University of Virginia Library

FILLIS and the Nightingale.

Rare charming Voice! but [O] how rare
Breath'd by that She so only fair!
Whose face and bodies beauties be
Compos'd with so rare Symmetry
(Heavens choice design) so sweetly accorded,
One Heavenly Consort all afforded;
And were the Harmony o'th Eye,
Seem'd Natures silent Melody:
Nere man so doubly-blest; th'eye, ear!
Record it Love, twas only here.
Each trembling Noat those Corals wrought
(VVhen born) seem'd swaddled, wrapt methought,
And (as soon dying) Embalm'd within
So sweet breath, as perfum'd 't had been;
Came flying in a precious air
Of Odors, 'bove Arabian far:
The same sweet noats you would have deemd
The several souls of Musick seemd;
VVhilst the whole Song rare sweetst compound,
VVherein th'Ear's Sugar, Sytrop found.
O could I've caught and kept alive
Those precious sounds beyond reprive
Those Spirits of Sweetness as they flye,
So t'have had constant Melody;
Nay Phillis self still by me in those:
Her Breath, preserv'd and relick'd close
Had serv'd for soveraign protection
Gainst poys'nous Plagues, and all infection.
If that fam'd Harp, could Rivers cause
To stand at wanton gaze and pause;
Beasts, stubborn Rocks, and burly Trees,
Made dance in Antique Revels thess;
Her voice must greater Magick prove
And make them court her fall in Love.
VVhile Fillis breath'd and clos'd her song,
Behold a pritty vvonder sprung;
Th'ambitious Nightingale replyd,
Through pertest emulations pride;
[Chief Chorister I 'th feathered Court
To th'Royal Eagle fam'd] in sport
VVould sing her part, and nimbly runs
Her fine-poiz'd quaint Divisions:
Novv Fillis, then the Nightingale,
Novv she then she, vvhich should prevail:
The Chirper falls to earnest novv,
No more must jesting strains allovv:
Tis sober Duel, no idle play,
Sharp brest-concention for the day:
Till the poor Bird presumes still higher,
As life vvould forfeit and expire.
VVhich pittying, I vvas fain to intreat
Her softer heart vvould make retreat,
And end the dangerous strife so nigh
By yeelding a false Victory:
This quarrel must not the loss prove
Of such a voice to th'Spring and Grove:
Her Mercy rather should reprive
[Double honors Trophie] keep alive.
VVhen loth to stifle yet my blisses,
I silenc'd those svveet lips vvith Kisses:
Though but th'ears airy joyes transfer'd
To th'solid touch; so, sav'd the Bird.