Anacreon Bion. Moschvs. Kisses, by Secundus. Cvpid crvcified, by Ausonius. Venvs vigils, Incerto Authore [by Thomas Stanley] |
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Epitaph on Adonis.
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| II. |
| III. |
| IV. |
| V. |
| VI. |
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 | Anacreon |  |
Epitaph on Adonis.
Idyll. I.
Adonis
I lament; he's dead! the fair
Adonis dead is! Loves his mourners are;
Venus, no more in Scarlet coverings rest,
Rise cloth'd in Black; & beating thy sad breast,
Adonis dead is, to the World declare;
I wail Adonis, Loves his mourners are.
Adonis dead is! Loves his mourners are;
Venus, no more in Scarlet coverings rest,
Rise cloth'd in Black; & beating thy sad breast,
Adonis dead is, to the World declare;
I wail Adonis, Loves his mourners are.
On barren Mountains doth Adonis ly,
A Boares white tusk hath gor'd his whiter thigh:
His short Pants Venus grieve; black blood distains
His snowy Skin, his Eye no life retains:
The Rose is from his pale Lip fled, with it
Died that dear Kiss which Venus nere will quit:
His liveless kiss to Venus pleasing is,
But dead Adonis not perceiv'd her kiss.
I wail Adonis, Loves his mourners are.
A Boares white tusk hath gor'd his whiter thigh:
His short Pants Venus grieve; black blood distains
His snowy Skin, his Eye no life retains:
The Rose is from his pale Lip fled, with it
Died that dear Kiss which Venus nere will quit:
His liveless kiss to Venus pleasing is,
But dead Adonis not perceiv'd her kiss.
I wail Adonis, Loves his mourners are.
In young Adonis thigh a deep deep wound,
But deeper far in Venus breast is found.
His lov'd Hounds o're the Boy a howling keep,
And all the mountain-Nymphs about him weep;
Venus, with hair disshevel'd, through the groves
Frantick, in loose attire and barefoot roves;
About her legs the blood-stain'd brambles cling,
And the wide valleys with her shrill cries ring,
She calls her Boy, her lov'd Assyrian Spouse,
Whilst bubling gore, sprung from his thigh, oreflows
His breast; the whiteness which so late orespread
His limbs, is now converted into red.
I wail Adonis Loves his, &c.
But deeper far in Venus breast is found.
His lov'd Hounds o're the Boy a howling keep,
And all the mountain-Nymphs about him weep;
Venus, with hair disshevel'd, through the groves
Frantick, in loose attire and barefoot roves;
About her legs the blood-stain'd brambles cling,
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She calls her Boy, her lov'd Assyrian Spouse,
Whilst bubling gore, sprung from his thigh, oreflows
His breast; the whiteness which so late orespread
His limbs, is now converted into red.
I wail Adonis Loves his, &c.
Her beauty with her beauteous Spouse she lost
Whilst her Adonis liv'd Venus could boast
Her form; but that (alas) did with him dy:
Mountains and Oaks, Ah poor Adonis cry;
Rivers Cythera's miseries resent;
And Fountains young Adonis losse lament;
Flowers are with grief turn'd purple; all the Hills
And City with her sad shrieks Venus fills
Whilst her Adonis liv'd Venus could boast
Her form; but that (alas) did with him dy:
Mountains and Oaks, Ah poor Adonis cry;
Rivers Cythera's miseries resent;
And Fountains young Adonis losse lament;
Flowers are with grief turn'd purple; all the Hills
And City with her sad shrieks Venus fills
Poor Venus thy Adonis murther'd lies!
Adonis murther'd lies, Eccho replies.
Thy hapless love tears from all eyes would draw;
Soon as Adonis ghastly wound She saw,
Soon as his thigh which bath'd in black gore lay,
Spreading her arms She cries, Adonis stay,
Hapless Adonis stay but till I twine
Thee in my arms, and mix my lips with thine;
Adonis wake so short a while, to give
A dying kisse but whilst a kisse may live;
Thy fleeting spirit to my breast bequeath,
And I will suck Loves Nectar in thy breath,
Thy love Ile drink, and in Adonis sted
Will keep that kisse when thou unkinde art fled,
Fled far Adonis, gone to Acheron
To the deaf King, and I left all alone
As Goddess am to follow thee denied.
Take my Spouse Proserpine, thy power's more wide
Then mine; to thee and Pluto all that's fair
Devolves; unhappy Me lost in despair,
Jealous of thee for my Adonis dead!
He's dead, and like a dream our loves are fled.
Venus a widow, Loves are Orphans now,
My Cestus lost with Thee: why huntedst thou?
To cope with beasts thy softness was not made:
Thus Venus mourns whilst Loves her sorrows aid.
Adonis murther'd lies, Eccho replies.
Thy hapless love tears from all eyes would draw;
Soon as Adonis ghastly wound She saw,
Soon as his thigh which bath'd in black gore lay,
Spreading her arms She cries, Adonis stay,
Hapless Adonis stay but till I twine
Thee in my arms, and mix my lips with thine;
Adonis wake so short a while, to give
A dying kisse but whilst a kisse may live;
Thy fleeting spirit to my breast bequeath,
And I will suck Loves Nectar in thy breath,
Thy love Ile drink, and in Adonis sted
Will keep that kisse when thou unkinde art fled,
Fled far Adonis, gone to Acheron
To the deaf King, and I left all alone
As Goddess am to follow thee denied.
Take my Spouse Proserpine, thy power's more wide
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Devolves; unhappy Me lost in despair,
Jealous of thee for my Adonis dead!
He's dead, and like a dream our loves are fled.
Venus a widow, Loves are Orphans now,
My Cestus lost with Thee: why huntedst thou?
To cope with beasts thy softness was not made:
Thus Venus mourns whilst Loves her sorrows aid.
Poor Venus thy Adonis murder'd lies!
For every drop of blood he shed, her eyes
Let fall a tear, which earth in flowers bestows,
Tears rais'd th'Anemony and Blood the Rose.
For every drop of blood he shed, her eyes
Let fall a tear, which earth in flowers bestows,
Tears rais'd th'Anemony and Blood the Rose.
Adonis, dead Adonis I deplore;
Venus thy husband wail in woods no more;
A bed, a bed is for Adonis made;
On thy bed Venus is Adonis layd;
Lovely in death, dead lovely as in sleep;
Down gently lay him, in soft coverings keep
His body, wrapt in which he slept with thee
On a guilt bed; unhappy though he be
Neglect him not; 'mongst wreaths let him be laid,
Not any flower but with his life did fade:
In sweet Myrrhe-water wash each softer limb,
The sweetness of all waters dy with him!
In purple winding clothes Adonis lies,
Whilst loves about him weep his obsequies,
And strew him with their hair; His Bow one kicks,
His Shafts another; This his Quiver breaks;
His shooe another looses; That stands by
With a gold Bason, whilst this bathes his thigh;
One sits behind, and fans him with his wings:
Loves weep for Cytherea's sufferings.
The wedding garment Hymen in the porch
Cast quite away, and quench the genial torch:
To Elegies our Hymenæals turn,
We for Adonis, we for Hymen mourn:
The Graces (griev'd for Cynara's fair son)
Adonis, to each other say, is gone:
Lowder then thine (Dione) are their cries;
Adonis, in their songs the destinies
Call back Adonis, but their lure disdain'd
He never minds, by Proserpine detain'd.
Dry thy eyes Venus for to day, and keep
Some tears in store, for thou next yeer must weep.
Venus thy husband wail in woods no more;
A bed, a bed is for Adonis made;
On thy bed Venus is Adonis layd;
Lovely in death, dead lovely as in sleep;
Down gently lay him, in soft coverings keep
His body, wrapt in which he slept with thee
On a guilt bed; unhappy though he be
Neglect him not; 'mongst wreaths let him be laid,
Not any flower but with his life did fade:
In sweet Myrrhe-water wash each softer limb,
The sweetness of all waters dy with him!
In purple winding clothes Adonis lies,
Whilst loves about him weep his obsequies,
And strew him with their hair; His Bow one kicks,
His Shafts another; This his Quiver breaks;
His shooe another looses; That stands by
With a gold Bason, whilst this bathes his thigh;
One sits behind, and fans him with his wings:
Loves weep for Cytherea's sufferings.
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Cast quite away, and quench the genial torch:
To Elegies our Hymenæals turn,
We for Adonis, we for Hymen mourn:
The Graces (griev'd for Cynara's fair son)
Adonis, to each other say, is gone:
Lowder then thine (Dione) are their cries;
Adonis, in their songs the destinies
Call back Adonis, but their lure disdain'd
He never minds, by Proserpine detain'd.
Dry thy eyes Venus for to day, and keep
Some tears in store, for thou next yeer must weep.
| Anacreon | |