Lyrical Poems [38]
hair Adorn'd this smoother mead.
Like unthrifts, having spent Your stock, and needy grown You're left here to lament Your poor estates alone.
*203*
TO A GENTLEWOMAN, OBJECTING TO HIM HIS GRAY HAIRS
Am I despised, because you say; And I dare swear, that I am gray? Know, Lady, you have but your day! And time will come when you shall wear Such frost and snow upon your hair; And when, though long, it comes to pass, You question with your looking-glass, And in that sincere crystal seek But find no rose-bud in your cheek, Nor any bed to give the shew Where such a rare carnation grew:- Ah! then too late, close in your chamber keeping, It will be told That you are old,-- By those true tears you're weeping.
*204*
THE CHANGES: TO CORINNA
Be not proud, but now incline Your soft ear to discipline; You have changes in your life, Sometimes peace, and sometimes strife; You have ebbs of face and flows, As your health or comes or goes; You have hopes, and doubts, and fears, Numberless as are your hairs; You have pulses that do beat High, and passions less of heat; You are young, but must be old:-- And, to these, ye must be told, Time, ere long, will come and plow Loathed furrows in your brow: And the dimness of your eye Will no other thing imply, But you must die As well as I.
*205*
UPON MRS ELIZ. WHEELER, UNDER THE NAME OF AMARILLIS
Sweet Amarillis, by a spring's Soft and soul-melting murmurings, Slept; and thus sleeping, thither flew A Robin-red-breast; who at view, Not seeing her at all to stir, Brought leaves and moss to cover her: But while he, perking, there did pry About the arch of either eye, The lid began to let out day,-- At which poor Robin flew away; And seeing her not dead, but all disleaved, He chirpt for joy, to see himself deceived.
*206*
NO FAULT IN WOMEN
No fault in women, to refuse The offer which they most would chuse. --No fault: in women, to confess How tedious they are in their dress; --No fault in women, to lay on The tincture of vermilion; And there to give the cheek a dye Of white, where Nature doth deny. --No fault in women, to make show Of largeness, when they're nothing so; When, true it is, the outside swells With inward buckram, little else. --No fault in women, though they be But seldom from suspicion free; --No fault in womankind at all, If they but slip, and never fall.
*207*
THE BAG OF THE BEE
About the sweet bag of a bee Two Cupids fell at odds; And whose the pretty prize should be They vow'd to ask the Gods.
Which Venus hearing, thither came, And for their boldness stript them; And taking thence from each his flame, With rods of myrtle whipt them.
Which done, to still their wanton cries, When quiet grown she'd seen them, She kiss'd and wiped their dove-like eyes, And gave the bag between them.
*208*
THE PRESENT; OR, THE BAG OF THE BEE:
Fly to my mistress, pretty pilfering bee, And say thou bring'st this honey-bag from me; When on her lip thou hast thy sweet dew placed, Mark if her tongue but slyly steal a taste; If so, we live; if not, with mournful hum, Toll forth my death; next, to my burial come.
*209*
TO THE WATER-NYMPHS DRINKING AT THE FOUNTAIN
Reach with your whiter hands to me Some crystal of the spring; And I about the cup shall see Fresh lilies flourishing.
Or else, sweet nymphs, do you but this-- To th' glass your lips incline; And I shall see by that one kiss The water turn'd to wine.
*210*
HOW SPRINGS CAME FIRST
These springs were maidens once that loved, But lost to that they most approved: My story tells, by Love they were Turn'd to these springs which we see here: The pretty whimpering that they make, When of the banks their leave they take, Tells ye but this, they are the same, In nothing changed but in their name.
*211*
TO THE HANDSOME MISTRESS GRACE POTTER
As is your name, so is your comely face Touch'd every where with such diffused grace, As that in all that admirable round, There is not one least solecism found; And as that part, so every portion else Keeps line for line
Like unthrifts, having spent Your stock, and needy grown You're left here to lament Your poor estates alone.
*203*
TO A GENTLEWOMAN, OBJECTING TO HIM HIS GRAY HAIRS
Am I despised, because you say; And I dare swear, that I am gray? Know, Lady, you have but your day! And time will come when you shall wear Such frost and snow upon your hair; And when, though long, it comes to pass, You question with your looking-glass, And in that sincere crystal seek But find no rose-bud in your cheek, Nor any bed to give the shew Where such a rare carnation grew:- Ah! then too late, close in your chamber keeping, It will be told That you are old,-- By those true tears you're weeping.
*204*
THE CHANGES: TO CORINNA
Be not proud, but now incline Your soft ear to discipline; You have changes in your life, Sometimes peace, and sometimes strife; You have ebbs of face and flows, As your health or comes or goes; You have hopes, and doubts, and fears, Numberless as are your hairs; You have pulses that do beat High, and passions less of heat; You are young, but must be old:-- And, to these, ye must be told, Time, ere long, will come and plow Loathed furrows in your brow: And the dimness of your eye Will no other thing imply, But you must die As well as I.
*205*
UPON MRS ELIZ. WHEELER, UNDER THE NAME OF AMARILLIS
Sweet Amarillis, by a spring's Soft and soul-melting murmurings, Slept; and thus sleeping, thither flew A Robin-red-breast; who at view, Not seeing her at all to stir, Brought leaves and moss to cover her: But while he, perking, there did pry About the arch of either eye, The lid began to let out day,-- At which poor Robin flew away; And seeing her not dead, but all disleaved, He chirpt for joy, to see himself deceived.
*206*
NO FAULT IN WOMEN
No fault in women, to refuse The offer which they most would chuse. --No fault: in women, to confess How tedious they are in their dress; --No fault in women, to lay on The tincture of vermilion; And there to give the cheek a dye Of white, where Nature doth deny. --No fault in women, to make show Of largeness, when they're nothing so; When, true it is, the outside swells With inward buckram, little else. --No fault in women, though they be But seldom from suspicion free; --No fault in womankind at all, If they but slip, and never fall.
*207*
THE BAG OF THE BEE
About the sweet bag of a bee Two Cupids fell at odds; And whose the pretty prize should be They vow'd to ask the Gods.
Which Venus hearing, thither came, And for their boldness stript them; And taking thence from each his flame, With rods of myrtle whipt them.
Which done, to still their wanton cries, When quiet grown she'd seen them, She kiss'd and wiped their dove-like eyes, And gave the bag between them.
*208*
THE PRESENT; OR, THE BAG OF THE BEE:
Fly to my mistress, pretty pilfering bee, And say thou bring'st this honey-bag from me; When on her lip thou hast thy sweet dew placed, Mark if her tongue but slyly steal a taste; If so, we live; if not, with mournful hum, Toll forth my death; next, to my burial come.
*209*
TO THE WATER-NYMPHS DRINKING AT THE FOUNTAIN
Reach with your whiter hands to me Some crystal of the spring; And I about the cup shall see Fresh lilies flourishing.
Or else, sweet nymphs, do you but this-- To th' glass your lips incline; And I shall see by that one kiss The water turn'd to wine.
*210*
HOW SPRINGS CAME FIRST
These springs were maidens once that loved, But lost to that they most approved: My story tells, by Love they were Turn'd to these springs which we see here: The pretty whimpering that they make, When of the banks their leave they take, Tells ye but this, they are the same, In nothing changed but in their name.
*211*
TO THE HANDSOME MISTRESS GRACE POTTER
As is your name, so is your comely face Touch'd every where with such diffused grace, As that in all that admirable round, There is not one least solecism found; And as that part, so every portion else Keeps line for line