Billeder på siden

There spring

The sun has now profusely given SWEETLY' you kiss, my Lais dear!

The flashes of a noontide heaven, But, while you kiss, I feel a tear,

And, as the wave reflects his beams, Bitter as those when lovers part,

Another heaven its surface seems! In mystery from your eye-lid start!

Blue light and clouds of silvery tears Sadly you lean your head to mine,

So pictur'd o'er the waters lie, And round my neck in silence twine,

That every languid bark appears
Your hair along my bosom spread,

To float along a burning sky!
All humid with the tears you shed!
Have I not kiss'd those lids of snow ?

Oh! for the boat the angel gave'
Yet still, my love, like founts they flow,

To him, who, in his heaven-ward flight,
Bathing our cheeks, whene'er they meet Sail'd o'er the sun's ethereal wave,
Why is it thus ? do, tell me, Sweet !

To planet-isles of odorous light!
Ah, Lais! are my bodings right?

Sweet Venus, what a clime he found Am I to lose you ? is to-night

Within thy orb's ambrosial round !? Our last-go, false to heaven and me!

the breezes, rich and warm, Your very tears are treachery.

That pant around thy twilight car;
There angels dwell, so pure of form,

That each appears a living star !3
Such, while in air I floating hung,

These are the sprites, oh radiant queen!

Thou send'st so often to the bed Such was the strain, Morgante mio!

of her I love, with spell unseen, The muse and I together sung, With Boreas to make out the trio;

Thy planet's brightening balm to shed; But, bless the little fairy isle !

To make the eye's enchantment clearer,

To give the cheek one rose-bud more, How sweetly after all our ills,

And bid that flushing lip be dearer, We saw the dewy morning smile

Which had been, oh! too dear before! Serenely o'er its fragrant hills !

But, whither means the muse to roam ? And felt the pure, elastic flow

'Tis time to call the wanderer home. Of airs, that round this Eden blow,

Who could have ever thought to search her With honey freshness, caught by stealth

Up in the clouds with Father Kircher ? Warm from the very lips of health !

So, health and love to all your mansion ! Oh! could you view the scenery dear

Long may

the bowl that pleasures bloom in, That now beneath my window lies,

The flow of heart, the soul's expansion,
You'd think, that Nature lavish'd here

Mirth, and song, your board illumine!
Her purest wave, her softest skies,
To make a heaven for Love to sigh in,

Fare you well-remember too,
For bards to live, and saints to die in!

When cups are flowing to the brim, Close to my wooded bank below,

That here is one who drinks to you, In glassy calm the waters sleep,

And, oh! as warmly drink to him. And to the sun-beam proudly show

The coral rocks they love to steep !3
The fainting breeze of morning fails,

The drowsy boat moves slowly past,
And I can almost touch its sails


1801. That languish idly round the mast.

No-Lady! Lady! keep the ring;

Oh! think how many a future year, 1 This epigram is by Paulus Sitentiarius, and may be of placid smile and downy wing, found in the Analecta of Brunck, Vol. 8, p. 72. But as the reading there is somewhat different from what I have fol

May sleep within its holy sphere! lowed in this translation, I shall give it as I had it in my

Do not disturb their tranquil dream, memory at the time, and as it is in Heinsius, who, I believe, first produced the epigram. See his Poemata.

Though love hath ne'er the mystery warm'd, “Ηδυ μεν εστι φιλημα το Λαιδος" ηδυ δι αυτων Ηπιοδινητων δακρυ χεις βλεφαρων

1 In Kircher's "Extatic Journey to Heaven," Cosmiel, Και πολυ κιχλιζεση σoβoις ευβοστρυχον αιγλην the genius of the world, gives Theodidactus a boat of AsHμε τερα κεφαλην δηρον ερεισαμενη.

bestos, with which he embarks into the regions of the sun.

"Vides (says Cosmiel) hanc asbestinam naviculam commoΜυρομενην δ'εφιλησα τα δ' ως δροσερης απο πηγης, ditati tuæ præparatam." Itinerar. 1. Dial. 1. Cap. 5. There Δακρυα μιγνομένων πιπτι κατα στο ματων .

are some very strange fancies in this work of Kircher. Ειπι δ' ανειρο μενω, τινος ουνικα δακρυα λειβεις;

2 When the Genius of the world and his fellow-traveller

arrive at the planet Venus, they find an island of loveliness, AH8* un pas 21576 ITTI 7 ap opx **%***.

full of odours and intelligences, where angels preside, who 2 The water is so clear around the island, that the rocks shed the cosmetic influence of this planet over the earth; are seen beneath to a very great depth, and, as we entered such being, according to astrologers, the "vis influxiva" of the harbour, they appeared to us so near the surface, that it Venus. When they are in this part of the heavens, a casu · seemed impossible we should not strike on them. There is istical question occurs to Theodıdactus, and he asks no necessity, of course, for heaving the lead, and the negro "Wbether baptism may be performed with the waters of prot, locking down at the rocks from the bow of the ship, Venus ?"-" An aquis globi Veneris baptismus institui postakes her through this difficult navigation, with a skill and sit ?" to which the Genius answers, “Certainly." confidence which seem to astonish some of the oldest sai- 3 This idea is father Kircher's. "Tot animatos roles lors.

dixisses." Itinerar. I. Dial. Cap. 5

Yet heav'n will shed a soothing beam,

ΤΟ. To bless the bond itself hath form'd.

ON SEEING HER WITH A WHITE VEIL AND A But then, that eye, that burning eye!

Oh! it doth ask, with magic power,
If heaven can ever bless the tie,

ΜΑΡΓΑΡΙΤΛΙ ΔΗΛΟΥΣΙ ΔΑΚΡΥΩΝ POON. . Where love inwreaths no genial flower!

Ap. Nicephor. in Oneirocritico. Away, away, bewildering look! Or all the boast of Virtue's o'er;

Put off the vestal veil, nor, oh! Go-hie thee to the sage's book,

Let weeping angels view it; And learn from him to feel no more!

Your cheeks belie its virgin snow,

And blush repenting through it.
I cannot warn thee! every touch,
That brings my pulses close to thine,

Put off the fatal zone you wear';
Tells me I want thy aid as much,

The lucid pearls around it Oh! quite as much, as thou dost mine!

Are tears, that fell from Virtue there,

The hour that Love unbound it.
Yet stay, dear love-one effort yet-

A moment turn those eyes away,
And let me, if I can, forget
The light that leads my soul astray!

Thou say'st, that we were born to meet,
That our hearts bear one common seal,-

-vo cercand' io Oh, Lady! think, how man's deceit

Donna, quant'e possibile, in altrui Can seem to sigh and feign to feel !

La desiata vostra forma vera.

Petrare. Sonett. 14. When, o'er thy face some gleam of thought, Like day-beams through the morning air,

Yes, if 'twere any common love, Hath gradual stole, and I have caught

That led my pliant heart astray, The feeling ere it kindled there:

I grant, there's not a power above The sympathy I then betray'd,

Could wipe the faithless crime away! Perhaps was but the child of art;

But, 'twas my doom to err with one The guide of one, who long hath play'd

In every look so like to thee, With all these wily nets of heart.

That, oh! beneath the blessed sun, Oh! thou hast not my virgin vow!

So fair there are but thou and she ! Though few the years I yet have told,

Whate'er may be her angel birth, Canst thou believe I lived till now,

She was thy lovely perfect twin, With loveless heart or senses cold?

And wore the only shape on earth, No-many a throb of bliss and pain,

That could have charm'd my soul to sin ! For many a maid, my soul bath prov'd;

Your eyes —the eyes of languid doves With some I wanton'd wild and vain,

Were never half so like each other! While some I truly, dearly lov'd!

The glances of the baby loves The cheek to thine I fondly lay,

Resemble less their warm-ey'd mother! To theirs hath been as fondly laid;

Her lip !-oh, call me not false hearted, The words to thee I warmly say,

When such a lip I fondly prest ; To them have been as warmly said.

'Twas Love some melting cherry parted, Then, scorn at once a languid heart,

Gave thee one half and her the rest ! Which long hath lost its early spring ;

And when, with all thy murmuring tone, Think of the pure, bright soul thou art,

They sued, half open, to be kissid, And-keep the ring, oh! keep the ring.

I could as soon resist thine own

And them, heaven knows! I ne'er resist. Enough—now, turn thine eyes again ; What, still that look, and still that sigh !

Then, scorn me not, though false I be, Dost thou not feel my counsel then?

'Twas love that wak'd the dear excess; Oh! no, beloved !-nor do I.

My heart had been more true to thee,

Had mine eye priz'd thy beauty less ! While thus to mine thy bosom lies,

While thus our breaths commingling glow, 'Twere more than woman to be wise, "Twere more than man to wish thee so !

ΤΟ. Did we not love so true, so dear,

When I lov'd you, I can't but allow This lapse could never be forgiven;

I had many an exquisite minute ; But hearts so fond and lips so near

But the scorn that I feel for you now Give me the ring, and now-Oh heaven !

Hath even more luxury in it'

Thus, whether we're on or we're off,

Some witchery seems to await you; To love you is pleasant enough,

And, oh! 'tis delicious to hate you !

Whose lip hath drain'd life's cup of pleasure, Nor left one honey drop to shed

Round misery's brim. Yes—he can smile serene at death : Kind heaven! do thou but chase the weeping

Of friends who love him; Tell them that he lies calmly sleeping Where sorrow's sting or envy's breath

No more shall move him.



Fill high the cup with liquid flame,
And speak my HELIODORA's name!
Repeat its magic o'er and o'er,
And let the sound my lips adore,
Sweeten the breeze, and mingling swim
On every bowl's voluptuous brim!
Give me the wreath that withers there;

It was but last delicious night
It hung upon her wavy hair,

And caught her eyes' reflected light!
Oh! haste, and twine it round my brow;
It breathes of HELIODORA now!
The loving rose-bud drops a tear,
To see the nymph no longer here,
No longer, where she used to lie,
Close to my heart's devoted sigh!


Euripid. Medea, v. 967.

That sky of clouds is not the sky
To light a lover to the pillow

Of her he loves-
The swell of yonder foaming billow
Resembles not the happy sigh

That rapture moves.
Yet do I feel more tranquil now
Amid the gloomy wilds of ocean,

In this dark hour,
Than when, in transport's young emotion,
I've stol'n, beneath the evening star,

To Julia's bower.
Oh! there's a holy calm profound
In awe like this, that ne'er was given

To rapture's thrill;
"Tis as a solemn voice from heaven,
And the soul, listening to the sound,

Lies mute and still! 'Tis true, it talks of danger nigh, Of slumbering with the dead to-morrow

In the cold deep, Where pleasure's throb or tears of sorrow No more shall wake the heart or eye,

But all must sleep! Well there are some, thou stormy bed, To whom thy sleep would be a treasure !

Oh most to him,

Nay, tempt me not to love again,

There was a time when love was sweet ; Dear Nea ! had I known thee then,

Our souls had not been slow to meet! But, oh! this weary heart hath run,

So many a time, the rounds of pain, Not e'en for thee, thou lovely one!

Would I endure such pangs again. If there be climes, where never yet The print of Beauty's foot was set, Where man may pass his loveless nights, Unsever'd by her false delights, Thither my wounded soul would fly, Where rosy cheek or radiant eye Should bring no more their bliss, their pain, Or fetter me to earth again! Dear absent girl, whose eyes of light,

Though little priz'd when all my own, Now float before me, soft and bright

As when they first enamouring shone!
How many hours of idle waste,
Within those witching arms embraced,
Unmindful of the fleeting day,
Have I dissolv'd life's dream away!
O bloom of time profusely shed!
O moments ! simply, vainly fled,
Yet sweetly too-for love perfum'd
The flame which thus my life consum'd;
And brilliant was the chain of flowers,
In which he led my victim hours !
Say, Nea, dear! could'st thou, like her,
When warm to feel and quick to err,
Of loving fond, of roving fonder,
My thoughtless soul might wish to wander-
Could'st thou, like her, the wish reclaim,

Endearing still, reproaching never.
Till all my heart should burn with shame,

And be thine own, more fix'd than ever ? No, no-on earth there's only one

Could bind such faithless folly fast: And sure on earth 'tis I alone

Could make such virtue false at last! Nea! the heart which she forsook,

For thee were but a worthless shrineGo, lovely girl, that angel look

Must thrill a soul more pure than min,

1 Εγχει, και παλιν ιιπι, παλιν, παλίν, Ηλιοδωρος

Ειπι, συν ακρητω το γλυκυ μισγ' ονομα.
Και μου τον βρόχθιντα μυροις και χθιζον εοντα, ,

Μνημοσυνον κιόνας, αμφιτιθιι στεφανον:
Δεκρνει φιλιραστον ιδου ροδον, συνεκα κειναν
Αλλοθι και'ου κολποις ημιτιροις ισορα.
Brunck. Analect. tom. i. P.


Oh! thou shalt be all else to me,

That heart can feel or tongue can feign; I'll praise, admire, and worship thee,

But must not, dare not, love again.


Propert. Lib. iv. Eleg. 8

I PRAY you, let us roam no more
Along that wild and lonely shore,

Where late we thoughtless stray'd;
'Twas not for us, whom heaven intends
To be no more than simple friends,

Such lonely walks were made. That little bay, where, winding in From ocean's rude and angry din,

(As lovers steal to bliss,)
The billows kiss the shore, and then
Flow calmly to the deep again,

As though they did not kiss !
Remember, o'er its circling flood
In what a dangerous dream we stood-

The silent sea before us,
Around us, all the gloom of grove,
That e'er was spread for guilt or love,

No eye but nature's o'er us !
I saw you blush, you felt me tremble,
In vain would formal art dissemble

All that we wish'd and thought ;'Twas more than tongue could dare reveal, 'Twas more than virtue ought to feel,

But all that passion ought!
I stoop'd to cull, with faltering hand,
A shell that on the golden sand

Before us faintly gleam'd;
I rais'd it to your lips of dew,
You kiss'd the shell, I kiss'd it too-

Good heaven, how sweet it seem'd! 0, trust me, 'twas a place, an hour, The worst that e'er temptation's power

Could tangle me or you in! Sweet Nea ! let us roam no more Along that wild and lonely shore

Such walks will be our ruin!

Bending to earth that beamy glance,

As if to light your steps along !
Oh! how could others dare to touch

That hallow'd form with hand so free,
When but to look was bliss too much,

Too rare for all but heaven and me! With smiling eyes, that little thought

How fatal were the beams they threw, My trembling hands you lightly caught,

And round me, like a spirit, flew. Heedless of all, I wildly turn'd,

My soul forgot-nor, oh! condemn, That when such eyes before ine burn'd

My soul forgot all eyes but them! I dar'd to speak in sobs of bliss,

Rapture of every thought bereft me, I would have clasp'd you-oh, even this !.

But, with a bound, you blushing left me. Forget, forget that night's offence,

Forgive it, if, alas ! you can; 'Twas love, 'twas passion—soul and sense

'Twas all the best and worst of man! That moment, did the mingled eyes

Of heaven and earth my madness view, I should have seen, through earth and skies,

But you alone, but only you! Did not a frown from you reprove,

Myriads of eyes to me were none; I should have-oh, my only love!

My life! what should I not have done!

You read it in my languid eyes,

And there alone should love be read; You hear me say it all in sighs,

And thus alone should love be said. Then dread no more; I will not speak;

Although my heart to anguish thrill, I'll spare the burning of your cheek,

And look it all in silence still! Heard you the wish I dar’d to name,

To murmur on that luckless night, When passion broke the bonds of shame,

And love grew madness in your sight? Divinely through the graceful dance,

You seem'd to float in silent song,

A DREAM OF ANTIQUITY I just had turn'd the classic page,

And trac'd that happy period over, When love could warm the proudest sage,

And wisdom grace the tenderest lover! Before I laid me down to sleep,

Upon the bank awhile I stood,
And saw the vestal planet weep

Her tears of light on Ariel's flood.
My heart was full of Fancy's dream,
And, as I watch'd the playful stream,
Entangling in its net of smiles
So fair a group of elfin isles,
I felt as if the scenery there

Were lighted by a Grecian sky-
As if I breath'd the blissful air

That yet was warm with Sappho's sigh!
And now the downy hand of rest
Her signet on my eyes imprest,
And still the bright and balmy spell,
Like star-dew, o'er my fancy fell !
I thought that, all enrapt, I stray'd
Through that serene luxurious shade,

1 Gassendi thinks that the gardens, which Pausanias mentions, in his first Book, were those of Epicurus; and Stuart says, in bis Antiquities of Athens, " Near this convent (tho convent of Hagios Assomatos) is the place called at present Kepoi, or the Gardens ; ad Ampelos Kepos, or the Vinoyard Garden; these were probably the gardens which Pausanias visited." Chap. ii. Vol. I.

Where Epicurus taught the Loves

While others, waving arms of snow To polish virtue's native brightness,

Entwin'd by snakes of burnish'd gold,' Just as the beak of playful doves

And showing limbs, as loth to show, Can give to pearls a smoother whiteness !'

Through many a thin Tarentian fold,” "Twas one of those delicious nights

Glided along the festal ring So common in the climes of Greece,

With vases, all respiring spring, When day withdraws but half its lights,

Where roses lay, in langour breathing, And all is moonshine, balm, and peace!

And the young bee-grape, round them wreathing, And thou wert there, my own belov'd!

Hung on their blushes warm and meek, And dearly by thy side I rov'd

Like curls upon a rosy cheek!

Oh, Nea! why did morning break
Through many a temple's reverend gloom,
And many a bower's seductive bloom,

The spell that so divinely bound me?
Where beauty blush'd and wisdom taught,

Why did I wake! how could I wake Where lovers sigh'd and sages thought,

With thee my own and heaven around me ? Where hearts might feel or heads discern,

And all was form’d to sooth or move, To make the dullest love to learn,

Well-peace to thy heart, though another's it be, To make the coldest learn to love !

And health to thy cheek, though it bloom not for me! And now the fairy pathway seem'd

To-morrow, I sail for those cinnamon groves, To lead us through enchanted ground,

Where nightly the ghost of the Carribee roves, Where all that bard has ever dream'd

And, far from thine eye, oh! perhaps, I may yet Of love or luxury bloom'd around!

Its seduction forgive and its splendour forget! Oh! 'twas a bright bewildering scene

Farewell to Bermuda," and long may the bloom Along the alley's deepening green,

Of the lemon and myrtle its vallies perfume; Soft lamps, that hung like burning flowers,

May spring to eternity hallow the shade, And scented and illum'd the bowers,

Where Ariel has warbled and Wallers has stray'd! Seem'd, as to him, who darkling roves

And thou—when, at dawn, thou shalt happen to roam Amid the lone Hercynian groves,

Through the lime-cover'd alley that leads to thy home, Appear the countless birds of light,

Where oft, when the dance and the revel were done, That sparkle in the leaves at night,

And the stars were beginning to fade in the sun, And from their wings diffuse a ray

I have led thee along, and have told by the way Along the traveller's weary way !!

What my heart all the night had been burning to say"Twas light of that mysterious kind,

Oh! think of the past-give a sigh to those times, Through which the soul is doom'd to roam, And a blessing for me to that alley of limes ! When it has left this world behind,

And gone to seek its heavenly home! And, Nea, thou didst look and move, Like any blooming soul of bliss,

If I were yonder wave, my dear, That wanders to its home above

And thou the isle it clasps around, Through mild and shadowy light like this !

I would not let a foot come near

My land of bliss, my fairy ground !
But now, methought, we stole along
Through halls of more voluptuous glory

1 Bracelets of this shape were a favourite ornament among Than ever liv'd in Teian song,

the women of antiquity. O. $T ***87106 09:45 **• *• xpueri Or wanton'd in Milesian story !3

=:86 Oxidos x** Apieteen opzs xeo Axodos & P***. And nymphs were there, whose very eyes

Philostrat. Epist. xl. Lucian 100 tells of the Epexronto 8pm.

See bis Amores, where he describes the dressingScem'd almost to exhale in sighs ;

room of a Grecian lady, and we find the "silver vase," the Whose every little ringlet thrillid,

rouge, the tooth-powder, and all the “ mystic order" of a

modern toilet. As if with soul and passion flld!

2 Ταραντινιδιον, διαφανες ενδυμα, ανομασμενον Some few, with amber cups, around,

της Ταραντινων χρησε ως και τρυφες.-Pollux. . Shedding the flowery wines of Crete,*

3 Apiana, mentioned by Pliny, Lib. xiv. and now called

the Muscatell (a muscarum telish") says Pancirollus, Book And, as they pass'd with youthful bound,

i. Sect. 1. Chap. 17. The onyx shone beneath their feet !

4 The inhabitants pronounce the name as if it were writ

ten Bermooda. See the commentators on the words "still. i This method of polishing pearls, by leaving them awhile rex'd Bermoothes," in the Tempest. I wonder it did not to be played with by doves, is mentioned by the fanciful occur to some of those all-reading gentlemen that, possibly, Cardanus, de Rerup Vanitiat. Lib. xii. cap. 34. the discoverer of this "island of hogs and devils" mighi

2 in Hercynio Germaniæ saltu inusitata genera alitum have been no less a personage than the great John Bermuaccepimus, quarum plumas, ignium modo, colluceant nocti-dez, who, about the same period, (the beginning of the sixbus.' Plin. Lib. x. cap. 17.

teenth century,) was sent Patriarch of the Latin Church to 3 The Milesiacs, or Mil'sian Fables, had their origin in Ethiopia, and has left us most wonderful stories of the Milatus, a luxurious town of Jonia. Aristides was the most Amazons and the Griffins, which he encountered. Travels celebrated author of these licentious fictions. See Plutarch of the Jesuits, Vol. I. I am afraid, however, it would (in Crasso) who calls them **0A%7T* 16.621*.

take the Patriarch rather too much out of his way. 4 Some of the Cretan wines, which Athenæus calls orvos 5 Johnson does not think that Waller was ever at Bermu2-5 or unses, from their fragrancy reseinbling that of the da; but the “Account of the European Settlements in finest flowers, Barry on Wines, chap. vii.

America," affirms it confidently. (Vol. 11.). I mention this 5 It appears, that in very splendid mansions the floor or work, however, less for its authority, than for the pleasure I pavement was frequently of onyx. Thus Martial : Calca- feel in quoting an unacknowledged production of the gres tusun tun sub pede lucet onyx.' Epig. 50. Lib. xii. Edmund Burke.



« ForrigeFortsæt »