Oh when, alas! shall more auspicious gales
To these fond eyes restore thy welcome sails?
If you return-ah! why these long delays?
Poor Sappho dies, while careless Phaon stays.
O launch thy bark, nor fear the watery
plain;

250 Venus for thee shall smoothe her native main.

O launch thy bark, secure of prosperous gales;
Cupid for thee shall spread the swelling sails.
If you will fly-(yet ah! what cause can be,
Too cruel youth, that you should fly from me?)
If not from Phaon I must hope for ease,
Ah let me seek it from the raging seas:
To raging seas unpitied I'll remove,
And either cease to live or cease to love!

256

JANUARY AND MAY;

OR, THE MERCHANT'S TALE.1

FROM CHAUCER.

HERE lived in Lombardy, as authors write,

In days of old, a wise and worthy

knight;

Of gentle manners, as of generous race,
Blessed with much sense, more riches, and some

grace;

Yet led astray by Venus' soft delights,
He scarce could rule some idle appetites:
For long ago, let priests say what they could,
Weak sinful laymen were but flesh and blood.

5

This translation was done at sixteen or seventeen years of age.-P.

But in due time, when sixty years were o'er, He vowed to lead this vicious life no more; 10 Whether pure holiness inspired his mind, Or dotage turned his brain, is hard to find: But his high courage pricked him forth to wed,

15

And try the pleasures of a lawful bed.
This was his nightly dream, his daily care,
And to the heavenly powers his constant prayer,
Once ere he died, to taste the blissful life
Of a kind husband and a loving wife.

These thoughts he fortified with reasons still,
For none want reasons to confirm their will. 20
Grave authors say, and witty poets sing,
That honest wedlock is a glorious thing:
But depth of judgment most in him appears,
Who wisely weds in his maturer years.
Then let him choose a damsel young and fair, 25
To bless his age, and bring a worthy heir;

To soothe his cares, and free from noise and strife,

Conduct him gently to the verge of life.
Let sinful bachelors their woes deplore,
Full well they merit all they feel, and more: 30
Unawed by precepts human or divine,
Like birds and beasts, promiscuously they join;
Nor know to make the present blessing last,
To hope the future, or esteem the past;
But vainly boast the joys they never tried,
And find divulged the secrets they would hide.
The married man may bear his yoke with ease,
Secure at once himself and Heaven to please;
And pass his inoffensive hours away,

35

40

In bliss all night, and innocence all day : Though Fortune change, his constant spouse

remains,

Augments his joys, or mitigates his pains.

But what so pure, which envious tongues will spare?

Some wicked wits have libelled all the fair.

With matchless impudence they style a wife, 45 The dear-bought curse, and lawful plague of life;

A bosom serpent, a domestic evil,

A night invasion, and a mid-day devil.

50

Let not the wise these slanderous words regard,
But curse the bones of every lying bard.
All other goods by Fortune's hand are given,
A wife is the peculiar gift of Heaven.
Vain Fortune's favours, never at a stay,
Like empty shadows, pass, and glide away;
One solid comfort, our eternal wife,
Abundantly supplies us all our life :
This blessing lasts, if those who try, say true,
As long as heart can wish—and longer too.

55.

60

Our grandsire Adam, ere of Eve possessed, Alone, and even in Paradise unblessed, With mournful looks the blissful scenes surveyed,

And wandered in the solitary shade.

The Maker saw, took pity, and bestowed
Woman, the last, the best reserved of God.
A wife! ah gentle deities, can he

65

That has a wife e'er feel adversity?
Would men but follow what the sex advise,
All things would prosper, all the world grow
wise.

70

'Twas by Rebecca's aid that Jacob won His father's blessing from an elder son: Abusive Nabal owed his forfeit life To the wise conduct of a prudent wife: Heroic Judith, as old Hebrews show, Preserved the Jews, and slew the Assyrian foe:

At Hester's suit, the persecuting sword

75

Was sheathed, and Israel lived to bless the Lord.

These weighty motives, January the sage Maturely pondered in his riper age;

And charmed with virtuous joys, and sober life, Would try that Christian comfort called a

wife.

80

His friends were summoned on a point so nice,
To pass their judgment, and to give advice;
But fixed before, and well resolved was he,
(As men that ask advice are wont to be).

"My friends," he cried, (and cast a mournful look

85 Around the room, and sighed before he spoke), "Beneath the weight of threescore years I bend, And, worn with cares, am hastening to my end; How I have lived, alas! you know too well, In worldly follies, which I blush to tell; But gracious Heaven has oped my eyes at last, With due regret I view my vices past, And, as the precept of the church decrees, Will take a wife, and live in holy ease.

90

But since by counsel all things should be

done,

And many heads are wiser still than one, Choose you for me, who best shall be content When my desire's approved by your consent.

95

"One caution yet is needful to be told, To guide your choice; this wife must not be

100

old: There goes a saying, and 'twas shrewdly said, 'Old fish at table, but young flesh in bed.' My soul abhors the tasteless, dry embrace, Of a stale virgin with a winter face :

In that cold season Love but treats his guest 105 With bean-straw, and tough forage at the best.

No crafty widows shall approach my bed;
Those are too wise for bachelors to wed.
As subtle clerks by many schools are made,
Twice married dames are mistresses o' th'
trade:

IIO

But young and tender virgins, ruled with ease, We form like wax, and mould them as we please.

"Conceive me, sirs, nor take my sense amiss; 'Tis what concerns my soul's eternal bliss; Since if I found no pleasure in my spouse, 115 As flesh is frail, and who (God help me) knows?

Then should I live in lewd adultery,

And sink downright to Satan when I die.
Or were I cursed with an unfruitful bed,
The righteous end were lost for which I wed; 120
To raise up seed to bless the powers above,
And not for pleasure only, or for love.
Think not I dote; 'tis time to take a wife,
When vigorous blood forbids a chaster life:
Those that are blessed with store of grace

divine,

125

May live like saints, by Heaven's consent and mine.

"And since I speak of wedlock, let me say, (As, thank my stars, in modest truth I may), My limbs are active, still I'm sound at heart, And a new vigour springs in every part. Think not my virtue lost, though time has

shed

130

These reverend honours on my hoary head: Thus trees are crowned with blossoms white as

snow,

The vital sap then rising from below.

Old as I am, my lusty limbs appear

135

Like winter greens, that flourish all the year.