Thomas Stanley: His Original Lyrics Part 11

Jove[65:1] loves water: give me wine, That my soul ere I resign May this cure of sorrow have.

There's no drinking in the grave! 10

III. _The Spring._

See, the Spring herself discloses, And the Graces gather roses; See how the becalmed seas Now their swelling waves appease; How the duck swims; how the crane 5 Comes from 's winter home again; See how t.i.tan's cheerful ray Chaseth the dark clouds away!

Now in their new robes of green Are the ploughman's labours seen; 10 Now the l.u.s.ty teeming earth Springs, each hour, with a new birth; Now the olive blooms; the vine Now cloth with plump pendants s.h.i.+ne, And with leaves and blossoms now 15 Freshly bourgeons every bough.

IV. _The Combat._

Now will I a lover be!

Love himself commanded me.

Full at first of stubborn pride, To submit, my soul denied. 20 He his quiver takes, and bow, Bids defiance: forth I go.

Armed with spear and s.h.i.+eld we meet: On he charges: I retreat,

Till, perceiving in the fight 25 He had wasted every flight, Into me, with fury hot, Like a dart himself he shot.

And my cold heart melts; my s.h.i.+eld Useless, no defence could yield; 30 For what boots an outward screen, When, alas, the fight's within?

V.

On this verdant lotus laid, Underneath the myrtle's shade, Let us drink our sorrows dead, Whilst Love plays the Ganymed.

Life like to[66:1] a wheel runs round: 5 And, ere long, we underground Ta'en by death asunder, must Moulder in forgotten dust.

Why then graves should we bedew, Why the ground with odours strew? 10 Better, whilst alive, prepare Flowers and unguents for our hair.

Come, my Fair,[66:2] and come away!

All our cares behind us lay, That these pleasures we may know, 15 Ere we come to those below.

E. CATALECTIS VET[ERUM] POET[ARUM].

A small well-gotten stock, and country seat I have, yet my content makes both seem great.

My quiet soul to fears is not inur'd, And from the sins of idleness secur'd.

Others may seek the camp, others the town, 5 And fool themselves with pleasure or renown; Let me, unminded in the common crowd, Live, master of the time that I'm allow'd!

SEVEN EPIGRAMS.[67:1]

[Plato.]

I. _Upon One named Aster._

The stars, my Star! thou view'st: heaven I would be, That I with thousand eyes might gaze on thee.

II. _Upon Aster's Death._

A Phosphor 'mongst the living late wert thou, But s.h.i.+n'st, among the dead, a Hesper now.

III. _On Dion, engraved on his Tomb at Syracuse._

Old Hecuba, the Trojan matron's, years Were interwoven by the Fates with tears, But thee, with blooming hopes, my Dion! deck'd, G.o.ds did a trophy of their power erect.

Thy honour'd relics in thy country rest, 5 Ah, Dion! whose love rages in my breast.

IV. _On Alexis._

'Fair is Alexis,' I no sooner said, When every one his eyes that way convey'd.

My soul, as when some dog a bone we show Who s.n.a.t.c.heth it,--lost we not Phaedrus so?

V. _On Archaeana.s.sa._

To Archaeana.s.sa, on whose furrow'd brow Love sits in triumph, I my service vow.

If her declining graces s.h.i.+ne so bright, What flames felt you who saw her noon of light?

VI. _Love Sleeping._

Within the covert of a shady grove We saw the little red-cheek'd G.o.d of Love: He had nor bow nor quiver: these among The neighbouring trees upon a bow were hung.

Upon a bank of tender rosebuds laid, 5 He smiling slept; bees with their noise invade His rest, and on his lips their honey made.

VII. _On a Seal._

Five oxen, grazing in a flowery mead, A jasper seal, (done to the life,) doth hold; The little herd away long since had fled, Were't not enclos'd within a pale of gold.

TEXTUAL NOTES

1:1. _To the Countess of S. with 'The Holy Court'_ (p. 6).

This is most probably Dorothy Spencer, born Sidney, Countess of Sunderland, Waller's 'Saccharissa,' then a widow: a woman entirely worthy of Stanley's admiration, and within his circle of personal friends. _The Holy Court_, a practical and devotional treatise by Nicolas Caussin, S.J., was first translated into English by Sir Thomas Hawkins, and published in London in 1626. There was a fine five-volume edition printed in 1650. A copy of this may, very likely, have been Stanley's gift. The poem, 1651, is preceded by 'Madam' in formal address.

2:1. _Drawn for Valentine, etc._ (p. 7).

The Editor guesses this young lady, the 'bright dawn,' who will 'challenge every heart,' later, to be the future Marchioness of Halifax, the little Dorothy, daughter of the Earl of Sunderland (who was killed at Newbury when she was three years old), and 'Saccharissa.' She was eleven in 1651. Waller, Sedley, and others, have left happier poems addressed to children, in the same forced tone, which was quite characteristic of the time.

'_Dear, fold me once more in thine arms_' (p. 10).

3:1. P. 10, line 15. A final couplet difficult to scan. If correctly printed, it has a dissyllable rhyme, with the accentual stress on '_wi_' thee.'

_Love's Innocence_ (p. 12).