lucasta-第29章
按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！
ur un…understanding issue now； In a glad sigh； a smile； a tear； a vow。
II。 Tell me； O self…reviving Sun； In thy perigrination Hast thou beheld a pair Twist their soft beams like these in their chast air？ As from bright numberlesse imbracing rayes Are sprung th' industrious dayes； So when they gaze； And change their fertile eyes with the new morn； A beauteous offspring is shot forth； not born。
III。 Be witness then； all…seeing Sun； Old spy； thou that thy race hast run In full five thousand rings； To thee were ever purer offerings Sent on the wings of Faith？ and thou； O Night； Curtain of their delight； By these made bright； Have you not mark'd their coelestial play； And no more peek'd the gayeties of day？
IV。 Come then； pale virgins； roses strow； Mingled with Ios as you go。 The snowy ox is kill'd； The fane with pros'lyte lads and lasses fill'd； You too may hope the same seraphic joy； Old time cannot destroy； Nor fulnesse cloy； When； like these； you shall stamp by sympathies Thousands of new…born…loves with your chaste eyes。
Lovelace was connected with the Stanleys through the Auchers。 The Kentish families； about this time； intermarried with each other to a very large extent； partly to indemnify themselves from the consequences of gravelkind tenure （though many had procured parliamentary relief）； and the Lovelaces； the Stanleys； the Hammonds； the Sandyses； were all more or less bound together by the ties of kindred。 See the tree prefixed by Sir Egerton Brydges to his edition of HAMMOND'S POEMS； 1816； and the Introduction to STANLEY'S POEMS； 1814。 Sir William Lovelace； the poet's grandfather； married Elizabeth； daughter of Edward Aucher； Esq。； of Bishopsbourne； near Canterbury； while Sir William Hammond； of St。 Alban's Court； married； as his second wife； Elizabeth； daughter of Anthony Aucher； Esq。； of Bishopsbourne； by whom he had； among other children； Mary； who became the wife of Sir Thomas Stanley； of Cumberlow； father of Thomas Stanley； the poet； historian； and translator of Bion； &c。
See THE POEMS OF WILLIAM HAMMOND； 1655； edited by Sir E。 Brydges； 1816； p。 54； where there is a similar poem on Stanley and his bride from the pen of Hammond； who also claimed relationship with the then newly…married poet。 The best account of Stanley is in the reprint of his Poems and Translations； 1814； 8vo。
Meaning that the earth had made 5000 revolutions round the sun； or； in other words； that the sun was 5000 years old。
Original reads AND THOU OF NIGHT。
ON SANAZAR'S BEING HONOURED WITH SIX HUNDRED DUCKETS BY THE CLARISSIMI OF VENICE； FOR COMPOSING AN ELIGIACK HEXASTICK OF THE CITY。
A SATYRE。
Twas a blith prince exchang'd five hundred crowns For a fair turnip。 Dig； dig on； O clowns But how this comes about； Fates； can you tell； This more then Maid of Meurs； this miracle？ Let me not live； if I think not St。 Mark Has all the oar； as well as beasts； in's ark！ No wonder 'tis he marries the rich sea； But to betroth him to nak'd Poesie； And with a bankrupt muse to merchandise； His treasures beams； sure； have put out his eyes。 His conquest at Lepanto I'l let pass； When the sick sea with turbants night…cap'd was； And now at Candie his full courage shown； That wan'd to a wan line the half…half moon。 This is a wreath； this is a victorie； Caesar himself would have look'd pale to see； And in the height of all his triumphs feel Himself but chain'd to such a mighty wheel。 And now me thinks we ape Augustus state； So ugly we his high worth imitate； Monkey his godlike glories； so that we Keep light and form with such deformitie； As I have seen an arrogant baboon With a small piece of glasse zany the sun。 Rome to her bard； who did her battails sing； Indifferent gave to poet and to king； With the same lawrells were his temples fraught； Who best had written； and who best had fought； The self same fame they equally did feel； One's style ador'd as much as t' other's steel。 A chain or fasces she could then afford The sons of Phoebus； we； an axe or cord； Sometimes a coronet was her renown； And ours； the dear prerogative of a crown。 In marble statu'd walks great Lucan lay； And now we walk； our own pale statua。 They the whole year with roses crownd would dine； And we in all December know no wine； Disciplin'd； dieted； sure there hath bin Ods 'twixt a poet and a Capuchin。 Of princes； women； wine； to sing I see Is no apocrypha： for to rise high Commend this olio of this lord 'tis fit： Nay； ten to one； but you have part of it； There is that justice left； since you maintain His table； he should counter…feed your brain。 Then write how well he in his sack hath droll'd； Straight there's a bottle to your chamber roll'd； Or with embroider'd words praise his French suit； Month hence 'tis yours with his mans； to boot； Or but applaud his boss'd legs： two to none； But he most nobly doth give you one。 Or spin an elegie on his false hair： 'Tis well； he cries； but living hair is dear。 Yet say that out of order ther's one curl； And all the hopes of your reward you furl。 Write a deep epick poem； and you may As soon delight them as the opera； Where they Diogenes thought in his tub； Never so sowre did look so sweet a club。 You that do suck for thirst your black quil's blood； And chaw your labour'd papers for your food； I will inform you how and what to praise； Then skin y' in satin as young Lovelace plaies。 Beware； as you would your fierce guests； your lice； To strip the cloath of gold from cherish'd vice； Rather stand off with awe and reverend fear； Hang a poetick pendant in her ear； Court her as her adorers do their glasse； Though that as much of a true substance has； Whilst all the gall from your wild ink you drain； The beauteous sweets of vertues cheeks to stain； And in your livery let her be known； As poor and tatter'd as in her own。 Nor write； nor speak you more of sacred writ； But what shall force up your arrested wit。 Be chast； religion and her priests your scorn； Whilst the vain fanes of idiots you adorn。 It is a mortal errour； you must know； Of any to speak good； if he be so。 Rayl； till your edged breath flea your raw throat； And burn remarks on all of gen'rous note； Each verse be an indictment； be not free Sanctity 't self from thy scurrility。 Libel your father； and your dam buffoon； The noblest matrons of the isle lampoon； Whilst Aretine and 's bodies you dispute； And in your sheets your sister prostitute。 Yet there belongs a sweetnesse； softnesse too； Which you must pay； but first； pray； know to who。 There is a creature； （if I may so call That unto which they do all prostrate fall） Term'd mistress； when they'r angry； but； pleas'd high； It is a princesse； saint； divinity。 To this they sacrifice the whole days light； Then lye with their devotion all night； For this you are to dive to the abysse； And rob for pearl the closet of some fish。 Arabia and Sabaea you must strip Of all their sweets； for to supply her lip； And steal new fire from heav'n； for to repair Her unfledg'd scalp with Berenice's hair； Then seat her in Cassiopeia's chair。 As now you're in your coach： save you； bright sir； （O； spare your thanks） is not this finer far Then walk un…hided； when that every stone Has knock'd acquaintance with your ankle…bone？ When your wing'd papers； like the last dove； nere Return'd to quit you of your hope or fear； But left you to the mercy of your host And your days fare； a fortified toast。 How many battels； sung in epick strain； Would have procur'd your head thatch from the rain Not all the arms of Thebes and Troy would get One knife but to anatomize your meat； A funeral elegie； with a sad boon； Might make you （hei！） sip wine like maccaroon； But if perchance there did a riband come； Not the train…band so fierce with all its drum： Yet with your torch you homeward would retire； And heart'ly wish your bed your fun'ral pyre。 With what a fury have I known you feed Upon a contract and the hopes 't might speed！ Not the fair bride； impatient of delay； Doth wish like you the beauties of that day； Hotter than all the roasted cooks you sat To dresse the fricace of your alphabet； Which sometimes would be drawn dough anagrame； Sometimes acrostick parched in the flame； Then posies stew'd with sippets； mottos by： Of minced verse a miserable pye。 How many knots slip'd； ere you twist their name With th' old device； as both their heart's the same！ Whilst like to drills the feast in your false jaw You would transmit at leisure to your maw； Then after all your fooling； fat； and wine； Glutton'd at last； return at home to pine。 Tell me； O Sun； since first your beams did play To night； and did awake the sleeping day； Since first your steeds of light their race did start； Did you ere blush as now？ Oh thou； that art The common father to the base pissmire； As well as great Alcides； did the fire From thine owne altar which the gods adore； Kindle the souls of gnats and wasps before？ Who would delight in his chast eyes to see Dormise to strike at lights of poesie？ Faction and envy now are downright rage。 Once a five…knotted whip there was； the stage： The beadle and the executioner； To whip small errors； and the great ones tear； Now； as er'e Nimrod the first king； he writes： That's strongest； th' ablest deepest bites。 The muses weeping fly their hill； to see Their noblest sons of peace in mutinie。 Could there nought else this civil war compleat； But poets raging with poetic heat； Tearing themselves and th' endlesse wreath； as though Immortal they； their wrath should be so； too？ And doubly fir'd Apollo burns to see In silent Helicon a naumachie。 Parnassus hears these at his first alarms； Never till now Minerva was in arms。 O more then conqu'ror of the world； great Rome！ Thy heros did with gentleness or'e come Thy foes themselves； but one another first； Whilst envy stript alone was left； and burst。 The learn'd Decemviri； 'tis true； did strive； But to add flames to keep their fame alive； Whilst the eternal lawrel hung ith' air： Nor of these ten sons was there found one heir。 Like to the golden tripod； it did pass From this to this； till 't came to him； whose 'twas。 Caesar to Gallus trundled it； and he To Maro： Maro； Naso； unto thee？ Naso to his Tibullus flung the wreath； He to Catullus thus did bequeath。 This glorious circle； to another round； At last the temples of their god it bound。 I might believe at least； that each might have A quiet fame contented in his grave； Envy the living； not the dead； doth bite： For after death all men receave their right。 If it be sacriledge for to profane Their holy ashes； what is't then their flame？ He does that wrong unweeting or in ire； As if one should put out the vestal fire。 Let earths four quarters speak； and thou； Sun； bear Now witnesse for thy fellow…traveller。 I was ally'd； dear Uncle； unto thee In blood； but thou； alas； not unto me； Your vertues； pow'rs； and mine differ'd at best； As they whose springs you saw； the east and west。 Let me awhile be twisted in thy shine；
