Selected quad for the lemma: day_n
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A41430
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Poems and translations, written upon several occasions, and to several persons by a late scholar of Eaton.
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Goodall, Charles, 1671-1689.
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1689
(1689)
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Wing G1092; ESTC R8475
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55,376
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182
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wrought their passage through my brains No wonder if so hardly I the Dirge endite Which ev'n my Pen clog'd with grief cannot write No wonder if my Verses lag behind Since my Muse with Tears is blind I to this Prison here confin'd For sure no better is that place to me Whilst thou are absent wheresoe're it be 2. Seven days are past since I beheld thy face In which Divinity it self is writ And Angel all in every line of it Picture of Beauty and the Stamp of Grace Seven to what immense number does that word amount Seven days 7000 years in Love's account Every Minute is a Day Every Hour a tedious Year In which the Sun does once appear And in a moment vanishes away And leaves the miserable cloudy Hemisphere Seven days before I could my silence break Thy Name in Accents interrupted speak For seven long days upon the Rack And overwhelmed with the dreadful storm Grief haunted me like th' evil Spirit of Saul Then in my wavering mind I thought What if I should my self to David's Harp apply And might not numbers be a Remedy I tried and found it nonsence all I tried again and at the second draught Like old Deucalion's Stones all came to better form 3. To say my Life is bound in thine In deed were a Tautologie For that as necessarily must be As that thou hast a Soul divine But to express the Grief and Consternation When Soul and Body part For such it is does seize my heart That that only is above my passion Each day my Sun since you withdrew your light Has been an everlasting Night And yet still banish'd Thyrsis from thy sight 4. I feel the Pangs and Tortures of a dying Soul Nay I my self am dead thô but in part Whilst you are my Vicegerent in my heart And must command the whole 'T is this alone that does support My sinking Spirits from the Grave That thô the Scorpion stings her bloud can save Greatness and Fortune do your absence court Thô Fate does her malicious Nature show To make such bitter streams from a sweet Fountain flow 5. Methinks I Pylades and Orestes see And must admire their constancie But when again I do recount To what vast sum my Debts amount How infinitely I am oblig'd to thee Their Friendship in the Balance laid And equally and fairly weigh'd Against my spotless Love Lighter than Vanity does prove Tilts up like Vapours that the Air invade Whilst mine is solid and does downward to its centre move No more to be compar'd than Atoms to the Sun Or little drops unto the boundless Ocean 6. Pylades proffer'd his own Life 't is true And bare that punishment was justly due To such a Friend but hadst thou died Instead of him thou hadst been stil'd the Matricide His horrid Crime transferr'd to you That Murther soon have put an end To that proverbial name of Friend But as thy matchless Innocence Could only be a capital Offence Thy Vertues I would ransom by my death And bless the Author with my dying breath 7. This I with less reluctancy could bear Than such damnation to despair Than absence from that glorious Sun Who lends all Creatures light and yet himself wants none 'T is from his Rays I steal Promethean fire Kindle my fatal Spices and expire Whose Worth and Vertues when I think upon Tost by two different motions of my mind But both to the same end inclin'd I cannot be with-held I must be gone My Soul is on the wing But being stopt by cross Necessity She makes a Post of every Wind Sends word she fears you grow unkind Commits to every blast a sigh Then melts away into a piece of Poetry So when the Nightingale has gor'd her breast She tunes her Pipes and quavers out her best And thô in the extremity of pain Has not forgot her usual strain But sets her self to sing The SPRING To Mr. Ben. Wrightson Ver adeò frondi nemorum ver utile sylvis Vere tument terrae genitalia semina poscunt Vir. geor 2. HAil fragrant Spring the charming pride of May Let Heaven smile upon this solemn day The Sun new drest shine with a brighter ray The Feverish Summer Aguish Winter flie Consumptive Autumn with her Palsie die Or banish'd hence at the dread Queen's command Go take possession in another Land. For Flora comes with Royal Garlands crown'd The Flowers kiss her feet upon the ground The Muses Graces and good Genius dance And with just Measures and sweet Tunes advance Birds winged Sirens Choristers of the Sky In Consort sing and in Procession fly Each keeps his proper Time and Note and Place Whilst falling murmuring Rivers sing the Base The Eastern winds Arabian Odours breath The Western upwards blow those Sweets they suck'd beneath The Fields array'd in their new Robes of State Upon their bounteous Benefactor wait Birds fan their wings spread their speckled plumes And Violets make a Present of Perfumes The Air on Primroses and Lillies feeds Melts Spices and prolifick moisture breeds The Woodbinds and the Honysuckles strive Which with Ambrosia first can stock a Hive Nature does entertain the Queen with Feasts And Plays and Masks acted by wanton Beasts The Elephant plays Gambols with his Trunk The Grashopper with dew of Nectar drunk To his own Musick leads a Country-Dance Mettlesom Horses through their Pasture prance The active Roes and Kids at Leap-Frog play The whole Creation keeps a Holy day Now tempting Venus naked in her Hair With her Gallants walks out to take the Air. Love in his Mother's Locks hides all his Darts And takes his rounds to single out his Hearts And here and there still as he passes by At random lets an amorous Arrow fly Day and night Vulcan his vast Bellows blows Day and night the Cyclopian Anvil glows With harden'd Metal work'd on th' Forge of Fate For Shafts some gilt with Love some tipp'd with Hate His Stock for all the following year new ground Poison'd to carry Death in every Wound Proud Peacocks with their Tails expanded strut And jealous Rams for recreation butt The Warlike Steed waves up and down his Main The Warlike Steed the Champion of the Plain The Bull fights bloudy Duels for his Mate And to keep up the Grandeur of his State. No Fleecy Tempests gather in the Sky Nor raging Dog-stars torrid heat now fry But Sol with his new Chariot shines more bright His Horses breath less flame and clearer light The Silver Streams double refined flow And Fishes frisk to see the pompous Show Home the kind Oak the Vine his Wife receives And hides her nakedness with his own Leaves Turtles together billing sit and coo And with alternate glances silent woo Nightingales charm the listning Woods to wrest Their tender Sprigs to make a downy Nest Flora's conducted to her Vernal Throne And now a Trumpet for Retreat is blown Once more her Court the painted Gardens smile And sweat out moisture from
FOrtune thou slippery Stage of Kings Upon whose Smiles or Frowns Depends the Settlement or Fall of Crowns What various Chances treacherous Fortune brings Mounting on deceitful Wings To Monarchs Scepters gives and sets them up on high Upon the tottering Spires of Dignity Then leaves them all alone Hung in the Air upon a Windy Throne Volatil Fortune must be gone So let them fall or rise Away the base perfidious Juggler flies How canst thou put a Cheat on us so bare Give us but Tinsel Goods for Solid Ware Wouldst have them rich and gay appear Thô truly little worth and truly very dear II. 'T is not a Conqueror's Sword or Crown A Prince's Smile or Tyrant's Frown Can make Cares at distance keep Or buy one short-liv'd moment's sleep Greatness is nothing but a pleasant Fable Nor can it make a Soul invulnerable The Court is no security from pains Princes have wore their Chains One Misery on another's neck does ride 'T is a troubled Sea when Fortune is our Guide And 't is a rare unusual sight In Fate 's black Webs to see one thread of white The raging Waves tear up the Sand And foaming beat against the Land Yet not so fast the Tyde can flow Yet not so fast the Wind can blow As giddy Fortune rashly throw Out of her careless hand the doubtful Die When in the twinkling of an Eye Kings Beggars Beggars Kings turn'd at her Lottery Kings would be fear'd but even Kings we see Fear lest they that fear them should use Treachery III. 'T is not the Night can give the Balm of Rest To those whose Spirits are opprest With Care that Night-Mare on their breast Sleep is no Antidote t' expel Fear that Firebrand of Hell. What City will not impious Arms destroy Slight was the Cause great was the Fall of Troy. Bloud-thirsty War swallows whole Kingdoms down Nor makes two mouthfuls of a Crown See the vast Pyramids that once ev'n reach'd the Skie Like Mole-hills in the dust or Atoms lie Chastity is at Court a hateful name And silenc'd Justice put to shame They laugh at Wedlock's Sacred Tye Stifle gasping Innocence Perjure their Reason and debauch their Sence And impudently give ev'n Truth it self the Lye. IV. But War in Hostile manner stands With Spear advanc'd and bloudy hands And there Jove's Executioners all wait To overturn those Pinacles of State. Furies in the Triumphant Chariot ride With Whips to check the Consul's pride Death in a thousand dreadful shapes appears And gnaws on Conscience prepossest with fears Crowns from weight and care from Kings Are both inseparable things V. Yet suppose Fate offers no Violence Publick Peace private Innocence Still things that are so high and great Cannot support their feeble height But tottering down sink under their own weight If Sails be fill'd thô by a prosperous wind Those Gales may prove unkind A Whirlwind overturns the Tower that shrouds Its lofty top amongst the Clouds The little Shrubs in humble shades that spread See the vast Oak whose proud aspiring head Defied the Thunderer in the Forrest lie Sapless wither'd crackt and drie Flashes of Lightning only Mountains strike In this alone are Fortune's Scales alike Whatever's above weight must over fall Without exception All. Great Bodies too luxurious grown With something more than properly their own Predominant Diseases feed Corruption in the Bloud and Humours breed The fattest Cattel are for slaughter chose To dangers Greatness must expose Whatever tottering Fortune does exalt Has only Crutches lent to learn to halt VI. Low moderate things must needs bear longest date That man is truly and is only Great That lives contented with a mean Estate Thrice happy is that man whose Means do lie Above or else below curst Fortune's Eye Nor like a Coward to the shore does creep Nor rashly thrusts himself into the deep Parting with His Dear Brother Mr. Ash Wyndham I. MAke room ye Pygmie Sons of Fame That with Antiquity would swell your name Proud before others to have trod The Paths of Virtue and the Ways of God. Thô last I 'll mend my pace Not they that set out first must win the Race 'T is done and now methinks The stately Monument of Nisus sinks And all those Hero's dust to nothing shrinks 'T is done I mount upon the Wings of Love And through the Sky by the Twin-Stars I move From whence those little Atoms I review That once with Titles fill'd the World Thousands into a crowded Pitcher hurl'd Wet with the Tears of Moisture and of Dew 2. 'T is done and all the Field's my own But still what shall I do to be for ever known How shall I keep up this my flight And prove 't is not Presumption but my Right 'T is done and the unquestionable Heir Dear Corydon will to my Title swear Ev'n He whose name had spread from Pole to Pole Great and diffusive as his Soul Had Fame with all her hundred Tongues but breath To sound him loud enough till after death Whose Name was made to comprehend All the Virtues of a Friend Too great for words whose Soul needs no translation Nature's one only work of Supererogation 3. Oh! I could almost with that Fate would try How unconcern'd for thee I durst to die How at the fatal Altar I could smile Griev'd only at thy absence for a while Proud as a Harbinger to go before To chuse some melancholy Grove Where I together with my thoughts might rove And thy auspicious Name implore Yet if not sentenc'd to depart How gladly could I watch the Guardian of my heart Nor yet by day nor yet by night Let thee steal one short moment from my sight How with thy absence can I be content When every minute without thee is mis-spent But ah the Fruit's forbidden for a time And who the Tree dares climb Now were not Jealousie a sin I could once more once and eternally begin Thy Faith thy Promise to secure Not in a thousand Oaths secure 4. Pardon Dear Corydon too zealous Love That fain would all things prove Afraid on slender grounds to trust Or can a Friend be over just For thô my faultring fears betray Suspicious doubts yet I must still believe 'T's impossible for Corydon to deceive Whose heart 's Truth 's Hieroglyphick well exprest Presiding in the Temple of your Breast Where on that Altar I must humbly lay This Offering with my consecrated Vow My Sibyl's Golden Bough I swear by your own self and truth by you That to the self-same Oath I will be true Nor need I tell you for you needs must know I love you above all things here below By Heaven once more and the Almighty Powers Intirely and eternally I 'm Yours C. O. To Mr. G. L. an ODE 1. DEar George the better part Of my united now divided heart Accept of these rude Lines this Paper bears Conceiv'd in Sorrow and brought forth in Tears Sad as th' Occasion hasty as thy Flight Nor wonder if with so much pains They