The Complete Poems (Penguin Classics)

  Would think to charm my judgement, as mine eyes,

  Obtruding false rules pranked in reason’s garb.

  760 I hate when vice can bolt her arguments,

  And virtue has no tongue to check her pride:

  Impostor do not charge most innocent Nature,

  As if she would her children should be riotous

  With her abundance; she good cateress

  765 Means her provision only to the good

  That live according to her sober laws,

  And holy dictate of spare Temperance:

  If every just man that now pines with want

  Had but a moderate and beseeming share

  770 Of that which lewdly–pampered Luxury

  Now heaps upon some few with vast excess,

  Nature’s full blessings would be well-dispensed

  In unsuperfluous even proportion,

  And she no whit encumbered with her store;

  775 And then the Giver would be better thanked,

  His praise due paid, for swinish gluttony

  Ne’er looks to Heav’n amidst his gorgeous feast,

  But with besotted base ingratitude

  Crams, and blasphemes his feeder. Shall I go on?

  780 Or have I said enough? To him that dares

  Arm his profane tongue with contemptuous words

  Against the sun–clad power of Chastity,

  Fain would I something say, yet to what end?

  Thou hast nor ear, nor soul to apprehend

  785 The súblime notion, and high mystery

  That must be uttered to unfold the sage

  And serious doctrine of Virginity,

  And thou art worthy that thou shouldst not know

  More happiness than this thy present lot.

  790 Enjoy your dear wit, and gay rhetoric

  That hath so well been taught her dazzling fence,

  Thou art not fit to hear thyself convinced;

  Yet should I try, the uncontrollèd worth

  Of this pure cause would kindle my rapt spirits

  795 To such a flame of sacred vehemence,

  That dumb things would be moved to sympathize,

  And the brute earth would lend her nerves, and shake,

  Till all thy magic structures reared so high,

  Were shattered into heaps o’er thy false head.

  800 Comus. She fables not, I feel that I do fear

  Her words set off by some superior power;

  And though not mortal, yet a cold shuddering dew

  Dips me all o’er, as when the wrath of Jove

  Speaks thunder, and the chains of Erebus

  805 To some of Saturn’s crew. I must dissemble,

  And try her yet more strongly. Come, no more,

  This is mere moral babble, and direct

  Against the canon laws of our foundation;

  I must not suffer this; yet ’tis but the lees

  810 And settlings of a melancholy blood;

  But this will cure all straight, one sip of this

  Will bathe the drooping spirits in delight

  Beyond the bliss of dreams. Be wise, and taste.—

  The Brothers rush in with swords drawn, wrest his glass out of his hand, and break it against the ground; his rout make sign of resistance, but are all driven in; the Attendant Spirit comes in.

  Spirit. What, have you let the false enchanter ’scape?

  815 O ye mistook, ye should have snatched his wand

  And bound him fast; without his rod reversed,

  And backward mutters of dissevering power,

  We cannot free the Lady that sits here

  In stony fetters fixed, and motionless;

  820 Yet stay, be not disturbed, now I bethink me,

  Some other means I have which may be used,

  Which once of Meliboeus old I learnt,

  The soothest shepherd that e’er piped on plains.

  There is a gentle nymph not far from hence,

  825 That with moist curb sways the smooth Severn stream,

  Sabrina is her name, a virgin pure;

  Whilom she was the daughter of Locrine,

  That had the sceptre from his father Brute.

  She guiltless damsel flying the mad pursuit

  830 Of her enragèd stepdame Guendolen,

  Commended her fair innocence to the flood

  That stayed her flight with his cross-flowing course;

  The water nymphs that in the bottom played,

  Held up their pearled wrists and took her in,

  835 Bearing her straight to agèd Nereus’ hall,

  Who piteous of her woes, reared her lank head,

  And gave her to his daughters to imbathe

  In nectared lavers strewed with asphodel,

  And through the porch and inlet of each sense

  840 Dropped in ambrosial oils till she revived,

  And underwent a quick immortal change

  Made goddess of the river; still she retains

  Her maiden gentleness, and oft at eve

  Visits the herds along the twilight meadows,

  845 Helping all urchin blasts, and ill–luck signs

  That the shrewd meddling elf delights to make,

  Which she with precious vialed liquors heals.

  For which the shepherds at their festivals

  Carol her goodness loud in rustic lays,

  850 And throw sweet garland wreaths into her stream

  Of pansies, pinks, and gaudy daffodils.

  And, as the old swain said, she can unlock

  The clasping charm, and thaw the numbing spell,

  If she be right invoked in warbled song,

  855 For maidenhood she loves, and will be swift

  To aid a virgin, such as was herself

  In hard–besetting need; this will I try

  And add the power of some adjuring verse.

  Song

  Sabrina fair,

  860 Listen where thou art sitting

  Under the glassy, cool, translucent wave,

  In twisted braids of lilies knitting

  The loose train of thy amber-dropping hair;

  Listen for dear honour’s sake,

  865 Goddess of the silver lake,

  Listen and save.

  Listen and appear to us

  In name of great Oceanus,

  By th’ earth-shaking Neptune’s mace,

  870 And Tethys’ grave majestic pace,

  By hoary Nereus’ wrinkled look,

  And the Carpathian wizard’s hook,

  By scaly Triton’s winding shell,

  And old sooth-saying Glaucus’ spell,

  875 By Leucothea’s lovely hands,

  And her son that rules the strands,

  By Thetis’ tinsel-slippered feet,

  And the songs of Sirens sweet,

  By dead Parthenope’s dear tomb,

  880 And fair Ligea’s golden comb,

  Wherewith she sits on diamond rocks

  Sleeking her soft alluring locks,

  By all the nymphs that nightly dance

  Upon thy streams with wily glance,

  885 Rise, rise, and heave thy rosy head

  From thy coral-paven bed,

  And bridle in thy headlong wave,

  Till thou our summons answered have.

  Listen and save.

  Sabrina rises, attended by water-nymphs, and sings,

  890 By the rushy-fringèd bank,

  Where grows the willow and the osier dank,

  My sliding chariot stays,

  Thick set with agate, and the azurn sheen

  Of turkis blue, and emerald green

  895 That in the channel strays,

  Whilst from off the waters fleet

  Thus I set my printless feet

  O’er the cowslip’s velvet head,

  That bends not as I tread;

  900 Gentle swain at thy request

  I am here.

  Spirit. Goddess dear

&nb
sp; We implore thy powerful hand

  To undo the charmèd band

  905 Of true virgin here distressed,

  Through the force, and through the wile

  Of unblest enchanter vile.

  Sabrina. Shepherd ’tis my office best

  To help ensnarèd chastity;

  910 Brightest Lady look on me,

  Thus I sprinkle on thy breast

  Drops that from my fountain pure,

  I have kept of precious cure;

  Thrice upon thy finger’s tip,

  915 Thrice upon thy rubied lip,

  Next this marble venomed seat

  Smeared with gums of glutinous heat

  I touch with chaste palms moist and cold,

  Now the spell hath lost his hold;

  920 And I must haste ere morning hour

  To wait in Amphitrite’s bower.

  Sabrina descends, and the Lady rises out of her seat.

  Spirit. Virgin, daughter of Locrine

  Sprung of old Anchises’ line,

  May thy brimmèd waves for this

  925 Their full tribute never miss

  From a thousand petty rills,

  That tumble down the snowy hills:

  Summer drought, or singèd air

  Never scorch thy tresses fair,

  930 Nor wet October’s torrent flood

  Thy molten crystal fill with mud,

  May thy billows roll ashore

  The beryl, and the golden ore;

  May thy lofty head be crowned

  935 With many a tower and terrace round,

  And here and there thy banks upon

  With groves of myrrh, and cinnamon.

  Come Lady while Heaven lends us grace,

  Let us fly this cursèd place,

  940 Lest the sorcerer us entice

  With some other new device.

  Not a waste, or needless sound

  Till we come to holier ground;

  I shall be your faithful guide

  945 Through this gloomy covert wide,

  And not many furlongs thence

  Is your father’s residence,

  Where this night are met in state

  Many a friend to gratulate

  950 His wished presence, and beside

  All the swains that there abide,

  With jigs, and rural dance resort,

  We shall catch them at their sport,

  And our sudden coming there

  955 Will double all their mirth and cheer;

  Come let us haste, the stars grow high,

  But Night sits monarch yet in the mid sky.

  The scene changes presenting Ludlow Town and the President’s Castle, then come in country dancers, after them the Attendant Spirit, with the two Brothers and the Lady.

  Song

  Spirit. Back shepherds, back, enough your play,

  Till next sunshine holiday,

  960 Here be without duck or nod

  Other trippings to be trod

  Of lighter toes, and such court guise

  As Mercury did first devise

  With the mincing Dryades

  965 On the lawns, and on the leas.

  This second song presents them to their father and mother.

  Noble Lord, and Lady bright,

  I have brought ye new delight,

  Here behold so goodly grown

  Three fair branches of your own;

  970 Heav’n hath timely tried their youth,

  Their faith, their patience, and their truth.

  And sent them here through hard assays

  With a crown of deathless praise,

  To triumph in victorious dance

  975 O’er sensual folly, and intemperance.

  The dances ended, the Spirit epiloguizes.

  Spirit. To the Ocean now I fly,

  And those happy climes that lie

  Where day never shuts his eye,

  Up in the broad fields of the sky:

  980 There I suck the liquid air

  All amidst the gardens fair

  Of Hesperus, and his daughters three

  That sing about the golden tree:

  Along the crispèd shades and bow’rs

  985 Revels the spruce and jocund Spring;

  The Graces, and the rosy–bosomed Hours,

  Thither all their bounties bring,

  That there eternal Summer dwells,

  And west winds, with musky wing

  990 About the cedarn alleys fling

  Nard, and cassia’s balmy smells.

  Iris there with humid bow,

  Waters the odorous banks that blow

  Flowers of more mingled hue

  995 Than her purfled scarf can show,

  And drenches with Elysian dew

  (List mortals, if your ears be true)

  Beds of hyacinth, and roses

  Where young Adonis oft reposes,

  1000 Waxing well of his deep wound

  In slumber soft, and on the ground

  Sadly sits th’ Assyrian queen;

  But far above in spangled sheen

  Celestial Cupid her famed son advanced,

  1005 Holds his dear Psyche sweet entranced

  After her wand’ring labours long,

  Till free consent the gods among

  Make her his eternal bride,

  And from her fair unspotted side

  1010 Two blissful twins are to be born,

  Youth and Joy; so Jove hath sworn.

  But now my task is smoothly done,

  I can fly, or I can run

  Quickly to the green earth’s end,

  1015 Where the bowed welkin slow doth bend,

  And from thence can soar as soon

  To the corners of the moon.

  Mortals that would follow me,

  Love Virtue, she alone is free,

  1020 She can teach ye how to climb

  Higher than the sphery chime;

  Or if Virtue feeble were,

  Heav’n itself would stoop to her.

  ENGLISH POEMS ADDED IN 1673

  On the Death of a Fair Infant Dying of a Cough Anno aetatis 17

  I

  O fairest flower no sooner blown but blasted,

  Soft silken primrose fading timelessly,

  Summer’s chief honour if thou hadst outlasted

  Bleak Winter’s force that made thy blossom dry;

  5 For he being amorous on that lovely dye

  That did thy cheek envermeil, thought to kiss

  But killed alas, and then bewailed his fatal bliss.

  II

  For since grim Aquilo his charioteer

  By boist’rous rape th’ Athenian damsel got,

  10 He thought it touched his deity full near,

  If likewise he some fair one wedded not,

  Thereby to wipe away th’ infámous blot

  Of long-uncoupled bed, and childless eld,

  Which ’mongst the wanton gods a foul reproach was held.

  III

  15 So mounting up in icy-pearlèd car,

  Through middle empire of the freezing air

  He wandered long, till thee he spied from far;

  There ended was his quest, there ceased his care.

  Down he descended from his snow-soft chair,

  20 But all unwares with his cold-kind embrace

  Unhoused thy virgin soul from her fair biding-place.

  IV

  Yet art thou not inglorious in thy fate;

  For so Apollo, with unweeting hand

  Whilom did slay his dearly-lovèd mate

  25 Young Hyacinth born on Eurotas’ strand,

  Young Hyacinth the pride of Spartan land;

  But then transformed him to a purple flower;

  Alack that so to change thee Winter had no power.

  V

  Yet can I not persuade me thou art dead

  30 Or that thy corse corrupts in earth’s dark womb,

  Or that thy beauties lie in wormy bed,
br />   Hid from the world in a low-delvèd tomb;

  Could Heav’n for pity thee so strictly doom?

  O no! for something in thy face did shine

  35 Above mortality that showed thou wast divine.

  VI

  Resolve me then O soul most surely blest

  (If so it be that thou these plaints dost hear),

  Tell me bright spirit where’er thou hoverest,

  Whether above that high first-moving sphere

  40 Or in the Elysian fields (if such there were),

  O say me true if thou wert mortal wight,

  And why from us so quickly thou didst take thy flight.

  VII

  Wert thou some star which from the ruined roof

  Of shaked Olympus by mischance didst fall;

  45 Which careful Jove in Nature’s true behoof

  Took up, and in fit place did reinstall?

  Or did of late Earth’s sons besiege the wall

  Of sheeny heav’n, and thou some goddess fled

  Amongst us here below to hide thy nectared head?

  VIII

  50 Or wert thou that just maid who once before

  Forsook the hated earth, O tell me sooth,

  And cam’st again to visit us once more?

  Or wert thou [Mercy] that sweet smiling youth?

  Or that crowned matron, sage white-robèd Truth?

  55 Or any other of that Heav’nly brood

  Let down in cloudy throne to do the world some good?

  IX

  Or wert thou of the golden-wingèd host,

  Who having clad thyself in human weed,

  To earth from thy prefixèd seat didst post,

  60 And after short abode fly back with speed,

  As if to show what creatures Heav’n doth breed,

  Thereby to set the hearts of men on fire

  To scorn the sordid world, and unto Heav’n aspire?

  X

  But O why didst thou not stay here below

  65 To bless us with thy Heav’n-loved innocence,

  To slake his wrath whom sin hath made our foe,

  To turn swift-rushing black perdition hence,

  Or drive away the slaughtering pestilence,

  To stand ’twixt us and our deservèd smart?

  70 But thou canst best perform that office where thou art.

  XI

  Then thou the mother of so sweet a child

  Her false imagined loss cease to lament,

  And wisely learn to curb thy sorrows wild;

  Think what a present thou to God hast sent,

  75 And render him with patience what he lent;

  This if thou do he will an offspring give,

  That till the world’s last end shall make thy name to live.

  At a Vacation Exercise in the College, part Latin,

  part English

  Anno aetatis 19

  The Latin Speeches ended, the English thus began