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then endeavours to subdue his friend's passion, Their joying perfects them, but us defaces, by showing the weakness of the causes which
gave rise to it; in which he partly succeeds, by That's perfect which obtaios his end: your
Thomalin's being willing to be cured of his Receive their end in love, She that's alone (graces
disease, Dies as she lives : no number is in one : Thus while she's but herself, she's not herself, she's
A FISHER - BOY, that never knew his peer Why blam'st thou then my stonie hard confection, In dainty songs, the gentle Thomalin, Which nothing loves ? thou single nothing art'.
With folded arms, deep sighs, and heavy cheer,
Where hundred nymphs, and hundred Muses ALGON. Lore perfects what it loves; thus thy affection,
inne, Married to mine, makes mines and thy perfection. Sunk down by Chamus' brinks ; with him his deare!
Deare Thirsil lay ; oft-times would he begin NICÆA.
To cure his grief, and better way advise ; Well, then, to pass our Tryphon in his art, But still his words, when his sad friend he spies,
And in a moment cure a wounded heart; Forsook his silent tongue, to speak his watrie eyes. If fairest Darwin, whom I serve, approve Thy suit, and thou wilt not thy heart remore, I'll join my heart to thine, and answer thee in love. Under a sprouting vine they carelesse lie,
Whose tender leaves bit with the eastern blast, 'The Sanne is set; adieu.
But now were born, and now began to die;
The latter, warned by the former's haste,
Thinly for fear salute the envious skie: '
Thus as they sat, Thirsil, embracing fast Thy parting is my ev'n, thy presence light. His loved friend, feeling his panting heart NICÆA.
To give no rest to his increasing smart, Farewell.
At length thus spake, while sighs words to his
griefs impart Thou giv'st thy wish ; it is in thee: Unlesse thou wilt, haplesse I cannot be.
Thomalin, I see thy Thirsil thou neglectest, Come, Algon, cheerly home; the thievish night Some greater love holds down thy heart in fear
Steals on the world, and robs our eyes of sight. Thy Thirsil's love and counsel thou rejectest; The silver streams grow black : home let us coast: Thy soul was wont to lodge within my eare : There of love's conquest may we safely hoast : But now that port no longer thou respectest; Soonest in love he winnes, that oft in love hath lost, Yet hath it still been safely harbour'd there.
My eare is not acquainted with my tongue, 7 This dialogue, between the lover and his That either tongue or eare should do thee wrong: mistress, is by far too pedantic and affected. Why then should'st thou conceal thy bidden grief Reasoning at any rate, in making love, is absurd so long? and unnatural, as I imagine few mistresses have ever been convinced by argumentation into an) affection for their lovers. Much more is this pointed and quibbling manner of arguing to be Thirsil, it is thy love that makes me hide
My smother'd grief from thy known faithful eare: condemned, and all that can be alledged in the
May still my Thirsil safe and merry bide; author's vindication is, that depraved taste, now happily exploded, but which prevailed universally For while thy breast in Heav'n doth safely ride,
Enough is me my hidden grief to bear : at the time he wrote, and had not lost much
My greater half with thee rides safely there. ground even in the time of Cowley and Waller,
So thou art well; but still my better part,
My Thomalin, sinks laden with bis smart :
Thus thou my finger cur'st, and wounds my bleed.
How oft hath Thomalin to Thirsil iow'd,
That as his heart so be his love esteem'd?
Where are those oaths ? Where is tbat heart "Thomalin is painted lying oppress'd with grief on
[deein'd, the banks of Chame. Tbirsil his friend en Which hides it from that breast which deare it deavours to comfort him, and enquires the cause And to that heart room in his heart allow'd ? of lis affliction. Thomalin describes to him his That love was never love, but only seem'd. : feelings, but is ignorant of the cause till Thirsil discovers that he is in..love, and from his own 1 The Chame and Cambridge have been conexperience enumerates the various disguises' secrated to the Muses from a very early age. which love assumes to enter the heart. Thirsil See Ecl. i. v. 7. and the note.
Tell me, my 'Thomalin, what enrious thief
Thee well I love, and thou lov'st me as well i Yet joy, no torment, in this passion prove:
Dut often have I heard the fishers tell,
He's not inferior to the mighty Jove, (and Hell: Tbirsil, my jovogs spring is blasted quite,
Jure Heav'n rules, Love, Jove, Heav'n, Earth And winter storms prevent the summer's ray : All as this vine, whose green the castern spite
Tell me, my friend, if thou dost better know : Hath dy'd to black, his catching arnis decay,
Men say, he goes arm'd with his shafts and bow :
Two darts, one swift as fire, as lead the other slow.
Ah, heedlesse boy! Love is not such a lad
As he is fancied by the idle gwain;
Such as Diana (with her buskin'd train
With golden quivers,) in Thessalian plain,
In level race outstrips the jumping deer,
With nimble feet ; or with a mighty spear This grief which in my heart lies deeply drown'd: Flings down abristle: boare, or else a squalid beare. My heart itself, though well it feels this wo,
Knows not the wo it feels: the worse my wound, Love's sooner felt than seen : bis substance thinne Which, though I rankling finde, I cannot show.
Betwixt those snowy mounts in ambush lies: Thousand fond passions in my breast abound ; Oft in the eyes he spreads his subtle ginne*; Fear leagu'd to joy, hope, and despair, together?, He therefore sonncst winges that fastest fies, Sighs bound to smiles, my heart, though prone to Fly thence, my deare, fly fast, my Thomalia: either,
Who bim encounters once, for ever dies : While both it would obey, 'twixt both, obcyeth But if he lurk between the ruddy lips, neither.
Unhappie soul that thence his nectar sips,
While down into his heart the sugred poison slips. Oft blushing flames leap cip into my face,
My guiltless cheek such purple thash admires : Oft in a voice he creeps down through the eare ; Oft stealing tears slip from mine eyes apace,
Oft from a blushing cheek he lights his fire: As if they meant to quench those canselcsse fires. Oft shrouds his golden fame in likest bair": My good I hate, my hurt I glad embrace:
Oft in a soft smooth skin doth close retire:
And if all fail, yet Virtue's self he'll hire :
4 Mà qual cosa è piu picciola d'amore
Se in ogni brevc spatio entra e s'asconde,
D'on biondo crine, hor dentro le pozzette Too true my fears: alas no wicked sprite,
Che forman un dolce riso in bella guancia ; No writheld witch, with spells of pow'rful E pur fa tanto grandi e si mortali charms,
E cosi immedicabili le piaghe. Or hellish herbs digg'd in as hellish night,
AMINTA di Tasso, act. 2. sc. 1. Gives to thy heart these oft and fierce alorms : But love, too hateful lore, with pleasing spite.
5 Golden hair, or, as a humouronis song calls it, And spiteful pleasure, thus hath bred thy harms; physiognomists, a mark of a warm and amorous
classical hair, is reckoned by Porta, and the And seeks thy rnirth with pleasance to destroy. .*Tis love, my Thomalin, my liefest boy;
disposition. Many people are apt to be surprised 'Tis love robs me of thee, and thee of all thy joy.
with the encomiums which the pocts in all ages
have lavished on golden locks : the epithet is now , Musæus's Leander is in a situation still inore,
become so familiar froin bring often applied te strange than our Thoma!in, for, upon the sight of express beauty, that it naturally conveys to the his mistress Hero, he is at one ani the same tiune disynsted whenever they meet with it in nature.
car an agreeable idea, and yet they find the eye stupid, impudent, bashful and timorous.
These people are in a mistake. The golden hair Ειλιδι μιν τοτε βαμβος αναιδίη, τρόμος, αιδως. which is celebrated by the poets is not that fiery Musæi Hero & Leand complexion of hair which we meet with frequently
in this country ; nor has the one more resemblance 3 These have been the avowed feelings of lovers to the other than the colour of a burning coal to in all ages: let every man who knows himself the golden beams of the Sun. Let them contemruch, compare them with his own.
plate the pictures of Guido, of Titian, and the Adeon' homines immutarier ex amore, ut aon capital painters; and in their female figures they eeynoscas eundem esse? TERENT. Eur. will admire the beauties of the golden bait. It is
Himselfs a dart, when nothing else can move.
My wounds with herbs, my grief with counsel saga
restraining THOMALIN. Sure love it is which breeds this burning fever :
But tell me first, why should thy partial minde For late, (yet all too soon) on Venus' day,
More Melite than all the rest approve? I chanc'd (oh, cursed chance! yet blessed ever!)
THOMALIX. As carelesse on the silent shores I stray,
Thirsil, her beautie all the rest did blinde, Five nymphs to see, five fairer saw I never,
That she alone seem'd worthy of my love. Upon the golden sand to dance and play: Delight npon her face, and sweetnesse shind: The rest among, yet far above the rest,
Her eyes do spark as starres, as starres do move: Sweet Melite, by whom my wounded breast, Like those twin fires which on our masts appear, Thoʻrankling still in grief, yet joyes in his unrest. And promise calms. Ah! that those flames so Xv. clear,
[fear. There, to their sportings while pipe and sing,
To me alone should raise such storms of hope and Out from ber eyes I felt a firie beam,
XX. And pleasing beat, (such as in first of spring
From Sol, inn'd in the Bull, do kindly stream;) If that which to thy mind doth worthiest seem, To warın my heart, and with a gentle sting
By thy well temper'd soul is most affected; *Blow np desire : yet little did I dream
Can'st thou a face worthy thy love esteem? Such bitter fruits from such sweet roots could grow, What in thy soul than love is more respected ? Or from so gentle cye such spite could flow;
Those eyes, which in their spheare thou, fond, dost For who could fire expect hid in an bill of snow?
Like living starres, with some disease infected, (deem XVI.
Are dull as leaden drosse : those beauteous rayes, But when those lips (those melting lips) I press’d, So like a rose when she her breast displayes,
I lost my heart, which sure she stole away; Are like a rose indeed; as sweet, as soon decayes I. For with a blush she soon her guilt confest,
And sighs, which sweetest breath did soft convey, Art thou in love with wordes? her words are winde, Betrai'd her theft: from thence my flaming breast, As fleete as is their matter, fleetest air.
Like thund'ring Ætna, burns both night and day: Her beautie moves? Can colours move thy minde? All day she present is, and, in the night,
Colours in scorned weeds more sweet and fair. My wakeful fancy paints her full to sight:
Some pleasing qualitie thy thoughts doth binde? Absence her presence makes, darkness presents
Love then thyself. Perhaps her golden hair? her light.
False metal, which to silver soon descends !
Is't pleasure then which so thy fancie bends?
Poore pleasure, that in pain begins, in sorrow ends?
What! is't ber company so much contents thee > But better times did better reason show, [art,
How would she present stirre up stormy weather, And cur'd those burning wounds with heav'nly when thus in absence present she torments thee? Those storms of looser fire are laid full low;
Lov'st thou not one, but all these join'd together? And higher love safe anchors in my heart :
All's but a woman. Is't her love that rents thee? So now a quiet calm does safely reigne;
Light windes, light aire ; her love more light than And if my friend think not my counsel vain,
If then due worth thy true affection moves, (either. Perhaps my art may cure, or much assuage, thy Here is no worth. Who some old hag approves, pain.
And scorns a beauteous spouse, he rather dotes
than lores. THOMALIN. Thirsil, although this pitching grief doth please
• The appearance of a light or fire on the top My captive heart, and love doth more detest
of the mast, is well kuown and familiar to sailors. The cure and curer than the sweet disease ;
The ancients, who understood not the principles Yet if my Thirsil doth the cure request,
of electricity, from which this phenomenon is acThis storm, which rocks my heart in slumb'ring
counted for, supposed it a mark either of the faSpite of itself shall yield to thy behest. (ease, vour or displeasure of the gods; for, when only
one fire was seen upon the mast, it was accounted an indeed a colour which, I believe, is not at all to be uplucky omen, and presaging a storm; when two met with in our northern climates. In Italy, we appeared, it was esteemed favourable, and proare told, that this colour is in the highest estima- mising good weather. These lights had sometimes tion; and, even there, its being very uncommon
the names of Castor and Pollux, who were the sons contributes to increase its beauty. It is from that of Jupiter by Leda, and were supposed to be transcountry, and its painters and poets, that our
formed into stars. Concerning this belief of the imitators have learned to cry up the beauties of the ancients, see Pliny, lib. 2. cap. 27. Hygin. lib. 27. golden locks; but the epithet is ill suited, because Horace, lib. 1. od. 12. See also Magellan's Voyin these climes it represents a picture which has ages, where they are mentioned by the names of nothing new or uncommon to recommend it, and St. Helen, St. Nicholas, and St. Clare. is rather disagreeable than pleasing.
! I have seen a very elegant epigram, of which
a troop of fishers and water-nyinphs, who had Then let thy love mount from these baser things, concerted to dispute with them the prize of
And to the highest love and worth aspire : singing. Daphnis, the shepherds', and ThomaLove's born of fire, fitted with mounting wings, lin, the fishers' champion, advance in the middle
That, at his highest, he might winde him higher; of the circle, before Thirsil, who is appointed Base love, that to base earth so basely clinys ! judge, and begin an alternate song, in which, Look, as the beams of that, celestial fire
after invoking their tutelary gods, they each. Put out these earthly flames with purer ray;
recite the history of their loves, and tbe praises So shall that love this baser heat allay,
of their mistresses. After deciding the controAnd quench these coals of earth with his more versy, Thirsil, the judge, gives an invitation to heav'nly day.
all the shepherds and fishers, with their nymphs,
and with him the day is spent in sporting and Raise then thy prostrate love with tow'ring thought, festivity.
And clog it not in chains, and prison here:
THIRSII, DAPHNIS, THOMALIN. Next, love thou there, where best thy love is
1. Myself, or else some other fitting peer.
AURORA from old Tithon's frosty bed
Her cheek with grief was pale, with anger red,"
Out of her window close she blushing peeps; She shall not more deserve, nor cannot love so well.
Her weeping eyes in pearled dew she steeps ;
Casting what sportless nights she ever led : Thu's Tryphon once did weane my fond affection ; She dying lives, to think he's living dead. Then fits a salve unto th' infected place,
Curst be, and cursed is, that wretched sire (A salve of soveraigne and strange confection) That yokes grcen youth with age, want with desire,
Nepenthe, mix'd with rue and herb-de-grace: Who ties the Sunne to snow, or marries frost to fire?. So did he quiekly heal this strong infection,
And to myself restor'd myself apace.
The morn saluting, up I quickly rise,
Upon the shore to meet in gentle fray,
Daphnis, the shepherd-lad, whom Mira's eyes
Thomalin, the fisher, in whose heart did reigne
Stella, whose love his life, and whose disdain
Seems worse than angry skies, or never-quiet main. "Tis done if once thou wilt; 'tis done, I finde.
Now let us home: for see, the creeping night Steals from those further waves upon the land.
are, bowever, I believe, none wbo, upon compar.'
ing this of our poet with the similar eclogues of Tó-morrow shall we feast; then, hand in hand, Free will we sing, and dance along the golden sand other authors, fnay, of these great models them
selves) will deny him in this the superiority. There I know not the author, where this sentiment of the is here a much greater variety of sentiment than short duration of the rose is prettily expressed:
in the like eclogues of others. Even in Virgil and
Theocritus, the one sheplierd but barely repeats Quam longa una dies, ætas tam longa rosarum, the sentiment of the other, orly varying a little,
Quas pubescentes juncta senecta premit. and adapting it to apply to his own circumstances. Quam modo nascentem rutilus conspexit coüs, One shepherd says, he intends to make a present Hanc rediens sero respere vidit anum. of pigeons to his mistresses; the other, instead of
pigeons, says he will give her apples. The contention between the shepherds in Spenser's fc.
logues has something extremely ludicrous and burECLOGUE VII.
lesque, where the one shepherd is merely an echo to the last words of the other, and the whole merit lies in an aukward chime of words with little or no meaning. — If this eclogue yields to any of the same kind, it is to the ninth of Michael Drayton's
pastorals, which is full of picturesque description, At sunrise, a band of shepherds and shepherdesses and the contest between the shepherds is there
are seen advancing in order, and are joined by finely managed.
· This eclogue is modelled after the third of 2 This description of the morning is most eleVirgil, and fifth or eighth of Theocritus, which gant and beautiful; and the fine reflection, which there have been few pastoral writers who have not be so naturally introduces, is particularly ad, chosen to imitate in some of their eclogues: there mirable.
There soon I view the merry shepherd-swains
Give me that verse wbich to the honour'd bay, Three lovely nymphs (each several row between, (That verse which by thy promise now is due) More lovely nymphs could no where else be seen, To honour'd Daphne, in a sweet tun'd lay,
Whose face's snow their snowy garments stains;) (Daphne* thy chang'd, thy love unchanged aye ;)
With sweeter voices fit their pleasing strains. Thou sangest late, when she, now better staid, Their flocks flock round about ; 'the horned rammes More humane when a tree than when a maid, And ewes go silent by, while wantun lainbes, Bending her head, thy love with gentle signe reDancing along the plains, forget their milky
What tongue, what thought, can paint my love's Scarce were the shepherds set, but straight in perfection? sigót
So sweet hath nature pourtray'd ev'ry part, The fisher-boyes came driving up the stream ; That art will prove that artist's imperfection, Themselves in blue, and twenty sca-nymphs Who when no eye dare view, dares limine her bright,
Phæbus, in vain I call thy help to blaze [face : In curious robes, that well the waves might seem; More light than thine ; a light that never fell: All dark below, the top like frothy cream : Thou tell'st what's done in Heav'n, iu Earth, and Their boats and masts with flow'rs and garlands
[to tell. dight;
[white: Her worth thou may'st admire; there are no words And round the swannes guard them, with armies Their skiffes by couples dance to sweetest sounds, Which running cornets breathe to full plain
She is like thee, or thou art like her rather: grounds,
Such as her hair, thy beams; thy single light, That strikes the river's face, and thence more sweet
As her twin-sunnes : that creature then, I gather,
bright: And now the nymphs and swains had took their So thou, as she, confound'st the gazing sight: place;
[pride; Thy absence is my night : her absence, Hell. First, those two boyes; Thomalin, the fishers' Since then, in all, thyself she doth excel,
(tell ? Daphnis, the shepherds' : nymphs their right What is beyond thyself, how can'st thou hope to
hand grace; And choicest swains shut up the other side :: So sit they down, in order fit apply'd :
First her I saw, when tir'd with bunting toil, Thirsil betwixt them both, in middle space;
In shady grove, spent with the weary chace; Thirsil, their judge, who now's a shepherd base,
Her naked breast lay open to the spoil ; But late a fisher-swain; till envious Chame
The crystal humour trickling down apace', Had rent his nets, and sunk his boat with shame ;
Like ropes of pearl, her neck and breast inlace: So robb’d the boyes of him, and him of all his
The aire (my rival aire) did coolly glides
Through ev'ry part; such when my love I spy'd. game.
So soon I saw my love, so soon I lov'd and dy'de So, as they sit, thus Thirsil 'gins the lay :
Her face two colours paint: the first a flame;
(Yet she all cold) a flame in rosy die, You lovely boyes, the woods' and ocean's pride,
Which sweetly blushes like the morning's shame : Since I am judge of this sweet peaceful fray, The second snow ; such as on Alps doch lie; First tell us, where and when your loves you spy'd : And safely there the Sunne doth bold defy. And when in long discourse you well are try'd, Yet this cold snow can kindle bot desire. Then in short verse, by turns, we'll gently play: Thou miracle, mar'l not if I admire [barn as fire. In love begin, in love we'll end the day.
How flame should coldly freeze, and snow should Daphnis, thou first; to me you both are deare: Ah! if I might, I would not judge, but heare : Nought have I of a judge but an impartial eare.
Her slender waste, her hand, that dainty breast,
Her cheek, her forehead, eye, and flaming hair ;
And those hid beauties, which must sure be best, 3 The recorder is a wind-instrument of a soft
In vain to speak, when words will more impair: and melancholy sound. Milton makes the infer
Of all the fairs, she is the fairest fair. nal spirits march on In perfect phalanx, to the Dorian mood
Daphne, the daughter of the river Peneus, Of Autes, and soft recorders ;
was beloved of Apollo; and, being pursued by
bim, invoked her father's assistance, and was which, says he, had the effect
transformed into a laurel or bay-tree. to mitigate and swage
5 Whether this image is pleasing or otherwise, With solemn touches, tronbled thoughts, and chase would perhaps admit of a little dispute. Anguish, and doubt, and fear, and sorrow, and pain, 6 That the air has been a lover's rival, is known From mortal or immortal minds.
from the beautiful story of Cephalus and Procris. Paradise Lost, b. i. v. 550.
Ovid. Met. b. 1.