Poetical Works of Edmund Waller and Sir John Denham Part 46

Nor old Anacreon, Hesiod, Theocrite, Must we forget, nor Pindar's lofty flight. 70 Old Homer's soul, at last from Greece retired, In Italy the Mantuan swain inspired.

When great Augustus made war's tempest cease, His halcyon days brought forth the arts of peace; He still in his triumphant chariot shines, By Horace drawn, and Virgil's mighty lines.

'Twas certainly mysterious that the name [2]

Of prophets and of poets is the same; What the tragedian[3]--wrote, the late success 79 Declares was inspiration, and not guess: As dark a truth that author did unfold, As oracles or prophets e'er foretold: 'At last the ocean shall unlock the bound Of things, and a new world by Tiphys found, Then ages far remote shall understand The Isle of Thule is not the farthest land.'

Sure G.o.d, by these discov'ries, did design That his clear light through all the world should shine, But the obstruction from that discord springs The prince of darkness made 'twixt Christian kings; 90 That peaceful age with happiness to crown, From heaven the Prince of Peace himself came down, Then the true sun of knowledge first appear'd, And the old dark mysterious clouds were clear'd, The heavy cause of th'old accursed flood Sunk in the sacred deluge of his blood.

His pa.s.sion man from his first fall redeem'd; Once more to paradise restored we seem'd; Satan himself was bound, till th'iron chain Our pride did break, and let him loose again. 100 Still the old sting remain'd, and man began To tempt the serpent, as he tempted man; Then h.e.l.l sends forth her furies, Av'rice, Pride, Fraud, Discord, Force, Hypocrisy their guide; Though the foundation on a rock were laid, The church was undermined, and then betray'd: Though the Apostles these events foretold, Yet even the shepherd did devour the fold: The fisher to convert the world began, The pride convincing of vain-glorious man; 110 But soon his followers grew a sovereign lord, And Peter's keys exchanged for Peter's sword, Which still maintains for his adopted son Vast patrimonies, though himself had none; Wresting the text to the old giant's sense, That heaven, once more, must suffer violence.

Then subtle doctors Scriptures made their prize; Casuists, like c.o.c.ks, struck out each others eyes; Then dark distinctions reason's light disguised, And into atoms truth anatomised. 120 Then Mah'met's crescent, by our feuds increased, Blasted the learn'd remainders of the East; That project, when from Greece to Rome it came, Made Mother Ignorance Devotion's dame; Then he whom Lucifer's own pride did swell, His faithful emissary, rose from h.e.l.l To possess Peter's chair, that Hildebrand Whose foot on mitres, then on crowns, did stand; And before that exalted idol all (Whom we call G.o.ds on earth) did prostrate fall. 130 Then darkness Europe's face did overspread From lazy cells where superst.i.tion bred, Which, link'd with blind obedience, so increased, That the whole world some ages they oppress'd; Till through these clouds the sun of knowledge brake, And Europe from her lethargy did wake: Then first our monarchs were acknowledged here, That they their churches' nursing fathers were.

When Lucifer no longer could advance His works on the false grounds of ignorance, 140 New arts he tries, and new designs he lays, Then his well-studied masterpiece he plays; Loyola, Luther, Calvin he inspires, And kindles with infernal flames their fires, Sends their forerunner (conscious of th'event) Printing, his most pernicious instrument!

Wild controversy then, which long had slept, Into the press from ruin'd cloisters leap'd; No longer by implicit faith we err, Whilst every man's his own interpreter; 150 No more conducted now by Aaron's rod, Lay-elders from their ends create their G.o.d.

But seven wise men the ancient world did know, We scarce know seven who think themselves not so.

When man learn'd undefiled religion, We were commanded to be all as one; Fiery disputes that union have calcined; Almost as many minds as men we find, And when that flame finds combustible earth, Thence _fatuus_ fires, and meteors take their birth; 160 Legions of sects and insects come in throngs; To name them all would tire a hundred tongues.

So were the Centaurs of Ixion's race, Who a bright cloud for Juno did embrace; And such the monsters of Chimaera's kind, Lions before, and dragons were behind.

Then from the clashes between popes and kings, Debate, like sparks from flints' collision, springs: As Jove's loud thunderbolts were forged by heat, The like our Cyclops on their anvils beat; 170 All the rich mines of learning ransack'd are, To furnish ammunition for this war: Uncharitable zeal our reason whets, And double edges on our pa.s.sion sets; 'Tis the most certain sign the world's accursed, That the best things corrupted are the worst; 'Twas the corrupted light of knowledge hurl'd Sin, death, and ignorance o'er all the world; That sun like this (from which our sight we have), 179 Gazed on too long, resumes the light he gave; And when thick mists of doubts obscure his beams, Our guide is error, and our visions, dreams; 'Twas no false heraldry when madness drew Her pedigree from those who too much knew; Who in deep mines for hidden knowledge toils, Like guns o'ercharged, breaks, misses, or recoils; When subtle wits have spun their thread too fine, 'Tis weak and fragile, like Arachne's line: True piety, without cessation toss'd By theories, the practic part is lost, 190 And like a ball bandied 'twixt pride and wit, Rather than yield, both sides the prize will quit: Then whilst his foe each gladiator foils, The atheist looking on enjoys the spoils.

Through seas of knowledge we our course advance, Discov'ring still new worlds of ignorance; And these discov'ries make us all confess That sublunary science is but guess; Matters of fact to man are only known, And what seems more is mere opinion; 200 The standers-by see clearly this event; All parties say they're sure, yet all dissent; With their new light our bold inspectors press, Like Cham, to show their fathers' nakedness, By whose example after ages may Discover we more naked are than they; All human wisdom to divine is folly; This truth the wisest man made melancholy; Hope, or belief, or guess, gives some relief, But to be sure we are deceived brings grief: 210 Who thinks his wife is virtuous, though not so, Is pleased and patient till the truth he know.

Our G.o.d, when heaven and earth he did create, Form'd man who should of both partic.i.p.ate; If our lives' motions theirs must imitate, Our knowledge, like our blood, must circulate.

When like a bridegroom from the east, the sun Sets forth, he thither, whence he came, doth run; Into earth's spongy veins the ocean sinks, Those rivers to replenish which he drinks; 220 So learning, which from reason's fountain springs, Back to the source some secret channel brings.

'Tis happy when our streams of knowledge flow To fill their banks, but not to overthrow.

Ut met.i.t Autumnus fruges quas parturit Aestas, Sic ortum Natura, dedit Deus his quoque finem.

[1]'From thence': Gracia Major.

[2] 'The name': Vates.

[3] 'The tragedian': Seneca.

ELEGY ON THE DEATH OF HENRY LORD HASTINGS, 1650.

Reader, preserve thy peace: those busy eyes Will weep at their own sad discoveries, When every line they add improves thy loss, Till, having view'd the whole, they seem a cross, Such as derides thy pa.s.sions' best relief, And scorns the succours of thy easy grief; Yet lest thy ignorance betray thy name Of man and pious, read and mourn; the shame Of an exemption from just sense doth show Irrational, beyond excess of woe. 10 Since reason, then, can privilege a tear, Manhood, uncensured, pay that tribute here Upon this n.o.ble urn. Here, here remains Dust far more precious than in India's veins; Within those cold embraces, ravish'd, lies That which completes the age's tyrannies; Who weak to such another ill appear, For what destroys our hope secures our fear.

What sin, unexpiated in this land Of groans, hath guided so severe a hand? 20 The late great victim[1] that your altars knew, Ye angry G.o.ds! might have excused this new Oblation, and have spared one lofty light Of virtue, to inform our steps aright; By whose example good, condemned, we Might have run on to kinder destiny.

But as the leader of the herd fell first A sacrifice, to quench the raging thirst Of inflamed vengeance for past crimes, so none But this white, fatted youngling could atone, 30 By his untimely fate, that impious smoke, That sullied earth, and did Heaven's pity choke.

Let it suffice for us that we have lost In him more than the widow'd world can boast In any lump of her remaining clay.

Fair as the gray-eyed morn he was; the day, Youthful, and climbing upwards still, imparts No haste like that of his increasing parts.

Like the meridian beam, his virtue's light Was seen as full of comfort, and as bright. 40 Had his noon been as fixed, as clear--but he, That only wanted immortality To make him perfect, now submits to night, In the black bosom of whose sable spite He leaves a cloud of flesh behind, and flies, Refined, all ray and glory, to the skies.

Great saint! shine there in an eternal sphere, 47 And tell those powers to whom thou now draw'st near, That by our trembling sense, in Hastings dead, Their anger and our ugly faults are read, The short lines of whose life did to our eyes Their love and majesty epitomise; Tell them, whose stern decrees impose our laws; The feasted grave may close her hollow jaws.

Though Sin search Nature, to provide her here A second entertainment half so dear, She'll never meet a plenty like this hea.r.s.e, Till Time present her with the universe!

[1] 'Great victim': Charles I.

OF OLD AGE.[1]

CATO, SCIPIO, LaeLIUS.

SCIPIO TO CATO.

Though all the actions of your life are crown'd With wisdom, nothing makes them more renown'd, Than that those years, which others think extreme, Nor to yourself nor us uneasy seem; Under which weight most, like th'old giants, groan.

When Aetna on their backs by Jove was thrown.

CATO. What you urge, Scipio, from right reason flows: All parts of age seem burthensome to those Who virtue's and true wisdom's happiness Cannot discern; but they who those possess, 10 In what's impos'd by Nature find no grief, Of which our age is (next our death) the chief, Which though all equally desire t'obtain, Yet when they have obtain'd it, they complain; Such our inconstancies and follies are, We say it steals upon us unaware: Our want of reas'ning these false measures makes, Youth runs to age, as childhood youth o'ertakes.

How much more grievous would our lives appear, To reach th'eighth hundred, than the eightieth year? 20 Of what in that long s.p.a.ce of time hath pa.s.s'd, To foolish age will no remembrance last.

My age's conduct when you seem t'admire (Which that it may deserve, I much desire), 'Tis my first rule, on Nature, as my guide Appointed by the G.o.ds, I have relied; And Nature (which all acts of life designs), Not, like ill poets, in the last declines: But some one part must be the last of all, Which like ripe fruits, must either rot or fall. 30 And this from Nature must be gently borne, Else her (as giants did the G.o.ds) we scorn.

LaeLIUS. But, Sir, 'tis Scipio's and my desire, Since to long life we gladly would aspire, That from your grave instructions we might hear, How we, like you, may this great burthen bear.

CAT. This I resolved before, but now shall do With great delight, since 'tis required by you.

LaeL. If to yourself it will not tedious prove, Nothing in us a greater joy can move, 40 That as old travellers the young instruct, Your long, our short experience may conduct.

CAT. 'Tis true (as the old proverb doth relate), Equals with equals often congregate.

Two consuls[2] (who in years my equals were) When senators, lamenting I did hear That age from them had all their pleasures torn, 47 And them their former suppliants now scorn: They what is not to be accused accuse, Not others, but themselves their age abuse; Else this might me concern, and all my friends, Whose cheerful age with honour youth attends, Joy'd that from pleasure's slav'ry they are free, And all respects due to their age they see.

In its true colours, this complaint appears The ill effect of manners, not of years; For on their life no grievous burthen lies, Who are well natured, temperate, and wise; But an inhuman and ill-temper'd mind, Not any easy part in life can find. 60

LaeL. This I believe; yet others may dispute, Their age (as yours) can never bear such fruit Of honour, wealth, and power to make them sweet; Not every one such happiness can meet.

CAT. Some weight your argument, my Laelius, bears, But not so much as at first sight appears.

This answer by Themistocles was made, (When a Seriphian thus did him upbraid, 'You those great honours to your country owe, Not to yourself')-'Had I at Seripho[3] 70 Been born, such honour I had never seen, Nor you, if an Athenian you had been;'

So age, clothed in indecent poverty, To the most prudent cannot easy be; But to a fool, the greater his estate, The more uneasy is his age's weight.

Age's chief arts and arms are to grow wise, Virtue to know, and known, to exercise; All just returns to age then virtue makes, 79 Nor her in her extremity forsakes; The sweetest cordial we receive at last, Is conscience of our virtuous actions past.

I (when a youth) with reverence did look On Quintus Fabius, who Tarentum took; Yet in his age such cheerfulness was seen, As if his years and mine had equal been; His gravity was mix'd with gentleness, Nor had his age made his good humour less; Then was he well in years (the same that he Was Consul that of my nativity), 90 (A stripling then), in his fourth consulate On him at Capua I in arms did wait.

I five years after at Tarentum wan The quaestorship, and then our love began; And four years after, when I praetor was, He pleaded, and the Cincian law[4] did pa.s.s.

With useful diligence he used t'engage, Yet with the temperate arts of patient age He breaks fierce Hannibal's insulting heats; Of which exploit thus our friend Ennius treats: 100 He by delay restored the commonwealth, Nor preferr'd rumour before public health.

[1] This piece is adapted from Cicero, 'De Seucctute.'

[2] 'Two consuls': Caius Salinator, Spurius Albinus.

[3] 'Seripho': an isle to which condemned men were banished.

[4] 'Cincian law': against bribes.

THE ARGUMENT.

When I reflect on age, I find there are Four causes, which its misery declare.

1. Because our body's strength it much impairs: 2. That it takes off our minds from great affairs: 3. Next, that our sense of pleasure it deprives: 4. Last, that approaching death attends our lives.

Of all these sev'ral causes I'll discourse, 109 And then of each, in order, weigh the force.

THE FIRST PART.

The old from such affairs is only freed, Which vig'rous youth and strength of body need; But to more high affairs our age is lent, Most properly when heats of youth are spent.

Did Fabius and your father Scipio (Whose daughter my son married) nothing do?

Fabricii, Coruncani, Curii; Whose courage, counsel, and authority, The Roman commonwealth restored did boast, Nor Appius, with whose strength his sight was lost, 120 Who when the Senate was to peace inclined With Pyrrhus, shew'd his reason was not blind, Whither's our courage and our wisdom come When Rome itself conspires the fate of Rome?

The rest with ancient gravity and skill He spake (for his oration's extant still).

'Tis seventeen years since he had Consul been The second time, and there were ten between; Therefore their argument's of little force, Who age from great employments would divorce. 130 As in a ship some climb the shrouds, t'unfold The sail, some sweep the deck, some pump the hold; Whilst he that guides the helm employs his skill, And gives the law to them by sitting still.