Streams from Helicon Or, Poems On Various Subjects. In Three Parts. By Alexander Pennecuik ... The Second Edition. Enter'd in Stationer's Hall |
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 | Streams from Helicon |  |
The radiant Sun, had ta'en his pompous March,
Thro' twice two Houses, of th'ætherial Arch;
Driv'n to the Tropick his triumphant Car,
View'd Scythia's hot and bloody Scenes of War.
Now wheeling's Chariot in the spangled Path,
He puffs at Leo, with his hottest Breath:
Scouring with Speed, thro' this fifth Northern Sign,
He hastes against his Day to make the Line.
In his swift Course, both Light and Heat divides,
Thus from's high Solstice to th'Æquator rides,
Where, th'Ascii lose their Shadows in his Rays,
Melt with the Heat of his Meridian Blaze;
Where's glowing Pencil, limns the Æthiop Black,
And Drought and Heat in their full Vigour act:
This Torrid Zone, is all a burning Coal,
Tho' still they freeze, whose Zenith is the Pole.
His Beams wou'd quickly burn the parched Grains,
Did not the Ev'ning Dews refresh the Plains,
And Noon-day Vapours turn to Mid-night Rains:
Earth's kindly Surface ope's her cooling Poers;
Clear pearly Drops, sit on the Tops o' Flow'rs;
And rising Morn regal with healthful Showrs.
Thro' twice two Houses, of th'ætherial Arch;
Driv'n to the Tropick his triumphant Car,
View'd Scythia's hot and bloody Scenes of War.
Now wheeling's Chariot in the spangled Path,
He puffs at Leo, with his hottest Breath:
Scouring with Speed, thro' this fifth Northern Sign,
He hastes against his Day to make the Line.
In his swift Course, both Light and Heat divides,
Thus from's high Solstice to th'Æquator rides,
Where, th'Ascii lose their Shadows in his Rays,
Melt with the Heat of his Meridian Blaze;
Where's glowing Pencil, limns the Æthiop Black,
And Drought and Heat in their full Vigour act:
This Torrid Zone, is all a burning Coal,
Tho' still they freeze, whose Zenith is the Pole.
2
Did not the Ev'ning Dews refresh the Plains,
And Noon-day Vapours turn to Mid-night Rains:
Earth's kindly Surface ope's her cooling Poers;
Clear pearly Drops, sit on the Tops o' Flow'rs;
And rising Morn regal with healthful Showrs.
Sol's burning Wheels a hot Mid-Summer made,
Swains leave the sunny Braes, for milder Shade;
Soft Nymphs, to flow'ry Arbours, do repair
To be refresh'd, with fanning Zephyres there:
In crystal Streams, they sport the hotter Hours,
Whose gaudy Borders smell of Gilly-Flowers:
Swains leave the sunny Braes, for milder Shade;
Soft Nymphs, to flow'ry Arbours, do repair
To be refresh'd, with fanning Zephyres there:
In crystal Streams, they sport the hotter Hours,
Whose gaudy Borders smell of Gilly-Flowers:
'Twas July in her Pride, when th'Earth looks gay,
More sanguine grow'n than in her youthful May,
To golden fin'ry chang'd her silver Gray.
Her Azure Robes and ruddy Cheeks appear;
The sweetest laughing Month in all the Year:
Nature exerts her utmost at this Time;
Her Youth's run off, and she is in her Prime.
More sanguine grow'n than in her youthful May,
To golden fin'ry chang'd her silver Gray.
Her Azure Robes and ruddy Cheeks appear;
The sweetest laughing Month in all the Year:
Nature exerts her utmost at this Time;
Her Youth's run off, and she is in her Prime.
Hyperions Daughter with her rosy Feet,
Eight Hours and more, had made her dark Retreat
To Titan's watry Couch, where Sea-Gods are,
Usher'd by Lucifer, the Morning-Star.
Long had her Brother Titan burry'd Night,
The Welkin cloathed with Meridian Light;
When bussy Mortals to the Fields resort;
Some to their Labours, others to their Sport.
In Woods are heard the mournful Lovers Cries;
At fair Corrinna's Feet her Damon lies
Off'ring fresh Vows, sent up with ardent Sighs.
Strephon with Nosegays complimenss his Phillis:
Didon in Madrigals his Amaryllis.
Adonis in a Grove t'express his Flame,
Engraves upon a Beech his fair Nymphs Name,
Four magick Letters carves upo' the Tree,
Cloe the Name he gives the charming She:
He thinks each Letter mystery contains,
Such is the Phrensie of the Love-sick Swains:
To make the Draught complete he adds an Heart;
And little Cupid peircing 'twith his Dart.
Eight Hours and more, had made her dark Retreat
To Titan's watry Couch, where Sea-Gods are,
Usher'd by Lucifer, the Morning-Star.
Long had her Brother Titan burry'd Night,
The Welkin cloathed with Meridian Light;
When bussy Mortals to the Fields resort;
Some to their Labours, others to their Sport.
3
At fair Corrinna's Feet her Damon lies
Off'ring fresh Vows, sent up with ardent Sighs.
Strephon with Nosegays complimenss his Phillis:
Didon in Madrigals his Amaryllis.
Adonis in a Grove t'express his Flame,
Engraves upon a Beech his fair Nymphs Name,
Four magick Letters carves upo' the Tree,
Cloe the Name he gives the charming She:
He thinks each Letter mystery contains,
Such is the Phrensie of the Love-sick Swains:
To make the Draught complete he adds an Heart;
And little Cupid peircing 'twith his Dart.
Beneath the Hawthorn Hedge, glader than Kings,
The merry Stroller with his Doxie sings:
With artless Notes, like Chanticlere they crow,
The Song concludes, A begging we will go.
The merry Stroller with his Doxie sings:
With artless Notes, like Chanticlere they crow,
The Song concludes, A begging we will go.
In new shav'd Meadows, all the heat of Day,
Young John and Jenny, wrestle 'mong the Hay
With mutual Pastime, spend their lazy Hours;
She falls beneath him on a Bed o' Flow'rs.
In warm Embraces sinks 'mongst nat'ral Sweets;
A Bed beyond the Down, with Holland Sheets
They tug, and toy, and guzzle; O! they're glad!
She clasps the trim, the yellow-headed Lad.
He tickling, tempts her to the unblest Feast:
Jenny dare not comply, she minds the Priest.
At length, by rude Intruders they are seen;
Jenny scours off, and wants her Gown o' Green.
Then he pursues the Lass he late embrac'd,
Stretching his Arms, to grasp her round the Wast
She gives the Slip; he tumbles down for hast.
A wither'd toothless Hag stands looking on,
Who lov'd the Sport herself, crys, Till her, John:
He jumps to's Feet, and takes a nimbler Race;
Jenny loves to be catched in the Chase.
Holding her fast, he throws her on the Grass,
Lies down himself, and courts his buxom Lass:
Glutting his Eyes with gazing on her Charms,
They chat, and fall asleep in others Arms.
Lyrus lies near the Brook, 'mongst Rows of Ews;
The rhiming Bard their rustick Dalliance views,
Thinks it a proper Subject for his Muse.
Young John and Jenny, wrestle 'mong the Hay
With mutual Pastime, spend their lazy Hours;
She falls beneath him on a Bed o' Flow'rs.
In warm Embraces sinks 'mongst nat'ral Sweets;
A Bed beyond the Down, with Holland Sheets
They tug, and toy, and guzzle; O! they're glad!
She clasps the trim, the yellow-headed Lad.
He tickling, tempts her to the unblest Feast:
Jenny dare not comply, she minds the Priest.
At length, by rude Intruders they are seen;
Jenny scours off, and wants her Gown o' Green.
4
Stretching his Arms, to grasp her round the Wast
She gives the Slip; he tumbles down for hast.
A wither'd toothless Hag stands looking on,
Who lov'd the Sport herself, crys, Till her, John:
He jumps to's Feet, and takes a nimbler Race;
Jenny loves to be catched in the Chase.
Holding her fast, he throws her on the Grass,
Lies down himself, and courts his buxom Lass:
Glutting his Eyes with gazing on her Charms,
They chat, and fall asleep in others Arms.
Lyrus lies near the Brook, 'mongst Rows of Ews;
The rhiming Bard their rustick Dalliance views,
Thinks it a proper Subject for his Muse.
| Streams from Helicon | |