Anacreon :: :: University of Virginia Library

In the bright Region of the fertile East,
Where constant calms smooth Heav'ns unclowded Brow,
There lives an easie people, vow'd to rest,
Who on Love onely all their hours bestow:
By no unwelcome Discontents opprest;
No cares, save those that from this Passion flow,
Here raigns, here ever uncontroll'd did raign,
The beauteous Queen sprung from the foming Main.

Her Hand the Scepter bears, the Crown her Head,
Her willing Vassals here their Tribute pay:
Here is her sacred Power, and Statutes spread,
Which all with cheerful forwardness obey:
The Lover by affliction hither led,
Receives relief, sent satisfi'd away:
Here all enjoy, to give their soft flames ease,
The pliant figures of their Mistresses.

Love is the subject all their talk implies;
Enamoured is the season of the Year:
Every thing kills with Love, or for Love dies:
Without Loves Pass, there is no coming near.
Love is their Traffick, Stock, and Merchandize:
Love is the onely business every where.
When the young Trees thrust their fresh blossoms out,
The smiling Branches seem with Love to sprout.

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Love every structure offers to the sight,
And every stone his soft impression wears.
The Fountains moving pitty, and delight,
With amorous murmurs drop perswasive tears.
The Rivers in their courses Love invite,
Love is the onely sound their motion bears:
The winds in whispers sooth these kinde desires,
And fan with their mild breath, Loves glowing fires.

Amidst a wide, green Plain, the Royal Seat
Of this Majestick Queen is sweetly plac'd.
About it runs a purling Rivolet,
On either side by spreading trees embrac'd:
From whose thick boughs, with constant shades repleat,
The day in her Solstitial pride is chac'd:
These bloom with fragrant blossoms all the year,
And Nightingales their trillo practise here.

A thousand petty Rills there are beside,
Which in uncertain windings loosely stray:
And by wilde Labyrinths their Current guide,
One crossing wantonly the others way.
The softer murmurs of whose pleasing tyde,
To their Embrace the virgin flowers betray;
Which, with a bashful niceness, trembling fall
Into the stream, obsequious to Loves Call.

A Tower there is which this large Plain defends,
Kept by the Boy who o're all Souls prevails:
Here every Morn and Evening, he ascends,
And with his Arrows all the Earth assails.
The Wounds he makes, Art with no cure befriends;
His Mark he never sees, yet never fails.

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The subtile stroak, at first, infers no smart,
But on the sudden, gnaws the tortur'd heart.

Weary with shooting through the darkned air
These feather'd tempests, mighty Love comes thence,
Enclos'd by thousand lesser Loves, a share
To every one alike he doth dispence.
Affection is committed to their care:
They also have the power to wound our sence;
But their blunt shafts can onely raze the skin,
And vulgar souls, to vulgar pleasures win.

In the remotest corner of this land,
Down in a vail, there is another seat:
About it woody Mountains tottring stand,
To overlook the shadows they beget:
Whose twisted branches daylight countermand:
With darkness all, all is with night repleat:
The worst of sorrows, and misfortunes, dwell.
With the sad owner of this luckless Cell.

Dire Jealousie; fear'd, and afraid of all:
Whom the Queen sometimes sees in complement,
And to divert the mischiefs, that befall
Her wretched servants, piously is bent.
She her inheritance this place doth call;
And from the Royal blood boasts her descent.
The sacred Queen of Love, though she disdain her,
Because so near a kin, bound to maintain her.

The discontents that on this sad Wretch wait,
She with her native joyes, sweetly allayes:
Amongst her people, (strangers to debate)
Here lives and loves, and others Loves surveys.

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Pleasure, her chamber, and her Chair of state,
Richly adorns; Pleasure, her Limbs arrays.
The Loves of such blest souls, as with most true
Devotion serve, are always in her view.

These swell with Pride, that their fair Queen, before
Her other Subjects, their desires prefers:
Of Lovers who obtain what they implore,
The praise, and victory, is onely hers.
With her, their pure affections sacred store,
Repose the conquerd, and the Conquerers.
Their stock continual Interest doth fill,
Much by good Fate increasing more by ill:

She all these suppliants distinctly knows.
And purifies the flames wherein they burn.
Much time with pious diligence bestows,
To ease the miseries of such as mourn.
Takes an exact account of all their woes,
To give them of delight a full return.
And to this end, in her admired name,
A general assembly doth proclaim.

Now rose the smiling Star that guilds the Face
Of our dark sphear, at whose approach grow dim
The sparkling gems of night, forc'd to give place
To one whose beauty far out-rivals them;
When Venus left her Court, the Plains to grace;
Her Love, and Jealousie attended him.
Jealousie, plague of every amorous breast,
Which with most spight the fairest doth infest.

Forth comes this Queen of Beauty, and Desire,
Her tresses playing with the wanton air,

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Bright her Complexion is, white her Attire,
Sweetness, and Majesty, her Glances share,
Her Eyes, which Men adore, and Gods admire,
Forbid to hope, nor suffer to despair.
Including all the Graces in one look,
That Zeuxes from Crotonian virgins took.

When all her People were together met,
First to the midst, then round about she goes;
And as she views them, an enlivening heat
On every heart her radiant eyes disclose:
Commands her Son appoint to each his seat,
And every Lover in his rank dispose;
The little Herald, place for all prepares,
According to the quality of their cares.

She saw the Loves of all this numerous round,
Alike successful were, alike were pleas'd.
Their griefs by mutual kindness softned found;
Their discontents by joynt delight appeas'd.
All with fruition of their wishes crown'd;
All of their sorrows by each other eas'd.
She saw them in affection kindly strive,
And by exchange their happy passions thrive.

Happy indeed these present Lovers were;
But of the absent, bitter discontents,
In several shapes, were represented here;
Unequal aims, the diff'rent accidents,
Of Love, and Scorn, Temerity, and Fear:
Perplexed thoughts, expecting worse events;
And all the sad varieties of Fate,
Which on these disagreeing Lovers wait.

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Seeing so many of her own undon,
The Queen was mov'd with sence of their distress;
And since no other way was left to shun
The rigorous cause of their unhappiness,
Strait on an Embassy commands her Son;
And in this Language doth his Charge express;
Whilst, as she spake, the listning winds were chain'd
To her soft accents, Floods their Course restrain'd.

Son! thou art equally concern'd with Me,
In all mishaps that on our state depend:
Thou seest the harms our subjects suffer; Thee
To undeceive, and cure their Griefs, I send.
A world of fickle, faithless souls, there be,
Who to the sacred Name of Love pretend:
And what more then my wrongs my thoughts doth vex,
The blame of this, lies chiefly on our Sex.

Indifferent Lovers, loosely by the same
Affection, are at once, to many led:
Inconstant, treacherously their faith disclaim,
Their fleeting vows no sooner taught, then fled.
Ambitious Honour court, whose sickly flame
No longer lasts then by that fuel fed,
These coyness counterfeit, and those desire;
To stain my Name, and Credit, both conspire.

But some there are, who impiously protest
Against our Laws, and our just Power despise;
To Scorn, and Pride, are votaries profest:
And o're their fellow subjects tyrannize.

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These will infect, if not in time supprest,
Our pure Religion with black Heresies.
These, whom in vain it were with force t'invade,
By Reason bend, and in these words perswade.

Fair Rebels! who your lawful King depose,
And fondly your Allegiance cast away;
To give admittance to his mortal Foes;
And in his room Disdain and Pride obey:
'Tis Love, who Beauty on the Fair bestows:
Tribute to Love, the Fair are bound to pay:
Him, who your beings gave, you would destroy,
And 'gainst himself, the arms he lent imploy.

This Deity, whose sacred Name you slight,
Is Master of Content, commands all Pleasure;
Will entertain you still with new Delight,
More joyes, then howrs, your happy lives shall measure;
'Tis justice to your selves, to do him right;
No other way left to secure your Treasure.
Bold Time will force the Prize for which Love sues,
And rob you of the wealth you would not use.

Strict punishment, besides, you must expect
From the just Powers you impiously incense:
They your contempt severely will correct,
In others to prevent the like offence.
Your Prayers, too late presented, will reject;
No vows, no tears, shall with their rage dispence,
Choose then the safe, if not the pleasing state,
Reward attends your Love, Revenge your Hate.

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This said, a general shout past through the throng;
In which, her subjects their applause declare.
Her Chariot then she mounts, and all along,
Scatters rich Perfumes, through the ambient air.
Thousands of Loves wait on her with a Song;
All to her Court with equal Joy repair.
There every Lover his delight renews;
Whilst her glad Son, his Mothers Charge pursues.