To hear her dear tongue robb'd of such a joy,
Made the well-spoken nymph take such a toy*,
That down she sunk: when lightning from above,
Shrunk her lean body, and for mere free love,
Turn'd her into the pied-plum'd Psittacus,
That now the parrot is surnam'd by us,
Who still with counterfeit confusion prates
Nought but news common to the common'st mates.-
This told, strange Teras touch'd her lute, and sung
This ditty, that the torchy evening sprung.
EPITHALAMION TERATOS.
Come, come, dear Night! Love's mart of kisses!
Sweet close of his ambitious line,
The fruitful summer of his blisses,
Love's glory doth in darkness shine.
O come, soft rest of cares! come, Night!
Come, naked virtue's only tire,
The reaped harvest of the light,
Bound up in sheaves of sacred fire,
Love calls to war,→
Sighs his alarms,
Lips his swords are,
The field his arms.
Come, Night, and lay thy velvet hand
On glorious Day's outfacing face:
And all thy crowned flames command,
For torches to our nuptial grace.
Sudden humour, or fancy.
Love calls to war,-
Sighs his alarms,
Lips his swords are,
The field his arms.
No need have we of factious Day,
To cast, in envy of thy peace,
Her balls of discord in thy way:
Here Beauty's day doth never cease,
Day is abstracted here,
And varied in a triple sphere.
Hero, Alcmane, Mya, so outshine thee,
Ere thou come here let Thetis thrice refine thee.
Love calls to war,—
Sighs his alarms,
Lips his swords are,
The field his arms.
The evening star I see;
Rise, youths! the evening star
Helps Love to summon war,
Both now embracing be.
Rise, youths! Love's right claims more than banquets; rise!
Now the bright marygolds, that deck the skies,
Phœbus' celestial flowers, that, contrary
To his flowers here, ope when he shuts his eye,
And shuts when he doth open, crown your sports:
Now love in night, and night in love exhorts
Courtship and dances: all your parts employ,
And suit Night's rich expansure with your joy;
Love paints his longings in sweet virgins' eyes: Rise, youths! Love's right claims more than banquets; rise!
Rise, virgins! let fair nuptial loves infold Your fruitless breasts: the maidenheads ye Are not your own alone, but parted are, Part in disposing them your parents' share, And that a third part is: so must you save Your loves a third, and you your thirds must have. Love paints his longings in sweet virgins' eyes: Rise, youths! Love's right claims more than banquets; rise!
Herewith the amorous spirit, that was so kind
To Teras' hair, and comb'd it down with wind,
Still as it, comet-like, brake from her brain,
Would needs have Teras gone, and did refrain
To blow it down: which staring up, dismay'd
The timorous feast, and she no longer stay'd;
But bowing to the bridegroom and the bride,
Did like a shooting exhalation glide
Out of their sights: the turning of her back
Made them all shriek, it look'd so ghastly black.
O hapless Hero! that most hapless cloud
Thy soon succeeding tragedy foreshow'd.-
Thus all the nuptial crew to joys depart,
But much wrung Hero stood Hell's blackest dart:
Whose wound because I grieve so to display,
I use digressions thus t'increase the day.
THE ARGUMENT OF THE SIXTH SESTYAD.
Leucote flies to all the winds,
And from the Fates their outrage blinds,
That Hero and her love may meet.
Leander, with Love's complete fleet
Mann'd in himself, puts forth to seas,
When straight the ruthless Destinies,
With Até, stir the winds to war
Upon the Hellespont: their jar
Drowns poor Leander. Hero's eyes,
Wet witnesses of his surprise,
Her torch blown out: grief casts her down
Upon her love, and both doth drown.
In whose just ruth the God of Seas
Transforms them to th' Acanthides.
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