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LOVE'S FAREWELL...FROM A CHILD...ON A GIRDLE.
For you, that are in motion still,
Decline our force, and mock our skill;
Who, like Don Quixote, do advance A long farewell to love I gave:
Against a windmill our vain lance. Resolv'd my country, and my friends,
Now will I wander through the air, All that remain'd of me should have.
Mount, make a stoop at every fair;
And, with a fancy unconfin'd, And this resolve, no mortal dame,
(As lawless as the sea or wind) None but those eyes, could have own:
Pursue you wheresoe'er you fly, The nymph I dare not, need not, name,
And with your various thoughts comply. So high, so like herself alone.
The formal stars do travel so, Thus the tall oak, which now aspires
As we their names and courses know; Above the fear of private fires,
And he that on their changes looks, Grown and design’d for nobler use,
Would think them govern'd by our books: Not to make warm, but build the house,
But never were the clouds reduc'd Though from our meaner flames secure,
To any art: the motions us'd
By those free vapours are so light,
Those gilded shadows as they slide,
And therefore of the spacious air
She with her own resemblance grac'd
A shining cloud, which he embrac'd.
Such was that image, so it smild
'Twas shap'd like her; but for the fair, That I might ever such indulgence find,
He fill'd his arms with yielding air.
Soon overtakes whom he had chas'd;
But she, that did a virgin seem,
Lays greedy hold upon a bird ;
And stands amaz'd to find his dear
A wild inhabitant of th' air. Shall now my joyful temples bind :
To these old tales, such nymphs as you No monarch but would give his crown,
Give credit, and still make them new ;. His arms might do what this has done.
The amorous now like wonders find, It was my Heaven's extremest sphere,
In the swift changes of your mind.
But, Cælia, if yon apprehend
The Muse of your incensed friend,
Nor would that he record your blame,
And make it live, repeat the same; A narrow compass! and yet there
Again deceive him, and again, Dwelt all that's good, and all that's fair:
And then he swears he'll not complain : Give me but what this ribband bound,
For still to be deluded so,
Is all the pleasure lovers know;
Not in the quarry, but the flight.
'Tis not your beauty can engage Transform myself to what you love.
My wary heart: Fool that I was! so much to prize
The Sun, in all his pride and rage, Those simple virtues you despise :
Has not that art; Fool! that with such dull arrows strove,
And yet he shines as bright as you, Or hop'd to reach a flying dove.
If brightness could our souls subdue.
'Tis not the pretty things you say,
I pluck'd it, though no better grown;
And now you see how full 'tis blown.
Still as I did the leaves inspire,
With such a purple light they shone, In some of our own sex we find.
As if they bad been made of fire, No, Flavia ! 'tis your love I fear:
And, spreading so, would fame anon:
All that was meant by air or sin,
To the young flower, my breath has done.
If our loose breath so much can do,
What may the same in forms of love, Dissemble well, and win the field.
Of purest love, and music too,
When Flavia it aspires to move?
When that, which lifeless buds persuades
To wax more soft, her youth invades?
Behold the brand of beauty tost !
See how the motion does dilate the flame! And all this place with roses strow,
Delighted Love his spoils does boast, If busy feet would let them grow.
And triumph in this game. Here Venus smil'd, to see blind Chance
Fire, to no place confin’d, Itself, before her son, advance;
Is both our wonder, and our fear; And a fair image to present,
Moving the mind, Of what the boy so long had meant.
As lightning hurled through the air. "Tivas such a chance as this made all The world into this order fall.
High Heaven the glory does increase Thus the first lovers, on the clay,
Of all her shining lamps this artful way: Of which they were composed, lay:
The Sun, in figures, such as these, So in their prime, with equal grace,
Joys with the Moon to play: Met the first patterns of our race.
To the sweet strains they advance, Then blush not, fair! or on him frown,
Which do result from their own spheres, Or wonder how you both came down;
As this nymph's dance But touch bim, and he'll tremble strait :
Moves with the numbers which she hears. How could he then support your weight? How could the youth, alas! but bend, When his whole Heaven upon him lean'd? If aught by him amiss were done, "Twas, that he let you rise so soon.
DISCOVERY OF A LADY'S PAINTING.
Pygmaleon's fate revers'd is mine;
His marble love took flesh and blood;
All that I worshipp'd as divine, The sense it has of lovers' cares :
That beauty! now 'tis understood, She, that has so far the rest outshin'd,
Appears to have no more of life,
Than that whereof he fram'd his wife.
As women yet, who apprehend
Some sudden cause of causeless fear, A storm, itself becomes obscure.
Although that seeming cause take end,
And they behold no danger near, i Hence 'tis, that I conceal my flame,
A shaking through their limbs they find,
Like leaves saluted by the wind :
So, though the beauty do appear
No beauty, which amaz'd me so; Their grief untold, should pine and die,
Yet from my breast I inot tear Than her bright morning, overcast
The passion, which from thence did grow; With sullen clouds, should be defac'd.
Nor yet out of my fancy rase
A real beauty, though too near,
The fond Narcissus did admire:
I doat on that which is no where; Big with many a coming rose,
The sign of beauty feeds my fire. This early bud began to blush,
No mortal flame was e'er so cruel And did but half itself disclose :
As this, which thus survives the fuel.
May not a thousand dangers sleep
In the smooth bosom of the deep?
No: 'tis so rockless and so clear,
That the rich bottom does appear
Pav'd all with precious things; not torn The silver favour which you gave,
From shipwreck'd vessels, but there born. In ink the shining point I dy'd,
Sweetness, truth, and every grace, And drench'd it in the sable wave;
Which time, and use, are wont to teach, When, griev'd to be so foully stain'd,
The eye may in a moment reach, On you it thus to me complain'd.
And read distinctly in her face. “ Suppose you had deserv'd to take
Some other nymphs, with colours faint, From her fair hand so fair a boon;
And pencil slow, may Cupid paint, Yet how deserved I to make
And a weak heart in time destroy ; So ill a change, who ever won
She has a stamp, and prints the boy : Immortal praise for what I wrote,
Can, with a single look, inflame Instructed by her noble thought ?
The coldest breast, the rudest tame. “ I, that expressed her commands
To mighty lords and princely dames, Always most welcome to their hands,
THE SELF-BANISHED. Proud that I would record their names, Must now be taught an humble style,
It is not that I love you less, Some meaner beauty to beguile.”
Than when before your feet I lay;
But, to prevent the sad increase
Of hopeless love, I keep away,
In vain, alas ! for every thing,
Which I have known belong to you, That your great self did ne'er indite,
Your form does to my fancy bring, Nor that, to one more noble, write.
And makes my old wounds bleed anew.
Already has a fever got,
Too late begins those shafts to shun,
Which Phæbus through his veins has shot. CALORIS! since first our calm of peace Was frighted hence, this good we find,
Too late he would the pain assuage, Your favours with your fears increase,
And to thick shadows does retire ; And growing mischiefs make you kind.
About with him he bears the rage,
And in his tainted blood the fire. So the fair tree, which still preserves
But vow'd I have, and never must
Your banish'd servant trouble you ;
For if I break, you may mistrust
The vow I made-to love you too, With treasure, from her yielding boughs.
While I listen to thy voice,
Chloris, I feel my life decay;
Calls my fleeting soul away.
To Heaven may go:
For all we know
That now she knows,
Tell her that's young,
That hadst thou sprung
Small is the worth
Bid her come forth,
Then die! that she
May read in thee:
OF LOVING AT FIRST SIGHT.
Or the new sea explore,
Already I behold the shore !
O fertile head! which every year
Could such a crop of wonder bear!
The teeming Earth did never bring,
So soon, so hard, so huge a thing:
Which might it never have been cast, Sad Galatea on the bank I spy'd:
(Each year's growth added to 'be last) Such was her look as sorrow taught to shine;
These lofty branches had supply'd
The Earth's hold sons' prodigious pride:
Heaven with these engines had been scald,
When mountains heap'd on mountains fail'd.
THYR. Fair nymph! I have in your delights no
Sees not my love, how Time resumes
The glory which he lent these flowers ? Which is so great, as not to wish relief. [grief,
Though none should taste of their perfumes, She that had all which Nature gives, or Chance,
Yet must they live but some few hours : Whom Fortune join'd with Virtue to advance
Time, what we forbear, devours ! To all the joys this island could afford,
Had Helen, or th' Egyptian queen“, The greatest mistress, and the kindest lord ;
Been near so thrifty of their graces; Who with the royal mixt her noble blood,
Those beauties must at length have been
The spoil of age, which finds out faces
A barren drought, or ceaseless shower,
Upon the autumn, or the spring, The virgin's part, the mother, and the wife,
And spare us neither fruit nor flower; So well she acted in the span of life,
Winter would not stay an hour. That, though few years (too few, alas!) she told,
Could the resolve of Love's neglect She seem'd in all things, but in beauty, old.
Preserve you from the violation As unripe fruit, whose verdant stalks do cleave
Of coming years, then more respect Close to the tree, which grieves no less to leave
Were due to so divine a fashion;
Nor would I indulge my passion.
THE MISER’S SPEECH:
Balls of this metal slack'd Atlanta's pace,
And on the amorous youth 5 bestow'd the race: Is soon removed from our wondering eyes!
Whom the rich spoils of cities overthrown But since the sisters 3 did so soon untwine
Had prostrated to Mars, could well advise
Th’adventurous lover how to gain the prize.
For, when he tum'd himself into a bribe,
Who can blame Danaë, or the brazen tower,
That they withstood not that almighty shower ?
Never till then did Love make Jove put on Of one so good, so lovely, and so yonng ! gal. 'Twas Hamilton !-whom I had nam'd before, Nor were it just, would he resume that shape,
A form more bright, and nobler, than his own : But naming her, grief lets me say no more.
That slack devotion should his thunder scape.
Those ass's ears on Midas' temples hung,
But fond repentance of his happy wish,
Because his meat grew metal like his dish. So we some antique hero's strength
Would Bacchus bless me so, I'd constant hold Learn by his lance's weight, and length;
Unto my wish, and die creating gold.
UPON BEN JONSON.
Mirror of poets! mirror of our age! Or dogs, dare such a monster chase?
Which, her whole face beholding on thy stage, Resembling, with each blow he strikes,
Pleas'd, and displeas'd, with her own faults, endures The charge of a whole troop of pikes.
A remedy like those whom music cures. 3 Parcæ.
4 Cleopatra. 5 Hippomenes.
IN A MASQUE.
ON MR. FLETCHER'S PLAYS... TO MR. SANDYS.
55 Thou hast alone those various inclinations,
Wherewith they now assist the choir Which Nature gives to ages, sexes, nations : Of angels, who their songs admire! So traced with thy all-resembling pen,
Whatever those inspired souls That whate'er custom has impos'd on men,
Were urged to express, did shake Or ill-got habit (which deforms them so,
The aged deep, and both the poles; That scarce a brother can his brother know)
Their numerous thunder could awake Is represented to the wondering eyes
Dull Earth, which does with Heaven consent
To all they wrote, and all they meant.
Say, sacred bard! what could bestow
Courage on thee, to soar so high? At leisure view and dress his nobler part.
Tell me, brave friend! what help'd thee so Narcissus, cozen'd by that flattering well,
To shake off all mortality ? Which nothing could but of his beauty tell,
To light this torch thou hast climb'd higher,
Than he 7 who stole celestial fire.
TO MR. HENRY LAWES,
But you can life to verses give.
As, when in open air we blow, So none could render thine ; which still escapes,
The breath (though strain'd) sounds flat and lov, Like Proteus, in variety of shapes ;
But if a trumpet take the blast, Who was, nor this, nor that; but all we find,
It lifts it high and makes it last :
So, in your airs our numbers drest,
Of nymphs, who, singing what we penn'd,
Our passions to themselves commend ;
While Love, victorious with thy art, FLETCHER! to thee we do not only owe
Governs at once their voice and heart. All those good plays, but those of others too:
You, by the help of tune and time, Thy wit repeated, does support the stage,
Can make that song, which was but rhyme:
Noy & plearling, no man doubts the cause,
What brave commander is not proud, to see Lets in a light but dim and faint;
So others, with division, hide
The light of sense, the poet's pride :
The writer's and the setter's skill
At once the ravish'd ears do fill. Deterr'd by that inimitable Maid 6.
Let those, which only warble long, And, when I venture at the comic style,
And gargle in their throats a song,
Content themselves with ut, re, mi :
TO SIR WILLIAM D’AVENANT,
UPON HIS TWO FIRST BOOKS OF GONDIBERT: WRITTEN IN But, if some brawny yeoman of the guard Step in, and toss the axletree a yard, Or more, beyond the furthest mark, the rest,
Tuus the wise nightingale, that leaves her home, Despairing stand; their sport is at the best.
Her native wood, when storms and winter come,
The drooping Hebrews banish’d, harps, unstrung,
At Babylon upon the willows bung : ON HIS TRANSLATION OF SOME PARTS OF THE BIBLE.
Yours sounds aloud, and tells us you excel
No less in courage, than in singing well; How bold a work attempts that pen,
While, unconcern'd, you let your country know, Which would enrich our vulgar tongue
They have impoverish'd themselves, not you: With the high raptures of those men,
Who, with the Muses' help, can mock those Fates, Who here with the same spirit sung,
Which threaten kingdoms, and disorder states. 6 The Maid's Tragedy.
9 Prometheus. & The attorney-general.