e're you further go Give Audience to a Lover's Woe II. Condoling Air to thee I speak Since she is deaf to all my Grief She that caus'd my Heart to break You never wrong'd yet bring Relief I 'm sure you grieve to hear my Pain For when I sigh you sigh again III. Go gentle Air fly to my Dear That has with Love enflam'd my Breast And whisper softly in her Ear 'T is she has rob'd my Soul of Rest Express if possible such moans May imitate my dying Groans IV. Then with a rougher Breath make bold To toss the Treasures of her Hair 'Till thou dost ev'ry Curl unfold Which cunningly mens Hearts ensnare Try all thy Skill to break the Net Till I like thee my Freedom get On a NIGHTINGALE that was drown'd By the same UPon a Bough hung trembling o're a Spring Sate Philomel to ease her Grief and sing Tuning such various Notes there seem'd to nest A Quire of little Songsters in her Breast Pleas'd Eccho at the close of every Strain Return'd the Musick Note for Note again The jealous Bird who ne're had Rival known Not thinking the sweet Accents were her own So fill'd with Emulation grew that she Express'd her outmost Art and Harmony Till as she eagerly her Conquest try'd Her shadow in the Stream below she spy'd Then heard the Waters bubling but mistook And thought the Nymphs were laughing in the Brook With that Conceit she drop'd into the Well But utter'd these soft Accents as she fell Not Tereus self e're offer'd such a wrong Nymphs take my Life since you despise my Song Love's new Philosophy By the same I. VVHo'ere a Lover is of Art May come and learn of me A new Philosophy Such as no Schools did e're impart Love all my other Notions does controul And reads these now strange Lectures to my Soul II. This God who takes delight to lye The Truth of former days defames And Aristotle blames Concluding all by Subtilty Whilst with such Art his Syllogisms are made As Solomon himself could ne're evade III. So wond'rous is his Craft and Skill His painted Reasons serve as Darts To pierce Mens Intellects and Hearts All Maxims he destroys at Will Plato he blinded so he made him think 'T was Water when he gave him Fire to drink IV. That Water can extinguish Fire Past Ages did allow Love contradicts the notion now And says it makes his Flames rage higher Which truth my self have prov'd for many years Wherein I 've wept whole Deluges of Tears V. When Soul and Body separate 'T is said the Man forthwith must dye This Maxim too I must deny My Soul 's with her who rules my Fate Yet still my Organs move a Proof to give That Soul and Body can divided live VI. Remove the Cause Effects will cease This was an Axiom too Which to my Grief I find untrue Cynthia robs my Soul of Ease Yet when this fair Disturber of my Peace Is farthest from me then my Pains encrease VII In Love Extreams themselves are joyn'd Joy and Sorrow of my Breast Together stand possest And vex with Civil VVar my Mind Thus when I view the Source of all my Wrong I sigh my Musick mix with Tears my Song VIII VVhilst in this Torment I remain To be and not to be No longer is a Mystery I dye to Joy and live to Pain Thus without Paradox I may be said To be and not to be alive and dead IX Now go my Song yet shun the Eyes Of such as never felt Love's Flame And if my Cynthia blame Thy Arguments as Sophistries Tell her this is Love's new Philosophy VVhich none can understand but such as try CYNISCA OR The fourteenth Idyllium of Theocritus imitated By W. Bowles Fellow of Kings-Coll Cambr. Thyonicus and Aeschines OH how does my dear Eschines Oh how Some Care my Friend sits heavy on thy Brow Aeschines Cynisca Friend has shown the Fiend confest And Peace and Joy are banish'd from my Breast Thyonicus Hence this wild look and this distracted Air Staring your Eyes your Face o're-grown with Hair Just such a rosie Crucian here arriv'd Some new Enthusiast sure or Flood reviv'd With such a Meen he came with such a Grace So long his Beard so dry so pale his Face Aeschines You Sir are merry but alas I find No Cure no Ease to my distemper'd Mind I rave am by a thousand Furies tost And call in vain my Reason in my Passion lost Thyonicus I always knew you jealous and severe But does Cynisca's Falshood plain appear Aeschines 'T was my ill fate or chance some Friends to treat With richest Wines the Board was crown'd with choicest Meat But fair Cynisca most adorn'd the Feast In all the Charms of Art and Nature drest Cynisca all our ravish'd Senses fed We gaz'd and we ador'd the lovely Maid With Wine and Beauty all our Hearts were fir'd And fair Cynisca still new Joys inspir'd Now Healths we drank and as the Glasses came Such was the Law each did his Mistress name Charming Cynisca too at last was prest To name the Lover in her favour blest A VVoman sure she hop'd might be excus'd The more they urg'd her she the more refus'd Refus'd Oh Friend and I her Lover by Guess if my Rage with VVine enflam'd grew high Silent she sat and with her Eyes deny'd Lycus is Handsome Tall and Young they cry'd When Lycus Name but touch'd her guilty Soul How down her Cheeks the liquid Globes did roul Confus'd her Look while Shame and Guilt apace Shifted the whole Complexion of her Face Gods with what rage was my rack'd Soul surpriz'd My Curse my Ruine am I then despis'd Ingrateful and inhumane Thou begone Go hug the Man whose Absence you bemoan No more will I deluded by your Charms Cherish an absent Mistress in my Arms. Swiftly as Swallows to their Nest she fled When unfletch'd Young lye gaping and unfed Swiftly she fled with my Embraces cloy'd Lycus she long had lov'd and long enjoy'd A publick Jest and known to all alass The Cuckold last perceives his own disgrace Yet once a Friend accus'd the guilty Maid And to my Ears unheard the fatal News convey'd For I a much abus'd deluded Sot The matter ne're examin'd or forgot Now undisturb'd unrival'd Lycus reigns Enjoys his Conquest and derides my Pains Two Months are past since unregarded I In a deserted Bed and hopeless lye Long with the mighty Pain opprest I strove But ah what Remedy for injur'd-Love In vain I struggle with the fierce Disease The fatal Poison does my Vitals seize Yet Damon did from Travel find Relief And Absence soon remov'd the raging Grief In Fires like mine successless Damon burn'd Diseas'd he parted and he sound return'd I too th' incertain Remedy will try And to less cruel Seas and Rocks will fly Thyonicus For Flanders then since you 'r resolv'd prepare Flanders the Scene of Glory and of War Or if a better choice and nobler Fire Does greater Arms and greater thoughts
inspire Hungarian Rebels and Unchristian Foes 'T is a vast Field of Honour Friend oppose By God-like Poland born and Lorrain soon The Cross shall triumph o're the waning Moon There you the cruel ravage may admire And Austria desolate by Barb'rous fire May curse the dire Effects of civil Rage Oh in what Ills Religion can engage There sure with Horror your diverted Mind Some Truce may with this smaller Passion find Aeschines Cynisca oh unkind farewel I go By thee condemn'd to distant Countries know I go where Honour and where Dangers call From a less barb'rous Foe to tempt a nobler Fall Written May 23. 1684. Sapho's Ode out of Longinus By the same I. THE Gods are not more blest than he Who fixing his glad Eyes on thee With thy bright Rays his Senses chears And drinks with ever thirsty ears The charming Musick of thy Tongue Does ever hear and ever long That sees with more than humane Grace Sweet smiles adorn thy Angel Face II. But when with kinder beams you shine And so appear much more divine My feeble sense and dazl'd sight No more support the glorious light And the fierce Torrent of Delight Oh! then I feel my Life decay My ravish'd Soul then flies away Then Faintness does my Limbs surprize And Darkness swims before my Eyes III. Then my Tongue fails and from my Brow The liquid drops in silence flow Then wand'ring Fires run through my Blood And Cold binds up the stupid Flood All pale and breathless then I lye I sigh I tremble and I dye Ode 13. of the Fourth Book of Horace I. LYce the Gods have heard my Pray'r Lyce the proud the charming and the fair Lyce is old tho wanton still and gay You laugh and sing and play Now Beauty fails with Wine would raise desire And with your trembling Voice would fan our dying fire II. In vain for Love long since forsook Thy snowy Hair thy falling Teeth and withering Look He Chia's blooming Face Adorns with ev'ry Grace Her Wit her Eyes her every Glance are darts That with resistless force invade our Hearts III. Not all your Art nor all your dress Tho grown to a ridiculous excess Tho you by Lovers spoils made fine In richest Silks and Jewels shine And with their borrow'd light Surprize the dazl'd sight Can your fled Youth recall recall one day Which flying Time on his swift wings has born away IV. Ah! where are all thy Beauties fled Where all the charms that so adorn'd the tender Maid Ah! where the nameless Graces that were seen In all thy motions and thy meen What now oh what is of that Lyce left By which I once was of my Sense and of my Soul bereft V. Of her who with my Cynara strove And shar'd my doubtful Love Yet Fate and the last unrelenting hour Seiz'd her gay Youth and pluck'd the springing flow'r But angry Heaven has reserv'd thee That you with rage might see With rage might see your Beauties fading Glory fly And your short youth and tyrannous Pow'r before you dye VI. That your insulting Lovers might return Pride for your Pride and with retorted scorn Glut their Revenge and satiate all their Pain With cruel pleasure and with sharp disdain Might laugh to see that fire which once so burn'd Shot such resistless Flames to Ashes turn'd The Immortality of Poesie By Mr. Evelyn TO ENVY Ovid. Amor. Lib. 1. Eleg. 15. ENvy how dar'st thou say that I in vain Have spent my years or with false Names profane The sacred Product of my fertile Brain 'T is true in th' Art of War I am not skill'd No Trophies did I e're attempt to build By gaining grinning Honour in the Field I never try'd to learn the tedious Laws Or sought in pleading of a desp'rate Cause To sell my Breath for Int'rest or Applause Such little things I scorn I nobly aim At that which may secure a lasting Fame And through the World immortalize my Name Old Chaucer shall for his fâ—…tious Style Be read and prais'd by warlike Britains while The Sea enriches and defends their Isle While the whole Earth resounds Elisa's Fame Who aw'd the French and did the Spaniard tame The English will remember Spencer's Name While Flatt'rers thrive and Parasites shall dine While Commonwealths afford a Catiline Laborious Iohnson shall be thought divine Thee Shakespear Poets ever shall adore Whose wealthy Fancy left so vast a store They still refine thy rough but precious Ore So long shall Cowley be admir'd above The Croud as David's troubles pity move Till Women cease to charm and Youth to love VVhile we the Fall of our first Parents grieve And worship him who did that Fall retreive Milton shall in majestick Numbers live Dryden will last as long as Wit and Sense While Judgment is requir'd to Excellence While perfect Language charms an Audience As long as Men are false and Women vain While Gold continues to be Vertues bane In pointed Satyr Wicherly shall reign When the aspiring Grecian in the East And haughty Philip is forgot i' th' West Then Lee and Otways Works shall be supprest While Fathers are severe and Servants cheat Till Bawds and Whores can live without deceit Sydley and easie Etheridge shall be great Stones will consume Age will on Metals prey But deathless Verse no time can wear away That stands the shock of years without decay When Kingdoms shall be lost in Sloth Lust When Treasures fail and glorious Arms shall rust Vâ—…rse only lifts it self above the dust Come bright Apollo then let me drink deep Of that blest Spring thou dost for Poets keep VVhile in ignoble ease the VVorld's asleep Let wreaths of tender Myrtle crown my head Let me be still by anxious Lovers read Envy'd alive but honour'd when I 'm dead Till after Death Desert was never crown'd VVhen my Ashes are forgotten under ground Then my best part will be immortal found Out of Martial Lib. 8. Epigr. 56. Temporibus nostris Aetas By the same ALl other Ages since our Age excels And conqu'ring Rome to so much greatness swells You wonder what 's become of Maro's Vein That none write Battels in so high a strain Had VVit its Patrons Flacus now a days As once it had more would contend for Praise Thy Villa would a mighty Genius raise VVhen Virgil was oppress'd by civil hate Robb'd of his Flocks and strip'd of his Estate In Tyt'rus dress beneath a Beech he sate VVeeping in shades thus was the Poet found Till brave Mâ—…cenas rais'd him from the Ground Knowing that want would greatest Minds betray He fear'd a Muse so God-like should decay And drave malicious Poverty away Freed from the want that now oppresses thee Thou shalt for ever Prince of Poets be In all my Pleasures thou a part shalt bear Thou shalt with me my dear Alexis share The charming Youth stood by his Master's board And with his Iv'ry hands black Falern pour'd VVith rosie Lips each Cup he first assay'd Of such a Draught Iove
would commend Methinks the feeble Praise I upwards send Like panting Mists beneath a Hill doth rise 'T is wing'd with Zeal yet whilst aspiring dies It strives to reach your worth but your great height Doth baffle all its best endeavours strait Yet my fond Muse resolves her Strength to try Altho she 's sure in the Attempt to dye And now she hath thus rashly ventur'd in She knows not how or where she should begin Is doubtful which should have the foremost place The native smoothness of your Speech or â—…ace The silent lines that on your Cheeks do grow Or those which in soft pleasing Accents flow These must to one another yield for we In both discern the self same Harmony Your well-fram'd Body seems to her so fine She thinks your glorious Soul doth thro' it shine Doubts which o' th' two she highest ought to set The precious Jewel or the Cabinet When she your unstain'd whiteness views from thence She firmly gathers inward Innocence She doth through Smiles your Patience clearly spy And reads your Wisdom in your searching eye Knows how all Vertues by your Looks are dress'd Or in resembling Characters express'd But stay a while yet hold unhappy Muse And see whom thou thus humbly do'st abuse I 'm sure thou dost unpard'nably offend And needs must come to an untimely end Unless her Mercy do all those transcend To the same immoderately mourning the Death of a Relation IN vain you keep your Sorrow fresh with Tears In vain renew your Trouble and our Fears For Heaven's sake leave your Love no more commend By making Grief so long out-live your Friend Whilst thus with hideous groans and doleful cries You wound the yielding Air with Tears your eyes You must what she to Nature ow'd forget Or else repine she dy'd no more in Debt When she in Baptism her first Vow did make She promis'd by her Sureties to forsake The World and all its Pomp and can you now Grieve she is dead who only keeps her Vow When searching Fate shall its Advantage find And most compendiously destroy Mankind In you alone Mirth then will Scandal grow And all men mourn or feign that they do so Should each of those shed but one single Tear To whom you 're known that is to whom you 're dear The World would in an instant cover'd be With Waters once more perish in a Sea Think then what fears already fill the Breast Of some what haste you make to kill the rest Secret Grief I. FArewel fond Pleasures I disdain Your Nets of Roses loose my Chain And set my fetter'd Powers free For you and I shall ne're agree Tempt me no more 't is all in vain II. The easie World with Charms assail Of Triumphs there you cannot fail On those to whom the Cheat's unknown You will infallibly prevail But let my Solitude and me alone III. Let the sad Cypress crown my Head The deadly Poppy on my Temples shed Through all my Veins its Juyce bespread Could I retrieve my former years I 'd live them o're again in Tears IV. In secret I 'll enjoy my Grief Not tell the Cause nor ask relief Though ne're so high the Streams should grow Yet 't is not fit the World should know The Spring from whence my Sorrows flow Mart. L. 1. Ep 58. WOuld Flaccus know if I would change my Life What kind of Girl I 'd chuse to make my Wife I wou'd not have her be so fond to say Yes at first dash nor dwell too long on Nay These two Extreams I hate then let her be 'Twixt both not too hard-hearted nor too free The GRACES or Hieron Theocriti Idyll 16. Translated by Sir Edward Sherborn above forty years ago THE Muses and the Muse inspired Crew This always as their best-lov'd Theam pursue The Honour of immortal Gods to raise And crown the Actions of Good Men with Praise For Deities the Muses are and use As such to give to Deities their Dues We Poets are but Mortals sing we then The Deeds of god-like tho but mortal men None kindly yet our Graces entertain But send them unrewarded back again This made the Girls when bare-foot they came home Chide me for idly sending them to roam On sleeveless Errands wearied here to stay They sigh their melancholy Souls away They loath their sordid Lodging fume and fret 'Cause for their Labours they can nothing get For where 's the generous Mortal now a-days That loves to hear a Poet 's well-tun'd Lays To find one such I know not some 't is true Love te be prais'd none a good Deed will do They value not their Honours as of old But are meer Slaves to Avarice and Gold Just or unjust all Practices they try For heaps of Treasure but will rather dye Than part with the bare Scrapings of its Rust To satisfie a needy Poet's Gust If any chance a Boon of them to beg They cry My Knee is nearer than my Leg. Of what is mine my self alone shall share 〈◊〉 their own Poets let the Gods take care Who to another's Pray'r now lends an Ear Not one This Truth Homer to all makes clear The best of Poets tho the best he be He gets not yet one single Cross from me Mad men what 's Wealth if still the hoarded Gold From others under Lock and Key you hold None wise thinks this is the true use of it Some part for proper Interest we should fit And some apply to the Support of Wit Some to our near Allies we should allow To Strangers some some to the Gods should vow Set some for Hospitality a-part To treat our Friends with open hand and heart But chiefly to maintain the Muses Quire That when to the old Grave thou shalt retire Thou may'st among the living gain Renown Nor mourn inglorious near sad Acheron As some poor Ditcher with hard brawny hand That cannot heavy Poverty withstand The great Antiochus in plenteous measure Supply'd his Subjects Wants from his own Treasure So King Alevas many sat Droves went Into his Stalls and from his Stalls were sent Insinite Flocks large Pastures did afford To furnish Crion's hospitable Board No Pleasure yet from all this Princely store Could they receive were their Souls wasted o're In Charon's Boat to the dark Stygian Shore But in obscure Oblivion they would lye Depriv'd of all their Superfluity 'Mongst wretched Souls whom no Time can nor Age From their sad Miseries e're disengage If the great Ceian Poet had not been And with his Praises made them live again Evâ—… the swift Coursers at th' Olympick Game Are registred in the Records of Fame Who of the Lycian Princes e're had heard Of Cyrnus with his flaxen Hair and Beard Or Prim's Sons forgot they had been long Their Wars and Battels had not Poets sung Ulisses who full six score Months was tost And Time and Wealth 'mongst several Nations lost Who went to Hell alive and by a slight From the fierce Cyclops Cave made his safe flight
of such a cause could not be less Nature erected her delightful Arms So wondrously adorn'd with heav'nli'st charms That like Herculian Pillars they might shew Th' admiring World she can no farther go But with Pigmalion stand her self amaz'd 〈◊〉 At the stupendious Form her joyful hand has rais'd 7. What service would I pay what wondrous Love Should I not so ungrateful prove To that Terrestrial Angel who below Does such a Glorious Image shew Of Saints eternal Faith and Innocence above Or could there an Exchange in Passions be What recompence would I return to thee With fervent Zeal from an unbounded heart Sould noble Friendship act a Lovers part Nay now methinks I have so great a sense Of all thy Love and Excellence That even that dear she Who 's more than all the World to me Alas hardly two grains more than thee For tho I love you less That Passion does as much express For if in Love as in Religion The Gods accept the Will alone No Martyr ever dy'd With greater zeal than I have liv'd Thee kind Corinna I adore As much as e'er I can and I Love her no more TO LUCINDA GO on Fair Maid persist in your disdain At the first stroke my heart was slain And all your Pride and Scorn can do no more Than what your frowns have done before Tho like first Atoms which compounded thee This wretched Body mangled be When Life 's departed with all sense of pain You the dead Carcass wound in vain When threatning Comets burn no small disease On the Contagious World does seize Devouring Plagues with livid ruin wast The spotted Race of Man and Beast Nor do thy eyes portend a milder doom Where'er their fatal beams o'ercome When from those raging Stars one frown you dart It 's able to destroy the stoutest heart The Captive WHat shall I do to give my soul some rest This cruel barbarous Tyrant Love Now it has got possession of my breast Will never from its Throne remove I must alas the sad disease indure Whose raging pain no sov'reign Balm can cure At first it lodg'd in my unwary eyes And like a slave obey'd my Will But streight did the proud Basilisk surprize That seat of Life it soon will kill O'er my whole Form th' Imperial Viper reigns And spreads its poison through my burning veins When it invaded first my lab'ring heart To stop the fatal Course I strove And gave away the dear infected part To her whom more than that I love Now sure thought I for ever from my Breast Is banish'd that unkind disquiet Guest But all my pleasing hopes alas were crost As disarm'd Patients feel the pain Of the same Limb they many years have lost My Torment still returns again And now I find it is increas'd so high 'T will ne'er leave me till I leave that and die The Command NO no bold heart forbear rather than speak Thou shalt with pain and silence break My Passion 's rais'd so dangerously high Thou must for ever speechless lie On Penalty of a worse death Use not the least complaining breath But silent as the Grave with all thy Sorrows dye Alas shouldst thou begin what tongue could tell The raging pangs of Love I feel More Torment ev'ry dismal hour does bear Than thou couldst in an Age declare Great sorrows overwhelm the tongue And wouldst thou do me so much wrong To let her know by halves what I endure for her ON LUCINDAS Singing at CHURCH TEll me no more of soft harmonious spheres Or Syrens voices that enchant our ears From her sweet tongue such tuneful ' Musick springs Angels might cease while the bright Charmer sings Hark how the Temples sacred Roof rebounds With warbling Ecchoes and seraphic sounds Methinks the well-pleas'd Gods themselves attend To hear a Heav'nly voice from Earth ascend Delighted Saints move from their Mansions there To be partakers of our Pleasures here Pleasures so charming that they plainly prove What entertainment we shall find above Such Beauteous Forms Elysian Fields adorn And such sweet notes awake the Morn Cease dull Devotion cease we need no more The sacred Deities for Heav'n implore While thus her voice wounds the Melodious Air Our Souls must think themselves already there No humane tongue could ever entertain The Divine Powers in so divine a strain Nor does she glorifie the Gods alone For while she sings Heav'ns Praises she sings her own The Convert VVHen first I saw Lucinda's face And view'd the dasling glories there She seem'd of a Diviner Race Than that which Nature planted here With Sacred Homage down I fell Wondring whence such a Form could spring Tell me I cry'd fair Vision tell The dread Commands from Heav'n you bring For if past sins may be forgiven By this bright Evidence I know The careful Gods have made a Heav'n That made such Angels for it'too Vicissitude VVHo that ere Fortune's Trait'rous smiles has try'd Can hope for any constant Bliss In such a faithless World as this Or in the surest promises of treach'rous Fate conside The tott'ring Globe turns with the rolling Spheres And the same Motion may be seen Concentric too from us within Exalted now with Hopes and then depress'd with Fears Eternal Change revolves with ev'ry day The most Triumphant Glorious Crown Is in a moment tumbl'd down And shrines of burnish'd Gold to mouldring Earth decay Ev'n I my self who would not change the Fate Auspicious Stars ordain'd my Birth With any Mortal Man on Earth Midst all my joys can't boast of a much happier state When my Lucinda smiles no Prince can be So blest on his Imperial Throne But if she chance to dart a Frown The wretched'st Slave alive's an Emperour to me The CURE worse than the DISEASE AS they whom raging Feavers burn Drink cooling things for ease Which make a fiercer heat return And heighten their disease In hopes to cure my tort'ring pain A worse Experiment I found Running upon the Sword again That gave me first my wound The Denial HOld hold my dear Destroyer hold I do confess I was too bold My violent Passion rais'd so high That in the mighty Transport I Feeling my troubled Breast so full Let my tongue speak the language of my Soul Stop dearest stop that fatal breath Presaging Omens bode my Death Tho I would give my Life to hear That charming voice which now I fear As Criminals expect their doom I wish to know but dread the Fate to come THE Royal Canticle OR THE SONG OF SOLOMON CANTO I. Sponsa JOyn thy life-breathing Lips to mine Thy Love excells the Joys of Wine Thy Odours oh how redolent Attract me with their pleasing Scent These sweetly flowing from thy Name Our Virgins with desire enflame Oh! draw me my Belov'd and we With winged feet will follow thee Thy Loving Spouse at length great King Into thy Royal Chamber bring Then shall our Souls intranc'd with joy In thy due Praise their Zeal employ Thy celebrated Love recite Which more than