Your wise soul, never to be won
Now with a love below the sun.
Your first choice fails; O, when you choose again,
May it not be among the sons of men!
The Complaint of the forsaken wife of Saint Alexis.
LATE the Roman youth's loved praise and
pride,
Whom long none could obtain, though
thousands tried,
Lo, here am left, alas! for my lost mate
T'embrace my tears, and kiss an unkind fate.
Sure in my early woes stars were at strife,
And tried to make a widow ere a wife.
Nor can I tell, and this new tears doth breed,
In what strange path my Lord's fair footsteps bleed. O, knew I where he wander'd, I should see
Some solace in my sorrow's certainty;
I'd send my woes in words should weep for me.
Who knows how pow'rful well-writ pray'rs would be!
Sending's too slow a word, myself would fly;
Who knows my own heart's woes so well as
But how shall I steal hence? Alexis, thou,
Ah, thou thyself, alas! has taught me how
Love, too, that leads thee would lend me the wings
To bear me harmless through the hardest things:
And where love lends the wing, and leads the way,
What dangers can there be dare say me nay?
If I be shipwreck'd, love shall teach to swim;
If drown'd, sweet is the death endured for him;
The noted sea shall change his name with me,
I'mongst the blest stars a new name shall be ;
And sure where lovers make their wat❜ry graves
The weeping mariner will augment the waves.
For who so hard, but, passing by that way,
Will take acquaintance of my woes, and say,
Here't was the Roman maid found a hard fate,
While through the world she sought her wand'ring mate
Here perish'd she, poor heart! heav'ns, be my vows
As true to me as she was to her spouse!
O, live so rare a love! live! and in thee
The too frail life of female constancy.
Farewell, and shine, fair soul, shine there above,
Firm in thy crown as here fast in thy love.
There thy lost fugitive thou hast found at last;
Be happy, and for ever hold him fast!
HOUGH all the joys I had fled hence with thee, Unkind! yet are my tears still true to me; I'm wedded o'er again since thou art gone, Nor could'st thou, cruel, leave me quite alone.
Alexis's widow now is Sorrow's wife,
With him shall I weep out my weary
Welcome, my sad, sweet mate! now have I got
At last a constant love that leaves me not:
Firm he, as thou art false, nor need my
Thus vex the earth, and tear the [lofty] skies.
For him, alas! ne'er shall I need to be
Troublesome to the world, thus, as for thee,
For thee I talk to trees; with silent groves
Expostulate my woes and much-wrong'd loves.
Hills and relentless rocks, or if there be
Things that in hardness more allude to thee;
To these I talk in tears, and tell my pain,
And answer, too, for them in tears again.
How oft have I wept out the weary sun!
My watʼry hour-glass hath old time outrun.
O, I am learned grown, poor love and I
Have studied over all astrology.
I'm perfect in heav'n's state, with every star
My skilful grief is grown familiar.
Rise, fairest of those fires, whateʼer thou be
Whose
rosy beam shall point my sun to me;
Such as the sacred light that erst did bring
The eastern princes to their infant King.
O rise, pure lamp! and lend thy golden ray
That weary love at last
may find his way.
THE THIRD ELEGY.
ICH, churlish land! that hid'st so long in thee,
My treasures, rich, alas! by robbing me.
Needs must my miseries owe that man a spite
Whoe'er he be was the first wand'ring knight.
O, had he ne'er been at that cruel cost
Nature's virginity had ne'er been lost.
Seas had not been rebuked by saucy oars,
But lain lock'd up safe in their sacred shores;
Men had not spurn'd at mountains, nor made wars With rocks; nor bold hands struck the world's strong bars; Nor lost in too large bounds, our little Rome
Full sweetly with itself had dwelt at home.
Alexis then in peaceful life
Had under some low roof loved his plain wife;
But now, ah me! from where he has no foes
He flies, and into wilful exile goes.
Cruel, return; or tell the reason why
Thy dearest parents have deserved to die;
And I, what is my crime I cannot tell,
Unless it be a crime t' have loved too well.
If heats of holier love and high desire
Make big thy fair breast with immortal fire,
What needs my virgin lord fly thus from me,
Who only wish his virgin wife to be?
Witness, chaste heav'ns! no happier vows I know
Than to a virgin grave untouch'd to go.
Love's truest knot by Venus is not tied,
Nor do embraces only make a bride.
of angels, and men chaste as you, Was maiden wife, and maiden mother too. Cecilia, glory of her name and blood,
With happy gain her maiden vows made good.
The lusty bridegroom made approach: young man,
Take heed, said she, take heed, Valerian!
My bosom's guard, a spirit great and strong,
Stands armed to shield me from all wanton wrong.
My charity is sacred, and my sleep
Wakeful, her dear vows undefiled to keep.
Pallas bears arms, forsooth, and should there be
No fortress built for true virginity?
No gaping gorgon this, none, like the rest
Of your learned lies: here you'll find no such jest.
I'm yours; O, were my God, my Christ so too,
I'd know no name of love on earth but you.
He yields, and straight baptized, obtains the grace
To gaze on the fair soldier's glorious face.
Both mix'd at last their blood in one rich bed
Of rosy martyrdom twice married.
O, burn our Hymen bright in such high flame;
Thy torch, terrestrial love, have here no name.
How sweet the mutual yoke of man and wife,
When holy fires maintain love's heav'nly life!
But I, so help me, Heav'n, my hopes to see,
When thousands sought my love, loved none but thee.
Still as their vain tears my firm vows did try,
Alexis, he alone is mine, said I;
Half true, alas! half false proves that poor line,
Alexis is alone, but is not mine.
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