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A Miscellany of Poems

consisting of Original Poems, Translations, Pastorals in the Cumberland Dialect, Familiar Epistles, Fables, Songs, and Epigrams, by the late Reverend Josiah Relph ... With a Preface and a Glossary

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The Story of PYRAMUS and THISBE
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

The Story of PYRAMUS and THISBE

from the 4th Book of the Metamorphoses.

Young Pyramus and Thisbe, loveliest he
Of Eastern Youths, of Maidens fairest she,
Had houses joining in that stately town
Whose walls Semiramis their Foundress own,
Neighbourhood acquaintance bred, acquaintance fast
Grew up to friendship, and to love at last;
Love had been happy in the nuptial band;
But friends withstood; what friends cou'd not withstand.
An equal warmth each gave, and each return'd
Burnt fiercely both, but both in secret burn'd.
The use of words their parents stern deny:
But what the tongue's forbidden, speaks the eye.

83

Ah! what avails it passion to disguise:
Love's fires the more conceal'd, the fiercer rise.
In the partition-wall a crack had been
Some way occasion'd, when the work was green,
So small, for ages it was never ey'd,
Which yet, what spys not love? the lovers spy'd
And in the cranny found a secret way
Their minds in dying murmurs to convey.
Oft at their stations as they stood and try'd
Fondly to catch the breath, each other sigh'd,
Ill-natur'd wall, complain'd they, thus to part
In body lovers that are one in heart:
What were it, shou'dst thou suffer an embrace;
At least a kiss or two is no such grace:
And yet ungrateful we are not, but know
To whom this easing intercourse we owe.
In unavailing plaints the day thus past,
Farewell, with much ado they said at last,

84

And kisses to the parting wall apply'd,
Kisses that on the marble useless dy'd.
Aurora now had chas'd the stars away,
And the cool dews exhal'd the rising ray;
To the known place return the faithful two,
And all their former fond complaints renew.
Their parents then they purpose to deceive,
To leave their homes by night, the town to leave,
And lest they wander blindly in the gloom,
Their interview appoint at Ninus' tomb:
Where near a spring a spreading Mulberry rose,
Clad with fair fruit that match'd the falling snows;
The assignation likes, impatient they
Long for the night and chide the lingring day.
'Tis silence all at length: with wary pace
This be the door soft opens, vails her face,
Hies through the dark and seats her in the shade,
What dares not, urg'd by love, the tim'rous maid?

85

When lo! a lioness approaches near,
Fresh from the slaughter of the lowing steer,
And to the brook directly points her way,
Her thirst by blood excited to allay.
Which by the Moon as Thisbe chanc'd to view,
Wing'd with her fear, the trembling Virgin flew,
And in a cave th' impending fate declin'd,
But left unhappily her veil behind.
The savage having slak'd her burning pain,
And to the forrest speeding cross the plain,
The garment found, and vext to find no more,
With bloody jaws the lifeless prey she tore,
And left it all besmear'd with dust and gore.
When Pyramus detain'd by stricter spies,
Now late the tomb approach'd and cast his eyes,
On the fair prints of savage feet, all pale
His visage grew, but when he saw the veil,

86

Yes, two, he cry'd, one night shall give to Fate;
But oh! her life deserv'd a longer date:
Mine is the guilt, poor Thisbe I betray'd,
Who bid her helpless, tempt the nightly shade,
And did not tempt it first to guard my Fair.
Hither, O all ye bloody race, repair;
Mangle these limbs and rend this cruel heart:
But Death to wish for, is a coward's part.
Then to th' appointed tree the veil he bore,
Bath'd it in tears and kiss'd it o'er and o'er:
And deeper yet, he cryes, thy stain be made;
And instant in his bosom sheath'd the blade.
Scarce strength to draw it out his hands supply,
Backward he falls and spouts the blood on high.
So when a conduit-pipe receives a flaw,
Out burst the hissing waters in a bow;
Spreading and spreading through the skies they pour
And fall at last a widely trickling shower.

87

The berries sprinkled with the purple dew
Forget their white and take a reddish hue,
And the roots moistned with the gore supply
To every future charge the different dye.
The Damsel, lest he might suspect her truth,
Returns all fearful yet, to seek the Youth,
Longing his Thisbe's fright to let him hear,
And paint the beast how ghastly and how near.
The tree she reach'd; but doubted when she saw
The tinctur'd fruit, if'twas the tree or no;
Till soon her eye, as in suspence she stood,
Dropt on a body flackring in it's blood:
She shrunk, grew pale, and trembling like the main,
When a light breeze disturbs the liquid plain.
But now her nearer looks her love declare;
She beats her lovely breast, she tears her hair;
She kneels, and round the body throws her arms,
Bathes it in tears and with embraces warms:

88

But freezing all in death the limbs she found,
My Pyramus, she cry'd, ah whence this wound?
My Pyramus—O hear! 'tis I request,
Thy own dear Thisbe—speak or look at least.
At Thisbe's name he lifts his loaden eyes,
Dwells on her charms a moment, closes them and dyes.
The story now alas appears too well,
The veil and sword the mournful story tell;
Yes, thy own hand has given the blow, she cry'd,
And to that hand the motive love supply'd:
I too poor trembling I dare such a feat;
My valour's little, but my passion's great:
Yes, the dear Youth his Thisbe will attend,
The cause at once and partner of his end.
Death only cou'd divide thee from my heart;
But 'tis resolv'd not Death itself shall part.
Now both our Fathers (ah no Fathers soon!)
Hear us and envy not so small a boon;

89

Vouchsafe one grave, nor part those after death
Whom love has join'd and whom their latest breath;
And thou, O Tree, whose kindly spreading bough
Covers one corpse and soon must cover two;
Still fresh the marks of slaughter thus retain,
Still mourn thy fruit an hapless couple slain.
She said, and to her breast the sword apply'd,
Press'd the deep piercing point, sunk by her lord and dy'd.
No more their wishes unavailing sue;
The Gods attend, attend their Parents too;
To a dark red the ripening berries turn,
And sleep their ashes in a common urn.