網頁圖片
PDF
ePub 版

Me bleft for this let no man hold;
For 1, as Midas did of old,
Perish by turning every thing to gold.

What do I feek, alas! or why do I
Attempt in vain from thee to fly?
For making thee my deity,
I gave thee then ubiquity.
My pains refemble hell in this;
The divine presence there too is,

But to torment men, not to give them blifs.

Swiftly his daily journey he goes,
But treads his annual with a statelier pace;
And does three hundred rounds enclofe
Within one yearly circle's space;

At once, with double courfe in the fame fphere,
He runs the day, and walks the year.

When Soul does to myself refer,

'Tis then my life, and does but flowly move; But when it does relate to her,

It fwiftly flies, and then is Love. Love's my diurnal course, divided right 'Twixt hope and fear-my day and night.

ALL-OVER LOVE.

IS well, 'tis well with them, fay I,

"There fhort liv'd paflions with themselves

can die;

For none can be unhappy, who,

'Midft all his ills, a time does know (Though ne'er fo long) when he shall not be fo.

Whatever parts of me remain,
Thofe parts will fill the love of thee retain;
For 'twas not only in my heart,
But, like a God, by powerful art
'Twas all in all, and all in every part.

My' affection no more perish can
Than the first matter that compounds a man.
Hereafter, if one duft of me

Mix'd with another's fubftance be,

'Twill leaven that whole lump with love of thee.

Let Nature, if fhe please, difperfe

My atoms over all the universe:

At the leaft they eafily fhall'
Themselves know, and together call:

For thy love, like a mark, is stamp'd on all.

LOVE AND LIFE.

NOW, fure, within this twelvemonth paft,

l'ave lov'd at leaft fome twenty years or

more:

Th' account of Love runs much more fast Than that with which our life does fcore: So, though my life be short, yet I may prove The great Methufalem of Love.

Not that Love's hours or minutes are
Shorter than those our being's measur'd by ;
But they're more clofe compacted far,
And fo in leffer room do lie:

Thin airy things extend themselves in space,
Things folid take up little place.

Yet Love, alas! and Life, in me,
Are not two feveral things, but purely one;
At once how can there in it be
A double, different motion?

O yes, there may; for fo the felf-fame fun
At once does flow and swiftly run:

ΤΑ

[blocks in formation]

AKE heed, take heed, thou lovely maid, Nor be by glittering ills betray'd: Thyfelf for money! oh, let no man know The price of beauty fall'n fo low!

What dangers ought'it thou not to dread, When love, that's blind, is by blind Fortune led? The foolish Indian, that fells His precious gold for beads and bells, Docs a more wife and gainful traffic hold,

Than thou, who fell'ft thyfelf for gold. What gains in such a bargain are ? He'll in thy mines dig better treasures far.

Can gold, alas! with thee compare? The fun, that makes it, 's not fo fair; The fun, which can nor make nor ever fee A thing fo beautiful as thee,

In all the journeys he does pafs, Though the fea ferv'd him for a looking-glafs. Bold was the wretch that cheapen'd thee; Since Magus, none fo bold as he: Thou'rt fo divine a thing, that thee to buy Is to be counted fimony;

Too dear he'll find his fordid price
Has forfeited that and the Benefice.

If it be lawful thee to buy,
There's none can pay that rate but I;
Nothing on earth a fitting price can be,

But what on carth's most like to thee;
And that my heart does only bear;
For there thy felf, thy very felf is there.

So much thyfelf does in me live
That, when it for thyself I give,
'Tis but to change that piece of gold for this,
Whofe ftamp and value equal is;
And, that full weight too may be had,
My foul and body, two grains more, I'll add.

[blocks in formation]
[ocr errors][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small]

Which makes me of your hand afraid.

Cordial of pity give me now,

For I too weak for purgings grow.

Do but awhile with patience stay

(For counfel yet will do no good) Till time, and reft, and Heaven, allay

The violent burnings of my blood;
For what effect from this can flow,
To chide men drunk, for being fo?
Perhaps the phyfic's good you give,

But ne'er to me can useful prove;
Medicines may cure, but not revive;
And I'm not fick, but dead in love.
In Love's hell, not his world, am I;
At once I live, am dead, and die.
What new-found rhetoric is thine!

Ev'n thy diffuafions me perfuade,
And thy great power does clearest shine,
When thy commands are difobey'd.
In vain thou bid'ft me to forbear;
Obedience were rebellion here.
Thy tongue comes in, as if it meant
Against thine eyes t'affift my heart;
But different far was his intent,

For ftrait the traitor took their part:

And by this new foe I'm bereft
Of all that little which was left.

The act, I must confefs, was wife,
As a dishonest act could be:
Well knew the tongue, alas! your eyes
Would be too ftrong for that and me;
YOL. II.

made;

And part o' th' triumph chofe to get, Rather than be a part of it.

[ocr errors]

RESOLVED TO BE BELOVED.

IS true, l'ave lov'd already three or four,
And fhall three or four hundred more;
I'll love each fair one that I fec,

Till I find one at last that shall love me.
That fhall my Canaan be, the fatal foil

That ends my wanderings and my toil:
I'il fettle there, and happy grow;
The country does with milk and honey flow.'
The needle trembles fo, and turns about,
Till it the northern point find out;
But conftant then and fix'd does prove,
Fix'd, that his dearest pole as foon may move.
Then may my veffel torn and fhipwreck'd be,
If it put forth again to fea!

It never more abroad fhall roam, Though 't could next voyage bring the Indics home.

But I must sweat in love, and labour yet,
Till I a competency get;

They're flothful fools who leave a trade,
Till they a moderate fortune by 't have made.
Variety I ask not; give me one

To live perpetually upon; The perfon Love does to us fit, Like manna, has the taste of all in it.

[blocks in formation]

OR Heaven's fake, what d' you mean to do? Keep me, or let me go, one of the two; Youth and warm hours let me not idly lofe, The little time that Love does chufe: If always here I must not stay, Let me begone whilst yet 'tis day; Left I, faint and benighted, lofe my way.

"Tis difmal, one fo long to love In vain; till to love more as vain must prove; To hunt fo long on nimble prey, till we

Too weary to take others be:
Alas! 'tis folly to remain,

And waste our army thus in vain,
Before a city which will ne'er be ta'en.

At feveral hopes wifely to fly, Ought not to be efteem'd inconftancy; 'Tis more inconstant always to pursue

A thing that always flies from you;
For that at last may meet a bound,
But no end can to this be found,
"Tis nought but a perpetual fruitless round,

When it does hardness meet, and pride,
My love does then rebound t' another fide;

K

But, if it aught that 's foft and yielding hit,
It lodges there, and stays in it.
Whatever 'tis fhall first love me,
That it my heaven may truly be;

I fhall be fure to give 't eternity.

THE DISCOVERY,

Y Heaven, I'll tell her boldly that 'tis fhe;

B'Why should the atham'd or angry be,

To be belov'd by me?

The Gods may give their altars o'er;
They'll fmoak but feldom any more,
If none but happy men must them adore.

The lightning, which tall oaks oppofe in vain,
To ftrike fometimes does not difdain
The humble furzes of the plain,
She being fo high; and I fo low,
Her power by this does greater show,
Who at fuch distance gives fo fure a blow.

Compar'd with her, all things fo worthless prove,
That nought on earth can tow'rds her move,
Till 't be exalted by her love.
Equal to her, alas! there's none;
She like a Deity is grown;

That must create, or elfe must be alone.

If there be man who think himself fo high,

As to pretend equality,

He deferves her lefs than I;

For he would cheat for his relief;
And one would give, with leffer grief,
T'an undeferving beggar than a thiel.

AGAINST FRUITION.

No; thou're a fool, I'll fwear, if c'er thou grant ;

Much of my veneration thou must want,
When once thy kindness puts my ignorance out;
For a learn'd age is always leaft devout.
Keep fill thy distance; for at once to me
Goddess and woman too thou canst not be :
Thou'rt queen of all that fees thee, and as fuch
Muft neither tyrannize nor yield too much;
Such freedoms give as may admit command,
But keep the forts and magazines in hand.
Thou'rt yet a whole world to me, and doft fill
My large ambition; but 'tis dangerous ftill,
Left I like the Pella an prince should be,
And weep for other worlds, having cor quer'd thee:
When Love has taken all thou haft away,
His ftrength by too much riches will decay,
Thou in my fancy doft much higher ftand,
Than women can be plac'd by Nature's hand;
And I must needs, I'm fure, a lofer be,

To change thee, as thou'rt there, for very thee.
Thy fwectnefs is fo much within me plac'd,
That, should'st thou nectar give, 'twould spoil
the taste.

Beauty at first moves wonder and delight;

'Tis Nature's juggling trick to cheat the fight.

We' admire it whilft unknown; but after, more
Admire ourselves for liking it before.

I ove, like a greedy hawk, if we give way,
Does over-gorge himself with his own prey;
Of every hopes a furfeit he'll fuftain,
Unless by fears he caft them up again:
His fpirit and fweetnefs dangers keep alone;
If once he lose his fting, he grows a drone.

S

LOVE UNDISCOVERED.
COME others may with fafety tell

The moderate flames which in them dwell;
And either find fome medicine there,
Or cure themselves ev'n by defpair;
My love's fo great, that it might prove
Dangerous to tell her that I love.

So tender is my wound, it must not bear
Any falute, though of the kindest air.

I would not have her know the pain,
The torments, for her I fuftain;
Left too much goodnefs make her throw
Her love upon a fate too low,

Forbid it, Heaven! my life fhould be

Weigh'd with her leat conveniency: No, let me perifh rather with my grief, Than, to her difadvantage, find relief!

Yet wher. I die, my laft breath fhall Grow bold, and plainly tell her all: Like covetous men, who ne'er defery Their dear bid-treasures till they die. Ah, faireft maid! how will it cheer My ghost, to get from thee a tear! But take heed; for if me thou pitieft then, Twenty to one but I fhall live again.

THE GIVEN HEART.

WONDER what thofe lovers mean, who fay They 'ave given their hearts away: Some good kind lover, tell me how ; For mine is but a torment to me now. If fo it be cnc place both hearts contain, For what do they complain? What courtesy can Love do more, Than to join hearts that parted were before? Woe to her ftubborn heart, if once mine come Into the felf-fame room;

"Twill tear and blow up all within, Like a granado fhot into' a magazine. Then fhall Love keep the afhes and torn parts Of both our broken-hearts;

Shall out of both one new one make,
From her's th' allay, from mine the metal, take.
For of her heart he from the flames will find
But little left behind :

Mine only will remain entire;
No drofs was there, to perish in the fire.

[blocks in formation]

EACH me to love! go teach thyfelf more wit;

TEACH

I chief profeffor am of it.

Teach craft to Scots, and thrift to Jews,
Teach boldness to the stews;

In tyrants' courts teach fupple flattery ;
Teach Jefuits, that have travel'd far, to lye;
Teach fire to burn, and winds to blow,
Teach reftlefs fountains how to flow,
Teach the dull earth fixt to abide,
Teach woman-kind inconftancy and pride:
See if your diligence here will ufeful prove;
But, pr'ythee, teach not me to love.

The God of Love, if fuch a thing there be,
May learn to love from me;

He who does boast that he has been
In every heart fince Adam's fin;
I'll lay my life, nay mistress, on 't, that's more,
I'll teach him things he never knew before;

I'll teach him a receipt, to make
Words that weep, and tears that speak;
I'll teach him fighs, like thofe in death,

At which the fouls go out too with the breath :
Still the foul ftays, yet ftill does from me run,
As light and heat does with the fun.

'tis I
'Tis I who Love's Columbus am;
Who muft new worlds in it defcry;
Rich worlds, that yield of treasure more
Than all that has been known before.
And yet like his, I fear, my fate mult be,
To find them cut for others, not for me.

Me times to come, I know it, fhall'
Love's laft and greatest prophet call;
But, ah! what's that, if the refufe,

To hear the wholefome doctrines of my Mufe;
If to my fhare the prophet's fate must come-
Hereafter fame, here martyrdom?

THE

RESOLUTION.

'HE devil take thofe foolish men

Who gave you first fuch powers; We stood on even grounds till then; If any odds creation made it ours. For fhame, let thefe weak chains be broke; Let's our flight bonds, like Samfon, tear; And nobly caft away that yoke,

Which we nor our forefathers e'er could bear.

French laws forbid the female reign;
Yet Love does them to flavery draw:
Alas! if we'll our rights maintain,
'Tis all mankind must make a Salique law.

[blocks in formation]
[blocks in formation]

G

THE WELCOME.

O, let the fatted calf be kill'd; My prodigal 's come home at last, With noble refolutions fill'd,

And fill'd with forrow for the past:

No more will burn with love or wine; But quite has left his women and his fwine,

Welcome, ah! welcome, my poor heart!

Welcome! I little thought, I'll fwear ('Tis now fo long fince we did part)

Ever again to fee thee here:

Dear wanderer! fince from me you fled, How often have I heard that thou wert dead!

Haft thou not found each woman's breaft
(The lands where thou haft travelled)
Either by favages poffeft,

Or wild and uninhabited?
What joy could't take, or what repose,
In countries fo unciviliz'd as thofe ?

Luft, the fcorching dog-ftar, here
Rages with immoderate heat;
Whilft pride, the rugged Northern bear,
In others makes the coid too great:

And, where thefe are temperate known,
The foil's all barren fand or rocky stone.

When once or twice you chanc'd to view
A rich, well-govern'd heart,

Like China, it admitted you

But to the frontier-part.

From Paradife fhut for evermore,
What good is 't that an angel kept the door?

Well fare the pride, and the difdain,
And vanities, with beauty join'd;

I ne'er had feen this heart again,
If any fair-one had been kind:

My dove, but once let loofe, I doubt
Would ne'er return, had not the flood been out.

THE HEART FLED AGAIN.

FALSE, for would it never leave me more?

ALSE, foolish heart! didst thou not fay,

Behold! again 'tis fled away,

Fled as far from me as before.
I trove to bring it back again;
I cry'd and hollow'd after it in vain.
Ev'n fo the gentle Tyrian dame,

When neit er grief nor love prevail,
Saw the dear object of her flame,

Th' ingratefe Troj, hoift his fail: Aloud the call'd for him to ftay; The wind bore rim and her loft words away. The doleful Ariadne fo

On the wide fhore forfaken ftood: "Falfe Thefeus, whither dost thou go?" Afa falfe Thefeus cut the flood. But Bacchus came to her relief; Bacchus himself 's too weak to ease my grief.

Ah! fenfelef heart, to take no rest,

But travel thus eternally!
Thus to be frozen in every breast!

And to be fcorch'd in every eye! Wandering about like wretched Cain, Thruft-out, ill-us'd, by all, but by none flain!

Well, fince thou wilt not here remain,
I'll e'en to live without thee try;
My head fhall take the greater pain,
And all thy duties shall supply:
I can more eafily live, I know,
Without thee, than without a mistress thou.

WOMEN'S SUPERSTITION.

R I'm a very dunce, or woman-kind Is a most unintelligible thing:

OR

I can no fenfe nor no contexture find,
Nor their loafe parts to method bring:
I know not what the learn'd may see,
But they're ftrauge Hebrew things to me.
By customs and traditions they live,
And foolish ceremonies of antique date;
We lovers, new and better doctrines give,
Yet they continue obftinate:
Preach we, Love's prophets, what we will,
Like Jews, they keep their old law ftill.

Before their mothers' Gods they fondly fall,
Vain idol-gods, that have no fenfe nor mind:

THE SOUL.

COME dull philofopher-when he hears me fay My foul is from me fled away,

Nor has of late inform'd my body here,

But in another's breaft does lie,
That neither is, nor will be, I,
As a form fervient and affifting there-
Will cry,

"Abfurd!" and ask me how I live;
And fyllogifms against it give.
A curfe on all your vain philofophies,
Which on weak Nature's law depend,
And know not how to com rel.ced
Love and Religion, those great mysteries!
Her body is my foul; laugh not at this,
For by my life I fwear it is.
'Tis that preferves my being and my breath;
From that proceeds all that I do,
Nay all my thoughts and speeches too;
And feparation from it is my death.

ЕСНО.

IR'D with the rough denials of my prayer, Trom that hard the whom I obey;

I come, and find a nymph much gentler here, That gives confent to all I fay.

Ah, gentle nymph! who lik ft fo well In hollow, folitary caves to dwell;

Her heart being fuch, into it go,

And do but once from thence answer me fo! Complaifant nymph! who doft thus kindly share In griefs whofe cause thou dost not know; Hadft thou but eyes, as well as tongue and car,

How much compaffion wouldst thou fhow!
Thy flame, whilft living, or a flower,
Was of lefs beauty, and less ravishing power.
Alas! I might as easily

Paint thee to her, as defcribe her to thee.
By repercuffion beams engender fire;

Shapes by reflection fhapes beget;
The voice itself, when stept, does back retire,
And a new voice is made by it.
Thus things by oppofition
The gainers grow; my barren love alone

Does from her ftony breaft rebound,
Producing neither image, fire, nor found.

THE RICH RIVAL.

HEY fay you're angry, and rant mightily,

Honour's their Afhtaroth, and pride their Baal, Because I love the fame as you :

The thundering Baal of woman-kind :
With twenty other devils more,
Which they, as we do them, adore.

But then, like men both covetous and devout,
Their coftly fuperftition loth t' omit-
And yet more loth to iffue monies out,
At their own charge to furnish it-
To thefe expenfive Deities
The hearts of men they facrifice.

Alas! you're very rich, 'tis true; But, pr'ythee, fool! what's that to Love and me? You 'ave land and money, let that ferve; And know you'ave more by that than you deserve. When next I fce my fair-one, fhe fhall know How worthless thou art of her bed; And, wretch! I'll ftrike thee dumb and dead, With noble verse not understood by you.

« 上一頁繼續 »