Imágenes de páginas

Waller can never die, of Life secure
As long-as Fame, or aged Time, endure.
A Tree of Life is Sacred Poetry 5
Whoe'er has leave to taste, can never die.
Many Pretenders to the Fruit there be,
Who, against Nature's Will do pluck the Tree 5
They nibble, and are JDamn'd: But only those
Have Life, who areljy partial Nature chose.
Waller was Nature's Darling, free to taste
Of all her Store; the Master of the Feast:
Not like old ^idam, stinted in his Choice,
But Lord of all the spacious paradise.
Mysterioufly the Bounteous Gods were kind,
And in his Favour Contradictions join'd.
Honest and Just, yet courted by the Great;
A Poet, yet a plentiful Estate:
Witty, yet wise; unenvy'd, and yet praised;
And shew'd the Age could be-wkh Merit pleas'd<
Malice and Spite, to Virtue certain,
Were dumb to him, nor durst his Fame oppose;
Those cruel Wolves he tam'd, their Rage disarm'd,'
And, with his tuneful Song, like Orpheus charm'd,

To Love, or Business, both he was enclin'd,
Could counsel Senates, or make Virgins kind:
The Factious, with persuasive Rhetorick, move,
Or teach disdainful Fair Ones how to love;
The stubborn of each Sex, to Reason bring:
Like sCato he could Speak, like Ovid Sing.
Our British Kings are rais'd above the Hearse,
Immortal made, in his immortal Verse.
No more are Mars and Javi Poetick Theams,
But the two peaceful Charleses, and Great Jamet%
Julia, and Delia, do no more delight,
But Sacharijf* now is only bright.
Nor can the Paphian Goddess longer move 5
But Gloriana is the Queen of Love.
The Father of so many Gods is he,
He must himself be sure some Deity,

Minerva and ^Apollo shall submit,

And Walter be the only God of Wit.
This equal Rife be to his Merit given,,
On Earth the King, the God of Versc in Heaven.

Ariadne deserted by Theseus, as /befits upon a Rock in the IJIand Naxos, thus complains.

1 .. By Mr. Cahtwr Ight.

Tllefeus.' O Theseus heatk! but yet in vain
Alas deserred I complarn!
It was some neighbouring Rock, more soft than he,

Whose hollow Bowels piried me,
And bearing back that false, and cruel Name,
Did comfort and revenge my Flame.

Tell me you Gods, who e'er yon are,
Why, O why made you him so fair:

And tell me, Wretch, why thou

Mad'st not thy self more true? Beauty from him may Copies take, And moreMajestick Heroes make,

And falshood learn a while,

From him too, to beguile.
Restore my Clew,
'Tis here most due,
For >ri« a Labyrinth of more subtile Art,,
To have so fair a Face, so foul a Heart.

The ravenous Vulture rear his Breast,
The rowling Stone disturb his Rest t

Let him next feel

Ix'mn'r Wheel,

And add one Fable more

To cursing Poets store; And then—yet rather let him live, and twine His Woof of days, with fomethredstoln fromnrinej

But if you'll torture him, how e'et,

Torture my Heart, you'll sind him there.

Till my Eyes drank up Trls,

And his drank mine,
I ne'er thought Souls might kiss,
And Spirits join:
Pictures rill then
Took me as much as Men,

Nature and Art
Moving alike my Heart.
Sut his fair Visage made me sind
Pleasures and Fears,
Hopes, Sighs, and Tears,
As several Seasons of the Mind.

Should thine Eye, Venits, on his dwell,
Thou wouldst invire hiTn to thy Shell,
And Caught by that live Jet
Venture the second Net,
And afrer all thy Dangers, faithless he,
Shouldst thou but slumbet, would forsake ev'n thee.

The Streams so court the yielding Banks,
And gliding thence ne'er pay their Thanks.
The Winds so woo the Flow'rs,
Whisp'ring among f,esh Bow'rs,
And having robb'd them of their Smells,
Fly thence perfum'd to other Cells.
This is familiar Hare to Smile and Kill,
Though nothing please thee, yet my Ruin wu%
Death hovet, hover o'er me then,
Waves let your Crystal Womb

Be both my Fare, and Tomb,
I'll sooner trust the Sea, than Men,

And yet O Nymphs below who sit,

In whose swift Floods his Vows he writ;

Snatch a sharp Diamond fiora the richer Mines,

And in some Mirrour grave these sadder Lines,
Which let some God convey
To him, that so he may
In that both read at once, and fee
Those looks that caus'd my Destiny.

In Thetis Arms I ^iriadnc sleep,

Drown'd first by my own Tears, then in the deep;

Twice banished, first by Love, and then by Hate,.

The Life that I prescrv'd became my Fate;

Who leaving all, was by him left alone,

That from a Monster freed, himself prov'd one,

That then I—But look.' O mine Eyes
Be now true Spies,
Yonder, yonder
Comes my Dear,
Now my Wonder,
Once my Fear.
See Satyrs dance along
In a confused Throng,
While Horns and Pipes rude noils
Do mad their lusty Joys,
Roses his sorehead Crown,
And that recrbwns the Flow'rs,
Where he walks up and down
He makes the deserts Bow'rs,
The Ivy, and the Grape
Hide, not adorn his Shape.
And Green Leaves Cloath his waving Red,
fTiseithei Theseus, or some God,


The Deserted SWAIN.

TH E Muses Darling, Pride of all the Plains,
Daphni;, the soft, the swettest of the Swains
Long reign'd in Love, for every Nymph heview'd,
He caught, he only lookt and he subdu'd:
But now the melancholly Youth rerires
Thro' Ihady Groves, and wanders thro' the Briars
Sad and alone : At last beneath a shade ~%

Of spreading Elm and Beech sopinely laid »
He sigh'd, he shook his Head, and thus he said: *
When I so long, so faithfully did wooe,
And did what Constancy and Truth could do,
Why is my Suit refus'd, my Prayers in vain,
And warm Endeavours damp'd by cold disdain?
Must Slights the lean rewards of Virtue prove!
Unhappy Da,phnit, fatal in thy Love! tBee^

Long drought the Flow'rs, and storms the lab'ring
And unsuccessful Lov» hath ruin'd thee.
This Heaven, (had I observ'd the Omen well)
As conscious of my Fare, did oft forerell;
It show'd my flatrering Hope should disappeat,
And waste like Vapours tost in slitring Air.
Last Night when careftrl of my Flocks I went
To see my Lambs were fed, and Folds were pent,^
A Flame shone round my Head, but soon the Light
Decay'd, and all around stood deepest Night.
But is llranl a so averse to Love!
Could none of all the Rival Shepherds move?
Ah, cÆgrn, how I envy thy Success!
Thy Fortune grearet, tho' thy Charms were less:
Without a long farigue, and redious Suit
The Door was open's, and you reach'd the Fruit;
Oh how I pine at thy surprizing Joys!
Dit Dtphnis, she is parrial in her Choice,
set ionce I hop'd (what cannot Love perswade?)
Mere kind return* srem the obliging Maid r

« AnteriorContinuar »