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“Be seas and skies thy foes! no gentle gale
Blow on thy shrouds ! destruction fill thy sail !
No star to thee (lost in despair and night)
When thou invok'st, disclose its friendly light!
To Scythian pirates (such as shall despise
Thy fruitless tears) may'st thou become a prize,
By whose inhuman usage may'st thou be
Spoil'd of the liberty thou took'st from me.
" Then thou the difference shalt understand
Betwixt the shafts shot from a Thracian hand,
And lover's eye; the odds betwixt a rude
Insulting foe, and love's soft servitude:
The breast his golden darts not pierc'd, shall feel
The sharp impression of more cruel steel,
And thoui, enslav’d, which are the stronger prove,
The fetters of barbarians, or of love.
“ Ye seas and skies, which of my amorous care
The kindly faithful secretaries are,
To you my crying sorrows I address,
To you, the witnesses of my distress,
Shores by the loss of my fair sun forlorn,
Winds, who my sole delight away have borne,
Rocks, the spectators of my hapless fate,
And night, that hear'st me mourn disconsolate.
“Nor without reason is 't (alas !) that I
To stars and sands bewail my misery;
For with my state they some proportion bear,
And numberless as are my woes appear.
Heaven in this choir of beauteous lights doth scem
To represent what I have lost in him :
The sea, to whom his flight I chiefly owe,
His heart in rocks, my tears in waves doth show,
“ And since to these eternal fires, whose light
Makes Sleep's dark mansion so serenely bright,
I turn, what one amongst them shall I find
To pity me above the rest inclin'd ?
She who in Naxos, when forsook, did meet
A better spouse than him she chose in Crete,
Though all the rest severely are intent
To work me harm, should be more mildly bent.
“O thou, who gild'st the pompous train of night,
With the addition of thy glorious light,
Whose radiant hair a crown adorns, whence streams
The dazzling lustre of seven blazing gems :
If that extremity thou not forget,
If thy own sorrows thou remember yet,
Stop, at my sighs awhile, and make the crew
Of thy bright fellows stay and hearken too.
“ Thou know'st the like occasions of our fate,
Both circumvented by unkind deceit ;
A cruel I, a love ungrateful thou
Didst follow, both to equal suff'rings bow ;
In this to thine a near resemblance bears,
The cause that dooms me to eternal tears ;
I now am left, as thou wert heretofore,
Alone upon the solitary shore.
“But howsoever our misfortunes share
The same effects, their causes diff'rent are :
I my poor self no other have deceiv'd ;
Thy brother was thro’ thee of life bereav'd.
Sleep thy betrayer was, but love was mine,
Thou by thy short eclipse didst brighter shine,
And in the skies a crown of stars obtain,
But I on Earth (forsaken) still remain.
“Fool, to whose care dost thou thy grief impart? What dost thou talk, or know'st thou where thou
She, ʼmidst a dancing bevy of fair lights,
Trips it away, and thy misfortune slights :
Yet happy may she go, and her clear beams,
Whilst I lament, drench in the brinish streams;
Perhaps the sea, to my afflicted state,
Will prove than her less incompassionate.
“But how on seas for help should I rely,
Where nothing we but waves and rocks can spy?
Yet so small hopes of succour hath my grief,
That of those rocks and waves I beg relief.
Down from these rocks, of life my troubled breast
By a sad precipice may be releast,
And my impurer soul in these waves may
Quench her loose flames, and wash her stains away.
“Ah, Lydia, Lydia. whither dost thou send
Thy lost complaint? Why words so fruitless spend
To angry waves ? to winds, where horrour roars ?
To rocks that have no ears? to senseless shores?
Thou giv'st thy grief this liberty in vain,
If liberty from grief thou canst not gain;
And fond presumption will thy hopes abuse,
Unless thou grief and life together lose.
“Die, then! so shall my ghost (as with despair
Laden it flies) raise in the troubled air
Tempests more loud than thunder, storms
Than Hell or horrour, in curld waves to wrack
His ship and him: so (and 'tis just) shall I
And my proud foe, at least, together die :
On him, who first these bitter sorrows bred,
Seas shall avenge the seas of tears I shed."
This said, she made a stop; and with rash haste
(By violent despair assisted) cast
Herself down headlong in the raging sea,
Where she believ'd it deepest : now to be
Sadly by her enrich'd; whilst from her fair
Vermilion lips, bright eyes, Phæbeian hair,
Coral a purer tincture doth endue,
Crystal new light, pearls a more orient hue.
Such was the hapless fate of Lydia,
Who in those waves from which the king of day
Each morn ascends the blushing East, in those
From which the queen of love and beauty rose,
A second queen of love and beauty perish’d,
Who in her looks a thousand graces cherish'd;
And by a sad fate (not unpitied yet)
A second sun eternally did set.
Sweet beauty, the sad wrack of ruthless seas,
And ill-plac'd love, whom cruel destinies
Have food for monsters made, and sport for waves,
With whom so many graces had their graves,
If vain be not my hopes, if no dead fire
These lines devoted to thy name inspire,
Though buried in the sea's salt waves thou lie,
Yet in oblivion's waves thou shalt not die.
OUT OF THE GREEK OF COLUTHUS.
Ye Trojan nymphs! Xanthus' fair progeny!
Who, on your father's sands oft laying by
Your sacred armlets, and heads' reedy tires,
Ascend to dance on Ide in mixed choirs,
Quit your rough flood; and tell the Phrygian
Just verdict: how the hills he left, the main's
New toils to undergo: his mind what press'd
With fatal ships both sea and land t infest;
Whence did that unexpected strife arise,
Which made a shepherd judge 'twixt deities:
What was his bold award; how to his ear
Arriv'd the fair Greek's name; for you were there:
And Paris thron'd in Ida's shades did see,
And Venus glorying in her victory.
When tall Thessalian mountains the delights
Witness'd of Peleus's hymenäal rites,
Ganymede nectar, at the sacred feast,
By Jove's command, fill’d out to every guest;
For all descended from celestial race,
That day, with equal forwardness to grace
Fair Thetis (Amphitrite's sister) strove.
From seas came Neptune, from the Heavens came
And Phæbus from the Heliconian spring,
Did the sweet consort of the Muses bring.
Next whom, the sister to the thunderer,
Majestic Juno, came: nor did the fair
Harmonia's mother, Venus, stay behind;
Suada went too, who for the bride entwin'd