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Bion. Moschvs. Kisses, by Secundus. Cvpid crvcified, by Ausonius. Venvs vigils, Incerto Authore [by Thomas Stanley]

Stanley, Thomas (1625-1678)

MOSCHVS.

II.

III.

Epitaph on Bion the Pastoral Poet.

IV.

Megara and Alcmena.

VI.

VII.

VIII.

SYLVIA'S PARK, by Theophile. ACANTHUS COMPLAINT, by Tristan. ORONTA, by Preti. ECHO, by Marino. LOVES EMBASSY, by Boscan. THE SOLITVDE. by Gongora.

A Platonick Discourse Upon LOVE.

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MOSCHVS.

Love Cried.

Idyll. I.

Her lost son Cupid careful Venus cried;
If any in the streets Love wandring spied,
He is my runaway, to Venus come
And have a kisse; but he that brings him home
Not a meer kisse shall have but further Joyes;
Hee's easie to be known from twenty Boyes;
Fiery, not white is his Complexion; Eyes
Sparkling; fair words his treacherous thoughts disguise.
His Lips and Heart dissent; like Honey sweet
His tongue, in's minde malice and anger meet:
A crafty lying Boy, mischief his play,
Curl'd headed, knavish-look'd; no little way
His hand, though little, can an arrow throw;
To Hell he shoots, and wounds the Powers below.
His body he disrobes, his minde he covers,
And like a swift bird up and down he hovers
From Man to Woman, pearching on the heart:
A little Bow he hath, a little Dart,
Whose nimble flight can pierce the highest sphears,
A golden Quiver at his back he bears,

And poison'd Shafts, with which he doth not spare
Ev'n Me to wound: All cruel, cruel are;
But most his little Torch, which fires the Sun;
Take, bring him bound, nor be to pitty won;
Let not his tears thy easinesse beguile,
Nor let him circumvent thee with a smile;
If he to kisse thee ask, his kisses fly;
Poyson of Asps between his lips doth ly:
If to resigne his weapons he desire,
Touch not, his treacherous Gifts are dipt in fire.

Europa.

II.

A sweet dream Venus once Europa lent,
In nights third quarter, near the morns ascent;
Whilst slumber which her eyelids sweetly crown'd,
Her limbs unti'd, and her eyes softly bound
(That time which doth all truer dreams beget.)
Europa Phœnix-child, a Virgin yet,
Alone in a high chamber taking rest,
Beholds two Countries that for her contest,
The Asian and her opposite; both seem'd
Like women; that a stranger, this esteem'd
A native who (a Mother like) doth plead
That she of her was born, by her was bred;
The other violent hands upon her laid,
And drew by force the unresisting Maid,
Urging she was as prize to Jove design'd:
Out of the bed she starts with troubled minde:

And panting heart; the dream to life's so near:
Long sate she silent; long both women were
After she wak'd presented to her sense,
Till thus at length she breaks her deep suspence.

Which of the Gods as now I did repose,
Perplext my fancy with delusive showes?
My calmer sleeps disquieting with fear:
What Stranger in my slumber did appear?
Her love shot suddenly into my breast
And kindnesse like a Mother she exprest.
The Gods vouchsafe this dream a good event!

She rose and for her lov'd companions sent,
In years and friendship equal nobly born
With them for Balls she us'd her self t'adorn;
Or in Anaurus current baths, with them
She plucks the fragrant Lilly from her stem;
These straight come to her; each a basket held
To gather flowers; so walk they to a field
Neighb'ring to th'Sea, whither they often went
Pleas'd with the Waters noise and Roses scent.

A golden basket fair Europa bare,
Rich yet in Vulcans workmanship more rare,
Which Neptune first to Lybia gave when he
Obtain'd her bed, to Telephassa she
Wife to her son, from Telephassa last
This to unwed' Europe her daughter past
Which many figures neatly wrought did hold.
Inachian Io was here carv'd in gold,
Not yet in Womans shape, but like a Cow,
Who seem'd to swim, and force (enraged) through
The briny Sea her way; the Sea was blew;
Upon the highest point of land to view

The wave-dividing Heifer, two Men stand;
Jove strokes the wet Cow with his sacred hand,
Who unto seven mouth'd Nilus crossing over,
doth cast her horns, and Womans shape recover.
In silver Nilus flood, the Cow in brass,
And Jupiter in gold engraven was;
Mercury's figur'd on the furthest round,
And next him lies distended on the ground
Argos endu'd with many watchful eyes,
Out of whose purple blood a Bird doth rise,
Proud of his various flowry plumes, his tail
He spreadeth like a swift ship under sail,
And comprehends the border with his wings;
Such is the basket fair Europa brings.

All at the painted field arive, where these
With several flowers their several fancies please.
One sweet Narcissus plucks, another gets
Wild Savory, Hyacinths, and Violets,
Many faln spring-born flowers the ground doth share,
Some strive which yellow Crocus fragrant hair
Should faster pluck; i'th' midst the Queen doth stand
Gathering the Roses beauty with her hand;
The Graces so by Venus are out-shin'd.
Nor must she long with flowers divert her mind,
Nor long preserve unstain'd her Virgin zone,
For Jove upon the Meadow looking down,
By Venus subtle darts was struck in love,
Venus hath power to captivate great Jove.
Who of frowr'd Juno's jealousie afraid,
And that he might deceive the tender Maid,
In a Bulls shape his deity doth vail,
Not such as are in stables bred, or trail

The crooked plough the furrow'd earth to wound,
Or run amongst the heards in pasture ground,
Or are to draw the laden Waggon us'd.
Yellow o're all his body is diffus'd,
Save a white circle shines amidst his brow.
His brighter eyes with amorous sparkles glow.
His horns with equal length rise from his head
Like the Moons orb, to half a circle spread.

Into the Mead he comes, nor (seen) doth fright
The Virgins to approach him all delight,
And stroke the lovely Bull, whose divine smell
Doth far the Meads perfumed breath excell:
Before unblam'd Europa's feet he stood
Licking her neck, and the Maid kindly woo'd:
She stroak'd and kiss'd him; and the foam that lay
Upon his lip wip'd with her hand away:
He softly bellow'd, such a humming sound
Forth breathing as Mygdonian Pipes resound.
Down at her feet he kneels viewing the Maid
With writhed neck, and his broad back displai'd,
When she to th'fair-haird Virgins thus doth say;
Come hither dear companions, let us play,
Securely with this Bull, and without fear;
Who like a Ship all on his back will bear.
He tame appears to sight, and gently kind,
Diff'ring from others, a discursive mind
Bearing like Men, and onely voice doth lack.

This said, she smiling gets upon his back;
Which the rest off'ring, the Bull leaps away,
And to the Sea bears his desired prey;
She cals with stretch'd out hands, she turns to view
Her friends, alas unable to pursue;

Down leaps he, Dolphin-like glides through the Seas:
Up from the deep rise the Nereides,
Mounted on Whales to meet her on the way:
Whilst hollow-sounding Neptune doth allay
The waves, and is himself his brothers guide
In this Sea-voyage; Tritons on each side,
(The deeps inhabitants) about him throng,
And sound with their long shels a nuptial song;
She by transformed Jupiter thus born,
With one hand holding fast the Bulls large horn
Her purple garment with the other saves
Unwet by the swoln Oceans froathy waves:
Her mantle (flowing o're her shoulders swell'd
Like a full sail, and the young maid upheld.
Now born away far from her native coast,
Her sight the wave-washt shore and mountains lost
She sees the Heav'ns above, the Seas beneath,
And looking round about these cries doth breath.

O whither sacred Bull? who art thou, say?
That through undreaded floods canst break thy way:
The Seas are pervious to swift ships alone,
But not to Bulls is their fear'd voyage known;
What food is here? or if some God thou be
Why dost what misbeseems a Deity?
Upon the Land no Dolphins, no Bulls move
Upon the Sea; Thou sea and land dost prove
Alike; whose feet like Oares assist thy hast;
Perhaps thou'lt soar through the bright air at last
On high, and like the nimble Birds become.
Me most unhappy, who have left my home,
A Bull to follow, voyages unknown
To undertake, and wander all alone.

But Neptune thou that rul'st the foaming Main
Be pleas'd to help me; sure I shall obtain
A sight of this great God who is my guide,
Nor else could I these fluid paths have tride.

The largely horned Bull thus answer'd; Maid
Be bold, nor of the swelling waves afraid,
For I am Jove who now a Bull appear,
And whatsoever shape I please can wear;
In this to measure the wide Sea constrain'd
For love of thee, thou shalt be entertain'd
By Creet my Nurse; our nuptials shall be there
Perform'd, and thou of me great sons shalt bear,
To whose imperious scepters all shall bow.

What he had said event made good; Creet now
Appears in view; Jove his own form doth take,
And loos'd her zone; the howers their bed did make,
She late a Virgin, Spouse to Jove became,
Brought him forth sons, and gaind a mothers name.

Epitaph on Bion the Pastoral Poet.

III.

Mourn, and your grief ye Groves in soft sighs breath,
Ye Rivers drop in tears, for Bions death:
His losse ye Plants lament, ye Woods bewaile
Ye Flowers your odours with your griefs exhale;
In purple mourn, Anemony and Rose;
Breath Hyacinth that sigh, and more, which grows
Upon thy cheek; the sweet voic'd Singers gone:
Begin Sicilian Muse, begin your mone.

Ye Nightingales that mourn on thickest boughs,
Tell gentle Arethusa's stream which flows
Through Sicily, Bion the Shepherds dead,
And with him Poetry and Musick fled.
Begin Sicilian, &c.

Strimonian Swans vent from your mournful throats
(Gliding upon the waves such dying notes
As heretofore in you the Poet sung;
Tell the Oeagrian, tell the Thracian young
Virgins, the Dorick Orpheus hence is gone;
Begin Sicilian Muse, begin your mone.

He never more shall pipe to his lov'd flock,
Laid underneath some solitary Oak,
But songs of Lethe now, by Pluto taught;
The Hils are dumb; the Heifers that late sought
The Bull lament, and let their meat alone.
Begin Sicilian Muse, begin your mone.

Apollo wept thy death, thy silenc'd reeds
Satyrs Priapusses in mourning weeds
And Fawns bewail: 'mongst woods the Nymphs that dwell
In fountains weep, whose tears to fountains swell;
Eccho 'mongst rocks her silence doth deplore,
Nor words (now thine are stopt) will follow more;
Flowers fade; abortive fruit falls from the trees;
The Ews no Milk, no Honey give the Bees,
But wither'd combs; the sweetness being gone
Of thy lov'd voice, Honey itself hath none.
Begin Sicilian Muse begin your mone.

So Dolphin never wail'd upon the strand;
So never Nightingale on craggy land;
So never Swallow on the mountains mourn'd;
Nor Halcyons sorrows Ceyx so return'd.
Begin Sicilian, &c.

So Cerylus on blew waves never sung;
In Eastern vales, the bird from Memnon sprung
Aurora's son so mourn'd not, hovering o're
His Sepulcher, as Bion they deplore.
Begin Sicilian, &c.

Swallows and Nightingales, whom he to please
Once taught to sing, now sitting on high trees
Sing forth their grief in parts, the rest reply,
And Doves with murmuring keep them company.
Begin Sicilian, &c.

Who now can use thy Pipe, or dare betray
Such boldness to thy Reeds his lips to lay?
They yet are by thy lips and breath inspir'd,
And Eccho thence hath harmony acquir'd;
Pan keeps thy Pipe, but will its use decline,
Fearing to prove his own skill short of thine.
Begin Sicilian, &c.

Thee Galathea wails, whom heretofore
Thy songs delighted sitting on the shore:
The Cyclop sung not so; She through the Sea
(Though him she fled) darred kind looks at Thee;
And now in desert sands she sits, the deep
Forsaking quite, and doth thy Oxen keep.
Begin Sicilian, &c.

With thee (lov'd Swain) dy all the Muses joyes,
The kisses of young Maids and amorous Boyes;
The Cupids weep about thy Sepulcher;
Thee Venus did beyond the kisse prefer
Which from Adonis dying she receiv'd.
Thou hast new cause great River to be griev'd,
New sorrow Melus: Homer first by death
Was seiz'd (Calliopes harmonious breath)
Then thy fair Son thy troubled waves deplor'd,
And over all the Sea their current roar'd;
Thou now must languish for another Son:
Both Fountains lov'd; the Pegasæan One,
The other courted Arethusa's spring:
One did of Tyndarus fair Daughter sing,
Thetis great Son, and Menelaus wrong;
Nor wars nor tears, Pan was the others song,
And Shepherds: As he sung he us'd to feed
His flock, milk Cows, or carve an oaten reed,
Taught the Youth courtship, in his bosom love
He nurs'd, and Venus onely did approve.
Begin Sicilian, &c.

Thy death each City every Town resents;
Above her Hesiod Ascra thee laments;
Lesse Pindar by Boetian woods is lov'd;
Lesse with Alcæus fate was Lesbus mov'd;

Their Poets losse lesse griev'd the Ceian town;
Parus lesse love t'Archilochus hath shown;
Thy verse 'bove Sapphos Mytilene admires;
All whom th'indulgence of the Muses fires
With pastoral heat, bewail thy sad decease;
The Samian glory mourns, Sicelides;
Amongst Cydonians (whose late mirth their pride)
Licidas weeps; his grief by Hales tide
Philetas, 'mongst Triopians, doth diffuse,
Theocritus 'mongst those of Syracuse;
And with Ausonian grief my verse is fraught;
Such thy own Scholers by thy self were taught,
Who as thy heirs claim Dorik poesie;
Thy wealth to others, verse thou left'st to me.
Begin Sicilian, &c.

Alas though time the garden Mallows kill,
The verdant Smallage and the flowry Dill,
Yet these revive, and new the next year rise;
But Man, though ne're so great, so strong, so wise,
Once dead, inclos'd in hollow earth must keep
A long, obscure, inexcitable sleep.
And thou art thus laid silent in the ground;
For thy sweet voice we onely hear the sound
Of the hoarse Frogs unintermitted grone.
Begin Sicilian Muse, begin your mone.

Cam'st thou by Poyson Bion to thy death?
Scapt that the Antidote of thy sweet breath?
What cruel Man to thee could poyson bear?
Against thy musick sure he stopt his ear.
Begin Sicilian, &c.

But a just vengeance is reserv'd for all;
Mean time, with others, I bewail thy fall,

Might I like Orpheus view the states below,
And like Alcides, or Ulisses go
To Pluto's court, I would enquire if there
To him thou singst, & what thou singst would hear;
Court Her with some Sicilian past'ral strain,
Who sporting on Sicilian Ætna's plain
Sung Dorik laies; thine may successful be,
And as once Orpheus brought Euridice
Thee back perphaps they to these hills may bring,
Had I such skill to Pluto I would sing.

Megara and Alcmena.

IV.

Why these afflictions (Mother) dost thou seek?
Thy fresh complexion hath forsook thy cheek;
Why do thy sorrows past all limits run?
Is't, that a worthlesse Man thy worthy son
Oppresseth, as a Lion stoops t'a Hind?
Alass why was I by the Gods design'd,
by parents why begot to such hard fate?
I met in marriage with a noble Mate,
One whom as deer as my own eyes I deem'd,
And still is by my soul no less esteem'd;
But through like miseries none ever past,
Nor did as he so bitter sorrows tast:
Who with a fatal Bow by Phœbus sent,
And arrows by some cursed Fury lent,
The lives of his dear children did divide,
His hands in blood, his soul in fury di'de;
These by their Father slain I saw, a deed,
Had I not view'd it, would belief exceed:
Nor could I, though call'd often, lend them aid,
Whom death inevitable did invade:
As a Bird mourns that sees her young distrest,
And ready to be swallow'd in the nest
By some fell Snake, the pious old One over
Their heads (alass in vain) doth shrieking hover;
Help she is able to afford them none,
And to come neer, their danger were her own;

So hapless Mother, up and down I went
Enrag'd, and my dear children did lament;
Would I had kept them company in death,
And by a poison'd arrow lost my breath
From vext Diana, who our Sex commands!
With tears and funeral rites, then the dear hands
Of parents in one Pyre had help'd to burn,
And all our bones clos'd in one golden Urn;
Our birth and burial owing to one place;
They're now at Thebes, fam'd for a generous race
Of steeds; or fat grounds of Aonia plow;
Whilst I in Tyrins Juno's City bow
Beneath the weight of an unbounded grief,
Nor intermission gives my tears relief:
My husband I so little see at home;
So many labours must he overcome;
Great toyls by Sea and Land hath he outgrown;
The manly heart his breast contains of stone,
Or steel is fram'd: Thou melt'st in tears away,
And by thy sorrows count'st each night and day:
Yet other friend for comfort have I none,
To remote countries all the rest are gone,
Their seats beyond the wooddy Isthmus ly;
Nor yet of them knew I to whom to fly,
To ease the passion of my troubled breast,
Except my sister Pyrrha, who's opprest
With the same grief for Iphiclus thy son
Her husband through like toils thy children run,
Though one a God begot, t'other a Man.

This said, down her soft cheeks & white brest ran
A stream of tears, which her fair eyes let fall
When sons and parents she to mind did call:

Nor lesse Alcmena did bedew her cheek,
And with a deep-fetcht sigh she first did break
Way for her words; then to her daughter said,

Crost in thy children, what sad thoughts invade
Thy soul! why griev'st us both with the review
Of troubles past? these sorrows are not new.
Each day with such fresh cause our grief supplies,
That he must be well verst in miseries
Whose skill should undertake to sum up ours:
But droop not daughter, these the heavenly powers
Sent not; thy lively spirit grief destroyes,
Nor can I blame; even joy excessive cloyes:
Yet thy misfortunes I commiserate,
Make a sad partner in the hapless fate
Which on my wretched head threatens to fall;
I Proserpine and neat-vail'd Ceres call
To witness, who on perjur'd souls severe
Vengeance inflict, thou art to me as dear
As if thou hadst thy being from my wombe,
And I had bred thee of a childe at home:
I know lov'd daughter thou believ'st no less;
Think me not unconcern'd in thy distress:
No, should I fair-hair'd Niobe out-weep,
A Mother justly for a Son may keep
Her griefs awake; him ten long moneths before
I ever saw near to my heart I bore:
To Pluto's gates he almost brought me, pain
So great I in my labour did sustain.
But now he's gone away, more proofs to show
Of valour, whilst unhappy I not know
If him these arms shall evermore inclose.
Besides a strange dream broke my sweet repose;

Me thought that Hercules my Son did stand
Before me with a Pickax in his hand;
(As being hir'd to compass with a ditch
A fruitful field by various flowers made rich)
Naked, his Lions skin aside was laid;
At last of all his task an end he made,
And had enclos'd the Meadow with a mound,
Then stuck his iron Pickax in the ground,
When as he went to put his mantle on,
Out of the earth a sudden lightning shone,
And round about him flasht a dreadful fire,
But with a leap he nimbly did retire,
The active flame endeav'ring to evade,
And shield-like 'gainst its rage oppos'd his Spade,
Whilst round about he rowls his sparkling eyes
To shun on every side the fires surprise;
Straight (as I thought) did to his aid appear
Stout Iphiclus, but ere he could come near
Down falls he, and unable to arise,
As a decrepid old man helpless lyes,
Whom his declining years to fall compell,
And keep him with their weight down where he fell,
Till help'd up by some passenger that bears
Respect to his weak age and silver hairs,
So tumbled warlike Iphiclus, whilst I
Wept to behold my children helpless ly;
Till from my eyelids sleep were chac'd away,
Aurora then arose to bring in day.
With such illusions was my sleep all night
Disturb'd, but on Euristheus may they light,
Diverted from our house; to my desire
With these prophetick dreams just fate conspire.

V. [When still winds gently creep ore the blue Main]

When still winds gently creep ore the blue Main,
The calm allures me to the liquid plain;
And less the Muses, then the Sea invite;
But when the billows roar, when they grow white
With breaking one another, and swell high,
To land and trees back from the Sea I fly:
Then trees, and safer land best please my mind;
Where tall Pines sing, inspired by the wind;
A dangerous life a Fisher leads! to float
For so small purchase in his house a boat;
Me sleep in shades by purling streams delights,
Whose noise the labourer pleaseth, not affrights.

VI. [Pan neighb'ring Eccho lov'd; Eccho desir'd]

Pan neighb'ring Eccho lov'd; Eccho desir'd
Brisk Satyrus, Satyrus Lyda fir'd;
As Eccho Pan, Sa'trus did Eccho wound,
And Lyda Satyrus, so love went round:
As each did scorn for others love return,
So justice paid their love with others scorn;
Mark this disdainful Lover; would'st thou be
Belov'd of those thou lov'st? love who love thee.

VII. [Vesper, belov'd Cythera's golden light]

Vesper , belov'd Cythera's golden light;
Vesper, the sacred joy of Azure Night;
Thou other Stars out-shin'st, as Cynthia Thee;
Hail dearly welcome! come along with me,
And with thy light our past'ral sports befriend;
The Moon scarce up went down; I not intend
To rob; no Travellours shall of me complain;
I love and lovers should be lov'd again.

VIII. [From Pisa cross the Sea Alpheus straies]

From Pisa cross the Sea Alpheus straies,
And with his Olive-fertile stream conveyes
To Arethuse leaves, sacred ashes, flowers,
Which headlong into hers his current poures:
Under the Sea flowes his unmingled Tide,
Nor knows the Sea what waves beneath him glide;
Thus Love, that little Tyrant, can direct
Rivers to swim to those whom they affect.

Cupid Plowing.

Epigram.

Laying aside his Bow and Torch, a Whip
Severe Love took, and at his side a Scrip;
Then on the patient Oxen doth impose
A Yoak, and in the fertile Furrow sows:
And looking up, good weather Jove, or Thou
(Saith he) Europa's Bull shalt draw my plow.