CANZONE.*

Ridonsi donne e giovani amorosi

M' accostandosi attorno, e perche scrivi,
Perche tu scrivi in lingua ignota e strana
Verseggiando d' amor, e come t'osi?
Dinne, se la tua speme sia mai vana,
E de pensieri lo miglior t'arrivi;
Cosi mi van burlando, altri rivi
Aliri lidi t'aspettan, ed altre onde
Nelle cui verdi sponde

Spuntati ad hor, ad hor a la tua chioma
L'immortal guiderdon d' eterne frondi
Perche alle spalle tue soverchia soma?
Canzon dirotti, e tu per me rispondi
Dice mia Donna, e'l suo dir, é il mio cuore
Questa e lingua di cui si vanta Amore.

IV.

Diodati, e te'l dirò con maraviglia,

Quel ritroso io ch'amor spreggiar soléa
E de suoi lacci spesso mi ridéa

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10

15

Gia caddi, ov❜ huom dabben talhor s' impiglia. Ne treccie d'oro, ne guancia vermiglia

M' abbaglian sì, ma sotto novo idea
Pellegrina bellezza che'l cuor bea,
Portamenti alti honesti,1 e nelle ciglia
Quel sereno fulgor d'amabil nero,
Parole adorne di lingua piu d'una,
E'l cantar che di mezzo l'hemispero
Traviar ben puo la faticosa Luna,
E degli occhi suoi auventa si gran
Che l'incerar gli orecchi mi fia poco.

fuoco

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V.

Per certo i bei vostr' occhi, Donna mia
Esser non puo che non sian lo mio sole
Si mi percuoton forte, come ei suole
Per l'arene di Libia chi s' invia,
Mentre un caldo vapor (ne sentì pria)
Da quel lato si spinge ove mi duole,
Che forse amanti nelle lor parole
Chiaman sospir; io non so che si sia :
Parte rinchiusa, e turbida si cela:

Scosso mi il petto, e poi n'uscendo poco
Quivi d' attorno o s' agghiaccia, o s' ingiela;
Ma quanto a gli occi giunge a trovar loco
Tutte le notti a me suol far piovose
Finche mia Alba rivien colma di rose.'

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VI.

Giovane piano, e semplicetto amante
Poi che fuggir me stesso in dubbio sono,
Madonna a voi del mio cuor l' humil dono
Farò divoto; io certo a prove tante
L'hebbi fedele, intrepido, costante,

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De pensieri leggiadro, accorto, e buono ;
Quando rugge il gran mondo, e scocca il tuono,
S'arma di se, e d' intero diamante :
Tanto del forse, e d' invidia sicuro,
Di timori, e speranze, al popol use,
Quanto d' ingegno, e d' alto valor vago,

E di cetra sonora, e delle muse :
Sol troverete in tal parte men duro,
Ove Amor mise l' insanabil ago '

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ON HIS BEING ARRIVED TO THE AGE OF TWENTY-THREE.

How soon hath Time,' the subtle thief of youth, Stolen on his wing my three and twentieth year! My hasting days fly on with full career,

But my late spring no bud or blossom shew'th, Perhaps my semblance might deceive the truth, 5 That I to manhood am arrived so near;

And inward ripeness doth much less appear, That some more timely-happy spirits endu'th. Yet be it less or more, or soon or slow,

10

It shall be still in strictest measure even To that same lot, however mean or high, Toward which Time leads me, and the will of

Heaven;

All is, if I have grace to use it so,

As ever in my great Task-Master's eye.

VIII.

WHEN THE ASSAULT WAS INTENDED TO THE CITY.

Captain, or Colonel, or Knight in arms,

Whose chance on these defenceless doors may seize,

If deed of honour did thee ever please,

Guard them, and him within protect from harms.

He can requite thee; for he knows the charms 5

That call fame on such gentle acts as these, And he can spread thy name o'er lands and

seas,

Whatever clime the sun's bright circle warms. Lift not thy spear against the Muses' bower: The great Emathian conquerour bid spare The house of Pindarus,' when temple and

tower

Went to the ground: and the repeated air
Of sad Electra's poét' had the power

To save the Athenian walls from ruin bare.

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IX.

TO A VIRTUOUS YOUNG LADY:

Lady, that in the prime of earliest youth
Wisely hast shunn'd the broad way and the
green,

And with those few art eminently seen,
That labour up the hill of heavenly truth;
The better part with Mary and with Ruth
Chosen thou hast; and they that overween,
And at thy growing virtues fret their spleen,
No anger find in thee, but pity and ruth.
Thy care is fix'd, and zealously attends

To fill thy odorous lamp with deeds of light, 10
And hope that reaps not shame.' Therefore be

sure,

Thou, when the bridegroom with his feastful friends 2

Passes to bliss at the mid hour of night,

Hast gain'd thy entrance, Virgin wise and pure.

X.

TO THE LADY MARGARET LEY.

Daughter to that good earl,' once president
Of England's council and her treasury,
Who lived in both, unstain'd with gold or fee,
And left them both, more in himself content,
Till sad the breaking of that parliament
Broke him, as that dishonest victory
At Chæronea, fatal to liberty,

5

Kill'd with report that old man eloquent." Though later born than to have known the days Wherein your father flourish'd, yet by you, 10 Madam, methinks I see him living yet; So well your words his noble virtues praise, That all both judge you to relate them true, And to possess them, honour'd Margaret.

XI.

ON THE DETRACTION WHICH FOLLOWED UPON MY WRITING CERTAIN TREATISES.* A book was writ of late call'd Tetrachordon,'' And woven close, both matter, form, and style; The subject new it walk'd the town awhile, Numbering good intellects; now seldom pored

on.

Cries the stall-reader, Bless us! what a word on 5
A title-page is this! and some in file

Stand spelling false, while one might walk to
Mile-

End Green. Why is it harder, sirs, than

Gordon,

VOL. VI.

H