With numbers he the flying nymph pursues ;
With numbers, such as Phæbus' self might use!

Such is the chase, when Love and Fancy leads,
O'er craggy mountains, and through flowery meads;
Invok'd to testify the lover's care,

Fair fellow-seryant ! may your gentle ear
Or form some image of his cruel fair.

Prove more propitious to my slighted care, Urg'd with his fury, like a wounded deer,

Than the bright dame's we serve: for her relief O'er these he fled; and now approaching near, (Vex'd with the long expressions of my grief) Had reach'd the nymph with his harmonious lay, Receive these plaints: nor will her high disdain Whom all his charms could not incline to stay. Forbid my humble muse to court her train. Yet, what he sung in his immortal strain,

So, in those nations which the sun adore, Though unsuccessful, was not sung in vain : Some modest Persian, or some weak-ey'd Moor, All, but the nymph that should redress his wrong, No higher dares advance his dazzled sight, Attend his passion, and approve his song.

Than to some gilded cloud, which near the light
Like Phoebus thus, acquiring unsought praise, Of their ascending God adorns the east,
He catch'd at love, and fill'd his arms with bays. And, graced with his beams, out-shines the rest.

Thy skilful hand contributes to our woe,

And whets those arrows which confound us so;

A thousand Cupids in those curls do sit, ARCADIÆ juvenis Thyrsis, Phæbique sacerdos,

(Those curious nets !) thy slender fingers knit: Ingenti frustra Sacharissæ ardebat amore.

The graces put not more exactly on Haud Deus ipse olim Daphni majora canebat;

Th' attire of Venus, when the ball she won : Nec fuit asperior Daphne, nec pulchrior illâ :

Than Sacharissa by thy care is drest, Carminibus Phæbo dignis premit ille fugacem

When all our youth prefers her to the rest. Per rupes, per saxa, volans per florida vates

You the soft season know, when best her mind Pascua: formosam nunc his componere nympham,

May be to pity or to love inclind : Nunc illis crudelem insanâ mente solebat.

In some well-chosen hour supply his fear, Audist illa procul miserum, cytharamque sonantem; Whose hopeless love durst never tempt the ear Audiit, at nullis respexit mota querelis !

Of that stern goddess : you, her priest, declare Ne tamen omnino caneret desertus, ad alta

What offerings may propitiate the fair : Sidera perculsi referunt nova carmina montes.

Rich orient pearl, bright stones that ne'er decay, Sic, non quæsitis cumulatus laudibus, olim

Or polish'd lines, which longer last than they, Elapsâ reperit Daphne sua laurea Phæbus.

For if I thought she took delight in those,
To where the cheerful morn does first disclose,
(The shady night removing with her beams)

Wing'd with bold love, I'd fly to fetch such gems.

But since her eyes, her teeth, her lip excels

All that is found in mines, or fishes' shells; Say, lovely dream! where couldst thou find Her nobler part as far exceeding these, Shades to counterfeit that face?

None but immortal gifts her mind should please. Colours of this glorious kind

The shining jewels Greece and Troy bestow'd Come not from any mortal place.

On Sparta's Queen", her lovely neck did load,

And snowy wrists: but when the town was burn'd, In heaven itself thou sure wert drest

Those fading glories were to ashes turn'd: With that angel-like disguise:

Her beauty too had perish'd, and her fame, Thus deluded am I blest,

Had not the muse redeem'd them from the fame. And see my joy with closed eyes. But ah ! this image is too kind To be other than a dream :

AT PENS-HURST. Cruel Sacharissa's mind

While in the park 1 sing, the listening deer Never put on that sweet extreme!

Attend my passion, and forget to fear: Pair Dream ! if thou intend'st me grace.,

When to the beeches I report my flame, Change that heavenly face of thine;

They bow their heads, as if they felt the same: Paint despis'd love in thy face,

To gods appealing, when I reach their bowers And make it to appear like mine.

With loud complaints, they answer me in showers.

To thee a wild and cruel soul is given, Pale, wan, and meagre, let it look,

More deaf than trees, and prouder than the heaven With a pity-moving shape;

Love's foe profess'd! why dost thou falsely feign Such as wander by the brook

Thyself a Sidney? from which noble strain Of Lethe, or from graves escape.

He 7 sprung, that could so far exalt the name Then to that matchless nymph appear,

Of Love, and warm our nation with his flame;

That all we can of love or high desire,
In whose shape thou shinest so;
Softly in her sleeping ear,

Seems but the smoke of amorous Sdney's fire. With humble words express my woe.

Nor call her mother, who so well does prove

One breast may hold both chastity and love. Perhaps from greatness, state, and pride,

Never can she, that so exceeds the spring
Thus surprised, she may fall:

In joy and bounty, be suppos'd to bring
Sleep does disproportion hide,
And, death resembling, equals all.

6 llelen. ? Sir Philip Sidney.


One so destructive: to no human stock

If sweet Amoret complains,
Heose this fierce unkindness; but the rock, I have sense of all her pains :
That closen rock produc'd thee, by whose side But for Sacharissa I
Nature, to recompense the fatal pride

Do not only grieve, but die.
Of such stem beauty, plac'd those healing springs 8; All that of myself is mine,
Which not more help, than that destruction brings. Lovely Amoret! is thine,
Thy heart, po ruder than the rugged stone,

Sacharissa's captive fain
I migdt, like Orpheus, with my numerous moan Would untie his iron chain;
Melt to compassion: now, my traiterous song And, those scorching beams to shun,
With the conspires, to do the singer wrong; To thy gentle shadow run.
While thus I suffer not myself to lose

If the soul had free election
The nemory of what augments my woes;

To dispose of her affection;
Bet rth my own breath still foment the fire, I would not thus long have borne
Which flames as high as fancy can aspire ! Haughty Sacharissa's scorn:
This last complaint th' indulgent ears did pierce But 'tis sure some power above,
Of just Apollo, president of verse;

Which controls our wills in love!
Hghly concerned that the muse should bring If not a love, a strong desire
Danage to one, whom he had taught to sing ; To create and spread that fire
Thir be advis’d me: “ On yon aged tree

In my breast, solicits me, Hang up thy late, and hie thee to the sea ;

Beauteous Amoret! for thee.
That there with wonders thy diverted mind

'Tis amazement more than love,
Some truce at least may with this passion find.” Which her radiant eyes do move:
Ah, cruel nymph! from whom her humble swain If less splendour wait on thine,
Fees for relief unto the raging main;

Yet they so benignly shine,
And from the winds and tempests does expect I would tur my dazzled sight
A milder fate, than from her cold neglect ! To behold their milder light.
Yet there he'll pray, that the unkind may prove But as hard 'tis to destroy
Blest in her choice, and vows this endless love That high flame, as to enjoy:
Sproz from no hope of what she can confer, Which how eas'ly I may do,
But from these gifts which Heaven has heap'd on her. Heaven (as eas'ly scal'd) 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 inclines Why carne I so untimely forth

Such a liquor, as no brain into a world, which, wanting thee,

That is mortal can sustain. Could entertain us with no worth,

Scarce can I to Heaven excuse Or shadow of felicity ?

The devotion, which I use That time should me so far remove

Unto that adored dame: From that shich I was born to love!

For 'tis not unlike the same, Yet, fairest blossom! do not slight

Which I thither ought to send. That age which you may know so soon :

So that if it could take end, The rosy morn resigns her light,

'Twould to Heaven itself be due, And milder glory, to the noon:

To succeed her, and not you: And then what wonders shall you do,

Who already have of me

All that's not idolatry: Whose dawning beauty warms us so?

Which, though not so fierce a flame, Hope waits upon the flowery prime;

Is longer like to be the same. And summer, though it be less gay,

Then smile on me, and I will prove
Yet is not look'd on as a time

Wonder is shorter-liv'd than love.
Of declination, or decay:
For, with a full hand, that does bring
All that was promis'd by the spring.



TELL me, lovely loving pair!

Why so kind, and so severe ?
Faze! that you may truly know,

Why so careless of our care, What you unto Thyrsis owe;

Only to yourselves so dear? Twill tell you how I do

By this cunning change of hearts, Sacharissa love, and you.

You the power of Love control; Jos salutes me, when I set

While the boy's deluded darts Mr blest eyes on Amoret:

Can arrive at neither soul. Bat with wonder I am strook,

For in vain to either breast While I on the other look.

Still beguiled Love does come:

Where he finds a foreign guest; * Tunbridge Wells.

Neither of your hearts at home.

Debtors thus, with like design,

When they never mean to pay, That they may the law decline,

To some friend make all away.



Not the silver doves that fiy,

Yok'd in Cytherea's car; Not the wings that lift so high,

And convey her son so far; Are so lovely, sweet, and fair,

Or do more ennoble love; Are so choicely match'd a pair,

Or with more consent do move.


AMORET, the Milky Way,

Fram'd of many nameless stars ! The smooth stream, where none can say,

He this drop to that prefers ! Amoret, my lovely foe!

Tell me where thy strength does lie? Where the power that charms us so ?

In thy soul, or in thy eye? By that snowy neck alone,

Or thy grace in motion seen,
No such wonders could be done;

Yet thy waist is straight, and clean,
As Cupid's shaft, or Hermes' rod:
And powerful too, as either god.

May those already curs'd Essexian plains,
Where hasty death and pining sickness reigns,
Prove all a desert! and none there make stay,
But savage beasts, or men as wild as they !
There the fair light, which all our island grac'd,
Like Hero's taper in the window plac'd,
Such fate from the malignant air did find,
As that exposed to the boisterous wind.

Ah, cruel Heaven! to snatch so soon away
Her, for whose life, had we had time to pray,
With thousand vows,and tears, we should have sought
That sad decree's suspension to have wrought.
But we, alas! no whisper of her pain
Heard, till 'twas sin to wish her here again.
That horrid word, at once, like lightning spread,
Strook all our ears—the Lady Rich is dead !
Heart-rending news! and dreadful to those few,
Who her resemble, and her steps pursne:
That Death should licence have to rage among
The fair, the wise, the virtuous, and the young!

ThePaphian queen) from that fierce battle borne, With goared hand, and veil so rudely torn, Like terrour did among th' immortals breed; Taught by her wound, that goddesses may bleed.

All stand amazed ! but beyond the rest Th'heroic dame 10, whose happy womb she blest, Mov'd with just grief, expostulates with Heaven; Urging the promise to th’ obsequious given, Of longer life ; for ne'er was pious soul More apt tobey, more worthy to control. A skilful eye at once might read the race Of Caledonian monarchs in her face, And sweet humility: her look and mind At once were lofty, and at once were kind. There dwelt the scorn of vice, and pity too, For those that did what she disdain'd to do: So gentle and severe, that what was bad, At once her hatred, and her pardon had. Gracious to all; but where her love was due, So fast, so faithful, loyal, and so true, That a bold hand as soon might hope to force The rolling lights of heaven, as change her course.

Some happy angel, that beholds her there, Instruct us to record what she was here ! And when this cloud of sorrow's over-blow n, Through the wide world we'll make her graces

known. So fresh the wound is, and the grief so vast, That all our art, and power of speech, is waste. Here passion sways, but there the muse shall raise Eternal monuments of louder praise.

There our delight, complying with her fame, Shall have occasion to recite thy name, Fair Sacharissa !--and now only fair! To sacred friendship we'll an altar rear, (Such as the Romans did erect of old) Where, on a marble pillar, shall be told The lovely passion each to other bare, With the resemblance of that matchless pair. Narcissus, to the thing for which he pin'd, Was not more like, than your's to her fair minds Save that she grac'd the several parts of life, A spotless virgin, and a faultless wife;


Ah, lovely Amoret, the care
Of all that know what's good, or fair !
Is Heaven become our rival too?
Had the rich gifts, confer'd on you
So amply thence, the common end
Of giving

5,—to pretend :
Hence, to this pining sickness (meant
To weary thee to a consent
Of leaving us) no power is given,
Thy beauties to impair: for Heaven
Solicits thee with such a care,
As roses from the stalks we tear;
When we would still preserve them new,
and fresh, as on the bush they grew.

With such a grace you entertain,
And look with such contempt on pain,
That, languishing, you conquer more,
And wound us deeper than before.
So lightnings, which in storms appear,
Scorch more than when the skies are clear.

And as pale sickness does invade Your frailer part, the breaches made In that fair lodging, still more clear Make the bright guest, your soul, appear. So nymphs, o'er pathless mountains borne, Their light robes by the brambles torn From their fair limbs, exposing new And unknown beauties to the view Of following gods, increase their flame, And haste, to catch the flying game,

9 Venus.

10 Christian countess of Devonshire.


Sacb was the steet converse 'twixt her and you, Nature these cates with such a lavish hand
As that she holds with her associates now.

Pours out among them, that our coarser land Hor false is Hope, and how regardless Fate, Tastes of that bounty, and does cloth return, That such a love should have so short a date ! Which not for warmth, but ornament, is worti: Lately I saw her sighing part from thee :

for the kind Spring, which but salutes us here, (Alas, that such the last farewell should be !) Inhabits there, and courts them all the year: So look'd Astræa, her remove design'd,

Ripe fruits and blossoms on the same trees live; On those distressed friends she left behind.

At once they promise, what at once they give. Consent in virtue knit your hearts so fast,

So sweet the air, so moderate the clime, That still the knot, in spite of death, does last : None sickly lives, or dies before his time. For, as your tears, and sorrow-wounded soul, Heaven sure has kept this spot of earth uncurst, Prore well, that on your part this bond is whole: To show how all things were created first. Sn, all we know of what they do above,

The tardy plants, in our cold orchards plac'd, k, that they happy are, and that they love. Reserve their fruit for the next age's taste: La dark oblivion, and the hollow grave,

There, a small grain, in some few months, will be
Content themselves our frailer thoughts to have: A firm, a lofty, and a spacious tree.
Well-chosen love is never taught to die,

The palina-christi, and the fair papà,
But with our nobler part invades the sky. Now but a seed (preventing Nature's law)
Than grieve no more, that one so heavenly shap'd In half the circle of the hasty year
The crooked hand of trembling age escap'd. Project a shade, and lovely fruits do wear.
Rather, since we beheld her not decay,

And as their trees, in our dull region set,
Bat that she ranish'd so entire away,

But faintly grow, and no perfection get ; Her wondrous beauty, and her goodness, merit, So, in this northern tract, our hoarser throats We should suppose, that some propitious spirit Utter unripe and ill-constrained notes : In that celestial form frequented bere;

While the supporter of the poet's style,
Azi is not dead, but ceases to appear.

Phæbus, on them eternally does smile.
Oh! how I long my careless limbs to lay
Under the plantain's shade; and all the day
With amorous airs my fancy entertain;

Invoke the muses, and improve my vein! BATTLE OF THE SUMMER-ISLANDS. No passion there in my free breast should move,

None but the sweet, and best of passions, love. CANTO L

There will I sing, if gentle Love be by, What fruits they have, and how Heaven smiles

That tunes my lute, and winds the string so high; Upon those late-discover'd isles.

With the sweet sound of Sacharissa's name, Alp me, Bellona! while the dreadful fight, I'll make the listening savages grow tame. Betwixt a nation, and two whales, I write:

But while I do these pleasing dreams indite, Seas stain'd with gore I sing, adventurous toil ! I am diverted from the promis'd fight. And bow these monsters did disarm an isle. Permuda, wall'd with rocks, who does not know?

CANTO II. That happy island! where huge lemons grow,

Of their alarm, and how their foes And orange-trees, which golden fruit do bear;

Discover'd were, this canto shows. Th' Hesperian garden boasts of none so fair: Though rocks so high about this island rise, Where shining pearl, coral, and many a pound, That well they may the numerous Turk despise; On the rich shore, of ambergris is found.

Yet is no human fate exempt from fear; The lofty cedar, which to heaven aspires,

Which shakes their hearts, while through the isle The prince of trees! is fuel for their fires :

A lasting noise, as horrid and as loud [they hear The smoke, by which their loaded spits do turn, As thunder makes, before it breaks the cloud. For incense might on sacred altars burn:

Three days they dread this murmur, ere they know Their private roofs on odorous timber borne, From what blind cause th' unwonted sound may Such as might palaces for kings adom.

At length two monsters of unequal size, [grow: The sweet palmitoes a new Bacchus yield, Hard by the shore, a fisherman espies ; With leaves as ample as the broadest shield : Two mighty whales ! which swelling seas had tost, Cnder the shadow of whose friendly boughs And left them prisoners on the rocky coast. They sit, carousing where their liquor grows. One, as a mountain vast; and with her came Figs there unplanted through the fields do grow, A cub, not much inferior to his dam. Such as fierce Cato did the Romans show ;

Here, in a pool among the rocks engag'd, With the rare fruit inviting them to spoil

They roar'd, like lions caught in toils, and rag'd. Carthage, the mistress of so rich a soil.

The man knew what they were, who heretofore The naked rocks are not unfruitful there,

Had seen the like lie murther'd on the shore: But, at some constant seasons, every year,

By the wild fury of some tempest cast, Their barren tops with luscious food abound ; The fate of ships, and shipwreck'd men, to taste. And with the eggs of various fowls are crown'd. As careless dames, whom wine and sleep betray Tobacco is the worst of things, which they

To frantic dreams, their infants overlay : To English landlords, as their tribute, pay.

So there sometimes the raging ocean fails, Soeh is the mould, that the blest tenant feeds And her own brood exposes; when the whales, On precious fruits, and pays his rent in weeds. Against sharp rocks, like reeling vessels, quash'd, With candy'd plantains, and the juicy pine, Though huge as mountains, are in pieces dash'd : On choicest melons, and sweet grapes, they dine: Along the shore their dreadful limbs lie scatter'd; Apl, with potatoes fat their wanton swine.

Like hillswith earthquakes shaken, torn, and shatter'd.


Hearts, sure, of brass they had, who tempted first Before her swims, and quits the hostile lake; Rude seas, that spare not what themselves have A prisoner there, but for his mother's sake. nurst.

She, by the rocks compelld to stay behind,
The welcome news, through all the nation spread, Is by the vastness of her bulk confin'd.
To sudden joy, and hope, converts their dread : They shout for joy! and now on her alone
What lately was their public terrour, they

Their fury falls, and all their darts are thrown. Behold with glad eyes as a certain prey :

Their lances spent, one, bolder than the rest, Dispose already of th' untaken spoil ;

With his broad sword provok'd the sluggish beast; And, as the purchase of their future tvil,

Her oily side devours both blade and heft: These share the hones, and they divide the oil. And there his steel the bold Bermudan left. So was the huntsman by the bear opprest,

Courage the rest from his example take, Whose hide he sold-before he caught the beast ! And now they change the colour of the lake:

They man their boats, and all the young men Blood flows in rivers from her wounded side, With whatsoever may the monsters harm; [arm As if they would prevent the tardy tide, Pikes, halberts, spits, and darts that wound so far; | And raise the food to that propitious height, The tools of peace, and instruments of war. As might convey her from this fatal streight : Now was the time for vigorous lads to show

She swims in blood, and blood does spouting throw What love, or honour, could invite them to: To Heaven, that Heaven men's cruelties might know. A goodly theatre! where rocks are round

Their fixed javelins in her sides she wears, With reverend age, and lovely lasses, crown'd. And on her back a grove of pikes appears : Such was the lake which held this dreadful pair, You would have thought, had you the monster seen Within the bounds of noble Warwick's share :

Thus drest, she had another island been. Warwick's bold earl! than which no title bears Roaring she tears the air with such a noise, A greater sound among our British peers.

As well resembled the conspiring voice And worthy he the memory to renew,

Of routed armies, when the field is won; The fate and honour, to that title due;

To reach the ears of her escaped son. Whose brave adventures have transfer'd his name, He, though a league removed from the foe, And through the new world spread his growing | Hastes to her aid : the pious Trojan 'so, fame.

[gain'd, Neglecting for Creüsa's life his own, But how they fought, and what their valour Repeats the danger of the burning town. Shall in another canto be contain'd.

The men amazed blush'd to see the seed

Of monsters, human piety exceed.

Well proves this kindness what the Grecian sung,
The bloody fight, successless toil,

That Love's bright mother from the ocean sprung. And how the fishes sack'd the isle.

Their courage droops, and hopeless now they wish

For composition with th' unconquer'd fish : Tue boat, which on the first assault did go, So she their weapons would restore, again Strook with a harping-irin the younger foe: Through rocks they'd hew her passage to the main. Who, when he felt his side so rudely goar'd, But how instructed in each other's mind ? Loud, as the sea that yourish'd him, he roarid, Or what commerce can men with monsters find ? As a broad bream to please some curious taste, Nor daring to approach their wounded fue, While yet alive, in boiling water cast,

Whom her courageous son protected so; Vex'd with unwonted heat, he flings about

They charge their musquets, and with hot desire The scorching brass, and hurls the liquor out: Of fell revenge, renew the fight with fire: So, with the barbed javelin stung, he raves, Standing aloof, with lead they bruise the scales, And scourges with his tail the suffering waves. And tear the flesh, of the incensed whales. Like Spenser's Talus with his iron fail,

But no success their fierce endeavours found, He threatens ruin with his ponderous tail;

Nor this way could they give one fatal wound. Dissolving at one stroke the batter'd boat,

Now to their fort they are about to send, And down the men fall drenched in the moat: For the loud engines, which their isle defend : With every fierce encounter they are forc'd But what those pieces, fram'd to batter walls, To quit their boats, and fare like men unhors'd. Would have effected on those mighty whales,

The bigger whale like some huge carack lay, Great Neptune will not have us know; who sends Which wanteth sea-room with her foes to play: A tide so high, that it relieves his friends. Slowly she swims, and when provok'd she would And thus they parted with exchange of harms; Advance her tail, her head salutes the mud :

Much blood the monsters lost, and they their arms.
The shallow water doth her force infringe,
And renders vain her tail's impetuous swinge:
The shining steel her tender sides receive,

And there, like bees, they all their weapons leave.
This sees the cub, and does himself oppose

Peace, babbling muse !
Betwixt his cumber'd mother and her foes : I dare not sing what you indite;
With desperate courage he receives her wounds, Her eyes refuse
And men and boats his active tail confounds. To read the passion which they writec
Their forces join'd, the seas with billows fill, She strikes my lute, but, if it sound,
And make a tempest, though the winds be still. Threatens to hurl it on the ground:

Now would the men with half their hoped prey And I no less her anger dread,
Be well content; and wish this cub away: Than the poor wretch that feigns him dead,
Their wish they have; he (to direct his dam
Unto the gap through which they thither came)

* Æneas

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