Poems on Several Occasions By Edward, Lord Thurlow. The Second Edition, considerably enlarged |
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A SONG TO SIR PHILIP SIDNEY. |
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 | Poems on Several Occasions |  |
11
A SONG TO SIR PHILIP SIDNEY.
Spirit, whose bliss beyond this cloudy sphere
Is with the rising, and the setting light,
Who, far remov'd from all that grieves us here,
For ever happy, and for ever bright,
Yet lookest down with pity from on high,
'Midst airs of immortality:
O, with what pure and never-ending song,
Song, that uplift upon the wings of love,
May gain access to that celestial throng,
Shall I now soar above,
And in the silver flood of morning play,
And view thy face, and brighten into day?
Is with the rising, and the setting light,
Who, far remov'd from all that grieves us here,
For ever happy, and for ever bright,
Yet lookest down with pity from on high,
'Midst airs of immortality:
O, with what pure and never-ending song,
Song, that uplift upon the wings of love,
May gain access to that celestial throng,
Shall I now soar above,
And in the silver flood of morning play,
And view thy face, and brighten into day?
Forgive me, then, O love-enlarged soul,
Or love itself in pure felicity,
If, questioning my nature's fast controul,
I slip my bonds, and wander unto thee;
But, ah! too well I know
That this may not be so,
'Till that prefixed doom from heav'n be spent:
Then for a little while,
If measure may beguile,
Let thy sweet deeds become my argument;
That all the wide hereafter may behold
Thy mind, more perfect than refined gold.
Or love itself in pure felicity,
12
I slip my bonds, and wander unto thee;
But, ah! too well I know
That this may not be so,
'Till that prefixed doom from heav'n be spent:
Then for a little while,
If measure may beguile,
Let thy sweet deeds become my argument;
That all the wide hereafter may behold
Thy mind, more perfect than refined gold.
But this is to enlarge the liberal air,
And pour fresh light into the diamond,
To herald that the fragrant rose is fair,
And that the Sun in beauty doth abound;
So vain, and so excessful is the thought
To add to Sidney ought:
Yet cannot I forego the sweet delight,
More sweet to me than musick or the Spring,
Or than the starry beams of Summer's night,
Thy sweetest praise, O Astrophel, to sing;
'Till the wide woods, to which I teach the same,
Shall echo with thy name;
And ev'ry fount that in the valley flows,
Shall stay its fall, and murmur at the close.
And pour fresh light into the diamond,
To herald that the fragrant rose is fair,
And that the Sun in beauty doth abound;
So vain, and so excessful is the thought
To add to Sidney ought:
Yet cannot I forego the sweet delight,
More sweet to me than musick or the Spring,
Or than the starry beams of Summer's night,
Thy sweetest praise, O Astrophel, to sing;
'Till the wide woods, to which I teach the same,
Shall echo with thy name;
13
Shall stay its fall, and murmur at the close.
Nor yet shall time, a thing not understood,
Nor weary space forbid me my desire;
The nimble mind can travel where it would,
More swift than winds, or than the greedy fire;
So shall my thoughts aspire
To that eternal seat, where thou art laid
In brightness without shade:
Thy golden locks, that in wide splendour flow,
Crowned with lilies, and with violets,
And amaranth, which that good Angel sets
With joy upon thy radiant head to blow;
(Soft flow'rs, unknown to woe,
That in the blissful meads of heav'n are found;)
The whilst full quires around
With silver hymns, and dulcet harmony,
Make laud unto the glorious throne of grace,
And fill thy ears with true felicity;
Such is the happy place,
Which thou by thy heroick toil hast won,
Such is the place, to which my sacred verses run.
Nor weary space forbid me my desire;
The nimble mind can travel where it would,
More swift than winds, or than the greedy fire;
So shall my thoughts aspire
To that eternal seat, where thou art laid
In brightness without shade:
Thy golden locks, that in wide splendour flow,
Crowned with lilies, and with violets,
And amaranth, which that good Angel sets
With joy upon thy radiant head to blow;
(Soft flow'rs, unknown to woe,
That in the blissful meads of heav'n are found;)
The whilst full quires around
With silver hymns, and dulcet harmony,
Make laud unto the glorious throne of grace,
And fill thy ears with true felicity;
Such is the happy place,
Which thou by thy heroick toil hast won,
Such is the place, to which my sacred verses run.
14
Then I believe that at thy birth was set
Some purer planet in the lofty sky,
Which a sweet influence did on earth beget;
That all the shepherds, which on ground did lie,
Beholding there that unexampled light,
That made like day the night,
Were fill'd with hope, and great expectancy,
That Pan himself would on the earth appear,
To bless th' unbounded year.
Some purer planet in the lofty sky,
Which a sweet influence did on earth beget;
That all the shepherds, which on ground did lie,
Beholding there that unexampled light,
That made like day the night,
Were fill'd with hope, and great expectancy,
That Pan himself would on the earth appear,
To bless th' unbounded year.
| Poems on Several Occasions | |