But, O, my sweet, what labour is 't to leave The thing we have not, mastering what not strives,Paling the place which did no form receive, Playing patient sports in unconstrained gyves? She that her fame so to herself contrives, The scars of battle 'scapeth by the flight,
And makes her absence valiant, not her might
O, pardon me, in tit my boast is true: The accident which brought me to her eye, Upon the moment did her force subdue, And now she would the cagèd cloister fly: Religious love put out religion's eye: Not to be tempted, would she be immured, And now, to tempt all, liberty procured.
"How mighty, then, you are, O, hear me tell! The broken bosoms that to me belong Have emptied all their fountains in my well, And mine I pour your ocean all among:
I strong o'er them, and you o'er me being strong, Must for your victory us all congest,
As compound love to physic your cold breast.
"My parts had power to charm a sacred nun, Who, disciplined and dieted in grace, Believed her eyes when they to assail begun, All vows and consecrations giving place: O most potential love! vow, bond nor space, In thee hath neither sting, knot, nor confine, For thou art all, and all things else are thine.
"When thou impressest, what are precepts worth Of stale example? When thou wilt inflame, How coldly those impedimer.ts stand forth Of wealth, of filial fear, law, kindred, fame! Love's arms are proof 'gain' t rule, 'gainst sense, 'gainst And sweetens, in the suffering pangs it bears, [shame; The aloes of all forces, shocks, and fears.
"Now all these hearts that do on mine depend, Feeling it break, with bleeding groans they pine; And, supplicant, their sighs to you extend, To leave the battery that you make 'gainst mine, Lending soft audiesce to my sweet design, And credent soul to that strong-bonded oath, That shall prefer and undertake my troth.'
"This said, his watery eyes he did dismount, Whose sights till then were levell'd on my faco; Kach cheek a river running from a fount
With brinish current, downward flow'd apace: O, how the channel to the stream gave grace! Who glazed with crystal gate the glowing roses, That flame through water which their hue encloses. 42.
"O father, what a hell of witchcraft lies In the small orb of one particular tear! But with the inundation of the eyes What rocky heart to water will not wear? What breast so cold that is not warmed here? O cleft effect! cold modesty, hot wrath, Both fire from hence and chill extincture hath. 43.
"For, lo, his passion, but an art of craft, Even there resolved my reason into tears; There my white stole of chastity I daff'd, Shook off my sober guards and civil fears; Appear to him, as he to me appears,
All melting; though our drops this difference bora, His poison'd me, and mine did him restore. 44.
"In him a plenitude of subtle matter, Applied to cautels, all strange forms receives, Of burning blushes, or of weeping water,
Or swooning paleness; and he takes and leaves, In either's aptness, as it best deceives, To blush at speeches rank, to weep at woes, Or to turn white and swoon at tragic shows:
"That not a heart which in his level came Could scape the hail of his all-hurting aim, Shewing fair nature is both kind and tame;
And, veil'd in them, would win whom he would maim Against the thing he sought he would exclaim; When he most burn'd in heart-wish'd luxury, He preach'd pure maid, and praised cold chastity. 46.
The naked and concealed fiend he cover'd; "Thus merely with the garment of a Grace That th' unexperient gave the tempter place, Which, like a cherubin, above them hover'd. Who, young and simple, would not be so lover'd! Ah me! I fell; and yet do question make What I should do again for such a sake. 47.
"O, that infected moisture of his eye, O, that false fire which in his cheek so glow'd O, that forced thunder from his heart did fly, O, that sad breath his spongy lungs bestow'd O, all that borrow'd motion, seeming owed, Would yet again betray the fore-betray'd, And new pervert a reconciled maid!"
SWEET Cytherea, sitting by a brook
With young Adonis, lovely, fresh, and green, Did court the lad with many a lovely look,-
Such looks as none could look but beauty's queen. She told him stories to delight his ear; She shew'd him favours to allure his eye;
To win his heart, she touch'd him here and there:
Touches so soft still conquer chastity.
But whether unripe years did want conceit, Or he refused to take her figured proffer, The tender nibbler would not touch the bait,
But smile and jest at every gentle offer:
Then fell she on her back, fair queen, and toward: He rose and ran away; ah, fool too froward!
Scarce had the sun dried up the dewy morn, And scarce the herd gone to the hedge for shade, When Cytherea, all in love forlorn,
A longing tarriance for Adonis made, Under an osier growing by a brook,
A brook where Adon used to cool his spleen:
Hot was the day; she hotter that did look
For his approach, that often there had been. Anon he comes, and throws his mantle by,
And stood stark naked on the brook's green brim: The sun look'd on the world with glorious eye, Yet not so wistly as this queen on him.
He, spying her, bounced in, whereas he stood: "O Jove," quoth she, "why was not I a flood!"
Fair was the morn, when the fair queen of love, * [Line lost.] Paler for sorrow than her milk-white dove, For Adon's sake, a youngster proud and wild; Her stand she takes upon a steep-up hill: Anon Adonis comes with horn and hounds; She, silly queen, with more than love's good will, Forbade the boy he should not pass those grounds: "Once," quoth she, "did I see a fair sweet youth Here in these brakes deep-wounded with a boar, Deep in the thigh, a spectacle of ruth!
See, in my thigh," quoth she, "here was the sore." She shewed hers: he saw more wounds than one, And blushing fled, and left her all alone.
She burn'd with love, as straw with fire flameth; She burn'd out love, as soon as straw out-burneth; She framed the love, and yet she foil'd the framing; She bade love last, and yet she fell a-turning. Was this a lover, or a lecher whether? Bad in the best, though excellent in neither.
If music and sweet poetry agree,
As they must needs, the sister and the brother, Then must the love be great 'twixt thee and me, Because thou lov'st the one, and I the other. Dowland to thee is dear, whose heavenly touch Upon the lute doth ravish human sense; Spenser to me, whose deep onceit is such, As, passing all conceit, needs no defence. Thou lov'st to hear the sweet melodious sound That Phonbus' lute, the queen of music, makes; And I in deep delight am chiefly drown'd, Whenas himself to singing he betakes,
One god is god of both, as poets feign;
One knight loves both, and both in thee remain.
Sweet rose, fair flower, untimely pluck'd, soon faded, Pluck'd in the bud, and faded in the spring! Bright orient pearl, alack, too timely shaded! Fair creature, kill'd too soon by death's sharp sting! Like a green plum that hangs upon a tree, And falls, through wind, before the fall should be.
I weep for thee, and yet no cause I have; For why thou left'st me nothing in thy will: And yet thou left'st me more than I did crave; For why I craved nothing of thee still:
O yes, dear friend, I pardon crave of thee,- Thy discontent thou didst bequeath to me.
Crabbed age and youth Cannot live together. Youth is full of pleasance, Age is full of care; Youth like summer morn, Age like winter weather; Youth like summer brave, Age like winter bare. Youth is full of sport, Age's breath is short;
Youth is nimble, age is lame; Youth is hot and bold,
Age is weak and cold;
Youth is wild, and age is tame.
Age, I do abhor thee,
Youth, I do adore thee;
O, my love, my love is young!
Age, I do defy thee:
O, sweet shepherd, hie thee,
For methinks thou stay'st too long.
Beauty is but a vain and doubtful good; A shining gloss, that fadeth suddenly; A flower that dies, when first it 'gins to bud; A brittle glass, that's broken presently: A doubtful good, a gloss, a glass, a flower, Lost, faded, broken, dead within an hour. And as goods lost are seld or never found, As faded gloss no rubbing will refresh, As flowers dead lie wither'd on the ground, As broken glass no cement can redress,
So beauty, blemish'd once, for ever's lost, In spite of physic, painting, pain, and cost.
Good night, good rest. Ah, neither be my share : She bade good night, that kept my rest away; And daff'd me to a cabin hang'd with care,
To descant on the doubts of my decay.
"Farewell," quoth she, "and come again to-morrow:" Farewell I could not, for I supp'd with sorrow.
Yet at my parting sweetly did she smile, In scorn or friendship, nill I construe whether; 'Tmay be, she joy'd to jest at my exile, "Tmay be, again to make me wander thither:
Wander," a word for shadows like myself,
As take the pain, but cannot pluck the pelf.
Lord, how mine eyes throw gazes to the east! My heart doth charge the watch; the morning rise Doth cite each moving sense from idle rest. Not daring trust the office of mine eyes,
While Philomela sits and sings, I sit and mark, And wish her lays were tunèd like the lark; For she doth welcome daylight with her ditty, And drives away dark dismal-dreaming night: The night so pack'd, I post unto my pretty; Heart hath his hope, and eyes their wished sight;
Sorrow changed to solace, solace mix'd with sorrow; For why she sigh'd, and bade me come to-morrow. Were I with her, the night would post too soon; But now are minutes added to the hours; To spite me now, each minute seems a moon; Yet not for me, shine sun to succour flowers!
Pack night, peep day; good day, of night now borrow: Short, night, to-night, and length thyself to-morrow.
Whenas thine eye hath chose the dame, And stall'd the deer that thou shouldst strike Let reason rule things worthy blame,
As well as fancy, partial like:
Take counsel of some wiser head, Neither too young, nor yet unwed. And when thou com'st thy tale to tell, Smooth not thy tongue with filed talk, Lest she some subtle practice smell; (A cripple soon can find a halt:)
But plainly say thou lov'st her well, And set thy person forth to sell. And to her will frame all thy ways; Spare not to spend,-and chiefly there Where thy desert may merit praise, By ringing in thy lady's ear:
The strongest castle, tower, and town, The golden bullet beats it down. Serve always with assured trust, And in thy suit be humble, true; Unless thy lady prove unjust, Seek never thou to choose anew:
When time shall serve, be thou not slack To proffer, though she put thee back. What though her frowning brows be bent, Her cloudy looks will clear ere night; And then too late she will repent, That she dissembled her delight;
And twice desire, ere it be day, That which with scorn she put away What though she strive to try her strength, And bau and brawl, and say thee nay, Her feeble force will yield at length, When craft hath taught her thus to say.- "Had women been so strong as men, In faith, you had not had it then." The wiles and guiles that women work, Dissembled with an outward show, The tricks and toys that in them lurk, The cock that treads them shall not know. Have you not heard it said full oft, A woman's nay doth stand for naught? Think women love to match with men, And not to live so like a saint: Here is no heaven; they holy then Begin, when age doth them attaint. Were kisses all the joys in bed, One woman would another wed.
But, soft! enough,-too much I fear; For if my mistress hear my song, She will not stick to ring mine ear, To teach my tongue to be so long: Yet will she blush, here be it said, To hear her secrets so bewray'd,
In the merry month of May,
Sitting in a pleasant shade
Which a grove of myrtles made.
Beasts did leap, and birds did sing,
Trees did grow, and plants did spring;
Everything did banish moan,
Save the nightingale alone:
She, poor bird, as all forlorn, Lean'd her breast up-till a thorn, And there sung the dolefull'st ditty, That to hear it was great pity: "Fie, fie, file," now would she cry; "Tereu, Tereu !" by and by ;
That to hear her so complain, Scarce I could from tears refrain; For her griefs, so lively shewn, Made me think upon mine own. Ah, thought I, thou mouru'st in vain! None takes pity on thy pain:
Senseless trees, they cannot hear thee; Ruthless bears, they will not cheer thee: King Pandion, he is dead;
All thy friends are lapp'd in lead; All thy fellow-birds do sing, Careless of thy sorrowing. Even so, poor bird, like thee, None alive will pity me.
Whilst as fickle Fortune smiled, Thou and I were both beguiled. Every one that flatters thee Is no friend in misery.
Words are easy, like the wind; Faithful friends are hard to find:
Every man will be thy friend,
Whilst thou hast wherewith to spend;
But if store of crowns be scant No man will supply thy want If that one be prodigal, Bountiful they will him call, And with such-like flattering, "Pity but he were a king." If he be addict to vice, Quickly him they will entice; If to women he be bent,
They have him at commandèment: But if fortune once do frown, Then farewell his great renown; They that fawn'd on him before, Use his company no more. He that is thy friend indeed, He will help thee in thy need: If thou sorrow, he will weep; If thou wake, he cannot sleep; Thus, of every grief in heart, He with thee does bear a part. These are certain signs to know Faithful friend from flattering foe.
(From the additional poems to CHESTER'S Love's Martyr, or Rosalin's Complaint, 1801.)
LET the bird of loudest lay, On the sole Arabian tree, Herald sad and trumpet be,
To whose sound chaste wings obey.
But thou, shrieking harbinger, Foul pre-currer of the fiend, Augur of the fever's end,
To this troop come thou not near.
From this session interdict Every fowl of tyrant wing, Save the eagle, feather'd king; Keep the obsequy so strict.
Let the priest in surplice white, That defunctive music can, Be the death-divining swan, Lest the requiem lack his right. And thou, treble-dated crow, That thy sable gender mak'st With the breath thou giv'st and tak'st, 'Mongst our mourners shalt thou go. Here the anthem doth commence:- Love and constancy is dead: Phoenix and the turtle fled. In a mutual flame from hence. So they loved, as love in twain Had the essence but in one; Two distincts, division none: Number there in love was slain. Hearts remote, yet not asunder; Distance, and no space was seen "Twixt the turtle and his queen: But in them it were a wonder. So between them love did shine, That the turtle saw his right Flaming in the phoenix's sight; Either was the other's mine.
Property was thus appall'd, That the self was not the same; Single nature's double name Neither two nor one was call'd. Reason, in itself confounded, Saw divisiou grow together, To themselves yet either-neither, Simple were so well compounded; That it cried, How true a twaid Seemeth this concordant one! Love hath reason, reason none, If what parts can so remain. Whereupon it made this threne To the phoenix and the dove, Co-supremes and stars of love, As chorus to their tragic scene.
Beauty, truth, and rarity, Grace in all simplicity, Here enclosed in cinders lie. Death is now the phoenix's nest ; And the turtle's loyal breast To eternity doth rest, Leaving no posterity:- 'Twas not their infirmity, It was married chastity.
Truth may seem, but cannot be; Beauty brag, but 'tis not she; Truth and beauty buried be.
To this urn let those repair That are either true or fair;
For these dead birds sigh a prayœ.
Bedlam, a madman. Beguile, cheat.
Beg us, to beg the wardsp of us. Behave, govern.
Beholden, indebted.
Belongings, endowments
Bemoiled, bemired.
Bend, incline.:
Benison, blessing.
Bent, arch, exertion.
Argument, subject, conversation, Ben venuto, welcome.
Arras, tapestry.
Art, theory.
Articulated, shewn in articles.
Artificial, ingenious. Aspect, countenance.
Aspersion, sprinkling.
Assinego, ass.
Assurance, a deed.
Assured, affianced.
Astonished, stunned. Astringer, falconer.
Ate, the goddess of discord. Atone, reconcile. Attach, arrest. Attask, reprehend. Attorney, deputation. Aunts, loose women. Aves, salutations.
Awful, lawful, reverend Awkward, adverse. Aye, ever.
Baccare, stand back.
Baffled, overreached. Bale, ruin.
Balk, to pile.
Balm, oil of consecration.
Banbury cheese, nothing but paring Bund, bond.
Bandy, drive smartly. Bane, poison.
Bans, curses.
Barbason, the name of a fiend. Barful, full of obstacles.
Barm, yeast. Barne, a child
Base, a challenge, a rustic game called prison-base, dishonoured. Bases, armour for the legs.
Basilico, a character in an old drama. Basilisks, heavy artillery. Basta, 'tis enough.
Bate, flutter, contention. Batlet, a clothes-beater
Ancient, a standard, a standard- Batten, to feed fat.
Angel, a gold coin.
Anthropophaginian, a cannibal.
Antic, the fool of the old drama. Antres, caverns. Apparent, next. Appay, to please. Appeal, accusation.
Applejohn, a two-year-old apple. Appointment, preparation. Apprehension, opinion.
Approbation, probation, proving. Approve, substantiate, authenticate.
Bavin, brushwood. Bawcock, jolly fellow. Bay-windows, bow-windows. Bearing, demeanour, manner. Bearing-cloth, the mantle in which a child is carried to be baptized. Bear in hand, to delude.
Bearns, children.
Beat, flutter.
Beaver, helmet.
Beck, call, command.
Bed of Ware, a bed which held forty persons.
Bermoothes, Bermudas.
Beshrew, ill betide.
Besmirch, discolour, stain. Bested, plight.
Bestowed, deposited.
Bestraight, distracted.
Beteem, bestow, suffer.
Bevel, crooked.
Bewray, discover.
Bezonian, shabby fellow.
Bid, invited.
Biggin, a cap.
Bilberry, whortleberry.
Bilbo, from Bilboa, renowned for its
Blent, mixed together.
Blind-worms, slow-worms.
Blistered, puffed.
Block, shape, or fashion of a hat.
Blood, impulse, disposition, passion Bloodless, inactive.
Blossoms, the flower of the nobility Blue-bottle rogue, beadle. Blue caps, Scotsmen. Blow, puff. Board, accost.
Bobb, to fish, to trick.
Bodged, bungled.
Bolins, bowlines. Bolt, a short arrow. Bolter, to besmear.
Bolting-hutch, receptacle in which flour is separated from bran. Bombast, the padding of clothes. Bond, duty.
Boot, profit, something more, refusal Bootless, useless.
Boots, a rustic sportive punishment.
« 上一頁繼續 » |