« ПредишнаНапред »
and those scorching beams to shun, to thy gentle shadow'run. --> If the soul had free; election to dispose of her affection I would not thus long have borne haughty Sacharissa's scorn: but 't is sure some pow'r above, which controls our wills in love! If pot a love, a strong desire to create and spread that fire in my breast, solicits me, beauteous Amoret! for thee.
T is amazement more than love which her radiant
do move: if less splendour wait on thine, yet they so benignly shine, I would turn my dazzled sight to behold their milder light: but as hard 'tis to destroy that high flame as to enjoy ; which how eas'ly I may do, beav'n (as eas’ly scald) does know!.
Amoret! as sweet and good as the most delicious food, which but tasted does impart life and gladness to the heart.
Sacharissa's beauty's wine, which to madness doth incline; such a liquor as no brain that is mortal can sustain.
Scarce can I to Heav'n excuse the devotion which I use ugto that adored dame; for 't is not unļike the same
which I thither ought to send;
to succeed her and not you ; (24. who already have of me
all that's not idolatry';
Then smile on me, and I will prove wonder is shorter-liv'd than love.
TO PHYLLIS. Phyllis! why should we delay pleasures shorter than the day? Could we (which we never can) stretch our lives beyond their span, beauty like a shadow flies, and our youth before us dies. Or would youth and beauty stay, Love hath wings, and will away. Love hath swifter wings'than Time, change in love to Heav'n does climb. Gods, that never change their state, vary
oft their love and hate. Phyllis ! to this truth, we owe all the Love betwixt us two. Let not you and I'enquire what has been our past desire; on what shepherds you have sm ifd : or what nymphs I have beguild : leave it to the planets too what we shall hereafter do ; for the joys we now may prove, take advice of present love.
TO THE MUTABLE FAIR.6. Here, Cælia ! for thy sake I part with all that grew 'so near my heart :the passion that I had for thee, the faith, the love, the constancy ! and, that I may successful prove, transform myself to what you love.
Fool that I was ! so much to prize those simple virtues you despise: fool! that with such dull arrows strove, or hop'd to reach a flying dove: for you, that are in motion still, decline our force, and mock our skill; who, like Don Quixote, do advance against a windmill our vain lance.
Now will I wander through the air, mount, make a stoop at ev'ry fair ; and, with a fancy unconfin'd, (as lawless as the sea or wind,) pursue you wheresoe'er you fly, and with your various thoughts comply. The formal stars do travel so, as we their names and courses know; and he that on their changes looks would think them govern'd by our books; but never were the clouds reduc'd to any art: the motion us'd by those free vapours are so light, so frequent, that the conquer'd sight despairs to find the rules that guide those gilded shadows as they slide ; and therefore of the spacious air Jove's royal consort had the care ; and by that pow'r did once escape,
declining bold Ixion's rape :
Such was that image, so it smild with seeming kindness, wbich beguild. your Thyrsis lately, when he thought it he had his fleeting Cælia caught... 'T was shap'd like her;, but for the fair, he filld bis arms with yielding air.
A fate for which he grieves the less, because the gods had like success : for in their story, onę, we see, pursues a nymph, and takes a tree: a second, with a lover's haste, soon overtakes whom he had chas'd; but she that did a virgin seem, possess’d, appears a wand'ring stream. For his supposed love, a third lays greedy hold upon a bird, and stands amaz'd to find his dear a wild inhabitant of th' air !
To these old tales such nymphs as you give credit, and still make them new; the am'rous now like wonders find in the swift changes of your mind.
But, Cælia, if you apprehend the Muse of your incensed friend, nor would that he record your blame, and make it live, repeat the same; again deceive him, and again, and then he swears he'll not complain : for still to be deluded so is all the pleasure lovers know; who, like good falc'ners, take delight not in the quarry, but the flight,
TO A LADY,
Madam ! intending to have try'd the silver favour wbich you gave, in ink the shining point I dy'd, and drench'd it in the sable wave; when, griev'd to be so foully stain'd, on you it thus to me complain’d. “ Supose you had deserv'd to take from her fair hand so fair a boon, yet how deserved I to make so ill a change, who ever won immortal praise for what I wrote, instructed by her noble thought? I, that expressed her commands to mighty lords and princely dames, always most welcome to their hands, proud that I would record their names, must now be taught an humble style, some meaner beauty to beguile!” Şo I, the wronged pen to please, make it my humble thanks express unto your Ladyship in these : and now 't is forced to confess that your great self did ne'er endite, nor that, to one more noble, write,
SONG. Go, lovely Rose ! tell her that wastes her time and me,
that now she knows, when I resemble her to thee, bow sweet and fair she seems to be.