Mr. Cooke's Original Poems with Imitations and Translations of Several Select Passages of the Antients, In Four Parts: To which are added Proposals For perfecting the English Language |
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Philander and Cydippe, A TALE. |
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 | Mr. Cooke's Original Poems |  |
29
Philander and Cydippe, A TALE.
31
In that fair Isle, the Garden of the Main,
Where Love extended once his easy Reign,
And where his Queen her Seat of Empire chose,
And to the fabled Goddess Temples rose,
In Cyprus liv'd, long since, a virtuous Pair,
The brave Philander, and Cydippe fair;
Of whom the Muse records the mutual Flame,
The patient Hero, and the constant Dame.
Young Men, and Virgins, to my Tale draw near,
Attend a Song fit for a vestal Ear;
Approach, ye Parents, who, for sordid Gain,
Would to detested Bands the Fair constrain;
Approach, and from Agenor's Story see
How curs'd the Nuptials, where not Hearts agree:
And thou, fair Annandale, a-while attend,
Thou sweet Inspirer, and the Poet's Friend;
Where Beauty, like thy own, and Virtue shine,
Indulge the Muse, and make the Poem thine.
Where Love extended once his easy Reign,
And where his Queen her Seat of Empire chose,
And to the fabled Goddess Temples rose,
In Cyprus liv'd, long since, a virtuous Pair,
The brave Philander, and Cydippe fair;
Of whom the Muse records the mutual Flame,
The patient Hero, and the constant Dame.
Young Men, and Virgins, to my Tale draw near,
Attend a Song fit for a vestal Ear;
Approach, ye Parents, who, for sordid Gain,
Would to detested Bands the Fair constrain;
Approach, and from Agenor's Story see
How curs'd the Nuptials, where not Hearts agree:
And thou, fair Annandale, a-while attend,
Thou sweet Inspirer, and the Poet's Friend;
32
Indulge the Muse, and make the Poem thine.
Two Friends in Cyprus liv'd, Philander one,
The other Dion, rich Agenor's Son;
Their Friendship early in their Youth began,
Encreasing dayly as they rose to Man;
Their blooming Virtues had to each their Charms,
Young Heroes both renown'd in Feats of Arms:
And now the Labours of the Battel end,
Dion, but Half alive without his Friend,
Invites him to his Father's House a Guest;
Philander, near the Partner of his Breast,
Had all he wish'd; each in the other bless'd.
Tho in Philander's Heart, large Dion's Share,
He was not long without a Rival there.
His Sister in his Friend has rais'd a Flame,
A Virgin chast, and yet a Cyprian Dame,
Cydippe, carv'd in ev'ry myrtle Grove,
And call'd the Beauty of the Land of Love.
The other Dion, rich Agenor's Son;
Their Friendship early in their Youth began,
Encreasing dayly as they rose to Man;
Their blooming Virtues had to each their Charms,
Young Heroes both renown'd in Feats of Arms:
And now the Labours of the Battel end,
Dion, but Half alive without his Friend,
Invites him to his Father's House a Guest;
Philander, near the Partner of his Breast,
Had all he wish'd; each in the other bless'd.
Tho in Philander's Heart, large Dion's Share,
He was not long without a Rival there.
His Sister in his Friend has rais'd a Flame,
A Virgin chast, and yet a Cyprian Dame,
Cydippe, carv'd in ev'ry myrtle Grove,
And call'd the Beauty of the Land of Love.
His Passion long the Warrior had conceal'd,
Nor to the Maid herself his Mind reveal'd:
The nicests Thoughts, which Honour could inspire,
The Lover acts by, and corrects his Fire;
Unjust he thinks, should not the Sire approve,
To tempt a virgin Heart by Force of Love.
Her Brother, and his Friend, the best, he chose,
To whom he should the Secret first disclose.
With tenderest Concern the Brother hear'd,
But from his Father's Temper much he fear'd,
Rash, covetous, and testy, from his Youth,
And always headstrong, tho oppos'd by Truth;
His Friend by Nature mild, of gentlest Kind,
And only rich, there truly rich, in Mind.
Nor to the Maid herself his Mind reveal'd:
The nicests Thoughts, which Honour could inspire,
The Lover acts by, and corrects his Fire;
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To tempt a virgin Heart by Force of Love.
Her Brother, and his Friend, the best, he chose,
To whom he should the Secret first disclose.
With tenderest Concern the Brother hear'd,
But from his Father's Temper much he fear'd,
Rash, covetous, and testy, from his Youth,
And always headstrong, tho oppos'd by Truth;
His Friend by Nature mild, of gentlest Kind,
And only rich, there truly rich, in Mind.
Dion, as Prudence taught, Philander leaves,
To try the Fair, how she his Love receives.
Cydippe pensive and alone he found,
With her bright Eyes fix'd stedfast on the Ground;
On her right Hand her rosy Cheek was lay'd,
All in the Posture of a love-sick Maid:
Before the Likeness of the Cyprian Queen,
So thoughtful was the Maid, he stood unseen.
From ev'ry Circumstance he judg'd her Mind,
And, long before he hear'd, her Case divin'd.
He nam'd his Friend, and gently rais'd her Head,
At which a Blush of Love her Cheeks o'erspread:
When of his Visit he the Cause had told,
These Words the Purport of her Mind unfold:
Think you too early I my Heart incline
To Love, forgive me, for the Cause is thine;
Oft' as I've hear'd you, eager to commend,
Dwell on the Virtues of your absent Friend,
I wish'd, whene'er it is ordain'd by Fate
I should exchange in Life my virgin State,
Kind Heav'n, in Pity to my Vows, may give
Such Virtues to the Man with whom I live;
But, since Philander to our Father came,
I feel the Dawnings of a virgin Flame:
Tho blind to what Degree my Lot is cast,
I hope my early Love will be my last.
To try the Fair, how she his Love receives.
Cydippe pensive and alone he found,
With her bright Eyes fix'd stedfast on the Ground;
On her right Hand her rosy Cheek was lay'd,
All in the Posture of a love-sick Maid:
Before the Likeness of the Cyprian Queen,
So thoughtful was the Maid, he stood unseen.
From ev'ry Circumstance he judg'd her Mind,
And, long before he hear'd, her Case divin'd.
He nam'd his Friend, and gently rais'd her Head,
At which a Blush of Love her Cheeks o'erspread:
When of his Visit he the Cause had told,
These Words the Purport of her Mind unfold:
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To Love, forgive me, for the Cause is thine;
Oft' as I've hear'd you, eager to commend,
Dwell on the Virtues of your absent Friend,
I wish'd, whene'er it is ordain'd by Fate
I should exchange in Life my virgin State,
Kind Heav'n, in Pity to my Vows, may give
Such Virtues to the Man with whom I live;
But, since Philander to our Father came,
I feel the Dawnings of a virgin Flame:
Tho blind to what Degree my Lot is cast,
I hope my early Love will be my last.
The Brother hear'd with Pleasure, and approv'd,
Each worthy by the other to be lov'd,
Then, hasting first his faithful Friend to cheer,
Told him she listen'd with a willing Ear;
From him in Transport to his Sire he ran,
To intercede for the deserving Man.
He urg'd his Virtues, and his Form divine,
How high descended of a noble Line,
In Council wise a sinking Land to save,
In War the bravest, and among the brave.
The Father hear'd, silent a while he stood,
Smiling within at Virtue, and at Blood:
He, long before resolv'd, had doom'd the Fair
To proud Agathocles, a wealthy Heir;
Whose Sire, immensely rich in Land and Gold,
In Bribes, in Perjury, in Rapine, old,
Had all bequeath'd, when he his Race had run,
To the dear Likeness of himself his Son.
Each worthy by the other to be lov'd,
Then, hasting first his faithful Friend to cheer,
Told him she listen'd with a willing Ear;
From him in Transport to his Sire he ran,
To intercede for the deserving Man.
He urg'd his Virtues, and his Form divine,
How high descended of a noble Line,
In Council wise a sinking Land to save,
In War the bravest, and among the brave.
The Father hear'd, silent a while he stood,
Smiling within at Virtue, and at Blood:
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To proud Agathocles, a wealthy Heir;
Whose Sire, immensely rich in Land and Gold,
In Bribes, in Perjury, in Rapine, old,
Had all bequeath'd, when he his Race had run,
To the dear Likeness of himself his Son.
While Dion pleads, and from a Soul sincere,
The Cause of Love, before a Judge severe,
The Lovers, conscious of their mutual Flame,
By Chance, together opportunely came:
Philander view'd her, and approach'd with Awe;
Love press'd him on, nor could the Nymph withdraw:
And now the soft Exchange of Hearts began,
Betwixt the fair one and the godlike Man:
The Victors both an equal Triumph share,
The conquer'd Hero, and the vanquish'd Fair.
While Scenes of Paradise their Thoughts employ,
While from their Breasts arise the Sighs of Joy,
While from their Lips such tender Accents flow,
As only Lovers speak, or wish to know,
Agenor's Mandate calls the Fair away,
And at his House forbids Philander's Stay:
And next for proud Agathocles he sends,
And to his Care the wretched Fair commends.
My future Son, he cry'd, and gave her Hand,
Take this an Earnest of a stricter Band,
Then turning to the Maid, a Parent's Curse
Be thine, and more, if Ought on Earth be worse,
When you refuse in Hymen's Rites to join
With him thy Father has alloted thine.
He ended thus, and with a Brow severe.
The Virgin, aw'd by Duty and by Fear,
First turn'd, and wip'd away the falling Tear,
And then reply'd. To him who gave me Breath,
The Hour my Duty ceases, welcome Death.
The Sire, displeas'd not with her Words, retir'd:
The human Brute, who view'd her Charms unfir'd,
By native Dulness free from Love's soft Pow'r,
Lik'd, or dislik'd, according to the Dow'r.
The Cause of Love, before a Judge severe,
The Lovers, conscious of their mutual Flame,
By Chance, together opportunely came:
Philander view'd her, and approach'd with Awe;
Love press'd him on, nor could the Nymph withdraw:
And now the soft Exchange of Hearts began,
Betwixt the fair one and the godlike Man:
The Victors both an equal Triumph share,
The conquer'd Hero, and the vanquish'd Fair.
While Scenes of Paradise their Thoughts employ,
While from their Breasts arise the Sighs of Joy,
While from their Lips such tender Accents flow,
As only Lovers speak, or wish to know,
Agenor's Mandate calls the Fair away,
And at his House forbids Philander's Stay:
And next for proud Agathocles he sends,
And to his Care the wretched Fair commends.
36
Take this an Earnest of a stricter Band,
Then turning to the Maid, a Parent's Curse
Be thine, and more, if Ought on Earth be worse,
When you refuse in Hymen's Rites to join
With him thy Father has alloted thine.
He ended thus, and with a Brow severe.
The Virgin, aw'd by Duty and by Fear,
First turn'd, and wip'd away the falling Tear,
And then reply'd. To him who gave me Breath,
The Hour my Duty ceases, welcome Death.
The Sire, displeas'd not with her Words, retir'd:
The human Brute, who view'd her Charms unfir'd,
By native Dulness free from Love's soft Pow'r,
Lik'd, or dislik'd, according to the Dow'r.
While poor Cydippe, in the dang'rous State,
To lose her Love, or meet a Parent's Hate,
Seeks by her Vows, to her distracting Grief,
From the fair Goddess of the Isle, Relief,
Dion, in Pity to their virtuous Love,
Himself a Brother, and a Friend, to prove,
Contrives their Meeting in a neighb'ring Grove.
He still the happy Moment hopes to find,
To turn to Reason old Agenor's Mind;
Or should the Sire persist, he wisely knew,
To Reason only was Obedience due.
To lose her Love, or meet a Parent's Hate,
Seeks by her Vows, to her distracting Grief,
From the fair Goddess of the Isle, Relief,
Dion, in Pity to their virtuous Love,
Himself a Brother, and a Friend, to prove,
Contrives their Meeting in a neighb'ring Grove.
He still the happy Moment hopes to find,
To turn to Reason old Agenor's Mind;
37
To Reason only was Obedience due.
The Scene to which the faithful Pair retreat,
At a small Distance from Agenor's Seat,
With Myrtle, and with fragrant Jess'mine, blows,
And sheds the Sweetness of the damasc Rose;
And there the Orange, of a golden Hue,
Breathes to the Smell, and glitters to the View;
The Sweets of Vi'lets rise where'er they rove:
Hence it is call'd the aromatic Grove.
While thro the Boughs the winged Natives fly
Warbling, a silver Stream runs murm'ring by.
Hither, with Virtue arm'd, the Lovers came,
To sigh their mutual and unspoted Flame;
But they enjoy'd not long the blissful State,
By Jealousy pursued, and envious Hate.
At a small Distance from Agenor's Seat,
With Myrtle, and with fragrant Jess'mine, blows,
And sheds the Sweetness of the damasc Rose;
And there the Orange, of a golden Hue,
Breathes to the Smell, and glitters to the View;
The Sweets of Vi'lets rise where'er they rove:
Hence it is call'd the aromatic Grove.
While thro the Boughs the winged Natives fly
Warbling, a silver Stream runs murm'ring by.
Hither, with Virtue arm'd, the Lovers came,
To sigh their mutual and unspoted Flame;
But they enjoy'd not long the blissful State,
By Jealousy pursued, and envious Hate.
Agathocles felt not of Love the Pow'r,
But languish'd dayly for the promis'd Dow'r;
Hence the dire Rancour of his Heart began
To him he fear'd, in Love, the happyer Man.
Spys he employ'd the Lover's Steps to trace;
Th'appointed Hour he knew, and usual Place.
But languish'd dayly for the promis'd Dow'r;
Hence the dire Rancour of his Heart began
To him he fear'd, in Love, the happyer Man.
Spys he employ'd the Lover's Steps to trace;
Th'appointed Hour he knew, and usual Place.
38
In an illfated Day Philander led
The virgin Charmer to the vi'let Bed;
As, former Vows repeated, fresh they made,
In Thought secure beneath the orange Shade,
An Arrow flew, and from a Hand unseen,
And crimson'd with the Lover's Blood the Green.
Cydippe fill'd with Shrieks the neighb'ring Plains,
And gather'd to the Place the Nymphs and Swains;
The Nymphs and Swains around astonish'd stand;
They know the Youth, and curse the barb'rous Hand:
They know, and much lament, the lovely Pair,
The brave Philander, and Cydippe fair.
The Hero to their Shed the Swains convey'd,
The Nymphs with Tears support the fainting Maid.
Soon to her Father's Ears the Rumour flys,
That by a Shaft unknown Philander dys:
He hopes, and, cruel! thence enjoys the Smart,
That Time will rase his Image from her Heart.
The virgin Charmer to the vi'let Bed;
As, former Vows repeated, fresh they made,
In Thought secure beneath the orange Shade,
An Arrow flew, and from a Hand unseen,
And crimson'd with the Lover's Blood the Green.
Cydippe fill'd with Shrieks the neighb'ring Plains,
And gather'd to the Place the Nymphs and Swains;
The Nymphs and Swains around astonish'd stand;
They know the Youth, and curse the barb'rous Hand:
They know, and much lament, the lovely Pair,
The brave Philander, and Cydippe fair.
The Hero to their Shed the Swains convey'd,
The Nymphs with Tears support the fainting Maid.
Soon to her Father's Ears the Rumour flys,
That by a Shaft unknown Philander dys:
He hopes, and, cruel! thence enjoys the Smart,
That Time will rase his Image from her Heart.
Now of her Fate the wretched Maid complains,
And feels of hopeless Love the sharpest Pains;
A thousand Thoughts against her Peace conspire,
Croud in her Mind, as Fuel feeds the Fire;
The Grove, the orange Shade, the vi'let Bed,
The native Blue now blushing stain'd with Red:
Now the pale Ghost screaming forsakes the Day;
She sickens at the Thought, and dys away.
And feels of hopeless Love the sharpest Pains;
A thousand Thoughts against her Peace conspire,
Croud in her Mind, as Fuel feeds the Fire;
The Grove, the orange Shade, the vi'let Bed,
The native Blue now blushing stain'd with Red:
39
She sickens at the Thought, and dys away.
Soon as the first, the dismal, Shock was o'er,
And she was say'd to live, and scarcely more,
Her Sire, affecting now the tender Man,
Thus from the Softness of his Heart began,
Daughter, if 'tis your Wish that Name should last,
Repent, as I forgive, thy Follys pass'd;
Prepare thyself, since I have fix'd the Hour
When I shall wed thee with an ample Dow'r:
Ten Days I grant thee more, from hence their Date:
I wait no Answer; be my Will thy Fate.
And she was say'd to live, and scarcely more,
Her Sire, affecting now the tender Man,
Thus from the Softness of his Heart began,
Daughter, if 'tis your Wish that Name should last,
Repent, as I forgive, thy Follys pass'd;
Prepare thyself, since I have fix'd the Hour
When I shall wed thee with an ample Dow'r:
Ten Days I grant thee more, from hence their Date:
I wait no Answer; be my Will thy Fate.
Dion, who knew with Grief th'appointed Day,
Advis'd the lovely Mourner to obey,
Till the last Moment bad her not despair,
But to the Pow'rs divine prefer the Pray'r,
The Pow'rs divine her Sorrows might relieve,
Nor unrewarded let her Virtue grieve:
Doubt not, my Fair, he cry'd, an Hour to find
Both to your Virtue, and your Wishes, kind.
He ended here, but had he told her more,
Her virgin Blood had never stain'd the Floor,
With Patience she had stay'd till he had us'd
The Means to rescue Innocence abus'd.
Advis'd the lovely Mourner to obey,
Till the last Moment bad her not despair,
But to the Pow'rs divine prefer the Pray'r,
The Pow'rs divine her Sorrows might relieve,
Nor unrewarded let her Virtue grieve:
Doubt not, my Fair, he cry'd, an Hour to find
Both to your Virtue, and your Wishes, kind.
He ended here, but had he told her more,
Her virgin Blood had never stain'd the Floor,
40
The Means to rescue Innocence abus'd.
The Maid, to Duty and to Love resign'd,
Conceals in Silence her distracted Mind:
Fix'd her Resolves as Fate, she waits the Day,
Nor lets her Looks, till then, her Heart betray:
And when the much expected Sun arose,
That saw the End, Cydippe, of thy Woes,
Agathocles appear'd, in all his Pride,
To take Possession of the promis'd Bride.
Her Father, Brother, both attend the Maid;
The Nymph proceeds in virgin White aray'd.
The Temple old Agenor, strange to tell!
To enter thrice assay'd, and thrice he fell;
Hence Dion would foresee th'approaching Fate,
And warn his Father 'e're it was too late;
But all in vain; he will no longer stay,
But see the Rites perform'd without Delay:
And now the wretched Bride, the constant Fair,
Of Hope itself bereft, in wild Despair,
A Ponyard drew, conceal'd beneath her Vest,
And, turning to her Father, pierc'd her Breast:
The Brother, who already felt the Smart,
The Weapon seiz'd before it reach'd her Heart.
Conceals in Silence her distracted Mind:
Fix'd her Resolves as Fate, she waits the Day,
Nor lets her Looks, till then, her Heart betray:
And when the much expected Sun arose,
That saw the End, Cydippe, of thy Woes,
Agathocles appear'd, in all his Pride,
To take Possession of the promis'd Bride.
Her Father, Brother, both attend the Maid;
The Nymph proceeds in virgin White aray'd.
The Temple old Agenor, strange to tell!
To enter thrice assay'd, and thrice he fell;
Hence Dion would foresee th'approaching Fate,
And warn his Father 'e're it was too late;
But all in vain; he will no longer stay,
But see the Rites perform'd without Delay:
And now the wretched Bride, the constant Fair,
Of Hope itself bereft, in wild Despair,
A Ponyard drew, conceal'd beneath her Vest,
And, turning to her Father, pierc'd her Breast:
The Brother, who already felt the Smart,
The Weapon seiz'd before it reach'd her Heart.
41
Just at the Entrance of the Temple stand
The brave Philander and his armed Band,
To bear away, each stedfast in his Cause,
His own by plighted Vows, and Nature's Laws:
Shrieks echo'd from within, at which he flew
Quick to the Altar, where he bled anew;
The Wound he suffer'd from his Rival's Dart
Was slight, compar'd to this, that pierc'd his Heart.
As in her Lover's Arms Cydippe lay,
Charm'd by his Voice again to view the Day,
In his Designs, the stupid Bridegroom, foil'd,
Mutt'ring retir'd, as from a Bargain spoil'd.
Agenor feels inutterable Woes:
Now his wrong Judgement in the Brute he chose,
Philander's Virtues, and reported Death,
In which he joy'd, his Child thought void of Breath,
Accuse his Soul; his silver Locks he tore,
And throw'd his aged Breast against the Floor:
Deeply he groan'd his last, and rose no more.
The pious Tear the Friend and Brother shed;
And they, whom once he wrong'd, bewail'd him dead;
With Rev'rence they perform his Obsequys,
And bear their Sorrows as beseem the wise.
The brave Philander and his armed Band,
To bear away, each stedfast in his Cause,
His own by plighted Vows, and Nature's Laws:
Shrieks echo'd from within, at which he flew
Quick to the Altar, where he bled anew;
The Wound he suffer'd from his Rival's Dart
Was slight, compar'd to this, that pierc'd his Heart.
As in her Lover's Arms Cydippe lay,
Charm'd by his Voice again to view the Day,
In his Designs, the stupid Bridegroom, foil'd,
Mutt'ring retir'd, as from a Bargain spoil'd.
Agenor feels inutterable Woes:
Now his wrong Judgement in the Brute he chose,
Philander's Virtues, and reported Death,
In which he joy'd, his Child thought void of Breath,
Accuse his Soul; his silver Locks he tore,
And throw'd his aged Breast against the Floor:
Deeply he groan'd his last, and rose no more.
The pious Tear the Friend and Brother shed;
And they, whom once he wrong'd, bewail'd him dead;
With Rev'rence they perform his Obsequys,
And bear their Sorrows as beseem the wise.
42
Soon as the Maid was from her Wound restor'd,
Her all she yielded to her plighted Lord:
Thrice twenty Seasons bless'd the virtuous Pair,
The brave Philander, and Cydippe fair.
Her all she yielded to her plighted Lord:
Thrice twenty Seasons bless'd the virtuous Pair,
The brave Philander, and Cydippe fair.
| Mr. Cooke's Original Poems | |