The populous city holds him, amongst harms
Of some fierce Cyclops, Circe's stronger charms.
These banks, said I, he visit will and streams,
These silent shades ne'er kiss'd by courting beams;
Far, far off I will meet him, and I first
Shall him approaching know, and first be blest
With his aspect; I shall first hear his voice,
Him find the same he parted, and rejoice
To learn his passed perils, know the sports
Of foreign shepherds, fawns, and fairy courts.
No pleasure to the fields; an happy state
The swains enjoy, secure from what they hate:
Free of proud cares they innocently spend
The day, nor do black thoughts their ease offend;
Wise nature's darlings they live in the world,
Perplexing not themselves how it is hurl'd.
These hillocks Phoebus loves, Ceres these plains,
These shades the Sylvans, and here Pales strains
Milk in the pails, the maids which haunt the springs
Dance on these pastures, here Amintas sings;
Hesperian gardens, Tempe's shades are here,
Or what the eastern Ind and west hold dear.
Come then, dear youth, the wood-nymphs twine thee boughs
With rose and lily, to impale thy brows.
Thus ignorant, I mus'd, not conscious yet
Of what by death was done, and ruthless fate:
Amidst these trances, Fame thy loss doth sound,
And through my ears gives to my heart a wound;
With stretched-out arms I sought thee to embrace,
But clasp'd, amaz'd, a coffin in thy place;
A coffin! of our joys which had the trust,
Which told that thou was come, but chang'd in dust.
Scarce, even when felt, could I believe this wreck,
Nor that thy time and glory Heavens would break.
Now since I cannot see my Alcon's face,
And find nor vows nor prayers to have place
With guilty stars, this mountain shall become
To me a sacred altar, and a tomb
To famous Alcon; here, as days, months, years
Do circling glide, I sacrifice will tears,
Here spend my remnant time, exil'd from mirth,
Till death in end turn monarch of my earth."
Shepherds on Forth, and ye by Dovan rocks, Which use to sing and sport, and keep your flocks, Pay tribute here of tears; ye never had
To aggravate your moans a cause more sad;
And to their sorrows hither bring your maunds
Charged with sweetest flowers, and with pure hands,
Fair nymphs, the blushing hyacinth and rose
Spread on the place his relics doth enclose;
Weave garlands to his memory, and put
Over his hearse a verse in cypress cut:
"Virtue did die, goodness but harm did give
After the noble Alcon left to live,
Friendship an earthquake suffer'd; losing him,
Love's brightest constellation turned dim."
Y me, and I am now the man whose muse
In happier times was wont to laugh at love,
And those who suffer'd that blind boy abuse
The noble gifts were given them from above?
What metamorphose strange is this I prove?
Myself now scarce I find myself to be,
And think no fable Circe's tyranny,
And all the tales are told of changed Jove.
Virtue hath taught with her philosophy
My mind unto a better cause to move :
Reason may chide her full, and oft reprove
Affection's power, but what is that to me,
Who ever think, and never think on ought
But that bright cherubim which thralls my thought?
TREES happier far than I,
Which have the grace to heave your heads so high,
And overlook those plains,
Grow till your branches kiss that lofty sky
Which her sweet self contains;
There make her know mine endless love and pains,
And how these tears which from mine eyes do fall,
Help'd you to rise so tall :
Tell her, as once I for her sake lov'd breath,
So for her sake I now court ling'ring death.
SWAN which so sweetly sings
By Aska's banks, and pitifully plains,
That old Meander never heard such strains,
Eternal fame thou to thy country brings:
And now our Caledon
Is by thy songs made a new Helicon;
Her mountains, woods, and springs,
While mountains, woods, springs be, shall sound thy praise;
And though fierce Boreas oft make pale her bays,
And kill those myrtles with enraged breath,
Which should thy brows enwreath,
Her floods have pearls, seas amber do send forth,
Her heaven hath golden stars to crown thy worth.
How comes it, Sleep, that thou
Even kisses me affords
Of her, dear her, so far who 's absent now?
How did I hear those words,
Which rocks might move, and move the pines to bow?
Ay me, before half day
Why didst thou steal away?
Return, I thine for ever will remain,
If thou wilt bring with thee that guest again.
THIS strange eclipse, one says,
Strange wonders doth foretel:
But you whose wives excel,
And love to count their praise,
Shut all your gates, your hedges plant with thorns, The sun did threat the world this time with horns.
A CHAIN OF GOLD.
ARE not those locks of gold
Sufficient chains the wildest hearts to hold?
Is not that ivory hand
A diamantine band,
Most sure to keep the most untamed mind,
But ye must others find?
O yes; why is that golden one the worn
Thus free in chains? Perhaps, love's chains to scorn.
THE bawd of justice, he who laws controll'd,
And made them fawn and frown as he got gold,
That Proteus of our state, whose heart and mouth
Were farther distant than his north from south,
That cormorant, who made himself so gross
On people's ruin, and the prince's loss,
Is gone to hell, and though he here did evil,
He there perchance may prove an honest devil.
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