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That 'tis too much for human race to know
This Justin heard, nor could his spleen control
wed And to my fervent prayers so far consent, That, ere the rites are o'er you may repent ! Good Heaven, no doubt, the nuptial state approves, Since it chastises still what best it loves. Then be not, sir, abandon’d to desrair ; Seek, and perhaps you'll find among the fair, One that may do your business to a hair : Not e'en in wish, your happiness delay, But prove
the scourge to lash you on your way. Then to the skies your mounting soul shall go, Swift as an arrow soaring from the bow! Provided still, you moderate your joy, Nor in your pleasures all your might employ. Let reason's rule your strong desires abate, Nor please too lavishly your gentle mate. Old wives there are, of judgment most acute, Who solve these questions beyond all dispute ; Consult with those, and be of better cheer; Marry, do penance, and dismiss your fear.'
So said, they rose, nor more the work delay'd; The match was offered, the proposals made. The parents, you may think, would soon comply ; The old have interest ever in their
eye. Nor was it hard to move the lady's mind ; When fortune favours, still the fair are kind.
I pass each previous settlement and deed, Too long for me to wri or you to read ; Nor will with quaint impertinence display The pomp, the pageantry, the proud arrav
The time approach'd, to church the parties went,
And now the palace gates are open'd wide,
bling string. Not thus Amphion tuned the warbling lyre, Nor Joab the sounding clarion could inspire, Nor fierce Theodamus, whose sprightly strain Could swell the soul to rage, and fire the martial
train. Bacchus himself, the nuptial feast to grace, (So poets sing) was present on the place: And lovely Venus, goddess of delight, Shook high her flaming torch in open,sight. And danced around, and smiled on every knight : Pleased her best servant would his courage try, No less in wedlock, than in liberty. Full many an age old Hymen had not spied So kind a bridegroom, or so bright a bride. Ye bards! renown'd among the tuneful throng For gentle lays, and joyous nuptial song, Think not your softest numbers can display The matchless glories of the blissful day: The joys are such as far transcend your rage, When tender youth has wedded stooping age.
The beauteous dame sat smiling at the board, And darted amorous glances at her lora. Not Esther's self, whose charms the Hebrews sing, E’er look'd so lovely on her Persian king.
Bright as the rising sun in summer's day,
Damian alone of all the menial train,
The wearied sun, as learned poets write,
The foe once gone, our knight prepared to undress So keen he was, and eager to possess : But first thought fit the assistance to receive, Which grave physicians scruple not to give: Satyrion near, with hot eringos stood, Cantharides, to fire the lazy blood, Whose use old bards describe in luscious rhymes, And critics learn'd explain to modern times.
this the sheets were spread, the bride undress'd, The room was sprinkled, and the bed was bless'do
What next ensued beseems not me to say ; 'Tis
sung, he labour'd till the dawning day, Then briskly sprung from bed, with heart so liglang As all were nothing he had done by night; And sipp'd his cordial as he sat upright. He kiss'd his balmy spouse with wanton play, And feebly sung a lusty roundelay: Then on the couch his weary limbs he cast : For every labour must have rest at last.
But anxious cares the pensive ?squire oppress'd, Sleep fled his
peace forsook his breast
When now the fourth revolving day was run, ('Twas June, and Cancer had received the sun,) Forth from her chamber came the beauteous bride The good old knight moved slowly by her side. High mass was sung; they feasted in the hall; The servants round stood ready at their call. The 'squire alone was absent from the board, And much his sickness grieved his worthy lord, Who pray'd his spouse, attended with her train. To visit Damian, and divert his pain. The obliging dames obey'd with one consent : They left the hall, and to his lodging went. The female tribe surround him as he lay, And close beside him sate the gentle May: Where, as she tried his pulse, he softly drew A heaving sigh, and cast a mournful view! Then gave
his bill, and bribed the powers divine With secret vows, to favour his design.
Who studies now but discontented May?
What then he did, I'll not presume to tell,
Were it by forceful destiny decreed,
Ye fair, draw near, let May's example move Your gentle minds to pity those who love ! Had some fierce tyrant, in her stead been found, The poor adorer sure had hang'd or drown'd: But she, your sex's mirror, free from pride, Was much too meek to prove a homicide.
But to my tale: Some sages have defined, Pleasure the sovereign bliss of human-kind : Our knight (who studied much, we may suppose, Derived his high philosophy from those ! For, like a prince, he bore the vast expense Of lavish pomp, and proud magnificence: His house was stately, his retinue gay; Large was his train, and gorgeous his array. His spacious garden, made to yield to none, Was compass'd round with walls of solid stone ; Priapus could not half describe the grace Though god of gardens) of this charming place A place to tire the rambling wits of France In long descriptions, and exceed romance ; Enough to shame the gentlest bard that sings Of painted meadows, and of purling springs.
Full in the centre of the flowery ground, A crystal fountain spread its streams around The fruitful banks with verdant laurels crown'd; About this spring (if ancient fame say true) The dapper elves their moon-light sports pursue ;