posts, and round them watch;
A Serenad from your Celestial Hall,
Will grace the Mask, and bless the Ev'ning Ball
O bless the best of Swains, the first of Peers,
Let the laborious Night crown all our future Years.
Command thy shining Sons, the Stars, t'approach,
Then to surround the Bed, and light the Bridal Torch:
Ye Gods, your Hymning Guards above dispatch,
To take their Sent'ry Posts, and round them watch;
A Serenad from your Celestial Hall,
Will grace the Mask, and bless the Ev'ning Ball
O bless the best of Swains, the first of Peers,
Let the laborious Night crown all our future Years.
Come all ye Nymphs and Swains, come sport and play,
Albion rejoice, and keep the Holy Day.
Albion rejoice, and keep the Holy Day.
Venus Propitious to the Nuptial Night,
With youthful Charms, assist the Am'rous Fight,
Teach him the soothing Arts that catch the Fair
Strew Blessings on the Bed, and hear each Shepherd's Prayer.
Low, at thy Altars we thy Aid invock,
And offer up the fattest of our Flock.
With youthful Charms, assist the Am'rous Fight,
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Strew Blessings on the Bed, and hear each Shepherd's Prayer.
Low, at thy Altars we thy Aid invock,
And offer up the fattest of our Flock.
Come all, &c.
'Tis he that guides his Vassals midst the Rocks,
To shun the bitter Blasts, and wheel about their Flocks;
Tho' sprung of Royal Blood, he shuns the Court,
Covets soft Peace, and lives in Rural Sport:
From an infectious Court he soon withdrew,
To court substantial Bless and Pleasures true,
Delights untainted, and his Country's Praise,
And mocks the Tumult of the Court, and hates her factious Way
Sails down the Streams of Life, gay and secure,
Sports on the Plains with Marks of Sovereign Power.
To shun the bitter Blasts, and wheel about their Flocks;
Tho' sprung of Royal Blood, he shuns the Court,
Covets soft Peace, and lives in Rural Sport:
From an infectious Court he soon withdrew,
To court substantial Bless and Pleasures true,
Delights untainted, and his Country's Praise,
And mocks the Tumult of the Court, and hates her factious Way
Sails down the Streams of Life, gay and secure,
Sports on the Plains with Marks of Sovereign Power.
Come all, &c.
When his Hand weilds the Sheep compelling Rod,
The Sheep-herds take him for their Guardian God;
His Language melts the most obdurate Breasts,
[illeg.]is Nod the wildest Savages arrests
By nat'ral Instinct they all Homage pay,
The Greatness of his Birth, makes every one obey,
He rules the Plains, but not by Lion's Law
The sweetest Youth that ever Shepherd saw;
Yet doth not fish for Fame, and low Means use,
To stain the Glory of his noble House.
The Sheep-herds take him for their Guardian God;
His Language melts the most obdurate Breasts,
[illeg.]is Nod the wildest Savages arrests
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The Greatness of his Birth, makes every one obey,
He rules the Plains, but not by Lion's Law
The sweetest Youth that ever Shepherd saw;
Yet doth not fish for Fame, and low Means use,
To stain the Glory of his noble House.
Come all, &c.
He gives new Garments when our Cloths grow old
'Tis he that paints our fleecy Skirts with Gold,
Wearied all Day with toiling at the Fold,
Angling the Brooks. and trembling with the Cold;
To his fair Tent at Night, we do advance,
Are chearful with full Bowls, more chearful in the Dance,
When he and merry Lark awakes the Morn,
She with her Notes, he with the winding Horn,
Upon the Banks of Clyde appears so bright,
The Shepherds smile to see the lovely Sight;
The Cristal Streams, fond of such Interviews,
Roll quickly down, to tell the joyful News.
'Tis he that paints our fleecy Skirts with Gold,
Wearied all Day with toiling at the Fold,
Angling the Brooks. and trembling with the Cold;
To his fair Tent at Night, we do advance,
Are chearful with full Bowls, more chearful in the Dance,
When he and merry Lark awakes the Morn,
She with her Notes, he with the winding Horn,
Upon the Banks of Clyde appears so bright,
The Shepherds smile to see the lovely Sight;
The Cristal Streams, fond of such Interviews,
Roll quickly down, to tell the joyful News.
Come all, &c.
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When thro' the thorny Woods he takes his Way,
Each conscious Bush its Weakness doth betray,
Draws back its wounding Arms, that he may catch the fleeing Prey
By Tyrany and Force some Sovereigns reign,
He's half by Birth, by Choice our only King.
Each conscious Bush its Weakness doth betray,
Draws back its wounding Arms, that he may catch the fleeing Prey
By Tyrany and Force some Sovereigns reign,
He's half by Birth, by Choice our only King.
Come all ye Nymphs and Swains, come sport and play;
Albion rejoice, and keep the Holy Day.
Albion rejoice, and keep the Holy Day.
| Corydon and Cochrania | |