 | The Poetical Works of Mr. William Pattison |  |
102
Leander to Hero, Priestess of the Temple of Venus
Upon his being by Tempests, prevented from paying his nightly Visits to Her, by swimming over the Hellespontic Sea.
That Health Leander to his Hero sends,
Himself would bring, were Winds and Seas his Friends.
If the kind Gods my constant Passion speed,
These Lines my Charmer with Regret must read.
But sure I fear, the cruel Deities
Conspire against me with the Winds and Seas;
Assiduous Prayers are offer'd up in vain,
Waves choak my Passage o'er the stormy Main.
See! what a pitchy Gloom involves the Sky,
How fiery red the nimble Light'nings fly:
Scarce any Vessel will the Danger prove,
Of high-swoll'n Billows, and of angry Jove.
One only ventures from the Shore to part;
Fraught with the Wishes of my bleeding Heart;
O may propitious Love conduct her way,
Swift as his Shafts, unerring too as they.
I would have climb'd the happy Vessel's Side,
But all Abydos then my Love had spy'd,
Which I so long conceal'd in deep Disguise
From all the World, and from my Parents Eyes.
This when I wrote, with murm'ring Sighs I said,
Go, faithful Paper, to the lovely Maid,
Feel the soft Touches of her beauteous Hands,
(Thy Master envies thee such sweet Commands)
As with her Iv'ry Teeth she strives to break
Thy slender Chains, close by her glowing Cheek:
Enjoy the Bliss of every breathing Gale,
And Fragrance, which her rosy Lips exhale.
These are the Dictates of an am'rous Heart,
To senseless Paper which my Hands impart:
But O! how much more willing would they sweep,
The level Surface of the long-known Deep!
Seven Nights are past, to me a tedious Year;
Since howling Tempests stun my tortur'd Ear:
If during these, soft Sleep has seal'd my Eyes,
Mourning to see the low'ring Morns arise,
Kept by the Dangers of the furious Main,
May I no more thy dearest Sight regain.
Sometimes upon a rugged Rock reclin'd,
I strive to sooth my melancholy Mind;
With earnest Look, and ardent Thought pursue
The distant, dear, forbidden Shore in View:
Swifter than Light, Imagination flies,
And gains what intervening Space denies.
Himself would bring, were Winds and Seas his Friends.
If the kind Gods my constant Passion speed,
These Lines my Charmer with Regret must read.
But sure I fear, the cruel Deities
Conspire against me with the Winds and Seas;
Assiduous Prayers are offer'd up in vain,
Waves choak my Passage o'er the stormy Main.
103
How fiery red the nimble Light'nings fly:
Scarce any Vessel will the Danger prove,
Of high-swoll'n Billows, and of angry Jove.
One only ventures from the Shore to part;
Fraught with the Wishes of my bleeding Heart;
O may propitious Love conduct her way,
Swift as his Shafts, unerring too as they.
I would have climb'd the happy Vessel's Side,
But all Abydos then my Love had spy'd,
Which I so long conceal'd in deep Disguise
From all the World, and from my Parents Eyes.
This when I wrote, with murm'ring Sighs I said,
Go, faithful Paper, to the lovely Maid,
Feel the soft Touches of her beauteous Hands,
(Thy Master envies thee such sweet Commands)
As with her Iv'ry Teeth she strives to break
Thy slender Chains, close by her glowing Cheek:
Enjoy the Bliss of every breathing Gale,
And Fragrance, which her rosy Lips exhale.
104
To senseless Paper which my Hands impart:
But O! how much more willing would they sweep,
The level Surface of the long-known Deep!
Seven Nights are past, to me a tedious Year;
Since howling Tempests stun my tortur'd Ear:
If during these, soft Sleep has seal'd my Eyes,
Mourning to see the low'ring Morns arise,
Kept by the Dangers of the furious Main,
May I no more thy dearest Sight regain.
Sometimes upon a rugged Rock reclin'd,
I strive to sooth my melancholy Mind;
With earnest Look, and ardent Thought pursue
The distant, dear, forbidden Shore in View:
Swifter than Light, Imagination flies,
And gains what intervening Space denies.
As o'er the lonely Rocks, and Shelves I gaze,
Methought I saw thy watchful Taper blaze.
Thrice I depos'd my Garments on the Sand,
Thrice plunging in the Deep, forsook the Land.
The surging Waves my youthful Blows repell'd,
Beat on my Temples, and my Fury quell'd.
But O! thou Chief of all the swelling Tribe,
What mighty Treasure could thy Malice bribe,
To thwart my Will? against unhappy me
Thy Spite is vented, rather than the Sea.
Cold tho' thou art, thy chilly frozen Veins,
Thaw'd by warm Love, have thrill'd with am'rous Pains.
How hadst thou bluster'd, if some pious Aid
Had stopt thy Passage to the ravish'd Maid?
Taught by thy self then, Boreas, learn to spare
My sick'ning Hopes, and hear a Lover's Prayer;
Deaf to my Prayers, regardless of my Moan,
Boreas re-murmurs in a louder Tone.
O! had I, Dædalus, thy daring Wings,
Scorning the Danger which Ambition brings,
Soaring aloft, I'd skim the buxom Air,
And fly to the Embraces of my Fair.
This too's deny'd; then let me for a while
With sadly-sweet amusing Thoughts beguile
The tedious Time, recall those fleeting Hours
Of killing Extasy, that once were ours.
Forth from my Father's House I stole alone,
As Night slow-mounting up her Ebon-Throne,
Began her twinkling Glories to display,
And to the Shore unheeded took my way:
Then threw my Garments with my Fear aside,
And plunging, buffeted the sturdy Tide.
The friendly Moon with kind officious Beams,
Silver'd the Surface of the trembling Streams;
Yet ever and anon she seem'd to shrowd
Her fading Lustre in a fleecy Cloud.
Then I; Fair Goddess of the silent Night,
Bereave me not of thy auspicious Light;
Mindful of young Endymion's bloomy Charms,
Conduct me safely to my Hero's Arms.
You, tho' a Deity, forsook the Skies,
Lur'd by the Magick of a Mortal's Eyes:
A Goddess is the Object of my Care,
Her Form, her Mind, her All, Divinity declare!
Her Charms to none the Preference resign,
But to the Paphian Queen's, or Cynthia, thine.
As all the Stars in yonder azure Field,
To thy serene superior Brightness yield,
So do the fairest Nymphs with Envy die,
And fade when near the Lustre of her Eye.
This swimming softly to my self I spoke;
The yielding Waves divide at ev'ry Stroke.
The glassy Plain reflects the quiv'ring Ray,
And the Skies brighten with a fainter Day.
Scarce any slumb'ring Breeze was heard to breathe,
Or sound, but of the bubbling Stream beneath.
Halcyons alone their hapless Fate deplore,
Moaning along the melancholy Shore.
And now with vent'rous swimming almost sped,
High from the Main erect I rais'd my Head:
But with what Transport spy'd I from afar,
The ruddy Gleamings of my better Star:
Within, I said, a brighter yet remains,
Source of my Joys, and End of all my Pains.
Sudden my Sinews reassum'd their Force,
And with fresh Vigour I pursu'd my Course.
Too weak Old Ocean's confluent Waters prove,
To quench the Flames of my resistless Love.
Near and more near the Land advances still,
But lags too slow for my fond eager Will.
Now, now I view the Queen of my Desire,
And all my raging Passions are on fire.
Methought I saw thy watchful Taper blaze.
105
Thrice plunging in the Deep, forsook the Land.
The surging Waves my youthful Blows repell'd,
Beat on my Temples, and my Fury quell'd.
But O! thou Chief of all the swelling Tribe,
What mighty Treasure could thy Malice bribe,
To thwart my Will? against unhappy me
Thy Spite is vented, rather than the Sea.
Cold tho' thou art, thy chilly frozen Veins,
Thaw'd by warm Love, have thrill'd with am'rous Pains.
How hadst thou bluster'd, if some pious Aid
Had stopt thy Passage to the ravish'd Maid?
Taught by thy self then, Boreas, learn to spare
My sick'ning Hopes, and hear a Lover's Prayer;
Deaf to my Prayers, regardless of my Moan,
Boreas re-murmurs in a louder Tone.
O! had I, Dædalus, thy daring Wings,
Scorning the Danger which Ambition brings,
106
And fly to the Embraces of my Fair.
This too's deny'd; then let me for a while
With sadly-sweet amusing Thoughts beguile
The tedious Time, recall those fleeting Hours
Of killing Extasy, that once were ours.
Forth from my Father's House I stole alone,
As Night slow-mounting up her Ebon-Throne,
Began her twinkling Glories to display,
And to the Shore unheeded took my way:
Then threw my Garments with my Fear aside,
And plunging, buffeted the sturdy Tide.
The friendly Moon with kind officious Beams,
Silver'd the Surface of the trembling Streams;
Yet ever and anon she seem'd to shrowd
Her fading Lustre in a fleecy Cloud.
Then I; Fair Goddess of the silent Night,
Bereave me not of thy auspicious Light;
Mindful of young Endymion's bloomy Charms,
Conduct me safely to my Hero's Arms.
107
Lur'd by the Magick of a Mortal's Eyes:
A Goddess is the Object of my Care,
Her Form, her Mind, her All, Divinity declare!
Her Charms to none the Preference resign,
But to the Paphian Queen's, or Cynthia, thine.
As all the Stars in yonder azure Field,
To thy serene superior Brightness yield,
So do the fairest Nymphs with Envy die,
And fade when near the Lustre of her Eye.
This swimming softly to my self I spoke;
The yielding Waves divide at ev'ry Stroke.
The glassy Plain reflects the quiv'ring Ray,
And the Skies brighten with a fainter Day.
Scarce any slumb'ring Breeze was heard to breathe,
Or sound, but of the bubbling Stream beneath.
Halcyons alone their hapless Fate deplore,
Moaning along the melancholy Shore.
And now with vent'rous swimming almost sped,
High from the Main erect I rais'd my Head:
108
The ruddy Gleamings of my better Star:
Within, I said, a brighter yet remains,
Source of my Joys, and End of all my Pains.
Sudden my Sinews reassum'd their Force,
And with fresh Vigour I pursu'd my Course.
Too weak Old Ocean's confluent Waters prove,
To quench the Flames of my resistless Love.
Near and more near the Land advances still,
But lags too slow for my fond eager Will.
Now, now I view the Queen of my Desire,
And all my raging Passions are on fire.
| The Poetical Works of Mr. William Pattison | |