« السابقةمتابعة »
All heaven shines forth in her sweet face's frame:
Her seeing stars (which we miscall bright eyes) More bright than is the morning's brightest flame, More fruitful than the May-time Geminies :
These, back restore the timely summer's fire;
Those, springing thoughts in winter hearts inspire, Inspiriting dead souls, and quickening warm desire.
These two fair suns in heavenly spheres are placed,
Where in the centre joy triumphing sits : Thus in all high perfections fully graced, Her mid-day bliss no future night admits
But in the mirrors of her Spouse's eyes
Her fairest self she dresses; there where lies All sweets, a glorious beauty to emparadise.
His locks like raven's plumes, or shining jet,
Fall down in curls along his ivory neck; Within their circlets hundred graces set, And with love-knots their comely hangings deck :
His mighty shoulders, like that giant swain,
All heaven and earth, and all in both sustain; Yet knows no weariness, nor feels oppressing pain.
Her amber hair like to the sunny ray,
With gold enamels fair the silver white; There heavenly loves their pretty sportings play, Firing their darts in that wide flaming light:
Her dainty neck, spread with that silver mould,
Where double beauty doth itself unfold, In the own fair silver shines, and fairer borrow'd gold.
His breast a rock of purest alabaster,
Hers a twin-rock, unknown but to the shipmaster;
Where better could her love than here have nested,
Or he his thoughts than here more sweetly feasted ? Then both their love and thoughts in each are ever rested. Run now, you shepherd swains; ah! run you thither,
Where this fair bridegroom leads the blessed way: And haste, you lovely maids, haste you together With this sweet bride, while yet the sunshine day Guides
your blind steps; while yet loud summons
That every wood and hill resounds withal,
While heavenly spheres unto the voices play'd.
Stoop now thy wing, my muse, now stoop thee low:
Hence mayst thou freely play, and rest thee now; While here I hang my pipe upon the willow bough. So up they rose, while all the shepherds' throng
With their loud pipes a country triumph blew, And led their Thirsil home with joyful song: Meantime the lovely nymphs, with garlands new
His locks in bay and honour'd palm-tree bound,
With lilies set, and hyacinths around, And lord of all the year and their May sportings crown'd.
END OF VOL. I.
BALLANTYNE AND COMPANY, PRINTERS, EDINBURGH,