 | The Works of Mr. John Oldham |  |
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Virg. ECLOGUE VIII.
The Enchantment.
Poet, Damon, Alpheus, Speakers.
Damon
and Alpheus, the two Shepherds Strains
I mean to tell, and how they charm'd the Plains.
I'll tell their charming Numbers which the Herd,
Unmindful of their Grass, in Throngs admir'd.
At which fierce Savages astonish'd stood,
And every River stopt its list'ning Flood.
I mean to tell, and how they charm'd the Plains.
I'll tell their charming Numbers which the Herd,
Unmindful of their Grass, in Throngs admir'd.
At which fierce Savages astonish'd stood,
And every River stopt its list'ning Flood.
For you, Great Sir, whether with Cannons Roar
You spread your Terror to the Holland Shore,
Or with a gentle and a steady Hand
In Peace and Plenty rule your Native Land.
Shall ever that auspicious Day appear,
When I your glorious Actions shall declare?
It shall, and I throughout the World rehearse
Their Fame, fit only for a Spencer's Verse.
With you my Muse began, with you shall end:
Accept my Verse that waits on your Command;
And deign this Ivy Wreath a place may find
Amongst the Laurels which your Temples bind.
You spread your Terror to the Holland Shore,
Or with a gentle and a steady Hand
In Peace and Plenty rule your Native Land.
Shall ever that auspicious Day appear,
When I your glorious Actions shall declare?
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Their Fame, fit only for a Spencer's Verse.
With you my Muse began, with you shall end:
Accept my Verse that waits on your Command;
And deign this Ivy Wreath a place may find
Amongst the Laurels which your Temples bind.
'Twas at the time that Night's cool shades withdrew,
And left the Grass all hung with Pearly Dew;
When Damon, leaning on his Oaken Wand,
Thus to his Pipe in gentle Lays complain'd.
D.
And left the Grass all hung with Pearly Dew;
When Damon, leaning on his Oaken Wand,
Thus to his Pipe in gentle Lays complain'd.
Arise, thou Morning, and drive on the Day,
While wretched I with fruitless words inveigh
Against false Nisa, while the Gods I call
With my last Breath, tho' hopeless to avail,
Tho' they regard not my Complaints at all.
Strike up my Pipe, play me in tuneful Strains
What I heard sung on the Mænalian Plains.
What I heard sung on the Mænalian Plains.
Mænalus ever has its warbling Groves,
And talking Pines, it ever hears the Loves
Of Shepherds, and the Notes of Mighty Pan,
The first that would not let the Reeds untun'd remain.
And talking Pines, it ever hears the Loves
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The first that would not let the Reeds untun'd remain.
Strike up my Pipe, play me in tuneful Strains
What I heard sung on the Mænalian Plains.
What I heard sung on the Mænalian Plains.
Mopsus weds Nisa, Gods! what Lover e'er
Need after this have reason to despair?
Griffins shall now leap Mares, and the next Age
The Deer and Hounds in Friendship shall engage.
Go, Mopsus, get the Torches ready soon;
Thou, happy Man, must have the Bride anon.
Go, Bridegroom, quickly, the Nut-scramble make,
The Evening-star quits Oeta for thy sake.
Need after this have reason to despair?
Griffins shall now leap Mares, and the next Age
The Deer and Hounds in Friendship shall engage.
Go, Mopsus, get the Torches ready soon;
Thou, happy Man, must have the Bride anon.
Go, Bridegroom, quickly, the Nut-scramble make,
The Evening-star quits Oeta for thy sake.
Strike up my Pipe, play me in tuneful Strains
What I heard sung on the Mænalian Plains.
What I heard sung on the Mænalian Plains.
How fitly art thou match'd who wast so nice!
Thou haughty Nymph who did'st all else despise!
Who slight'st so scornfully my Pipe, my Herd,
My rough-grown Eye-brows, and unshaven Beard,
And think'st no God does mortal things regard.
Thou haughty Nymph who did'st all else despise!
Who slight'st so scornfully my Pipe, my Herd,
My rough-grown Eye-brows, and unshaven Beard,
And think'st no God does mortal things regard.
Strike up my Pipe, play me in tuneful Strains
What I heard sung on the Mænalian Plains.
What I heard sung on the Mænalian Plains.
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I saw thee young, and in thy Beauty's Bloom,
To gather Apples with thy Mother, come,
'Twas in our Hedge-rows, I was there with Pride,
To shew you to the best, and be your Guide.
Then I just entring my twelfth Year was found,
I then could reach the tender Boughs from Ground.
Heav'ns! when I saw, how soon was I undone!
How to my Heart did the quick Poyson run!
To gather Apples with thy Mother, come,
'Twas in our Hedge-rows, I was there with Pride,
To shew you to the best, and be your Guide.
Then I just entring my twelfth Year was found,
I then could reach the tender Boughs from Ground.
Heav'ns! when I saw, how soon was I undone!
How to my Heart did the quick Poyson run!
Strike up my Pipe, play me in tuneful Strains
What I heard sung on the Mænalian Plains.
What I heard sung on the Mænalian Plains.
Now I'm convinc'd what Love is; the cold North
Sure in its craggy Mountains brought him forth,
Or Africk's wildest Desarts gave him Birth,
Amongst the Cannibals and Savage Race;
He never of our Kind, or Countrey was.
Sure in its craggy Mountains brought him forth,
Or Africk's wildest Desarts gave him Birth,
Amongst the Cannibals and Savage Race;
He never of our Kind, or Countrey was.
Strike up my Pipe, play me in tuneful Strains
What I heard sung on the Mænalian Plains.
What I heard sung on the Mænalian Plains.
Dire Love did once a Mother's Hand embrue
In Childrens Blood; a cruel Mother, thou;
Hard 'tis to say of both which is the worst,
The cruel Mother, or the Boy accurst.
He a curst Boy, a cruel Mother thou;
The Devil a whit to chuse betwixt the two.
In Childrens Blood; a cruel Mother, thou;
Hard 'tis to say of both which is the worst,
The cruel Mother, or the Boy accurst.
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The Devil a whit to chuse betwixt the two.
Strike up my Pipe, play me in tuneful Strains
What I heard sung on the Mænalian Plains.
What I heard sung on the Mænalian Plains.
Let Wolves by Nature shun the Sheep-folds now:
On the rough Oaks let Oranges now grow:
Let the coarse Alders bear the Daffadill,
And costly Amber from the Thorn distill:
Let Owls match Swans, let Tyt'rus Orpheus be,
In the Woods Orpheus, and Arion on the Sea.
On the rough Oaks let Oranges now grow:
Let the coarse Alders bear the Daffadill,
And costly Amber from the Thorn distill:
Let Owls match Swans, let Tyt'rus Orpheus be,
In the Woods Orpheus, and Arion on the Sea.
Strike up my Pipe, play me in tuneful Strains
What I heard sung on the Mænalian Plains.
What I heard sung on the Mænalian Plains.
Let all the World turn Sea, ye Woods adieu!
To some high Mountain's top I'll get me now,
And thence my self into the Waters throw.
There quench my Flames, and let the cruel She
Accept this my last dying Will and Legacy.
To some high Mountain's top I'll get me now,
And thence my self into the Waters throw.
There quench my Flames, and let the cruel She
Accept this my last dying Will and Legacy.
Cease now my Pipe, cease now those warbling Strains
Which I heard sung on the Mænalian Plains.
Which I heard sung on the Mænalian Plains.
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This Damon's Song; relate ye Muses now
Alpheus Reply: All cannot all things do.
A.
Alpheus Reply: All cannot all things do.
Bring Holy Water, sprinkle all around,
And see these Altars with soft Fillets bound:
Male-Frankincense, and juicy Vervain burn,
I'll try if I by Magick Force can turn
My stubborn Love: I'll try if I can fire
His frozen Breast: Nothing but Charms are wanting here.
Bring Daphnis from the Town, ye Magick Charms;
Bring home lov'd Daphnis to my longing Arms.
Bring home lov'd Daphnis to my longing Arms.
Charms in her wonted Course can stop the Moon,
And from her well-fix'd Orb can call her down.
By Charms the mighty Circe (we are told)
Ulysses fam'd Companions chang'd of old.
Snakes by the Vertue of Enchantment forc'd,
Oft in the Meads with their own Poyson burst.
And from her well-fix'd Orb can call her down.
By Charms the mighty Circe (we are told)
Ulysses fam'd Companions chang'd of old.
Snakes by the Vertue of Enchantment forc'd,
Oft in the Meads with their own Poyson burst.
Bring Daphnis from the Town, ye Magick Charms,
Bring home lov'd Daphnis to my longing Arms.
Bring home lov'd Daphnis to my longing Arms.
First, these three several Threads I compass round
Thy Image, thus in Magick Fetters bound:
Then round these Altars thrice thy Image bear:
Odd Numbers to the Gods delightful are.
Thy Image, thus in Magick Fetters bound:
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Odd Numbers to the Gods delightful are.
Bring Daphnis from the Town, ye Magick Charms,
Bring home lov'd Daphnis to my longing Arms.
Bring home lov'd Daphnis to my longing Arms.
Go tie me in three knots three Ribands now,
And let the Ribands be of diffrent Hue:
Go, Amaryllis, tie them strait, and cry,
At the same time, “They're true-love-knots, I tie.
And let the Ribands be of diffrent Hue:
Go, Amaryllis, tie them strait, and cry,
At the same time, “They're true-love-knots, I tie.
Bring Daphnis from the Town, ye Magick Charms,
Bring home lov'd Daphnis to my longing Arms.
Bring home lov'd Daphnis to my longing Arms.
Look how this Clay grows harder, and look how
With the same Fire this Wax doth softer grow;
So Daphnis, let him with my Love do so.
Strow Meal and Salt (for so these Rites require)
And set the crackling Laurel Boughs on fire:
This naughty Daphnis sets my Brest on flame,
And I this Laurel burn in Daphnis's Name.
With the same Fire this Wax doth softer grow;
So Daphnis, let him with my Love do so.
Strow Meal and Salt (for so these Rites require)
And set the crackling Laurel Boughs on fire:
This naughty Daphnis sets my Brest on flame,
And I this Laurel burn in Daphnis's Name.
Bring Daphnis from the Town, ye Magick Charms,
Bring home lov'd Daphnis to my longing Arms.
Bring home lov'd Daphnis to my longing Arms.
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As a poor Heifer, wearied in the Chase,
Of seeking her lov'd Steer from place to place.
Through Woods, through Groves, through Arable, and Wast,
On some green River's bank lies down at last.
There Lows her Moan, despairing, and forlorn,
And, tho' belated, minds not to return:
Let Daphnis's Case be such, and let not me
Take any care to give a Remedy.
Of seeking her lov'd Steer from place to place.
Through Woods, through Groves, through Arable, and Wast,
On some green River's bank lies down at last.
There Lows her Moan, despairing, and forlorn,
And, tho' belated, minds not to return:
Let Daphnis's Case be such, and let not me
Take any care to give a Remedy.
Bring Daphnis from the Town, ye magick Charms,
Bring home lov'd Daphnis to my longing Arms.
Bring home lov'd Daphnis to my longing Arms.
These Garments erst the faithless Traitour left,
Dear Pledges of his Love, of which I'me reft:
Beneath the Threshold these I bury now,
In thee, O Earth; these Pledges Daphnis owe.
Dear Pledges of his Love, of which I'me reft:
Beneath the Threshold these I bury now,
In thee, O Earth; these Pledges Daphnis owe.
Bring Daphnis from the Town, ye Magick Charms,
Bring home lov'd Daphnis to my longing Arms.
Bring home lov'd Daphnis to my longing Arms.
Of Mæris I these Herbs and Poysons had,
From Pontus brought: in Pontus store are bred:
With these I've oft seen Mæris Wonders do,
Turn himself Wolf, and to the Forest go:
I've often seen him Fields of Corn displace,
From whence they grew, and Ghosts in Church-yards raise.
From Pontus brought: in Pontus store are bred:
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Turn himself Wolf, and to the Forest go:
I've often seen him Fields of Corn displace,
From whence they grew, and Ghosts in Church-yards raise.
Bring Daphnis from the Town, ye Magick Charms,
Bring home lov'd Daphnis to my longing Arms.
Bring home lov'd Daphnis to my longing Arms.
Go, Maid, go, bear the Ashes out at door,
And then forthwith into the neighb'ring current pour,
Over thy Head, and don't look back be sure:
I'll try, what these on Daphnis will prevail,
The Gods he minds not, nor my Charms at all.
And then forthwith into the neighb'ring current pour,
Over thy Head, and don't look back be sure:
I'll try, what these on Daphnis will prevail,
The Gods he minds not, nor my Charms at all.
Bring Daphnis from the Town, ye Magick Charms,
Bring home lov'd Daphnis to my longing Arms.
Bring home lov'd Daphnis to my longing Arms.
Behold! the Ashes while we lingring stay,
While we neglect to carry them away,
Have reach'd the Altar, and have fir'd the Wood,
That lyes upon't: Heav'n send it be for good!
Something I know not what's the matter: Hark!
I hear our Lightfoot in the Entry bark,
Shall I believe, or is it only Dream,
Which Lovers fancies are too apt to frame?
While we neglect to carry them away,
Have reach'd the Altar, and have fir'd the Wood,
That lyes upon't: Heav'n send it be for good!
Something I know not what's the matter: Hark!
I hear our Lightfoot in the Entry bark,
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Which Lovers fancies are too apt to frame?
Cease now ye Magick Charms, behold him come!
Cease needless Charms, my Daphnis is at home!
Cease needless Charms, my Daphnis is at home!
| The Works of Mr. John Oldham | |