 | Poems, Songs and Love-Verses |  |
The Lovers Greeting.
When bald-pate Winter, with his hoary head,
By the Springs kind aspect was vanquished;
When sturdy Boreas Storms were over past,
And milder Zeph'rus breath'd his gentle blast;
In pleasant May, when Flora did invest
The Fields with green, and shady Coverts blest;
When ev'ry where the bright refulgent beams
Of glorious Titan shin'd upon the streams
Of gliding Crystal Floods, whose waving pace
Seem'd as it were to emulate with Grace
The various Clouds, and gladly to invite
Faint-hearted Lovers to their dear delight.
It was my chance to meet my dearest Love,
Who, Gods you know, I do esteem above
All earthly Treasures, and to me what-e're
Under both Polls can be accounted fair.
I came (and with a modest pace) and bent
My tim'rous body, full of discontent,
And at her feet (who the great Gods above
Can testifie, I do sincerely love)
I prostrate fell, thinking thereby to gain
One loving smile, but it was all in vain.
For, O my cruel Fate, at the first view
Her smiling Countenance my Love withdrew,
And with an ireful look she cast her Eye,
Bending her brows, now full of Tyranny.
So have I seen when Phœbus in his might,
Shoots forth his glorious Raies, whose shining light
Doth dazle all Mens Eyes; yet by and by
An envious Cloud doth hide him from our Eye.
But all this time I stood amaz'd, nor knew
To bear those sudden storms of frowns she threw.
Just as when Jove doth thunder in the Sky,
The amaz'd beholder, ready for to dye,
Trembles and shakes, not knowing how to free
Himself from danger that he's forc'd to see.
Yet at the last, when I cou'd nought perceive
That might at all my tim'rous heart relieve,
Like a bold Soldier, mad, with desp'rate Fate,
Resolv'd my cruel Fortune to abate,
And give the Onset with a Heart that's free
From Fear, or any such base ignomy.
I tried a thousand ways, but all in vain.
Still what I did, did more increase my Flame.
Ah cruel Nymph, abate your high disdain,
And grant me Love to mitigate my pain;
Which if you do deny, for my relief,
'Tis Death shall ease the burthen of my grief.
By the Springs kind aspect was vanquished;
When sturdy Boreas Storms were over past,
And milder Zeph'rus breath'd his gentle blast;
In pleasant May, when Flora did invest
The Fields with green, and shady Coverts blest;
When ev'ry where the bright refulgent beams
Of glorious Titan shin'd upon the streams
Of gliding Crystal Floods, whose waving pace
Seem'd as it were to emulate with Grace
The various Clouds, and gladly to invite
Faint-hearted Lovers to their dear delight.
It was my chance to meet my dearest Love,
Who, Gods you know, I do esteem above
40
Under both Polls can be accounted fair.
I came (and with a modest pace) and bent
My tim'rous body, full of discontent,
And at her feet (who the great Gods above
Can testifie, I do sincerely love)
I prostrate fell, thinking thereby to gain
One loving smile, but it was all in vain.
For, O my cruel Fate, at the first view
Her smiling Countenance my Love withdrew,
And with an ireful look she cast her Eye,
Bending her brows, now full of Tyranny.
So have I seen when Phœbus in his might,
Shoots forth his glorious Raies, whose shining light
Doth dazle all Mens Eyes; yet by and by
An envious Cloud doth hide him from our Eye.
But all this time I stood amaz'd, nor knew
To bear those sudden storms of frowns she threw.
Just as when Jove doth thunder in the Sky,
The amaz'd beholder, ready for to dye,
Trembles and shakes, not knowing how to free
Himself from danger that he's forc'd to see.
Yet at the last, when I cou'd nought perceive
That might at all my tim'rous heart relieve,
Like a bold Soldier, mad, with desp'rate Fate,
Resolv'd my cruel Fortune to abate,
And give the Onset with a Heart that's free
From Fear, or any such base ignomy.
I tried a thousand ways, but all in vain.
Still what I did, did more increase my Flame.
41
And grant me Love to mitigate my pain;
Which if you do deny, for my relief,
'Tis Death shall ease the burthen of my grief.
Sui minus est animus nobis effundere vitam
In me crudelis non potes esse diu.
In me crudelis non potes esse diu.
Farewell to Pleasure and to fond Delight,
Farewel those thoughts which an unconstant mind
Is still perplext with, pond'ring in the Night,
For what his wearied Lust can never find;
His Rage is blind,
And he far more unconstant than the Wind.
Farewel those thoughts which an unconstant mind
Is still perplext with, pond'ring in the Night,
For what his wearied Lust can never find;
His Rage is blind,
And he far more unconstant than the Wind.
When I but think how my disorder'd Heart
Has by the motion of one flatt'ring look,
By that detested, vile and cursed Art,
Venus, I mean thy subtle tempting Hook,
Been tamely took;
Thus tempting Toys make Children leave their Book.
Has by the motion of one flatt'ring look,
By that detested, vile and cursed Art,
Venus, I mean thy subtle tempting Hook,
Been tamely took;
Thus tempting Toys make Children leave their Book.
O then those Charms that did my Heart controll,
Burst in a Fury from my swelter'd Brest,
And the disorder'd passions of my Soul
Their damn'd and treach'rous ways does so detest,
That over-prest,
My weary'd mind is robb'd of all its rest.
Burst in a Fury from my swelter'd Brest,
And the disorder'd passions of my Soul
Their damn'd and treach'rous ways does so detest,
That over-prest,
My weary'd mind is robb'd of all its rest.
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