Poems on Various Subjects with some Essays in Prose, Letters to Correspondents, &c. and A Treatise on Health. By Samuel Bowden |
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AN EPITHALAMIUM.
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 | Poems on Various Subjects |  |
106
AN EPITHALAMIUM.
By a Batchelor.
Address'd to a Young Gentleman on his late Marriage.
Since you, my friend, o'er-rul'd by fate,
Have ventur'd on the marriage-state,
At your request, I hail the station,
With verses of congratulation.
Have ventur'd on the marriage-state,
At your request, I hail the station,
With verses of congratulation.
'Twas wisely done, tho' young and gay,
No more to triffle time away;
No more to rove this sea of life,
But make safe harbour in a wife.
While we inconstant chace maintain,
Advent'rous rovers on the main,
Safe anchor'd on this peaceful shore,
Tempestuous passions rage no more:
While from this station we survey
The shipwreckt Batchelors at sea.
Now tost by billows, here, and there,
Or sunk in quicksands of despair;
Now on piratic plunder bent,
Which, when obtain'd, gives no content;
Still wishing, wand'ring after rest,
Still bless pursuing, never blest.
No more to triffle time away;
No more to rove this sea of life,
But make safe harbour in a wife.
While we inconstant chace maintain,
Advent'rous rovers on the main,
Safe anchor'd on this peaceful shore,
Tempestuous passions rage no more:
107
The shipwreckt Batchelors at sea.
Now tost by billows, here, and there,
Or sunk in quicksands of despair;
Now on piratic plunder bent,
Which, when obtain'd, gives no content;
Still wishing, wand'ring after rest,
Still bless pursuing, never blest.
Let anxious Batchelors complain,
That wedlock is a servile chain;
But soft the chain, the bondage sweet,
When lovers in such fetters meet.
When gentle bonds the union bind,
'Tis freedom to be thus confin'd.
Blest freedom from a thousand snares,
Temptations, tumults, sighs, and cares.
In vain we rove the world around,
In wild pursuit no bliss is found.
In vain mad pleasures we pursue,
Without some object in our view.
Without this gaol we still embrace,
Some phantom in th' eternal chace;
And in the room of Juno's charms,
Clasp some false phantom in our arms.
That wedlock is a servile chain;
But soft the chain, the bondage sweet,
When lovers in such fetters meet.
When gentle bonds the union bind,
'Tis freedom to be thus confin'd.
Blest freedom from a thousand snares,
Temptations, tumults, sighs, and cares.
In vain we rove the world around,
In wild pursuit no bliss is found.
In vain mad pleasures we pursue,
Without some object in our view.
Without this gaol we still embrace,
Some phantom in th' eternal chace;
And in the room of Juno's charms,
Clasp some false phantom in our arms.
This happiness, my friend, you prove,
Thus wedded to the Fair you love.
No sordid views of worldly pelf
Inspir'd your love, to curse yourself.
The happy husband thus ally'd,
Enjoys a goddess in his bride.
Let the low wretch of sordid view,
Match with the mountains of Peru;
The nymph, content, aspires not so,
But dwells in the sweet vale below;
Hid in some solitary dale,
With the melodious nightingale;
Or seated in the shady grove,
Smiles at the storms, which roll above.
On high battlements, and towers,
See how the swelling tempest pours,
While only harmless zephyrs blow,
To fan the peaceful seats below.
Thus wedded to the Fair you love.
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Inspir'd your love, to curse yourself.
The happy husband thus ally'd,
Enjoys a goddess in his bride.
Let the low wretch of sordid view,
Match with the mountains of Peru;
The nymph, content, aspires not so,
But dwells in the sweet vale below;
Hid in some solitary dale,
With the melodious nightingale;
Or seated in the shady grove,
Smiles at the storms, which roll above.
On high battlements, and towers,
See how the swelling tempest pours,
While only harmless zephyrs blow,
To fan the peaceful seats below.
With such a gentle Consort blest,
Here all your passions are at rest.
If adverse fortue war shou'd wage,
Her bosom softens half its rage;
Her smiles can smooth the rugged way,
And make the barren prospect gay:
With such a Fair content to dwell,
Or in a cottage, or a cell;
Nor envy all the pomp and strife
Of the gay slaves in higher life.
Here all your passions are at rest.
If adverse fortue war shou'd wage,
Her bosom softens half its rage;
Her smiles can smooth the rugged way,
And make the barren prospect gay:
With such a Fair content to dwell,
Or in a cottage, or a cell;
Nor envy all the pomp and strife
Of the gay slaves in higher life.
| Poems on Various Subjects | |