The Repulse.Not that by this disdainI am releas’d,And, freed from thy romantic[37:1]chain,Do I myself think blest;Not that thy flame shall burn5No more; for knowThat I shall into ashes turnBefore this fire doth so.Nor yet that unconfin’dI now may rove,10And 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 heart15Repuls’d, not banish’d, am.To lose what once was mineWould grieve me moreThan those inconstant sweets of thineHad pleas’d my soul before.20Now I’ve not lost that[37:2]blissI ne’er possessed;And, spite of Fate, am blest in this:That I was never blest.
The Repulse.
Not that by this disdainI am releas’d,And, freed from thy romantic[37:1]chain,Do I myself think blest;
Not that thy flame shall burn5No more; for knowThat I shall into ashes turnBefore this fire doth so.
Nor yet that unconfin’dI now may rove,10And 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 heart15Repuls’d, not banish’d, am.
To lose what once was mineWould grieve me moreThan those inconstant sweets of thineHad pleas’d my soul before.20
Now I’ve not lost that[37:2]blissI ne’er possessed;And, spite of Fate, am blest in this:That I was never blest.
Song.Celinda, by what potent artOr unresisted charm,Dost thou thine ear and frozen heartAgainst my passion arm?Or by what hidden influence5Of powers in one combin’d,Dost thou rob Love of either sense,Made deaf as well as blind?Sure thou as friends[38:1]united hastTwo distant deities,10And 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 ear15Free from all other chains.Then my complaint how canst thou hear,Or I this passion fly,Since thou imprison’d hast thine ear,And not confin’d thine eye?20
Song.
Celinda, by what potent artOr unresisted charm,Dost thou thine ear and frozen heartAgainst my passion arm?
Or by what hidden influence5Of powers in one combin’d,Dost thou rob Love of either sense,Made deaf as well as blind?
Sure thou as friends[38:1]united hastTwo distant deities,10And 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 ear15Free from all other chains.
Then my complaint how canst thou hear,Or I this passion fly,Since thou imprison’d hast thine ear,And not confin’d thine eye?20
The Tomb.When, cruel fair one, I am slainBy thy disdain,And as a trophy of thy scornTo some old tomb am borne,Thy fetters must their power bequeath5To those of Death;Nor can thy flame immortal burnLike monumental fires within an urn.Thus freed from thy proud empire, I shall proveThere is more liberty in Death than Love.10And when forsaken lovers comeTo see my tomb,Take heed thou mix not with the crowd,And, as a victor, proudTo view the spoils thy beauty made,15Press 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,His sacrifice, who died as thine, expire.20}[39:1]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 scorn25Laugh at my urn,Kindly deceiv’d by thy disdain,I might be smil’d into new life again.Then come not near: since both thy love and hateHave equal power to kill[39:2]or animate.30But if cold earth or marble mustConceal my dust,Whilst, hid in some dark ruins, IDumb and forgotten lie,The pride of all thy victory35Will sleep with me;And they who should attest thy gloryWill or forget, or not believe this story.Then, to increase thy triumph, let me rest,(Since by thine eye slain,) buried in thy breast!40
The Tomb.
When, cruel fair one, I am slainBy thy disdain,And as a trophy of thy scornTo some old tomb am borne,Thy fetters must their power bequeath5To those of Death;Nor can thy flame immortal burnLike monumental fires within an urn.Thus freed from thy proud empire, I shall proveThere is more liberty in Death than Love.10
And when forsaken lovers comeTo see my tomb,Take heed thou mix not with the crowd,And, as a victor, proudTo view the spoils thy beauty made,15Press near my shade!Lest thy too cruel breath, or name,Should fan my ashes back into a flame.
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 scorn25Laugh at my urn,Kindly deceiv’d by thy disdain,I might be smil’d into new life again.Then come not near: since both thy love and hateHave equal power to kill[39:2]or animate.30
But if cold earth or marble mustConceal my dust,Whilst, hid in some dark ruins, IDumb and forgotten lie,The pride of all thy victory35Will sleep with me;And they who should attest thy gloryWill or forget, or not believe this story.Then, to increase thy triumph, let me rest,(Since by thine eye slain,) buried in thy breast!40
To Celia.PLEADING WANT OF MERIT.[40:1]Dear, urge no more the killing causeOf our divorce:Love is not fetter’d by such laws,Nor bows to any force.Though thou deniest I should be thine,5Yet say not thou deserv’st not to be mine!Oh, rather frown away my breathWith thy disdain,Or flatter me with smiles to death;By joy or sorrow slain,10’Tis less crime to be kill’d by thee,Than I thus cause of mine[40:2]own death should be.Thyself of beauty to divest,And me of love,Or from the worth of thine own breast15Thus to detract, would proveIn us a blindness, and in theeAt best a sacrilegious modesty.But, Celia,[40:3]if thou wilt despiseWhat all admire,20Nor rate thyself at the just priceOf beauty or desire,Yet meet my flames! and thou shalt seeThat equal love knows no disparity.
To Celia.
PLEADING WANT OF MERIT.[40:1]
Dear, urge no more the killing causeOf our divorce:Love is not fetter’d by such laws,Nor bows to any force.Though thou deniest I should be thine,5Yet say not thou deserv’st not to be mine!
Oh, rather frown away my breathWith thy disdain,Or flatter me with smiles to death;By joy or sorrow slain,10’Tis less crime to be kill’d by thee,Than I thus cause of mine[40:2]own death should be.
Thyself of beauty to divest,And me of love,Or from the worth of thine own breast15Thus to detract, would proveIn us a blindness, and in theeAt best a sacrilegious modesty.
But, Celia,[40:3]if thou wilt despiseWhat all admire,20Nor rate thyself at the just priceOf beauty or desire,Yet meet my flames! and thou shalt seeThat equal love knows no disparity.
The Kiss.[41:1]When on thy lip my soul I breathe,Which there meets thine,Freed from their fetters by this death,Our subtle forms[41:2]combine:Thus without bonds of sense they move,5And like two cherubim converse by[41:3]love.Spirits to chains of earth confin’dDiscourse by sense;But ours, that are by flames refin’d,With those weak ties dispense.10Let such in words their minds display:We in a kiss our mutual thoughts convey.[41:4]But since my soul from me doth fly,To thee retir’d,Thou canst not both retain; for I15Must be with one inspir’d;Then, Dearest,[41:5]either justly mineRestore, or in exchange let me have thine.Yet if thou dost return mine own,O tak’t again!20For ’tis this pleasing death aloneGives ease unto my pain.Kill me once more, or I shall findThy pity than thy cruelty less kind.
The Kiss.[41:1]
When on thy lip my soul I breathe,Which there meets thine,Freed from their fetters by this death,Our subtle forms[41:2]combine:Thus without bonds of sense they move,5And like two cherubim converse by[41:3]love.
Spirits to chains of earth confin’dDiscourse by sense;But ours, that are by flames refin’d,With those weak ties dispense.10Let such in words their minds display:We in a kiss our mutual thoughts convey.[41:4]
But since my soul from me doth fly,To thee retir’d,Thou canst not both retain; for I15Must be with one inspir’d;Then, Dearest,[41:5]either justly mineRestore, or in exchange let me have thine.
Yet if thou dost return mine own,O tak’t again!20For ’tis this pleasing death aloneGives ease unto my pain.Kill me once more, or I shall findThy pity than thy cruelty less kind.
The Snowball.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 arm5’Gainst thy voice’s powerful charm;And the lightning of thine eyeDurst, by closing mine, defy;Cannot this cold snow withstandFrom the winter[42:1]of thy hand.10Thy deceit hath thus done moreThan thy open force before:For who could suspect or fearTreason in a face so clear,Or the hidden fires descry15Wrapt in this cold outside lie?Flames might thus, involv’d in ice,The deceiv’d world sacrifice;Nature, ignorant of thisStrange antiperistasis,20Would her falling frame admire,That by snow were set on fire!
The Snowball.
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 arm5’Gainst thy voice’s powerful charm;And the lightning of thine eyeDurst, by closing mine, defy;Cannot this cold snow withstandFrom the winter[42:1]of thy hand.10Thy deceit hath thus done moreThan thy open force before:For who could suspect or fearTreason in a face so clear,Or the hidden fires descry15Wrapt in this cold outside lie?Flames might thus, involv’d in ice,The deceiv’d world sacrifice;Nature, ignorant of thisStrange antiperistasis,20Would her falling frame admire,That by snow were set on fire!
Speaking and Kissing.The air which thy smooth voice doth breakInto my soul like lightning flies;My life retires whilst thou dost speak,And thy soft breath its room supplies.Lost in this pleasing ecstasy,5I 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:10No harmony can life inspire,But that which from these accents flows.
Speaking and Kissing.
The air which thy smooth voice doth breakInto my soul like lightning flies;My life retires whilst thou dost speak,And thy soft breath its room supplies.
Lost in this pleasing ecstasy,5I 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:10No harmony can life inspire,But that which from these accents flows.
The Deposition.[43:1]Though when I lov’d thee thou wert[43:2]fair,Thou art no longer so:Those glories do[43:3]the pride they wearUnto opinion owe.Beauties, like stars, in borrow’d lustre shine;5And ’twas my love that gave thee thine.The flames that dwelt within thine eyeDo now with mine expire;Thy brightest graces[43:4]fade and dieAt once, with my desire.10Love’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 restore15The wealth my[43:5]love bestow’d;And thy despis’d disdain too late shall findThat none are fair but who are kind.
The Deposition.[43:1]
Though when I lov’d thee thou wert[43:2]fair,Thou art no longer so:Those glories do[43:3]the pride they wearUnto opinion owe.Beauties, like stars, in borrow’d lustre shine;5And ’twas my love that gave thee thine.
The flames that dwelt within thine eyeDo now with mine expire;Thy brightest graces[43:4]fade and dieAt once, with my desire.10Love’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 restore15The wealth my[43:5]love bestow’d;And thy despis’d disdain too late shall findThat none are fair but who are kind.
Love’s Heretic.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,5By new bondage to be free!What tyrannic mistress dareTo one beauty Love confine?Who, unbounded as the air,All may court, but none decline.10Why 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,15Or 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-blownWith their youthful sweetness take me;20Sober 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 dispense25Every favour she bestows,Or the harmless innocenceWhich nor court nor city knows;—Both alike my soul inflame,That wild beauty, and this tame.30She that wisely can adornNature with the wealth of Art,Or whose rural sweets do scornBorrow’d helps to[44:1]take a heart;—The vain care of that’s my pleasure;35Poverty of this, my treasure.Both the wanton and the coyMe with equal pleasure[44:2]move;She whom I by force enjoy,Or who forceth me to love:40This, 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,45Hides the sweets it doth adorn,Captive in that net restrains me,In those golden fetters chains me;Nor doth she with power less brightMy divided heart invade,50Whose soft tresses spread, like night,O’er her shoulders a black shade;For the starlight of her eyesBrighter shines through those dark skies.Black, or fair, or tall, or low,55I alike with all can sport,The bold sprightly Thaïs woo,Or the frozen vestal court:Every beauty takes my mind,Tied to all, to none confin’d.60
Love’s Heretic.
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,5By new bondage to be free!
What tyrannic mistress dareTo one beauty Love confine?Who, unbounded as the air,All may court, but none decline.10Why 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,15Or 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-blownWith their youthful sweetness take me;20Sober 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 dispense25Every favour she bestows,Or the harmless innocenceWhich nor court nor city knows;—Both alike my soul inflame,That wild beauty, and this tame.30
She that wisely can adornNature with the wealth of Art,Or whose rural sweets do scornBorrow’d helps to[44:1]take a heart;—The vain care of that’s my pleasure;35Poverty of this, my treasure.
Both the wanton and the coyMe with equal pleasure[44:2]move;She whom I by force enjoy,Or who forceth me to love:40This, 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,45Hides the sweets it doth adorn,Captive in that net restrains me,In those golden fetters chains me;
Nor doth she with power less brightMy divided heart invade,50Whose soft tresses spread, like night,O’er her shoulders a black shade;For the starlight of her eyesBrighter shines through those dark skies.
Black, or fair, or tall, or low,55I alike with all can sport,The bold sprightly Thaïs woo,Or the frozen vestal court:Every beauty takes my mind,Tied to all, to none confin’d.60
La Belle Confidante.You earthly souls that court a wanton flame,Whose pale weak influenceCan rise no higher than the humble nameAnd narrow laws of sense!Learn by our friendship to create5An immaterial fire,Whose brightness angels may admireBut cannot emulate.Sickness may fright the roses from her cheek,Or make the lilies fade,10But all the subtle ways that Death doth seekCannot my love invade.Flames that are kindled by the eyeThrough time and age expire,But ours, that boast a reach far higher,15Cannot decay or die.[45:1]For[45:2]when we must resign our vital breath,Our loves by Fate benighted,[45:3]We by this friendship shall survive in death,Even in divorce united:20Weak love, through fortune or distrust,In time forgets to burn,But this pursues us to the urn,And marries either’s dust.
La Belle Confidante.
You earthly souls that court a wanton flame,Whose pale weak influenceCan rise no higher than the humble nameAnd narrow laws of sense!Learn by our friendship to create5An immaterial fire,Whose brightness angels may admireBut cannot emulate.
Sickness may fright the roses from her cheek,Or make the lilies fade,10But all the subtle ways that Death doth seekCannot my love invade.Flames that are kindled by the eyeThrough time and age expire,But ours, that boast a reach far higher,15Cannot decay or die.[45:1]
For[45:2]when we must resign our vital breath,Our loves by Fate benighted,[45:3]We by this friendship shall survive in death,Even in divorce united:20Weak love, through fortune or distrust,In time forgets to burn,But this pursues us to the urn,And marries either’s dust.
La Belle Ennemie.I yield, dear enemy, nor knowHow to resist so fair a foe.Who would not thy soft yoke sustain,And bow beneath thy easy chain,That with a bondage blest might be5Which far transcends all liberty?But since I freely have resign’d,At first assault, my willing mind,Insult not o’er my captiv’d heartWith too much tyranny and art,10Lest by thy scorn thou lose the prizeGain’d by the power of thy bright eyes;And thou this conquest thus shalt prove,Though got by beauty, kept by love.
La Belle Ennemie.
I yield, dear enemy, nor knowHow to resist so fair a foe.Who would not thy soft yoke sustain,And bow beneath thy easy chain,That with a bondage blest might be5Which far transcends all liberty?But since I freely have resign’d,At first assault, my willing mind,Insult not o’er my captiv’d heartWith too much tyranny and art,10Lest by thy scorn thou lose the prizeGain’d by the power of thy bright eyes;And thou this conquest thus shalt prove,Though got by beauty, kept by love.
Love Deposed.You that unto your mistress’ eyesYour hearts do sacrifice,And offer sighs or tears at Love’s rich shrine,Renounce with meTh’ idolatry,5Nor this infernal power esteem divine!The brand, the quiver, and the bow,Which we did first bestow,And he as tribute wears from every lover,I back again10From him have ta’en,And the impostor now unveil’d discover.I can the feeble Child disarm,Untie his mystic charm,Divest him of his wings, and break his arrow;15We will obeyNo more his sway,Nor live confin’d to laws or bounds so narrowAnd you, bright Beauties, that inspireThe Boy’s pale torch with fire,20We safely now your subtle power despise,And unscorch’d may,Like atoms, playAnd wanton in the sunshine of your eyes.Nor think hereafter by new arts25You can bewitch our hearts,Or raise this devil by your pleasing charm:We will no moreHis power implore,Unless, like Indians, that he do no harm.30
Love Deposed.
You that unto your mistress’ eyesYour hearts do sacrifice,And offer sighs or tears at Love’s rich shrine,Renounce with meTh’ idolatry,5Nor this infernal power esteem divine!
The brand, the quiver, and the bow,Which we did first bestow,And he as tribute wears from every lover,I back again10From him have ta’en,And the impostor now unveil’d discover.
I can the feeble Child disarm,Untie his mystic charm,Divest him of his wings, and break his arrow;15We will obeyNo more his sway,Nor live confin’d to laws or bounds so narrow
And you, bright Beauties, that inspireThe Boy’s pale torch with fire,20We safely now your subtle power despise,And unscorch’d may,Like atoms, playAnd wanton in the sunshine of your eyes.
Nor think hereafter by new arts25You can bewitch our hearts,Or raise this devil by your pleasing charm:We will no moreHis power implore,Unless, like Indians, that he do no harm.30
The Divorce.Dear, back my wounded heart restore,And turn away thy powerful eyes;Flatter my willing soul no more:Love must not[46:1]hope what Fate denies.Take, take away thy smiles and kisses!5Thy love wounds deeper than disdain;For he that sees the heaven he misses,Sustains two hells of loss and pain.Shouldst thou some other’s suit prefer,I might return thy scorn to thee,10And learn apostasy of herWho taught me, first, idolatry.[46:2]Or in thy unrelenting breastShould I[46:3]disdain or coyness move,He by thy hate might be releas’d,15Who now is prisoner to thy love.}[46:4]Since, then, unkind Fate will divorceThose whom affection long united,Be thou as cruel as this force,And I in death shall be delighted.20Thus whilst so many suppliants woo,And beg they may thy pity prove,}[46:5]I only for thy scorn do sue:’Tis charity here not to love.
The Divorce.
Dear, back my wounded heart restore,And turn away thy powerful eyes;Flatter my willing soul no more:Love must not[46:1]hope what Fate denies.
Take, take away thy smiles and kisses!5Thy love wounds deeper than disdain;For he that sees the heaven he misses,Sustains two hells of loss and pain.
Shouldst thou some other’s suit prefer,I might return thy scorn to thee,10And learn apostasy of herWho taught me, first, idolatry.[46:2]
Or in thy unrelenting breastShould I[46:3]disdain or coyness move,
Since, then, unkind Fate will divorceThose whom affection long united,Be thou as cruel as this force,And I in death shall be delighted.20
I only for thy scorn do sue:’Tis charity here not to love.
The Bracelet.Rebellious fools that scorn to bowBeneath Love’s easy sway,Whose stubborn wills no laws allow,Disdaining to obey,Mark but this wreath of hair, and you shall see5None that might wear such fetters would be free.I once could boast a soul like you,As unconfin’d as air;But mine, which force could not subdue,Was caught within this snare;10And by myself betray’d, I for this goldHave to mine enemy my freedom sold.[47:1]No longer now, wise Art, inquire,(With this vain search delighted,)How souls that human[47:2]breasts inspire15Are to their frames united:Material chains such spirits well may bind,When this soft braid can tie both arm and mind.Now, Beauties, I defy your charm,Rul’d by more powerful art:20This mystic wreath which crowns my armDefends my vanquish’d heart;[47:3]And I, subdu’d by one more fair, shall beSecur’d from conquest by captivity.
The Bracelet.
Rebellious fools that scorn to bowBeneath Love’s easy sway,Whose stubborn wills no laws allow,Disdaining to obey,Mark but this wreath of hair, and you shall see5None that might wear such fetters would be free.
I once could boast a soul like you,As unconfin’d as air;But mine, which force could not subdue,Was caught within this snare;10And by myself betray’d, I for this goldHave to mine enemy my freedom sold.[47:1]
No longer now, wise Art, inquire,(With this vain search delighted,)How souls that human[47:2]breasts inspire15Are to their frames united:Material chains such spirits well may bind,When this soft braid can tie both arm and mind.
Now, Beauties, I defy your charm,Rul’d by more powerful art:20This mystic wreath which crowns my armDefends my vanquish’d heart;[47:3]And I, subdu’d by one more fair, shall beSecur’d from conquest by captivity.
The Farewell.Since Fate commands me hence, and IMust leave my soul with thee, and die,Dear, spare one sigh, or else let fallA tear to crown my funeral,That I may tell my grieved heart5Thou art unwilling we should part;And martyrs that embrace the fireShall with less joy than I expire.With this last kiss I will bequeathMy soul, transfus’d into thy breath,10Whose active heat shall gently slideInto thy breast, and there reside,And may, (in spite of Fate thus blest,)Be, in this death, of heaven possess’d.[48:1]Then prove but kind; and thou shalt see15Love hath more power than Destiny.
The Farewell.
Since Fate commands me hence, and IMust leave my soul with thee, and die,Dear, spare one sigh, or else let fallA tear to crown my funeral,That I may tell my grieved heart5Thou art unwilling we should part;And martyrs that embrace the fireShall with less joy than I expire.
With this last kiss I will bequeathMy soul, transfus’d into thy breath,10Whose active heat shall gently slideInto thy breast, and there reside,And may, (in spite of Fate thus blest,)Be, in this death, of heaven possess’d.[48:1]Then prove but kind; and thou shalt see15Love hath more power than Destiny.
The Exchange: Dialogue.[49:1]Phil[ocharis].That kiss which last thou gav’st me, stoleMy fainting life away;Yet, though to thy breast fled, my soulStill in mine own doth stay.Weak Nature no such power doth know:5Love only can these wonders show.}[49:2]Char[iessa].And with the same warm breath did mineInto thy bosom slide,There dwell, contracted unto thine,Yet still with me reside.10Weak Nature no such power doth know:Love only can these wonders show.Chor[us].Both souls thus in desire are one,And each is two in skill,Doubled in intellect alone,15United in the will.Weak Nature no such power doth know:Love only can these wonders show.
The Exchange: Dialogue.[49:1]
Phil[ocharis].
That kiss which last thou gav’st me, stoleMy fainting life away;Yet, though to thy breast fled, my soulStill in mine own doth stay.
Char[iessa].
And with the same warm breath did mineInto thy bosom slide,There dwell, contracted unto thine,Yet still with me reside.10Weak Nature no such power doth know:Love only can these wonders show.
Chor[us].
Both souls thus in desire are one,And each is two in skill,Doubled in intellect alone,15United in the will.Weak Nature no such power doth know:Love only can these wonders show.
The Exequies.Draw near,You lovers, that complainOf Fortune or Disdain,And to my ashes lend a tear.Melt the hard marble with your groans,5And soften the relentless stones,Whose cold embraces the sad subject hideOf all Love’s cruelties, and Beauty’s pride.}[50:1]No verse,No epicedium, bring;10Nor peaceful requiem sing,To charm the terrors of my hearse;No profane numbers must flow nearThe sacred silence that dwells here.Vast griefs are dumb: softly, oh softly mourn!15Lest you disturb the peace attends my urn.Yet strewUpon my dismal graveSuch offerings as you have:Forsaken cypress, and sad yew;20For kinder flowers can take no birthOr growth from such unhappy earth.Weep only o’er my dust, and say: “Here liesTo Love and Fate an equal sacrifice.”
The Exequies.
Draw near,You lovers, that complainOf Fortune or Disdain,And to my ashes lend a tear.Melt the hard marble with your groans,5And soften the relentless stones,
No verse,No epicedium, bring;10Nor peaceful requiem sing,To charm the terrors of my hearse;No profane numbers must flow nearThe sacred silence that dwells here.Vast griefs are dumb: softly, oh softly mourn!15Lest you disturb the peace attends my urn.
Yet strewUpon my dismal graveSuch offerings as you have:Forsaken cypress, and sad yew;20For kinder flowers can take no birthOr growth from such unhappy earth.Weep only o’er my dust, and say: “Here liesTo Love and Fate an equal sacrifice.”
The Silkworm.The[51:1]silkworm, to long sleep retir’d,The early year hath re-inspir’d,Who now to pay to thee preparesThe tribute of her pleasing cares;And hastens with industrious toil5To make her ornament thy spoil.[51:2]See with what pains[51:3]she spins for theeThe thread of her own destiny,Then, (growing proud in death, to knowThat all her curious labours thou[51:4]10Wilt, as in triumph, deign to wear!)Retires to her soft sepulchre.Such, Dearest, is that hapless stateTo which I am design’d by Fate,Who, by thee willingly o’ercome,15Work mine own fetters and my tomb.
The Silkworm.
The[51:1]silkworm, to long sleep retir’d,The early year hath re-inspir’d,Who now to pay to thee preparesThe tribute of her pleasing cares;And hastens with industrious toil5To make her ornament thy spoil.[51:2]See with what pains[51:3]she spins for theeThe thread of her own destiny,Then, (growing proud in death, to knowThat all her curious labours thou[51:4]10Wilt, as in triumph, deign to wear!)Retires to her soft sepulchre.
Such, Dearest, is that hapless stateTo which I am design’d by Fate,Who, by thee willingly o’ercome,15Work mine own fetters and my tomb.
Ambition.I must no longer now admireThe coldness which possess’dThy snowy breast,That can by other flames be set on fire;Poor Love, to harsh Disdain betray’d,5Is by Ambition thus outweigh’d.Hadst thou but known the vast extentOf constant faith, how far’Bove all that areBorn slaves to wealth, or honours’ vain ascent;[52:1]10No richer treasure couldst thou findThan hearts with mutual chains combin’d.But Love is too despis’d a name,And must not hope to riseAbove these ties.15Honours[52:2]and wealth outshine his paler flame!These unite souls, whilst true desireUnpitied dies in its own fire.Yet, cruel fair one, I did aimWith no less justice too,20Than those that sueFor other hopes, and thy proud fortunes claim.Wealth honours, honours wealth, approve;But Beauty’s only meant for Love.
Ambition.
I must no longer now admireThe coldness which possess’dThy snowy breast,That can by other flames be set on fire;Poor Love, to harsh Disdain betray’d,5Is by Ambition thus outweigh’d.
Hadst thou but known the vast extentOf constant faith, how far’Bove all that areBorn slaves to wealth, or honours’ vain ascent;[52:1]10No richer treasure couldst thou findThan hearts with mutual chains combin’d.
But Love is too despis’d a name,And must not hope to riseAbove these ties.15Honours[52:2]and wealth outshine his paler flame!These unite souls, whilst true desireUnpitied dies in its own fire.
Yet, cruel fair one, I did aimWith no less justice too,20Than those that sueFor other hopes, and thy proud fortunes claim.Wealth honours, honours wealth, approve;But Beauty’s only meant for Love.
Song.When, dearest Beauty, thou shalt payThy faith and my vain hope awayTo some dull soul that cannot knowThe worth of that thou dost bestow;Lest[53:1]with my sighs and tears I might5Disturb thy unconfin’d delight,To some dark shade I will retire,And there, forgot by all, expire.Thus, whilst the difference thou shalt proveBetwixt a feign’d and real love,10Whilst he, more happy, but less true,Shall reap those joys I did pursue,And with those pleasures crowned beBy Fate, which Love design’d for me,Then thou perhaps thyself wilt find15Cruel too long, or too soon kind.
Song.
When, dearest Beauty, thou shalt payThy faith and my vain hope awayTo some dull soul that cannot knowThe worth of that thou dost bestow;Lest[53:1]with my sighs and tears I might5Disturb thy unconfin’d delight,To some dark shade I will retire,And there, forgot by all, expire.
Thus, whilst the difference thou shalt proveBetwixt a feign’d and real love,10Whilst he, more happy, but less true,Shall reap those joys I did pursue,And with those pleasures crowned beBy Fate, which Love design’d for me,Then thou perhaps thyself wilt find15Cruel too long, or too soon kind.
Song.I will not trust thy tempting graces,Or thy deceitful charms,Nor prisoner be to thy embraces,Or fetter’d in thy arms;No, Celia, no: not all thy art5Can wound or captivate my heart.I will not gaze upon thy eyes,Or wanton with thy hair,Lest those should burn me by surprise,Or these my soul ensnare;10Nor with those smiling dangers play,Or fool my liberty away.Since, then, my wary heart is freeAnd unconfin’d as thine,If thou wouldst mine should captiv’d[54:1]be,15Thou must thine own resign;And gratitude may thus move moreThan love or beauty could before.
Song.
I will not trust thy tempting graces,Or thy deceitful charms,Nor prisoner be to thy embraces,Or fetter’d in thy arms;No, Celia, no: not all thy art5Can wound or captivate my heart.
I will not gaze upon thy eyes,Or wanton with thy hair,Lest those should burn me by surprise,Or these my soul ensnare;10Nor with those smiling dangers play,Or fool my liberty away.
Since, then, my wary heart is freeAnd unconfin’d as thine,If thou wouldst mine should captiv’d[54:1]be,15Thou must thine own resign;And gratitude may thus move moreThan love or beauty could before.
Song.No, I will sooner trust the wind,When, falsely kind,It courts the pregnant sails into a storm,And when the smiling waves persuade,Be willingly betray’d,5Than thy deceitful vows or form.Go, and beguile some easy heartWith thy vain art;Thy smiles and kisses on those fools bestowWho only see the calms that sleep10On this smooth flattering deep,But not the hidden dangers know.They that, like me, thy falsehood prove,Will scorn thy love,Some may, deceiv’d at first, adore thy shrine;15But he that as thy sacrificeDoth willingly fall twice,Dies his own martyr, and not thine.
Song.
No, I will sooner trust the wind,When, falsely kind,It courts the pregnant sails into a storm,And when the smiling waves persuade,Be willingly betray’d,5Than thy deceitful vows or form.
Go, and beguile some easy heartWith thy vain art;Thy smiles and kisses on those fools bestowWho only see the calms that sleep10On this smooth flattering deep,But not the hidden dangers know.
They that, like me, thy falsehood prove,Will scorn thy love,Some may, deceiv’d at first, adore thy shrine;15But he that as thy sacrificeDoth willingly fall twice,Dies his own martyr, and not thine.