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Thus let this crystal'd lily be A rule how far to teach Your nakedness must reach; And that no further than we see Those glaring colours laid By art's wise hand, but to this end They should obey a shade, Lest they too far extend.
So though you're white as swan or snow, And have the power to move A world of men to love, Yet when your lawns and silks shall flow, And that white cloud divide Into a doubtful twilight, then, Then will your hidden pride Raise greater fires in men.
_Tincture_, colour, dye.
_Scene_, a covering.
194. TO HIS BOOK.
Like to a bride, come forth, my book, at last, With all thy richest jewels overcast; Say, if there be, 'mongst many gems here, one Deserveless of the name of paragon; Blush not at all for that, since we have set Some pearls on queens that have been counterfeit.
195. UPON SOME WOMEN.
Thou who wilt not love, do this, Learn of me what woman is.
Something made of thread and thrum.
A mere botch of all and some.
Pieces, patches, ropes of hair; Inlaid garbage everywhere.
Outside silk and outside lawn; Scenes to cheat us neatly drawn.
False in legs, and false in thighs; False in breast, teeth, hair, and eyes; False in head, and false enough; Only true in shreds and stuff.
_Thrum_, a small thread.
_All and some_, anything and everything.
196. SUPREME FORTUNE FALLS SOONEST.
While leanest beasts in pastures feed, _The fattest ox the first must bleed_.
197. THE WELCOME TO SACK.
So soft streams meet, so springs with gladder smiles Meet after long divorcement by the isles; When love, the child of likeness, urgeth on Their crystal natures to a union: So meet stolen kisses, when the moony nights Call forth fierce lovers to their wish'd delights; So kings and queens meet, when desire convinces All thoughts but such as aim at getting princes, As I meet thee. Soul of my life and fame!
Eternal lamp of love! whose radiant flame Out-glares the heaven's Osiris,[H] and thy gleams Out-shine the splendour of his mid-day beams.
Welcome, O welcome, my ill.u.s.trious spouse; Welcome as are the ends unto my vows; Aye! far more welcome than the happy soil The sea-scourged merchant, after all his toil, Salutes with tears of joy, when fires betray The smoky chimneys of his Ithaca.
Where hast thou been so long from my embraces, Poor pitied exile? Tell me, did thy graces Fly discontented hence, and for a time Did rather choose to bless another clime?
Or went'st thou to this end, the more to move me, By thy short absence, to desire and love thee?
Why frowns my sweet? Why won't my saint confer Favours on me, her fierce idolater?
Why are those looks, those looks the which have been Time-past so fragrant, sickly now drawn in Like a dull twilight? Tell me, and the fault I'll expiate with sulphur, hair and salt; And, with the crystal humour of the spring, Purge hence the guilt and kill this quarrelling.
Wo't thou not smile or tell me what's amiss?
Have I been cold to hug thee, too remiss, Too temp'rate in embracing? Tell me, has desire To thee-ward died i' th' embers, and no fire Left in this rak'd-up ash-heap as a mark To testify the glowing of a spark?
Have I divorc'd thee only to combine In hot adult'ry with another wine?
True, I confess I left thee, and appeal 'Twas done by me more to confirm my zeal And double my affection on thee, as do those Whose love grows more inflam'd by being foes.
But to forsake thee ever, could there be A thought of such-like possibility?
When thou thyself dar'st say thy isles shall lack Grapes before Herrick leaves canary sack.
Thou mak'st me airy, active to be borne, Like Iphiclus, upon the tops of corn.
Thou mak'st me nimble, as the winged hours, To dance and caper on the heads of flowers, And ride the sunbeams. Can there be a thing Under the heavenly Isis[I] that can bring More love unto my life, or can present My genius with a fuller blandishment?
Ill.u.s.trious idol! could th' Egyptians seek Help from the garlic, onion and the leek And pay no vows to thee, who wast their best G.o.d, and far more transcendent than the rest?
Had Ca.s.sius, that weak water-drinker, known Thee in thy vine, or had but tasted one Small chalice of thy frantic liquor, he, As the wise Cato, had approv'd of thee.
Had not Jove's son,[J] that brave Tirynthian swain, Invited to the Thesbian banquet, ta'en Full goblets of thy gen'rous blood, his sprite Ne'er had kept heat for fifty maids that night.
Come, come and kiss me; love and l.u.s.t commends Thee and thy beauties; kiss, we will be friends Too strong for fate to break us. Look upon Me with that full pride of complexion As queens meet queens, or come thou unto me As Cleopatra came to Anthony, When her high carriage did at once present To the triumvir love and wonderment.
Swell up my nerves with spirit; let my blood Run through my veins like to a hasty flood.
Fill each part full of fire, active to do What thy commanding soul shall put it to; And till I turn apostate to thy love, Which here I vow to serve, do not remove Thy fires from me, but Apollo's curse Blast these-like actions, or a thing that's worse.
When these circ.u.mstants shall but live to see The time that I prevaricate from thee.
Call me the son of beer, and then confine Me to the tap, the toast, the turf; let wine Ne'er shine upon me; may my numbers all Run to a sudden death and funeral.
And last, when thee, dear spouse, I disavow, Ne'er may prophetic Daphne crown my brow.
_Convinces_, overcomes.
_Ithaca_, the home of the wanderer Ulysses.
_Iphiclus_ won the foot-race at the funeral games of Pelias.
_Circ.u.mstants_, surroundings.
[H] The sun. (Note in the original edition.)
[I] The moon. (Note in the original edition.)
[J] Hercules. (Note in the original edition.)
198. IMPOSSIBILITIES TO HIS FRIEND.
My faithful friend, if you can see The fruit to grow up, or the tree; If you can see the colour come Into the blushing pear or plum; If you can see the water grow To cakes of ice or flakes of snow; If you can see that drop of rain Lost in the wild sea once again; If you can see how dreams do creep Into the brain by easy sleep: Then there is hope that you may see Her love me once who now hates me.
201. TO LIVE MERRILY AND TO TRUST TO GOOD VERSES.
Now is the time for mirth, Nor cheek or tongue be dumb; For, with the flowery earth, The golden pomp is come.
The golden pomp is come; For now each tree does wear.
Made of her pap and gum, Rich beads of amber here.
Now reigns the rose, and now Th' Arabian dew besmears My uncontrolled brow And my retorted hairs.
Homer, this health to thee, In sack of such a kind That it would make thee see Though thou wert ne'er so blind.
Next, Virgil I'll call forth To pledge this second health In wine, whose each cup's worth An Indian commonwealth.
A goblet next I'll drink To Ovid, and suppose, Made he the pledge, he'd think The world had all one nose.
Then this immensive cup Of aromatic wine, Catullus, I quaff up To that terse muse of thine.
Wild I am now with heat: O Bacchus, cool thy rays!
Or, frantic, I shall eat Thy thyrse and bite the bays.
Round, round the roof does run, And, being ravish'd thus, Come, I will drink a tun To my Propertius.
Now, to Tibullus, next, This flood I drink to thee: But stay, I see a text That this presents to me.