« הקודםהמשך »
* Unhappy child, who thus hast lost
But she tomorrow will retur : All the estate we e'er could boast;
Venus, be thou tomorrow great; Whither, O whither wilt thou run,
Thy myrtles strow, thy vlours burn, Thy name despis'd, thy weakness known?
And meet thy favourite nymph in state. Nor shall thy shrine on Earth be crown'd;
Kind goddess, to no other jowers Nor shall thy power in Heaven be own'd;
Let us tomorrow's blessings own: When thou nor man nor god canst wound."
Thy darling loves shall guide the hours ;
And all the day be thine alone.
-Tantæne animis cælestibus iræ ? Ving: Fear not we c'er can be disgrac'd
In Virgil's sacred verse we find, While that bright magazine shall last :
That passion can depress or raise Your crowded altars still shall smoke;
The heavenly, as the human mind :
Who dare deny what Virgil says ?
But if they should, what our great master
Has thus laid down, my tale shall prove :
Of having lost her favourite Dove.
In complaisance poor Cupid mourn'd;
His grief reliev'd his mother's pain; Venus stood bathing in a river;
He vow'd he'd leave no stone unturn'd, Cupid a-shooting went that way,
But she should have her Dove again. New strung his bow, new fillid his quiver,
“ Though none,” said he, “shall yet be nam'd, With skill be chose his sharpest dart,
I know the felon well enough: With all his might his bow he drew;
But be shè not, Mamma, condemn'd Swift to his beauteous parent's heart
Without a fair and legal proof.” The too-well-guided arrow flew.
With that, his longest dart he took, " I faint! I die!" the goddess cried :
As constable would take his statl': "O cruel, could'st thou find none other, That gods desire like men to look, To wreck thy spleen on? parricide!
Would make e'en Heraclitus laugh. Like Nero, thou hast slain thy mother."
Love's subalterns, a duteous band, Poor Capid sobbing scarce could speak;
Like watchmen, round their chief appear: “ Indeed, mamma, I did not know ye :
Each had his lantern in his hand; Alas! how (asy my mistake!
And Venus mask'd brought up the rear. I took you for your likeness Cloe."
Accoutred thus, their eager step
To Cloe's lodging they directed:
(At once I write, alas! and weep, VEVUS MISTAKEN.
That Cloe is of theft suspected). W e Cloe's picture was tn Venus shown,
Late they set out, had far to go : Sarpris'd, the goddess took it for her own. (mean?
St. Dunstan's as they pass'd struck one. " And what,” said she, “ does this bold painter
Cloe, for reasons goud, you know,
Lives at the sober end oth' town. When was I bathing thus, and naked seen ?"
With one great peal they rap the door, Pleas'd Cupid heard, and check'd his mother's
Like footmen on a visiting-day. pride;
Folks at her house at such an hour! “And who's blind now, mamma?” the urchin cried. “ Tis Cloe's eye, and cheek, and lip, and brcast:
Lord! what will all the neighbours say ? Briend Howard's genius fancied all the rest." The door is open : up they run:
Nor prayers, nor threats, divert their speed,
They'll kill my mistress in her bed."
In bed indeed the nymph had been
Three hours : for, all historians say, To ease the sickness of the soul,
She commonly went up at ten,
Unless piquet was in the way.
She wak'd, be sure, with strange surprise
O Cupid, is this right or law, And seek for pleasure, to destroy
| Thus to disturb the brightest erns The sorrows of this live-long nights
1 That ever slept, or ever suws
Have you observ'd a sitting hare,
“ Search, then," she said, “ put in your hand, Listening, and fearful of the storm
And Cynthia, dear protectress, guard me: Of horns and hounds, clap back her ear,
As guilty I, or free, may stand, Afraid to keep, or leave her form?
Do thou or punish or reward me.” Or have you mark'd a partridge quake,
But ah? what maid to Love can trust! Viewing the towering falcon nigh?
He scorns, and breaks, all legal power : She cuddles low behind the brake :
Into her breast his hand he thrust; Nor would she stay; nor dares she fly,
And in a moment forc'd it lower. Then have you seen the beauteous maid;
“0, whither do those fingers rove," When gazing on her midnight focs,
Cries Cloe, “ treacherous urchin, whither?” She turn'd each way her frighted head,
“ O Venus! I shall find thy Dove," Then sunk it deep beneath the clothes,
Says he ; " for sure I touch his feather."
Incognito : for Susan said,
A LOVER'S ANGER.
As Cloe came into the room t' other day,
I peevish began: Where so long could you stay? And thus to Cloe spoke the god :
In your life-time you never regarded your hour;
You promis'd at two; and (pray look child,) 'tis “ Hold up your head: hold up your hand :
four, Would it were not my lot to show ye
A lady's watch needs neither figures nor wheels : This cruel writ, wherein you stan!
"Tis enough, that'tis loaded with baubles and seals, Indicted by the name of Cloe !
A temper so heedless no mortal can bear". “ For that, by secret malice stirr'd,
Thus far I went on with a resolute air. (speak !" Or by an emulous pride invited,
“Lord bless me!” said she; “ let a body but You have purloin'd the favourite bird,
Hre's an ugly hard rose-bud fallen into my neck: In which my mother most delighted.”
It has hurt ine, and vext me to such a degree Her blushing face the lovely maid
See here! for you never believe me; pray see, Rais'd just above the milk-white sheet;
On the left side my breast, what a mark it has A rose-tree in a lily bed
So saying, her bosom she careless display'd: Nor glows so red, nor breathes so sweet,
That seat of delight I with wonder survey'd • Are ye not he whom virgins fear,
And forgot every word I design'd to have said, And widows court? is not your name Cupid? If so, pray come not near"-
" Fair maiden, l'm the very sąme." « Then what have I, good sir, to say,
MERCURY AND CUPID.
In sullen humour one day Jove
Sent Hermes down to Ida's grove, 6 Diana chaste, and Hebe sweet,
Commanding Cupid to deliver Witness that what I speak is true :
His store of darts, his total quiver; I would not give my paroquet
That Hermes should the weapons break, For all the Doves that ever flew,
Or throw them into Lethe's lake.
Hermes, you know, must do his errand : “ Yet, to compose this midnight noise,
He found his man, produc'd his warrant : Go freely search where-e'er you please,
“ Cupid! your darts-this very hour (The rage, that rais'd, adorn'd her voice)
There's no contending against power!” Upon yon toilet lie my keys."
How sullen Jupiter, just now, Her keys he takes; her doors unlocks;
I think I said; and you'll allow
Hear but the youngster's repartee.
“ Come, kinsman,” said the little god, But dove, depend on't, finds he none;
“ Put off your wings, lay by your rod; So to the bed returns again :
Retire with me to yonder bower, And now the maiden, bolder grown,
And rest yourself for half an hour: Begins to treat him with disdain.
'Tis far indeed from hence to Heaven:
But you fly fast: and 'tis but seven. f 1 marvel much," she smiling said,
We'll take one cooling cup of nectar ; “ Your poultry cannot yet be found;
And drink to this celestial Hector, Lies he in yonder slipper dead?
“ He break my darts! or burt my power! Or, may be, in the tea-pot drown'd?"
He, Leda's swan and Danaë's shower! “ No, traitor,” angry Love replies,
Go, bid him his wise tongue restrain, “ He's hid somewhere about your breast; And mind his thunder, and his rain. A place nor god nor man denies,
My darts ! ( certainly I'll give 'em :
From Cloe's eyes he shall receive 'ems
ON BEAUTY.. THE QUESTION..LISETTA’S REPLY. There's one, the best in all my quiver,
Here listening Cloe smild, and said: Twang! through his very heart and liver;
" Your riddle is not hard to read: : He then shall pine, and sigh, and rave:
I guess it.”-“ Fair one, if you do, Good Lord! what bustle shall we have!
Need I, alas! the theme pursue? Neptune must straight be sent to sea,
For this, thou seest, for this I leave And Flora summon d twice a day:
Whate'er the world thinks wise or grave, One must find shells, and t'other flowers,
Ainbition, business, friendship, news, For cooling grots, and tragrant bowers,
My useful books, and serious Muse. That Cloe may be serv'd in state,
For this, I willingly decline The Hours must at her toilet wait:
The mirth of feasts, and joys of wine; Whilst all the reasoning fools below
And choose to sit and talk with thee Wonder their watches go too slow.
(As thy great orders may decree) Lybs must fly south, and Eurus east,
Of cocks and bulls, and Mutes and fiddles,
Of idle tales and foolish riddles."
Wuat nymph should I admire or trust, · Phæbus must write him amorous odes.
But Cloe beauteous, Cloe just? And thou, poor cousin, must compose
What nymph should I desire to see, His letters in submissive prose;
But her who leaves the plain for me? Whilst haughty Cloe, to sustain
To whom should I compose the lay, The honour of my mystic reign,
But her who listens when I play? Shall all his gifts and vows disdain,
To whom in song repeat my carts, And laugh at your old bully's pain."
But her who in my sorrow shares?
But her who joys the gift to take,
Lisetta, pr'ythee tell the rest.
LISETTA'S REPLY. Or forfeit me one precious kiss. 'Tis the first offspring of the Graces;
| Sure Cloc just, and Cloe fair, Bears different forms in different places;
Deserves to be your only care: Acknowledg'd fine, where'er beheld;
But, when you and she today Yet fancied finer, when conceal'd.
Far into the wood did stray, 'Twas Flora's wealth, and Circe's charm;
And I happend to pass by ; Pandora's box of good and harm :
Which way did you cast your eye? 'Twas Mars's wish, Endymion's dream;
But, when your cares to her you sing, Apelles' draught, and Ovid's theme.
Yet dare not tell her whence they spring? This guided Theseus through the maze;
Does it not more aflict your heart, And sent him home with life and praise :
That in those cares she bears a part? But this tindid the Phrygian boy;
When you the flowers for Cloe twine, And blew the flames that ruin'd Troy.
Why do you to ber garland join This show'd great kindness to old Greece,
The meanest bud that falls from mine?
Simplest of swains! the world may see
The pride of every grove I chose, For this Alcides learn'd to spin :
The violet sweet and lily fair, His club laid down, and lion's skin.
The dappled pink, and blushing rose,
To deck my charming Cloe's hair.
At morn the nymph vouchsaf'd to place
Upon her brow the various wreath; In borrow'd figures loosely ran,
The flowers less blooming than her face, Europa's bull, and Leda's swan:
The scent less fragrant than her breath. For this he re-assumes the nod,
The flowers she wore along the day: (While Semele commands the god)
And every nymph and shepherd said, Launches the bolt, and shakes the poles:
That in her hair they look'd more gay Thougha Momus laughs, and Juno scold,
Than glowing in their native bod.
Unirest at evening, when she found
| When in my glass I chanc'd to look ; Their odours lost, their colours past;
Of Venus what did I implore? She chang'd her look, and on the ground
That every grace, which thence I took, Her garland and her eye she cast.
Should know to charm my Damon more, That eye dropt sense distinct and clear,
Reading thy verse; “ Who heeds," said I, As any Muse's tongue could spcak,
“ If here or there his glances flew ? Wh:n from its lid a pearly tear
0, free for ever be his eye, Ran trickling down her beautcous cheek.
Whose heart to me is always true !" Dissembling wbat I knew too well,
My bloom indeed, my little flower .“ My love, my life," said I, "explain
Of Beauty quickly lost its pride: This change of humour: pr'ythee tell:
For, sever'd from its native bower, That falling tear--what does it inean?”
It on thy glowing bosom dy'd.
Yet car'd I not what might presage She sigh'd; she smil'd: and, to the flowers
Or withering wreath, or Hecting youth; Pointing, the lovely moralist said : :
Love I esteem'd more strong than Age, “ See, friend, in some few fleeting bours,
And Time less permanent than Truth. See yonder, what a change is made !
Why then I weep, forbear to know : " Ah, me! the blooming pride of May,
Fall uncontrollid, my tears, and free; And that of Beauty, are but one:
O Damon! tis the only woe, At morn both flourish bright and gay ;
I ever yet conceal'd from thee. Both fade at evening, pale, and gone.
The secret wound with which I bleed “ At dawn poor Stella danc'd and sung;
Shall lie wrapt up, ev'n in my hearse; The amorous youth around her bow'd :
But on my tomb-stone thou shalt read At night her fatal knell was rung;
My answer to thy dubious verse. I saw, and kiss'd her in her shroud. " Such as she is, who died today;
Snch I, alas ! may be tomorrow : Go, Damon, bid thy Muse display
ANSWER TO CHLOE JEALOUS, The justice of thy Cloe's sorrow."
IN THE SAME STYLE; THE AUTHOR SICK, Yes, fairest proof of Beauty's power,
Dear idol of my panting heart,
Nature points this my fatal hour:
While now I take my last adieu,
Heave thou no sigh, nor shed a tear ;
Lest yet my half-clos'd eye may view Venus, take my votive glass;
On earth an object worth its care. Since I am not what I was,
From Jealousy's tormenting strife What from this day I shall be,
For ever be thy bosom freed : Venus, let me never sce.
That nothing may disturb thy life,
Content I hasten to the dead.
Shall with his amorous parley move thee;
Reflect one moment on his truth
Who, dying thus, persists to love thee. FORBEAR to ask me, why I weep;
Vext Cloe to her shcpherd said;
A BETTER ANSWER.
Dear Cloe, how blubber'd is that pretty face! Emblems, to teach a female wit
Thy check all on fire, and thy hair all uncurl'da The ways, where changing Cupid flies ?
Prythee quit this caprice; and (as old Falstaffsays) Your riddle purpos'd to rehearse
Let us ev'n talk a little like folks of this world. The general power that beauty has :
How canst thou presume, thou hast leave to destroy But why did not peculiar versc
The bcanties, which Venus but lent to thy keepDescribe one charm of Cloe's face?
ing? The glass, which was at Venus' shrine,
Thosc looks were design'd to inspire love and joy : With such mysterious soriuw laid:
More ordinary eyes may serve people for weepThe garland (and you call it mine)
Which show'd how youth and beauty fade: To be vext at a trife or two that I writ, Ten thousand trifles light as these
Your judgment at once, and my passion, you Nor caniny rage, nos anger, move :
wrong : She should be humble, who would please ; . You take that for fact, which will scarce be found wit: And she must sutier, who can love,
| Od's-life! inust one swear to the truth of a song!
PALLAS AND VENUS.. A YOUNG GENTLEMAN IN LOVE. 153 What I speak, my fair Cloe, and what I write, 1 To sum up all the rage of Fate shows
In the two things I dread and hate,
While with delight the lovely maid
Receiv'd the vows she thus repaid : The god of us verse-men, (you know, child) the Sun,
“ Hope of my age, joy of my youth, How after his journeys he sets up his rest :
Blest miracle of love and truth; If at morning o'er oarth 'tis bis fancy to run;
All that could e'er be counted mine, At night he declines on his Thetis's breast.
My love and life, long since are thine; So when I am weary'd with wandering all day, A real joy I never knew,
To thee my delight in the evening I come : Till I believ'd thy passion true :
A real grief I ne'er can find,
Contempt, and poverty, and care,
All we abhor, and all we fear,
Blest with thy presence, I can bear.
Sufferer and solace of thy woe :
And make my constant passion known
By more than woman yet has done.
" Had I a wish that did not bear
The stamp and image of my dear,
“ Yield, sister; rival, yield : naked, you see, To be the Persian monarch's bride, I vanquish : guess how potent I should be,
Partner of all his power and pride ; If to the field I came in armour drest;
Or rule in regal state above, Dreadful, like thine, my shield, and terrible my | Mother of gods, and wife of Jove." crest!”
O happy these of human race! The warrior goddess, with disdain, reply'd :. But soon, alas! our pleasures pass. " Thy folly, child, is equal to thy gods : banii He thank'd her on his bended knee; Let a brave enemy for once advise,
Then drank a quart of milk and tea; And Venus (if 'tis possible) be wise.
And leaving her ador'd embrace,
While she, his absence to bemoan,
Where all this time he had been hid.
TO A YOUNG GENTLEMAN IN LOVE.
While men bave these ambitious fancies;
* From public noise and factious strife,
“ To painted roof and shining spires
AN ENGLISH PADLOCK.
Cupid was with him of the party,