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As when, beyond our greedy rcach, we fee That could this deathless piece compose!
In lilies? or the fading rose ?
Dorothea made This glorious piece transcends what he could
Had held an altar to her power that gave
Einbroider'd so with fowers where she stood,
Her presence has such more than human grace,
That it can civilize the rudeft place:
And beauty too, and order can impart,
Where nature nc'er intended it, nor art.
The plants acknowledge this, and her admire, From thy shop of beauty we
No less than those of old did Orpheus' lyre: Slaves return, that enter'd free.
If the fit down, with tops all tow'rds her bow'd, The heedless lover does not know
They round about her into arbors crowd: Whose eyes they are that wound him fo: Or if she walk, in even ranks they stand, But, confounded with thy art,
Like some well-marhald and obsequious band. nquires her name that has his heart.
Amph.on so made ftones and timber leap Another, who did long refrain,
Into fair figures, from a confus'd heap: eels his old wound bleed fresh again,
All in the symmetry of her parts is found With dear remembrance of that face,
A power, like that of harmony in sound. , Where now he reads new hope of grace:
Ye lofty beeches, tell this matchless dame, Por scorn nor cruelty does find:
That if together ye fed all one flame, lut gladly suffers a false wind
It could not equalize the hundredth part, o blow the ashes of despair
Of what her eyes have kindled in my heart.rom the seviving brand of care.
Go, boy, and carve this paffion on the bark ool! that forgets her stubborn look
Of yonder tree, which stands the sacred mark his softness from thy finger took.
Of noble Sidney's birth ; when such benign, trange! that thy hand should not inspire Such more than mortal-making stars did shine; 'he beauty only, but the fire:
That there they cannot but for ever prove lot the form alone, and grace,
The monument and pledge of humble love: ut ad, and power, of a face.
His hunible love, whose hope shall ne'er rise lay't thou yet thyself as well,
higher, s all the world besides, excel !
Than for a pardon that he dares admire. you th' unfeign'd truth rchearse, That I may make it live in verse) Why thou couldīt not, at one assay, hat face to after-times convey,
TO MY LORD OF LEICESTER. hich this admires. Was it thy wit make her oft before thee fit?
COT that thy trees at Pens-Hurst groan, onfess, and we'll forgive thee this:
Opprest with their timely load; r who would not repeat that bliss ?
And seem to make their filent moan, nd frequent sight of such a dame
That their great lord is now abroad: ay, with the hazard of his fame?
They to delight his taste, or eye, t who can tax thy blameless skill,
Would spend themselves in fruit, and dye. nough thy good band had failed still;
Not that thy harmless dcer repine, hen nature's self so often errs? e for this many thousand years
And think themselves unjustly flain ems to have practis'd with much care,
By any other hand than thine,
Whose arrows they would gladly stain: frame the race of women fair;
No, nor thy friends, which hold too dear t never could a perfect birth oduce before, to grace the earth :
That peace with France, and keeps the there. hich waxed old, ere it could see
All these are less than that great cause, r that amaz'd thy Art, and thee.
Which now exacts your presence here; But now, 'tis done, O let ine know
Wherein there meet the divers laws ese those immortal colours grow,
Of public and domestic care,
For one bright Nymph our youth contends, * Pyrocles and Mufidorus.
And on your prudent choice depende.
Not the bright shield of * Thetis' fon, Paints her, 'tis true : trick the fame haad with (For which such stern debate did riss,
spreads That the great Ajax Telamon
Liké glorious colors through the flowery meads ; Refus d to live without the prize)
When lavish natare with her beft attire Those Achive Peers did more engage,
Clothes the gay fpring, the feason of defire. Than the the gallants of our age.
Paints her, 'tis true, and does her cheek adorn, That beam of beauty, which begun
With the same art wherewith he paints the mean ; To warm us fo, when thou wert here,
With the faine art, wherewith the gildeth is Now scorches like the raging fun,
Those painted clouds which form Thaumantas When Sirius does first appear.
bow. O fix this fame; and let despair, Redeem the rest from endless care!
And stars with rocks together cruth'd zu
The Sun his light no further could extend To bath himself in Sachariffa's eyes. Than the next hill, which on jis shoulders lea': As fair Aftræa once from earth to heaven,
So in this throng bright Sachariffa far'd, By ftrife and loud impiety was driven :
Oppress'd by those who ftrove to be her guard: So with our plaints offended, and our tears, As ships, though never fo obsequious, fall Wife Somnus to that paradife repairs ;
Foul in a tempest on their Adriral. Waits on her will, and wretches does forfake,
A greater favor this diforder brought To court the Nymph, for whom those wretches Unto her servants, than their awful thought wake.
Durst entertain, when thus compelld they pd More proud than Phæbus of his throne of gold
The yielding marble of her snowy breast. Is the foft Ged, those fofter limbs to hold:
While Love insults, disguised in the cloud, Nor would exchange with Jove, to hide the skies And welcome force of that unruly crowd. In darkning clouds, the power to close her eyes : So th'amorous tree, while yet the air is cala, Eyes, which fo far all other lights control,
Just distance keeps from his defired Paim: They warm our mortal parts, but these our foul! But when the wind ber ravish'd branches chron
Let her free spirit, whose unconquer'd breast Into his arms, and mingles all their boughs; Holds such deep quict, and untroubled rett, Though loch he feems her tender leares to press Know, that though Venus and her son thould More loth he is that friendly ftorm thould caute, fpare
From whose rude bounty he the double tue Her rebel heart, and never teach her care;
At once receives, of pleasure and cuccse.
TITE STORY OF PLOEBUS AXD DAPSE AIT!
OF THE MIS-REPORT OF HER BEING PAINTZD.
Fair Sachariffa lov’d, but lov'd in vain >
Like Phæbus sung the no less amorous boy; A with their wild howlings at fair Cynthia's With Dumbers the theoryling Nymph pursees;
light; The noife may chafe sweet Number from her eyes, Such is the chace, when love and fancy
With Numbers such as Phæbus' self might ofe' But never reach the mistress of the skies: So, with the news of Sacharissa's wrongs,
O'er craggy mountains, and through foron Her vexed servants blame those envious tongues: Invok'd to testify the lover's care,
meads; Call Love to witness, that no painted fire Can scorch men so, or kindle luch defire:
Or form some image of his cruel Fair. While, unconcerned, the feems mov'd no more
Urg'd with his fury, like a wounded deer, With this new malice, than our loves before ;
O'er these he fled; and now approaching see. But, from the height of her great mind, looks Had reach'd the Nymph with his harmonies down
Whom all his charins could not incline to ftay, On both our passions, without smile or frown.
Yet, what he sung in his immortal strain, So little care of what is done below
Though unsuccessful, was not sung in vain: Hath the bright dame, whom Heaven affecteth All, but the Nymph that should redres Eis with, so!
Attend his pallion, and approve his long.
Like Phæbus thus, acquiring unfoughi paika * Achilles.
He catch'd at love, and fillid his arms with bora
FABULA PHOEBI ET DAPHNES. Receive these plaints: nor will her high disdain
Forbid my humble Muse to court hcr train. A RCA Racer es juvenis Thyrfis, Phæbique
So, in those nations which the fun adore,
Some modest Persian, or some weak-eyed Moor, Ingenti frustra Sachariffæ ardebat amore. No higher dares advance his dazzled light, Haud Deus ipfe olim Daphni majora canebat; Than to some gilded cloud, which near the light Nec fuit asperior Daphne, nec pulchrior illî: Of their ascending God adorns the cast, Carminibus Phæbo dignis premit ille fugacem And, graced with his beams, out-shines the rest. Per rupes, per faxa, volans per florida yates Thy skilfui hand contributes to our woe, Pascua: formofam nunc his componere Nympham, And whets those arrows which confound us fo; Nunc illis crudelem infanî mente solebat.
A thousand Cupids in those curls do fit, Audist illa procul miserum, cytharamque fonan- (Those curious nets!) thy slender fingers knit : tem;
The Graces put not more exactly on Audiît, at nullis refpexit mota querelis!
'Th' attire of Venus, whea the Ball the won : Ne tamen omnino caneret desertus, ad alta
Than Sachariffa by thy care is drest, Sidera perculsi referunt nova carmina montes. When all our youth prefers her to the rest. Sic, non quæsitis cumulatus laudibus, olim
You the soft season know, when best her mind Elapsâ reperit Daphne sua laurea Phæbus. May be to pity or to love inclin'd:
In some well-chosen hour supply his fear,
Of that ftern Goddess: you, her priest, declare
What offerings may propitiate the Fair :
Rich orient pearl, bright stones that ne'er decay, SAY AY, lovely Dream! where couldst thou find Or polish'd lines which longer last than they. Shades to counterfeit that face?
For if I thought she took delight in those, Colors of this glorious kind
To where the chearful morn docs first disclose Come not from any mortal place.
(The shady night removing with her beams)
Wing'd with bold love, I'd fly to fetch such gems, In heaven itself thou sure wert drejt
But since her eyes, her teeth, her lip excels With that angel-like disguise :
All that is found in mines, or fishes' shells; Thus deluded am I blest,
Her nobler part, as far exceeding these, And fee my joy with closed eyes.
None but immortal gifts her mind should please. But ah! this image is too kind
The shining jewels Greece and Troy bestow'd To be other than a dream :
On * Sparta's Queen, her lovely neck did load, Cruel Sachariffa's mind
And snowy wrists : but when the town way
burn'd, Never put on that sweet extreme !
Those fading glories were to ashes turn'd: Fair Dream ! if thou intend'st me grace, Her beauty too had perish'd, and her fame, Change that heavenly face of thine ;
Had not the Muse redeem'd them from the flame. Paint despis'd love in thy face,
And make it to appear like mine.
HILE in the park 1 sing, the listening
deer Then to that matchless Nymph appear,
Attend my passion, and forget to fear : In whose shape thou shinest fo;
When to the becches I report my flame, Softly in her sleeping ear,
They bow their heads, as if they felt the same: With humble words express my woe.
To Gods appealing, when I reach their bowers
With loud complaints, they answer me in Showers.' Perhaps from greatness, ftate, and pride, To Thee a wild and cruel foul is given,' Thus surprised she may fall:
More deaf than trees, and prouder than the Sleep does disproportion hide,
heaven! And death resembling, equals all.
Love's foe profess'd! why dost thou falsely feign
Of Love, and warm our nation with his fame;
Seems but the smoke of amorous Sidney's fire.
Nor call her mother, who fo well does prove AIR fellow-fervant! may your gentle ear One breast may hold both chastity and love. Prove more propitious to my slighted care,
Never can fhc, that so exceeds the spring
+ Sic Philip Sidney
SERVANT TO SACHARISSA.
One so destructive: to no human stock
Joy faiures me, when I Tet We owe this fierce unkindness; but the rock My bleft eyes on Amoret : That cloven rock produc'd thee, by whose lide But with wonder I am frook, Nature, to recompense the fatal pride
While I on the other look : Of such ftern beauty, plac'd those * healing If fweet Amoret complains springs;
I have fense of all her pains : Which not
morc help, than that destruction But for Sachariffa I
Do not only grieve, but die.
And, thofe scorching beams to fhus,
This last complaint th' indulgent ears did pierce I would not thus long have borne
Haughty Sacharifla's scorn : Highly concerned that the Mufe should bring But 'tis sure some Power above, Damage to one, whom he had taught to fing; Which controls our wills in love! Thus he advis'd me: “ On yon aged tree
If not a love, a strong desire
Which her radiant eyes do move:
Which how eas'ly I might do,
Amoret! as sweet and good
As the most delicious food,
Which, but tafted, does impart
Life and gladness to the heart. Into a world, which, wanting thee, Sacharilla's beauty 's wine, Could entertain us with no worth,
Which to madness doth inclide : Or shadow of felicity ?
Such a liquor, as no brain That time should me so far remove
That is mortal can fustain. From that which I was born to love!
Scarce can I to heaven encula
The devotion, which I use Yet, faireft blossom! do do not flight
Unto that adored dame: That age which you may know so foon :
For 'tis not unlike the same, The rosy morn religns her light,
Which I thither ought to send, And milder glory, to the noon:
So that if it could take end, And then what wonders shall you do,
"Twould to hearen itself be due, Whofe dawning beauty warms us so?
To succeed hes, and not you: Hope waits upon the flowery prime;
Who already have of me And summer, though it be less gay,
All that 's not idolatry : Yet is not look'd on as a time
Which, though not fo fierce a fame, Of declination, or decay :
Is longer like to be the same. For with a full hand, that does bring
Then smile on me, and I will prove, All that was promis'd by the fpring.
Wonder is shorter-liv'd than love.
By this cunning change of hearts,
So lightnings which in storms appear You the power of love controul;
Scorch more than when the skies are clear, While the boy's deluded darts
And as pale ackness does invade Can arrive at neither soul.
Your frailer part, the breaches made
In that fair lodging, ftill more clear For in vain to either breast
Make the bright guest, your soul, appear.. Still beguil'd Love does come:
So nymphs o'er pathless mountains borne, Where he finds a foreign guest;
Their light robes by the brambles torn Neither of your hearts at home:
From their fair limbs, exposing new Debtors thus with like design,
And unknown beauties to the view. When they never mean to pay,
Of following Gods, increase their flame,
And hafte, co catch the flying game. That they may the law decline,
"To fome friend make all away. Not the Gilver doves that fly, Yok'd in Cythera's car;
UPON THE DEATH OF MY LADY RICB. Not the wings that lift so high; And convey her son so far
AY those already cursid Efexian plains, Are so lovely, sweet, and fair,
reigns, Or do more ennoble love;
Prove all a desart! and none there make fay, Are fo choicely match'd a pair,
But favage beasts, or men as wild as they !
There the fair light, which all our island grac'd,
As that exposed to the boisterous wind.
Ah, cruel heaven! to snatch so foon away
With thousand vows, and tears, we should have Fram'd of many nameless stars !
fought The smooth strcam, where none can say, That fad decree's suspension to have wrought. He this drop to that prefers !
But we, alas, no whisper of her pain
Heard, till 't was fio to wish her bere again. Amoret, my lovely foe!
That horrid word, at once, like lightning spread Tell me where thy ftrength does lie?
Strook all our ears the Lady Rich is dead! Where the power that charms us so?
Heart-rending news! and dreadful to those few In thy foul, or in thy eye?
Who her resemble, and her steps pursue :
That death should licence have to rage among By that snowy neck alone : Or thy grace in motion seen;
The fair, the wise, the virtuous, and the young! No such wonders could be done ;
The * Paphian Queen from that fierce battla Yet thy waist is straight, and clean,
borne, As Cupid's fhaft; or Hermes' rod:
With goarded hand, and veil so rudely torn, And powerful too, as either God.
Like terror did among th' Immortals breed;
All stand amazed ! but beyond the rest
Th't heroic dame whose happy womb fhe bleft,
Mov'd with just grief, expostulates with Heavens
Of longer life : - for ne'er was pious soul
More apt t'obey, niore worthy to controul. Is Heaven beconie our rival too?
A skilful eye at once might read the race Had the rich gifts, confer'd on you
Of Caledonian Monarch's in her face. So amply thence, the common end
And sweet humility; her look and mind Of giving lovers, to pretend?
At once were losty, and at once were kind.
There dwelt the scorn of vice, and pity too, Hence, to this pining sickness (meant To weary thee to a confent
For those that did what the disdain'd to do: Of leaving us) no power is given,
So gentle and severe, that what was bad, Thy beauties to impair: for Heaven
At once her hatred, and her pardon had. Solicits thee with such a care,
Gracious to all; but where her love was due, As roles from the stalks we tear:
So fast, fo faithful, loyal, and so true,, When we would still preserve them new,
That a bold hand as soon might hope to force And fresh, as on the bush they grew.
The rolling lights of heaven,
as change her course With such a grace you entertain,
Some happy Angel, that beholds her there, And look with such contempt on pain,
Instruct us to record what she was here ! That languishing you conquer more,
* Venus. † Christian Countess of Devonshiro And wound us deeper than before.