Imágenes de páginas

Come, let us haste, the stars grow high, But night sits monarch yet in the mid sky.

The scene changes, presenting Ludlow town and the Presi

dent's castle; then come in Country Dancers, after them the Attendant Spirit, with the two Brothers, and the Lady.


Gentle Swain, at thy request,
I am here.

Sp. Goddess dear,
We implore thy powerful hand
To undo the charmed band
Of true virgin here distressed,
Through the furce and through the wile,
Of unblessed enchanter vile.

Sabr. Shepherd, 'tis my office best
To help ensnared chastity:
Brightest Lady, look on me;
Thus I sprinkle on thy breast
Drops, that from my fountain pure
I have kept, of precious cure;
Thrice upon thy finger's tip,
Thrice upon thy rubied lip:
Next this marble venomed seat,
Smeared with gums of glutinous heat,
I touch with chaste palms moist and cold:-
Now the spell hath lost his hold,
And I must haste, ere morning hour,
To wait ir. Amphitrite's bower.

Sp. Back, Shepherds, back; enough you play, Till next sun-shine holiday: Here be, without duck or nod, Other trippings to be trod Of lighter toes, and such court guise As Mercury did first devise, With the mincing dryades, On the lawns, and on the leas. This second Song presents them to their Father and Mother. Noble Lord, and Lady bright, I have brought ye new delight; Here behold so goodly grown Three fair branches of your own; Heaven hath timely tried their youth, Their faith, their patience, and their truth, And sent them here through hard assays With a crown of deathless praise, To triumph in victorious dance O'er sensual Folly and Intemperance.

Sabrina descends, and the Lady rises out of her seat.

Sp. Virgin, daughter of Locrine
Sprung of old Anchises' line,
May thy brimmed waves for this
Their full tribute never miss
From a thousand petty rills,
That tumble down the snowy hills:
Summer drouth, or singed air,
Never scorch thy tresses fair,
Nor wet October's torrent flood
Thy molten crystal fill with mud;
May thy billows roll ashore
The beryl and the golden ore;
May thy lofty head be crowned

many a tower and terrace round, And here and there thy banks upon With groves of myrrh and cinnamon.

Come, Lady, while Heaven lends us grace, Let us fly this cursed place, Lest the sorcerer us entice With some other new device. Not a waste or needless sound, Till we come to holier ground; I shall be your faithful guide Through chis gloomy covert wide, And not many furlongs thence Is your Father's residence, Where this night are met in state Many a friend to gratulate His wished presence; and beside All the swains, that there abide, With jigs and rural dance resort; We shall catch them at their sport, And our sudden coming there Will double all their mirth and cheer:

The Dances ended, the Spirit epiloguises. Sp. To the ocean now I fly, And those happy climes that lie Where day never shuts his eye, Up in the broad fields of the sky: There I suck the liquid air All amidst the gardens fair Of Hesperus, and his daughters three That sing about the golden tree: Along the crisped shades and bowers Revels the spruce and jocund Spring; The Graces, and the rosy-bosom’d Hours, Thither all their bounties bring; There eternal Summer dwells, And West-Winds, with musky wing, About the cedared alleys fling Nard and Cassia's balmy smells. Iris there with humid bow Waters the odorous banks, that blow Flowers of more mingled hue Than the purfled scarf can shew; And drenches with Elysian dew (List, mortals, if your ears be true) Beds of hyacinth and roses, Where young Adonis oft reposes, Waxing well of his deep wound In slumber soft, and on the ground Sadly sits th’ Assyrian queen: But far above in spangled sheen Celestial Cupid, her famed son, advanced, Holds his dear Psyche sweet entranced,

After her wandering labours long,
Till free consent the gods among
Make her his eternal bride,
And from her fair unspotted side
Two blissful twins are to be born,
Youth and Joy; so Jove hath sworn.

But now my task is smoothly done,
I can fly, or I can run,
Quickly to the green earth's end,

Where the bow'd welkin slow doth bend;
And from thence can soar as soon
To the corners of the moon.

Mortals, that would follow me,
Love Virtue; she alone is free:
She can teach ye how to climb
Higher than the sphery chime;
Or if Virtue feeble were,
Heaven itself would stoop to her.

Poems on Several Occasions.


.Baccare frontem
Gingite, ne vati noceat mala lingua futuro. — Virgil, Eclog. 7.


Could Heaven for pity thee so strictly doom?

Oh no! for something in thy face did shine ON THE DEATH OF A FAIR INFANT Above mortality, that showed thou wast divine. DYING OF A COUGH.

Resolve me then, O soul most surely blest, O Fairest flower, no sooner blown but blasted,

(If so it be that thou these plaints dost hear;) Soft silken primrose fading timelessly,

Tell me, bright Spirit, where'er thou hoverest, Summer's chief honour, if thou had’st outlasted Bleak Winter's force that made thy blossom dry; Or in the Elysian fields, (if such there were ;)

Whether above that high first-moving sphere, For he, being amorous on that lovely dye That did thy cheek envermeil, thought to kiss, And why from us so quickly thou did’st take thy

O say me true, if thou wert mortal wight, But killed, alas! and then bewailed his fatal bliss.

flight? For since grim Aquilo, his charioteer,

Wert thou some star which from the ruined roof By boisterous rape the Athenian damsel got, Of shaked Olympus by mischance did'st fall; He thought it touched his deity full near, Which careful Jove in nature's true behoof If likewise he some fair one wedded not,

Took up, and in fit place did reinstall ? Thereby to wipe away the infamous blot Or did of late earth's sons besiege the wall

Of long uncoupled bed, and childless eld, Of sheeny Heaven, and thou some goddess fled Which ʼmongst the wanton gods, a foul reproach Amongst us here below to hide thy nectared head ? was held.

Or wert thou that just Maid, who once before So, mounting up in icy-pearled car,

Forsook the hated earth, O tell me sooth, Through middle empire of the freezing air

And camest again to visit us once more ? He wandered long, till thee he spied from far;

Or wert thou that sweet smiling youth? There ended was his quest, there ceased his care: Or that crowned matron sage, white-robed Truth? Down he descended from his snow-soft chair,

Or any other of that heavenly brood But, all unwares, with his cold kind embrace,

Let down in cloudy throne to do the world some Unhoused thy virgin soul from her fair biding place.

good ?

Or wert thou of the golden-winged host, Yet art thou not inglorious in thy fate;

Who, having clad thyself in human weed, For so Apollo, with unweeting hand,

To earth from thy prefixed seat did'st post, Whilom did slay his dearly loved mate,

And after short abode fly back with speed, Young Hyacinth, born on Eurotas' strand :

As if to show what creatures Heaven doth breed; Young Hyacinth, the pride of Spartan land;

Thereby to set the hearts of men on fire, But then transformed him to a purple flower:

Toscorn the sordid world, and unto Heaven aspire ? Alack, that so tochange thee Winter had no power!

But oh! why did'st thou not stay here below Yet can I not persuade me thou art dead, To bless us with thy heavenly-loved innocence, Or that thy corse corrupts in earth's dark womb, To slake his wrath, whom sin hath made our foe, Or that thy beauties lie in wormy bed,

To turn swift-rushing black perdition hence, Hid from the world in a low delved tomb; Or drive away the slaughtering pestilence,

To stand 'twixt us and our deserved smart? May tell at length how green eyed Neptune raves, But thou can’st best perform that office where thou In Heaven's defiance mustering all his waves; art.

Then sing of secret things that came to pass

When beldam Nature in her cradle was; Then thou, the mother of so sweet a child,

And last of kings, and queens, and heroes old, Her false-imagined loss cease to lament,

Such as the wise Demodocus once told And wisely learn to curb thy sorrows wild;

In solemn songs at king Alcinous' feast, Think what a present thou to God hast sent,

While sad Ulysses' soul, and all the rest, And render him with patience what he lent; Are held with his melodious harmony This if thou do, he will an offspring give,

In willing chains and sweet captivity. That, till the world's last end, shall make thy name But fie, my wandering muse, how thou dost stray! to live.

Expectance calls thee now another way;
Thou knowest it must be now thy only bent

To keep in compass of thy predicament:

Then quick about thy proposed business come, At a Vacation Exercise in the college, part Latin, part Eng. That to the next I may resign my room. lish The Latin speeches ended, the English thus began.

Then Ens is represented as father of the predicaments his two Hail, native Language, that by sinews weak sons, whereof the eldest stcod for substance with his canons, Did'st move my first endeavouring tongue to speak,

which Ens, thus speaking, explains. And madest imperfect words with childish trips Good luck befriend thee, son; for at thy birth, Half unpronounced, slide through my infant lips, The fairy ladies danced upon the hearth; Driving dumb Silence from the portal door,

Thy drowsy nurse hath sworn she did them spy Where he had mutely sat two years before !

Come tripping to the room where thou didst lie, Here I salute thee, and thy pardon ask,

And sweetly singing round about thy bed, That now I use thee in my latter task:

Strew all their blessings on thy sleeping head. Small loss it is that thence can come unto thee,

She heard them give thee this, that thou shouldst I know my tongue but little grace can do thee:

still Thou needest not be ambitious to be first,

From eyes of mortals walk invisible: Believe me I have thither packed the worst : Yet there is something that doth force my fear; } And, if it happens as I did forecast,

For once it was my dismal hap to hear The daintiest dishes shall be served up last,

A sybil old, bow-bent with crooked age, I pray thee then deny me not thy aid,

That far events full wisely could presage, For this same small neglect that I have made: And in time's long and dark prospective glass But haste thee straight to do me once a pleasure, Foresaw what future days should bring to pass; And from thy wardrobe bring the chiefest treasure. “ Your son,” said she, (“ nor can you it prevent,) Not those new fangled toys, and trimming slight Shall subject be to many an accident. Which takes our late fantastics with delight; O'er all his brethren he shall reign as king, But cull those richest robes, and gayest attire, Yet every one shall make him underling; Which deepest spirits, and choicest wits desire.

And those that can not live from him asunder, I have some naked thoughts that rove about, Ungratefully shall strive to keep him under; And loudly knock to have their passage out; In worth and excellence he shall outgo them, And, weary of their place do only stay

Yet, being above them, he shall be below them; Till thou hast decked them in thy best array; From others he shall stand in need of nothing, That so they may, without suspect or fears, Yet on his brother shall depend for clothing. Fly swistly to this fair assembly's ears;

To find a foe it shall not be his hap;
Yet I had rather, if I were to choose,


shall lull him in her flowery lap;
Thy service in some graver subject use, Yet shall he live in strife, and at his door
Such as may make thee search thy coffers round, Devouring war shall never cease to roar;
Before thou clothe my fancy in fit sound: Yea, it shall be his natural property
Such where the deep transported mind may soar To harbour those that are at enmity.
Above the wheeling poles, and at Heaven's door What power, what force, what mighty spell, if not
Look in, and see each blissful deity

Your learned hands, can loose this Gordian knot?" How he before the thunderous throne doth lie, Listening to what unshorn Apollo sings

The next Quantity and Quality spake in prose, then Rela

tion was called by his name. To the touch of golden wires, while Hebe brings Immortal nectar to her kingly sire:

Rivers, arise; whether thou be the son Then passing through the spheres of watchful fire of utmost Tweed, or Oose, or gulfy Dun, And misty regions of wide air next under, Or Trent, who, like some earthborn giant spreads And hills of snow, and lofts of piled thunder, His thirty arms along the indented meads;


Or sullen Mole, that runneth underneath; Only with speeches fair
Or Severn swift, guilty of maiden's death; She woos the gentle air
Or rocky Avon, or of sedgy Lee,

To hide her guilty front with innocent snow;
Or coaly Time, or ancient hallowed Dee; And on her naked shame,
Or Humber loud, that keeps the Scythian's name; Pollute with sinful blame,
Or Medway smooth, or royal towered Thame. The saintly veil of maiden white to throw;
[The rest was prose.)

Confounded, that
Should look so near upon her foul deformities.

Maker's eyes

But he, her fears to cease,
ON THE MORNING OF CHRIST'S Sent down the meek eyed Peace;

She, crowned with olive green, came softly

sliding COMPOSED 1629.

Down through the turning sphere, This is the month, and this the happy morn, His ready harbinger, Wherein the Son of Heaven's eternal King, With turtle wing the amorous clouds dividing; Of wedded maid and virgin mother born, And, waving wide her myrtle wand, Our great redemption from above did bring; She strikes an universal peace through sea and For so the holy sages once did sing,

land. That he our deadly forfeit should release, And with his Father work us a perpetual peace. Nor war, or battle's sound

Was heard the world around: That glorious form, that light unsufferable, The idle spear and shield were high up hung; And that far-beaming blaze of majesty,

The hooked chariot stood, Wherewith he wont at heaven's high council- Unstained with hostile blood; table

The trumpet spake not to the armed throng; To sit the midst of Trinal Unity,

And kings sat still with awful eye, He laid aside; and, here with us to be,

As if they surely knew their sovereign Lord was Forsook the courts everlasting day,

by. And chose with us a darksome house of mortal clay.

But peaceful was the night,

Wherein the Prince of light
Say, heavenly Muse, shall not thy sacred vein His reign of peace upon the earth began:
Afford a present to the Infant God?

The winds, with wonder whist,
Hast thou no verse, no hymn, or solemn strain, Smoothly the waters kist,
To welcome him to this his new abode,

Whispering new joys to the mild ocean,
Now while the Heaven, by the sun's team untrod, Who now hath quite forgot to rave,

Hath took no print of the approaching light, While birds of calm sit brooding on the charmed And all the spangled host keep watch in squadrons bright?

The stars, with deep amaze, See, how from far, upon the eastern road

Stand fixed in steadfast gaze. The star-led wizards, haste with odours sweet; Bending one way their precious influence; O run, prevent them with thy humbie ode, And will not take their flight, And lay it lowly at his blessed feet:

For all the morning light, Have thou the honour first thy Lord to greet, Or Lucifer that often warned them thence;

And join thy voice unto the angel choir But in their glimmering orbs did glow, From out his secret altar, touched with hallowed Until their Lord himself bespake, and bid them go. fire.

And, though the shady gloom

Had given day her room, It was the winter wild,

The sun himself withheld his wonted speed, While the Heaven-born child,

And bid his head for shame,
All meanly wrapt, in the rude manger lies; As his inferior flame
Nature, in awe to him,

The new enlightened world no more should Had dofted her gaudy trim,

need; With her great Master so to sympathize: He saw a greater sun appear It was no season then for her

Than his bright throne, or burning axletree, could To wanton with the sun, her lusty paramour. bear.



The shepherds on the lawn,

For if such holy song Or e'er the point of dawn,

Inwrap our fancy long, Sat simply chatting in a rustic row;

Time will run back, and fetch the age of gold; Full little thought they then,

And speckled vanity That the mighty Pan

Will sicken soon and die, Was kindly come to live with them below; And leprous Sin will melt from earthly mould; Perhaps their loves, or else their sheep,

And hell itself will pass away, Was all that did their silly thoughts so busy And leave her dolorous mansions to the peering keep.


When such music sweet

Yea, Truth and Justice then Their hearts and ears did greet,

Will down return to men, As never was by mortal finger strook ;

Orbed in a rainbow; and, like glories wearing, Divinely warbled voice

Mercy will sit between, Answering the stringed noise,

Throned in celestial sheen; As all their souls in blissful rapture took; With radiant feet the tissued clouds down steerThe air, such pleasures loath to lose,

ing; With thousand echoes still prolongs each heaven- And Heaven, as at some festival, ly close.

Will open wide the gates of her high palace hall,


Nature that heard such sound,

But wisest Fate says no,
Beneath the hollow round

This must not yet be so,
Of Cynthia's seat, the airy region thrilling, The babe yet lies in smiling infancy,
Now was almost won

That on the bitter cross
To think her part was done,

Must redeem our loss:
And that her reign had here its last fulfilling ; So both himself and us to glorify:
She knew such harmony alone

Yet first to those ychained in sleep, ! Could hold all Heaven and earth in happier union. The wakeful trump of doom must thunder through

the deep At last surrounds their sight A globe of circular light.

With such a horrid clang That with long beams the shamefaced night ar- As on Mount Sinai rang, rayed;

While the red fire and smouldering clouds outThe helmed cherubim,

brake: And sworded seraphim,

The aged earth aghast, Are seen in glittering ranks with wings dis- With terror of that blast, played;

Shall from the surface to the centre shake; Harping in loud and solemn choir,

When, at the world's last session, With unexpressive notes to Heaven's new-born The dreadful Judge in middle air shall spread his Heir.



Such music (as 'tis said)

And then at last our bliss Before was never made,

Full and perfert is, But when of old the sons of morning sung, But now begins; for from this happy day, While the Creator great

The old Dragon, under ground
His constellation set,

In straiter limits bound,
And the well balanced world on hinges hung; Not half so far casts his usurped sway;
And cast the dark foundations deep,

And, wroth to see his kingdom fail,
And bid the weltering waves their oozy channel Swindges the scaly horror of his folded tail.

The oracles are dumb, Ring out, ye crystal spheres,

No voice or hideous hum Once bless our human ears,

Runs through the arched roof in words deceiv. (If ye have power to touch our senses so;) ing. And let your silver chime

Apollo from his shrine Move in melodious time,

Can no more divine, And let the base of Heaven's deep organ blow; With hollow shriek the steep of Delphos leaving. And, with your ninefold harmony,

No nightly trance, or breathed spell, Make up full concert to the angelic symphony. Inspires the pale-eyed priest from the prophetic cell.

« AnteriorContinuar »