Lucasta [19]
yet e're seen, Thinking that I too of the rout had been, Mine eyes invaded with a female spight (She knew what pain 't would be to lose that sight). O no, mistake not, I reply'd: for I In your defence, or in his cause, would dy. But he, secure of glory and of time, Above their envy or mine aid doth clime. Him valianst men and fairest nymphs approve, His booke in them finds judgement, with you, love. Andr. Marvell
TO COLONEL RICHARD LOVELACE, ON THE PUBLISHING OF HIS INGENIOUS POEMS.
If the desire of glory speak a mind More nobly operative and more refin'd, What vast soule moves thee, or what hero's spirit (Kept in'ts traduction pure) dost thou inherit, That, not contented with one single fame, Dost to a double glory spread thy name, And on thy happy temples safely set Both th' Delphick wreath and civic coronet? Was't not enough for us to know how far Thou couldst in season suffer, act and dare But we must also witnesse, with what height And what Ionick sweetnesse thou canst write, And melt those eager passions, that are Stubborn enough t' enrage the god of war Into a noble love, which may expire<9.1> In an illustrious pyramid of fire; Which, having gained his due station, may Fix there, and everlasting flames display. This is the braver path: time soone can smother The dear-bought spoils and tropheis of the other. How many fiery heroes have there been, Whose triumphs were as soone forgot as seen? Because they wanted some diviner one To rescue from night, and make known. Such art thou to thy selfe. While others dream Strong flatt'ries on a fain'd or borrow'd theam, Thou shalt remaine in thine owne lustre bright, And adde unto 't LUCASTA'S chaster light. For none so fit to sing great things as he, That can act o're all lights of poetry. Thus had Achilles his owne gests design'd, He had his genius Homer far outshin'd. Jo. Hall.<<9.2>>
<9.1> Original has ASPIRE.
<9.2> The precocious author of HORAE VACIVAE, 1646, and of a volume of poems which was printed in the same year. In the LUCASTA are some complimentary lines by Lovelace on Hall's translation of the commentary of Hierocles on the Golden Verses of Pythagoras, 1657.
TO THE HONORABLE, VALIANT, AND INGENIOUS COLONEL RICHARD LOVELACE, ON HIS EXQUISITE POEMS.
Poets and painters have some near relation, Compar'd with fancy and imagination; The one paints shadowed persons (in pure kind), The other paints the pictures of the mind In purer verse. And as rare Zeuxes fame Shin'd, till Apelles art eclips'd the same By a more exquisite and curious line In Zeuxeses (with pensill far more fine), So have our modern poets late done well, Till thine appear'd (which scarce have paralel). They like to Zeuxes grapes beguile the sense, But thine do ravish the intelligence, Like the rare banquet of Apelles, drawn, And covered over with most curious lawn. Thus if thy careles draughts are cal'd the best, What would thy lines have beene, had'st thou profest That faculty (infus'd) of poetry, Which adds such honour unto thy chivalry? Doubtles thy verse had all as far transcended As Sydneyes Prose, who Poets once defended. For when I read thy much renowned pen, My fancy there finds out another Ben In thy brave language, judgement, wit, and art, Of every piece of thine, in every part: Where thy seraphique Sydneyan fire is raised high In valour, vertue, love, and loyalty. Virgil was styl'd the loftiest of all, Ovid the smoothest and most naturall; Martiall concise and witty, quaint and pure, Iuvenall grave and learned, though obscure. But all these rare ones which I heere reherse, Do live againe in Thee, and in thy Verse: Although not in the language of their time, Yet in a speech as copious and sublime. The rare Apelles in thy picture wee Perceive, and in thy soule Apollo see. Wel may each Grace and Muse then crown thy praise With Mars his banner and Minerva's bayes. Fra. Lenton.<10.1>
<10.1> The author of the YOUNG GALLANT'S WHIRLIGIGG, 1629, and
TO COLONEL RICHARD LOVELACE, ON THE PUBLISHING OF HIS INGENIOUS POEMS.
If the desire of glory speak a mind More nobly operative and more refin'd, What vast soule moves thee, or what hero's spirit (Kept in'ts traduction pure) dost thou inherit, That, not contented with one single fame, Dost to a double glory spread thy name, And on thy happy temples safely set Both th' Delphick wreath and civic coronet? Was't not enough for us to know how far Thou couldst in season suffer, act and dare But we must also witnesse, with what height And what Ionick sweetnesse thou canst write, And melt those eager passions, that are Stubborn enough t' enrage the god of war Into a noble love, which may expire<9.1> In an illustrious pyramid of fire; Which, having gained his due station, may Fix there, and everlasting flames display. This is the braver path: time soone can smother The dear-bought spoils and tropheis of the other. How many fiery heroes have there been, Whose triumphs were as soone forgot as seen? Because they wanted some diviner one To rescue
<9.1> Original has ASPIRE.
<9.2> The precocious author of HORAE VACIVAE, 1646, and of a volume of poems which was printed in the same year. In the LUCASTA are some complimentary lines by Lovelace on Hall's translation of the commentary of Hierocles on the Golden Verses of Pythagoras, 1657.
TO THE HONORABLE, VALIANT, AND INGENIOUS COLONEL RICHARD LOVELACE, ON HIS EXQUISITE POEMS.
Poets and painters have some near relation, Compar'd with fancy and imagination; The one paints shadowed persons (in pure kind), The other paints the pictures of the mind In purer verse. And as rare Zeuxes fame Shin'd, till Apelles art eclips'd the same By a more exquisite and curious line In Zeuxeses (with pensill far more fine), So have our modern poets late done well, Till thine appear'd (which scarce have paralel). They like to Zeuxes grapes beguile the sense, But thine do ravish the intelligence, Like the rare banquet of Apelles, drawn, And covered over with most curious lawn. Thus if thy careles draughts are cal'd the best, What would thy lines have beene, had'st thou profest That faculty (infus'd) of poetry, Which adds such honour unto thy chivalry? Doubtles thy verse had all as far transcended As Sydneyes Prose, who Poets once defended. For when I read thy much renowned pen, My fancy there finds out another Ben In thy brave language, judgement, wit, and art, Of every piece of thine, in every part: Where thy seraphique Sydneyan fire is raised high In valour, vertue, love, and loyalty. Virgil was styl'd the loftiest of all, Ovid the smoothest and most naturall; Martiall concise and witty, quaint and pure, Iuvenall grave and learned, though obscure. But all these rare ones which I heere reherse, Do live againe in Thee, and in thy Verse: Although not in the language of their time, Yet in a speech as copious and sublime. The rare Apelles in thy picture wee Perceive, and in thy soule Apollo see. Wel may each Grace and Muse then crown thy praise With Mars his banner and Minerva's bayes. Fra. Lenton.<10.1>
<10.1> The author of the YOUNG GALLANT'S WHIRLIGIGG, 1629, and