« AnteriorContinuar »
A lover's heart, a hand grenado. Wo to her stubborn heart, if once mine come
Into the self-fame room,
'Twill tear and blow up all within, , Like a grenado shot into a magazin. Then shall love keep the ashes, and torn
Shall out of both one new one make; From her's th' allay ; from mine, the metal take.
The poetical Propagation of Light.
The Prince's favour is diffus'd o'er all,
fall; Then from those wombs of stars, the Bride's
bright eyes, At every glance, a constellation flies, And sowes the court with stars, and doth pre
vent In light and power, the all-ey'd firmament; First her eye kindles other ladies' eyes,
Then from their beams their jewels lustres
And from their jewels torches do take fire, And all is warmth, and light, and good defire.
HE Y were in very little care to clothe their notions with elegance of dress, and therefore miss the notice and the praise which are often gained by those, who think less, but are more diligent to adorn their thoughts.
That a mistress beloved is fairer in idea than in reality, is by Cowley thus expressed :
Thou in my fancy doft much higher stand,
And I must needs, I'm sure, a loser be,
That prayer and labour should co-operate, are thus taught by Donne ;
In none but us, are such mixt engines
found, As hands of double office : for the ground We till with them; and them to heav'n we
Who prayerless labouis, or without this,
prays, Doth but one half, that's none.
By the same author, a common topick, the danger of procrastination, is thus illustrated :
-That which I should have begun
And I, as giddy travellers must do,
All that Man has to do is to live and die ; the sum of humanity is comprehended by Donne in the following lines :
Think in how poor a prison thou didst lie,
They were sometimes indelicate and difgusting. Cowley thus apostrophises beauty : -Thou tyrant, which leav'st no man free! Thou subtle thief, from whom nought safe
can be !
Thou murth’rer, which haft killed, and devil,
which would'st damn me.
Thus he addresses his Mistress :
Thou, who in many a propriety,
Thus he represents the meditations of a
Thou with strange adultery
Awake, all men do lust for thee,
The true taste of tears.
Hither with crystal vials, lovers, come,
And take my tears, which are love's wine,
And try your mistress' tears at home, For all are false, that taste not just like mine.
DONNE, This is yet more indelicate : As the sweet sweat of roses in a still, As that which from chaf'd mulk-cat's pores
doth trill, As the almighty balm of th' early East, Such are the sweet drops of my mistress' breast. And on her neck her skin such lastre sets, They seem to sweat drops, but pearl coronets: Rank sweaty froth thy mistress' brow defiles.
HEIR expressions fometimes raise horșor, when they intend perhaps to be pathetic: As men in hell are from diseases free, So from all other ills am I,
Free from their known formality: But all pains eminently lie in thee.
HEY were not always strictly curious, whether the opinions from which they drew their illustrations were true ; it was enough that they were popular. Bacon remarks, that some falsehoods are continued by tradition, because they supply commodious allusions. It gave a piteous groan, and so it broke ; In vain it something would have spoke: The love within too strong for’t was, Like poison put into a Venice-glass.
N forming descriptions they looked out not for images, but for conceits. Night has been a common subject, which poets have contended to adorn. Dryden's Night is well known ; Donne's is as follows :
Thou seest me here at midnight, now all rest: Time's dead low-water; when all minds
divest To-morrow's business, when the labourers
have Such rest in bed, that their last church-yard
grave, Subject to change, will scarce be a type of
this, Now when the client, whose last hearing is