Poems by William Kendall :: :: University of Virginia Library

Sweet Sparrow, all my Love's delight,
Whose wanton frolics charm her sight;
By Lesbia's playful hand caress'd,
As oft she lays thee on her breast,
Her taper fingers tempting seek
The sportive vengeance of thy beak:
When cares oppress,—the soft relief,
The soothing solace of her grief!
With thee, like Lesbia, might I play;
Like her my weary woes allay:
With softer joy should I be blest
Than Atalanta's self confess'd;
When gold, amidst the rapid race,
Unbound her zone and check'd her pace.

On the Death of Lesbia's Sparrow.

Ye Graces, weep! ye Loves, complain!
Lament, ye men of softer vein!
Her soul's delight, her Sparrow dies,
More loved by Lesbia than her eyes:
The sweetest bird! as honey mild!
He follow'd Lesbia like a child—
He never from her bosom stray'd,
For her alone he fondly play'd,
Now here, now there, while leaping light,
He chirp'd his lay and charm'd her sight;
Who now a dreary road must fly,
Whence all return the fates deny.

Ye shades of death, ye shades unblest,
May tenfold gloom your realms invest!
On all that lovely lives ye prey,
Ye tore my lovely bird away.
Oh luckless bird! Oh cruel deed!
For thee my heart is doom'd to bleed—
For thee forlorn my Love appears,
Swoln her soft eyes and red with tears!

To Lesbia.

O, let us love our lives away,
Nor heed what wrinkled sages say!
The setting sun relumined shines—
When once our shortlived day declines,
We hail, alas! no dawning light,
We sleep one long eternal night.

My lips with thousand kisses bless—
Swift with a hundred more caress!
A rapturous thousand yet impart—
Still with a hundred chear my heart!
A thousand yet! a hundred more!
With glowing myriads swell the store!
So swiftly then we'll mingle blisses,
Not Envy's self shall count our kisses!

To Lesbia.

How many kisses must I sip
To satiate love from Lesbia's lip?—
O seek Cyrene's fragrant shore,
The countless Lybian sand explore,
From where Jove's fervid fane is rear'd
To antient Battus' tomb revered;
Or swift the sum of stars unfold—
Of stars that secret joys behold,
When night in silent splendor glows
And all but lovers seek repose:—
So many kisses must I sip
To satiate love from Lesbia's lip!
With these my raging passion bless—
Catullus only feels excess,
When no keen eye can count his joy,
No envious spell his bliss annoy!

The influence of Magic did not extend (according to ancient superstition) beyond the limit of numbers.

101

On the Nuptials of Julia and Manlius.

Son of Urania, hear our strain!
From Helicon's bright summit glide:
Thou, who to bless her eager swain
Leadst swiftly on the virgin bride,
For thee our choral measures rise—
With Hymen's name we wake the skies!

To crown thy brow, let flowerets sweet
Of marjoram a garland lend.
Haste, bring the veil! thy snowy feet
Adorn'd with yellow sock, descend!

Come! hither come, with joyful cry!
Awake, awake the nuptial sound!
O wave thy piny torch on high,
And beat with measured step the ground!

103

For, as Idalian Venus fair,
When Paris view'd her glowing charms,
See Julia, spotless maid, repair
In happy hour to Manlius' arms.

Like her's the blooming myrtle's hue
On Asia's odour-breathing shore;
Whose blossoms, nursed with pearly dew,
The sportive wood-nymphs sprinkle o'er.

Here turn thy step: here wander now—
Leave, Hymen, leave Aonian caves:
Quit Thespia's rock, whose tuneful brow
Cool-streaming Aganippe laves!

Lead to her spouse the blushing bride,
Her soul with love's soft fetters bind;
In circling folds on every side
As trees with ivy wreaths are twined.

105

Unspotted maids, whom fate ere long
Assigns connubial joys to meet;
Accordant join the choral song,
In loudly-warbled notes repeat:

To Hymen let the measures rise,
With Hymen! Hymen! wake the skies!

So may the god of chaste desire
Invoked prepare his hallow'd rite;
And, pleased to hear your songs aspire,
On swifter pinions urge his flight.

What power that roves the realms of air
Shall ardent lovers worship more?
What favouring god, with purer prayer,
With warmer vows shall man adore?

To Hymen let the measures rise,
With Hymen! Hymen! wake the skies!

The nymphs with panting bosoms bare,
Unloose their zones for thy delight:
The parent breathes an anxious prayer,
The fervid youth invokes thy rite.

107

Impatient to his eager hand
To yield the beauteous maid is thine:
With trembling haste, at thy command,
Maternal arms their charge resign!

To Hymen let the measures rise,
With Hymen! Hymen! wake the skies!

False are the joys that love attend,
Unhallow'd, unapproved by fame,
Till nuptial rites their influence lend,
Till Hymen consecrate the flame:

For thee we rend the vocal air,
What god with Hymen can compare?

No founders of a noble race
Shall time to lasting fame consign;
His sire no glorious heirs shall grace
Till thou protect the lengthening line:

For thee we rend the vocal air,
What god with Hymen can compare?

109

The climes that nuptial bonds despise,
No guardian power shall e'er command:
Nor kings, nor honour'd heroes rise,
Till thou descending bless the land:

For thee we rend the vocal air,
What god with Hymen can compare?

The virgin comes: the doors unfold:
The torches' waving tresses shine!
Appear, appear, sweet bride, behold
The lucid stars of eve decline!

While modest fear prolongs her stay
The shouts redoubled rend her ear:
She weeps!—The fleeting hours decay,
O virgin bride, appear, appear!

No ill awaits a maid like thee,
Aurunculeia! cease to weep:
A fairer nymph ne'er smiled to see
The day-star rising from the deep.

111

Like thee, 'mid rival flowerets shines
The hyacynth in vernal pride!
But see the star of eve declines,
Appear, appear, unspotted bride.

Haste, haste!—The beauteous form behold!
Sweet maid, our clamours reach thine ear!
The torches wave their locks of gold—
O virgin bride, appear, appear!

Thy love shall never bid thee grieve,
Nor cloy'd, nor faithless to thy charms,
That softly-swelling bosom leave
To riot in a wanton's arms.

Thee shall his fond embrace enfold,
As elms invite the circling vine.
Appear, appear, sweet bride, behold
The lucid stars of eve decline!

113

Soft couch of love, whose ivory feet
Confess the happiest aid of art,
How soon on thee shall Manlius meet
A bliss too mighty to impart!

What rapturous hours shall charm his day,
What joys the conscious night endear!
But see the lamp of eve decay—
O virgin bride, appear appear!

The veil appears! away, away—
Remove the torches' ardent light!
Boys, loudly swell the choral lay,
Hail with shrill shouts th' auspicious night!

To Hymen let the measures rise,
With Hymen! Hymen! wake the skies!

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115

Fond husband, for the youthful throng
With nuts profusely strew the ground:
Enough! Thalassius swells the song:
The Fescenninian jests resound!

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Once, Manlius, every joy was thine
That youth's unfetter'd warmth allows:
These roving pleasures now resign,
A purer bliss awaits a spouse.

To Hymen let the measures rise,
With Hymen! Hymen! wake the skies!

117

Thou too, new-married bride, beware—
Nor shun a husband's eager arms!
Grant all he asks, lest vice ensnare
His soul to court illicit charms.

To Hymen let the measures rise,
With Hymen! Hymen! wake the skies!

Behold the mansion of thy spouse:
Delighted there each hour employ,
Till age approach with hoary brows
And all the bloom of life destroy.

To Hymen let the measures rise,
With Hymen! Hymen! wake the skies!

Now lightly leap with nimble feet,
Swift o'er the polish'd threshold glide;
With happy omen haste to greet
The youth who fondly seeks his bride.

To Hymen let the measures rise,
With Hymen! Hymen! wake the skies!

119

Within on Tyrian couch reclined,
Sweet bride, thy longing husband see!
Thy blushing beauties fire his mind,
Each ardent sigh is full of thee.

Like thine his bosom feels the flame,
The throbbing tumult of desire:
Love, inly gliding thro' his frame,
Consumes his soul with fiercer fire.

To Hymen let the measures rise,
With Hymen! Hymen! wake the skies!

Attendants cease your fruitless aid,
Support no more her polish'd arms;
Swift to the couch attend the maid,
Soothe, gently soothe her love's alarms.

Experienced matrons, chaste and sage,
To hoary husbands long allied,
With speed instruct her artless age:
On nuptial vestments lay the bride!

To Hymen let the measures rise,
With Hymen! Hymen! wake the skies!

121

Approach! and let thy soul be blest—
Stretch'd on the couch her limbs recline—
Love's lillies blossom on her breast,
Her cheeks like opening poppies shine!

Thou too art fair—with favouring eye
Hath Venus view'd thee, beauteous boy!
But see thick darkness veils the sky,
Haste, haste, the rapid hours employ.

The bridegroom comes! not long delay'd.
Love smiles propitious on the youth
That artless won a yielding maid
By vows sincere and manly truth.

Whoe'er your moments of delight
Should strive by numbers to explore,
As well might count the stars of night
Or sands on Erythræa's shore.

123

Thus ever live in blissful state!
Let children crown the chaste embrace!
Ah sure that glorious name from fate
May justly claim a lengthen'd race.

Soon shall a son with artless charms,
Lean from his mother's breast awhile;
Stretch to his sire his infant arms,
Half ope his little lips and smile!

While Manlius in his tender cheek
Appears to every gazing eye,
May youthful innocence bespeak
A lovely mother's purity!

As o'er Ulysses' offspring shone
Penelope's unrivall'd fame;
May Julia's son illustrious own
His spotless mother's equal name!

125

Ye nymphs, no longer wake the lay,
Close now the gates and cease your strain—
Blest pair! enjoy life's fleeting day,
While youth and genial years remain!