Poems, Sonnets – Ode 2
SONNETS.
I.
ONightingale, that on you bloomy Spray
Warbl'ſt at eeve, when all the Woods are ſtill,
Thou with freſh hope the Lovers heart doſt fill,
While the jolly hours lead on propitious May,
Thy liquid notes that cloſe the eye of Day,
Firſt heard before the ſhallow Cuccoo's bill
Portend ſucceſs in love; O if Jove's will
Have linkt that amorous power to thy ſoft lay,
Now timely ſing, ere the rude Bird of Hate
Foretell my hopeles doom in ſom Grove ny:
As thou from year to year haſt ſung too late
For my relief; yet hadſt no reaſon why,
Whether the Muſe, or Love call thee his mate,
Both them I ſerve, and of their train am I.
II.
Donna leggiadra il cui bel nome honora
L'herboſa val di Rheno, e il nobil varco,
Bene è colui d'ogni valore ſcarco
Qual tuo ſpirto gentil non innamora,
Che dolcemente moſtra ſi di fuora
De ſui atti ſoavi giamai parco,
E i don', che ſon d'amor ſaette ed arco.
La onde l' alta tua … ….
Quando tu v…ga parli, o lieta canti
Che mover poſſa duro alpeſtre legno,
Guardi ciaſcun a gli occhi, ed a gli orecchi
L'entrata, chi di te ſi truova indegno;
Gratia ſola di ſu glivaglia, inanti
Che'l diſio amoroſo al cuor s'invecchi.
III.
Qual in colle aſpro, al imbrunir di ſera
L'avezza givvinetta paſtorella
Va bagnando l'herbetta ſtrana e bella
Che mal ſi ſpande a diſuſata ſpera
Fuor di ſua natia alma primavera,
Coſi amor meco inſu la lingua ſuella
Deſta il fior novo di ſtrania favella,
Mentre io di te, vezzoſamente altera,
Canto, dal mio buon popol non inteſo
E'l bel Tamigi cangio col bel Arno.
Amor lo volſe, ed io a l'altrui peſo
Seppich' Amor coſa mai volſe indarno.
Deh! foſs' il mio cuor lento e'l duro ſeno
A chi pianta dal ciel ſi buon terreno.
Canzone.
RIdonſi donne e giovani amoroſi
M' accoſtandoſi attorno, e perche ſcrivi,
Perche tu ſcrivi in lingua ignota e ſtrana
Verſeggiando d'amor, e come t'oſi?
Dinne, ſe la tua ſpeme ſia mai vana,
E de penſieri lo miglior t' arrivi;
Coſi mivan burlando, altri rivi
Altri lidi t'aſpettan, & altre onde
Nelle cui verdi ſponde
Spuntati ad hor, ad hor a la tua chioma
L'immortal guiderdon d'eterne frondi
Perche alle ſpalle tue ſoverchia ſoma?
Canzon dirotti, e tu per me riſpondi
Dice mia Donna, e'l ſuo dir, e il mio euore
Queſta e lingua di cui ſi vanta Amore.
IV.
Digdati, e te'l diro con maraviglia,
Quel ritroſo io ch'amor ſpreggiar ſolea
E de ſuoi lacci ſpeſſo mi ridea
Giacaddi, ov'huom dabben talhor s'impiglia.
Ne treecie d'oro, ne guancia vermiglia
M' abbaglian ſi, ma ſotto nova idea
Pellegrina bellezza che'l euor bea,
Portamenti alti honeſti, e nelle ciglia
Quel ſereno fulgor d' amabil nero,
Parole adorne di lingua piu d'una,
E'l cantar che di mezzo l'hemiſpero
Traviar ben puo la faticoſa Luna,
E degli occhi ſuoi auventa ſi gran fuoco
Che l'incerar gli orecchi mi fia poco.
V.
Per certo i bei voſtr'occhi, Donna mia
Eſſer non puo che non fian lo mio ſole
Si mi percuoton forte, come ei ſuole
Per l'arene di Libia chi s'invia,
Mentre un caldo vapor (ne ſenti pria)
Da quel lato ſi ſpinge ove mi duole,
Che forſe amanti nelle lor parole
Chiaman ſoſpir; io non ſo che ſi ſia:
Parte rinchiuſa, e turbida ſi cela
Scoſſo mi il petto, e poi n'uſcendo poco
Quivi d'attorno o s'agghiaccia, o s'ingiela;
Ma quanto a gli occhi giunge e trovar loco
Tutte le notti a me ſuol far piovoſe
Finche mia Alba rivien colma di roſe.
VI.
Giovane piano, e ſemplicetto amante
Pei che fuggir me ſteſſo indubbio ſono,
Madonna a voi del mio cuor l'humil dono
Faro divoto; io certo a prove tante
L'hebbi fedele, intrepido, coſtante,
De penſieri leggiadro, accorto, e buono;
Quando rugge il gran mondo, e ſcocca il tuono,
S'arma diſe, d'intero diamante,
Tanto del forſe, e d'invidia ſicuro,
Ditimori, e ſperanze al pepol uſe
Quanto d'ingegno, e d' alto valor vago,
E di cetra ſonora, e delle muſe:
Sol troverete in tal parte men duro
Ove amor miſe l'inſanabil ago.
VII.
How ſoon hath time the ſuttle theeſ of youth,
Soln on his wing my three and twentieth yeer!
My haſting dayes flie on with full career,
But my late ſpring no bud or bloſſom ſhew'th.
Perhaps my ſemblance might deceive the truth,
That I to manhood am arriv'd ſo near,
And inward ripenes doth much leſs appear,
That ſom more timely-happy ſpirits indu'th.
Yet be it leſs or more, or ſoon or ſlow,
It ſhall be ſtill in ſtricteſt meaſure eev'n,
To that ſame lot, however mean or high,
Toward which Time leads me, and the will of Heav'n;
…, if I have grace to uſe it ſo,
As ever in my great task Maſters eye.
VIII.
Captain or Colonel, or Knight in Arms,
Whoſe chance on theſe defenceleſs dores may fease,
If deed of honour did thee ever pleaſe,
Guard them, and him within protect from harms,
He can requite thee, for he knows the charms
That call Fame on ſuch gentle acts as theſe,
And he can ſpred thy Name o're Lands and Seas,
What ever clime the Suns bright circle warms.
Lift not thy ſpear againſt the Muſes Bowre,
The great Emathian Conqueror bid ſpare
The houſe of Pindarus, when Temple and Towre
Went to the ground: And the repeated air
Of ſad Electra's Poet had the power
To ſave th' Athenian Walls from ruine bare.
IX.
Lady that in the prime of earlieſt youth,
Wiſely haſt ſhun'd the broad way and the green,
And with thoſe few art eminently ſeen,
That labour up the Hill of heav'nly Truth,
The better part with Mary and with Ruth,
Choſen thou haſt, and they that overween,
And at thy growing vertues fret their ſplee…
No anger find in thee, but pity and ruth.
Thy care is fixt and zealouſly attends
To fill thy odorous Lamp with deeds of light,
And Hope that reaps not ſhame. Therefore be ſure
Thou, when the Bridegroom with his feaſtfull friends
Paſſes to bliſs at the mid hour of night,
Haſt gain'd thy entrance, Virgin wiſe and pure.
X.
Daughter to that good Earl, once Preſident
Of Englands Counſel, and her Treaſury,
Who liv'd in both, unſtain'd with gold or fee.
And left them both, more in himſelf content,
Till the ſad breaking of that Parlament
Broke him, as that diſhoneſt victory
At Chaeronea, fatal to liberty
Kill'd with report that Old man eloquent,
Though later born, then to have known the dayes
Wherin your Father flouriſht, yet by you,
Madam, me thinks I ſee him living yet;
So well your words his noble vertues praiſe,
That all both judge you to relate them true,
And to poſſeſs them, Honour'd Margaret.
XI.
A Book was was writ of late call'd Tetrachordon;
And wov'n cloſe, both matter, form and ſtile;
The Subject new: it walk'd the Town a while,
Numbring good intellects; now ſeldom por'd on.
Cries the ſtall-reader, bleſs us! what a word on
A title page is this! and ſome in file
Stand ſpelling fals, while one might walk to Mile-
End Green. Why is harder Sirs then Gordon,
Coliktto, or Macdonnel, or Galaſp?
Thoſe rugged names to our like mouths grow ſleek
That would have made Quintilian ſtare and gaſp.
Thy age, like ours, O Soul of Sir John Cheek,
Hated not Learning wors then Toad or Aſp;
When thou taught'ſt Cambridge, and King Edward Greek.
XII. On the ſame.
I did but prompt the age to quit their cloggs
By the known rules of antient libertie,
When ſtrait a barbarous noiſe environs me
Of Owles and Cuckoes, Aſſes, Apes and Doggs.
As when thoſe Hinds that were transform'd to Froggs
Raild at Latona's twin-born progenie
Which after held the Sun and Moon in fee.
But this is got by caſting Pearl to Hoggs;
That bawle for freedom in their ſenceleſs mood
And ſtill revolt when truth would ſet them … ▪
Licence they mean when they cry libertie;
For who loves that, muſt firſt be wife and good;
But from that mark how far they roave we ſee
For all this waſt of wealth, and loſs of blood.
To Mr. H. Lawes, on his Aires.
XIII.
Harry whoſe tuneful and well meaſur'd Song
Firſt taught our Engliſh Musick how to ſpan
Words with juſt note and accent, not to ſcan
With Midas Ears, committing ſhort and long;
Thy worth and skill exempts thee from the throng,
With praiſe enough for Envy to look wan;
To after age thou ſhalt be writ the man,
That with ſmooth aire couldſt humor beſt our tongu
Thou honour'ſt Verſe, and Verſe muſt ſend her wing
To honour thee, the Prieſt of Phoebus Quire
That tun'ſt their happieſt lines in Hymn, or Story.
Dante ſhall give Fame leave to ſet thee higher
Then his Caſella, whom he woo'd to ſing
Met in the milder ſhades of Purgatory.
XIV.
When Faith and Love which parted from thee never,
Had ripen'd thy juſt ſoul to dwell with God,
Meekly thou didſt reſign this earthy load
Of Death, call'd Life; which us from Life doth ſever.
Thy Works and Alms and all thy good Endeavour
Staid not behind, nor in the grave were trod;
But as Faith pointed with her golden rod,
Follow'd thee up to joy and bliſs for ever.
Love led them on, and Faith who knew them beſt
Thy hand-maids, clad them o're with purple beams
And azure wings, that up they flew ſo dreſt,
And ſpeak the truth of thee on glorious Theams
Before the Judge, who thenceforth bid thee reſt
And drink thy fill of pure immortal ſtreams.
On the late Maſſacher in Piemont.
XV.
Avenge O Lord thy ſlaughter'd Saints, whoſe bones
Lie ſcatter'd on the Alpine mountains cold,
Ev'n them who kept thy truth ſo pure of old
When all our Fathers worſhip't Stocks and Stones,
Forget not: in thy book record their groanes
Who were thy Sheep and in their antient Fold
Slayn by the bloody Piemonteſe that roll'd
Mother with Infant down the Rocks. Their … is
The Vales redoubl'd to the Hills, and they
To Heav'n. Their martyr'd blood and aſhes ſo
O're all th' Italian fields where ſtill doth ſway
The triple Tyrant: that from theſe may grow
A hunder'd-fold, who having learnt thy way
Early may fly the Babylonian wo.
XVI.
When I conſider how my light is ſpent,
E're half my days, in this dark world and wide,
And that one Talent which is death to hide,
Lodg'd with me uſeleſs, though my Soul more bent
To ſerve therewith my Maker, and preſent
My true account, leaſt he returning chide,
Doth God exact day labour, light deny'd,
I fondly ask; But patience to prevent
That murmur, ſoon replies, God doth not need
Either man's work or his own gifts, who beſt
Bear his milde yoak, they ſerve him beſt, his State
Is Kingly. Thouſands at his bidding ſpeed
And poſt o're Land and Ocean without reſt:
They alſo ſerve who only ſtand and waite.
XVII.
I w…e of vertuous Father vertuous Son,
Now that the Fields are dank, and ways are mire,
Where ſhall we ſometimes meet, and by the fire
Help waſt a ſullen day; what may be won
From the hard Seaſon gaining: time will run
On ſmoother, till Favonius re-inſpire
The frozen earth; and cloth in freſh attire
The Lillie and Roſe, that neither ſow'd nor ſpun.
What neat repaſt ſhall feaſt us, light and choice,
Of Attick taſt, with Wine, whence we may riſe
To hear the Lute well toucht, or artfull voice
Warble immortal Notes and Tuskan Ayre?
He who of thoſe delights can judge, And ſpare
To interpoſe them oft, is not unwiſe.
XVIII.
Cyriack, whoſe Grandſire on the Royal Bench
Of Brittiſh Themis, with with no mean applauſe
Pronounc't and in his volumes taught our Lawes,
Which others at their Barr ſo often wrench;
To day deep thoughts reſolve with me to drench
In mirth, that after no repenting drawes;
Let Euclid reſt and Archimedes pauſe,
And what the Swede intend, and what the French.
To meaſure life, learn thou betimes, and know
Toward ſolid good what leads the neareſt way
For other things mild Heav'n a time ordains,
And diſapproves that care, though wiſe in ſhow,
That with ſuperfluous burden loads the day,
And when God ſends a cheerful hour, refrains.
XIX.
Methought I ſaw my late eſpouſed Saint
Brought to me like Alceſtis from the grave,
Whom Joves great Son to her glad Husband gave,
Reſcu'd from death by force though pale and faint.
Mine as whom waſht from ſpot of child-bed taint,
Purification in the old Law did ſave,
And ſuch, as yet once more I truſt to have
Full ſight of her in Heaven without reſtraint,
Came veſted all in white, pure as her mind:
Her face was vail'd, yet to my fancied ſight,
Love, ſweetneſs, goodneſs, in her perſon ſhin'd
So clear, as in no face with more delight.
But O as to embrace me ſhe enclin'd
I wak'd, ſhe fled, and day brought back my night.
The Fifth Ode of Horace. Lib. I.
Quis multa gracilis te puer in Roſa,
Rendred almost word for word without Rhyme according to the Latin Meaſure, as near as the Language will permit.
WHat ſlender Youth bedew'd with liquid odours
Courts thee on Roſes in ſome pleaſant Cave,
Pyrrha for whom bindſt thou
In wreaths thy golden Hair,
Plain in thy neatneſs; O how oft ſhall he
On Faith and changed Gods complain: and Seas
Rough with black winds and ſtorms
Unwonted ſhall admire:
Who now enjoyes thee credulous, all Gold,
Who alwayes vacant alwayes amiable
Hopes thee; of flattering gales
Unmindfull. Hapleſs they
To whom thou untry'd ſeem'ſt fair. Me in my vow'd
Picture the ſacred wall declares t'have hung
My dank and dropping weeds
To the ſtern God of Sea.
AD PYRRHAM. Ode V.
Horatius ex Pyrrhae illecebris tanquam e naufragio enataverat, cujus amore irretitos, affirmat eſſe miſeros..
QUis multa gracilis te puer in roſa
Perfuſus liquidis urget odoribus,
Grato, Pyrrha, ſub antro?
Cui flavam religas comam
Simplex munditie? heu quoties fidem
Mutatoſque deos flebit, & aſpera
Nigris aequora ventis
Emirabitur inſolens,
Qui nunc te fruitur credulus aurea:
Qui ſemper vacuam, ſemper amabilem
Sperat, neſcius aurae
Fallacis. miſeri quibus
Intentata nites. me tabula ſacer
Votiva paries indicat uvida
Suſpendiſſe potenti
Veſtimenta maris Deo.