The Works of Mr. Robert Gould In Two Volumes. Consisting of those Poems [and] Satyrs Which were formerly Printed, and Corrected since by the Author; As also of the many more which He Design'd for the Press. Publish'd from his Own Original Copies [by Robert Gould] |
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Mirtillo and Amynta:
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 | The Works of Mr. Robert Gould |  |
406
Mirtillo and Amynta:
A Hymeneal Pindarick Poem, On the Marriage of James Hunt Esq; with Madam Jane Cary.
I.
'Wake, sluggish Muse, from thy Lethargick Sleep,Thy downy Nest no longer keep;
The Lark is up, and on extended Wings
Still as she rises sweetlier sings;
Let her aspiring Melody
O sluggish Muse! thy Great Example be,
Follow her thro' the trackless Air;
Her Song does but the Way to Thine prepare:
And when Y'ave overtook Her do not stay,
But higher wing Your wond'ring way
Above the Clouds, above
The Second Heav'n, up to the Third of LOVE:
There see what Flame 'tis does inspire
The Am'rous Warmth of soft Desire,
A Lambent, but Eternal Fire!
Where the first Seeds of Inclination ly
That come at last to grow so high,
Or in the Fancy, Beauty, or the Eye:
Then thou may'st tell how fair Amynta struck
Mirtillo with a Look,
407
And how he smil'd at the Delightful Pain;
(For Oh! what Youth at such a Wound wou'd grieve
Tho' sure he shou'd but one short Moment live?)
He smil'd, and at that very interview
His Eye return'd the Shaft, and wounded her that threw.
O Pleasing War! O equal Doom!
Where both did Conquer, both were overcome!
It will not so at all Times be,
Anon she will sole Victor prove,
And make him Yield who now exults and Triumps in her Love.
II.
Two Hearts more equal Fate did never Pair,Heav'n in their Forming had unusual Care!
It's finest and Celestial Mold it took
And with a Gracious Look
Mingl'd the Shining Ore, and thus benignly spoke:
These Two we make for One;
They must be each the Others, or they both are None.
Let Courser Stuff from Heav'n drop down,
Of our Æthereal Dust th'Allay,
Scarce fit to Animate their Clay;
There let 'em make their own Precarious Fate,
In Scorning soon, or Loviag late;
We These for their own selves Create:
In vain the Nymph all other Swains shall see,
As much in vain shall He
All other Nymphs behold,
Tho' fair as those of old
That quarrell'd for the Shining Ball of Gold.
Love shall not shoot into their Breast his Fires,
His Pleasing Fears, Emotions, and Desires,
Till they each other chance to view,
Then Sympathy at once the Work shall do.
408
“At several Doors into the Room,
“Their Am'rous Lights one Light does grow;
“And they, as closely joyn'd, shall so
“To an Inseparable Union go;
One from the First ev'n to the End;
And one at last (tho' late) they hither shall ascend.
III.
From thy vast height (O Muse) tho' not descry'd so far,Dart like a shooting Star:
But not, like that, let all that's in Thee Bright
Be wasted in the Glaring Flight,
But hold out still a lasting Globe of Light.
Thou now art here, and now thou'rt there,
And now tak'st Circles in the Air,
And now strait on dost fly
Beyond the Narrow Limits of the Sky;
Nor Space, nor Place can bound thy vast Career.
What e'er thy dull Detractors may Decree
That have no tast of Poesie,
Thou hast the Gift of Prophesie,
Divine, and Future Things you see,
And all is Visible to Thee.
Into the Seeds of Time you look and show
Which Grain will Perish, which will grow.
The Heart, which from it's Self is hid,
Cannot thy piercing Search forbid;
From Thought to Thought thou on dost pass,
And see'st 'em all, as in a Glass.
Nor Bolts nor Locks thy Passage can impede,
Thro' all thou go'st with Angel's Speed,
As easie and as free
As in wide Air the wanton Swallows flee.
409
IV.
'Tis not the Curtains, then, where fair Amynta liesCan veil her from thy Eyes—
They're drawn!—and see! O see! and Object that wou'd turn
Old Age to Youth, and make the Icy Hermit burn.
Her Head upon her Hand she leans,
Hands whiter than the Paphian Queens!
Her Figure wou'd more Ardor move,
And sooner give the Law to Love;
Sleep has not yet unloos'd his Golden Bands,
Loth to let go his sacred Hold;
For, to his Sorrow, soon, he understands,
Another must enfold
The Beauty in his Arms,
And from her Lovely Eyes expel his Pow'rful Charms.
Sleep must not then approach too nigh;
Before he might, Indulgent to their Ease,
Study new Arts to please;
Let him not, then, upon their Senses seize,
And rudely lock up all;
Then let him come not till the Lovers call:
Nor let him, when he's come, so churlish be
As to deny the Mind it's Liberty;
That Fancy may repeat the Pleasure past,
Husband it well, and make it longer last,
For waking Joy, alas! does flit away too fast.
V.
Here, Roving Muse, a while thy Wonder six;And while this Brightest of her Sex
Lies bathing in Seraphick Dreams,
Think in what Rapture, what Extremes
410
Unseen like Thee, and gazing on the FAIR.
The Colour in his Cheeks wou'd come and go,
Doubt with Desire, and Fear with Joy contend,
His Pulse wou'd swifter beat, his Blood wou'd higher flow;
And he wou'd speak much more than I dare apprehend.
Suspend, dear Youth, those Thoughts till soon,
Till Twelve at Night the Bridegroom's Noon;
By that you'll to your bright Meridian climb,
By that be Lifted to your Prime:
O don't from thence retire
While there is Fewel to maintain the Fire!
O roll not down
Too soon
The Western Hill of soft Desire!
Hold the Reins hard, nor quit the Skies;
At least don't set till Heav'ns bright Lamp does rise.
VI.
But see! she 'wakes! and the Sun's Pow'rful Ray,But now so Lovely and so Gay,
Shrinks back and dies away;
Her brighter Eyes his Beams deface,
And fill with fresher Glories all the Place.
But Decency, the Lovers Law,
Does bid us here withdraw,
And leaves the Dam'sels to adorn
The Radiant Nymph, that so outshines the Morn.
Let meaner Shapes and meaner Faces
Practise in the Glass their Graces,
And with such Baits and trifling Arts
Ignobly Angle for their Lovers Hearts:
Amynta is above such Trivial Things,
And moves the Lover by Sublimer Springs:
411
Alike in Form, in Purity, and Fame,
And will hereafter be in Name.
That Dress which does a Cherub's Sweetness grace,
Can only add a greater Lustre to Amynta's Face.
VII.
Where is Mirtillo? where?The Nymph has done him wrong
To let him wait so long;
But soon a sure Revenge he'll take,
What e'er Resistance she can make,
And rifle the rich Cabinet, tho' barr'd up ne'er so strong.
But see! he comes! and in good Time he's here,
For now the chast Amynta does appear,
And on her Eye-lid hangs a Tear;
What does it now do there?
But Joy as well as Grief can bring
That Moisture from its Briny Spring.
Two Fountains from that Spring there go,
One for Pleasure, one for Woe,
Delight, like Pain, does oft unruly grow,
And in the Rapid Course its Banks o'erflow.
But now the Drop is fall'n, and in its Place
A Blush does mount the Face,
And adds to it one more Resistless Grace;
Tho' he that saw her just before,
Wou'd swear that Heav'n cou'd add no more.
Mirtillo sees her pleasing Care,
And his Instinctive Heart
In the Transporting Anguish has its Part:
Such Perfect Bliss Mortality has scarce the Power to bear,
Infirmity will enter there,
And in disorder'd Bounds of Joy appear:
412
Th'Impression such a vast Delight does give;
It is almost too bright to look upon and Live!
So pure a Love does oft o'er pow'r the Sense,
And tho' we fetch Desire and Vigor thence,
Makes us sometimes, resign to very Impotence.
Fixt on her Eyes, he cou'd for ever gaze!
But Time reproves these vain Delays,
And his own Genius whispers him—Be gone!—
Suggesting something Nobler coming on
In the dear Contemplation of Anon—
Anon! Anon!
VIII.
And now th'Auspicious Path they traceThat leads to a more near Embrace;
Where Gracious Hymen smiling stands,
As they their Hearts, to join their Hands;
Attended by a shining Train
Of many a Lovely Nymph, and many a Faithful Swain:
Each Lovely Nymph the Nymph wou'd be,
Each Faithful Swain wou'd fain be He,
But so confirm'd a Happiness they ne'er must hope to see:
Heav'n's Favourites on Earth are few,
(For Three that Triumph Thousands rue)
And they, on this Account, almost the first we knew.
Have you e'er seen a Night
When Cynthia put on all her Light?
The Stars themselves are then not bright,
But seem Eclips'd while she does fly
Her glorious Progress thro' th'Obsequious Sky.
As much above the rest does fair Aminta shew,
Nay above Cynthia too;
Aminta does not for her Lustre owe;
413
Her Glory's all her own,
And like the Sun's flows from it self alone,
A Sourse as Great, as Lasting, and Divine.
IX.
But while the Priest his Duty does attend,What better Work can be our Care,
Than begging Blessings to descend
Upon the Heads and Hearts of the new joining Pair?
May Wealth on their Left Hand,
And Health upon their Right,
Thro' a long Series smiling stand;
And still before their Sight
May nothing come but Prospects of Delight.
And that their Peace of Mind may never be
Betray'd by Infidelity,
By Frailty, or by Flattery,
To their Defence their Vertues stand prepar'd,
And INNOCENCE be Captain of the Guard:
Innocence! a safer Shield
Than fam'd ACHILLES e'er in Battle held,
Tho' still he came Triumphant from the Field—
Nay stop not, let us still bless on—
But see!—the Ceremony's done;
The dear, the Mystick Knot is ty'd:
Hail happy Bridegroom! Hail O Beaute'ous Bride!
Joy to you both, Joys thick upon you pour
Like Drops in a Prolifick April Show'r!
Now let the Bells and let the Spheres, too, Ring!
Let all above, and all around,
To Nature's utmost Bound,
The Joyful Tydings sound,
That all at once may hear, at once may Io Pæan sing!
414
X.
The Boards are furnish'd now in ev'ry Room,And back the Joyful Company are come.
What e'er the Elements produce,
(For Blessings are no Blessings without use)
Their Choicest Stores are now purvey'd,
And Tribute to Montano's Board is paid.
Well does he fill his Sacred Place,
As well perform the Father's part;
For no Man cou'd th'Occasion grace
With a more Gene'rous Heart.
Montano! whom the Vertuous Joy to Name,
The Church's Darling, and the Theme of Fame;
Wise, Nobly-born, Religious, and Benign,
His Nature, like his Office, all Divine:
And which is now no barren Praise
In these Degen'erate Days,
But will his Charity and Truth commend;
Kind to the Poor, and Constant to his Friend.
He does Redeem our Crimes, and show
What Man was long ago,
E'er Pride and Fraud, together joyn'd,
Usurpt the Empire of his Mind,
And turning it about, and fixing there,
Had made us the Reverse of what we were.
Upon this Copious Theme I shou'd dwell long,
Did not the Sprightly Business of the Day
To Sports and Revels hurry me away;
But he shall elsewhere be our Subject for Pindarick Song.
XI.
Now let the nimble Goblets move,A Health to Beauty, and a Health to Love;
415
Is all o'er Love, and all o'er Beauty, She,
But let it not go once about, and stay,
Or end with the Revolving Day,
But rather last till Time is roll'd away.
O for Anacreon's tuneful Lyre.
That on this Subject I might sing,
And drink, to keep like him on Wing,
(The soft Incentive to Desire)
Till I in ev'ry Soul did Love and Joy inspire!
But hark! the Musick to the Dance does Play,
And all the Nymphs are danc'd from hence away:
Come on then, Boys, and while their Feet
In smooth Harmonious Measures meet,
What ever graver Noddles think,
Let us keep Time, too, in our Drink;
And shew who can the nimblest prove,
Or we to Wine, or they to move.
Away—w'ave got the Start—ne'er mind
What they can do—nor look behind;
Run on—that is Drink on—nor fear to fall;
Ah Boys! w'ave got before 'em to the Goal;
And, see! the Bard that set out last has reach'd it first of all.
XII.
How Musick, Wine and Love, beguile the Hours!For the bright Sun is fled
Long since into his Watry Bed;
I hear the Bridegroom cry, 'tis Time we were in Ours.
Nor to the Virgins is the Hint in vain,
They'll now no longer be deny'd,
For Women know when Women feign;
So kindly force away the Linge'ring Bride.
416
As if she were in hast to be enjoy'd:
Ah! busy, busy, hasty Crew,
There's Time enough till Morn for all that Man can do.
But Trembling, Joyful; yet affraid,
Thanks to Mirtillo's Stars, at last she's laid.
The happy News he quickly hears,
And lively as the Day appears
To solve her Scruples, and remove her Fears.
T'undress him no Observance now be shown,
He needs no Hands at this Time but his own;
For see! he's with her, in his Arms
He has her fast, as she her Charms,
That Sanctuary now from all her future Harms.
Good Night! Good Night!—accept our Prayers
For a long Race of Prosperous Years—
W'ave done our Duty;—let 'em now do Theirs.
| The Works of Mr. Robert Gould | |