This said, he strove t' unbillow all with slumbers,But th' more he strove to rest less rest he takes.His watchful thoughts each tattling minute numbers,Bellama's wakening beauty him awakes.And having purchased sleep, though they were dim,Bellama's beauty darted rays at him.1760Then, starting up her substance fair to catch,He lost the shadow, and did rave again:'Can grovelling brambles lofty cedars scratch?Or waddling ducks o'ertop the tow'ring crane?Yet virtues, imped with person, reach a sky,And to an higher pitch than Fortune fly.There is a tree (as our historians write),Alpina hight, of fair and glorious glee,With branches fine and glorious blossoms dightBut never tasted by the witty bee,1770Fearing death lodgeth there; and this he fears'Cause to the eye so glorious it appears.Not much unlike to these our women are,Whom Nature has in dainty colours dressed;And of our women likest are the fair,For with much beauty virtues seldom rest.Would Jove all women I had judged to beAlpina-like, or, if not all, yet she!The queen of beauty strumpet was to Mars,Officious bawd unto lascivious Jove,1780A patroness of those that ride in cars,And in her court nor virtue reigns nor love:But lust and vanity, with wily trains,That he repentance buys which beauty gains.Sh'as many trulls, like Menelaus' wife,And she such light-skirt things for chaste ones sells;With whom dissembling and deceits are rife,Smiles, tears, sighs, looks, with such enchanting spells.If they but bend their brows and shoot out frowns,They crack a sceptre and distemple crowns.1790Yet stay: but by the sour we know not sweet,White's silver hue adjoined to black shines best,How should we know our hands but by our feet?Health's only prized when sickness doth arrest.This principle, perhaps, Bellama holds:Summer is known by winter's chilling colds.Perchance Bellama did not breath that woe,Which by Bardino was conveyed to me,Nor dwelt upon her lips that scornful "No":'Twas only forgèd by her dame and he.1800But—why should suspicion steal into my breast?Suspect a friend, deceit with friendship rest?No: Phaeton, base son to Day's bright blaze,Daring his chariot, felt Jove's thunder fire.Astronomers, whilst on the stars they gaze,Oft-times do sink into the dirty mire.Only the eagle, without purblind damps,Can fix his eyes upon the prince of lamps.The son of Daedalus soared up so high,That Phoebus plucked his waxen jointed wings,1810It was her pride checked my ambitious eye.True love, to hatred changed by slights, has stings.I'll write invectives: no! I'll only tryWhat virtue dwells in slighting poesie.'
This said, he strove t' unbillow all with slumbers,But th' more he strove to rest less rest he takes.His watchful thoughts each tattling minute numbers,Bellama's wakening beauty him awakes.And having purchased sleep, though they were dim,Bellama's beauty darted rays at him.
This said, he strove t' unbillow all with slumbers,
But th' more he strove to rest less rest he takes.
His watchful thoughts each tattling minute numbers,
Bellama's wakening beauty him awakes.
And having purchased sleep, though they were dim,
Bellama's beauty darted rays at him.
1760Then, starting up her substance fair to catch,He lost the shadow, and did rave again:'Can grovelling brambles lofty cedars scratch?Or waddling ducks o'ertop the tow'ring crane?Yet virtues, imped with person, reach a sky,And to an higher pitch than Fortune fly.
1760Then, starting up her substance fair to catch,
He lost the shadow, and did rave again:
'Can grovelling brambles lofty cedars scratch?
Or waddling ducks o'ertop the tow'ring crane?
Yet virtues, imped with person, reach a sky,
And to an higher pitch than Fortune fly.
There is a tree (as our historians write),Alpina hight, of fair and glorious glee,With branches fine and glorious blossoms dightBut never tasted by the witty bee,1770Fearing death lodgeth there; and this he fears'Cause to the eye so glorious it appears.
There is a tree (as our historians write),
Alpina hight, of fair and glorious glee,
With branches fine and glorious blossoms dight
But never tasted by the witty bee,
1770Fearing death lodgeth there; and this he fears
'Cause to the eye so glorious it appears.
Not much unlike to these our women are,Whom Nature has in dainty colours dressed;And of our women likest are the fair,For with much beauty virtues seldom rest.Would Jove all women I had judged to beAlpina-like, or, if not all, yet she!
Not much unlike to these our women are,
Whom Nature has in dainty colours dressed;
And of our women likest are the fair,
For with much beauty virtues seldom rest.
Would Jove all women I had judged to be
Alpina-like, or, if not all, yet she!
The queen of beauty strumpet was to Mars,Officious bawd unto lascivious Jove,1780A patroness of those that ride in cars,And in her court nor virtue reigns nor love:But lust and vanity, with wily trains,That he repentance buys which beauty gains.
The queen of beauty strumpet was to Mars,
Officious bawd unto lascivious Jove,
1780A patroness of those that ride in cars,
And in her court nor virtue reigns nor love:
But lust and vanity, with wily trains,
That he repentance buys which beauty gains.
Sh'as many trulls, like Menelaus' wife,And she such light-skirt things for chaste ones sells;With whom dissembling and deceits are rife,Smiles, tears, sighs, looks, with such enchanting spells.If they but bend their brows and shoot out frowns,They crack a sceptre and distemple crowns.
Sh'as many trulls, like Menelaus' wife,
And she such light-skirt things for chaste ones sells;
With whom dissembling and deceits are rife,
Smiles, tears, sighs, looks, with such enchanting spells.
If they but bend their brows and shoot out frowns,
They crack a sceptre and distemple crowns.
1790Yet stay: but by the sour we know not sweet,White's silver hue adjoined to black shines best,How should we know our hands but by our feet?Health's only prized when sickness doth arrest.This principle, perhaps, Bellama holds:Summer is known by winter's chilling colds.
1790Yet stay: but by the sour we know not sweet,
White's silver hue adjoined to black shines best,
How should we know our hands but by our feet?
Health's only prized when sickness doth arrest.
This principle, perhaps, Bellama holds:
Summer is known by winter's chilling colds.
Perchance Bellama did not breath that woe,Which by Bardino was conveyed to me,Nor dwelt upon her lips that scornful "No":'Twas only forgèd by her dame and he.1800But—why should suspicion steal into my breast?Suspect a friend, deceit with friendship rest?
Perchance Bellama did not breath that woe,
Which by Bardino was conveyed to me,
Nor dwelt upon her lips that scornful "No":
'Twas only forgèd by her dame and he.
1800But—why should suspicion steal into my breast?
Suspect a friend, deceit with friendship rest?
No: Phaeton, base son to Day's bright blaze,Daring his chariot, felt Jove's thunder fire.Astronomers, whilst on the stars they gaze,Oft-times do sink into the dirty mire.Only the eagle, without purblind damps,Can fix his eyes upon the prince of lamps.
No: Phaeton, base son to Day's bright blaze,
Daring his chariot, felt Jove's thunder fire.
Astronomers, whilst on the stars they gaze,
Oft-times do sink into the dirty mire.
Only the eagle, without purblind damps,
Can fix his eyes upon the prince of lamps.
The son of Daedalus soared up so high,That Phoebus plucked his waxen jointed wings,1810It was her pride checked my ambitious eye.True love, to hatred changed by slights, has stings.I'll write invectives: no! I'll only tryWhat virtue dwells in slighting poesie.'
The son of Daedalus soared up so high,
That Phoebus plucked his waxen jointed wings,
1810It was her pride checked my ambitious eye.
True love, to hatred changed by slights, has stings.
I'll write invectives: no! I'll only try
What virtue dwells in slighting poesie.'