Fovre bookes of Du Bartas I. The Arke, II. Babylon, III. The Colonnyes, IIII. The Columues or Pyllars: In French and English, for the Instrvction and Pleasvre of Svch as Delight in Both Langvages. By William Lisle ... Together with a large Commentary by S. G. S |
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So man may say; for loe, what desert so vntrad,
What hill so wilde and waste? what Region so bad?
Or what so wrackfull sea? or what so barren shore
From North to South appeares, but payes him euermore
Some kind of yearely rent, and grudging not his glory
Vnto his happy life becomes contributory?
What hill so wilde and waste? what Region so bad?
Or what so wrackfull sea? or what so barren shore
From North to South appeares, but payes him euermore
Some kind of yearely rent, and grudging not his glory
Vnto his happy life becomes contributory?
These moores enamelled where many purling brooks
Enchase their winding wayes with glassie-wauing crooks,
They stand for garden plots; their herbage, ere it fades,
Twise yearely sets on worke our swapping two-hand blades.
The plaine field Ceres holds, the stonie Bacchus fills;
These ladders of the skie, the rough-aspiring hills,
The store-houses of stormes, and forging-shops of thunders,
(Which thou vntruly call'st th'erths faults & shamfull wonders,
And thinkst the liuing God (to say't I am aferd)
Created them of spight, or in creating err'd)
They bound the kingdoms out with euer-standing marks,
And for our shipping beare of timber goodly parks:
The same afford thee stuffe to build thy sumptuous Hold;
The same in winter-time defend thee from the cold:
They pow'r-out day and night the deep-enchaneld riuers,
Which breed & beare on them to feed the neighbour-liuers:
They oft manure the lands with fruitfull clouds and showers,
They helpe the mylls to turne, and stand instead of towers
And bulwarks to keepe-off Bellona's dreery stound,
They morter to the sea the mid-point of the ground.
The wasternesse of land, that men so much amazeth,
Is like a common field where store of cattell grazeth,
And whence by thousand heads they come our tylth t'enrood,
To furnish vs with furre, with leather, wooll and food.
The Sea it selfe, that seemes for nothing else to sarue
But eu'n to drowne the world (although it neuer swarue)
That roaring ouer-heales so many a mightie land,
Where, in the waters stead, much wauing corne might stand;
A mightie Stew it is, or vnd'r a watry plaine
Flocks numberlesse it feeds, to feed mankind againe.
For of the Cates thereof are thousand Cities saru'd,
Which could not otherwise but languish hunger-staru'd,
As doth a Dolphin whom vpon the shore halfe-dead
The tide vntrustie left, when backe againe it fled:
It shorter makes the wayes, increases marchandise;
And causes day and night the reaking mysts arise,
That still refresh our ayre, and downe in water flowing,
Set, eu'n before our eyes, the graynie pipe a growing.
Enchase their winding wayes with glassie-wauing crooks,
They stand for garden plots; their herbage, ere it fades,
Twise yearely sets on worke our swapping two-hand blades.
The plaine field Ceres holds, the stonie Bacchus fills;
These ladders of the skie, the rough-aspiring hills,
The store-houses of stormes, and forging-shops of thunders,
(Which thou vntruly call'st th'erths faults & shamfull wonders,
And thinkst the liuing God (to say't I am aferd)
Created them of spight, or in creating err'd)
They bound the kingdoms out with euer-standing marks,
And for our shipping beare of timber goodly parks:
The same afford thee stuffe to build thy sumptuous Hold;
The same in winter-time defend thee from the cold:
They pow'r-out day and night the deep-enchaneld riuers,
Which breed & beare on them to feed the neighbour-liuers:
They oft manure the lands with fruitfull clouds and showers,
They helpe the mylls to turne, and stand instead of towers
132
They morter to the sea the mid-point of the ground.
The wasternesse of land, that men so much amazeth,
Is like a common field where store of cattell grazeth,
And whence by thousand heads they come our tylth t'enrood,
To furnish vs with furre, with leather, wooll and food.
The Sea it selfe, that seemes for nothing else to sarue
But eu'n to drowne the world (although it neuer swarue)
That roaring ouer-heales so many a mightie land,
Where, in the waters stead, much wauing corne might stand;
A mightie Stew it is, or vnd'r a watry plaine
Flocks numberlesse it feeds, to feed mankind againe.
For of the Cates thereof are thousand Cities saru'd,
Which could not otherwise but languish hunger-staru'd,
As doth a Dolphin whom vpon the shore halfe-dead
The tide vntrustie left, when backe againe it fled:
It shorter makes the wayes, increases marchandise;
And causes day and night the reaking mysts arise,
That still refresh our ayre, and downe in water flowing,
Set, eu'n before our eyes, the graynie pipe a growing.
But shall I still be rost with Boreas boysterous puffs?
Still subiect to the rage of Nere's counterbuffs?
And shall I neuer see my country-chimnies reake?
Alas, I row no more, my boat begins to leake:
I am vndone, I am, except some gentle banke
Receiue, and that with speed, this wrack-reserued planke.
O France, I ken thy shore; thou reachest me thine arme;
Thou op'nest wide thy lap to shend thy sonne from harme:
Nor wilt I end my dayes from home so many a mile,
Nor o're my bones triumph the Caniball Bresile,
Nor Catay o're my fame, nor Peru o're my verse;
As thou my cradle wert, so wilt thou be mine herse.
O thousand thousand times most happy land of price,
O Europes only pearle, and earthly paradise!
All-haile renowmed France: from thee sprong many a knight,
Which hath in former time his flag of triumph pight
Vpon Euphrates banks, and blood with Bylboe shed
Both at the suns vprist, and where he goes to bed.
Thou breedest many men which happy and boldly dare
In works of handy-trade with Nature selfe compare:
And many wits that seeke out all the skill diuine
From Egypt, Greece and Rome, and o're the learned shine
As o're the paler hewes doe glister golden yellowes,
The Sun aboue the star's, thy flow'r aboue the fellowes.
Still subiect to the rage of Nere's counterbuffs?
And shall I neuer see my country-chimnies reake?
Alas, I row no more, my boat begins to leake:
I am vndone, I am, except some gentle banke
Receiue, and that with speed, this wrack-reserued planke.
O France, I ken thy shore; thou reachest me thine arme;
Thou op'nest wide thy lap to shend thy sonne from harme:
Nor wilt I end my dayes from home so many a mile,
Nor o're my bones triumph the Caniball Bresile,
Nor Catay o're my fame, nor Peru o're my verse;
As thou my cradle wert, so wilt thou be mine herse.
O thousand thousand times most happy land of price,
O Europes only pearle, and earthly paradise!
All-haile renowmed France: from thee sprong many a knight,
Which hath in former time his flag of triumph pight
Vpon Euphrates banks, and blood with Bylboe shed
133
Thou breedest many men which happy and boldly dare
In works of handy-trade with Nature selfe compare:
And many wits that seeke out all the skill diuine
From Egypt, Greece and Rome, and o're the learned shine
As o're the paler hewes doe glister golden yellowes,
The Sun aboue the star's, thy flow'r aboue the fellowes.
Thy riuers are like Seas; thy Cities prouinces,
In building full of state, and gentle in vsages;
Thine ayre is temperate, thy soile yeelds good increase,
Thou hast for thy defence two mountaines and two seas:
Th'Egyptian Crocodile disquiets not thy banks,
Th'infectious kind of Snakes with poyson-spotted flanks
Ne crawle not burst-in-plights vpon thy flowrie plaines,
Nor mete an ak'r of ground by length of dragling traines:
No Hircan Tygers flight boot-hailes thy vaulted hills,
Nor on thy scorched wasts th'Arcadian Lion kills
Thy wandring habitants; nor Cayrick water-horses
Drag vnd'r vncertaine tombe thy childers tender corses;
And though like Indie streames, thy fairest riuers driue not
Among their pebbles gold, although thy mountains riue not
With veines of siluer Ore, nor yet among thy greet
Carbuncles, Granats, Pearles, lie scattred at our feet;
Thy cloth, thy wooll, thy woad, thy salt, thy corne, thy wines,
(More necessarie fruits) are all sufficient mines,
T'entitle thee the queene of all this earthie scope:
Thy want is only peace. O God that holdest ope
Alwaies thine eyes on vs, we humbly thee desire
Quench with thy mercy-drops the France-deuouring fire:
O calme our stormous ayre; Deere Fath'r vs all deliuer,
And put thine angers shafts againe into thy quiuer.
In building full of state, and gentle in vsages;
Thine ayre is temperate, thy soile yeelds good increase,
Thou hast for thy defence two mountaines and two seas:
Th'Egyptian Crocodile disquiets not thy banks,
Th'infectious kind of Snakes with poyson-spotted flanks
Ne crawle not burst-in-plights vpon thy flowrie plaines,
Nor mete an ak'r of ground by length of dragling traines:
No Hircan Tygers flight boot-hailes thy vaulted hills,
Nor on thy scorched wasts th'Arcadian Lion kills
Thy wandring habitants; nor Cayrick water-horses
Drag vnd'r vncertaine tombe thy childers tender corses;
And though like Indie streames, thy fairest riuers driue not
Among their pebbles gold, although thy mountains riue not
With veines of siluer Ore, nor yet among thy greet
Carbuncles, Granats, Pearles, lie scattred at our feet;
Thy cloth, thy wooll, thy woad, thy salt, thy corne, thy wines,
(More necessarie fruits) are all sufficient mines,
T'entitle thee the queene of all this earthie scope:
Thy want is only peace. O God that holdest ope
Alwaies thine eyes on vs, we humbly thee desire
Quench with thy mercy-drops the France-deuouring fire:
O calme our stormous ayre; Deere Fath'r vs all deliuer,
And put thine angers shafts againe into thy quiuer.
| Fovre bookes of Du Bartas | |