Part 7 (1/2)
_Spir._ Virgin, daughter of Locrine, Sprung of old Anchises' line, May thy brimmed waves for this Their full tribute never miss 925 From a thousand petty rills, That tumble down the snowy hills: Summer drouth or singed air Never scorch thy tresses fair, Nor wet October's torrent flood 930 Thy molten crystal fill with mud; May thy billows roll ash.o.r.e The beryl and the golden ore; May thy lofty head be crowned With many a tower and terrace round, 935 And here and there thy banks upon With groves of myrrh and cinnamon.
Come, Lady; while Heaven lends us grace, Let us fly this cursed place, Lest the sorcerer us entice 940 With some other new device.
Not a waste or needless sound Till we come to holier ground.
I shall be your faithful guide Through this gloomy covert wide; 945 And not many furlongs thence Is your Father's residence, Where this night are met in state Many a friend to gratulate His wished presence, and beside 950 All the swains that there abide With jigs and rural dance resort.
We shall catch them at their sport, And our sudden coming there Will double all their mirth and cheer. 955 Come, let us haste; the stars grow high, But Night sits monarch yet in the mid sky.
The Scene changes, presenting Ludlow Town, and the President's Castle: then come the Country Dancers; after them the Attendant Spirit, with the Two Brothers and the Lady.
_Song._
_Spir._ Back, shepherds, back! Enough your play Till next sun-s.h.i.+ne holiday.
Here be, without duck or nod, 960 Other trippings to be trod Of lighter toes, and such court guise As Mercury did first devise With the mincing Dryades On the lawns and on the leas. 965
This second Song presents them to their Father and Mother.
n.o.ble Lord and Lady bright, I have brought ye new delight.
Here behold so goodly grown Three fair branches of your own.
Heaven hath timely tried their youth, 970 Their faith, their patience, and their truth, And sent them here through hard a.s.says With a crown of deathless praise, To triumph in victorious dance O'er sensual folly and intemperance. 975
The dances ended, the Spirit epiloguizes.
_Spir._ To the ocean now I fly, And those happy climes that lie Where day never shuts his eye, Up in the broad fields of the sky.
There I suck the liquid air, 980 All amidst the gardens fair Of Hesperus, and his daughters three That sing about the golden tree.
Along the crisped shades and bowers Revels the spruce and jocund Spring; 985 The Graces and the rosy-bosomed Hours Thither all their bounties bring.
There eternal Summer dwells, And west winds with musky wing About the cedarn alleys fling 990 Nard and ca.s.sia's balmy smells.
Iris there with humid bow Waters the odorous banks, that blow Flowers of more mingled hue Than her purfled scarf can shew, 995 And drenches with Elysian dew (List, mortals, if your ears be true) Beds of hyacinth and roses, Where young Adonis oft reposes, Waxing well of his deep wound, 1000 In slumbers soft, and on the ground Sadly sits the a.s.syrian queen.
But far above, in spangled sheen, Celestial Cupid, her famed son, advanced Holds his dear Psyche, sweet entranced 1005 After her wandering labors long, Till free consent the G.o.ds among Make her his eternal bride, And from her fair unspotted side Two blissful twins are to be born, 1010 Youth and Joy; so Jove hath sworn.
But now my task is smoothly done: I can fly, or I can run Quickly to the green earth's end, Where the bowed welkin slow doth bend, 1015 And from thence can soar as soon To the corners of the moon.
Mortals, that would follow me, Love Virtue; she alone is free.
She can teach ye how to climb 1020 Higher than the sphery chime; Or, if Virtue feeble were, Heaven itself would stoop to her.
LYCIDAS.
In this Monody the Author bewails a learned Friend, unfortunately drowned in his pa.s.sage from Chester on the Irish Seas, 1637; and, by occasion, foretells the ruin of our corrupted Clergy, then in their height.
Yet once more, O ye laurels, and once more, Ye myrtles brown, with ivy never sere, I come to pluck your berries harsh and crude, And with forced fingers rude Shatter your leaves before the mellowing year. 5 Bitter constraint and sad occasion dear Compels me to disturb your season due; For Lycidas is dead, dead ere his prime, Young Lycidas, and hath not left his peer.
Who would not sing for Lycidas? he knew 10 Himself to sing, and build the lofty rhyme.
He must not float upon his watery bier Unwept, and welter to the parching wind, Without the meed of some melodious tear.
Begin, then, Sisters of the sacred well 15 That from beneath the seat of Jove doth spring; Begin, and somewhat loudly sweep the string.
Hence with denial vain and coy excuse: So may some gentle Muse With lucky words favor _my_ destined urn, 20 And as he pa.s.ses turn, And bid fair peace be to my sable shroud!
For we were nursed upon the self-same hill, Fed the same flock, by fountain, shade, and rill; Together both, ere the high lawns appeared 25 Under the opening eyelids of the Morn, We drove a-field, and both together heard What time the gray-fly winds her sultry horn, Battening our flocks with the fresh dews of night, Oft till the star that rose at evening bright 30 Toward heaven's descent had sloped his westering wheel.
Meanwhile the rural ditties were not mute; Tempered to the oaten flute Rough Satyrs danced, and Fauns with cloven heel From the glad sound would not be absent long; 35 And old Damoetas loved to hear our song.
But, oh! the heavy change, now thou art gone, Now thou art gone and never must return!
Thee, Shepherd, thee the woods and desert caves, With wild thyme and the gadding vine o'ergrown, 40 And all their echoes, mourn.
The willows, and the hazel copses green, Shall now no more be seen Fanning their joyous leaves to thy soft lays.
As killing as the canker to the rose, 45 Or taint-worm to the weanling herds that graze, Or frost to flowers, that their gay wardrobe wear, When first the white-thorn blows; Such Lycidas, thy loss to shepherd's ear.
Where were ye, Nymphs, when the remorseless deep 50 Closed o'er the head of your loved Lycidas?