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Like to the house where we act plays,
On the smooth water's shining face Ile made a turning winding maze,
See the amazing creatures pass, Fitting to harbour acts of sin,
Look up astonishd, whilst the reed And put a whore and bastard in.
Drops from the hand whose sense is dead, “ . I've done your work, and now my Roll'd by the wind's impetuous haste trust is,
They Samos now and Naxos past, Good sir, that you will do me justice.
Paros, and Delos, blest abode 'Tis true I hither fled for murther;
And parent of the Clarian god : Let my misfortunes go no further ;
Lebinthus on their right hand lies, Some end all punishments should have,
And sweet Calydne's grovej arise, Birth to the wretch my country gave:
And famd Astypalæa's fens Let it afford me now a grave,
Breed shoals of fish in oozy dens: Dismiss my son; at least, if rather
When the unwary boy, whose growing years You'd keep the boy, dismiss his father.'
Ne'er knew the worth of cautious fears, This he might say, and more, or so;
Mounts an ethereal hill, whence he might spy But Minos would not let him go.
The lofty regions of a brighter sky; At this he was enrag'd, and cried,
Far from his father's call and aid "It is in danger wit is tried:
His wings in glittering fire display'd, Minos possesses earth and sea;
Whose ambient heat their plume involves, The sky and fire are left for me.
And all their liquid bands dissolves. Pardon my fond attempt, great Jove,
He sees his loosen'd pinions drop; If I approach your seats above.
On naked arms lies all his hope. It is necessity that draws
From the vast concave precipice he finds A new-invented rule for Nature's laws.'
A swift destruction, sinking with the winds. “ Thus he began: Full many a feather
Beneath him lies a gaping deep, With twine of thread he stitch'd together:
Whose womb is equally as steep. (Abundance more than are enough
Then, “father! father!' he'd have cried : To make your wife and mine a muff.)
Tempests the trembling sounds divide, Thus he frames wings, and nothing lacks
Whilst dismal fear contracts his breath, To fix the whole, but melted wax:
And the rough wave completes his death. That was the work of the young boy,
My son! my son!' long might the father Pleas'd at the fancy of the toy;
cry: Not guessing, ere he was much older,
There is no track to seek him in the sky. He should have one upon each shoulder.
By floating wings his body found To whom his father: * Here's the ship
Is cover'd with the neighbouring ground. By which we must from Minos slip.
His art, though not successful, has its fame, Child, follow me, just as I fly on,
And the Icarian seas preserve his name." And keep your eye fix'd on Orion :
If men from Minos could escape, l'll be your guide; and never fear,
And into birds transform their shape, Conducted by a father's care,
And there was nothing that could hold them, The Virgin and Bootes shun:
Provided feathers might be sold them; Take heed lest you approach the Sun;
The thought from madness surely springs His fiaming influence will be felt,
To fix a god that's born with wings. And the diffusive wax will melt.
Quoth t'other man, “Sir, if you'll tarry, The sea by rising fogs discover;
I'll tell you a tale of my boy Harry, O'er that, be sure, you never hover:
Would make a man afraid to marry. It would be difficult to drag
This boy does oft from paper white Your wetted pinions, should they flag.
In miniature produce a kite. Between them both the sky is fair,
With tender hands the wood he bends, No winds or hurricanes are there,
On which the body he extends : But you may fan the flectivg air.'
Paste made of flour witb water mix'd “ Thus speaking, he with whipcord-strings Is the cement by which 'tis fix'd : Pastens, and then extends, the wings :
Then scissors from the maid he'll borrow, And, when the youth's completely drest,
With promise of return to-morrow. Just as the eagle from her nest
With those he paper nicely cuts, By gentle flights her eaglet tries
Which on the sides for wings he puts. To dare the Sun, and mount the skies;
The tail, that's an essential part, The father so his boy prepares,
He manages with equal art; Not without kiss and falling tears.
With paper shreds at distance tied, In a large plain, a rising height
As not too near, nor yet too wide, Gires sume assistance to their flight.
Which he to fitting length extends, With a quick spring and fluttering noise,
Till with a tuft the fabric ends. They in the sky their bodies poise.
Next packthread of the evenest twine, Back on his son the father looks,
Or sometimes silk, he'll to it join, Praising his swist and even strokes.
Which, by the guidance of his band, Now dreadless, with bold art supplied,
Its rise or downfall may command; He does on airy billows ride,
Or carry messengers to see And soar with an ambitious pride.
If all above in order be. Mortals, who by the limpid flood
Then wanton zephyrs fan it till it rise, skies. With paticat angle long have stood,
And through ethereal rills plough up the azure
“ Sometimes in silent shades of night This of Sithonian Rhesus is the tent. He'll make it shine with wondrous light On with the pleasing tale your language went, By lantern with transparent folds,
When a tenth wave did with one flash destroy Which flaming wax in safety holds.
The platform of imaginary Troy. This, glittering with mysterious rays,
By fear like this I would enforce your stay, Does all the neighbourhood amaze.
To see what names the waters toss'd away. Then comes the conjurer o' th' place,
I took you cast up helpless by the sea : With legs a quint and crooked face,
Thousands of happy hours you pass'd with me; Who with his spying pole from far
No mentiou made of old Penelope, Pronounces it a blazing-star:
On adamant our wrongs we all engrave, That wheat shall fall, and oats be dear,
But write our benefits upon the wave. And barley shall not spring that year:
Why then be gone, the seas uncertain trust; That murrain shall infect all kine,
As I found you, so may you find them just. And measles will destroy the swine:
Dying Calypso must be left behind, That fair maids' sweethearts shall fall dead And all your vows be wafted with the wind." Before they lose their maidenhead;
Fond are the hopes he should be constant now, And widows shall be forc'd to tarry
Who to his tenderest part had broke his vow. A month at least before they marry.
By artful charms the mistress strives in vain But, whilst the fool his thought enjoys,
The loose inconstant wanderer to gain. The whole contrivance was my boy's.
Shame is her entrance, and her end is pain,
INDULGENCE soon takes with a noble mind: If she'll with cuckold-makers run.
Who can be harsh, that sees another kind? No watchful care of jealous eye
Most times the greatest art is to comply Can binder, if escape she'll try;
In granting that which justice might deny. The kite will to her carrion fly.”
We forın our tender plants by soft degrees, Where native Modesty the mind secures, And from a warping stem raise stately trees. The husband has no need of locks and doors; To cut th' opposing waves, we strive in vain; The cious comet, fram'd by Jealousy,
But, if we rise with them, and fall again,
The wish’d-for land with ease we may attain.
Mildness and temper have a force divine,
To make ev'n passion with their nature join.
The hawk we hate, as living still in arms, Not all the herbs by sage Mede'a found,
And wolves assiduous in the shepherd's barms. Not Marsan drugs, though mixt with magic sound, The sociable swallow has no fears, Not philtres studied by Thessalian art,
Upon our towers the dove her nest prepares, Can fix the mind, and constancy impart.
And both of them live free from buman snares. Could these prevail, Jason had felt their charms; Far from loud rage and echoing noise of lights Ulysses still had died in Circe's arms.
The softest Love in gentle sound delights. Continue lovely, if you'll be belov'd :
Smooth mirth, bright smiles, calm peace, and Virtue from Virtue's bands is ne'er remov'd.
flowing joy, Like Nireus beautiful, like Hylas gay;
Are the companions of the Paphian boy: By time the blooming outside will decay. Such as when Hymen first his mantle spread See hyacinth again of form bereft,
All o'er the sacred down which made the bridal bed. And only thorns upon the rose-tree left.
These blandishments keep Love upon the wing, Then lay up stores of learning and of wit, His presence fresh, and always in the spring: Whose fame shall scorn the Acherontic pit, This makes a prospeet endless to the view, And, whilst those fleeting shadows vainiy fly, With light that rises still, and still is new; Adorn the better part, which cannot die.
At your approach, find every thing serene, Ulysses had no magic in his face ;
Like Paphos honourd by the Cyprian queen, But then his eloquence had charming grace, Who brings along her daughter Harmony, Such as could force itself to be believ'd,
With Muses sprung from Jove, and Gract-s three. And all the watery goddesses deceiv’d:
Birds shot by you, fish by your angle caught, To whom Calypso from her widow'd shore The golden apples from Hesperia brought, Sends him these sigbs, which furious tempests The blushing peach, the fragrant pectareens, bore.
Laid in fresh beds of flowers and scented greens, “ Your passage often I by art delay'd,
Fair lilies strew'd with bloody muluerries, Oblig'd you more, the more to be betray'd. Or grapes whose juice made Bacchus rearh the Here you have often on this rolling sand May oftentimes a grateful present make, [skies, Describ'd your scene of war with slender wand. Not for the value, but the giver's sake. Here's Troy, and this circumference its wails : Perhaps she may at vacant hours peruse Here Simoïs gently in the ocean falls :
The happy product of your casy Muse. Here lies my camp: these are the spacious fields Far from intrigue and scandal be your verse; Where to this sword the crafty Dolon yields. But praise of virgin-modesty rehearse;
Mausolus by his consort deified;
“ Come quickly, sir, off with this skin: How for Admetus blest Alcestis died.
Think you I'll let a tanner in ? Since Overbury's Wife 3, no poets seem
If you of lions talk, or boars, T have chose a wiser or a nobler theme.
You certainly turn out of doors. You'd help a neighbour, would a friend prefer; Your club's abundantly too thick Pardon a servant, let all come from her.
For one sball move a fiddle-stick. Thus what you grant if she must recommend, What should you do with all those arrows ? 'Twill make a mutual gift and double friend.
I will have nothing kill'd but sparrows. So, when pale Want is craving at the door,
Heccy, this day you may remember; We send our favourite son to help the poor;
For you shall see a lady's chamber. Pleas'd with their grateful prayers that he may Let me be rightly understood : live,
What I intend is for your good. And find what heavenly pleasure 'tis to give.
In boddice I design to lace ye, Praise all her actions, think her dress is fine; And so among my maids I'll place ye. Embroideries with gold, pearl, diamonds, join; When you're genteeler grown, and thinner, Your wealth does best, when plac'd on beauty, May be I'll call you up to dinner. shive.
With arins so brawny, fists so red, If she in tabby waves encircled be,
You'll scrub the rooms, or make the bed. Think Amphytrite rises from the sea,
You can't stick pins, or frieze my hair. If by her the purpureal velvet's worn,
Bless me! you've nothing of an air. Tbink that she rises like the blush of morn.
You'll never come up to working point: And, when ber silks afar from Indus come,
Your fingers all seem out of joint. Wrought in Chinese or in the Persian loom,
Then, besides, Heccy, I must tell ye, Think that she then like Pallas is array'd,
An idie-hand has empty belly: By whose mysterious art the wheel was made. Therefore this morning I'll begin, Each day admire her different graceful air,
Try how your clumsiness will spin. In which she winds her bright and flowing hair. You are my shadow, do you see : With her when dancing, let your geuius fly: Your hope, your thought, your wish, all be When in her song the vote expires, then die. Invented and control'd by me. If in the autumn, when the wasting year
Look up whene'er I laugh; look down Its plenty shows, that soon must disappear; With trembling horrour, if I frown. When swelling grape and peach with lovely hue, Say as I say: servants can't lie. And pear and apple, fresh with fragrant dew, Your truth is my propriety. By tempting look and taste perhaps invite
Nay, you should be to torture brought, That which we seldom rule, our appetite;
Were I but jealous you transgrest in thought ; When noxious heat and sudden cold divides Or if from Jove your single wish should crave The time o'er which bale influence presides; The fate of not continuing still my slave. Her feverish blood should pulse unusual find,
“ There is no lover that is wise Or vaporous damps of spleen should sink her Pretends to win at cards or dice. mind;
'Tis for his mistress all is thrown: Then is the time to show a lover's cares:
Th’ill-fortune his, the good her own.
Fam'd for his valour and his truth,
Whom every beauty did adorn Watch, and attend; then your reward will prove,
Fresh as Aurora's blushing morn, When she recovers, full increase of love.
Into the horrid woods is run, Far from this love is haughty pride,
Where he ne'er sees the ray of Sun, Which ancient fables best deride;
Nor to his palace dares return, Wonen imperious, void of shame,
Where he for Psyche's love did burn, And careless of their lovers' fame,
And found correction at her hands Who of tyrannic follies boast,
For disobeying just commands; Tormenting him that loves them most.
But must his silent penance do When Hercules, by labours done,
Por once not buckling of her shoe: Had prov'd bimself to be Jove's son,
A good example, child, for you. By peace which he to Earth had given,
Which shows you, when we have our fool, Deserv'd to have his rest in Heaven;
We've policy enough to rule : Envy, that strives to be unjust,
I might have made you such a fellow, Resolvd to mortify him first;
As should have carried iny umbrella, And, that he should enamour'd be
Or bore a flambeau by my chair, Of a proud jilt calPd O'nphalé,
And bade the mob not come too near; Who should bis herosbip expose
Or lay the cloth, or wait at table; By spinning hemp in women's clothes,
Nay, been a helper in the stable. Her mind she did vouchsafe one day
“ To my commands obedience pay Thus to ber lover to display:
At dead of night, or break of day.
Speed is your province; if 'tis I 8 This poem, supposed to have been written for That bid you run, you ought to fly. the earl of Somerset, is the character of a good He that love's nimble passion feels woman, just the reverse of the lady that his friend Will soon outstrip my chariot wheels. married. It is printed with his Characters, &c. Through dog-star's beat he'll tripping go, and had gone through sixteen editious iu 1638. Nor leaves he print upon the spow; N.
The wind itself to bim is slow,
He that in Cupid's wars would fight,
Daily till midnight let kind looks or soug, Grief, winter, dirty roads, and night,
Or tales of love, the pleasing hours prolong. A bed of earth midst showers of rain,
No weariness upon their bliss attends After no supper, are his gain.
Whom marriage-vows have render'd more than Bright Phæbus took Admetus' pay,
So Philomels, of equal mates possest, [friends. And in a little cottage lay:
With a congenial heat, and downy rest, All this he did for fear of Jove;
And care incessant, hover o'er their nest : And who would not do more for love?
Hence from their eggs (small worlds whence all If entrance is by locks denied,
things spring) Then through the roof or window slide.
Produce a race by Nature taught to sing; Leander each night suam the seas,
Who ne'er to this harmonious air had come, That he might thereby llero please.
Had their parental love stray'd far from home. Perhaps I may be pleas’d to see
By a short absence mutual joys increase : Your life in danger, when for me.
"Tis from the toils of war we value peace. You'll find my servants in a row;
When Jove a while the fruitful shower restrains, Remember then you make your bow;
The tield on his return a brighter verdure gains. For they are your superiors now,
So let not grief too much disturb those hearts, No matter if you do engage
Which for a while the war or business parts. My porter, woman, favourite page,
'Twas hard to let Protesilaus go, My dog, ny parrot, monkey, black,
Who did his death by oracles foreknow. Or any thing that does partake
Ulysses made indeed a tedious stay, Of that admittance which you lack.
His twenty winters' absence was delay; But after all you mayn't prevail,
But happiness revives with his return, And your most glittering hopes may fail: And Hymen’s altars with fresh incense burn: For Ceres does not always yield
Tales of his ship, her web, they both recount; The crop intrusted to the field.
Pleas'd that their wedlock faith all dangers could Fair gales may bring you to a coast
surmount. Where you'll by hidden rocks be lost.
Make thou speed back; haste to her longing Love is tenacious of its joys, Gives small reward for great employs;
She may have real or impending barms, But has as many griefs in store,
There are no minutes in a lover's fears : As shells by Neptune cast on shore;
They measure all their time by months and years. As Athos hares, as Hybla bces,
Poets are always Virtue's friends, Olives on the Palladian trees.
'Tis what their Muze still recommends : And, when his angry arrows fall,
But then the fatal track it shows They're not found ting'd with common gall. Where devious Vice through trouble goes. You're told I'm not at home, 'tis true:
They tell us, how a husband's care I may be there, but not for you;
Neglected Icaves a wife too fair And I may let you see it too.
In hands of a young spark, call'a Paris ; Perhaps I bid you come at night :
And how the beauteous trust miscarries. If the door's shut, stay till’tis light.
With kindness be receives the youth, Perhaps my maid shall bid you go:
Whose modest looks might promise truth: A thing she knows you dare not do.
Then gives him opportunity Your rival shall admission gain,
To throw the specious vizard by. And laugh to see his foe in pain.
The man had things to be adjusted, All this and more you must endure,
With which the wife should not be trusted ; If you from me expect a cure.
And, whilst he gave himself the loose, "Tis fitting I should search the wound,
Left her at home to keep the house. Lest all your danger be not found.”
When Helen saw his back was turn'd, When easy fondness meets with woman's pride, The devil a bit the gipsy mourn’d. Nothing which that can ask must be denied.
Says she, “ 'Tis bis fault to be gone;
A vacant pillow's such a jest,
That with it I could never rest.
He ne'er consider'd his own danger,
Left to their vigilance to keep.
Pray who, except 'twere geese or widgeons, PART IX.
Would hire a hawk to guard their pigeons ?
Supposing then it might be said Not by the sail with which you put to sca
That Menelaus now were dead:
A pretty figure I should make
He that is gone, is gone: less fear
Of wanting him that I have here."
The sequel was the fire of Troy
“ 'Tis wisdom to display the ruling grace. Brought to destruction by this boy.
Some men are happy in a charming lace: They tell us, how a wife provok’d,
Know it, but be not vain. Some maniy show And to a brutish husband yok'd,
By the exploded gun and nervous bow. Who, by distracting passion led,
There let them prove their skill; perhaps some Scorns all her charms, and flies her bed,
May find that every shot is Cupid's dart. [l.eart When on her rival she has seiz'd,
The prudent lover, if bis talent lies Seems with a secret horrour pleas'd.
In eloquence, e'nt talkative, but wise; They then describe her like some boar
So mixes words delicious to the ear, Plunging his tusk in mastiff's gore;
That all must be persuaded who can hear. Or lioness, whose ravish'd whelp
He that can sing, let bim with pleasing sound, Roars for his mother's furious help;
Though 'tis an air that is not mortal, wound. Or basilisk when rous'd, whose breath,
Let not a poet my own art refuse: Teeth, sting, and eye-balls, all are death;
I'll come, and bring assistance to his Muse." Like frantics struck by magic rod
But never by ill means your fortune push, Of some despis'd avenging God:
Nor raise your credit by another's blush. Make ber through blood for vengeance run,
The secret rites of Ceres none profane, Like Progne sacrifice her son;
Nor tell what gods in Samo-thracia reign. And like Medea dart those fires
'Tis virtue by grave silence to conceal By which Creüca's gbost expires.
What talk without discretion would reveal. Then let her with exalted rage
For fault like this now Tantalus does lie Her grief with the same crimes assuage.
In midst of fruits and water, starv'd and dry. To heighten and improve the curse,
But Cytherea's modesty requires Because he's bad, they make her worse.
Most care to cover all her lambent fires. So Tyndaris dissolves in tears,
Love has a pleasing turn, makes that seem best When first sbe of Chryseis hears;
Of wbich our lawful wishes are possest. But, when Lyrnessis captive's led,
Andromeda, of Libyc hue and blood, And ravish'd to defile her bed,
Was chain'd a prey to monsters of the food: Her patience lessens by degrees;
Wing’d Perseus saw her beauty through that cloud. But, when at last she Priameïs sees,
Andromache had large majestic charms; Revenge does to Ægystus fly for ease;
Therefore was fittest grace to godiike Hector's arms. In bis adulterous arms does plots disclose,
Beauties in smaller airs bear like commands, Which fill Mycenæ with stupendous woes, And wondrous magic acts by slenderest Wands. And parricide and Hell around her throws. Like Cybele some bear a mother's sway,
Ye heavenly powers! the female truth preserve, Whilst infant gods and heroines obey. And let it not from native goodness swerve; Some rule like stars by guidance of their eyes, And let po wanton toys become the cause
And others please when like Minerva wise.
There will be little jealousies,
But rises, like the pa'm, opprest.
Till we, by turn of fortune taught,
Have wisdom by experience bought:
So, when the hoary ashes grow
And then its craftiness is shown,
To raise your cares, to hide its own;
And then perhaps your eyes they 'd tear,
Not so much for revenge as fear.
Whilst thus my darling thoughts in raptures Of which there's a poetic story
For fear, not asking when or why,
Marrying her son unto bis daughter:
Not with their own, but friends' consent. • Let each man know himself: strive to excel : This Vulcan was a smith, they tell us, The pleasure of the blest is doing well.
That first invented tongs and bellows; VOL.'IX.