« הקודםהמשך »
Go, let the fatted calf be kill'd;
My prodigal's come home at last, With noble resolutions fill'd,
And fillid with sorrow for the past:
No more will burn with love or wine ; But quite has left his women and his swine. Welcome, ah! welcome, my poor heart!
Welcome! I little thought, I'll swear ('Tis now so long since we did part),
Ever again to see thee here:
Dear wanderer! since from me you fled, How often have I heard that thou wert dead ! Hast thou not found each woman's breast
(The lands where thou hast travelled) Either by savages possess'd,
Or wild and uninhabited ?
What joy couldst take, or what repose,
Rages with immoderate heat;
In others makes the cold too great:
And, where these are temperate known, The soil's all barren sand or rocky stone. When once or twice you chanced to view
A rich, well-govern'd heart, Like China, it admitted you
But to the frontier-part.
From Paradise shut for evermore, What good is't that an angel kept the door?
Well fare the pride, and the disdain,
And vanities, with beauty join'd;
fair-one had been kind : My dove, but once let loose, I doubt Would ne'er return, had not the flood been out.
THE HEART FLED AGAIN. False, foolish heart! didst thou not say
That thou wouldst never leave me more ? Behold! again 'tis fled away,
Fled as far from me as before.
I strove to bring it back again ;
When neither grief nor love prevail,
The' ingrateful Trojan, hoist his sail :
Aloud she call’d to him to stay ; The wind bore him and her lost words away. The doleful Ariadne so
On the wide shore forsaken stood : “ False Theseus, whither dost thou go ?”
Afar false Theseus cut the flood.
But Bacchus came to her relief:
But travel thus eternally!
And to be scorch'd in every eye! Wandering about like wretched Cain, Thrust-out, ill-used, by all, but by none slain !
Well, since thou wilt not here remain,
I'll e'en to live without thee try; My head shall take the greater pain,
And all thy duties shall supply:
I can more easily live, I know,
Nor their loose parts to method bring :
But they're strange Hebrew things to me.
Yet they continue obstinate:
Like Jews, they keep their old law still. Before their mothers' Gods they fondly fall, Vain idol-gods, that have no sense nor mind: Honour's their Ashtaroth, and pride their Baal,
The thundering Baal of woman-kind :
Which they, as we do them, adore.
At their own charge to furnish it-
SOME dull philosopher-when he hears me say
My soul is from me fled away,
But in another's breast does lie,
That neither is, nor will be, I,
“ Absurd !” and ask me how I live ; And syllogisms against it give. A curse on all your vain philosophies,
Which on weak Nature's law depend,
And know not how to comprehend
Her body is my soul; laugh not at this,
For by my life I swear it is.
From that proceeds all that I do,
Nay, all my thoughts and speeches too;
TIRED with the rough denials of my prayer,
From that hard she whom I obey,
That gives consent to all I say.
Ah, gentle nymph! who likest so well
Her heart being such, into it go,
Complaisant nymph! who dost thus kindly share
In griefs whose cause thou dost not know; Hadst thou but eyes, as well as tongue and ear,
How much compassion wouldst thou show!
Thy flame, whilst living, or a flower,
Alas! I might as easily
By repercussion beams engender fire;
Shapes by reflection shapes beget; The voice itself, when stopp d, does back retire,
And a new voice is made by it.
Thus things by opposition
Does from her stony breast rebound,
THE RICH RIVAL. They say you're angry, and rant mightily,
Because I love the same as you :
Alas! you're very rich, 'tis true; But, pr’ythee, fool! what's that to Love and me?
You’ave land and money, let that serve; And know you ’ave more by that than you
deserve. When next I see my fair-one, she shall know
How worthless thou art of her bed ;
And, wretch! I'll strike thee dumb and dead, With poble verse not understood by you;
Whilst thy sole rhetoric shall be “Jointure” and “jewels,” and “our friends agree.”