Occasional Poems Translations, Fables, Tales, &c. By William Somervile |
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To a young Lady, with the Iliad of Homer translated.
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 | Occasional Poems |  |
87
To a young Lady, with the Iliad of Homer translated.
Go (happy Volume) to the Fair impart
The secret Wishes of a wounded Heart:
Kind Advocate! exert thy utmost Zeal,
Describe my Passion, and my Woes reveal.
Oft shalt thou kiss that Hand where Roses bloom,
And the white Lilly breathes its rich Perfume;
On thee her Eyes shall shine, thy Leaves employ
Each Faculty, and sooth her Soul with Joy.
Watch the soft Hour, when peaceful Silence reigns,
And Philomel alone like me complains:
When envious Prudes no longer haunt the Fair,
But end a Day of Calumny in Pray'r:
O'er Quarles or Bunyan nod, in Dreams relent,
Without disguise give all their Passions vent,
And mourn their wither'd Charms, and youthful Prime mispent.
Then by the waxen Tapers glim'ring Light,
With thee the studious Maid shall pass the Night;
Shall feel her Heart beat quick in ev'ry Page,
And tremble at the stern Pelides' Rage:
With Horror view the half-drawn Blade appear,
And the desponding Tyrant pale with Fear;
To calm that Soul untame'd sage Nestor fails,
And ev'n Celestial Wisdom scarce prevails.
Then lead her to the Margin of the Main,
And let her hear th' impatient Chief complain;
Toss'd with superior Storms, on the bleak Shores
He lies, and louder than the Billows roars.
Next the dread Scene unfold of War and Blood,
Hector in Arms triumphant, Greece subdu'd;
The partial Gods who with their Foes conspire,
The Dead, the Dying, and the Fleet on fire,
But tell, oh! tell, the Cause of all this Woe,
The fatal Source from whence these Mischiefs flow;
Tell her 'twas Love deny'd the Hero fir'd,
Depriv'd of her whom most his Heart desir'd.
Not the dire Vengeance of the thund'ring Jove,
Can match the boundless Rage of injur'd Love.
Stop the fierce Torrent, and its Billows rise,
Lay waste the Shores, invade both Earth and Skies:
Confine it not, but let it gently flow,
It kindly chears the smiling Plains below,
And everlasting Sweets upon its Borders grow.
The secret Wishes of a wounded Heart:
Kind Advocate! exert thy utmost Zeal,
Describe my Passion, and my Woes reveal.
Oft shalt thou kiss that Hand where Roses bloom,
And the white Lilly breathes its rich Perfume;
On thee her Eyes shall shine, thy Leaves employ
Each Faculty, and sooth her Soul with Joy.
Watch the soft Hour, when peaceful Silence reigns,
And Philomel alone like me complains:
88
But end a Day of Calumny in Pray'r:
O'er Quarles or Bunyan nod, in Dreams relent,
Without disguise give all their Passions vent,
And mourn their wither'd Charms, and youthful Prime mispent.
Then by the waxen Tapers glim'ring Light,
With thee the studious Maid shall pass the Night;
Shall feel her Heart beat quick in ev'ry Page,
And tremble at the stern Pelides' Rage:
With Horror view the half-drawn Blade appear,
And the desponding Tyrant pale with Fear;
To calm that Soul untame'd sage Nestor fails,
And ev'n Celestial Wisdom scarce prevails.
Then lead her to the Margin of the Main,
And let her hear th' impatient Chief complain;
Toss'd with superior Storms, on the bleak Shores
He lies, and louder than the Billows roars.
89
Hector in Arms triumphant, Greece subdu'd;
The partial Gods who with their Foes conspire,
The Dead, the Dying, and the Fleet on fire,
But tell, oh! tell, the Cause of all this Woe,
The fatal Source from whence these Mischiefs flow;
Tell her 'twas Love deny'd the Hero fir'd,
Depriv'd of her whom most his Heart desir'd.
Not the dire Vengeance of the thund'ring Jove,
Can match the boundless Rage of injur'd Love.
Stop the fierce Torrent, and its Billows rise,
Lay waste the Shores, invade both Earth and Skies:
Confine it not, but let it gently flow,
It kindly chears the smiling Plains below,
And everlasting Sweets upon its Borders grow.
90
To Troy's proud Walls the wond'ring Maid convey,
With pointed Spires, and golden Turrets gay,
The Work of Gods: thence let the Fair behold
The Court of Priam rich in Gems and Gold;
His num'rous Sons, his Queen's Majestick Pride,
Th' aspiring Domes, th' Apartments stretching wide,
Where on their Looms Sidonian Virgins wrought,
And weav'd the Battels which their Lovers fought.
Here let her Eyes survey those fatal Charms,
The beauteous Prize that set the World in Arms;
Thro' gazing Crouds, bright Progeny of Jove,
She walks, and ev'ry panting Heart beats Love.
Ev'n sapless Age new blossoms at the sight,
And views the Fair Destroyer with delight:
Beauty's vast Pow'r, hence to the Nymph make known,
In Helen's Triumphs let her read her own;
Nor blame her Slaves, but lay the Guilt on Fate,
And pardon Failings which her Charms create.
With pointed Spires, and golden Turrets gay,
The Work of Gods: thence let the Fair behold
The Court of Priam rich in Gems and Gold;
His num'rous Sons, his Queen's Majestick Pride,
Th' aspiring Domes, th' Apartments stretching wide,
Where on their Looms Sidonian Virgins wrought,
And weav'd the Battels which their Lovers fought.
Here let her Eyes survey those fatal Charms,
The beauteous Prize that set the World in Arms;
Thro' gazing Crouds, bright Progeny of Jove,
She walks, and ev'ry panting Heart beats Love.
Ev'n sapless Age new blossoms at the sight,
And views the Fair Destroyer with delight:
91
In Helen's Triumphs let her read her own;
Nor blame her Slaves, but lay the Guilt on Fate,
And pardon Failings which her Charms create.
Rash Bard! forbear, nor let thy flatt'ring Muse,
With pleasing Visions, thy fond Heart abuse;
Vain are thy Hopes presumptuous, vain thy Pray'r,
Bright is her Image, and divinely Fair;
But oh! the Goddess in thy Arms is fleeting Air.
So dreams th' ambitious Man when rich Tokay,
Or Burgundy, refines his vulgar Clay:
The white Rod trembles in his potent Hand,
And Crouds obsequious wait his high Command;
Upon his Breast he views the radiant Star,
And gives the World around him Peace or War:
In State he reigns, for one short, busy Night,
But soon convinc'd by the next dawning Light,
Curses the fading Joys that vanish from his sight.
With pleasing Visions, thy fond Heart abuse;
Vain are thy Hopes presumptuous, vain thy Pray'r,
Bright is her Image, and divinely Fair;
But oh! the Goddess in thy Arms is fleeting Air.
So dreams th' ambitious Man when rich Tokay,
Or Burgundy, refines his vulgar Clay:
The white Rod trembles in his potent Hand,
And Crouds obsequious wait his high Command;
Upon his Breast he views the radiant Star,
And gives the World around him Peace or War:
92
But soon convinc'd by the next dawning Light,
Curses the fading Joys that vanish from his sight.
| Occasional Poems | |