No More Learning

Unhappy ! shall we never more
That sweet militia restore,
When gardens only had their towers,
And all the garrisons were flowers.
When roses only arms might bear.
And men did rosy garlands wear ?
Tulips, in several colours barred,
Were then the Switzers of our guard ;
The gardener had the soldier's place.
And his more gentle forts did trace ;
The nui-sery of all things green
Was then the only magazine ;
The winter quarters were the stoves,
Where he the tender plants removes.
But war all this doth overgrow :
We ordnance plant, and powder sow.
And yet there walks one on the sod.



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OF MARVELL. 15

Who, had it pleased him and God,

Might once have made our gardens spring,

Fresh as his own, and flourishing.

But he preferred to the Cinque Ports,

These ^vq imaginary forts, sm

And, in those half-dry trenches, spanned

Power which the ocean might command.

For he did, with his utmost skill.

Ambition weed, but conscience till, —

Conscience, that heaven-nursed plant, 333

Which most our earthly gardens want.

A prickling leaf it bears, and such

As that which shrinks at every touch,

But flowers eternal, and divine,

Which in the crowns of Saints do shine. 3»

The sight does from these bastions ply,
The invisible artillery.
And at proud Cawood Castle seems
To point the battery of its beams,
As if it quarrelled in the seat, xa

The ambition of his prelate great,
But o'er the meads below it plays,
Or innocently seems to gaze.
And now to the abyss I pass
Of that unfathomable grass, 370

Where men like grasshoppers appear,
But grasshoppers are giants there :
They, in their squeaking laugh, contemn
Us as we walk more low than them,



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20 THE POEMS

And from the precipices tall
Of the green spires to us do call.
To see men through this meadow dive,
We wonder how they rise alive ;
As under water, none does know
Whether he fall through it or go,
But, as the mariners who sound,
And show upon their lead the ground,
They bring up flowers so to be seen,
And prove they've at the bottom been.
No scene, that turns with engines strange,
Does oftener than these meadows change ;
For when the sun the gi-ass hath vexed.
The tawny mowers enter next.
Who seem like Israelites to be,
Walking on foot through a green sea.
To them the grassy deeps divide,
And crowd a lane to either side ;
With whistling scythe and elbow strong
These massacre the grass along,
While one, unknowing, carves the rail.
Whose yet unfeathered quills her fail ;
The edge all bloody from its breast
He draws, and does In's stroke detest.
Fearing the flesh, untimely mowed.
To him a fate as black forebode.
But bloody Thestylis, that waits
To bring the mowing camp their cates,
Greedy as kite, has trussed it up
And forthwith means on it to sup.



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OF MARVELL. 21

When on another quick she lights^ ^

And cries, " he calFd us Israelites ;

But now, to make his saying true^

Rails rain for quails, for manna dew. "

Unhappy biixls ! what docs it boot

To build below the grass's root ; <i»

When lowness is unsafe as height^

And chance overtakes Avhat 'scapeth spite ?

And now your orphan parent's call

Sounds your untimely funeral ;

Death-trumpets creak in such a note, 415

And 'tis the sourdine in their throat.

Or sooner hatch, or higher build ;

The mower now commands the field ;

In whose new traverse seemeth wrought

A camp of battle newly fought, <»

Where, as the meads with hay, the plain

Lies quilted o'er with bodies slain :

The women that with forks it fling.

Do represent the pillaging.

And now the careless victors play, *»

Dancing the triumphs of the hay,

Where every mower's wholesome heat

Smells like an Alexander's sweat,

Their females fragrant as the mead

Which they in fairy ciixiles tread : *»

When at their dance's end they kiss,

Their new-made hay not sweeter is ;

When, after this, 'tis piled in cocks.

Like a calm sea it shews the rocks ;



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22 THE POEMS.

We wondering in the river near «»

How l>oat8 among them safely steer ;

Or, like the desert Memphis' sand,

Short pyramids of hay do stand ;

And such the Roman camps do rise

In hills for soldiers' obsequies. *^

This scene, again withdrawing, brings
A new and empty face of things ;
A levelled space, as smooth and plain,
As cloths for Lilly * stretched to stain.
The world when first created sure «»

Was such a table rase and pure ;
Or rather such is the Toril,
Ere the bulls enter at Madril ;
For to this naked equal flat,
Which levellers take pattern at, 46o

The villagers in common chase
Their cattle, which it closer rase ;
And what below the scythe increased
Is pinched yet nearer by the beast.
Such, in the painted world, appeared 455

Davenant, with the universal herd.
They seem within the polished grass
A landscape drawn in looking-glass ;
And shrunk in the huge pasture, show
As spots, so shaped, on faces do ; 4(. o

Such fleas, ere they approach the eye,
In multiplying glasses lie.

• An eminent cloth dyer.



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OP MARVELL. 23

They feed so wide, so slowly move,

As constellations do above.

Then, to conclude these pleasant acts, *S6

Denton sets ope its cataracts ;

And makes the meadow truly be

(What it but seemed before) a sea ;

For, jealous of its Lord's long stay,

It tries to invite him thus away. *t

The river in itself is drowned.

And isles the astonished cattle round.

Let others tell the paradox.
How eels now bellow in the ox ;
How horses at their tails do kick, 47s

Turned, as they hang, to leeches quick ;.
How boats can over bridges sail,
And fishes to the stables scale ;
How salmons trespassing are found.
And pikes are taken in the pound ; ««

But I, retiring from the flood.
Take sanctuary in the wood ;
And, while it lastf! , myself embark
In this yet green, yet growing ark.
Where the first carpenter might best 48s

Fit timber for his keel have pressed,
And where all creatures might have shares.
Although in armies, not in pairs.
The double wood, of ancient stocks.
Linked in so thick an union locks, <»

It like two pedigrees appears,



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tJ4 THE POEMS.

On one hand Fairfax, t'other Veres :

Of whom though many fell in war,

Yet more to heaven shooting are :

And, as tliey Nature's cradle decked,

Will, in green age, her hearse expect

When first the eye this forest sees,

It seems indeed as wood, not trees ;

As if their neighbourhood so old

To one great trunk them all did mould.

There the huge bulk takes place, as meant

To thrust up a fifth element.

And stretches still so closely wedged,

As if the night within were hedged.

Dark all without it knits ; within

It opens passable and thin.

And in as loose an order gix)W8,

As the Corinthian porticos.

The arching boughs unite between

The columns of the temple green,

And underneath the winged quires

p]cho about their tuned fires.

TJie nightingale does here make choice

To sing the trials of her voice ;

Low shrubs she sits in, and adorns

With music high the squatted thorns ;

But highest oaks stoop down to hear,

And listening elders prick the ear ;

The thorn, lest it should hurt her, draws

Within the skin its shrunken claws.

But I have for my music found



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OF MARVELL. 25

A sadder, yet more pleasing sound ;

The stock-doves, whose fair necks are graced

With nuptial rings, their ensigns chaste,

Yet always, for some cause unknown, ««

Sad pair, unto the elms they moan.

why should such a couple mourn,

That in so equal flames do bui*n !

Then as I careless on the bed

Of gelid strawberries do tread, 5»

And through the hazels thick espy

The hatching throstle's shining eye,

The heron, from the ash's top,

The eldest of its young lets drop.

As if it stork-like did pretend mj

That tribute to its lord to send.

But most the heweFs wonders are,

Who here has the holtselster's care ;

He walks still upright from the root,

Measuring the timber with his foot, 540

And all the way, to keep it clean,

Doth from the bark the wood-moths glean ;

He, with his beak, examines well

Which fit to stand, and which to fell ;

The good he numbers up, and hacks 545

As if he marked them with an axe ;

But where he, tinkling with his beak.

Does find the hollow oak to speak,

That for his building he designs,

And through the tainted side he mines. sso

Who could have thought the tallest oak



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26 THE POEMS

Should fall by s;uch a feeble stroke ?
Nor would it, had the tree not fed
A traitor worm, within it bred,
(As first our flesh, corrupt within,
Tempts impotent and bashful sin,)
And yet that worm triumphs not long,
But serves to feed the hewel's young.
While the oak seems to fall content,
Viewing the treason's punishments

Thus, I, easy philosopher,
Among the birds and trees confer,
And little now to make me wants
Or of the fowls, or of the plants :
Give me but wings as they, and I
Straight floating on the air shall fly ;
Or turn me but, and you shall see
I was but an inverted tree.
Already 1 begin to call
In their most learned original,
And, where I language want, my signs
The bird upon the bough divines.
And more attentive there doth sit
Than if she were with lime-twigs knit. .
No leaf does tremble in the wind.
Which I returning cannot find ;
Out of these scattered Sibyl's leaves,
Strange prophecies my fancy weaves,
And in one history consumes.
Like Mexique paintings, all the plumes ;



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OF MARVELL. 27

What Rome, Greece, Palestine, e'er said,

I in this light Mosaic read.

Thrice happy he, who, not mistook.

Hath read in nature's mystic book I

And see how chance's better wit sss

Could with a mask my studies hit !

The oak-leaves me embroider all.

Between which caterpillars crawl ;

And ivy, with familiar trails.

Me licks and clasps, and curls and hales. &»

Under this Attic cope I move.

Like some great prelate of the grove ;

Then, languishing with ease, I toss

On pallets swoln of velvet moss.

While the wind, cooling through the boughs, s»

Flatters with air my panting brows.

Thanks for my rest, ye mossy banks,

And unto you, cool zephyrs, thanks.

Who, as my hair, my thoughts too shed,

And winnow from the chaff my head ! ew

How safe, methinks, and strong behind
These trees, have I encamped my mind,
Where beauty, aiming at the heart,
Bends in some tree its useless dart.
And where the world no certain shot eos

Can make, or me it toucheth not,
But 1 on it securely play,
And gall its horsemen all the day.
Bind me, }e woodbines, in )*our twines,



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28 THE POEMS

Curl me about, ye gadding vines,

And oh so close your circles lace.

That I may never leave this place !

But, lest your fettei-s prove too weak,

Ere I your silken bondage break,

Do you, O brambles, chain me too,

And, courteous briars, nail me through !

Here in the morning tie my chain.

Where the two woods have made a lane,

While, like a guard on either side.

The trees before their Lord divide ;

This, like a long and equal thread,

BetAvixt two labyrinths does lead.

But, where the floods did lately drown,

There at the evening stake me down ;

For now the waves are fallen and dried,

And now the meadows fresher dyed,

Whose grass, with moister colour dashed.

Seems as green silks but newly washed.

No serpent new, nor crocodile,

Remains behind our little Nile,

Unless itself you will mistake,

Among these meads the only snake.

See in what wanton harmless folds.

It everywhere the meadow holds.

And its yet muddy back doth lick,

'Till as a crystal mirror slick.

Where all things gaze themselves, and doubt

If they be in it, or without.

And for his shade which therein shines.



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OF MARVELL. 2D

Narcissus-like, the sun too pines. •«>

Oh what a pleasure 'tis to hedge

My temples here with heavy sedge,

Abandoning my lazy side,

Stretched as a bank unto the tide,

Or to suspend my sliding foot «5

On the osier's undermined root,

And in its branches tough to hang.

While at my lines the fishes twang I

But now away my hooks, my quills.

And angles, idle utensils ! «3»

The young Maria walks to-night :

Hide, trifling youth, thy pleasures slight ;

'Twere shame that such judicious eyes

Should with such toys a man surprise ;

She that already is the law «»

Of all her sex, her age's awe.

See how loose nature, in respect

To her, itself doth recollect,

And every thing so washed and fine,

Starts forth with it to its bonne mine. •»

The sun himself of her aware.

Seems to descend with greater care.

And, lest she see him go to bed.

In blushing clouds conceals his head.

So when the shadows laid asleep, ms

From underneath these banks do creep,

And on the river, as it flows.

With ebon shuts begin to close.

The modest halcyon comes in sight,



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6{) THE POEMS

Fljring betwixt the day and night.

And such a horror calm and dumb,

Admiring nature does benumb ;

The viscous air, where'er she flj,

Follows and sucks her azure dye ;

The jellying stream compacts below,

If it might fix her shadow so ;

The stupid fishes hang, as plain

As flies in crystal overtaken.

And men the silent scene assist,

Charmed with the sapphire-winged mist;—

Maria, such, and so doth hush

The world, and through the evening rusk.

No new-born comet such a train

Draws through the sky, nor star new slain.

For straight those giddy rockets fail,

Which from the putrid earth exhale,

But by her flames, in heaven tried.

Nature is wholly vitrified.

'Tis she, that to these gardens gave

That wondrous beauty which they have ;

She straightness on the woods bestows ;

To her the meadow sweetness owes ;

Nothing could make the river be

So crystal pui*e, but only she.

She yet more pure, sweet, straight, and fair

Than gardens, woods, meads, rivers are.

Therefore what fii-st she on them spent.

They gratefully again present;

The meadow carpets where to tread,



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OP MARVELL. 31

The garden flowers to crown her head, "*>

And for a glass the limpid brook,

Where she may all her beauties look,

But, since she would not have them seen,

The wood about her draws a screen.

For she to higher beauties raised, 705

Disdains to be for lesser praised.

She counts her beauty to converse

In all the languages as hers ;

Nor yet in those herself employs,

But for the wisdom not the noise ; tio

Nor yet that wisdom would affect.

But as 'tis heaven's dialect.

Blest nymph ! that couldst so soon prevent

Those trains by youth against thee meant ;

Tears (wateiy shot that pierce the mind,) ^w

And sighs (love's cannon chai'ged with wind ;)

True praise (that breaks through all defence,)

And feigned complying innocence ;

But knowing where this ambush lay,

She 'scaped the safe, but roughest way. f^

This 'tis to have been from the first

In a domestic heaven nursed.

Under the discipline severe

Of Fairfax, and the starry Verb,

Where not one object can come nigh tsb

But pure, and spotless as the eye.

And goodness doth itself entail

On females, if there want a male.



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32 THE POEMS

Go now, fond sex, that on your face
Do all your useless study place.
Nor once at vice your brows dare knit.
Lest the smooth forehead wrinkled sit :
Yet your own face shall at you grin.
Thorough the black bag of your skin.
When knowledge only could have filled,
And virtue all those furrows tilled.
Hence she with graces more divine
Supplies beyond her sex the line,
And, like a sprig of misletoe.
On the Fairfacian oak does grow.
Whence, for some universal good,
The priest shall cut the sacred bud.
While her glad parents most rejoice
And make their destiny their choice.
Meantime, ye fields, springs, bushes, flowers.
Where yet she leads her studious houi-s,
(Till Fate her worthily translates
And find a Fairfax for our Thwates,)
Employ the means you have by her.
And in your kind yourselves prefer.
That, as all virgins she precedes,
So you all woods, streams, gardens, meads.
For you, Thessalian Tempe's seat
Shall now be scorned as obsolete ;
Aranjuez, as less, disdained ;
The Bel-Retiro, as constrained ;
But name not the Idalian grove.
For 'twas the seat of wanton love ;



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OF MARVELL. 33



Nor e'en the dead's Eljsian fields,
Yet not to them your beauty yields.
Tis not, as once appeared the world,
A heap confused together hurled,
All negligently overgrown,
Gulfs, deserts, precipices, stone ;
Your lesser world contains the same.
But in more decent order tame.
You, Heaven's centre, Nature's lap ;
And Paradise's only map.

And now the salmon-fishers moist,
Their leathern boats begin to hoist ;
And, like Antipodes in shoes.
Have shod their heads in their canoes.
How tortoise-like, but not so slow.
These rational amphibii go !
Let's in ; for the dark hemisphere
Does now like one of them appear.



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34 THK POEMS



THE CORONET.

When with the thorns with which I long, too
long,
With many a piercing wound,
My Saviour's head have crowned,

I seek with garlands to redress that wrong, —
Through every garden, every mead,

I gather flowers (my fruits are only flowers)
Dismantling all the fragrant towers

That once adorned my shepherdess's head :

And now, when I have summed up all my store.
Thinking (so I myself deceive)
So rich a chaplet thence- to weave

As never yet the King of Glory wore,
Alas ! I And the Serpent old,
Twining in his speckled breast.
About the flowers disguised does fold,
With wreaths of fame and interest.

Ah foolish man, that would'st debase with them,

And mortal glory. Heaven's diadem !

But thou who only could'st the Serpcmt tame.



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OF MARVELL. 35

Either his slippery knots at once untie,
And disentangle all his winding snare,
Or shatter too with him my curious frame,
And let these wither so that he may die,
Though set with skill, and chosen out with care,
That they, while thou on both their spoils dost

tread,
May crown thy feet, that could not crown thy

bead.



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36 THE POEMS



EYES AND TEARS.

How wisely Nature did decree,
With the same eyes to weep and see,
That, having viewed the object vain,
They might be ready to complain !
And, since the self-deluding sight.
In a false angle takes each height.
These tears, which better measure all.
Like watery lines and plummets fall.
Two tears, which sorrow long did weigh.
Within the scales of either eye,
And then paid out in equal poise.
Are the true price of all my joys.
What in the world most fair appears.
Yea, even laughter, turns to tears.
And all the jewels which we prize.
Melt in these pendants of the eyes.
I have through every garden been,
Amongst the red, the white, the green,
And yet from all those flowers I saiv,
No honey, but these tears could draw.



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OF MAKVELL. 37

So the all-seeing sun each day,
Distils the world with chymic ray,
But finds the essence only showers,
Which straight in pity back he pours.
Yet happy they whom grief doth bless,
That weep the more, and see the less,
And, to preserve their sight more true.
Bathe still their eyes in their own dew.
So Magdalen in tears more wise
Dissolved those captivating eyes.
Whose liquid chains could flowing meet
To fetter her Redeemer's feet.
Not full sails hasting loaden home.
Nor the chaste lady's pregnant womb,
Nor Cynthia teeming shows so fair
As two eyes swollen with weeping are.
The sparkling glance that shoots desire.
Drenched in these waves, does lose its fire,
Yea oft the Thunderer pity takes.
And here the hissing lightning slakes.
The incense was to heaven dear,
Not as a perfume, but a tear.
And stars shew lovely in the night,
But as they seem the tears of light.
Ope then, mine eyes, your double sluice,
And practise so your noblest use ;
For others too can see, or sleep.
But only human eyes can weep.
Now, like two clouds dissolving, drop,
And at each tear, in distance stop ;



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38 THE POEMS

Now, like two fountains, trickle down ;
Now like two floods o*errun and drown :
Thus let your streams overflow your spring. ^,
Till eyes and tears be the same things,
And each the other's difference bears,
These weeping eyes, those seeing tears.



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OP MARVELL. 39



BERMUDAS.

Where the remote Bermudas ride,
In the ocean's bosom un espied,
From a small boat, that rowed along,
The listening winds received this song.

" What should we do but sing his praise,
That led us through the watery maze,
Unto an isle so long unknown.
And yet far kinder than our own ?
Where he the huge sea-monsters wracks.
That lift the deep upon their backs.
He lands us on a grassy stage,
Safe from the storms, and prelate's rage.
He gave us this eternal spring,
Which here enamels every thing.
And sends the fowls to us in care.
On daily visits through the air ;
He hangs in shades the orange bright.
Like golden lamps in a green night.
And doc^ in the pomegranates close.
Jewels more rich than Ormus shows ;



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iO THE POEXS

He makes tbe figs oor moaths to meet.
And throws tbe melons at oor feet.
But apples plants cff such a price.
No tree could ever bear tbem twice ;
With cedars cbosen bj his hand.
From Lebanon, he stores tbe land.
And makes tbe hollow seas, that roar,
Proclaim the ambergrease on shore ;
He cast (of which we rather boast)
The Gospel's pearl upon our coast.
And in these rocks for us did frame
A temple where to sound his name.
Oh ! let our voice his prabe exalt,
'Till it arrive at heaven's vault.
Which, then (perhaps) rebounding, may
Echo beyond the Mexique Bay. "

Thus sung they, in the English boat,
A holy and a cheerful note.
And all the way, to guide their chime,
With falling oars they kept the time.



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OF MABVELL. 41



CLORINDA AND DAMON.

OLORINDA.

Damon, come drive thy flocks this way.

DAMON.

No : 'tis too late they went astray.

CLOBINDA.

I have a grassy scutcheon spied,
Where Flora blazons all her pride ;
The grass I aim to feast thy sheep,
The flowers I for thy temples keep.

DAMON.

Grass withers, and the flowers too fade.

CLORINDA.

Seize the short joys then, ere they vade.
Seest thou that unfrequented cave ?

DAMON.

That den ?



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42 TH£ POEMS

CLORINDA.

Love's shrine.

DAMON.

But virtue's grave.

CLORINDA.

In whose cool bosom we may lie,
Safe from the sun.

DAMON.

Not heaven's eye.

CLORINDA.

Near this, a fountain's liquid bell
Tinkles within the concave shell.

DAMON.

Might a soul bathe there and be clean,
Or slake its drought ?

CLORINDA.

What is't you mean ?

DAMON.

Clorinda, pastures, caves, and springs,
These once had been enticing things.

CLORINDA.

And what late chan«:e ?



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Pan met mo.



or MARVELL. 4'3

DAMON.

The other day

OLORINDA.

What did great Pan say ?



DAMON.

Words that transcend poor shepherd's skill ;
But he e'er since my songs does fill.
And his name swells my slender oat.

CLOBINDA.

Sweet must Pan sound in Damon'is note.

DAMON.

Clorinda's voice might make it sweet.

CLORINDA.

Who would not in Pan's praises meet ?

CHORUS.

Of Pan the flowery pastures sing,
Caves echo, and the fountains ring.
Sing then while he doth us inspire ;
For all the world is our Pan's quire.



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44 THE POEMS



A DIALOGUE BETWEEN THE SOUL AND
BODY.

SOUL.

O who shall from this dungeon raise
A soul enslaved so many ways ?
With bolts of bones, that fettered stands
In feet, . and manacled in hands ;
Here blinded with an eye, and there
Deaf with the drumming of an ear ;
A soul hung up, as 'twere, in chains
Of nerves, and arteries, and veins ;
Tortured, besides each other part,
In a vain head, and double heart ?

BODY.

O who shall me deliver whole.
From bonds of this tyrannic soul.
Which, stretched upright, impales me so
That mine own precipice I go,
And warms and moves this needless frame,
(A fever could but do the same,)
And, wanting where its spite to try.
Has made me live to let me die



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OF MARVELL. 45

A body that could never rest,
Since this ill spirit it possessed ?

SOUL.

What magic could me thus confine
Within another^s grief to pine,
Where, whatsoever it complain,
I feel, that cannot feel, the pain^
And all my care itself employs,
That to preserve, which me destroys ;
Constrained not only to endure
Diseases, but, what's worse, the cure ;
And, ready oil the port to gain.
Am shipwrecked into health again ?

BODY.

But Physic yet could never reach
The maladies thou me dost teach.
Whom first the cramp of hope does tear,.
And then the palsy shakes of fear ;
The pestilence of love does heat.
Or hatred's hidden ulcer eat ;
Joy's cheerful madness does perplex,.
Or sorrow's other madness vex ;
Which knowledge forces me to know,
And memory will not forego ;
What but a soul could have the wit
To build me up for sin so fit?
So architects do squai*c and hew
Green trees that in the forest grew.



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46 THE POEMS



THE NYMPH COMPLAINING FOR THE
DEATH OF HER FAWN.

The wanton troopers riding by,
Have shot my fawn, and it will die.
Ungentle men ! they cannot thrive
Who killed thee. Thou ne'er didst alive
Them any harm, alas ! nor could
Thy death yet do them any good.
I'm sure I never wished them ill ;
Nor do I for all this, nor will :
But, if my simple prayers may yet
Prevail with heaven to forget
Thy murder, I will join my tears.
Rather than fail. But, O my fears !
It cannot die so. Heaven's king
Keeps register of every thing,
And nothing may we use in vain ;
Even beasts must be with justice slain.
Else men are made their deodands.
Though they should wash their guilty hands
In this warm life-blood which doth part
From thine and wound me to the hcurt.



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OP MAR V ELL.

Yet could they not be clean, their stain
Is dyed in such a purple grain.
There is not such another in
The world, to oflfer for their sin.

Inconstant Stlvio, when yet
I had not found him counterfeit.
One morning (I remember well)
Tied in this silver chain and bell.
Gave it to me : nay, and I know
What he said then, I'm sure I do ;
Said he, ' Look how your huntsman here
' Hath taught a fawn to hunt his deer. '
But Sylyio soon had me beguiled ;
This waxed tame, while he grew wild,
And quite regardless of my smart,
Left me his fawn, but took his heart.

Thenceforth I set myself to play
My solitary time away
With this ; and, very well content.
Could so mine idle life have spent ;
For it was full of sport, and light
Of foot and heart, and did invite
Me to its game : it seemed to bless
Itself in me ; how could I less
Than love it ? 01 cannot be
Unkind to a beast that loveth me.

Had it lived long, I do not know
Whether it too might have done so



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48 THE POEMS

As Sylyio did ; his gifts might be
Perhaps as false, or more, than he ;
But I am sure, for aught that I
Could in so short a time espj.
Thy love was far more better than
The love of fabe and cruel man.

With sweetest milk and sugar first
I it at my own fingers nursed ;
And as it grew, so every day
It waxed more white and sweet than they.
It had so sweet a breath I And ofl
I blushed to see its foot more soft
And white, shall I say than my hand ?
Nay, any lady's of the land.

It is a wond'rous thing how fleet
Twas on those little silver feet ;
With what a pretty skipping grace
It oft would challenge me the race ;
And, when it had left me far away,
*Twould stay, and run again, and stay ;
For it was nimbler much than hinds.
And trod as if on the four winds.

I have a garden of my own,
But so with roses overgrown,
And lilies, that you would it guess
To be a little wilderness.
And all the spring time of the year
It only loved to be there.



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OF MARVELL. 49

Among the beds of lilies I
Have sought it of^, where it should lie.
Yet could not, till itself would rise,
Find it, although before mine eyes ;,
For, in the flaxen lilies' shade.
It like a bank of lilies laid.
Upon the roses it would feed,
Until its lips e'en seemed to bleed,
And then to me 'twould boldly trip,.
And print those roses on my lip.
But all its chief delight was still
On roses thus itself to fill,
And its pure virgin limbs to fold
In whitest sheets of lilies cold :
Had it lived long, it would have been
Lilies without, roses within.

help ! O help ! I see it faint
And die as calmly as a saint !

See how it weeps ! the tears do come
Sad, slowly, dropping like a gum.
So weeps the wounded balsam ; so
The holy frankincense doth flow ;
The brotherless Heliades
Melt in such amber tears as these.

1 in a golden vial will

Keep these two crystal tears, and fill
It till it doth overflow with mine,
Then place it in Diana's shrine.
4



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50 THE P0KM6

Now my sweet fawn is vanish'd to
Whither the swans and turtles go ;
In fair Elysium to endure,
With milk-white lambs, and ermines pure.
O do not run too fast : for I
Will but bespeak thy grave, and die.

First, my unhappy statue shall
Be cut in marble ; and withal, t

Let it be weeping too ; but there
The engraver sure his art may spare ;
For I so truly thee bemoan,
That I shall weep, though I be stone,
Until my tears, still dropping, wear
My breast, themselves engraving there ;
Then at my feet shalt thou be laid,
Of purest alabaster made ;
For I would have thine image be
White as I can, though not as thee.



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OP MARVELL. 51



YOUNG LOVE.



Come, little infant, love me now,
While thine unsuspected years

Clear thine aged father's brow
From cold jealousy and fears.

II.
Pretty surely 'twere to see

By young Love old Time beguiled,
While our sportings are as free

As the nurse's with the child.

III.
Common beauties stay fifteen ;

Such as yours should swifter move,
Whose fair blossoms are too green

Yet for lust, but not for love.

iv.
Love as much the snowy lamb.

Or the wanton kid, does prize,
As the lusty bull or ram,

For his morning sacrifice.



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62 THE POEMS



y.
Now then love me : Time may take

Thee before thy time away ;
Of this need we'll virtue make.

And learn love before we may.

VI.

So we win of doubtful fate,

Andy if good to us she meant,

We that good shall antedate.
Or, if ill, that ill prevent

vn.
Thus do kingdoms, frustrating

Other titles to their crown.
In the cradle crown their king,

So all foreign claims to drown.

Vlll.

So to make all rivals vain.

Now I crown thee with my love :
Crown me with thy love again.

And we both shall monarchs prove.



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OP MARVELL. 53



TO HIS COY HISTRESa

Had we but world enough, and time,
This coyness, lady, were no crime.
We would sit down, and think which way
To walk, and pass our long love's day.
Thou by the Indian Ganges' side
Should'st rubies find : I by the tide
Of Humber would complain. I would
Love you ten years before the fiood.
And you should, if you please, refuse
Till the conversion of the Jews ;
My vegetable love should grow
Vaster than empires and more slow ;
An hundred years should go to praise
Thine eyes, and on thy forehead gaze ;
Two hundred to adore each breast,
But thirty thousand to the rest ;
An age at least to every part,
And the last age should show your heart.
For, lady, you deserve this state.
Nor would I love at lower rate.



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54 THE POEMS

But at my back I always hear
Time's winged chariot hurrying near,
And yonder all before us lie
Deserts of vast eternity.
Thy beauty shall no more be found.
Nor, in thy marble vault, shall sound
My echoing song : then worms shall try
That long preserved virginity.
And your quaint honour turn to dust,
And into ashes all my lust :
The grave's a fine and private place.
But none, I think, do there embrace.

Now therefore, while the youtliful hue
Sits on thy skin like morning dew.
And while thy willing soul transpires
At every pore with instant fires,
Now let us sport us while we may.
And now, like amorous birds of prey
Rather at once our time devour.
Than languish in his slow-chaped power.
Let us roll all our strength and all
Our sweetness up into one ball.
And tear our pleasures with rough strife.
Thorough the iron gates of life ;
Thus, though we cannot make our sun
Stand still, yet we will make him run.



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OF MARYZLL. 55



THE UNFORTUNATE LOVER.

Alas ! how pleasant are their days,
With whom the infant love yet plays 1
Sorted by pairs, they still are seen
By fountains cool and shadows green ;
But soon these flames do lose their light,
Like meteors of a summer's night ;
Nor can they to that region climb,
To make impression upon time.
'Twas in a shipwreck, when the seas
Ruled, and the winds did what they please,
That my poor lover floating lay.
And, ere brought forth, was cast away ;
Till at the last the master wave
Upon the rock his mother drave,
And there she split against the stone.
In a Csesarian section.
The sea him lent these bitter tears,
Which at his eyes he always beai*s,
And from the winds the sighs he bore.
Which through his surging breast do roar ;



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56 THE POEMS

No day he saw but that which breaks
Through frighted clouds in forked streaks,
While round the rattling thunder hurled,
As at the funeral of the world.
While nature to his birth presents
This masque of quarrelling elements,
A numerous fleet of cormorants black,
That sailed insulting o'er the wrack,
Received into their cruel care.