Pia Desideria or, Divine Addresses, In Three Books. Illustrated with XLVII. Copper-Plates. Written in Latin by Herm. Hugo. Englished by Edm. Arwaker ... The Fourth Edition, Corrected |
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 | Pia Desideria |  |
133
XII.
Saw you him whom my Soul loveth? It was but a little that I past from them, but I found him
whom my Soul loveth: I held him, and wou'd not let him go,
Cant. iii. 3, 4.
Is there a Corner left in all the Town,
Which in my weary Search I have not known?
With flaming Torches every Street was Light,
Nor did I ev'n the meanest Allies slight.
Alas! what Ground did I not Travel o're,
Till even the City had not any more?
But why shou'd I this fruitless Toil approve,
Since all my seeking does not find my Love?
Then, hopeless, back my pensive Course I steer'd,
But still no Tidings of my Lover heard;
When I at last approach'd the City-gate,
Where a strong Guard in constant Watch did wait:
Said I Perhaps my Love is hidden here:
And then I ask'd them if they saw my Dear?
They Laugh'd, and my Enquiry did deride,
And who's your Love? One of the Centries cry'd:
Has he no Name by which he may he known?
How can we tell, since you have giv'n us none?
Excuse, said I, my rude Simplicity,
I thought him known to all the World, as Me:
And that our Love, so much the talk of Fame,
Had made it needless to declare his Name;
And tho' you wou'd pretend this Ign'rance now,
I'm Confident you cannot chuse but know:
Then pray be pleas'd in Earnest to declare
If you have seen him lately passing here:
Him, whom above my Life I dearly Prize,
And him who loves me more than his own Eyes?
Say, when he went, what Stay he made with you,
And whither he pretended he wou'd go?
Unto the Right or Left-hand is he gone?
Or had he Company, or was h' alone?
The sportful Watch, regardless of my Cares,
Answer with Laughter, and deride my Tears.
From them I go, hopeless my Love to find,
Whiles Tides of Grief o'rewhelm'd my sinking Mind.
But while my Soul such painful Thoughts imploy,
(Nor dar'd I let it hope so vast a Joy:)
My Love, the same I sought the City round,
Now, unexpected and unsought, was found.
Which in my weary Search I have not known?
With flaming Torches every Street was Light,
Nor did I ev'n the meanest Allies slight.
Alas! what Ground did I not Travel o're,
Till even the City had not any more?
But why shou'd I this fruitless Toil approve,
Since all my seeking does not find my Love?
Then, hopeless, back my pensive Course I steer'd,
But still no Tidings of my Lover heard;
When I at last approach'd the City-gate,
Where a strong Guard in constant Watch did wait:
Said I Perhaps my Love is hidden here:
And then I ask'd them if they saw my Dear?
They Laugh'd, and my Enquiry did deride,
And who's your Love? One of the Centries cry'd:
134
How can we tell, since you have giv'n us none?
Excuse, said I, my rude Simplicity,
I thought him known to all the World, as Me:
And that our Love, so much the talk of Fame,
Had made it needless to declare his Name;
And tho' you wou'd pretend this Ign'rance now,
I'm Confident you cannot chuse but know:
Then pray be pleas'd in Earnest to declare
If you have seen him lately passing here:
Him, whom above my Life I dearly Prize,
And him who loves me more than his own Eyes?
Say, when he went, what Stay he made with you,
And whither he pretended he wou'd go?
Unto the Right or Left-hand is he gone?
Or had he Company, or was h' alone?
The sportful Watch, regardless of my Cares,
Answer with Laughter, and deride my Tears.
From them I go, hopeless my Love to find,
Whiles Tides of Grief o'rewhelm'd my sinking Mind.
But while my Soul such painful Thoughts imploy,
(Nor dar'd I let it hope so vast a Joy:)
My Love, the same I sought the City round,
Now, unexpected and unsought, was found.
135
Lost between Joy and Fear in the Surprize,
I durst not well give credit to my Eyes.
And have I thee again? I wou'd have cry'd,
But as I strove, my faultring Tongue deny'd.
As when some mournful Wife sees by her Bed
Her Husband long by Fame reported Dead;
Amaz'd to meet what she had giv'n for lost,
She flies his Arms, and takes him for a Ghost:
Nor dares, till his known Voice the Truth assure,
The Sight of what she most desires, endure:
And still she fears lest she too easie prove,
Betray'd to this Credulity by Love.
Thus while I trembling stand, again I try;
Again my Life salutes my joyful Eye.
Toss'd between Doubt, and Hope, and Love, and Fear,
Are you my Love, I cry, or in his Shape appear?
My Dear! — ah no! alas! you are not He;
Yet sure you are — Yes, yes, you are, I see.
My Love, My Life, I see and know you now,
My secret Ecstacy discovers you.
Pleas'd with your Voice, and ravish'd with your Face,
I fly uncall'd to your belov'd Embrace.
Thus, thus I'll bind you to me, and prevent
A second Search, the Soldiers Merriment.
O that my Arms were Chains, and each part else,
Feet, Hands and all, were Gyves and Manacles!
Then with a triple Band my Love I'd bind,
Close as the Elm is by the Vine entwin'd;
The snaky Ivy shou'd not closer crawl
About the Ruines of its dear lov'd Wall.
And while my busie Hands your Neck enclose,
Think that no Burthen which their Kindness shows!
Remember, Love, you have been absent long,
And Time that did it must repair the wrong:
But of the Recompence you soon complain,
And e'er my Joys begin, are gone again.
But stay! ah too unkind, ungrateful! stay!
Nor shall you fly, unless you force your way.
I durst not well give credit to my Eyes.
And have I thee again? I wou'd have cry'd,
But as I strove, my faultring Tongue deny'd.
As when some mournful Wife sees by her Bed
Her Husband long by Fame reported Dead;
Amaz'd to meet what she had giv'n for lost,
She flies his Arms, and takes him for a Ghost:
Nor dares, till his known Voice the Truth assure,
The Sight of what she most desires, endure:
And still she fears lest she too easie prove,
Betray'd to this Credulity by Love.
Thus while I trembling stand, again I try;
Again my Life salutes my joyful Eye.
Toss'd between Doubt, and Hope, and Love, and Fear,
Are you my Love, I cry, or in his Shape appear?
My Dear! — ah no! alas! you are not He;
Yet sure you are — Yes, yes, you are, I see.
My Love, My Life, I see and know you now,
My secret Ecstacy discovers you.
Pleas'd with your Voice, and ravish'd with your Face,
I fly uncall'd to your belov'd Embrace.
Thus, thus I'll bind you to me, and prevent
A second Search, the Soldiers Merriment.
O that my Arms were Chains, and each part else,
Feet, Hands and all, were Gyves and Manacles!
136
Close as the Elm is by the Vine entwin'd;
The snaky Ivy shou'd not closer crawl
About the Ruines of its dear lov'd Wall.
And while my busie Hands your Neck enclose,
Think that no Burthen which their Kindness shows!
Remember, Love, you have been absent long,
And Time that did it must repair the wrong:
But of the Recompence you soon complain,
And e'er my Joys begin, are gone again.
But stay! ah too unkind, ungrateful! stay!
Nor shall you fly, unless you force your way.
137
When I had found him, I held him so much the faster, by how much the longer I was in finding him.
Beda in Cant. cap. 3.
| Pia Desideria | |