« ПредыдущаяПродолжить »
Damætas shall with Lictian Ægon join,
Close hugs the charmer, and asham'd to yield, To celebrate with songs the rites divine.
Though he has lost the day, yet keeps the field. Alphisibæus with a reeling gait Shall the wild Satyrs' dancing imitate.
When, with a sigh, the fair Panthea said, When to the nymphs we vows and offerings pay, “What pity 'tis, ye gods, that all When we with solemn rites our fields survey,
The noblest warriors soonest fa!l !" These honours ever shall be tbine: the boar Then with a kiss she gently rear'd his head; Shall in the fields and hills delight no more; Arm'd hiin again to fight, for nobly she No more in streams the fish, in flowers the bee, More lov'd the combat than the victory. Ere, Daphnis, we forget our songs to thee: Offerings to thee the shepherds every year But, more enrag'd for being beat before, Shall, as to Bacchus and to Ceres, bear:
With all his strength he does prepare To thee, as to those gods, shall vows be made,
More fercely to renew the war; And vengeance wait on those by whom they are Nor ceas'd he till the noble prize he bore: not paid.
Ev'n her such wondrous courage did surprise ;
She hugs the dart that wounded her, and dies. MOPSU'S. What present worth thy verse can Mopsus find? Not the soft whispers of the southern wind So much delight my ear, or charm my mind;
A SONG Not sounding shores beat by the murmuring tide, THROUGH mournful shades, and solitary groves, Nor rivers that througb stony valleys glide. Fann'd with the sighs of uusuccessful loves,
Wild with despair, young Thyrsis strays, MENALCAS.
Thinks over all Amyra's heavenly charms, First you this pipe shall take; and 'tis the same Thinks he now sees her in another's arms; That play'd poor Corydon's' unhappy flame: Then at some willow's root himself he lays, The same that taught me Melibeus'sheep. The loveliest, most unhappy swain;
And thus to the wild woods he does complain: You then shall for my sake this sheephook keep, “ How art thou chang'd, 0 Thyrsis, since the time Adorn'd with brass, which I have oft deny'd When thou could'st love and hope without a crime; To young Antigenes in his beauty's pride:
When Nature's pride and Earth's delight, And who could think he then in vain coul, sue?
As through her shady evening grove she past, Yet him I would deny, and freely give it you, And a new day did all around her cast,
Could see, nor be offended at the sight,
The melting, sighing, wishing swain,
That now must never hope to wish again! UPON THE COPY OF VERSES MADE BY HIMSELF “ Riches and titles! why should they prevail;
ON THE LAST COPY IN HIS BOOK 3. Where duty, love, and adoration, fail? When Shame, for all my foolish youth bad writ,
Lovely Amyra, shouldst thou prize Advis'd 'twas time the rhyming trade to quit,
The empty noise that a fine title makes;
Or the vile trash that with the vulgar takes, Time to grow wise, and be no more a witThe noble fire, that animates thy age,
Before a heart that bleeds for thee, and dies? Once more inflam'd me with poetic rage. (young, Your rigour kills, nor triumph o'er the slain."
Unkind! but pity the poor swain
Beneath the myrtle's amorous shade
The charming fair Corinna lies Out from the body's broken cage it fies.
All melting in desire,
Quenching in tears those flowing eyes
What cannot tears and beauty do ?
For whom those crystal streams did flow;
And though he ne'er before
To her eyes brightest rays did bow,
Weeps too, and does adore.
So when the Heavens serene and clear,
Gilded with gaudy light appear, Though vanquish'd, yet unknowing to retire : Each craggy rock, and every stone,
Their native rigour keep; I Virg. Ecl. ii.
2 Ecl. iii.
But when in rain the clouds fall down, 3 See Waller's Poems.
The hardest marble weeps.
TO MR. HENRY DICKINSON,
Shakespeare, 'tis true, this tale of Troy first told,
But, as with Ennius Virgil did of old,
You found it dirt, but you have made it gold.
A dark and undigested heap it lay,
Like Chaos ere the dawn of infant Day,
But you did first the cheerful light display.
Of atoms, by blind Chance together hurld,
But you have made such order through it shine Bring new supplies of novel, farce, or play!
As loudly speaks the workmanship divine. Like damn'd French pensioners, with foreign aid
Boast then, O Troy! and triumph in thy flames, Their native land with nonsense to invade,
That make thee sung by three such mighty names. Till we're o'er-run more with the wit of France,
Had Ilium stood, Homer had ne'er been read, Her nauseous wit, than with her protestants.
Nor the sweet Mantuan swan his wings display'd, But, sir, this noble piece obligeth more
Nor thon, the third, but equal in renown, Than all their trash hath plagu'd the town before:
Thy matchless skill in this great subject shown. With various learning, knowledge, strength of Not Priam's self, nor all the Trojan state, thought,
Was worth the saving at so dear a rate. Order and art, and solid judgment fraught;
But they now flourish, by you mighty three, No less a piece than this could make amends
In verse more lasting than their walls could be: For all the trumpery France amongst us sends.
Which never, never shall like them decay, Nor let ill-grounded superstitious fear
Being built by hands divine as well as they; Fright any but the fools from reading here.
Never till, our great Charles being sung by you, The sacred oracles may well endure
Old Troy shall grow less famous than the Nex.
PARIS TO HELEN.
TRANSLATED FROM OVID'S EPISTLES.
TO MR. DRYDEN,
Paris, having sailed to Sparta for the obtaining of
Helen, whom Venus had promised him as the ON HIS TROILUS AND CRESSIDA, 1679. reward of his adjudging the prize of beauty to
her, was nobly there entertained by Menelaus, And will our master poet then admit
Helen's husband; but he, being called away to A young beginner in the trade of Wit,
Crete, to take possession of what was left him To bring a plain and rustic Muse, to wait
by his grandfather Atreus, commends his guest On his in all her glorious pomp and state ?
to the care of his wife. In his absence Paris Can an unknown, unheard-of, private name, courts her, and writes to her the following epistle. Add any lustre to so bright a fame? No! sooner planets to the Sun may give That light which they themselves from him derive. All health, fair nymph, thy Paris sends to thee, Nor could my sickly fancy entertain
Though you, and only you, can give it me.
Shall I then speak? or is it needless grown
Does not my love itself too open lay,
And all I think in all I do betray? Than when we drops into the ocean pour,
If not, oh! may it still in secret lie, Has leave his tongue in praises to employ
Till Time with our kind wishes shall comply; (Th’ accepted language of officious joy):
Till all our joys may to us come sincere, So I in loud applauses may reveal
Nor lose their price by the allay of fear! To you, great king of verse, my loyal zeal,
In vain I strive; who can that fire conceal, May tell with what majestic grace and mien Which does itself by its own light reveal? Your Muse displays herself in every scene;
But, if you needs would hear my treinbling tongue In what rich robes she bas fair Cressid drest, Speak what my actions have declar'd so long, And with what gentle fires inflam'd her breast. I love; you 've there the word that does impart How when those fading eyes her aid implord, The truest message from my bleeding heart: She all their sparkling lustre has restor'd,
Forgive me, madam, that I thus confess Added more charms, fresh beauties on them shed, To you, my fair physician, my disease, And to new youth recall'd the lovely maid.
And with such looks this suppliant paper grace, How nobly she the royal brothers draws;
As best become the beauties of that face. How great their quarrel, and how great their cause! May that smooth brow no angry wrinkle wear, How justly rais'd! and by what just degrees, But be your looks as kind as they are fair. In a sweet calm does the rough tempest cease! Some pleasure 'tis to think these lines shall find Envy not now “ the god-like Roman's rage;" An entertainment at your hands so kind. Hector and Troilus, darlings of our age,
For this creates a hope, that I too may, Shall hand in hand with Brutus tread the stage. Receiv'd by you, as happy be as they.
Ah! may that hope be true! nor I complain “ Pear not; thou art Jove's substitute below, That Venus promis'd you to me in vain :
The prize of heavenly beauty to bestow; For know, lest you through ignorance offend Contending goddesses appeal to you, The gods, 'tis Heaven that me does hither send. Decide their
strife.” He spake, and up be flex, None of the meanest of the powers divine, Then, bolder grown, I throw my fears away, That first inspir'd, still favours my design. And every one with curious eyes survey: Great is the prize 1 seek, 1 must confess,
Each of them merited the victory, But neither is my due or merit less:
And I their doubtful judge was griev'd to see, Venus has promis'd she would you assign, That one must have it, when deserv'd by three. Fair as herself, to be for ever mine.
But yet that one there was which most prevaild, Guided by her, my Troy I left for thee,
And with more powerful charms my heart assail'd: Nor feard the dangers of the faithless sea. Ah! would you know who thus my breast could She, with a kind and an auspicious gale,
move? Drove the good ship, and stretch'd out every sail : Who could it be but the fair queen of love? For she, who sprung out of the teeming deep, With mighty bribes they all for conquest strive, Still o'er the maio does her wide empire keep, Juno will empires, Pallas valour give, Still may she keep it ! and as she with ease Whilst I stand doubting which I should prefer, Allays the wrath of the most angry seas,
Empire's soft ease, or glorious toils of war; So may she give my stormy mind some rest, But Venus gently smild, and thus she spake: And calm the raging tempest of my breast, “ They're dangerous gifts: O do not, do not take! And bring home all my sighs and all my vows I'll make thee love's immortal pleasures know, To their wish'd harbour and desir'd repose ! And joys that in full tides for ever flow. Hither my flames I brought, not found them For, if you judge the conquest to be mine,
Fair Leda's fairer daughter shall be thine.” I my whole course by their kind light did steer: She spake; and I gave her the conquest due, For I by no mistake or storm was tost
Both to her beauty, and her gift of you. Against my will upon this happy coast.
Meanwhile (my angry stars more gentle grown) Nor as a merchant did I plow the main
I am acknowledg'd royal Priam's son. To venture life, like sordid fools, for gain.
All the glad court, all Troy does celebrate, No; may the gods preserve my present store, With a new festival, my change of fate. And only give me you to make it more!
And as I now languish and die for thee, Nor to admire the place came I so far;
So did the beauties of all Troy for me. I have towns richer than your cities are.
You o'er a heart with sovereign power do reign; 'Tis you I seek, to me from Venus due;
For which a thousand virgins sigh'd in vain : You were my wish, before your charms I knew. Nor did queens only fly to my embrace, Bright images of you my mind did draw,
But nymphs of form divine, and heavenly race. Long ere my eyes the lovely object saw.
I all their loves with cold disdain represt, Nor wonder that, with the swift-winged dart, Since hopes of you first fir'd my longing breast. At such a distance you could wound my heart : Your charming form all day my fancy drew, So Fate ordain'd; and lest you fight with Fate, And when night came, my dreams were all of Hear and believe the truth I shall relate.
you. Now in my mother's womb shut up 1 lay, What pleasures then must you yourself impart, Her fatal burthen longing for the day,
Whose shadows only so surpris'd my heart ! When she in a mysterious dream was told, And oh! how did I burn approaching nigher, Her teeming womb a burning torch did hold; That was so scorch'd by so remote a fire! Frighted she rises, and her vision she
Por now no longer could my hopes refrain To Priam tells, and to his prophets he;
From seeking their wish'd object through the main. They sing, that I all Troy should set on fire; I fell the stately pine, and every tree But sure Fate meant the flames of my desire. That best was fit to cut the yielding sea, For fear of this, among the swains expos'd, Fetch'd from Gargarian hills, tall firs I cleare, My native greatness every thing disclos'd. And Ida naked to the winds I leave, Beauty, and strength, and courage, join'd in one, Stiff oaks I bend, and solid planks I form, Through all disguise, spoke me a monarch's son. And every ship with well-knit ribs I arm. A place there is in Ida's thickest grove,
To the tall mast I sails and streamers join, With oaks and fir-trees shaded all above,
And the gay poops with painted gods do shine. The grass here grows untouched by bleating flocks, But on my ship does only Venus stand Or mountain goat, or the laborious ox. [pride, With little Cupid smiling in her hand, From hence Troy's towers, magnificence, and Guide of the way she did herself command. Leaning against an aged oak, I spy'd.
My fleet thus rigg'd, and all my thoughts on thee, When straight methought I heard the trembling I long to plow the vast Ægéan sea; ground
My anxious parents my desires withstand, With the strange noise of trampling feet resound. And both with pious tears my stay commando In the same instant Jove's great messenger, Cassandra too, with loose disheveli'd hair, On all bis wings borne through the yielding air, Just as our hasty ships to sail prepare, Lighting before my wondering eyes did stand, Full of prophetic fury cries aloud, His golden rod shone in his sacred hand :
“O) whither steers my brother through the flood? With him three charming goddesses there came, Little, ah! little dost thou know or heed Juno, and Pallas, and the Cyprian dame.
To what a raging fire these waters lead!" With an unusual fear I stood amaz'd,
True were her fears, and in my breast I feel Till thus the god my sinking courage rais’d: The scorching flames her fury did foretel,
The emptiness and poverty of Greece!
227 Yet out I sail, and, favoured by the wind, I speak not this, your Sparta to disgrace, On your blest shore my wish’d-for haven find; For wheresoe'er your life began its race Your husband then, so Heaven, kind Heaven or Must be to me the happiest, dearest place. dains,
Yet Sparta's poor; and you, that should be drest In his own house his rival entertains,
In all the riches of the shining East, Shows me whate'er in Sparta does delight
Should understand how ill that sordid place The curious travellers inquiring sight:
Suits with the beauty of your charming face; But I, who only long'd to gaze on you,
That face with costly dress and rich attire Could taste no pleasure in the idle shew.
Should shine, and make the gazing world admire.
He was a Trojan, and of our great line,
The goddess of the Morning blushing led;
Yet Venus' self to his desir'd embrace,
With all her train of little Loves, did Ay, Do I speak false? Rather Report does so,
And in his arms learn'd for a while to lie. Detracting from you in a praise too low.
Nor do I think that Menelaus can,
None of our race does in the Stygian lake
Your father Jove is forc'd to grace his line.
Does all the pight lie melting in your arms, Yet sure some taste of love I first would take, Does every minute to new joys improve, Would first, in all your blooming excellence
And riots in the luscious sweets of love.
And that too, only to increase my pain :
I loath my food, when my tormented eye
Sees bis rude hand in your soft bosom lie.
When you with him in strict embraces close,
My bated meat to my dry'd palate grows.
That sigh with scornful smiles repaid by thee.
You straight recall'd my longing eyes again.
But it's a greater, not to look on thee.
But through the thin disguise they are descry'd.
What tales of love tell I, when warm’d with What need I the vast food of people tell,
For my excuse I drunkenness would feign.
Breasts white as spow, or the false down of Jove, Then, if my wishes may aspire so higti, When to your mother the kind swan made love : I with our flight shall win you to comply; Whilst, with the sight surpris'd, I gazing stand, But, if nice honour little scruples frame, The cup I held dropt from my careless hand. The force I'll use shall vindicate your fame. If you your young Hermione but kiss,
Of Theseus and your brothers I can learn, Straight from her lips I snatch the envy'd bliss. No precedents so nearly you concern: Sometimes supinely laid, love songs I sing, You Theseus, they Leucippus' daughter stole; And wasted kisses from my fingers fling.
I'll be the fourth in the illustrious roll. Your women to my aid I try to move
Wellmann'd, wellarm’d, for you my fleet does stay, With all the powerful rhetoric of love ;
And waiting winds murmur at our delay. But they, alas ! speak nothing but despair, Through Troy's throng'd streets you shall in And in the midst leave my neglected prayer.
triumph go, Oh! that by some great prize you might be won, Ador'd as some new goddess here below. And your possession might the victor crown, Where'er you tread, spices and gums shall smoke As Pelops his Hippodamia won :
And victims fall beneath the fatal stroke. Then had you seen what I for you had done: My father, mother, all the joyful court, But now I've nothing left to do but pray,
All Troy, to you with presents shall resort. And myself prostrate at your feet to lay.
Alas! 'tis nothing what I yet have said; O thou, thy house's glory, brighter far
What there you 'll find, shall what I write exceed. Than thy two shining brothers' friendly star! Nor fear, lest war pursue our hasty flight, O worthy of the bed of Heaven's great king, And angry Greece should all her force unite. If aught so fair but from himself could spring! What ravish'd maid did ever wars regain? Either with thee I back to Troy will fly,
Vain the attempt, and fear of it as vain. Or here a wretched banish'd lover die.
The Thracians Orithya stole from far, With no slight wound my tender breast does smart, Yet Thrace ne'er heard the noise of following war. My bones and marrow feel the piercing dart; Jason too stole away the Colchian maid, I find my sister true did prophesy,
Yet Colchos did not Thessaly invade. I with a heavenly dart should wounded die; He who stole you, stole Ariadne too, Despise not then a love by Heaven design'd, Yet Minos did not with all Crete pursue. So may the gods still to your vows be kind ! Fear in these cases than the danger's more,
Much I could say ; but what, will best be known And, when the threatening tempest once is o'er, In your apartment, when we are alone.
Our shame's then greater than our fear before. You blush, and, with a superstitious dread, But say from Greece a threaten'd war pursue, Fear to defile the sacred marriage bed :
Know I have strength and wounding weapons too. Ab! Helen, can you then so simple be,
In men and horse more numerous than Greece To think such beauty can from faults be free? Our empire is, nor in its compass less. Or change that face, or you must needs be kind; Nor does your husband Paris aught excel Beauty and Virtue seldom have been join'd. In generous courage, or in martial skill. Jove and bright Venus do our thefts approve, Ev'n but a boy, from my slain foes I gain'd Such thefts as these gave you your father Jove, My stol'n herd, and a new name attain'd; And if in you aught of your parents last,
Ev'n then, o'ercome by me, I could produce Can.Jove and Leda's daughter well be chaste?
Deïphobus and great Ilioneus. Yet then be chaste when we to Troy shall go Nor hand to hand more to be fear'd am 1, (For she who sins with one alone, is so):
Than when from far my certain arrows fly. But let us now enjoy that pleasing sin,
You for bis youth can no such actions feign, Then marry, and be innocent again.
Nor can be e'er my envy'd skill attain. Ev'n your own husband doth the same persuade, But could he, Hector's your security, Silent himself, yet all his actions plead:
And he alone an army is to me. For me they plead, and he, good man! because You know me not, nor the hid prowess find He'll spoil no sport, officiously withdraws. Of him that Heaven has for your bed design'd. Had he no other time to visit Crete?
Either no war from Greece shall follow thee, Oh! how prodigious is a husband's wit!
Or, if it does, shall be repell’d by me. He went; and, as he went, he cry'd, “ My dear Nor think I fear to fight for such a wife, Instead of me, you of your guest take care!” That prize would give the coward's courage life. But you forget your lord's command, I see,
All after-ages shall your fame admire, Nor take you any care of Love or me.
If you alone set the whole world on fire, And think you such a thing as he does know
To sea, to sea, while all the gods are kind,
And all I promise, you in Troy shall find,
ACONTIUS TO CYDIPPE
TRANSLATED FROM OVID.
for the resort of the most beautiful virgins of all And in their awful presence seal my love.
Greece) fell in love with Cydippe, a lady of
THE EPISTLE OP