 | Translations and Poems Written on Several Subjects |  |
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EMILIA:
OR POEMS Sacred To Conjugal Love.
Felices ter & ampliùs
Quos irrupta tenet copula; nec malis
Divulsa querimoniis
Suprema citius solvet amor die.
Hor.
Quos irrupta tenet copula; nec malis
Divulsa querimoniis
Suprema citius solvet amor die.
Hor.
Hail wedded Love! mysierious Law! true Source
Of humane Offspring, sole Propriety
In Paradise, of all Things common else
Founded in Reason, loyal, just and pure.
Here Love his golden Shafts employs, here lights
His constant Lamp, and waves his purple Wings,
Here reigns and revels! —
Milton.
Of humane Offspring, sole Propriety
In Paradise, of all Things common else
Founded in Reason, loyal, just and pure.
Here Love his golden Shafts employs, here lights
His constant Lamp, and waves his purple Wings,
Here reigns and revels! —
Milton.
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To Emilia on her Recovery
EPISTLE. I.
Te spectem, suprema cum mihi venerit hora,
Te teneam moriens deficiente manu.
Ovid.
Te teneam moriens deficiente manu.
Ovid.
Late did Alphonso sunk in silent Woe,
His fond Concern for fair Emilia show;
Pensive within the shady Grove he sate,
Revolving in his Thought thy doubtful Fate;
In wasting Pangs he lingred out the Day,
In Sighs he pass'd the restless Night away;
Oft to High Heav'n his ardent Vows addrest,
To spare that Life in which his own was blest;
To save from cruel Death such lovely Charms,
And give Emilia to her Lover's Arms.
His fond Concern for fair Emilia show;
Pensive within the shady Grove he sate,
Revolving in his Thought thy doubtful Fate;
In wasting Pangs he lingred out the Day,
In Sighs he pass'd the restless Night away;
Oft to High Heav'n his ardent Vows addrest,
To spare that Life in which his own was blest;
To save from cruel Death such lovely Charms,
And give Emilia to her Lover's Arms.
So pray'd th' enamour'd Youth, nor pray'd in vain,
Thy Life and his Repose restor'd again
With Joy he saw, — such as till that blest Hour
Had never fill'd his ravish'd Soul before!
Thy Life and his Repose restor'd again
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Had never fill'd his ravish'd Soul before!
Oh had the Muse the softly-moving Art,
To speak the Transports of his tender Heart;
With Pleasure shouldst thou read, and smiling see,
How much his every Thought is fix'd on thee!
To speak the Transports of his tender Heart;
With Pleasure shouldst thou read, and smiling see,
How much his every Thought is fix'd on thee!
Were I the Subject World's unrival'd Lord,
By purpled Slaves with servile Dread ador'd;
Or were I Monarch o'er a willing Land,
Where Love and Duty gave the High Command;
The Joys (depriv'd of thee) a Throne could give,
Were in magnificent Despair to live!
To wear conceal'd Distress within my Breast,
And blessing all, to be my self unblest.
By purpled Slaves with servile Dread ador'd;
Or were I Monarch o'er a willing Land,
Where Love and Duty gave the High Command;
The Joys (depriv'd of thee) a Throne could give,
Were in magnificent Despair to live!
To wear conceal'd Distress within my Breast,
And blessing all, to be my self unblest.
Well pleas'd with Thee thro' Desarts could I str
And search in pathless Wilds my doubtful Way;
Thro' dreary Wastes delighted could I rove,
Nor think of Danger, while inspir'd by Love:
Thy lovely Sight would every Pain allay,
And ease the Labours of the toilsome Day.
And search in pathless Wilds my doubtful Way;
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Nor think of Danger, while inspir'd by Love:
Thy lovely Sight would every Pain allay,
And ease the Labours of the toilsome Day.
With thee, tho' set beneath the scorching Line,
Where unallay'd the burning Splendors shine;
Tho' on my Brow the Beams collected beat,
I'd bear the Noon-Day Gleam, the glowing Heat,
Thy Presence should the dreadful March beguile,
At thy Approach the barren Desart smile;
Around thy Steps the cooling Zephyrs play,
And cheek the Ardors of the Sultry Day.
Where unallay'd the burning Splendors shine;
Tho' on my Brow the Beams collected beat,
I'd bear the Noon-Day Gleam, the glowing Heat,
Thy Presence should the dreadful March beguile,
At thy Approach the barren Desart smile;
Around thy Steps the cooling Zephyrs play,
And cheek the Ardors of the Sultry Day.
Or with Emilia plac'd beneath the Pole
Where distant Suns their useless Courses roll;
Where Chrystal Rocks reflect a mimic Light,
And the Day shines uncomfortably bright;
Where the bleak Eye no friendly Verdure chears,
But one eternal Mass of Ice appears;
Where half the Year unrival'd Darkness reigns,
And folds in gloomy Night the frozen Plains;
Possess'd of Thee, I would not once complain,
Endure the Cold, nor feel a Thought of Pain;
Thy Charms would chase the guilty Shades away,
And those bright Eyes create a milder Day.
Where distant Suns their useless Courses roll;
Where Chrystal Rocks reflect a mimic Light,
And the Day shines uncomfortably bright;
Where the bleak Eye no friendly Verdure chears,
But one eternal Mass of Ice appears;
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And folds in gloomy Night the frozen Plains;
Possess'd of Thee, I would not once complain,
Endure the Cold, nor feel a Thought of Pain;
Thy Charms would chase the guilty Shades away,
And those bright Eyes create a milder Day.
Blest in thy Constancy and tender Love,
Far from the faithless World would I remove;
With thee explore some lonely soft Retreat,
And fix for ever in the peaceful Seat.
There all-contented in our humble Cell,
Far from Life's busy Cares sequester'd dwell:
Where, after Years in fond Endearments past,
Still like thy Goodness, should my Passion last:
When on thy Cheeks the Roses sate no more,
Still would I gaze, as fondly as before;
Still keep unchang'd, the generous, faithful Flame,
My Breast unalter'd, and its Warmth the same:
With new Delight survey thy better Charms,
And fold thee gently in my ravish'd Arms:
Still court the Mistress, while I lov'd the Wife,
And keep my Passion till I lost my Life.
Far from the faithless World would I remove;
With thee explore some lonely soft Retreat,
And fix for ever in the peaceful Seat.
There all-contented in our humble Cell,
Far from Life's busy Cares sequester'd dwell:
Where, after Years in fond Endearments past,
Still like thy Goodness, should my Passion last:
When on thy Cheeks the Roses sate no more,
Still would I gaze, as fondly as before;
Still keep unchang'd, the generous, faithful Flame,
My Breast unalter'd, and its Warmth the same:
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And fold thee gently in my ravish'd Arms:
Still court the Mistress, while I lov'd the Wife,
And keep my Passion till I lost my Life.
Such as thou art, — such should that Passion be;
Gay as thy Wit, and as thy Temper free;
True as your Heart, engaging as your Grace,
Soft as your Air, and lovely as your Face;
By Time improv'd it should become more Strong,
And fix'd upon your Virtue, last as long.
Gay as thy Wit, and as thy Temper free;
True as your Heart, engaging as your Grace,
Soft as your Air, and lovely as your Face;
By Time improv'd it should become more Strong,
And fix'd upon your Virtue, last as long.
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To the SAME,
EPISTLE II.
Flammas moveoque feroque.
Ovid.
Ovid.
Say
Thou, whose lovely Charms my Soul inspire,
And fill my wishing Breast with fond Desire;
If thy soft Bosom feel an equal Smart,
And Absence hangs upon thy tender Heart?
Oh think what Anguish must his Mind employ,
Who wants with Thee, soft Peace and balmy Joy.
Think what distracting Pains must rend his Breast,
Whose Days are tedious, and whose Nights unblest!
And fill my wishing Breast with fond Desire;
If thy soft Bosom feel an equal Smart,
And Absence hangs upon thy tender Heart?
Oh think what Anguish must his Mind employ,
Who wants with Thee, soft Peace and balmy Joy.
Think what distracting Pains must rend his Breast,
Whose Days are tedious, and whose Nights unblest!
Go ye sad Lines to dear Emilia's Hands,
And speak your sorrowing Master's sad Commands,
Tell how her absent fond Alphonso mourns,
Melts into Grief, and with soft Longings burns;
Tell of his Fate how strongly he complains,
Describe his Woe, and point out all his Pains;
Till the kind Charmer fly to bless his Sight,
Till her dear Presence fill him with Delight;
Restore his wounded Soul to Rest and Ease,
And charm the strugling Passions into Peace!
And speak your sorrowing Master's sad Commands,
Tell how her absent fond Alphonso mourns,
Melts into Grief, and with soft Longings burns;
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Describe his Woe, and point out all his Pains;
Till the kind Charmer fly to bless his Sight,
Till her dear Presence fill him with Delight;
Restore his wounded Soul to Rest and Ease,
And charm the strugling Passions into Peace!
Where'er I turn my melancholy View,
Some sad Idea bids me think on you:
If thro' the gloomy Grove I pensive stray,
Your lovely Image meets my silent Way;
If to the Flow'ry Meadow I repair,
Or the soft Stream, — Emilia still is there!
Still in my Heart triumphantly she reigns,
Nor Solitude it self can ease my Pains.
Some sad Idea bids me think on you:
If thro' the gloomy Grove I pensive stray,
Your lovely Image meets my silent Way;
If to the Flow'ry Meadow I repair,
Or the soft Stream, — Emilia still is there!
Still in my Heart triumphantly she reigns,
Nor Solitude it self can ease my Pains.
Nor can diverting Sights relieve my Woe,
Or the gay Circle, or the publick Show;
In vain to bright Assemblies I repair,
Or seek in Crowds to lose my secret Care:
Tho' round a thousand mingling Beauties blaze,
In distant Lands my wand'ring Fancy strays;
My absent Mind on Glotta's Borders roves
And seeks Emilia thro' the neighb'ring Groves.
Or the gay Circle, or the publick Show;
In vain to bright Assemblies I repair,
Or seek in Crowds to lose my secret Care:
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In distant Lands my wand'ring Fancy strays;
My absent Mind on Glotta's Borders roves
And seeks Emilia thro' the neighb'ring Groves.
Fly swift ye tedious Hours! till the glad Day
Approaching smile, and bid me haste away.
Then may the Heav'ns their kindest Influence shed,
With prosperous Gales the swelling Canvas spread,
Till Thy fair Native Land shall greet my Sight,
And all my Soul shall feel the soft Delight:
Thence smiling Years their happy Rounds shall move,
And all our Days be Peace, and Nights be Love.
Approaching smile, and bid me haste away.
Then may the Heav'ns their kindest Influence shed,
With prosperous Gales the swelling Canvas spread,
Till Thy fair Native Land shall greet my Sight,
And all my Soul shall feel the soft Delight:
Thence smiling Years their happy Rounds shall move,
And all our Days be Peace, and Nights be Love.
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To the SAME.
EPISTLE III.
O tantum libeat mecum tibi sordida rura
Atque humiles babitare casas!
Virg.
Atque humiles babitare casas!
Virg.
From these soft Scenes the Muse's blest Retreat,
(Wert thou but here to make the Bliss compleat!)
From Flowry Meads, and Groves for ever green,
And winding Streams that grace the Sylvan Scene;
I write — of nought but Anguish and Despair,
Of fatal Absence and relentless Care!
Oh could'st thou know the ceaseless Pangs I prove;
All that I feel from Absence and from Love:
Thou sure would'st Pity such combin'd Distress,
Share half my Griefs, and sharing make them less.
(Wert thou but here to make the Bliss compleat!)
From Flowry Meads, and Groves for ever green,
And winding Streams that grace the Sylvan Scene;
I write — of nought but Anguish and Despair,
Of fatal Absence and relentless Care!
Oh could'st thou know the ceaseless Pangs I prove;
All that I feel from Absence and from Love:
Thou sure would'st Pity such combin'd Distress,
Share half my Griefs, and sharing make them less.
Strange is my Fate, and vain my wish'd Delight,
While Nature fades before my sick'ning Sight;
And like a wounded Deer, where'er I go,
I bear about the Dart, and feel the Woe.
At every Turn thy hapless Loss I prove,
Join'd with the Smart of still increasing Love:
If to the Vales or Lawns I sondly go,
To shady Coverts, or to Streams that flow,
These Scenes no more their wonted Graces wear,
Nor Woods my Eye, nor Streams delight my Ear;
In vain does Nature spread her chearful Green,
And bounteous vary the delightful Scene,
While I of all her happy Sons the last,
Am doom'd no more her common Joys to taste:
But like an Outcast wander here alone,
From thee divided, hopeless, and undone!
While Nature fades before my sick'ning Sight;
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I bear about the Dart, and feel the Woe.
At every Turn thy hapless Loss I prove,
Join'd with the Smart of still increasing Love:
If to the Vales or Lawns I sondly go,
To shady Coverts, or to Streams that flow,
These Scenes no more their wonted Graces wear,
Nor Woods my Eye, nor Streams delight my Ear;
In vain does Nature spread her chearful Green,
And bounteous vary the delightful Scene,
While I of all her happy Sons the last,
Am doom'd no more her common Joys to taste:
But like an Outcast wander here alone,
From thee divided, hopeless, and undone!
And yet thou say'st I love not? — Come and see
If ever Wretch despairing lov'd like me!
If any Object like thy self could charm,
If Pow'r or Riches could my Wishes warm,—
Or more, — if my fond Soul could find a Bliss,
In such a gentle Solitude as this
Absent from thee. — Then take my forfeit Breath,
Confirm me wretched, and pronounce my Death!
If ever Wretch despairing lov'd like me!
If any Object like thy self could charm,
If Pow'r or Riches could my Wishes warm,—
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In such a gentle Solitude as this
Absent from thee. — Then take my forfeit Breath,
Confirm me wretched, and pronounce my Death!
Emilia best of Women! Consort dear!
How shall I speak a Passion so sincere;
That while I feel its Force, I cannot paint,
Sense is too weak — and Language is too faint!
How shall I speak a Passion so sincere;
That while I feel its Force, I cannot paint,
Sense is too weak — and Language is too faint!
If all unfeign'd, these artless Numbers flow,
If my fond Soul with real Passion glow;
Grant gentle Heav'n! at length my long-sought Rest,
And lay me ravish'd on Emilia's Breast;
There let me gaze o'er all her lovely Charms,
Blest in her Smiles, and folded in her Arms;
In Love dissolv'd, my wonted Peace regain,
Indulge the Transport, and forget the Pain!
If my fond Soul with real Passion glow;
Grant gentle Heav'n! at length my long-sought Rest,
And lay me ravish'd on Emilia's Breast;
There let me gaze o'er all her lovely Charms,
Blest in her Smiles, and folded in her Arms;
In Love dissolv'd, my wonted Peace regain,
Indulge the Transport, and forget the Pain!
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So sung in artless Notes, the am'rous Swain,
Near Birga's Bank, extended on the Plain;
Thus told he to its Waves his Love-sick Care,
And spoke thy Name to every Object there!
Thy Name along the winding Borders play'd,
Thy Name resounded thro' the silent Shade!
Wert thou but here to crown the rural Scene,
The Loves and Graces would adore their Queen!
Guard and attend thee as thy Footsteps move,
Lead o'er the Plain, or watch thee in the Grove;
If o'er the verdant Lawns thou chuse to stray,
See the Fawns wait thee and direct the Way!
If to the cooling Shades thou rather bend,
Behold the Dryades thy Beck attend!
Extend their Leafy Arms above thy Head,
Beneath thy Feet the Flow'ry Carpet spread!
If to refreshing Streams you take the Way,
See the loose Naiades around you play,
In circling Mazes wander thro' the Ground,
And in their watry Arms infold you round!
Hear how the Woodland Choristers delight,
And Nature smiles before thy ravish'd Sight;
To joy thy Heart with Innocence and Peace,
Thy Senfe to ravish, and thy Soul to bless!
Near Birga's Bank, extended on the Plain;
Thus told he to its Waves his Love-sick Care,
And spoke thy Name to every Object there!
Thy Name along the winding Borders play'd,
Thy Name resounded thro' the silent Shade!
Wert thou but here to crown the rural Scene,
The Loves and Graces would adore their Queen!
Guard and attend thee as thy Footsteps move,
Lead o'er the Plain, or watch thee in the Grove;
If o'er the verdant Lawns thou chuse to stray,
See the Fawns wait thee and direct the Way!
If to the cooling Shades thou rather bend,
Behold the Dryades thy Beck attend!
Extend their Leafy Arms above thy Head,
Beneath thy Feet the Flow'ry Carpet spread!
If to refreshing Streams you take the Way,
See the loose Naiades around you play,
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And in their watry Arms infold you round!
Hear how the Woodland Choristers delight,
And Nature smiles before thy ravish'd Sight;
To joy thy Heart with Innocence and Peace,
Thy Senfe to ravish, and thy Soul to bless!
To the SAME.
EPISTLE IV.
Tecum vivere amem,
Tecum obeam lubens.
Hor.
Tecum obeam lubens.
Hor.
From these fair Shores, where Thames majestic glides,
And proudly rolls along his Silver Tides;
Where all around inchanting Prospects rise,
And Art and Nature lure the ravish'd Eyes;
To thee once more these Numbers are addrest,
Eternal Mistress of this faithful Breast!
And proudly rolls along his Silver Tides;
Where all around inchanting Prospects rise,
And Art and Nature lure the ravish'd Eyes;
To thee once more these Numbers are addrest,
Eternal Mistress of this faithful Breast!
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But oh Emilia! how shall I impart,
That lively Passion that inflames my Heart?
Where Love and Gratitude and Friendship join
To bind my Soul, and fix me ever thine!
That lively Passion that inflames my Heart?
Where Love and Gratitude and Friendship join
To bind my Soul, and fix me ever thine!
In these dear Shades, these ever verdant Seats,
These pleasing Bow'rs and ravishing Retreats:
How do I count the tedious Moments o'er,
Lament thy Absence, and my Loss deplore!
While sondly quitting Life's delusive Show,
Dull Crowds of Care, and splendid Scenes of Woe,
I pass in Ease the Evening-Hour away,
And lose the Image of the noisy Day.
While the fair Stream, and fairer Sky delight,
And Smoke and Buildings vanish from my Sight.
These pleasing Bow'rs and ravishing Retreats:
How do I count the tedious Moments o'er,
Lament thy Absence, and my Loss deplore!
While sondly quitting Life's delusive Show,
Dull Crowds of Care, and splendid Scenes of Woe,
I pass in Ease the Evening-Hour away,
And lose the Image of the noisy Day.
While the fair Stream, and fairer Sky delight,
And Smoke and Buildings vanish from my Sight.
Here too my busy Fancy pleas'd, explores
Thy distant Charms, and runs thy Beauties o'er;
Recounts thy Virtues, and delighted roves
Thro' every pleafing Passage of our Loves:
And sees at once thy Person and thy Mind,
The fairest Model of thy lovely Kind.
Thy distant Charms, and runs thy Beauties o'er;
Recounts thy Virtues, and delighted roves
Thro' every pleafing Passage of our Loves:
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The fairest Model of thy lovely Kind.
As never Woman has deserv'd like thee,
So never Lover ever lov'd like me!
All Words can speak, or Fancy Form is poor,
Judge by your Heart, — and think how I adore!
So never Lover ever lov'd like me!
All Words can speak, or Fancy Form is poor,
Judge by your Heart, — and think how I adore!
Oh fly, ye lingring Hours, and bring the Day,
When wing'd with Transport I shall take my Way,
When happy Fortune every Bar shall move,
That stops my Passage to the Fair I love;
[Thy Image six'd within my panting View,
My Love shall aid, to make the Vision true:]
Till wak'd to Life, and folded in your Arms,
Lost in a soft Variety of Charms,
My Fate absolv'd — I shall no more complain,
“But own that Hour was worth whole Years of Pain.”
When wing'd with Transport I shall take my Way,
When happy Fortune every Bar shall move,
That stops my Passage to the Fair I love;
[Thy Image six'd within my panting View,
My Love shall aid, to make the Vision true:]
Till wak'd to Life, and folded in your Arms,
Lost in a soft Variety of Charms,
My Fate absolv'd — I shall no more complain,
“But own that Hour was worth whole Years of Pain.”
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Anniversary ODE,
sacred to the Memory OF A DAUGHTER.
Ob. An. 1726.
------ Animamque Nepotis
His saltem adcumulem donis, & fungar inani
Munere. ------
Virg.
His saltem adcumulem donis, & fungar inani
Munere. ------
Virg.
I
Begin my Muse, and strike the Lyre,Let Grief the melting Notes inspire!
And sadly consecrate the Day,
That snatch'd my Soul's Delight away!
II
When first the beauteous Infant Maid,The early Seeds of Sense display'd,
With her dear Prattle sooth'd my Cares,
And charm'd my fond transported Ears.
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III
How did her op'ning Bloom arise,And as it struck my ravish'd Eyes!
Oft promis'd to my Years increase
A Store of Innocence and Peace.
IV
But soon! too soon these flattering Joys,Fate's interposing Hand destroys;
And lost in Death's all-gloomy Shade,
The dear delusive Vision fled.
V
So does the early-budding Rose,Its blushing Fragrancy disclose,
Allure the Touch and Smell and Sight,
And yield each Sense a soft Delight.
VI
Till some rash Foe its Pride invade,And ravish'd from its native Bed,
Its Odour and its Hue decay,
And all its Beauties fade away.
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VII
Thus were my Dreams of Comfort crost,And with the Fav'rite-Virgin lost;
And all my Schemes of Bliss to come,
Inclos'd within her early Tomb!
VIII
Thence Clouds of new Afflictions rise,And brooding o'er the darken'd Skies;
With their sad melancholly Shade,
The Horizon of Life o'erspread.
IX
While o'er the young Sabina's Urn,Thus with Paternal Grief I mourn:
Around my Soul new Sorrows break,
And leave my Woes no Room to speak.—
X
On Atticus' delightful Age,Fate next employed his cruel Rage;
With Ease dissolv'd Life's feeble Chain,
And freed the suff'ring Saint from Pain.
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XI
O Ever honour'd sacred Name!If in the bright Immortal Train,
One Thought of Earth can touch thy Rest,
Look down on this afflicted Breast.
XII
Teach me like thee, thro' Life to steer,Patient and calm my Lot to bear;
Teach me thy heav'nly Steps to trace,
And reach like thee the Realms of Peace!
FINIS.
| Translations and Poems Written on Several Subjects | |