« הקודםהמשך »
Thus with unwearied wings I flee
Through all love's gardens and his fields; And, like the wise, industrious bee,
No weed but honey to me yields ! Honey still spent this diligence still supplies, Though I return not home with laden thighs.
My soul at first indeed did prove
Of pretty strength against a dart, Till I this habit got of love;
But my consumed and wasted heart, Once burnt to tinder with a strong desire, Since that, by every spark is set on fire.
GREAT and wise conqueror, who, where'er Thou comest, dost fortify, and settle there !
Who canst defend as well as get,
Now thou art in, thou ne'er wilt part
With one inch of my vanquish'd heart; For, since thou took'st it by assault from me, 'Tis garrison'd so strong with thoughts of thee,
It fears no beauteous enemy.
Had thy charming strength been less, I’ad served ere this an hundred mistresses :
I'm better thus, nor would compound
A prison in which I still would be,
In spite both of thy coldness and thy pride,
For only death can them divide.
Close, narrow chain, yet soft and kind As that which spirits above to good does bind,
Gentle and sweet Necessity, Which does not force, but guide, our liberty!
Your love on me were spent in vain,
Since my love still could but remain Just as it is; but what, alas! can be Added to that which hath infinity
Both in extent and quality.
Do I the sacred name conceal;
This gentle mystery to reveal ?
Shall any stanza with it shine, Rest, mighty name! till then; for thou must be Laid down by her, ere taken
up by me. Then all the fields and woods shall with it ring;
Then Echo's burthen it shall be;
And all the rivers murmur, thee;
Then shall thy name through all my verse be spread,
Thick as the flowers in meadows lie,
(As sure, I think, they will not die)
To represent thee by ;
One that enough should signify:
Drops tears more fair than others' eyes.
The' attire thy sorrow wears,
Nor know the beauty of thy tears ;
In that illustrious sphere,
Like a Narcissus does appear,
As this sunshine and rain together.
(For some such fountain we must find,
To waters of so fair a kind) Melt not, to feed that beauteous stream below! VOL. II,
Ah, mighty Love! that it were inward heat
Which made this precious limbec sweet! But what, alas! ah, what does it avail,
That she weeps tears so wondrous cold.
As scarce the ass's hoof can hold,
Discreet! what means this word discreet ?
A curse on all discretion !
In all Love's lexicon.
Jointure, portion, gold, estate,
Houses, household-stuff, or land (The low conveniencies of Fate),
Are Greek no lovers understand.
Believe me, beauteous one! when love
Enters into a breast,
Are friends and interest.
Passion's half blind, nor can endure
The careful, scrupulous eyes; Or else I could not love, I'm
sure, One who in love were wise.
Men in such tempests toss'd about,
Will, without grief or pain,
Themselves their port to gain.
As well might martyrs, who do choose
That sacred death to take, Mourn for the clothes which they must lose,
When they're bound naked to the stake.
THE WAITING MAID.
The Maid! ah ! find some nobler theme
Whereon thy doubts to place;
The glories of thy face.
So exquisitely bright,
Before thy potent light.
Maliciously are spent;
That's else a civil government.
Is but a barbarous skill;
Too apt before to kill.
"Tis not their beauty' or face,
But their high office and their place,
Saint she; I
pray to her, only to pray to thee.