Thalia Rediviva The Pass-times and Diversions of a Countrey-muse, In Choice Poems on several Occasions. With Some Learned Remains of the Eminent Eugenius Philalethes. Never made Publick till now [by Henry Vaughan] |
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Translations.
Some Odes of the Excellent and Knowing Severinus, Englished.
Metrum 12. Lib. 3.
Happy is he, that with fix'd Eyes
The Fountain of all goodness spies!
Happy is he, that can break through
Those Bonds, which tie him here below!
The Fountain of all goodness spies!
Happy is he, that can break through
Those Bonds, which tie him here below!
The Thracian Poet long ago
Kind Orpheus, full of tears and wo
Did for his lov'd Euridice
In such sad Numbers mourn, that he
Made the Trees run in to his mone,
And Streams stand still to hear him grone.
The Does came fearless in one throng
With Lyons to his mournful Song,
And charm'd by the harmonious sound
The Hare stay'd by the quiet Hound.
Kind Orpheus, full of tears and wo
Did for his lov'd Euridice
In such sad Numbers mourn, that he
Made the Trees run in to his mone,
And Streams stand still to hear him grone.
The Does came fearless in one throng
With Lyons to his mournful Song,
And charm'd by the harmonious sound
The Hare stay'd by the quiet Hound.
But when Love heightned by despair
And deep reflections on his Fair
Had swell'd his Heart, and made it rise
And run in Tears out at his Eyes:
And those sweet Aires, which did appease
Wild Beasts, could give their Lord no case;
Then vex'd, that so much grief and Love
Mov'd not at all the gods above,
With desperate thoughts and bold intent,
Towards the Shades below he went;
For thither his fair Love was fled,
And he must have her from the dead.
There in such Lines, as did well suit
With sad Aires and a Lovers Lute,
And in the richest Language drest
That could be thought on, or exprest.
Did he complain, whatever Grief,
Or Art, or Love (which is the chief,
And all innobles,) could lay out;
In well-tun'd woes he dealt about.
And humbly bowing to the Prince
Of Ghosts, begg'd some Intelligence
Of his Euridice, and where
His beauteous Saint resided there.
Then to his Lutes instructed grones
He sigh'd out new melodious mones;
And in a melting charming strain
Begg'd his dear Love to life again.
And deep reflections on his Fair
Had swell'd his Heart, and made it rise
And run in Tears out at his Eyes:
And those sweet Aires, which did appease
Wild Beasts, could give their Lord no case;
Then vex'd, that so much grief and Love
Mov'd not at all the gods above,
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Towards the Shades below he went;
For thither his fair Love was fled,
And he must have her from the dead.
There in such Lines, as did well suit
With sad Aires and a Lovers Lute,
And in the richest Language drest
That could be thought on, or exprest.
Did he complain, whatever Grief,
Or Art, or Love (which is the chief,
And all innobles,) could lay out;
In well-tun'd woes he dealt about.
And humbly bowing to the Prince
Of Ghosts, begg'd some Intelligence
Of his Euridice, and where
His beauteous Saint resided there.
Then to his Lutes instructed grones
He sigh'd out new melodious mones;
And in a melting charming strain
Begg'd his dear Love to life again.
The Music flowing through the shade
And darkness, did with ease invade
The silent and attentive Ghosts;
And Cerberus, which guards those coasts
With his lowd barkings, overcome
By the sweet Notes, was now struck dumb.
The Furies, us'd to rave and howl
And prosecute each guilty Soul,
Had lost their rage, and in a deep
Transport did most profusely weep.
Ixion's wheel stopt, and the curst
Tantalus almost kill'd with thirst,
Though the Streams now did make no haste,
But waited for him, none would taste.
That Vultur, which fed still upon
Tityus his liver, now was gone
To feed on Air, and would not stay
Though almost famish'd, with her prey.
And darkness, did with ease invade
The silent and attentive Ghosts;
And Cerberus, which guards those coasts
With his lowd barkings, overcome
By the sweet Notes, was now struck dumb.
The Furies, us'd to rave and howl
And prosecute each guilty Soul,
Had lost their rage, and in a deep
Transport did most profusely weep.
Ixion's wheel stopt, and the curst
Tantalus almost kill'd with thirst,
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But waited for him, none would taste.
That Vultur, which fed still upon
Tityus his liver, now was gone
To feed on Air, and would not stay
Though almost famish'd, with her prey.
Won with these wonders, their fierce Prince
At last cry'd out, We yield! and since
Thy merits claim no less, take hence
Thy Consort for thy Recompence.
But, Orpheus, to this law we bind
Our grant, you must not look behind,
Nor of your fair Love have one Sight,
Till out of our Dominions quite.
At last cry'd out, We yield! and since
Thy merits claim no less, take hence
Thy Consort for thy Recompence.
But, Orpheus, to this law we bind
Our grant, you must not look behind,
Nor of your fair Love have one Sight,
Till out of our Dominions quite.
Alas! what laws can Lovers awe?
Love is it self the greatest Law!
Or who can such hard bondage brook
To be in Love, and not to Look?
Poor Orpheus almost in the light
Lost his dear Love for one short fight;
And by those Eyes, which Love did guide,
What he most lov'd unkindly dyed!
Love is it self the greatest Law!
Or who can such hard bondage brook
To be in Love, and not to Look?
Poor Orpheus almost in the light
Lost his dear Love for one short fight;
And by those Eyes, which Love did guide,
What he most lov'd unkindly dyed!
This tale of Orpheus and his Love
Was meant for you, who ever move
Upwards, and tend into that light,
Which is not seen by mortal sight.
For if, while you strive to ascend,
You droop, and towards Earth once bend
Your seduc'd Eyes, down you will fall
Ev'n while you look, and forfeit all.
Was meant for you, who ever move
Upwards, and tend into that light,
Which is not seen by mortal sight.
For if, while you strive to ascend,
You droop, and towards Earth once bend
Your seduc'd Eyes, down you will fall
Ev'n while you look, and forfeit all.
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Metrum 2. Lib. 3.
What fix'd Affections, and lov'd Laws
(which are the hid, magnetic Cause;
Wise Nature governs with, and by
What fast, inviolable tye
The whole Creation to her ends
For ever provident she bends:
All this I purpose to rehearse
In the sweet Airs of solemn Verse.
(which are the hid, magnetic Cause;
Wise Nature governs with, and by
What fast, inviolable tye
The whole Creation to her ends
For ever provident she bends:
All this I purpose to rehearse
In the sweet Airs of solemn Verse.
Although the Lybian Lyons should
Be bound with chains of purest Gold,
And duely fed, were taught to know
Their keepers voice, and fear his blow:
Yet, if they chance to taste of bloud,
Their rage which slept, stirr'd by that food
In furious roarings will awake,
And fiercely for their freedom make.
No chains, nor bars their fury brooks,
But with inrag'd and bloody looks
They will break through, and dull'd with fear
Their keeper all to pieces tear.
Be bound with chains of purest Gold,
And duely fed, were taught to know
Their keepers voice, and fear his blow:
Yet, if they chance to taste of bloud,
Their rage which slept, stirr'd by that food
In furious roarings will awake,
And fiercely for their freedom make.
No chains, nor bars their fury brooks,
But with inrag'd and bloody looks
They will break through, and dull'd with fear
Their keeper all to pieces tear.
The Bird, which on the Woods tall boughs
Sings sweetly, if you Cage or house,
And out of kindest care should think
To give her honey with her drink,
And get her store of pleasant meat,
Ev'n such as she delights to Eat:
Yet, if from her close prison she
The shady-groves doth chance to see,
Straitway she loaths her pleasant food
And with sad looks longs for the Wood.
The wood, the wood alone she loves!
And towards it she looks and moves:
And in sweet notes (though distant from,)
Sings to her first and happy home!
Sings sweetly, if you Cage or house,
And out of kindest care should think
To give her honey with her drink,
And get her store of pleasant meat,
Ev'n such as she delights to Eat:
Yet, if from her close prison she
The shady-groves doth chance to see,
Straitway she loaths her pleasant food
And with sad looks longs for the Wood.
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And towards it she looks and moves:
And in sweet notes (though distant from,)
Sings to her first and happy home!
That Plant, which of it self doth grow
Upwards, if forc'd, will downwards bow;
But give it freedom, and it will
Get up, and grow erectly still.
Upwards, if forc'd, will downwards bow;
But give it freedom, and it will
Get up, and grow erectly still.
The Sun, which by his prone descent
Seems westward in the Evening bent,
Doth nightly by an unseen way
Haste to the East, and bring up day.
Seems westward in the Evening bent,
Doth nightly by an unseen way
Haste to the East, and bring up day.
Thus all things long for their first State,
And gladly to't return, though late.
Nor is there here to any thing
A Course allow'd, but in a Ring;
Which, where it first began, must end:
And to that Point directly tend.
And gladly to't return, though late.
Nor is there here to any thing
A Course allow'd, but in a Ring;
Which, where it first began, must end:
And to that Point directly tend.
Metrum 6 Lib. 4.
Who would unclouded see the Laws
Of the supreme, eternal Cause,
Let him with careful thoughts and eyes
Observe the high and spatious Skyes.
There in one league of Love the Stars
Keep their old peace, and shew our wars.
The Sun, though flaming still and hot,
The cold, pale Moon annoyeth not.
Arcturus with his Sons (though they
See other stars go a far way,
And out of sight,) yet still are found
Near the North-pole, their noted bound.
Bright Hesper (at set times) delights
To usher in the dusky nights:
And in the East again attends
To warn us, when the day ascends,
So alternate Love supplys
Eternal Courses still, and vies
Mutual kindness; that no Jars
Nor discord can disturb the Stars.
Of the supreme, eternal Cause,
Let him with careful thoughts and eyes
Observe the high and spatious Skyes.
There in one league of Love the Stars
Keep their old peace, and shew our wars.
The Sun, though flaming still and hot,
The cold, pale Moon annoyeth not.
Arcturus with his Sons (though they
See other stars go a far way,
And out of sight,) yet still are found
Near the North-pole, their noted bound.
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To usher in the dusky nights:
And in the East again attends
To warn us, when the day ascends,
So alternate Love supplys
Eternal Courses still, and vies
Mutual kindness; that no Jars
Nor discord can disturb the Stars.
The same sweet Concord here below
Makes the fierce Elements to flow
And Circle without quarrel still,
Though temper'd diversly; thus will
The Hot assist the Cold: the Dry
Is a friend to Humidity.
And by the Law of kindness they
The like relief to them repay.
The fire, which active is and bright,
Tends upward, and from thence gives light.
The Earth allows it all that space
And makes choice of the lower place;
For things of weight hast to the Center
A fall to them is no adventure.
Makes the fierce Elements to flow
And Circle without quarrel still,
Though temper'd diversly; thus will
The Hot assist the Cold: the Dry
Is a friend to Humidity.
And by the Law of kindness they
The like relief to them repay.
The fire, which active is and bright,
Tends upward, and from thence gives light.
The Earth allows it all that space
And makes choice of the lower place;
For things of weight hast to the Center
A fall to them is no adventure.
From these kind turns and Circulation
Seasons proceed and Generation.
This makes the Spring to yield us flow'rs,
And melts the Clouds to gentle show'rs.
The Summer thus matures all seeds
And ripens both the Corn and weeds.
This brings on Autumn, which recruits
Our old, spent store with new fresh fruits.
And the cold Winters blastring Season
Hath snow and storms for the same reason.
This temper and wise mixture breed
And bring forth ev'ry living seed.
And when their strength and substance spend
(For while they live, they drive and tend
Still to a change,) it takes them hence
And shifts their dress; and to our sense
Their Course is over, as their birth:
And hid from us, they turn to Earth.
Seasons proceed and Generation.
This makes the Spring to yield us flow'rs,
And melts the Clouds to gentle show'rs.
The Summer thus matures all seeds
And ripens both the Corn and weeds.
This brings on Autumn, which recruits
Our old, spent store with new fresh fruits.
And the cold Winters blastring Season
Hath snow and storms for the same reason.
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And bring forth ev'ry living seed.
And when their strength and substance spend
(For while they live, they drive and tend
Still to a change,) it takes them hence
And shifts their dress; and to our sense
Their Course is over, as their birth:
And hid from us, they turn to Earth.
But all this while the Prince of life
Sits without loss, or change, or strife:
Holding the Rains, by which all move;
(And those his wisdom, power, Love
And Justice are;) And still what he
The first life bids, that needs must be,
And live on for a time; that done
He calls it back, meerly to shun
The mischief, which his creature might
Run into by a further flight.
For if this dear and tender sense
Of his preventing providence
Did not restrain and call things back:
Both heav'n and earth would go to wrack.
And from their great preserver part,
As blood let out forsakes the Heart
And perisheth; but what returns
With fresh and Brighter spirits burns.
Sits without loss, or change, or strife:
Holding the Rains, by which all move;
(And those his wisdom, power, Love
And Justice are;) And still what he
The first life bids, that needs must be,
And live on for a time; that done
He calls it back, meerly to shun
The mischief, which his creature might
Run into by a further flight.
For if this dear and tender sense
Of his preventing providence
Did not restrain and call things back:
Both heav'n and earth would go to wrack.
And from their great preserver part,
As blood let out forsakes the Heart
And perisheth; but what returns
With fresh and Brighter spirits burns.
This is the Cause why ev'ry living
Creature affects an endless being.
A grain of this bright love each thing
Had giv'n at first by their great King;
And still they creep (drawn on by this:)
And look back towards their first bliss.
For otherwise, it is most sure,
Nothing that liveth could endure:
Unless it's Love turn'd retrograde
Sought that first life, which all things made.
Creature affects an endless being.
A grain of this bright love each thing
Had giv'n at first by their great King;
And still they creep (drawn on by this:)
And look back towards their first bliss.
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Nothing that liveth could endure:
Unless it's Love turn'd retrograde
Sought that first life, which all things made.
Metrum 3. Lib. 4.
If old tradition hath not fail'd,
Ulysses, when from Troy he sail'd,
Was by a tempest forc'd to land
Where beauteous Circe did command.
Circe, the daughter of the Sun,
Which had with Charms and Herbs undone
Many poor strangers, and could then
Turn into Beasts, the bravest Men.
Such Magic in her potions lay
That whosoever past that way
And drank, his shape was quickly lost;
Some into Swine she turn'd, but most
To Lyons arm'd with teeth and claws;
Others like Wolves, with open Jaws
Did howl; But some (more savage) took
The Tiger's dreadful shape and look.
Ulysses, when from Troy he sail'd,
Was by a tempest forc'd to land
Where beauteous Circe did command.
Circe, the daughter of the Sun,
Which had with Charms and Herbs undone
Many poor strangers, and could then
Turn into Beasts, the bravest Men.
Such Magic in her potions lay
That whosoever past that way
And drank, his shape was quickly lost;
Some into Swine she turn'd, but most
To Lyons arm'd with teeth and claws;
Others like Wolves, with open Jaws
Did howl; But some (more savage) took
The Tiger's dreadful shape and look.
But wise Ulysses by the Aid
Of Hermes, had to him convey'd
A Flow'r, whose virtue did suppress
The force of charms, and their success.
While his Mates drank so deep, that they
Were turn'd to Swine, which fed all day
On Mast, and humane food had left,
Of shape and voice at once bereft.
Only the Mind (above all charms,)
Unchang'd, did mourn those monstrous harms.
Of Hermes, had to him convey'd
A Flow'r, whose virtue did suppress
The force of charms, and their success.
While his Mates drank so deep, that they
Were turn'd to Swine, which fed all day
On Mast, and humane food had left,
Of shape and voice at once bereft.
Only the Mind (above all charms,)
Unchang'd, did mourn those monstrous harms.
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O worthless herbs, and weaker Arts
To change their Limbs, but not their Hearts
Mans life and vigor keep within,
Lodg'd in the Center, not the Skin.
Those piercing charms and poysons, which
His inward parts taint and bewitch,
More fatal are, than such, which can
Outwardly only spoile the man.
Those change his shape and make it foul;
But these deform and kill his soul.
To change their Limbs, but not their Hearts
Mans life and vigor keep within,
Lodg'd in the Center, not the Skin.
Those piercing charms and poysons, which
His inward parts taint and bewitch,
More fatal are, than such, which can
Outwardly only spoile the man.
Those change his shape and make it foul;
But these deform and kill his soul.
Metrum 6. Lib. 3.
All
sorts of men, that live on Earth,
Have one beginning and one birth.
For all things there is one Father,
Who lays out all, and all doth gather.
He the warm Sun with rays adorns,
And fils with brightness the Moon's horns.
The azur'd heav'ns with stars he burnish'd
And the round world with creatures furnish'd.
But Men (made to inherit all,)
His own Sons he was pleas'd to call,
And that they might be so indeed,
He gave them Souls of divine seed.
A noble Offspring surely then
Without distinction, are all men.
Have one beginning and one birth.
For all things there is one Father,
Who lays out all, and all doth gather.
He the warm Sun with rays adorns,
And fils with brightness the Moon's horns.
The azur'd heav'ns with stars he burnish'd
And the round world with creatures furnish'd.
But Men (made to inherit all,)
His own Sons he was pleas'd to call,
And that they might be so indeed,
He gave them Souls of divine seed.
A noble Offspring surely then
Without distinction, are all men.
O why so vainly do some boast
Their Birth and Blood, and a great Hoste
Of Ancestors, whose Coats and Crests
Are some rav'nous Birds or Beasts!
If Extraction they look for
And God, the great Progenitor:
No man, though of the meanest state
Is base, or can degenerate;
Unless to Vice and lewdness bent
He leaves and taints his true descent.
Their Birth and Blood, and a great Hoste
Of Ancestors, whose Coats and Crests
Are some rav'nous Birds or Beasts!
If Extraction they look for
And God, the great Progenitor:
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Is base, or can degenerate;
Unless to Vice and lewdness bent
He leaves and taints his true descent.
The old man of Verona out of Claudian.
Fælix, qui propriis ævum transegit in arvis,
Una domus puerum &c.
Una domus puerum &c.
Most happy man! who in his own sweet fields
Spent all his time, to whom one Cottage yields
In age and youth a lodging: who grown old
Walks with his staff on the same soil and mold
Where he did creep an infant, and can tell
Many fair years spent in one quiet Cell!
No toils of fate made him from home far known,
Nor forreign waters drank, driv'n from his own.
No loss by Sea, no wild lands wastful war
Vex'd him; not the brib'd Coil of growns at bar.
Exempt from cares, in Cities never seen
The fresh field-air he loves, and rural green.
The years set turns by fruits, not Consuls knows;
Autumn by apples: May by blossom'd boughs.
Within one hedg his Sun doth set and rise,
The world's wide day his short Demeasnes comprise.
Where he observes some known, concrescent twig
Now grown an Oak, and old, like him, and big.
Verona he doth for the Indies take,
And as the red Sea counts Benacus lake.
Yet are his limbs and strength untir'd, and he
A lusty Grandsire three descents doth see.
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This man hath liv'd, and that hath wander'd more.
The Sphere of Archimedes out of Claudian.
Jupiter in parvo cum cerneret æthera vitro
Risit, & ad superos &c.
Risit, & ad superos &c.
When Jove a heav'n of small glass did behold,
He smil'd, and to the Gods these words he told.
Comes then the power of mans Art to this?
In a frail Orbe my work new acted is.
The poles decrees, the fate of things: God's laws
Down by his Art old Archimedes draws.
Spirits inclos'd the sev'ral Stars attend,
And orderly the living work they bend.
A feigned Zodiac measures out the year,
Ev'ry new month a false Moon doth appear.
And now bold industry is proud, it can
Wheel round its world, and rule the Stars by man.
Why at Salmoneus thunder do I stand?
Nature is rivall'd by a single hand.
The Phœnix out of Claudian.
Oceani summo circumfluus æquore lucus
Trans Indos, Eurumque viret &c,
Trans Indos, Eurumque viret &c,
A grove there grows round with the Sea confin'd
Beyond the Indies, and the Eastern wind.
Which, as the Sun breaks forth in his first beam,
Salutes his steeds, and hears him whip his team.
When with his dewy Coach the Eastern Bay
Crackles, whence blusheth the approaching day;
And blasted with his burnish'd wheels, the night
In a pale dress doth vanish from the light.
Beyond the Indies, and the Eastern wind.
Which, as the Sun breaks forth in his first beam,
Salutes his steeds, and hears him whip his team.
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Crackles, whence blusheth the approaching day;
And blasted with his burnish'd wheels, the night
In a pale dress doth vanish from the light.
This the blest Phœnix Empire is, here he
Alone exempted from mortality,
Enjoys a land, where no diseases raign;
And ne'r afflicted, like our world, with pain.
A Bird most equal to the Gods, which vies
For length of life and durance, with the skyes;
And with renewed limbs tires ev'ry age,
His appetite he never doth asswage
With common food. Nor doth he use to drink
When thirsty, on some River's muddy brink.
A purer, vital heat shot from the Sun
Doth nourish him, and airy sweets that come
From Tethis lap, he tasteth at his need;
On such abstracted Diet doth he feed.
Alone exempted from mortality,
Enjoys a land, where no diseases raign;
And ne'r afflicted, like our world, with pain.
A Bird most equal to the Gods, which vies
For length of life and durance, with the skyes;
And with renewed limbs tires ev'ry age,
His appetite he never doth asswage
With common food. Nor doth he use to drink
When thirsty, on some River's muddy brink.
A purer, vital heat shot from the Sun
Doth nourish him, and airy sweets that come
From Tethis lap, he tasteth at his need;
On such abstracted Diet doth he feed.
A secret Light there streams from both his Eyes
A firy hue about his cheeks doth rise.
His Crest grows up into a glorious Star
Giv'n t' adorn his head, and shines so far.
That piercing through the bosom of the night
It rends the darkness with a gladsome light.
His thighs like Tyrian scarlet, and his wings
(More swift than Winds are,) have skie-colour'd rings
Flowry and rich: and round about inroll'd
Their utmost borders glister all with gold.
Hee's not conceiv'd, nor springs he from the Earth,
But is himself the Parent, and the birth.
None him begets; his fruitful death reprieves
Old age, and by his funerals he lives.
For when the tedious Summer's gone about
A thousand times: so many Winters out,
So many Springs: and May doth still restore
Those leaves, which Autumn had blown off before;
Then prest with years his vigour doth decline
Foil'd with the number; as a stately Pine
Tir'd out with storms, bends from the top & height
Of Causacus, and falls with its own weight:
Whose part is torn with dayly blasts, with Rain
Part is consum'd, and part with Age again.
So now his Eyes grown dusky, fail to see
Far off, and drops of colder rheums there be
Fall'n slow and dreggy from them; such in sight
The cloudy Moon is, having spent her light.
And now his wings, which used to contend
With Tempests, scarce from the low Earth ascend.
He knows his time is out! and doth provide
New principles of life; herbs he brings dried
From the hot hills, and with rich spices frames
A Pile shall burn, and Hatch him with its flames.
On this the weakling sits; salutes the Sun
With pleasant noise, and prays and begs for some
Of his own fire, that quickly may restore
The youth and vigour, which he had before.
Whom soon as Phœbus spyes, stopping his rayns,
He makes a stand and thus allayes his pains.
O thou that buriest old age in thy grave,
And art by seeming funerals to have
A new return of life! whose custom 'tis
To rise by ruin, and by death to miss.
Ev'n death it self: a new beginning take,
And that thy wither'd body now forsake!
Better thy self by this thy change! This sed,
He shakes his locks, and from his golden head
Shoots one bright beam, which smites with vital fire
The willing bird; to burn is his desire,
That he may live again: he's proud in death,
And goes in haste to gain a better breath.
The spicie heap fir'd with cœlestial rays
Doth burn the aged Phœnix, when strait stays
The Chariot of th' amazed Moon; the pole
Resists the wheeling, swift Orbs, and the whole
Fabric of Nature at a stand remains,
Till the old bird a new, young being gains.
All stop and charge the faithful flames, that they
Suffer not nature's glory to decay.
A firy hue about his cheeks doth rise.
His Crest grows up into a glorious Star
Giv'n t' adorn his head, and shines so far.
That piercing through the bosom of the night
It rends the darkness with a gladsome light.
His thighs like Tyrian scarlet, and his wings
(More swift than Winds are,) have skie-colour'd rings
Flowry and rich: and round about inroll'd
Their utmost borders glister all with gold.
Hee's not conceiv'd, nor springs he from the Earth,
But is himself the Parent, and the birth.
None him begets; his fruitful death reprieves
Old age, and by his funerals he lives.
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A thousand times: so many Winters out,
So many Springs: and May doth still restore
Those leaves, which Autumn had blown off before;
Then prest with years his vigour doth decline
Foil'd with the number; as a stately Pine
Tir'd out with storms, bends from the top & height
Of Causacus, and falls with its own weight:
Whose part is torn with dayly blasts, with Rain
Part is consum'd, and part with Age again.
So now his Eyes grown dusky, fail to see
Far off, and drops of colder rheums there be
Fall'n slow and dreggy from them; such in sight
The cloudy Moon is, having spent her light.
And now his wings, which used to contend
With Tempests, scarce from the low Earth ascend.
He knows his time is out! and doth provide
New principles of life; herbs he brings dried
From the hot hills, and with rich spices frames
A Pile shall burn, and Hatch him with its flames.
On this the weakling sits; salutes the Sun
With pleasant noise, and prays and begs for some
Of his own fire, that quickly may restore
The youth and vigour, which he had before.
Whom soon as Phœbus spyes, stopping his rayns,
He makes a stand and thus allayes his pains.
O thou that buriest old age in thy grave,
And art by seeming funerals to have
A new return of life! whose custom 'tis
To rise by ruin, and by death to miss.
Ev'n death it self: a new beginning take,
And that thy wither'd body now forsake!
44
He shakes his locks, and from his golden head
Shoots one bright beam, which smites with vital fire
The willing bird; to burn is his desire,
That he may live again: he's proud in death,
And goes in haste to gain a better breath.
The spicie heap fir'd with cœlestial rays
Doth burn the aged Phœnix, when strait stays
The Chariot of th' amazed Moon; the pole
Resists the wheeling, swift Orbs, and the whole
Fabric of Nature at a stand remains,
Till the old bird a new, young being gains.
All stop and charge the faithful flames, that they
Suffer not nature's glory to decay.
By this time, life which in the ashes lurks
Hath fram'd the Heart, and taught new bloud new works;
The whole heap stirs, and ev'ry part assumes
Due vigour; th' Embers too are turn'd to plumes.
The parent in the Issue now revives,
But young and brisk; the bounds of both these lives
With very little space between the same,
Were parted only by the middle flame.
Hath fram'd the Heart, and taught new bloud new works;
The whole heap stirs, and ev'ry part assumes
Due vigour; th' Embers too are turn'd to plumes.
The parent in the Issue now revives,
But young and brisk; the bounds of both these lives
With very little space between the same,
Were parted only by the middle flame.
To Nilus strait he goes to consecrate
His parents ghoste; his mind is to translate
His dust to Egypt. Now he hastes away
Into a distant land, and doth convey
The ashes in a turf. Birds do attend
His Journey without number, and defend
His pious flight like to a guard; the sky
Is clouded with the Army, as they fly.
Nor is there one of all those thousands dares
Affront his leader: they with solomn cares
Attend the progress of their youthful king;
Not the rude hawk, nor th' Eagle that doth bring
Arms up to Jove, fight now; lest they displease;
The miracle enacts a common peace.
So doth the Parthian lead from Tigris side
His barbarous troops, full of a lavish pride
In pearls and habit, he adorns his head
With royal tires: his steed with gold is lead.
His robes, for which the scarlet fish is sought,
With rare Assyrian needle work are wrought.
And proudly reigning o're his rascal bands,
He raves and triumphs in his large Commands.
His parents ghoste; his mind is to translate
His dust to Egypt. Now he hastes away
Into a distant land, and doth convey
The ashes in a turf. Birds do attend
His Journey without number, and defend
His pious flight like to a guard; the sky
Is clouded with the Army, as they fly.
Nor is there one of all those thousands dares
Affront his leader: they with solomn cares
45
Not the rude hawk, nor th' Eagle that doth bring
Arms up to Jove, fight now; lest they displease;
The miracle enacts a common peace.
So doth the Parthian lead from Tigris side
His barbarous troops, full of a lavish pride
In pearls and habit, he adorns his head
With royal tires: his steed with gold is lead.
His robes, for which the scarlet fish is sought,
With rare Assyrian needle work are wrought.
And proudly reigning o're his rascal bands,
He raves and triumphs in his large Commands.
A City of Egypt famous in all lands
For rites, adores the Sun, his temple stands
There on a hundred pillars by account
Dig'd from the quarries of the Theban mount.
Here, as the Custom did require (they say,)
His happy parents dust down he doth lay;
Then to the Image of his Lord he bends
And to the flames his burden strait commends.
Unto the Altars thus he destinates
His own Remains: the light doth gild the gates;
Perfumes divine the Censers up do send:
While th' Indian odour doth it self extend
To the Pelusian fens, and filleth all
The men it meets with the sweet storm. A gale
To which compar'd, Nectar it self is vile:
Fills the seav'n channels of the misty Nile.
For rites, adores the Sun, his temple stands
There on a hundred pillars by account
Dig'd from the quarries of the Theban mount.
Here, as the Custom did require (they say,)
His happy parents dust down he doth lay;
Then to the Image of his Lord he bends
And to the flames his burden strait commends.
Unto the Altars thus he destinates
His own Remains: the light doth gild the gates;
Perfumes divine the Censers up do send:
While th' Indian odour doth it self extend
To the Pelusian fens, and filleth all
The men it meets with the sweet storm. A gale
To which compar'd, Nectar it self is vile:
Fills the seav'n channels of the misty Nile.
O happy bird! sole heir to thy own dust!
Death, to whose force all other Creatures must
Submit, saves thee. Thy ashes make thee rise;
'Tis not thy nature, but thy age that dies.
Thou hast seen All! and to the times that run
Thou art as great a witness, as the Sun.
Thou saw'st the deluge, when the sea outvied
The land, and drown'd the mountains with the tide.
What year the stragling Phaeton did fire
The world, thou know'st. And no plagues can conspire
Against thy life; alone thou do'st arise
Above mortality; the Destinies
Spin not thy days out with their fatal Clue;
They have no Law, to which thy life is due.
Death, to whose force all other Creatures must
Submit, saves thee. Thy ashes make thee rise;
'Tis not thy nature, but thy age that dies.
46
Thou art as great a witness, as the Sun.
Thou saw'st the deluge, when the sea outvied
The land, and drown'd the mountains with the tide.
What year the stragling Phaeton did fire
The world, thou know'st. And no plagues can conspire
Against thy life; alone thou do'st arise
Above mortality; the Destinies
Spin not thy days out with their fatal Clue;
They have no Law, to which thy life is due.
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