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Due to reasonable creatures, Liken'st us to fell chimeras, Monsters that, who see us, fear us; Worse than Cerberus or Geryon, Or, who first lov'd a cloud, Ixion.
Ha: Vez Her Арс Sig
Bacchus we know, and we allow His tipsy rites. But what art thou, That but by reflex can'st shew What his deity can do, As the false Egyptian spell Aped the true Hebrew miracle? Some few vapours thou may'st raise, The weak brain may serve to amaze, But to the reins and nobler heart Can'st nor life nor heat impart.
Call her Cockatrice and Siren,
Or, as men, constrain'd to part
E Th Sco The Na
Brother of Bacchus, later born, The old world was sure forlorn, Wanting thee, that aidest more The god's victories than before All his panthers, and the brawls Of his piping Bacchanals. These, as stale, we disallow, Or judge of thee meant: only thou His true Indian conquest art; And, for ivy round his dart, The reformed god now weaves A finer thyrsus of thy leaves.
For I must (nor let it grieve thee,
Scent to match thy rich perfume
Stinking'st of the stinking kind,
Nay, rather, Plant divine, of rarest virtue; Blisters on the tongue would hurt you. 'Twas but in a sort I blam'd thee; None e'er prosper'd who defam'd thee; Irony all, and feign'd abuse, Such as perplext lovers use, At a need, when, in despair To paint forth their fairest fair, Or in part but to express That exceeding comeliness Which their fancies doth so strike, They borrow language of dislike; And, instead of Dearest Miss, Jewel, Honey, Sweetheart, Bliss, And those forms of old admiring,
TO T. L. H. Model of thy parent dear, Serious infant worth a fear: In thy unfaultering visage well Picturing forth the son of Tell, When on his forehead, firm and good, Motionless mark, the apple stood; Guileless traitor, rebel mild, Convict unconscious, culprit-child! Gates that close with iron roar Have been to thee thy nursery door;
Chains that chink in cheerless cells
This saintly lady Abbess hath made me justly fear, Have been thy rattles and thy bells;
It nothing will avail me that I were worshipp'd Walls contrived for giant sin
here." Have hemmed thy faultless weakness in; Near thy sinless bed black guilt
LINES Her discordant house hath built,
ON THE SAME PICTURE BEING REMOVED TO MAKE And filled it with her monstrous brood
PLACE FOR A PORTRAIT OF A LADY BY TITIAN, Sights, by thee not understood
Who art thou, fair one, who usurp'st the place Sights of fear, and of distress,
Of Blanch, the lady of the matchless grace?
Come fair and pretty, tell to me,
Who, in thy life-time, thou might'st be.
Thou pretty art and fair,
But with the lady Blanch thou never must compare.
No need for Blanch her history to tell; That yields thee up to Nature's power.
Whoever saw her face, they there did read it well. Nature, that so late doth greet thee,
But when I look on thee, I only know
There lived a pretty maid some hundred years ago.
ON THE CELEBRATED PICTURE BY LIONARDO DA Of health and pastime. Birds shall sing
VINCI, CALLED THE VIRGIN OF TAE ROCKS. For thy delight each May morning. 'Mid new-yean'd lambkins thou shalt play,
While young John runs to greet Hardly less a lamb than they.
The greater infant's feet, Then thy prison's lengthened bound
The mother standing by, with trembling passion
Of devout admiration, Shall be the horizon skirting round.
[ration; And, while thou fillest thy lap with flowers,
Beholds the engaging mystic play, and pretty adoTo make amends for wintery hours,
Nor knows as yet the full event The breeze, the sunshine, and the place,
Of those so low beginnings, Shall from thy tender brow efface
From whence we date our winnings, Each vestige of untimely care,
But wonders at the intent (worship meant. That sour restraint had graven there;
Of those new rites, and what that strange childAnd on thy every look impress
But at her side A more excelling childishness.
An angel doth abide,
With such a perfect joy
As no dim doubts alloy,
Of blind humanity,
As if he surely knew
Or he had lately left the upper sphere, [dles there.
And had read all the sovran schemes and divine ridTo the Urs’line convent hastens, and long the abbess hears.
SONNETS. “O Blanch, my child, repent ye of the courtly life Blanch looked on a rose-bud and little seem'd to
TO MISS KELLY. heed.
[thought She looked on the rose-bud, she looked round, and You are not, Kelly, of the common strain, On all her heart had whisper'd, and all the Nun That stoop their pride and female honor down had taught.
[my fame, To please that many-headed beast the town, “ I am worshipped by lovers, and brightly shines And vend their lavish smiles and tricks for gain; All Christendom resoundeth the noble Blanch's By fortune thrown amid the actors' train,
(the tree, You keep your native dignity of thought; Nor shall I quickly wither like the rose-bud from The plaudits that attend you come unsought, My queen-like graces shining when my beauty's As tributes due unto your natural vein. gone from me.
[head, Your tears have passion in them, and a grace But when the sculptur'd marble is raised o’er my Of genuine freshness, which our hearts avow; And the matchless Blanch lies lifeless among the Your smiles are winds whose ways we cannot trace,
That yanish and return we know not how
BUGGESTED BY A PICTURE OF TWO FEMALES BY
LIONARDO DA VINCI.
And please the better from a pensive face,
A timid grace sits trembling in her eye,
As loth to meet the rudeness of men's sight,
That, Yet shedding a delicious lunar light,
Scatter ON THE SIGHT OF SWANS IN KENSINGTON GARDEN. That steeps in kind oblivious ecstasy
Like tc Queen-bird that sittest on thy shining nest,
The care-crazed mind, like some still melody:
On mic And thy young cygnets without sorrow hatchest, Speaking most plain the thoughts which do posses
And be And thou, thou other royal bird, that watchest Her gentle sprite: peace, and meek quietnes, Lest the white mother wandering feet molest:
And innocent loves, and maiden purity: Shrined are your offspring in a chrystal cradle,
A look whereof might heal the cruel smart
Light! Brighter than Helen's ere she yet had burst
Of changed friends, or fortune's wrongs unkind;
Urbon Her shelly prison. They shall be born at first Might to sweet deeds of mercy move the heart
Erent Strong, active, graceful, perfect, swan-like, able
Of him who hates his brethren of mankind.
To be To tread the land or waters with security.
Turned are those lights from me, who fondly yet Unlike poor human births, conceived in sin,
Past joys, vain loves, and buried hopes regret. In grief brought forth, both outwardly and in
Wewe Confessing weakness, error, and impurity.
If from my lips some angry accents fell, Did heavenly creatures own succession's line,
Peevish complaint, or harsh reproof unkind,
And i The births of heaven like to your's would shine
'Twas but the error of a sickly mind
And troubled thoughts, clouding the purer well, Was it some sweet device of faery
And waters clear, of reason; and for me That mocked my steps with many a lonely glade, Let this my verse the poor atonement be
Tleft And fancied wanderings with a fair-hair'd maid? My verse, which thou to praise wert ever inclined Have these things been? or what rare witchery,
Too highly, and with a partial eye to see Impregning with delights the charmed air,
No blemish. Thou to me didst ever shew Enlighted up the semblance of a smile
Kindest affection; and would oft-times lend In those fine eyes? methought they spake the while
And I An ear to the desponding love-sick lay,
Belos Soft soothing things, which might enforce despair
Weeping my sorrows with me, who repay
law! To drop the murdering knife, and let go by But ill the mighty debt of love I owe,
That His foul resolve. And does the lonely glade
Mary, to thee, my sister and my friend.
What reason first imposed thee, gentle name,
Name that my father bore, and his sire's sire, Methinks how dainty sweet it were, reclin'd
Without reproach? we trace our stream no higher;
And Beneath the vast out-stretching branches high And I, a childless man, may end the same.
Save Of some old wood, in careless sort to lie,
Perchance some shepherd on Lincolnian plains,
The Nor of the busier scenes we left behind
In manners guileless as his own sweet flocks,
The Aught envying. And, O Anna! mild-eyed maid! Received thee first amid the merry mocks
For Beloved! I were well content to play
And arch allusions of his fellow swains.
Well With thy free tresses all a summer's day,
Perchance from Salem's holier fields returned, Losing the time beneath the greenwood shade.
With glory gotten on the heads abhorr'd
Scor Or we might sit and tell some tender tale Of faithful vows repaid by cruel scorn,
Of faithless Saracens, some martial lord A tale of true love, or of friend forgot ;
Took his meek title, in whose zeal he burnd.
Her And I would teach thee, lady, how to rail
Whate'er the fount whence thy beginnings came, In gentle sort, on those who practise not
No deed of mine shall shame thee, gentle name. And
Del Or love or pity, though of woman born.
TO JOHN LAMB, ESQ. OF THE SOUTH-SEA-HOUS). When last I roved these winding wood-walksgreen,
An Green winding walks, and shady pathways sweet,
John, you were figuring in the gay career
An Oft times would Anna seek the silent scene,
Of blooming manhood with a young man’s joy,
Or Shrouding her beauties in the lone retreat.
When I was yet a little peevish boy-,
Of No more I hear her footsteps in the shade:
Though time has made the difference disappear
Re Her image only in these pleasant ways
Betwixt our ages, which then seemed so greit
Of Meets me self-wandering, where in happier days
And still by rightful custom you retain
Much of the old authoritative strain, I held free converse with the fair-hair'd maid.
Р. I passed the little cottage which she loved,
And keep the elder brother up in state.
08 The cottage which did once my all contain;
0! you do well in this. 'Tis man's worst deed
St It spake of days which ne'er must come again,
To let the "things that have been" run to waste,
BE Spake to my heart, and much my heart was moved. And in the unmeaning present sink the past:
T “Now fair befall thee, gentle maid !" said I,
In whose dim glass even now I faintly read
Old buried forms, and faces long ago,
THE FAMILY NAME.
mambo hayo 0! I could laugh to hear the midnight wind, She served her heavenly master. I have seen donne ig: That, rushing on its way with careless sweep, That reverend form bent down with age and pain, care Scatters the ocean waves. And I could weep And rankling malady. Yet not for this L. Like to a child. For now to my raised mind Ceased she to praise her Maker, or withdrew c. die mens. On wings of winds comes wild-eyed Phantasy, Her trust in him, her faith, and humble hope And her rude visions give severe delight.
So meekly had she learn’d to bear her cross-
For she had studied patience in the school
Of Christ, much comfort she had thence derived, tie de mes Lightly of that drear hour the memory,
And was a follower of the Nazarene.
COMPOSED AT MIDNIGHT.
From broken visions of perturbed rest
How total a privation of all sounds,
Of the mechanic watchman, or the noise
Who lies in the upper chamber; restless moans,
And interrupted only by a cough
Consumptive, torturing the wasted lungs.
And hid in deepest shades her awful head. And waits in anguish for the morning's light.
Beloved, who shall tell me where thou artCh me:
What can that do for him, or what restore?
Short taste, faint sense, affecting notices,
Of health, and active life-health not yet slain,
Nor the other grace of life, a good name, sold
For sin's black wages. On his tedious bed
He writhes, and turns him from the accusing light,
And finds no comfort in the sun, but says
“ When night comes I shall get a little rest." (end. Save by a slender-tapering length of spire,
Some few groans more, death comes, and there an The Grandame sleeps. A plain stone barely tells
'Tis darkness and conjecture all beyond; The name and date to the chance passenger.
Weak nature fears, though charity must hope, For lowly born was she, and long had eat
And fancy, most licentious on such themes Well-earned the bread of service :-her's was else Where decent reverence well had kept her mute, Erborister A mounting spirit, one that entertained
Hath o'er-stock'd hell with devils, and brought Scorn of base action, deed dishonorable,
By her enormous fablings and mad lies,
(down, Or aught unseemly. I remember well
Discredit on the gospel's serious truths
And salutary fears. The man of parts,
A heaven of gold, where he, and such as he,
Their heads encompassed with crowns, their heels And wondrous skilled in genealogies,
With fine wings garlanded, shall tread the stars And could in apt and voluble terms discourse
Beneath their feet, heaven's pavement, far removed Of births, of titles, and alliances;
From damned spirits, and the torturing cries Of marriages, and intermarriages;
Of men, his breth'ren, fashioned of the earth, Relationship remote, or near of kin;
As he was, nourish'd with the self-same bread,
Belike bis kindred or companions once-
In chains and savage torments to repent
Short years of folly on earth. Their groans unheard
In heav'n, the saint nor pity feels, nor care,
For those thus sentenced-pity might disturb
The delicate sense and most divine repose
Of spirits angelical. Blessed be God,
The measure of his judgments is not fixed
By man's erroneous standard. He discerns Sure grief hath set his sacred impress here,
To claim the world's respect! they note so feelingly
By outward types the serious man within.-
In all the decencies of virtuous sorrow,
This black attire, abstraction from society,
A cleaying sadness native to the brow,
(That steal away the sense of loss almost)
Which enemies themselves do for us then,
(Pauses, and observes the pictures.) Simon. Simply, all things that live,
These pictures must be taken down:
To hear Sir Walter, with an old man's pride,
And pointing to the pictures where they hung,
And Anne the handsome, Stephen, and famous
John: In the water, where he drinks.
Telling me, I must be his famous John.) Margaret. I myself love all these things, yet so But that was in old times. as with a difference:--for example, some animals Now, no more better than others, some men rather than other men; Must I grow proud upon our house's pride. the nightingale before the cuckoo, the swift and I rather, I, by most unheard of crimes, graceful palfrey before the slow and asinine mule. Have backward tainted all their noble blood, Your humour goes to confound all qualities. Rased out the memory of an ancient family, What sports do you use in the forest :
And quite revers’d the honors of our house. Simon. Not many; some few, as thus:
Who now shall sit and tell us anecdotes? To see the sun to bed, and to arise,
The secret history of his own times,
And fashions of the world when he was young:
And beauties of the court of James the First.
Margaret enters. Sometimes outstretcht, in very idleness,
John. Comes Margaret here to witness my disNought doing, saying little, thinking less,
grace? To view the leaves, thin dancers upon air,
O, lady, I have suffer'd loss,
You bring some images of old times, Margaret,
That should be now forgotten. And how the woods berries, and worms provide
Margaret. Old times should never be forgotten,
I came to talk about them with my friend.
John. I did refuse you, Margaret, in my pride. Like bashful younkers in society.
Margaret. If John rejected Margaret in his pride, To mark the structure of a plant or tree,
(As who does not, being splenetic, refuse And all fair things of earth, how fair they be.
Sometimes old play-fellows,) the spleen being gole,
O Woodvil, those were happy days,
When we two first began to love. When first,
Under pretence of visiting my father,
THE MOURNER VISITED.