POEMS OF FANCY. I. THE IMAGINATION. FANTASY. FROM "THE VISION OF DELIGHT." BREAK, Fantasy, from thy cave of cloud, And various shapes of things; Create of airy forms a stream, It must have blood, and naught of phlegm ; And though it be a waking dream, Yet let it like an odor rise To all the senses here, And fall like sleep upon their eyes, Or music in their ear. HALLO, MY FANCY. IN melancholic fancy, Out of myself, In the vulcan dancy, BEN JONSON. All the world surveying, Nowhere staying, Just like a fairy elf; Out o'er the tops of highest mountains skipping, Out o'er the hills, the trees and valleys tripping, Out o'er the ocean seas, without an oar or shipping. Hallo, my fancy, whither wilt thou go? Amidst the misty vapors, Fain would I know What doth cause the tapers; Why the clouds benight us, While we travel here below. Fain would I know what makes the roaring thunder, And what these lightnings be that rend the clouds asunder, And what these comets are on which we gaze and wonder. Hallo, my fancy, whither wilt thou go? Fain would I know the reason Why the little ant, All the summer season, Layeth up provision, On condition To know no winter's want: And how these little fishes, that swim beneath salt water, Do never blind their eyes; methinks it is a matter An inch above the reach of old Erra Pater! Hallo, my fancy, whither wilt thou go? Fain would I be resolved How things are done; And where the bull was calved Of bloody Phalaris, And where the tailor is That works to the man i' the moon! Fain would I know how Cupid aims so rightly; And how these little fairies do dance and leap so lightly; And where fair Cynthia makes her ambles nightly. Hallo, my fancy, whither wilt thou go? In conceit like Phaeton, I'll mount Phoebus' chair, Having ne'er a hat on, Hurrying through the air. Fain would I hear his fiery horses neighing, O, from what ground of nature That self-devouring creature, Prove so froward And untoward, Her vitals for to strain? And why the subtle fox, while in death's wounds is lying, Doth not lament his pangs by howling and by crying; And why the milk-white swan doth sing when she's a-dying. Hallo, my fancy, whither wilt thou go? Fain would I conclude this, At least make essay, What similitude is; Why fowls of a feather Flock and fly together, And lambs know beasts of prey : How Nature's alchymists, these small laborious creatures, Acknowledge still a prince in ordering their matters, And suffer none to live, who slothing lose their features. Hallo, my fancy, whither wilt thou go? I'm rapt with admiration, When I do ruminate, Men of an occupation, How each one calls him brother, Yet each envieth other, And yet still intimate! Yea, I admire to see some natures farther sun d'red, Than antipodes to us. Is it not to be wond'red? dred? Hallo, my fancy, whither wilt thou go? What multitude of notions Doth perturb my pate, Considering the motions, How the heavens are preserved, In moisture, light, and heat! If one spirit sits the outmost circle turning, If rapid circles' motion be that which they call burning! Hallo, my fancy, whither wilt thou go! Fain also would I prove this, By considering What that, which you call love, is : Whether it be a folly Or a melancholy, Or some heroic thing! Fain I'd have it proved, by one whom love hath wounded, And fully upon one his desire hath founded, Whom nothing else could please though the world were rounded. Hallo, my fancy, whither wilt thou go? To know this world's centre, Height, depth, breadth, and length, Fain would I adventure To search the hid attractions Of magnetic actions, And adamantine strength. Fain would I know, if in some lofty mountain, Where the moon sojourns, if there be trees or fountain; If there be beasts of prey, or yet be fields to hunt in. Hallo, my fancy, whither wilt thou go? |