 | A Collection of Poems in Six Volumes |  |
CANTO II.
ARGUMENT.
The Squire he lights on Bon-vivant,Who wons in Fairy soil,
Then views in Merlin's magick glass
A sight that ends his toil.
I
To gain the point to which our soul aspiresWe nourish toil, and reek hard labour sweet;
For this, thro' Greenland's frosts, or India's fires,
The hardy sailors death and dangers meet;
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In blood imbru'd pursues the martial fray,
And lovers eke thro' life's loud tempests beat,
Led on by hope, that never-dying ray;
Hope wantons in their breast, and strews with flow'rs the way.
II
And sure of all mankind the Squire of DamesShall stand the first ensample of true love,
Who aye, untouch'd by any foreign flames,
Preserv'd his passion for his gentle dove;
Blush, modern youths, whose pulses quickly move,
Fondly you glote upon the witching fair;
Yet, when a sweet enjoyment once you prove,
You leave the nymph intangled in the snare,
Her tears flow trickling down, her singults pierce the air.
III
Oh think of transports which ye whilom tasted,And let the glad remembrance charm your mind,
Be not the fruits of joyment quickly wasted,
And to your heart her happy image bind:
Think what she merits who whilear was kind,
Nor by inconstancy her peace destroy;
Inconstancy, that monster fell and blind:
That vainly fond of ev'ry passing toy,
Treads down its late delight, and poisons rapt'rous joy.
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IV
Return we now unto our gentle youth,Whose little bark daunc'd lightly on the main,
His breast divided atween joy and ruth;
Now gay ideas wanton in his brain,
Now woe-begon his heart is rent in twain,
On his success depends his Columbel;
And now he hopes, and now desponds again;
The various turns of mind, when thoughts rebel,
Sure pen mote ne'er describe, and none but lovers tell.
V
Methinks I see him on the beachy strond,Where Neptune's waves affrap the sturdy pier;
His hardy steed neighs at the sight of lond,
In all adventures a most faithful seer;
And thro' that city he doth quickly steer,
Which Ethelbert to holy Austin gave:
The kings of Kent did erst inhabit here,
Here haughty Becket sunk into the grave,
Here thro' the smiling meads, Stoure rolls his dimpling wave.
VI
Long travell'd he, ne ventur'd to assayThe nymphs he met, for much he was affraid
To bribes or pray'rs few women would cry nay;
At flatt'ry's tongue full oft will virtue fade;
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He must three hundred virtuous females find,
Perdie, quoth he, my fortune be essay'd,
I'll boldly try the strength of womankind:
For craven heart, they say, ne'er won fair lady's mind.
VII
So on he prick'd, and from a rising groundDiscern'd before him, in a distant vale,
A castle fair: and auncient oaks around
Did to the breeze their lofty heads avail;
A silver stream refresh'd the fragrant dale;
Their ledden loud fat oxen did repeat,
And nibbling sheep display'd their fleeces pale,
The woodbine shed an odor matchless sweet,
And to their patient dams the frisking lambkins bleat.
VIII
To that same castle our advent'rer yode,The merry birds him welcom'd on the way,
An hundred flow'rs aumail'd the winding road,
And all was bright, and all was passing gay,
You would have sworn it was the month of May.
Withouten drad he thunders at the gate,
Who wons within, or giant, knight or fay,
Shall ne'er, in sooth, our imp of fame amate:
Unto the summons loud the portal opens streit.
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IX
And forth there issued the seneschal,Of middle age he was, if right I ween,
He was in personage both plump and tall,
Ne seemed he to taste of dol'rous teen,
Ne wrinkle deep was on his forehead seen,
But jovisaunce sat basking on his brow,
At every word he spoke, he smil'd at-ween,
His temples were ycrown'd with myrtle bough,
And virelays he song with matchless grace, I vow.
X
“Whoe'er thou art, thrice welcome to these plains,“Where bitter dole ne'er shows her hateful head,
“Good-fellowship wons here, and free from pains
“Both youth and eld the paths of pleasure tread;
“Catch flying bliss, ne be by ought foresaid;
“Think that this life is but a little span;
“Then laugh, and sport, and shun all dreryhed,
“Thy rolling days in present pleasures plan,
“Come, spend thy hours in joy, thou son of mortal man.
XI
“Know'st thou my name! I am l'Allegro hight,“Let me conduct thee to our jovial hall,
“Where Bon-vivant in revels spends the night,
“Who bids a hearty welcome unto all,
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With that he lad him with a courtly air
Into a chamber deck'd for feast and ball;
And tho' no tedes or tapers glimmer'd there,
Yet all within was bright, as all without was fair.
XII
As at the close of an hot summer's day,When Phœbus in the west deserts the sky,
Bright streams of light along the æther play,
And tho' his fi'ry orb forsake our eye,
The beamy gushes gild each object nigh;
The painted meads are ting'd with golden light,
And rivers roll their glitt'ring waters by;
So in this house of joy with ease you might
Perceive celestial rays, that cherish'd human fight.
XIII
The Squire of Dames his jolly host salew'd,And Bon-vivant his hond in friendship press'd;
“Come, sit thee down, and taste our choicest food;
“We entertake, quoth he, no vulgar guest.
“Enur'd to toil, come taste the sweets of rest,
“Doff thy hard arms, this samite garment wear,
“This better far than mail shall bind thy breast,
“This coronal shall deck thy auburn hair;
“Push the brisk goblet round, and drown intruding care.
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XIV
“For us the lark attunes his morning song,“For us the spring depeints her ev'ry flow'r,
“To sooth our sleep yon fountain purls along,
“And oaks to shade us, twine into a bow'r,
“The pensive bard sits many a watchful hour,
“In ditty sweet, to carol forth our praise:
“While valour spends his days in dole and stour,
“We, wiser we, undying trophies raise
“To ever-blooming bliss, ne reek what wisdom says.
XV
“With sprightly notes we make the welkin ring,“In mazy daunce we tread the chequer'd ground,
“To yielding nymphs transported shepherds sing,
“Ne hard misfare emongst our train is found.
“The simple swain, who looks with cark astoun'd
“Because his leman ill rewards his care,
“Oh, let him stond to all a lout renown'd,
“Ne gibing scorn her twitting bords forbear;
“Are there not other nymphs less coy, and full as fair?”
XVI
At this the Squire wex'd pale, “Ne eath it is,“Most courteous knight, he cry'd, far to remove
“The thoughts of her in whom we place all bliss.”
Quoth Bon-vivant, “What, then thou art in love?”
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Return'd the Squire. L'Allegro then reply'd,
“Thou'dst better wend to yonder willow grove,
“Where shoals of lovers hanging side by side,
“Feed the vile carrion crows, and highten female pride.”
XVII
With that he brast into a scornful laugh,And much abash'd appear'd our constant Squire;
The others sportful the brisk vintage quaff.
While thus the springal. “Yes, I do aspire
“To love the fairest of the female quire.
“Three hundred virtuous damsels in this isle
“I came to find.” “Perdie, your odd desire,
“Quoth Bon-vivant, will ask thee muchel toil;
“And thou shalt travel too full many a weary mile.
XVIII
“'Tis not enough the conduct of the fair“Is form'd by frowning virtue's strictest leer:
“The blatant-beast does here in pieces tear
“The fame of those ybred in school severe;
“His rankling tongue throughout the rolling year
“With baleful venom ev'ry thing consumes;
“Where beauty's splendor gilds our northern sphere
“He slyly creeps, and to destruction dooms
“The honour of the spring, and wisdom's early blooms.
XIX
“The brindled lyon in the lonely wood“Hides his grim aspect from the sight of men;
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“Reside contented in sequester'd den;
“Not so the blatant-beast, he lives in ken
“Of the proud city or well-peopled town;
“Thence with detested fury he will ren,
“Ne spare the prelate's lawn, or monarch's crown:
“All fares alike with him, for all he tumbleth down.
XX
“What then avails it to be fair or wise?“Or what avails it to be warlike knight?
“Where-e'er the monster casts his fi'ry eyes,
“Each grace, each virtue sickens at the sight.
“Then goodly Squire, until the morning's light
“Quaff the thick darkness of the night away;
“And, when the morn shall rise, in arms bedight
“Proceed, and luck attend you on your way;
“Algates we wish in truth with us you'd ever stay.”
XXI
The Squire agrees, but vows, when rising mornShall gild the glitt'rand portals of the east,
Himself he will in habergeon adorn,
And seek around the isle the blatant-beast:
Mean while in buxom mirth they spend the feast.
Ill fares the mortal man too much who knows;
Oft shall he wish himself from thought releast;
The fatal knowledge in his bosom glows,
And mars his golden rest, and murders soft repose.
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XXII
Sir Chaunticleer now ey'd the rising day,And call'd dame Partlet from her vetchy bed;
Now wakeful Phospher spreads his gleamy ray,
And the pale moon conceal'd her silver head;
The cattle brouze the lawn with dew bespread,
While ev'ry bird from out the buskets flies.
Then to the field our lover issued;
But sleep had seal'd l'Allegro's drousy eyes,
And Bon-vivant also in downy slumber lies.
XXIII
Our Squire, withouten drad, pursu'd his way,And look'd around to spy this monster fell,
And many a well conceited roundelay
He sung in honour of his Columbel:
Mote he, perchaunce, destroy this spawn of hell,
How easy were the task to him assign'd?
The lond of Fairy doth each lond excel;
View there the paragons of womankind;
View the bright virgins there, and leave thy heart behind.
XXIV
Ah! lever should'st thou try the females thereThan thus unwise another course pursue;
There ev'ry nymph is innocent as fair:
Try what I here advance, you'll find it true.
Hard is our fate while bliss in hopes we sew,
Some deadly fiend to blast our joy appears;
Contentment sweet, alas, is known to few.
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But soon he hides his head, and melts in dropping tears.
XXV
Life is a scene of conteck and distress,Ne is it longer than a winter's day;
And shall we make our few enjoyments less?
Far from my cot, thou blatant-beast away.
No husband's noul will I with horns array,
Ne shall my tongue its venom'd malice wreak
On tuneful bards, whom laurel crowns apay;
Ne will I 'gainst the comely matron speak,
Or draw one pearly drop down beauty's rosy cheek.
XXVI
The Squire of Dames rode on with muchel tine,And, as he cast askaunce his greedy look,
He saw empight beneath an auncient pine
A hoary shepherd leaning on his crook;
His falling tears increas'd the swelling brook:
And he did sigh as he would break his heart.
“O thou deep-read in sorrow's baleful book,
“The Squire exclaim'd, areed thy burning smart;
“Our dolors grow more light when we the tale impart.”
XXVII
To whom the swain reply'd, “O gentle youth,“Yon fruitful meads my num'rous herds possess'd,
“My days roll'd on unknown to pain or ruth,
“And one fair daughter my old age ybless'd.
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“With kirtle ty'd with many a colour'd string,
“Thy tongue to all the world had then confess'd
“That she was sheener than the pheasant's wing,
“And, when she rais'd her voice, ne lark so soot could sing.
XXVIII
“In virtue's thews I bred the lovely maid,“And she right well the lessons did pursue;
“Too wise she was to be by man betray'd;
“But the curst blatant-beast her form did view,
“And round our plains did spread a tale untrue,
“That Rosabella, spurning marriage band,
“Had felt those pangs which virgin never knew,
“And that Sir Topas my poor girl trepann'd;
“He, who in sable stole doth in our pulpit stand.
XXIX
“Nay, more, the hellish monster has invented,“How a young swain on Shannon's banks yborn
“(Had not my care the deep-laid plot prevented)
“Would from my arms my Rosabel have born.
“Have I not cause to weep from rising morn
“'Till Phœbus welketh in the western main,
“To see my dearling's fame thus vildly torn?
“Have I not cause to nourish endless pain?”
At this he deeply sigh'd, and wept full sore again.
XXX
“Curst be this blatant-beast, reply'd the Squire,“That thus infects your sea-begirted isle;
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“Upon this imp of hell, this monster vile.”
“Away from hence not passing sure a mile,
“Might I advise you, you had better wend,”
Return'd the swain, “Deep-read in magick-style
“There Merlin wons, sue him to be your friend;
“And lest you miss your way, myself will you attend.”
XXXI
Together now they seek the hermitageDeep in the covert of a dusky glade,
Where in his dortour wons the hoary sage.
The moss-grown trees did form a gloomy shade,
Their rustling leaves a solemn musick made,
And fairies nightly tripp'd the aweful green,
And if the tongue of fame have truth display'd,
Full many a spectre was at midnight seen,
Torn from his earthly grave, a horrid sight! I ween.
XXXII
Ne rose, ne vi'let glads the chearless bow'r,Ne fringed pink from earth's green bosom grew:
But hemlock dire, and ev'ry baleful flow'r
Might here be found, and knots of mystick rue.
Close to the cell sprong up an auncient yew,
And store of imps were on its boughs ypight,
At his behests they from its branches flew,
And, in a thousand various forms bedight,
Frisk'd to the moon's pale wain, and revell'd all the night.
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XXXIII
Around the cave a clustring ivy spreadIn wide embrace his over-twining arms,
Within, the walls with characters bespread
Declar'd the pow'rful force of magick charms.
Here drugs were plac'd destructive of all harms,
And books that deep futurity could scan:
Here stood a spell that of his rage disarms
The mountain lyon 'till he yields to man;
With many secrets more, which scarce repeat I can.
XXXIV
The Squire of Dames deep enters in the cell:What will not valiant heart for beauty dare?
His borrel fere here bids his friend farewell,
And home he wends renewing cark and care.
When, louting low with a becoming air,
The youth cry'd out, “O thrice renowned mage,
“Vouchsafe to cure me of my black dispair;
“For thou not only art grown wise thro' age,
“But art of mortal man by far the wisest sage.”
XXXV
Then Merlin with a look benign reply'd,(For he was bred with ev'ry courteous thew)
“I know to make fair Columbel your bride
“The blatant-beast you thro' the lond pursue;
“The fate of empires now demands my view,
“And for awhile denys my presence here;
“Soon in this cell I'll thee again salew,
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“Share all my cave affords, nor think I grudge my chear.
XXXVI
“Yet mark my counsel, open not that door,“Lest thou repent thy follies when too late,
“Ten thousand pangs shall make thy heart full sore,
“For horror scouls behind that heben gate,
“And future ills shall thy dear peace amate;
“There stands a mirror, wrought by magick leer,
“In which are read the dark decrees of fate,
“And whom you wish to see will streit appear,
“Devoid of art's false mask, to human eye-sight clear.
XXXVII
“Ah how unlike the godlike man he seem'd“In this my glass the patriot I've descry'd,
“By the vile rabblement a saint esteem'd?
“He's oft a wretch compos'd of sloth and pride:
“And Kesars too, not seldom deify'd,
“With other men their vice and follies share;
“And by my mirror if the nymph be try'd,
“It will without reserve the truth declare,
“Ne flatter head that's crown'd, ne flatter face that's fair.
XXXVIII
“Once more let me advise thee, gentle Squire,“Forbear to look at this same magick glass;
“Do not too rashly into fate enquire—
“But I to foreign stronds awhile must pass.”
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“Would I could know the lot to me assign'd.”
“Patience, quoth Merlin, doth all things surpass.”
Then to his car were winged dragons join'd,
With which he sails thro' air, and far outstrips the wind.
XXXIX
And now the Squire surveys the lonesome cave,His wav'ring mind is in a whirlwind tost,
And now the mirror he resolves to brave,
And now he finds his boasted courage lost.
At length determin'd whatsoe'er it cost,
To see the glass, he darts into the cell;
And, lest his eyes by vild retrait be crost,
Thrice he invokes his lovely Columbel.
As Adam fell of yore, the Squire of Dames yfell.
XL
The heben doors full widely he display'd,And saw the lovely queen of all his heart,
Fair as the lilly in the watry glade,
Bright as the morn, and bright withouten art,
Thro' ev'ry vein he feels a thrillant smart:
For the dear maid lay on her bed undress'd,
And, may I unreprov'd the truth impart,
She hugg'd a lusty stripling to her breast,
Whom she full closely clipp'd, and wantonly caress'd.
XLI
“O faytor false, O wicked imp of night!Exclaim'd the Squire astound, “ah! wealaway!
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“With foulest sprites the sons of men affray,
“And blot for ever the fair face of day.
“Ye haggard sisters, sound my passing-bell;
“Oh! ne'er believe, ye youths, what women say.
“O losel loose, O impious Columbel!”
Then like a stean to earth full heavily he fell.
XLII
There shall we leave him, for my leaky boatLets in the water, and I must recure
Her much-worn hulk, that scarcely now can float,
And moor'd in harbour she shall ride secure;
Then if I can a pilot wise procure,
Mayhap I may again hoist forth my sail,
And other hardy voyages endure
Thro' shelves and shallows: now the adverse gale
Gives me some time to rest, and lond with joy I hail.
| A Collection of Poems in Six Volumes | |