Celia Singing.

Alas what cunning could declineWhat force can love repel?

Alas what cunning could decline

What force can love repel?

Nymph.

Yet, there 's a way to unconfineThy heart.

Yet, there 's a way to unconfine

Thy heart.

Shepherd.

For pity tell.

Nymph.

Choose one whose love may be allur'dBy thine: who ever knewInveterate diseases cur'dBut by receiving new?

Choose one whose love may be allur'd

By thine: who ever knew

Inveterate diseases cur'd

But by receiving new?

Shepherd.

All will like her my soul perplex.

Nymph.

Yet try.

Shepherd.

30Oh could there be,But any softness in that sex,I'd wish it were in thee.

30Oh could there be,

But any softness in that sex,

I'd wish it were in thee.

Nymph.

Thy prayer is heard: learn now t' esteemThe kindness she hath shown,Who thy lost freedom to redeemHath forfeited her own.

Thy prayer is heard: learn now t' esteem

The kindness she hath shown,

Who thy lost freedom to redeem

Hath forfeited her own.

The Cure. As this appears only in1651there are no variants. The 'common measure' has little of the magic common at the time, and is sometimes banal to eighteenth-century level. But we rise in the next.

Roses in breathing forth their scent,Or stars their borrowed ornament;Nymphs in the wat'ry sphere that move,Or Angels in their orbs above;The wingéd chariot of the light,Or the slow silent wheels of night;The shade, which from the swifter sunDoth in a circular motion run;Or souls that their eternal rest do keep,10Make far more noise than Celia's breath in sleep.But if the Angel, which inspiresThis subtile flame with active fires,Should mould this breath to words, and thoseInto a harmony dispose,The music of this heavenly sphereWould steal each soul out at the ear,And into plants and stones infuseA life that Cherubins would choose;And with new powers invert the laws of Fate,20Kill those that live, and dead things animate.

Roses in breathing forth their scent,

Or stars their borrowed ornament;

Nymphs in the wat'ry sphere that move,

Or Angels in their orbs above;

The wingéd chariot of the light,

Or the slow silent wheels of night;

The shade, which from the swifter sun

Doth in a circular motion run;

Or souls that their eternal rest do keep,

10Make far more noise than Celia's breath in sleep.

But if the Angel, which inspiresThis subtile flame with active fires,Should mould this breath to words, and thoseInto a harmony dispose,The music of this heavenly sphereWould steal each soul out at the ear,And into plants and stones infuseA life that Cherubins would choose;And with new powers invert the laws of Fate,20Kill those that live, and dead things animate.

But if the Angel, which inspires

This subtile flame with active fires,

Should mould this breath to words, and those

Into a harmony dispose,

The music of this heavenly sphere

Would steal each soul out at the ear,

And into plants and stones infuse

A life that Cherubins would choose;

And with new powers invert the laws of Fate,

20Kill those that live, and dead things animate.

Celia Singing.]1647'Celia sleeping or singing', and printed without stanza-break.10 more] Some imp of the press altered 'more' to 'less' in the later 'edition'.1647has 'more', which has been restored in text.121647'frame'—tempting, but perhaps not certain.131647'his'—againnescio an recte.191647'power'.

Celia Singing.]1647'Celia sleeping or singing', and printed without stanza-break.

10 more] Some imp of the press altered 'more' to 'less' in the later 'edition'.1647has 'more', which has been restored in text.

121647'frame'—tempting, but perhaps not certain.

131647'his'—againnescio an recte.

191647'power'.

Belle voix, dont les charmes desrobent mon âme,Et au lieu d'un esprit m'animent d'une flamme,Dont je sens la subtile et la douce chaleurEntrer par mon oreille et glisser dans mon cœur;Me faisant esprever par cette aimable vie,Nos âmes ne consistent que d'une harmonie;Que la vie m'est douce, la mort m'est sans peine,Puisqu'on les trouve toutes deux dans ton haleine:Ne m'espargne donc pas; satisfais tes rigueurs;10Car si tu me souffres de vivre, je me meurs.

Belle voix, dont les charmes desrobent mon âme,

Et au lieu d'un esprit m'animent d'une flamme,

Dont je sens la subtile et la douce chaleur

Entrer par mon oreille et glisser dans mon cœur;

Me faisant esprever par cette aimable vie,

Nos âmes ne consistent que d'une harmonie;

Que la vie m'est douce, la mort m'est sans peine,

Puisqu'on les trouve toutes deux dans ton haleine:

Ne m'espargne donc pas; satisfais tes rigueurs;

10Car si tu me souffres de vivre, je me meurs.

A la Mesme]1647'A une Dame qui chantoit'. Stanley does not, like some more modern English writers of French verse, neglect his finale's, but he takes remarkable liberties with the caesura. 'Esprever' (l. 5) is not wrong necessarily.

Beauty, whose soft magnetic chainsBeauty, thy harsh imperious chainsNor time nor absence can untie,As a scorned weight I here untie,Thy power the narrow bounds disdainsSince thy proud empire those disdainsOf Nature or philosophy,Of reason or philosophy,That canst by unconfinéd lawsThat wouldst within tyrannic lawsA motion, though at distance, cause.Confine the power of each free cause.Drawn by the sacred influenceForced by the potent influenceOf thy bright eyes, I back return;Of thy disdain I back return,And since I nowhere can dispenseThus with those flames I do dispense,10With flames that do in absence burn,Which, though they would not light, did burn;I rather choose 'midst them t' expireAnd rather will through cold expireThan languish by a hidden fire.Than languish at a frozen fire.But if thou the insulting prideBut whilst I the insulting prideOf vulgar Beauties dost despise,Of thy vain beauty do despise,Who by vain triumphs deified,Who gladly wouldst be deified,Their votaries do sacrifice,By making me thy sacrifice;Then let those flames, whose magic charmMay love thy heart, which to his charmAt distance scorch'd, approach'd but warm.Approached seemed cold, at distance warm.

Beauty, whose soft magnetic chains

Beauty, thy harsh imperious chains

Nor time nor absence can untie,

As a scorned weight I here untie,

Thy power the narrow bounds disdains

Since thy proud empire those disdains

Of Nature or philosophy,

Of reason or philosophy,

That canst by unconfinéd laws

That wouldst within tyrannic laws

A motion, though at distance, cause.

Confine the power of each free cause.

Drawn by the sacred influenceForced by the potent influenceOf thy bright eyes, I back return;Of thy disdain I back return,And since I nowhere can dispenseThus with those flames I do dispense,10With flames that do in absence burn,Which, though they would not light, did burn;I rather choose 'midst them t' expireAnd rather will through cold expireThan languish by a hidden fire.Than languish at a frozen fire.

Drawn by the sacred influence

Forced by the potent influence

Of thy bright eyes, I back return;

Of thy disdain I back return,

And since I nowhere can dispense

Thus with those flames I do dispense,

10With flames that do in absence burn,

Which, though they would not light, did burn;

I rather choose 'midst them t' expire

And rather will through cold expire

Than languish by a hidden fire.

Than languish at a frozen fire.

But if thou the insulting prideBut whilst I the insulting prideOf vulgar Beauties dost despise,Of thy vain beauty do despise,Who by vain triumphs deified,Who gladly wouldst be deified,Their votaries do sacrifice,By making me thy sacrifice;Then let those flames, whose magic charmMay love thy heart, which to his charmAt distance scorch'd, approach'd but warm.Approached seemed cold, at distance warm.

But if thou the insulting pride

But whilst I the insulting pride

Of vulgar Beauties dost despise,

Of thy vain beauty do despise,

Who by vain triumphs deified,

Who gladly wouldst be deified,

Their votaries do sacrifice,

By making me thy sacrifice;

Then let those flames, whose magic charm

May love thy heart, which to his charm

At distance scorch'd, approach'd but warm.

Approached seemed cold, at distance warm.

The Return—(Palinode.)] The1647edition containstwopoems,The ReturnandPalinode, which stand to each other in a curious relation. In1651Palinodehas disappeared. I have thought it best to print them together. The lines in roman type are those ofThe Return, those in italic belong toPalinode. The latter reappeared in1657, with slight alterations as below. InPal.5 Miss Guiney reads 'would' for 'wouldst', evidently not quite understanding the sense or the grammar of the time. The second person connects itself with the vocative in 'Beauty' and the 'thou' twice implied in 'thy'.InPalinode, l. 7,1657reads 'powerful' for 'potent'; l. 12 'in' for 'at'.InThe Return, l. 2,1651'unite'—an obvious misprint; l. 3,1647'bound'; l. 5,1647'That',1651'Thou'; l. 10,1657'which' for 'that'; l. 11, 'twixt'—not so well; l. 13, 'the' is dropped by mere accident in1651—'the', not 'th',' is required.

InPalinode, l. 7,1657reads 'powerful' for 'potent'; l. 12 'in' for 'at'.

InThe Return, l. 2,1651'unite'—an obvious misprint; l. 3,1647'bound'; l. 5,1647'That',1651'Thou'; l. 10,1657'which' for 'that'; l. 11, 'twixt'—not so well; l. 13, 'the' is dropped by mere accident in1651—'the', not 'th',' is required.

When I lie burning in thine eye.Or freezing in thy breast,What Martyrs, in wish'd flames that die,Are half so pleas'd or blest?When thy soft accents through mine earInto my soul do fly,What Angel would not quit his sphere,To hear such harmony?Or when the kiss thou gav'st me last10My soul stole in its breath,What life would sooner be embrac'dThan so desir'd a death?[When I commanded am by thee,Or by thine eye or hand,What monarch would not prouder beTo serve than to command?]Then think no freedom I desire,Or would my fetters leave,Since Phoenix-like I from this fire20Both life and youth receive.

When I lie burning in thine eye.Or freezing in thy breast,What Martyrs, in wish'd flames that die,Are half so pleas'd or blest?

When I lie burning in thine eye.

Or freezing in thy breast,

What Martyrs, in wish'd flames that die,

Are half so pleas'd or blest?

When thy soft accents through mine earInto my soul do fly,What Angel would not quit his sphere,To hear such harmony?

When thy soft accents through mine ear

Into my soul do fly,

What Angel would not quit his sphere,

To hear such harmony?

Or when the kiss thou gav'st me last10My soul stole in its breath,What life would sooner be embrac'dThan so desir'd a death?

Or when the kiss thou gav'st me last

10My soul stole in its breath,

What life would sooner be embrac'd

Than so desir'd a death?

[When I commanded am by thee,Or by thine eye or hand,What monarch would not prouder beTo serve than to command?]

[When I commanded am by thee,

Or by thine eye or hand,

What monarch would not prouder be

To serve than to command?]

Then think no freedom I desire,Or would my fetters leave,Since Phoenix-like I from this fire20Both life and youth receive.

Then think no freedom I desire,

Or would my fetters leave,

Since Phoenix-like I from this fire

20Both life and youth receive.

Song.] Sir Egerton thought this (which, by the way, Lovelace may have seen, orvice versa) 'a very elegant little song, with all the harmony ofmodernrhythm'. One might perhaps substitute 'with more of the harmony ofcontemporaryrhythm than Stanley always attains'. It is certainly much better thanThe Cure. The bracketed stanza was dropped in1651, but it seemed better to restore it thus in text than to degrade it hither. One or two extremely unimportant misprints occur in one or other version, but are not worth noting.

My sickly breathWastes in a double flame;Whilst Love and DeathTo my poor life lay claim;The fever, in whose heat I melt,By her that causeth it not felt.Thou who aloneCanst, yet wilt grant no ease,Why slight'st thou one10To feed a new disease?Unequal fair! the heart is thine;Ah, why then should the pain be mine?

My sickly breathWastes in a double flame;Whilst Love and DeathTo my poor life lay claim;The fever, in whose heat I melt,By her that causeth it not felt.

My sickly breath

Wastes in a double flame;

Whilst Love and Death

To my poor life lay claim;

The fever, in whose heat I melt,

By her that causeth it not felt.

Thou who aloneCanst, yet wilt grant no ease,Why slight'st thou one10To feed a new disease?Unequal fair! the heart is thine;Ah, why then should the pain be mine?

Thou who alone

Canst, yet wilt grant no ease,

Why slight'st thou one

10To feed a new disease?

Unequal fair! the heart is thine;

Ah, why then should the pain be mine?

The Sick Lover.] Not a great thing. In l. 6, Miss Guiney thinks 'it', which is in all texts, should be 'is'. But 'it' is wanted and 'is' is not. 'The fever not [being] felt' is no excessively 'absolute' construction.

Celinda, by what potent artOr unresisted charm,Dost thou thine ear and frozen heartAgainst my passion arm?Or by what hidden influenceOf powers in one combin'd,Dost thou rob Love of either sense,Made deaf as well as blind?Sure thou, as friends, united hast10Two distant Deities;And scorn within thy heart hast plac'd,And love within thine eyes.Or those soft fetters of thy hair,A bondage that disdainsAll liberty, do guard thine earFree from all other chains.Then my complaint how canst thou hear,Or I this passion fly,Since thou imprison'd hast thine ear,20And not confin'd thine eye?

Celinda, by what potent artOr unresisted charm,Dost thou thine ear and frozen heartAgainst my passion arm?

Celinda, by what potent art

Or unresisted charm,

Dost thou thine ear and frozen heart

Against my passion arm?

Or by what hidden influenceOf powers in one combin'd,Dost thou rob Love of either sense,Made deaf as well as blind?

Or by what hidden influence

Of powers in one combin'd,

Dost thou rob Love of either sense,

Made deaf as well as blind?

Sure thou, as friends, united hast10Two distant Deities;And scorn within thy heart hast plac'd,And love within thine eyes.

Sure thou, as friends, united hast

10Two distant Deities;

And scorn within thy heart hast plac'd,

And love within thine eyes.

Or those soft fetters of thy hair,A bondage that disdainsAll liberty, do guard thine earFree from all other chains.

Or those soft fetters of thy hair,

A bondage that disdains

All liberty, do guard thine ear

Free from all other chains.

Then my complaint how canst thou hear,Or I this passion fly,Since thou imprison'd hast thine ear,20And not confin'd thine eye?

Then my complaint how canst thou hear,

Or I this passion fly,

Since thou imprison'd hast thine ear,

20And not confin'd thine eye?

Song—Celinda, &c.] Again, mere commonplace common measure. 'Thosesoft fetters of thy hair' (l. 13) is at least as good as 'mobled queen', but otherwise the phrase rather sinks to the measure. 'friends' (l. 9) is misprinted 'friend' in1647, and Sir Egerton has mispunctuated 'friends united'.

Fool, take up thy shaft again;If thy storeThou profusely spend in vain,Who can furnish thee with more?Throw not then away thy dartsOn impenetrable hearts.Think not thy pale flame can warmInto tears,Or dissolve the snowy charm10Which her frozen bosom wears,That expos'd, unmelted liesTo the bright suns of her eyes.But since thou thy power hast lost,Nor canst fireKindle in that breast, whose frostDoth these flames in mine inspire,Not to thee but her I'll sue,That disdains both me and you.

Fool, take up thy shaft again;If thy storeThou profusely spend in vain,Who can furnish thee with more?Throw not then away thy dartsOn impenetrable hearts.

Fool, take up thy shaft again;

If thy store

Thou profusely spend in vain,

Who can furnish thee with more?

Throw not then away thy darts

On impenetrable hearts.

Think not thy pale flame can warmInto tears,Or dissolve the snowy charm10Which her frozen bosom wears,That expos'd, unmelted liesTo the bright suns of her eyes.

Think not thy pale flame can warm

Into tears,

Or dissolve the snowy charm

10Which her frozen bosom wears,

That expos'd, unmelted lies

To the bright suns of her eyes.

But since thou thy power hast lost,Nor canst fireKindle in that breast, whose frostDoth these flames in mine inspire,Not to thee but her I'll sue,That disdains both me and you.

But since thou thy power hast lost,

Nor canst fire

Kindle in that breast, whose frost

Doth these flames in mine inspire,

Not to thee but her I'll sue,

That disdains both me and you.

Song—Fool, &c.] An extremely pretty measure, not ill-parted with phrase and imagery. The 'Take, oh! take' motive reappears.

Delay! Alas, there cannot beTo Love a greater tyranny:Those cruel beauties that have slainTheir votaries by their disdain,Or studied torments, sharp and witty,Will be recorded for their pity,And after-ages be misledTo think them kind, when this is spread.Of deaths the speediest is despair,10Delays the slowest tortures are;Thy cruelty at once destroys,But Expectation starves my joys.Time and Delay may bring me pastThe power of Love to cure, at last;And shouldst thou wish to ease my pain,Thy pity might be lent in vain;Or if thou hast decreed, that IMust fall beneath thy cruelty,O kill me soon! Thou wilt express20More mercy, ev'n in showing less.

Delay! Alas, there cannot be

To Love a greater tyranny:

Those cruel beauties that have slain

Their votaries by their disdain,

Or studied torments, sharp and witty,

Will be recorded for their pity,

And after-ages be misled

To think them kind, when this is spread.

Of deaths the speediest is despair,

10Delays the slowest tortures are;

Thy cruelty at once destroys,

But Expectation starves my joys.

Time and Delay may bring me past

The power of Love to cure, at last;

And shouldst thou wish to ease my pain,

Thy pity might be lent in vain;

Or if thou hast decreed, that I

Must fall beneath thy cruelty,

O kill me soon! Thou wilt express

20More mercy, ev'n in showing less.

Strange kind of love! that knows no president,A faith so firm as passeth Faith's extent,By a tyrannic beauty long subdu'd,I now must sue for her to whom I su'd,Unhappy Orator! who, though I moveFor pity, pity cannot hope to prove:Employing thus against myself my breath,And in another's life begging my death.But if such moving powers my accents have,10Why first my own redress do I not crave?What hopes that I to pity should inclineAnother's breast, who can move none in thine?Or how can the griev'd patient look for ease,When the physician suffers the disease?If thy sharp wounds from me expect their cure,'Tis fit those first be heal'd that I endure.Ungentle fair one! why dost thou dispenseUnequally thy sacred influence?Why pining me, offer'st the precious food20To one by whom nor priz'd, nor understood;So some clear brook to the full main, to payHer needless crystal tribute hastes away,Profusely foolish; whilst her niggard tideStarves the poor flowers that grow along her side.Thou who my glories art design'd to own,Come then, and reap the joys that I have sown:Yet in thy pride acknowledge, though thou bearThe happy prize away, the palm I wear.Nor the obedience of my flame accuse,30That what I sought, myself conspir'd to lose:The hapless state where I am fix'd is such,To love I seem not, 'cause I love too much.

Strange kind of love! that knows no president,

A faith so firm as passeth Faith's extent,

By a tyrannic beauty long subdu'd,

I now must sue for her to whom I su'd,

Unhappy Orator! who, though I move

For pity, pity cannot hope to prove:

Employing thus against myself my breath,

And in another's life begging my death.

But if such moving powers my accents have,10Why first my own redress do I not crave?What hopes that I to pity should inclineAnother's breast, who can move none in thine?Or how can the griev'd patient look for ease,When the physician suffers the disease?If thy sharp wounds from me expect their cure,'Tis fit those first be heal'd that I endure.

But if such moving powers my accents have,

10Why first my own redress do I not crave?

What hopes that I to pity should incline

Another's breast, who can move none in thine?

Or how can the griev'd patient look for ease,

When the physician suffers the disease?

If thy sharp wounds from me expect their cure,

'Tis fit those first be heal'd that I endure.

Ungentle fair one! why dost thou dispenseUnequally thy sacred influence?Why pining me, offer'st the precious food20To one by whom nor priz'd, nor understood;So some clear brook to the full main, to payHer needless crystal tribute hastes away,Profusely foolish; whilst her niggard tideStarves the poor flowers that grow along her side.

Ungentle fair one! why dost thou dispense

Unequally thy sacred influence?

Why pining me, offer'st the precious food

20To one by whom nor priz'd, nor understood;

So some clear brook to the full main, to pay

Her needless crystal tribute hastes away,

Profusely foolish; whilst her niggard tide

Starves the poor flowers that grow along her side.

Thou who my glories art design'd to own,Come then, and reap the joys that I have sown:Yet in thy pride acknowledge, though thou bearThe happy prize away, the palm I wear.Nor the obedience of my flame accuse,30That what I sought, myself conspir'd to lose:The hapless state where I am fix'd is such,To love I seem not, 'cause I love too much.

Thou who my glories art design'd to own,

Come then, and reap the joys that I have sown:

Yet in thy pride acknowledge, though thou bear

The happy prize away, the palm I wear.

Nor the obedience of my flame accuse,

30That what I sought, myself conspir'd to lose:

The hapless state where I am fix'd is such,

To love I seem not, 'cause I love too much.

Commanded by his Mistress, &c.] Marino[i]'s name is so frequent in books on literature, and his work so little known to the ordinary reader, that this example may be welcome. The rather snip-snap antithesis, and the somewhat obvious conceit, show the famous Italian really at his worst. 'President' (l. 1), though not impossible, is probably for 'precedent'. The whole piece has a special interest as showing how this 'conceit' and 'false wit' actually encouraged the growth of the stopped antithetic couplet which was to be turned against both.

Not that by this disdainI am releas'd,And freed from thy tyrannic chain,Do I myself think bless'd;Nor that thy flame shall burnNo more; for knowThat I shall into ashes turn,Before this fire doth so.Nor yet that unconfin'd10I now may rove,And with new beauties please my mind,But that thou ne'er didst love:For since thou hast no partFelt of this flame,I only from thy tyrant heartRepuls'd, not banish'd am.To lose what once was mineWould grieve me moreThan those inconstant sweets of thine20Had pleas'd my soul before.Now I have not lost the blissI ne'er possest;And spite of fate am blest in this,That I was never blest.

Not that by this disdainI am releas'd,And freed from thy tyrannic chain,Do I myself think bless'd;

Not that by this disdain

I am releas'd,

And freed from thy tyrannic chain,

Do I myself think bless'd;

Nor that thy flame shall burnNo more; for knowThat I shall into ashes turn,Before this fire doth so.

Nor that thy flame shall burn

No more; for know

That I shall into ashes turn,

Before this fire doth so.

Nor yet that unconfin'd10I now may rove,And with new beauties please my mind,But that thou ne'er didst love:

Nor yet that unconfin'd

10I now may rove,

And with new beauties please my mind,

But that thou ne'er didst love:

For since thou hast no partFelt of this flame,I only from thy tyrant heartRepuls'd, not banish'd am.

For since thou hast no part

Felt of this flame,

I only from thy tyrant heart

Repuls'd, not banish'd am.

To lose what once was mineWould grieve me moreThan those inconstant sweets of thine20Had pleas'd my soul before.

To lose what once was mine

Would grieve me more

Than those inconstant sweets of thine

20Had pleas'd my soul before.

Now I have not lost the blissI ne'er possest;And spite of fate am blest in this,That I was never blest.

Now I have not lost the bliss

I ne'er possest;

And spite of fate am blest in this,

That I was never blest.

The Repulse.] In the third line of this rather fine poem1656reads 'romantic' for 'tyrannic', and Miss Guiney adopts it. To me it seems quite inappropriate, and one of the errors of dictation so common in that 'edition'.211647reads 'thatbliss'.

211647reads 'thatbliss'.

When, cruel fair one, I am slainBy thy disdain,And, as a trophy of thy scorn,To some old tomb am borne,Thy fetters must their power bequeathTo those of Death;Nor can thy flame immortal burn,Like monumental fires within an urn;Thus freed from thy proud empire, I shall prove10There is more liberty in Death than Love.And when forsaken Lovers come,To see my tomb,Take heed thou mix not with the crowdAnd (as a Victor) proudTo view the spoils thy beauty madePress near my shade,Lest thy too cruel breath or nameShould fan my ashes back into a flame,And thou, devour'd by this revengeful fire,20His sacrifice, who died as thine, expire.[Or should my dust thy pity moveThat could not love,Thy sighs might wake me, and thy tearsRenew my life and years.Or should thy proud insulting scornLaugh at my urn,Kindly deceived by thy disdain,I might be smil'd into new life again.Then come not near, since both thy love and hate30Have equal power to love or animate.]But if cold earth, or marble, mustConceal my dust,Whilst hid in some dark ruins, IDumb and forgotten lie,The pride of all thy victoryWill sleep with me;And they who should attest thy glory,Will, or forget, or not believe this story.Then to increase thy triumph, let me rest,40Since by thine eye slain, buried in thy breast.

When, cruel fair one, I am slain

By thy disdain,

And, as a trophy of thy scorn,

To some old tomb am borne,

Thy fetters must their power bequeath

To those of Death;

Nor can thy flame immortal burn,

Like monumental fires within an urn;

Thus freed from thy proud empire, I shall prove

10There is more liberty in Death than Love.

And when forsaken Lovers come,To see my tomb,Take heed thou mix not with the crowdAnd (as a Victor) proudTo view the spoils thy beauty madePress near my shade,Lest thy too cruel breath or nameShould fan my ashes back into a flame,And thou, devour'd by this revengeful fire,20His sacrifice, who died as thine, expire.

And when forsaken Lovers come,

To see my tomb,

Take heed thou mix not with the crowd

And (as a Victor) proud

To view the spoils thy beauty made

Press near my shade,

Lest thy too cruel breath or name

Should fan my ashes back into a flame,

And thou, devour'd by this revengeful fire,

20His sacrifice, who died as thine, expire.

[Or should my dust thy pity moveThat could not love,Thy sighs might wake me, and thy tearsRenew my life and years.Or should thy proud insulting scornLaugh at my urn,Kindly deceived by thy disdain,I might be smil'd into new life again.Then come not near, since both thy love and hate30Have equal power to love or animate.]

[Or should my dust thy pity move

That could not love,

Thy sighs might wake me, and thy tears

Renew my life and years.

Or should thy proud insulting scorn

Laugh at my urn,

Kindly deceived by thy disdain,

I might be smil'd into new life again.

Then come not near, since both thy love and hate

30Have equal power to love or animate.]

But if cold earth, or marble, mustConceal my dust,Whilst hid in some dark ruins, IDumb and forgotten lie,The pride of all thy victoryWill sleep with me;And they who should attest thy glory,Will, or forget, or not believe this story.Then to increase thy triumph, let me rest,40Since by thine eye slain, buried in thy breast.

But if cold earth, or marble, must

Conceal my dust,

Whilst hid in some dark ruins, I

Dumb and forgotten lie,

The pride of all thy victory

Will sleep with me;

And they who should attest thy glory,

Will, or forget, or not believe this story.

Then to increase thy triumph, let me rest,

40Since by thine eye slain, buried in thy breast.

The Tomb.] Brydges, though thinking the end of this poem 'a feeble conceit', admits that 'there are passages in it that are more than pretty'. It is certainly one of Stanley's best, and he seems to have taken some trouble with it. In1651he dropped the bracketed stanza 3 and substituted the text for the last couplet of stanza 2, which reads in1647:And (thou in this fire sacrificed to me)We might each other's mutual martyr be.In the last line of the omitted stanza 'love' is certainly wrong, and Miss Guiney's suggestion of 'kill' is almostcertissima. But she seems to have had a different copy of1647before her from that which I collated, for she does not notice a variant, or set of variants, in ll. 37-9:And theythatshouldthis triumph knowWill or forget or not believeit so,Then to increase thyglories, &c.In l. 51647reads 'thy power'.

And (thou in this fire sacrificed to me)We might each other's mutual martyr be.

And (thou in this fire sacrificed to me)

We might each other's mutual martyr be.

In the last line of the omitted stanza 'love' is certainly wrong, and Miss Guiney's suggestion of 'kill' is almostcertissima. But she seems to have had a different copy of1647before her from that which I collated, for she does not notice a variant, or set of variants, in ll. 37-9:

And theythatshouldthis triumph knowWill or forget or not believeit so,Then to increase thyglories, &c.

And theythatshouldthis triumph know

Will or forget or not believeit so,

Then to increase thyglories, &c.

In l. 51647reads 'thy power'.

Far from the court's ambitious noiseRetir'd, to those more harmless joysWhich the sweet country, pleasant fields,And my own court, a cottage, yields;I liv'd from all disturbance free,Though prisoner (Sylvia) unto thee;Secur'd from fears, which others prove,Of the inconstancy of Love;A life, in my esteem, more blest,10Than e'er yet stoop'd to Death's arrest.My senses and desires agreed,With joint delight each other feed:A bliss, I reach'd, as far aboveWords, as her beauty, or my love;Such as compar'd with which, the joysOf the most happy seem but toys:Affection I receive and pay,My pleasures knew not Grief's allay:The more I tasted I desir'd,20The more I quench'd my thirst was fir'd.Now, in some place where Nature showsHer naked beauty, we repose;Where she allures the wand'ring eyeWith colours, which faint art outvie;Pearls scatter'd by the weeping morn,Each where the glitt'ring flowers adorn;The mistress of the youthful year(To whom kind Zephyrus doth bearHis amorous vows and frequent prayer)30Decks with these gems her neck and hair.Hither, to quicken Time with sport,The little sprightly Loves resort,And dancing o'er the enamel'd mead,Their mistresses the Graces lead;Then to refresh themselves, repairTo the soft bosom of my fair;Where from the kisses they bestowUpon each other, such sweets flowAs carry in their mixéd breath40A mutual power of life and death.Next in an elm's dilated shadeWe see a rugged Satyr laid,Teaching his reed, in a soft strain,Of his sweet anguish to complain;Then to a lonely grove retreat,Where day can no admittance get,To visit peaceful solitude;Whom seeing by repose pursu'd,All busy cares, for fear to spoil50Their calmer courtship, we exile.There underneath a myrtle, thoughtBy Fairies sacred, where was wroughtBy Venus' hand Love's mysteries,And all the trophies of her eyes,Our solemn prayers to Heaven we send,That our firm love might know no end;Nor time its vigour e'er impair:Then to the wingéd God we sware,And grav'd the oath in its smooth rind,60Which in our hearts we deeper find.Then to my dear (as if afraidTo try her doubted faith) I said,'Would in thy soul my form as clear,As in thy eyes I see it, were.'She kindly angry saith, 'Thou artDrawn more at large within my heart;These figures in my eye appearBut small, because they are not near,Thou through these glasses seest thy face,70As pictures through their crystal case.'Now with delight transported, IMy wreathéd arms about her tie;The flattering Ivy never holdsHer husband Elm in stricter folds:To cool my fervent thirst, I sipDelicious nectar from her lip.She pledges, and so often pastThis amorous health, till Love at lastOur souls did with these pleasures sate,80And equally inebriate.Awhile, our senses stol'n away,Lost in this ecstasy we lay,Till both together rais'd to life,We re-engage in this kind strife.Cythaera with her Syrian boyCould never reach our meanest joy.The childish God of Love ne'er triedSo much of love with his cold bride,As we in one embrace include,90Contesting each to be subdu'd.

Far from the court's ambitious noise

Retir'd, to those more harmless joys

Which the sweet country, pleasant fields,

And my own court, a cottage, yields;

I liv'd from all disturbance free,

Though prisoner (Sylvia) unto thee;

Secur'd from fears, which others prove,

Of the inconstancy of Love;

A life, in my esteem, more blest,

10Than e'er yet stoop'd to Death's arrest.

My senses and desires agreed,With joint delight each other feed:A bliss, I reach'd, as far aboveWords, as her beauty, or my love;Such as compar'd with which, the joysOf the most happy seem but toys:Affection I receive and pay,My pleasures knew not Grief's allay:The more I tasted I desir'd,20The more I quench'd my thirst was fir'd.

My senses and desires agreed,

With joint delight each other feed:

A bliss, I reach'd, as far above

Words, as her beauty, or my love;

Such as compar'd with which, the joys

Of the most happy seem but toys:

Affection I receive and pay,

My pleasures knew not Grief's allay:

The more I tasted I desir'd,

20The more I quench'd my thirst was fir'd.

Now, in some place where Nature showsHer naked beauty, we repose;Where she allures the wand'ring eyeWith colours, which faint art outvie;Pearls scatter'd by the weeping morn,Each where the glitt'ring flowers adorn;The mistress of the youthful year(To whom kind Zephyrus doth bearHis amorous vows and frequent prayer)30Decks with these gems her neck and hair.

Now, in some place where Nature shows

Her naked beauty, we repose;

Where she allures the wand'ring eye

With colours, which faint art outvie;

Pearls scatter'd by the weeping morn,

Each where the glitt'ring flowers adorn;

The mistress of the youthful year

(To whom kind Zephyrus doth bear

His amorous vows and frequent prayer)

30Decks with these gems her neck and hair.

Hither, to quicken Time with sport,The little sprightly Loves resort,And dancing o'er the enamel'd mead,Their mistresses the Graces lead;Then to refresh themselves, repairTo the soft bosom of my fair;Where from the kisses they bestowUpon each other, such sweets flowAs carry in their mixéd breath40A mutual power of life and death.

Hither, to quicken Time with sport,

The little sprightly Loves resort,

And dancing o'er the enamel'd mead,

Their mistresses the Graces lead;

Then to refresh themselves, repair

To the soft bosom of my fair;

Where from the kisses they bestow

Upon each other, such sweets flow

As carry in their mixéd breath

40A mutual power of life and death.

Next in an elm's dilated shadeWe see a rugged Satyr laid,Teaching his reed, in a soft strain,Of his sweet anguish to complain;Then to a lonely grove retreat,Where day can no admittance get,To visit peaceful solitude;Whom seeing by repose pursu'd,All busy cares, for fear to spoil50Their calmer courtship, we exile.

Next in an elm's dilated shade

We see a rugged Satyr laid,

Teaching his reed, in a soft strain,

Of his sweet anguish to complain;

Then to a lonely grove retreat,

Where day can no admittance get,

To visit peaceful solitude;

Whom seeing by repose pursu'd,

All busy cares, for fear to spoil

50Their calmer courtship, we exile.

There underneath a myrtle, thoughtBy Fairies sacred, where was wroughtBy Venus' hand Love's mysteries,And all the trophies of her eyes,Our solemn prayers to Heaven we send,That our firm love might know no end;Nor time its vigour e'er impair:Then to the wingéd God we sware,And grav'd the oath in its smooth rind,60Which in our hearts we deeper find.

There underneath a myrtle, thought

By Fairies sacred, where was wrought

By Venus' hand Love's mysteries,

And all the trophies of her eyes,

Our solemn prayers to Heaven we send,

That our firm love might know no end;

Nor time its vigour e'er impair:

Then to the wingéd God we sware,

And grav'd the oath in its smooth rind,

60Which in our hearts we deeper find.

Then to my dear (as if afraidTo try her doubted faith) I said,'Would in thy soul my form as clear,As in thy eyes I see it, were.'She kindly angry saith, 'Thou artDrawn more at large within my heart;These figures in my eye appearBut small, because they are not near,Thou through these glasses seest thy face,70As pictures through their crystal case.'

Then to my dear (as if afraid

To try her doubted faith) I said,

'Would in thy soul my form as clear,

As in thy eyes I see it, were.'

She kindly angry saith, 'Thou art

Drawn more at large within my heart;

These figures in my eye appear

But small, because they are not near,

Thou through these glasses seest thy face,

70As pictures through their crystal case.'

Now with delight transported, IMy wreathéd arms about her tie;The flattering Ivy never holdsHer husband Elm in stricter folds:To cool my fervent thirst, I sipDelicious nectar from her lip.She pledges, and so often pastThis amorous health, till Love at lastOur souls did with these pleasures sate,80And equally inebriate.

Now with delight transported, I

My wreathéd arms about her tie;

The flattering Ivy never holds

Her husband Elm in stricter folds:

To cool my fervent thirst, I sip

Delicious nectar from her lip.

She pledges, and so often past

This amorous health, till Love at last

Our souls did with these pleasures sate,

80And equally inebriate.

Awhile, our senses stol'n away,Lost in this ecstasy we lay,Till both together rais'd to life,We re-engage in this kind strife.Cythaera with her Syrian boyCould never reach our meanest joy.The childish God of Love ne'er triedSo much of love with his cold bride,As we in one embrace include,90Contesting each to be subdu'd.

Awhile, our senses stol'n away,

Lost in this ecstasy we lay,

Till both together rais'd to life,

We re-engage in this kind strife.

Cythaera with her Syrian boy

Could never reach our meanest joy.

The childish God of Love ne'er tried

So much of love with his cold bride,

As we in one embrace include,

90Contesting each to be subdu'd.

The Enjoyment.]La Jouissance, one of Saint-Amant's early lyric pieces, which is here translated, was not so famous as hisSolitude, which will be found (Englished by the matchless Orinda a little after Stanley's time) in vol. i, p. 601, of this collection; but it was popular and much imitated. Stanley has cut it down considerably, for the original has nineteen stanzas—some of them, I suppose, too 'warm' for the translator's modest muse.59 Brydges misprints 'kind'

59 Brydges misprints 'kind'

Dear, urge no more that killing causeOf our divorce;Love is not fetter'd by such laws,Nor bows to any force:Though thou deniest I should be thine,Yet say not thou deserv'st not to be mine.Oh rather frown away my breathWith thy disdain,Or flatter me with smiles to death;10By joy or sorrow slain,'Tis less crime to be kill'd by thee,Than I thus cause of mine own death should be.Thyself of beauty to divest,And me of love,Or from the worth of thine own breastThus to detract, would proveIn us a blindness, and in theeAt best a sacrilegious modesty.But, Celia, if thou wilt despise20What all admire,Nor rate thyself at the just priceOf beauty or desire,Yet meet my flames, and thou shalt seeThat equal love knows no disparity.

Dear, urge no more that killing causeOf our divorce;Love is not fetter'd by such laws,Nor bows to any force:Though thou deniest I should be thine,Yet say not thou deserv'st not to be mine.

Dear, urge no more that killing cause

Of our divorce;

Love is not fetter'd by such laws,

Nor bows to any force:

Though thou deniest I should be thine,

Yet say not thou deserv'st not to be mine.

Oh rather frown away my breathWith thy disdain,Or flatter me with smiles to death;10By joy or sorrow slain,'Tis less crime to be kill'd by thee,Than I thus cause of mine own death should be.

Oh rather frown away my breath

With thy disdain,

Or flatter me with smiles to death;

10By joy or sorrow slain,

'Tis less crime to be kill'd by thee,

Than I thus cause of mine own death should be.

Thyself of beauty to divest,And me of love,Or from the worth of thine own breastThus to detract, would proveIn us a blindness, and in theeAt best a sacrilegious modesty.

Thyself of beauty to divest,

And me of love,

Or from the worth of thine own breast

Thus to detract, would prove

In us a blindness, and in thee

At best a sacrilegious modesty.

But, Celia, if thou wilt despise20What all admire,Nor rate thyself at the just priceOf beauty or desire,Yet meet my flames, and thou shalt seeThat equal love knows no disparity.

But, Celia, if thou wilt despise

20What all admire,

Nor rate thyself at the just price

Of beauty or desire,

Yet meet my flames, and thou shalt see

That equal love knows no disparity.

To Celia Pleading, &c.]1647has in title 'ToOne that Pleaded her own', and 'Dearest' for 'Celia' in l. 19.

See how this Ivy strives to twineHer wanton arms about the Vine,And her coy lover thus restrains,Entangled in her amorous chains;See how these neighb'ring Palms do bendTheir heads, and mutual murmurs send,As whispering with a jealous fearTheir loves, into each other's ear.Then blush not such a flame to own,10As like thyself no crime hath known;Led by these harmless guides, we mayEmbrace and kiss as well as they.And like those blesséd souls above,Whose life is harmony and love,Let us our mutual thoughts betray,And in our wills our minds display;This silent speech is swifter farThan the ears' lazy species are;And the expression it affords,As our desires, 'bove reach of words.20Thus we, my dear, of these may learnA passion others not discern;Nor can it shame or blushes move,Like plants to live, like Angels love:Since all excuse with equal innocence,What above reason is, or beneath sense.

See how this Ivy strives to twine

Her wanton arms about the Vine,

And her coy lover thus restrains,

Entangled in her amorous chains;

See how these neighb'ring Palms do bend

Their heads, and mutual murmurs send,

As whispering with a jealous fear

Their loves, into each other's ear.

Then blush not such a flame to own,

10As like thyself no crime hath known;

Led by these harmless guides, we may

Embrace and kiss as well as they.

And like those blesséd souls above,

Whose life is harmony and love,

Let us our mutual thoughts betray,

And in our wills our minds display;

This silent speech is swifter far

Than the ears' lazy species are;

And the expression it affords,

As our desires, 'bove reach of words.

20Thus we, my dear, of these may learn

A passion others not discern;

Nor can it shame or blushes move,

Like plants to live, like Angels love:

Since all excuse with equal innocence,

What above reason is, or beneath sense.

Love's Innocence.] In1647the following differences occur: Title, 'The Innocence of Love'; l. 1, '(Dear) doth twine' for 'strives to twine'; l. 7, 'To one another whispering there'; ll. 9-10, 'Then blush not,Fair, thatflame toshow, Whichlike thyself no crimecan know'; ll. 11-12, 'Thus led by those chasteguides, we may Embrace and kiss asfreeas they'; l. 20, 'Asare our flames'; l. 21, 'Thus,Doris, we'.

Now Love be prais'd! that cruel fair,Who my poor heart restrainsUnder so many chains,Hath weav'd a new one for it of her hair.These threads of amber us'd to playWith every courtly wind;And never were confin'd;But in a thousand curls allow'd to stray.Cruel each part of her is grown;10Nor less unkind than sheThese fetters are to me,Which to restrain my freedom, lose their own.

Now Love be prais'd! that cruel fair,Who my poor heart restrainsUnder so many chains,Hath weav'd a new one for it of her hair.

Now Love be prais'd! that cruel fair,

Who my poor heart restrains

Under so many chains,

Hath weav'd a new one for it of her hair.

These threads of amber us'd to playWith every courtly wind;And never were confin'd;But in a thousand curls allow'd to stray.

These threads of amber us'd to play

With every courtly wind;

And never were confin'd;

But in a thousand curls allow'd to stray.

Cruel each part of her is grown;10Nor less unkind than sheThese fetters are to me,Which to restrain my freedom, lose their own.

Cruel each part of her is grown;

10Nor less unkind than she

These fetters are to me,

Which to restrain my freedom, lose their own.

The Bracelet.] Little survives, even in literary memories, of François Tristan l'Hermite (1601-1655), except the success of hisMarianne(Mariamne), 1636, one of the most famous French tragedies of the period outside Corneille. M. Ed. Fournier gave him a niche in Crépet'sPoètes Français(Paris, 1861), ii. 539-52, but did not include the original of this piece. TheIn Memoriamrhyme-order, though the line lengths are different, is interesting. Stanley had perhaps borrowed, before translating it, the 'soft fetters of her hair', noted above, though the fancy is of course primaeval and perennial.

When on thy lip my soul I breathe,Which there meets thine,Freed from their fetters by this deathOur subtle forms combine;Thus without bonds of sense they move,And like two Cherubins converse by love.Spirits, to chains of earth confin'd,Discourse by sense;But ours, that are by flames refin'd,10With those weak ties dispense.Let such in words their minds display;We in a kiss our mutual thoughts convey.But since my soul from me doth fly,To thee retir'd,Thou canst not both retain: for IMust be with one inspir'd.Then, dearest, either justly mineRestore, or in exchange let me have thine.Yet, if thou dost return mine own,20Oh tak't again!For 'tis this pleasing death aloneGives ease unto my pain.Kill me once more, or I shall findThy pity, than thy cruelty, less kind.

When on thy lip my soul I breathe,Which there meets thine,Freed from their fetters by this deathOur subtle forms combine;Thus without bonds of sense they move,And like two Cherubins converse by love.

When on thy lip my soul I breathe,

Which there meets thine,

Freed from their fetters by this death

Our subtle forms combine;

Thus without bonds of sense they move,

And like two Cherubins converse by love.

Spirits, to chains of earth confin'd,Discourse by sense;But ours, that are by flames refin'd,10With those weak ties dispense.Let such in words their minds display;We in a kiss our mutual thoughts convey.

Spirits, to chains of earth confin'd,

Discourse by sense;

But ours, that are by flames refin'd,

10With those weak ties dispense.

Let such in words their minds display;

We in a kiss our mutual thoughts convey.

But since my soul from me doth fly,To thee retir'd,Thou canst not both retain: for IMust be with one inspir'd.Then, dearest, either justly mineRestore, or in exchange let me have thine.

But since my soul from me doth fly,

To thee retir'd,

Thou canst not both retain: for I

Must be with one inspir'd.

Then, dearest, either justly mine

Restore, or in exchange let me have thine.

Yet, if thou dost return mine own,20Oh tak't again!For 'tis this pleasing death aloneGives ease unto my pain.Kill me once more, or I shall findThy pity, than thy cruelty, less kind.

Yet, if thou dost return mine own,

20Oh tak't again!

For 'tis this pleasing death alone

Gives ease unto my pain.

Kill me once more, or I shall find

Thy pity, than thy cruelty, less kind.

The Kiss.] Title in1647'ThekillingKiss', and several other variants. An answer to this poem appears in Jordan'sClaraphi and Clarinda.41647'They both unite and join'. But Miss Guiney's suspicion that 'forms' may be a misprint obviously shows forgetfulness of the philosophical sense of the word = 'ideas', 'immortal parts'. Cf. Spenser, 'For soul isform'.6 by]1647'and'—perhaps better.121647'Our lips, not tongues, each other's thoughts betray'. (Miss Guiney's copy seems to have 'ourtongues', which cannot be right.)15 for I] and I1647.17 dearest]1647'Doris'. This is the second time (v. sup., p.126) that poor Doris has been disestablished.

The Kiss.] Title in1647'ThekillingKiss', and several other variants. An answer to this poem appears in Jordan'sClaraphi and Clarinda.

41647'They both unite and join'. But Miss Guiney's suspicion that 'forms' may be a misprint obviously shows forgetfulness of the philosophical sense of the word = 'ideas', 'immortal parts'. Cf. Spenser, 'For soul isform'.

6 by]1647'and'—perhaps better.

121647'Our lips, not tongues, each other's thoughts betray'. (Miss Guiney's copy seems to have 'ourtongues', which cannot be right.)

15 for I] and I1647.

17 dearest]1647'Doris'. This is the second time (v. sup., p.126) that poor Doris has been disestablished.

When Phoebus saw a rugged bark beguileHis love, and his embraces intercept,The leaves, instructed by his grief to smile,Taking fresh growth and verdure as he wept:'How can', saith he, 'my woes expect release,When tears the subject of my tears increase!'His chang'd, yet scorn-retaining Fair he kiss'd,From the lov'd trunk plucking a little bough;And though the conquest which he sought he miss'd,10With that triumphant spoil adorns his brow.Thus this disdainful maid his aim deceives:Where he expected fruit he gathers leaves.

When Phoebus saw a rugged bark beguile

His love, and his embraces intercept,

The leaves, instructed by his grief to smile,

Taking fresh growth and verdure as he wept:

'How can', saith he, 'my woes expect release,

When tears the subject of my tears increase!'

His chang'd, yet scorn-retaining Fair he kiss'd,From the lov'd trunk plucking a little bough;And though the conquest which he sought he miss'd,10With that triumphant spoil adorns his brow.Thus this disdainful maid his aim deceives:Where he expected fruit he gathers leaves.

His chang'd, yet scorn-retaining Fair he kiss'd,

From the lov'd trunk plucking a little bough;

And though the conquest which he sought he miss'd,

10With that triumphant spoil adorns his brow.

Thus this disdainful maid his aim deceives:

Where he expected fruit he gathers leaves.

Apollo and Daphne.] Why Garcilasso I do not know. Marini's name was Giambattista.6 The first 'tears' certainly looks odd, and Miss Guiney conjectures 'leaves'. But the ways of Marinism are not thus. Apollo's tearswateredthe laurel and so made it grow. His tears increased their subject, the vapid vegetable substitute for Daphne's flesh and blood.

Apollo and Daphne.] Why Garcilasso I do not know. Marini's name was Giambattista.

6 The first 'tears' certainly looks odd, and Miss Guiney conjectures 'leaves'. But the ways of Marinism are not thus. Apollo's tearswateredthe laurel and so made it grow. His tears increased their subject, the vapid vegetable substitute for Daphne's flesh and blood.

The air, which thy smooth voice doth break,Into my soul like lightning flies;My life retires whilst thou dost speak,And thy soft breath its room supplies.Lost in this pleasing ecstasy,I join my trembling lips to thine;And back receive that life from thee,Which I so gladly did resign.Forbear, Platonic fools, t' inquireWhat numbers do the soul compose!No harmony can life inspire,But that which from these accents flows.

The air, which thy smooth voice doth break,Into my soul like lightning flies;My life retires whilst thou dost speak,And thy soft breath its room supplies.

The air, which thy smooth voice doth break,

Into my soul like lightning flies;

My life retires whilst thou dost speak,

And thy soft breath its room supplies.

Lost in this pleasing ecstasy,I join my trembling lips to thine;And back receive that life from thee,Which I so gladly did resign.

Lost in this pleasing ecstasy,

I join my trembling lips to thine;

And back receive that life from thee,

Which I so gladly did resign.

Forbear, Platonic fools, t' inquireWhat numbers do the soul compose!No harmony can life inspire,But that which from these accents flows.

Forbear, Platonic fools, t' inquire

What numbers do the soul compose!

No harmony can life inspire,

But that which from these accents flows.

Speaking and Kissing.] This issmarterthan Stanley's usual style.

Doris, I that could repelAll those darts about thee dwell,And had wisely learn'd to fear,'Cause I saw a foe so near;I that my deaf ear did arm'Gainst thy voice's powerful charm,And the lightning of thine eyeDurst (by closing mine) defy,Cannot this cold snow withstand10From the whiter of thy hand.Thy deceit hath thus done moreThan thy open force before:For who could suspect or fearTreason in a face so clear;Or the hidden fires descryWrapt in this cold outside lie?Flames might thus involv'd in iceThe deceiv'd world sacrifice;Nature, ignorant of this20Strange antiperistasis,Would her falling frame admire,That by snow were set on fire.

Doris, I that could repel

All those darts about thee dwell,

And had wisely learn'd to fear,

'Cause I saw a foe so near;

I that my deaf ear did arm

'Gainst thy voice's powerful charm,

And the lightning of thine eye

Durst (by closing mine) defy,

Cannot this cold snow withstand

10From the whiter of thy hand.

Thy deceit hath thus done more

Than thy open force before:

For who could suspect or fear

Treason in a face so clear;

Or the hidden fires descry

Wrapt in this cold outside lie?

Flames might thus involv'd in ice

The deceiv'd world sacrifice;

Nature, ignorant of this

20Strange antiperistasis,

Would her falling frame admire,

That by snow were set on fire.

The Snow-ball.] Doris maintains here the place she lost above. The tripping seventeenth-century 'sevens' are well spent on her. In l. 10 Miss Guiney thinks that 'whiter', the sole reading, must be 'winter'.ἥκιστα: that Stanley meant 'the whitersnow' is, to me, certain.20 'Antiperistasis' = 'reaction' or 'topsyturvyfication' (Thackeray).

20 'Antiperistasis' = 'reaction' or 'topsyturvyfication' (Thackeray).

Though when I lov'd thee thou wert fair,Thou art no longer so;Those glories all the pride they wearUnto opinion owe;Beauties, like stars, in borrow'd lustre shine;And 'twas my love that gave thee thine.The flames that dwelt within thine eyeDo now, with mine, expire;Thy brightest graces fade and die10At once with my desire;Love's fires thus mutual influence return;Thine cease to shine, when mine to burn.Then, proud Celinda, hope no moreTo be implor'd or woo'd,Since by thy scorn thou dost restoreThe wealth my love bestow'd;And thy despis'd disdain too late shall findThat none are fair but who are kind.

Though when I lov'd thee thou wert fair,

Thou art no longer so;

Those glories all the pride they wear

Unto opinion owe;

Beauties, like stars, in borrow'd lustre shine;

And 'twas my love that gave thee thine.

The flames that dwelt within thine eyeDo now, with mine, expire;Thy brightest graces fade and die10At once with my desire;Love's fires thus mutual influence return;Thine cease to shine, when mine to burn.

The flames that dwelt within thine eye

Do now, with mine, expire;

Thy brightest graces fade and die

10At once with my desire;

Love's fires thus mutual influence return;

Thine cease to shine, when mine to burn.

Then, proud Celinda, hope no moreTo be implor'd or woo'd,Since by thy scorn thou dost restoreThe wealth my love bestow'd;And thy despis'd disdain too late shall findThat none are fair but who are kind.

Then, proud Celinda, hope no more

To be implor'd or woo'd,

Since by thy scorn thou dost restore

The wealth my love bestow'd;

And thy despis'd disdain too late shall find

That none are fair but who are kind.

The Deposition.] In1647'ADepositionfrom Beauty'. Also l. 3, 'do' for 'all'; l. 9, 'glories' for 'graces'; l. 16, 'That' for 'The' and 'which' for 'my'.

Far from thy dearest self, the scopeOf all my aims,I waste in secret flames;And only live because I hope.Oh, when will Fate restoreThe joys, in whose bright fireMy expectation shall expire,That I may live because I hope no more!

Far from thy dearest self, the scope

Of all my aims,

I waste in secret flames;

And only live because I hope.

Oh, when will Fate restore

The joys, in whose bright fire

My expectation shall expire,

That I may live because I hope no more!

He whose active thoughts disdainTo be captive to one foe,And would break his single chain,Or else more would undergo;Let him learn the art of me,By new bondage to be free!What tyrannic mistress dareTo one beauty love confine,Who, unbounded as the air,10All may court but none decline?Why should we the heart denyAs many objects as the eye?Wheresoe'er I turn or move,A new passion doth detain me:Those kind beauties that do love,Or those proud ones that disdain me;This frown melts, and that smile burns me;This to tears, that ashes turns me.Soft fresh Virgins, not full blown,20With their youthful sweetness take me;Sober Matrons, that have knownLong since what these prove, awake me;Here staid coldness I admire;There the lively active fire.She that doth by skill dispenseEvery favour she bestows,Or the harmless innocence,Which nor court nor city knows,Both alike my soul enflame,30That wild Beauty, and this tame.She that wisely can adornNature with the wealth of Art,Or whose rural sweets do scornBorrow'd helps to take a heart,The vain care of that's my pleasure,Poverty of this my treasure.Both the wanton and the coy,Me with equal pleasures move;She whom I by force enjoy,40Or who forceth me to love:This, because she'll not confess,That not hide, her happiness.She whose loosely flowing hair,Scatter'd like the beams o' th' morn,Playing with the sportive air,Hides the sweets it doth adorn,Captive in that net restrains me,In those golden fetters chains me.Nor doth she with power less bright50My divided heart invade,Whose soft tresses spread like nightO'er her shoulders a black shade;For the starlight of her eyesBrighter shines through those dark skies.Black, or fair, or tall, or low,I alike with all can sport;The bold sprightly Thais woo,Or the frozen Vestal court;Every Beauty takes my mind,60Tied to all, to none confin'd.

He whose active thoughts disdainTo be captive to one foe,And would break his single chain,Or else more would undergo;Let him learn the art of me,By new bondage to be free!

He whose active thoughts disdain

To be captive to one foe,

And would break his single chain,

Or else more would undergo;

Let him learn the art of me,

By new bondage to be free!

What tyrannic mistress dareTo one beauty love confine,Who, unbounded as the air,10All may court but none decline?Why should we the heart denyAs many objects as the eye?

What tyrannic mistress dare

To one beauty love confine,

Who, unbounded as the air,

10All may court but none decline?

Why should we the heart deny

As many objects as the eye?

Wheresoe'er I turn or move,A new passion doth detain me:Those kind beauties that do love,Or those proud ones that disdain me;This frown melts, and that smile burns me;This to tears, that ashes turns me.

Wheresoe'er I turn or move,

A new passion doth detain me:

Those kind beauties that do love,

Or those proud ones that disdain me;

This frown melts, and that smile burns me;

This to tears, that ashes turns me.

Soft fresh Virgins, not full blown,20With their youthful sweetness take me;Sober Matrons, that have knownLong since what these prove, awake me;Here staid coldness I admire;There the lively active fire.

Soft fresh Virgins, not full blown,

20With their youthful sweetness take me;

Sober Matrons, that have known

Long since what these prove, awake me;

Here staid coldness I admire;

There the lively active fire.

She that doth by skill dispenseEvery favour she bestows,Or the harmless innocence,Which nor court nor city knows,Both alike my soul enflame,30That wild Beauty, and this tame.

She that doth by skill dispense

Every favour she bestows,

Or the harmless innocence,

Which nor court nor city knows,

Both alike my soul enflame,

30That wild Beauty, and this tame.

She that wisely can adornNature with the wealth of Art,Or whose rural sweets do scornBorrow'd helps to take a heart,The vain care of that's my pleasure,Poverty of this my treasure.

She that wisely can adorn

Nature with the wealth of Art,

Or whose rural sweets do scorn

Borrow'd helps to take a heart,

The vain care of that's my pleasure,

Poverty of this my treasure.

Both the wanton and the coy,Me with equal pleasures move;She whom I by force enjoy,40Or who forceth me to love:This, because she'll not confess,That not hide, her happiness.

Both the wanton and the coy,

Me with equal pleasures move;

She whom I by force enjoy,

40Or who forceth me to love:

This, because she'll not confess,

That not hide, her happiness.

She whose loosely flowing hair,Scatter'd like the beams o' th' morn,Playing with the sportive air,Hides the sweets it doth adorn,Captive in that net restrains me,In those golden fetters chains me.

She whose loosely flowing hair,

Scatter'd like the beams o' th' morn,

Playing with the sportive air,

Hides the sweets it doth adorn,

Captive in that net restrains me,

In those golden fetters chains me.

Nor doth she with power less bright50My divided heart invade,Whose soft tresses spread like nightO'er her shoulders a black shade;For the starlight of her eyesBrighter shines through those dark skies.

Nor doth she with power less bright

50My divided heart invade,

Whose soft tresses spread like night

O'er her shoulders a black shade;

For the starlight of her eyes

Brighter shines through those dark skies.

Black, or fair, or tall, or low,I alike with all can sport;The bold sprightly Thais woo,Or the frozen Vestal court;Every Beauty takes my mind,60Tied to all, to none confin'd.

Black, or fair, or tall, or low,

I alike with all can sport;

The bold sprightly Thais woo,

Or the frozen Vestal court;

Every Beauty takes my mind,

60Tied to all, to none confin'd.

Love's Heretic.] This, for Stanley, longish piece has fewvv. ll.But1647reads in l. 34 'that' instead of 'to', and the singular 'pleasure' in l. 38. The piece is rather in the Suckling vein; but Stanley did not play the light-o'-love quite successfully.

You earthly souls that court a wanton flame,Whose pale weak influenceCan rise no higher than the humble name,And narrow laws of sense,Learn by our friendship to createAn immaterial fire,Whose brightness Angels may admire,But cannot emulate.Sickness may fright the roses from her cheek,10Or make the lilies fade;But all the subtile ways that Death doth seek,Cannot my love invade.Flames that are kindled by the eye,Through time and age expire;But ours, that boast a reach far higher,Can nor decay nor die.For when we must resign our vital breath,Our loves by Fate benighted,We by this friendship shall survive in death,20Even in divorce united.Weak Love, through fortune or distrust,In time forgets to burn,But this pursues us to the urn,And marries either's dust.

You earthly souls that court a wanton flame,

Whose pale weak influence

Can rise no higher than the humble name,

And narrow laws of sense,

Learn by our friendship to create

An immaterial fire,

Whose brightness Angels may admire,

But cannot emulate.

Sickness may fright the roses from her cheek,10Or make the lilies fade;But all the subtile ways that Death doth seek,Cannot my love invade.Flames that are kindled by the eye,Through time and age expire;But ours, that boast a reach far higher,Can nor decay nor die.

Sickness may fright the roses from her cheek,

10Or make the lilies fade;

But all the subtile ways that Death doth seek,

Cannot my love invade.

Flames that are kindled by the eye,

Through time and age expire;

But ours, that boast a reach far higher,

Can nor decay nor die.

For when we must resign our vital breath,Our loves by Fate benighted,We by this friendship shall survive in death,20Even in divorce united.Weak Love, through fortune or distrust,In time forgets to burn,But this pursues us to the urn,And marries either's dust.

For when we must resign our vital breath,

Our loves by Fate benighted,

We by this friendship shall survive in death,

20Even in divorce united.

Weak Love, through fortune or distrust,

In time forgets to burn,

But this pursues us to the urn,

And marries either's dust.

La Belle Confidente.] On this Sir Egerton: 'However far-fetched these ideas may be, there is uncommon elegance and ingenuity in the expression, and polish in the versification.' There is also something more than polish—aconcertedeffect which 'elegance and ingenuity' do not often reach. In l. 16, 'Cannot' appears in1647for 'Can nor'; 'And' for 'For' in l. 17; and ll. 18, 20 are changed over and run:Even in divorce delighted,. . . . . .Still in the grave united.

Even in divorce delighted,. . . . . .Still in the grave united.

Even in divorce delighted,

. . . . . .

Still in the grave united.

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