Chapter IX: Introduction (7)

But all these flour'shing hiews, with which I die Thy virgin paper, now are vain as I: For 'bove the poets Heav'n th' art taught to shine And move, as in thy proper crystalline; Whence that mole-hill Parnassus thou dost view, And us small ants there dabbling in its dew; Whence thy seraphic soul such hymns doth play, As those to which first danced the first day, Where with a thorn from the world-ransoming wreath Thou stung, dost antiphons and anthems breathe; Where with an Angels quil dip'd i' th' Lambs blood, Thou sing'st our Pelicans all-saving flood, And bath'st thy thoughts in ever-living streams, Rench'd<91.8> from earth's tainted, fat and heavy steams. There move translated youth inroll'd i' th' quire, That only doth with wholy lays inspire; To whom his burning coach Eliah sent, And th' royal prophet-priest his harp hath lent; Which thou dost tune in consort unto those Clap wings for ever at each hallow'd close: Whilst we, now weak and fainting in our praise, Sick echo ore thy Halleluiahs.

<91.1> Revett has some verses to the memory of Lovelace, which will be found among the Elegies at the end of the volume. The present lines were apparently written for a projected edition of Revett's poems, which, for some unknown reason, was never published. Revett has also verses prefixed to THE ROYAL GAME OF CHESSE PLAY, 1656; to AYRES AND DIALOGUES, by John Gamble, 1656; and to Hall's translation of the COMMENT OF HIEROCLES UPON THE GOLDEN VERSES OF PYTHAGORAS, 1657.

<91.2> Original has COURSE.

<91.3> This is only one instance among many which might be cited from LUCASTA of the employment of an intransitive verb in a transitive signification.

<91.4> i.e. THAT BORE HIM.

<91.5> i.e. THAT BUD'ST.

<91.6> Orig. has THOU.

<91.7> This word, now employed only in a special sense, was formerly a very common and favourite metaphor. Thus Lord Westmoreland, in his OTIA SACRA, 1648, p. 19, says:--

"When all the vertue we can here put on
Is but refined imperfection,
Corruption calcined--"

See also p. 137 of the same volume.

<91.8> Rinsed.

ON THE BEST, LAST, AND ONLY REMAINING COMEDY
OF MR. FLETCHER.

THE WILD GOOSE CHASE.<92.1>

I'm un-ore-clowded, too! free from the mist! The blind and late Heaven's-eyes great Occulist, Obscured with the false fires of his sceme, Not half those souls are lightned by this theme.

Unhappy murmurers, that still repine (After th' Eclipse our Sun doth brighter shine), Recant your false grief, and your true joys know; Your blisse is endlesse, as you fear'd your woe! What fort'nate flood is this! what storm of wit! Oh, who would live, and not ore-whelm'd in it? No more a fatal Deluge shall be hurl'd: This inundation hath sav'd the world. Once more the mighty Fletcher doth arise, Roab'd in a vest studded with stars and eyes Of all his former glories; his last worth Imbroiderd with what yet light ere brought forth. See! in this glad farewel he doth appear Stuck with the Constellations of his Sphere, Fearing we numb'd fear'd no flagration, Hath curl'd all his fires in this one ONE: Which (as they guard his hallowed chast urn) The dull aproaching hereticks do burn.

Fletcher at his adieu carouses thus To the luxurious ingenious, As Cleopatra did of old out-vie, Th' un-numb'red dishes of her Anthony, When (he at th' empty board a wonderer) Smiling she<92.2> calls for pearl and vinegar, First pledges him in's BREATH, then at one draught Swallows THREE KINGDOMS of To HIS BEST THOUGHT.

Hear, oh ye valiant writers, and subscribe; (His force set by) y'are conquer'd by this bribe. Though you hold out your selves, he doth commit In this a sacred treason in your wit; Although in poems desperately stout, Give up: this overture must buy you out.

Thus with some prodigal us'rer 't doth fare, That keeps his gold still vayl'd, his steel-breast bare; That doth exceed his coffers all but's eye, And his eyes' idol the wing'd Deity: That cannot lock his mines with half the art As some rich beauty doth his wretched heart; Wild at his real poverty, and so wise To win her, turns himself into a prise. First startles her with th' emerald Mad-Lover<92.3> The ruby Arcas,<92.4> least she should recover Her dazled thought, a Diamond he throws, Splendid in all the bright Aspatia's woes;<92.5> Then to sum up the abstract of his store, He flings a rope of Pearl of forty<92.6> more. Ah, see! the stagg'ring virtue faints! which he Beholding, darts his Wealths Epitome;<92.7> And now, to consummate her wished fall, Shows this one Carbuncle, that darkens all.

<92.1> "THE WILD-GOOSE CHASE. A Comedie: As it hath been acted with singular applause at the BLACKFRIERS. Being the Noble, Last, and Onely REMAINES of those Incomparable DRAMATISTS, Francis Beaumont and John Fletcher, Gent. London: Printed for Humphrey Moseley, 1652," folio.

<92.2> Singer reads HE, but original SHE, as above. Of course Cleopatra is meant.

<92.3> Fletcher's MAD LOVER.

<92.4> Fletcher's FAITHFUL SHEPHERDESS.

<92.5> THE MAID'S TRAGEDY, by Beaumont and Fletcher, 1619.

<92.6> Should we not read FIFTY, and understand the collected edition of Beaumont and Fletcher's Works in 1647?

<92.7> The WILD-GOOSE CHASE, which is also apparently the CARBUNCLE mentioned two lines lower down.

TO
MY NOBLE KINSMAN THOMAS STANLEY,<93.1> ESQ.
ON HIS LYRICK POEMS COMPOSED
BY MR. JOHN GAMBLE.<93.2>

I. What means this stately tablature, The ballance of thy streins, Which seems, in stead of sifting pure, T' extend and rack thy veins? Thy Odes first their own harmony did break: For singing, troth, is but in tune to speak.

II. Nor trus<93.3> thy golden feet and wings. It may<93.4> be thought false melody<93.5> T' ascend to heav'n by silver strings; This is Urania's heraldry. Thy royal poem now we may extol, As<93.6> truly Luna blazon'd upon Sol.

III. As when Amphion first did call Each listning stone from's den; And with his<93.7> lute did form the<93.8> wall, But with his words the men; So in your twisted numbers now you thus Not only stocks perswade, but ravish us.

IV. Thus do your ayrs eccho ore The notes and anthems of the sphaeres, And their whole consort back restore, As if earth too would blesse Heav'ns ears; But yet the spoaks, by which they scal'd so high, Gamble hath wisely laid of UT RE MI.<<AN.5>>

<93.1> Thomas Stanley, Esq., author of the HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY, and an elegant poet and translator, v. SUPRA.

Lovelace wrote these lines for AYRES AND DIALOGUES. TO BE SUNG TO THE THEORBO, LUTE, OR BASE-VIOLL: By John Gamble, London, Printed by William Godbid for the Author, 1656. folio. [The words are by Stanley.]

<93.2> "Wood, in his account of this person, vol. i. col. 285, conjectures that many of the songs in the above collection (Gamble's AYRES, &c. 1659), were written by the learned Thomas Stanley, Esq., author of the HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY, and seemingly with good reason, for they resemble, in the conciseness and elegant turn of them, those poems of his printed in 1651, containing translations from Anacreon, Bion, Moschus and others."--Hawkins.

<93.3> LUCASTA and AYRES AND DIALOGUES read THUS, which leaves no meaning in this passage.

<93.4> Old editions have MAY IT.

<93.5> Harmonie--AYRES AND DIALOGUES, &c.

<93.6> Original reads AND, and so also the AYRES AND DIALOGUES.

<93.7> Old editions have THE.

<93.8> So the AYRES AND DIALOGUES. LUCASTA has HIS.

<<AN.5>> P. 249. UT RE MI.

See LOVE'S LABOUR'S LOST, 1598, iv. 3:--
"Hol. Old Mantuan! Old Mantuan! who understandeth thee not,
loves thee not--UT, RE, SOL, la, mi, FA"----

And Singer's SHAKESPEARE, ed. 1856, ii. 257, NOTE 15.

TO DR. F. B[EALE]; ON HIS BOOK OF CHESSE.<94.1>

Sir, how unravell'd is the golden fleece: Men, that could only fool at FOX AND GEESE, Are new-made polititians<94.2> by thy book, And both can judge and conquer with a look. The hidden fate<94.3> of princes you unfold; Court, clergy, commons, by your law control'd. Strange, serious wantoning all that they Bluster'd and clutter'd for, you PLAY.

<94.1> These lines, among the last which Lovelace ever wrote, were originally prefixed to "The Royal Game of Chesse-Play. Sometimes the Recreation of the late King, with many of the Nobility. Illustrated with almost an hundred gambetts. Being the Study of Biochino, the famous Italian [Published by Francis Beale.]" Lond. 1656, 12mo.

<94.2> The text of 1656 has, erroneously no doubt, POLITIANS.

<94.3> Text of 1656 has FATES.

TO THE GENIUS OF MR. JOHN HALL.
ON HIS EXACT TRANSLATION OF HIEROCLES
HIS COMMENT UPON THE GOLDEN VERSES OF PYTHAGORAS.<95.1>

Tis not from cheap thanks thinly to repay Th' immortal grove of thy fair-order'd bay Thou planted'st round my humble fane,<95.2> that I Stick on thy hearse this sprig of Elegie: Nor that your soul so fast was link'd in me, That now I've both, since't has forsaken thee: That thus I stand a Swisse before thy gate, And dare, for such another, time and fate. Alas! our faiths made different essays, Our Minds and Merits brake two several ways; Justice commands I wake thy learned dust, And truth, in whom all causes center must.

Behold! when but a youth, thou fierce didst whip Upright the crooked age, and gilt vice strip; A senator praetext,<95.3> that knew'st to sway<95.4> The fasces, yet under the ferula; Rank'd with the sage, ere blossome did thy chin, Sleeked without, and hair all ore within, Who in the school could'st argue as in schools: Thy lessons were ev'n academie rules. So that fair Cam saw thee matriculate, At once a tyro and a graduate.

At nineteen, what ESSAYES<95.5> have we beheld! That well might have the book of Dogmas swell'd; Tough Paradoxes, such as Tully's, thou Didst heat thee with, when snowy was thy brow, When thy undown'd face mov'd the Nine to shake, And of the Muses did a decad make. What shall I say? by what allusion bold? NONE BUT THE SUN WAS ERE SO YOUNG AND OLD.

Young reverend shade, ascend awhile! whilst we Now celebrate this posthume victorie, This victory, that doth contract in death Ev'n all the pow'rs and labours of thy breath. Like the Judean Hero,<95.6> in thy fall Thou pull'st the house of learning on us all. And as that soldier conquest doubted not, Who but one splinter had of Castriot,<95.7> But would assault ev'n death so strongly charmd, And naked oppose rocks, with his<95.8> bone<95.9> arm'd; So we, secure in this fair relique, stand<95.10> The slings and darts shot by each profane hand. These soveraign leaves thou left'st us are become Sear clothes against all Times infection.

Sacred Hierocles, whose heav'nly thought First acted ore this comment, ere it wrote,<95.11> Thou hast so spirited, elixir'd, we Conceive there is a noble alchymie, That's turning of this gold to something more Pretious than gold, we never knew before. Who now shall doubt the metempsychosis Of the great Author, that shall peruse this? Let others dream thy shadow wandering strays In th' Elizian mazes hid with bays; Or that, snatcht up in th' upper region, 'Tis kindled there a constellation; I have inform'd me, and declare with ease THY SOUL IS FLED INTO HIEROCLES.

<95.1> These lines were originally prefixed to "Hierocles upon the Golden Verses of Pythagoras. Teaching a Virtuous and Worthy Life. Translated by John Hall, of Durham, Esquire. OPUS POSTHUMUM." Lond. 1657, 12mo. (The copy among the King's pamphlets in the British Museum appears to have been purchased on the 8th Sept. 1656.) The variations between the texts of 1656 and 1659 are chiefly literal, but a careful collation has enabled me to rectify one or two errors of the press in LUCASTA.

<95.2> Lovelace refers to the lines which Hall wrote in commendation of LUCASTA, 1649.

<95.3> The HORAE VACIVAE of Hall, 1646, 16mo., are here meant.

<95.4> See Beloe's translation of Aulus Gellius, ii. 86.

<95.5> HORAE VACIVAE, or Essays and some Occasional Considerations. Lond. 1646, 16mo., with a portrait of Hall by William Marshall, au. aet. 19.

<95.6> Sampson.

<95.7> Scanderbeg, whose real name was George Castriot. CASTRIOT is also one of the DRAMATIS PERSONAE in Fletcher'<s> KNIGHT OF MALTA.

<95.8> So the text of 165 , .e. <sic> of the lines as originally written by the poet. Lucasta, <1>659, erroneously has THIS.

<95.9> "And he found a new jawbone of an ass, and put forth his hand and took it, and slew a thousand men therewith."--JUDGES, xv. 15.

<95.10> i.e. withstand.

<95.11> So the text of 1656. LUCASTA has WROUGHT.

TRANSLATIONES / TRANSLATIONS.

<-------------------->

SANAZARI HEXASTICON.

Viderat Adriacis quondam Neptunus in undis
Stare urbem et toto ponere Jura mari:
Nunc mihi Tarpeias<96.1> quantumvis, Jupiter, Arces
Objice et illa mihi moenia Martis, ait,
Seu pelago Tibrim praefers, urbem aspice utramque,
Illam homines dices, hanc posuisse deos.

SANAZAR'S HEXASTICK.

In Adriatick waves when Neptune saw, The city stand, and give the seas a law: Now i' th' Tarpeian tow'rs Jove rival me, And Mars his walls impregnable, said he; Let seas to Tyber yield; view both their ods!<96.2> You'l grant that built by men, but this by gods.

<96.1> Rome.

<96.2> Points of difference or contrast. For LET SEAS, &c., we ought to read SHALL SEAS, &c.

<-------------------->

IN VIRGILIUM. PENTADII.

Pastor, arator, eques; pavi, colui, superavi; Capras, rus, hostes; fronde, ligone, manu.

IN ENGLISH.

A swain, hind, knight: I fed, till'd, did command: Goats, fields, my foes: with leaves, a spade, my hand.

<-------------------->

DE SCAEVOLA.

Lictorem pro rege necans nunc mutius ultro
Sacrifico propriam concremat igne manum:
Miratur Porsenna virum, paenamque relaxans
Maxima cum obscessis faedera a victor init,
Plus flammis patriae confert quam fortibus armis,
Una domans bellum funere dextra sua.

ENGLISHED.

The hand, by which no king but serjeant<97.1> dies, Mutius in fire doth freely sacrifice; The prince admires the Hero, quits his pains, And Victor from the seige peace entertains; Rome's more oblig'd to flames than arms or pow'r, When one burnt hand shall the whole war devour.<97.2>

<97.1> A somewhat imperfect rendering of LICTOR.

<97.2> The reader will easily judge for himself of the valueless character of these translations; but it is only just to Lovelace to suggest that they were probably academic exercises only, and at the same time to submit that they are not much worse than Marlowe's translation of Ovid, and many other versions of the Classics then current.

<-------------------->

DE CATONE.

Invictus victis in partibus omnia Caesar
Vincere qui potuit, te, Cato, non potuit.

OF CATO.

The world orecome, victorious Caesar, he That conquer'd all, great Cato, could not thee.

<-------------------->

ITEM.

Ictu non potuit primo Cato solvere vitam;
Defecit tanto vulnere victa manus:
Altius inseruit digitos, qua spiritus ingens
Exiret, magnum dextera fecit iter.
Opposuit fortuna moram, involvitque, Catonis
Scires ut ferro plus valuisse manum.

ANOTHER.

One stabbe could not fierce Cato's<98.1> life unty; Onely his hand of all that wound did dy. Deeper his fingers tear to make a way Open, through which his mighty soul might stray. Fortune made this delay to let us know, That Cato's hand more then his sword could do.

<98.1> Cato of Utica.

<-------------------->

ITEM.

Jussa manus sacri pectus violare Catonis
Haesit, et inceptum victa reliquit opus.
Ille ait, infesto contra sua vulnera vultu:
Estne aliquid, magnus quod Cato non potuit?

ANOTHER.

The hand of sacred Cato, bad to tear His breast, did start, and the made wound forbear; Then to the gash he said with angry brow: And is there ought great Cato cannot do?

<-------------------->

ITEM.

Dextera, quid dubitas? durum est jugulare Catonem;
Sed modo liber erit: jam puto non dubitas!
Fas non est vivo quenquam servire Catone,
Nedum ipsum vincit nunc Cato si moritur.

ANOTHER.

What doubt'st thou, hand? sad Cato 'tis to kill; But he'l be free: sure, hand, thou doubt'st not still! Cato alive, 'tis just all men be free: Nor conquers he himself, now if he die.

<-------------------->

PENTADII.

Non est, fulleris, haec beata non est Quod vos creditis esse, vita non est: Fulgentes manibus videre gemmas Et testudineo jacere lecto, Aut pluma latus abdidisse molli, Aut auro bibere, aut cubare cocco; Regales dapibus gravare mensas, Et quicquid Lybico secatur arvo; Non una positum tenere cella: Sed nullos trepidum timere casus, Nec vano populi favore tangi, Et stricto nihil aestuare ferro: Hoc quisquis poterit, licebit illi Fortunam moveat loco superbus.

ENGLISHED.

It is not, y' are deceav'd, it is not blisse What you conceave a happy living is: To have your hands with rubies bright to glow, Then on your tortoise-bed your body throw, And sink your self in down, to drink in gold, And have your looser self in purple roll'd; With royal fare to make the tables groan, Or else with what from Lybick fields is mown, Nor in one vault hoard all your magazine, But at no cowards fate t' have frighted bin; Nor with the peoples breath to be swol'n great, Nor at a drawn stiletto basely swear. He that dares this, nothing to him's unfit, But proud o' th' top of fortunes wheel may sit.

<-------------------->

AD M. T. CICERONEM.
CATUL EP. 50.

Disertissime Romuli nepotum, Quot sunt, quotque fuere, Marce Tulli, Quotque post alios erunt in annos, Gratias tibi maximas Catullus Agit, pessimus omnium poeta: Tanto pessimus omnium poeta, Quanto tu optimus omnium patronus.

TO MARCUS T. CICERO.
IN AN ENGLISH PENTASTICK.

Tully to thee, Rome's eloquent sole heir, The best of all that are, shall be, and were, I the worst poet send my best thanks and pray'r: Ev'n by how much the worst of poets I, By so much you the best of patrones be.

<-------------------->

AD JUVENCIUM. CAT. EP. 49.

Mellitos oculos tuos, Juvenci, Si quis me sinat usque basiare, Usque ad millia basiem trecenta; Nec unquam videat satur futurus: Non si densior aridis aristis, Sit nostrae seges osculationis.

TO JUVENCIUS.

Juvencius, thy fair sweet eyes If to my fill that I may kisse, Three hundred thousand times I'de kisse, Nor future age should cloy this blisse; No, not if thicker than ripe ears The harvest of our kisses bears.

<-------------------->

DE PUERO ET PRAECONE. CATUL.

Cum puero bello praeconem qui videt esse,
Quid credat, nisi se vendere discupere?

CATUL.

With a fair boy a cryer we behold, What should we think, but he would not be sold?<99.1>

<99.1> Lovelace has made nonsense of this passage. We ought to read rather, "but that he would be sold!"

<-------------------->

PORTII LICINII.

Si Phoebi soror es, mando tibi, Delia, causam,
Scilicet, ut fratri quae peto verba feras:
Marmore Sicanio struxi tibi, Delphice, templum,
Et levibus calamis candida verba dedi.
Nunc, si nos audis, atque es divinus Apollo,
Dic mihi, qui nummos non habet unde petat.

ENGLISHED.

If you are Phoebus sister, Delia, pray, This my request unto the Sun convay: O Delphick god, I built thy marble fane, And sung thy praises with a gentle cane,<100.1> Now, if thou art divine Apollo, tell, Where he, whose purse is empty, may go fill.

<100.1> Reed or pipe.

<-------------------->

SENECAE EX CLEANTHE.

Duc me, Parens celsique Dominator poli, Quocunque placuit, nulla parendi mora est; Adsum impiger; fac nolle, comitabor gemens, Malusque patiar facere, quod licuit bono. Ducunt volentem Fata, nolentem trahunt.

ENGLISHED.

Parent and Prince of Heav'n, O lead, I pray, Where ere you please, I follow and obey. Active I go, sighing, if you gainsay, And suffer bad what to the good was law. Fates lead the willing, but unwilling draw.

<-------------------->

QUINTI CATULI.

Constiteram exorientem Auroram forte salutans,
Cum subito a laeva Roscius exoritur.
Pace mihi liceat, coelestes, dicere vestra.
Mortalis visu pulchrior esse deo.
Blanditur puero satyrus vultuque manuque;
Nolenti similis retrahit ora puer:
Quem non commoveat, quamvis de marmore? fundit
Pene preces satyrus, pene puer lachrymas.

ENGLISHED.

As once I bad good morning to the day, O' th' sudden Roscius breaks in a bright ray: Gods with your favour, I've presum'd to see A mortal fairer then a deitie. With looks and hands a satyre courts the boy, Who draws back his unwilling cheek as coy. Although of marble hewn, whom move not they? The boy ev'n seems to weep, the satyre, pray.

<-------------------->

FLORIDI. DE EBRIOSO.

Phoebus me in somnis vetuit potare Lyaeum,
Pareo praeceptis: tunc bibo cum vigilo.

OF A DRUNKARD.

Phoebus asleep forbad me wine to take: I yield; and now am only drunk awake.

<-------------------->

DE ASINO QUI DENTIBUS AENEIDEM CONSUMPSIT.

Carminis iliaci libros consumpsit asellus;
Hoc fatum Troiae est: aut equus, aut asinus.

THE ASSE EATING THE AENEIDS.

A wretched asse the Aeneids did destroy: A horse or asse is still the fate of Troy.

<-------------------->

AUSONIUS LIB. EPIG.

Trinarii quodam currentem in littoris ora
Ante canes leporem caeruleus rapuit;
At<101.1> lepus: in me omnis terrae pelagique rapina est,
Forsitan et coeli, si canis astra tenet.

ENGLISHED.

On the Sicilian strand a hare well wrought Before the hounds was by a dog-fish caught; Quoth she: all rape of sea and earth's on me, Perhaps of heav'n, if there a dog-star be.

<101.1> Qu. a contraction of AIT.

<-------------------->

AUSONIUS LIB. EPIG.

Polla, potenta, tribon, baculus, scyphus: arcta supellex
Haec fuerant Cinici, sed putat hanc nimiam:
Namque cavis manibus cernens potare bubulcum,
Cur, scyphe, te, dixit, gusto supervacuum?

ENGLISHED.

The Cynicks narrow houshould stuffe of crutch, A stool and dish, was lumber thought too much: For whilst a hind drinks out on's palms o' th' strand He flings his dish: cries: I've one in my hand!

<-------------------->

AUSONIUS LIB. I. EPIG.

Thesauro invento qui limina mortis inibat,
Liquit ovans laqueum, quo periturus erat;
At qui, quod terrae abdiderat, non repperit aurum,
Quem laqueum invenit nexuit, et periit.

ENGLISHED.

A treasure found one, entring at death's gate, Triumphing leaves that cord, was meant his fate; But he the gold missing, which he did hide, The halter which he found he knit: so dy'd.

<-------------------->

A LA CHABOT.

Object adorable et charmant! Mes souspirs et mes pleurs tesmoignent mon torment; Mais mon respect<102.1> m'empeche de parler. Ah! que peine dissimuler! Et que je souffre de martyre, D'aimer et de n'oser le dire!

TO THE SAME AYRE IN ENGLISH, THUS,

Object adorable of charms! My sighs and tears may testifie my harms; But my respect forbids me to reveal. Ah, what a pain 'tis to conceal! And how I suffer worse then hell, To love, and not to dare to tell!

<102.1> Original has MES RESPECTS.

<-------------------->

THEOPHILE BEING DENY'D HIS ADDRESSES TO KING JAMES, TURNED THE AFFRONT TO HIS OWN GLORY IN THIS EPIGRAM.

Si Jaques, le Roy du scavior,
Ne trouue bon de me voir,
Voila la cause infallible!
Car, ravy de mon escrit,
Il creut, que j'estois tout esprit
Et par consequent invisible.

LINEALLY TRANSLATED OUT OF THE FRENCH.

If James, the king of wit,
To see me thought not fit,
Sure this the cause hath been,
That, ravish'd with my merit,
He thought I was all spirit,
And so not to be seen.

<-------------------->

AUSONIUS.

Vane, quid affectas faciem mihi ponere, pictor,
Ignotamque oculis solicitare manu?
Aeris et venti sum filia, mater inanis
Indicii, vocemque sine mente gero.
Auribus in vestris habito penetrabilis echo;
Si mihi vis similem pingere, pinge sonos.

IN ENGLISH.

Vain painter, why dost strive my face to draw With busy hands? a goddesse eyes nere saw. Daughter of air and wind, I do rejoyce In empty shouts; (without a mind) a voice. Within your ears shrill echo I rebound, And, if you'l paint me like, then paint a sound.

<-------------------->

AUSON[IUS].

Toxica zelotypo dedit uxor maecha marito, Nec satis ad mortem credidit esse datum; Miscuit argenti lethalia pondera vivi, Ut celeret certam vis geminata necem. Ergo, inter sese dum noxia pocula certant, Cessit lethalis noxa saltuiferi. Protinus in vacuos alvi petiere recessus, Lubrica dejectis quae via nota cibis. Quam pia cura Deum! prodest crudelior uxor. Sic, cum fata volunt, bina venena juvant.

IN ENGLISH.

Her jealous husband an adultresse gave Cold poysons, to[o] weak she thought for's grave; A fatal dose of quicksilver then she Mingles to hast his double destinie; Now whilst within themselves they are at strife, The deadly potion yields to that of life, And straight from th' hollow stomack both retreat To th' slippery pipes known to digested meat. Strange care o' th' gods the murth'resse doth avail! So, when fates please, ev'n double poysons heal.

<-------------------->

AUSONIUS EPIG.

Emptis quod libris tibi bibliotheca referta est,
Doctum et grammaticum te, philomuse, putas.
Quinetiam cytharas, chordas et barbita conde:
Mercator hodie, cras citharoedus, eris.

IN ENGLISH.

Because with bought books, sir, your study's fraught, A learned grammarian you would fain be thought; Nay then, buy lutes and strings; so you may play The merchant now, the fidler, the next day.

<-------------------->

AVIENI<103.1> V. C. AD AMICOS.

Rure morans, quid agam, respondi, pauca rogatus: Mane, deum exoro famulos, post arvaque viso, Partitusque meis justos indico labores; Inde lego, Phoebumque cio, Musamque lacesso; Tunc oleo corpus fingo, mollique palaestra Stringo libens animo, gaudensque ac foenore liber Prandeo, poto, cano, ludo, lavo, caeno, quiesco.

ENGLISHED.

Ask'd in the country what I did, I said: I view my men and meads, first having pray'd; Then each of mine hath his just task outlay'd; I read, Apollo court, I rouse my Muse; Then I anoynt me, and stript willing loose My self on a soft plat, from us'ry blest; I dine, drink, sing, play, bath, I sup, I rest.

<103.1> Rufus Festus Avienus, the Latin poet.

<-------------------->

AD FABULLUM. CATUL. LIB. I. EP. 13.

Caenabis bene, mi Fabulle, apud me Paucis, si dii tibi favent, diebus; Si tecum attuleris bonam atque magnam Caenam, non sine candida puella, Et vino, et sale, et omnibus cachinnis. Haec si, inquam, attuleris, Fabulle noster, Caenabis bene: nam tui Catulli Plenus sacculus est aranearum. Sed, contra, accipies meros amores, Seu quod suavius elegantiusve est: Nam unguentum dabo, quod meae puellae Donarunt Veneres Cupidinesque; Quod tu cum olfacies, deos rogabis, Totum te faciant, Fabulle, nasum.

ENGLISHED.

Fabullus, I will treat you handsomely Shortly, if the kind gods will favour thee. If thou dost bring with thee a del'cate messe, An olio or so, a pretty lass, Brisk wine, sharp tales, all sorts of drollery, These if thou bringst (I say) along with thee, You shall feed highly, friend: for, know, the ebbs Of my lank purse are full of spiders webs; But then again you shall receive clear love, Or what more grateful or more sweet may prove: For with an ointment I will favour thee My Venus's and Cupids gave to me, Of which once smelt, the gods thou wilt implore, Fabullus, that they'd make thee nose all ore.

<-------------------->

MART. LIB. I. EPI. 14.

Casta suo gladium cum traderet Arria Paeto,
Quem de visceribus traxerat ipsa suis;
Si qua fides, vulnus quod feci non dolet, inquit:
Sed quod tu facies, hoc mihi, Paete, dolet.

ENGLISHED.

When brave chast Arria to her Poetus gave The sword from her own breast did bleeding wave: If there be faith, this wound smarts not, said she; But what you'l make, ah, that will murder me.

<-------------------->

MART. EPI. XLIII. LIB. I.

Conjugis audisset fatum cum Portia Bruti,
Et substracta sibi quaereret arma dolor,
Nondum scitis, ait, mortem non posse negari,
Credideram satis hoc vos docuisse patrem.
Dixit, et ardentes avido bibit ore favillas.
I nunc, et ferrum turba molesta nega.

IN ENGLISH.

When Portia her dear lord's sad fate did hear, And noble grief sought arms were hid from her: Know you not yet no hinderance of death is, Cato, I thought, enough had taught you this, So said, her thirsty lips drink flaming coales: Go now, deny me steel, officious fools!

<-------------------->

MART. EP. XV. LIB. 6.

Dum Phaetontea formica vagatur in umbra,
Implicuit tenuem succina gutta feram,
Dignum tantorum pretium tulit illa laborum:
Credibile est ipsam sic voluisse mori.

ENGLISHED.

Whilst in an amber-shade the ant doth feast, A gummy drop ensnares the small wild-beast, A full reward of all her toyls hath she; 'Tis to be thought she would her self so die.

<-------------------->

MAR. LIB. IV. EP. 33.

Et latet et lucet, Phaetontide condita gutta
Ut videatur apis nectare clausa suo.
Sic modo, quae fuerat vita contempta manente,
Funeribus facta est jam preciosa suis.

IN ENGLISH.

Both lurks and shines, hid in an amber tear, The bee, in her own nectar prisoner; So she, who in her life time was contemn'd, Ev'n in her very funerals is gemm'd.

<-------------------->

MART. LIB. VIII. EP. 19.

Pauper videri Cinna vult, et est pauper.

IN ENGLISH.

Cinna seems<104.1> poor in show,
And he is so.

<104.1> A very inadequate translation of VIDERI VULT.

<-------------------->

OUT OF THE ANTHOLOGIE.<105.1>

<<Esbese ton lychnon moros phyllon apo pollon
Daknomenos, lexas ouk eti me blepete.>>

IN AN ENGLISH DISTICK.

A fool, much bit by fleas, put out the light; You shall not see me now (quoth he); good night.

<105.1> This is from Lucian.

<-------------------->

IN RUFUM. CATUL. EP. 64.

Noli admirari, quare tibi foemina nulla,
Rufe, velit tenerum supposuisse femur;
Non ullam rarae labefactes munere vestis,
Aut pellucidulis deliciis lapidis.
Laedit te quaedam mala fabula, qua tibi fertur
Valle sub alarum trux habitare caper.
Hunc metuunt omnes, neque mirum: nam mala valde est
Bestia, nec quicum<106.1> bela puella cubet.
Quare aut crudelem nasorum interfice pestem,
Aut admirari desine, cur fugiant.

TO RUFUS.

That no fair woman will, wonder not why, Clap (Rufus) under thine her tender thigh; Not a silk gown shall once melt one of them, Nor the delights of a transparent gemme. A scurvy story kills thee, which doth tell, That in thine armpits a fierce goat doth dwell. Him they all fear full of an ugly stench:<106.2> Nor 's 't fit he should lye with a handsome wench; Wherefore this noses cursed plague first crush, Or cease to wonder, why they fly you thus.

<106.1> An archaic form of QUOCUM.

<106.2> Original has STINCH.

<-------------------->

CATUL. EP. 71.

DE INCONSTANTIA FOEMINEI AMORIS.

Nulli se dicit mulier mea nubere velle,
Quam mihi: non, si Jupiter ipse petat;
Dicit; sed mulier cupido quod dicit amanti,
In vento et rapida scribere oportet aqua.

FEMALE INCONSTANCY.

My mistresse sayes she'll marry none but me; No, not if Jove himself a suitor be. She sayes so; but what women say to kind Lovers, we write in rapid streams and wind.

<-------------------->

AD LESBIAM, CAT. EP. 73.

Dicebas quondam, solum to nosse Catullum,
Lesbia, nec prae me velle tenere Jovem;
Dilexi tum te, non tantum ut vulgus amicam,
Sed pater ut gnatos diligit et generos.
Nunc te cognovi, quare et impensius uror,
Multo mi tamen es vilior et levior.
Qui potis est inquis, quod amantem injuria talis
Cogat amare magis, sed bene velle minus?
Odi et amo; quare id faciam, fortasse requiris;
Nescio; sed fieri sentio, et excrucior.

ENGLISHED.

That me alone you lov'd, you once did say, Nor should I to the king of gods give way. Then I lov'd thee not as a common dear, But as a father doth his children chear. Now thee I know, more bitterly I smart; Yet thou to me more light and cheaper art. What pow'r is this? that such a wrong should press Me to love more, yet wish thee well much lesse. I hate and love; would'st thou the reason know? I know not; but I burn, and feel it so.

<-------------------->

IN LESBIAM CAT. EP. 76.

Huc est mens deducta tua, mea Lesbia, culpa,
Atque ita se officio perdidit ipsa suo.
Ut jam nec bene velle queam tibi, si optima sias:
Nec desistere amare, omnia si facias.

ENGLISHED.

By thy fault is my mind brought to that pass, That it its office quite forgotten has: For be'est thou best, I cannot wish thee well, And be'est thou worst, then I must love thee still.

<-------------------->

AD QUINTIUM. CAT. EP. 83.

Quinti, si tibi vis oculos debere Catullum,
Aut aliud si quid carius est oculis,
Eripere ei noli, multo quod carius illi
Est oculis, seu quid carius est oculis.

TO QUINTIUS.

Quintius, if you'l endear Catullus eyes, Or what he dearer then his eyes doth prize, Ravish not what is dearer then his eyes, Or what he dearer then his eyes doth prize.

<-------------------->

DE QUINTIA ET LESBIA. EP. 87.

Quintia formosa est multis, mihi candida, longa,
Recta est; haec ego sic singula confiteor:
Tota illud formosa nego: nam multa venustas;
Nulla in tam magno est corpore mica salis.
Lesbia formosa est quae, cum pulcherrima tota est,
Tum omnibus una omneis surripuit veneres.

ENGLISHED.

Quintia is handsome, fair, tall, straight: all these Very particulars I grant with ease: But she all ore 's not handsome; here's her fault: In all that bulk there's not one corne of salt, Whilst Lesbia, fair and handsome too all ore, All graces and all wit from all hath bore.

<-------------------->

DE SUO IN LESBIAM AMORE. EP. 88.

Nulla potest mulier tantum se dicere amatam
Vere, quantum a me Lesbia amata mea est;
Nulla fides ullo fuit unquam faedere tanta,
Quanta in amore suo ex parte reperta mea est.

ENGLISHED.

No one can boast her self so much belov'd, Truely as Lesbia my affections prov'd; No faith was ere with such a firm knot bound, As in my love on my part I have found.

<-------------------->

AD SYLONEM. EP. 104.

Aut sodes mihi redde decem sestertia, Sylo,
Deindo esto quam vis saevus et indomitus;
Aut si te nummi delectant, desine, quaeso,
Leno esse, atque idem saevus et indomitus.

ENGLISHED.

Sylo, pray pay me my ten sesterces, Then rant and roar as much as you shall please; Or if that mony takes [you,]<107.1> pray, give ore To be a pimp, or else to rant and roar.

<107.1> Original has TAKES, but a word is wanting to complete the metre, and perhaps the poet wrote TAKES YOU, i.e. captivates you.

<-------------------->

ELEGIES

SACRED
To the Memory of the
AUTHOR:

By several of his Friends.

Collected and Published
BY
D. P. L.

NUNQUAM EGO TE VITA FRATER AMBILIOR
ADSPICIAM POSTHAC; AT CERTE SEMPER AMABO.
Catullus.

LONDON, Printed 1660.

ELEGIES.

TO THE MEMORY OF MY WORTHY FRIEND
COLL. RICHARD LOVELACE.<108.1>

To pay my love to thee, and pay it so, As honest men should what they justly owe, Were to write better of thy life, then can The assured'st pen of the most worthy man. Such was thy composition, such thy mind, Improv'd from vertue, and from vice refin'd; Thy youth an abstract of the world's best parts, Invr'd to arms and exercis'd to arts, Which, with the vigour of a man, became Thine and thy countries piramids of fame. Two glorious lights to guide our hopeful youth Into the paths of honour and of truth. These parts (so rarely met) made up in thee, What man should in his full perfection be: So sweet a temper into every sence And each affection breath'd an influence, As smooth'd them to a calme, which still withstood The ruffling passions of untamed blood, Without a wrinckle in thy face, to show Thy stable breast could a<108.2> disturbance know. In fortune humble, constant in mischance; Expert in both, and both serv'd to advance Thy name by various trialls of thy spirit, And give the testimony of thy merit. Valiant to envy of the bravest men, And learned to an undisputed pen; Good as the best in both and great, but yet No dangerous courage nor offensive wit. These ever serv'd the one for to defend, The other, nobly to advance thy friend, Under which title I have found my name Fix'd in the living chronicle of fame To times succeeding: yet I hence must go, Displeas'd I cannot celebrate thee so. But what respect, acknowledgement and love, What these together, when improv'd, improve: Call it by any name (so it express Ought like a tribute to thy worthyness, And may my bounden gratitude become) LOVELACE, I offer at thy honour'd tomb. And though thy vertues many friends have bred To love thee liveing, and lament thee dead, In characters far better couch'd then these, Mine will not blott thy fame, nor theirs encrease. 'Twas by thine own great merits rais'd so high, That, maugre time and fate, it shall not dye. Sic flevit. Charles Cotton.

<108.1> These lines may be found, with some verbal variations, in the poems of Charles Cotton, 1689, p. 481-2-3.

<108.2> This reading is adopted from Cotton's Poems, 1689, p. 482. In LUCASTA we read NO DISTURBANCE.

UPON THE POSTHUME AND PRECIOUS POEMS
OF THE NOBLY EXTRACTED GENTLEMAN MR. R. L.<109.1>

The rose and<109.2> other fragrant flowers smell best, When they are pluck'd and worn in hand or brest, So this fair flow'r of vertue, this rare bud Of wit, smells now as fresh as when he stood; And in these Posthume-Poems lets us know, He on<109.3> the banks of Helicon did grow. The beauty of his soul did correspond With his sweet out-side: nay, it went<109.4> beyond. Lovelace, the minion<109.5> of the Thespian dames, Apollo's darling, born with Enthean flames, Which in his numbers wave and shine so clear, As sparks refracted from<109.6> rich gemmes appear; Such flames that may inspire, and atoms cast, To make new poets not like him in hast.<109.7> Jam. Howell.

<109.1> These lines, originally printed as above, were included by Payne Fisher in his collection of Howell's Poems, 1663, 8vo., where they may be found at p. 126. Fisher altered the superscription in his ill-edited book to "Upon the Posthume-POEMS of Mr. Lovelace."

<109.2> WITH--Howell's Poems.

<109.3> THAT HE UPON--ibid.

<109.4> IF NOT GO BEYOND--ibid.

<109.5> Fr. MIGNON, darling.

<109.6> So in Howell's Poems. LUCASTA has IN.

<109.7> "Such sparks that with their atoms may inspire
The reader with a pure POETICK fire."
Howell's POEMS.

AN ELEGIE,

SACRED TO THE MEMORY OF MY LATE HONOURED FRIEND,
COLLONELL RICHARD LOVELACE.

Pardon (blest shade), that I thus crowd to be 'Mong those that sin unto thy memory, And that I think unvalu'd reliques spread, And am the first that pillages the dead; Since who would be thy mourner as befits, But an officious sacriledge commits. How my tears strive to do thee fairer right, And from the characters divide my sight. Untill it (dimmer) a new torrent swells, And what obscur'd it, falls my spectacles Let the luxurious floods impulsive rise, As they would not be wept, but weep the eyes, The while earth melts, and we above it lye But the weak bubbles of mortalitie; Until our griefs are drawn up by the Sun, And that (too) drop the exhalation. How in thy dust we humble now our pride, And bring thee a whole people mortifi'd! For who expects not death, now thou art gone, Shows his low folly, not religion. Can the poetick heaven still hold on The golden dance, when the first mover's gon? And the snatch'd fires (which circularly hurl'd) In their strong rapture glimmer to the world, And not stupendiously rather rise The tapers unto these solemnities? Can the chords move in tune, when thou dost dye, At once their universal harmony? But where Apollo's harp (with murmur) laid, Had to the stones a melody convey'd, They by some pebble summon'd would reply In loud results to every battery; Thus do we come unto thy marble room, To eccho from the musick of thy tombe. May we dare speak thee dead, that wouldest be In thy remove only not such as we? No wonder, the advance is from us hid; Earth could not lift thee higher then it did! And thou, that didst grow up so ever nigh, Art but now gone to immortality! So near to where thou art, thou here didst dwell, The change to thee is less perceptible. Thy but unably-comprehending clay, To what could not be circumscrib'd, gave way, And the more spacious tennant to return, Crack'd (in the two restrain'd estate) its urn. That is but left to a successive trust; The soul's first buried in his bodies dust. Thou more thy self, now thou art less confin'd, Art not concern'd in what is left behind; While we sustain the losse that thou art gone, Un-essenc'd in the separation; And he that weeps thy funerall, in one Is pious to the widdow'd nation. And under what (now) covert must I sing, Secure as if beneath a cherub's wing; When thou hast tane thy flight hence, and art nigh In place to some related hierarchie, Where a bright wreath of glories doth but set Upon thy head an equal coronet; And thou, above our humble converse gon, Canst but be reach'd by contemplation. Our lutes (as thine was touch'd) were vocall by, And thence receiv'd the soul by sympathy, That did above the threds inspiring creep, And with soft whispers broke the am'rous sleep; Which now no more (mov'd with the sweet surprise) Awake into delicious rapsodies; But with their silent mistress do comply, And fast in undisturbed slumbers lye. How from thy first ascent thou didst disperse A blushing warmth throughout the universe, While near the morns Lucasta's fires did glow, And to the earth a purer dawn did throw. We ever saw thee in the roll of fame Advancing thy already deathless name; And though it could but be above its fate, Thou would'st, however, super-errogate. Now as in Venice, when the wanton State Before a Spaniard spread their crowded plate, He made it the sage business of his eye To find the root of the wild treasury; So learn't from that exchequer but the more To rate his masters vegetable ore. Thus when the Greek and Latin muse we read, As but the<110.1> cold inscriptions of the dead, We to advantage then admired thee, Who did'st live on still with thy poesie; And in our proud enjoyments never knew The end of the unruly wealth that grew. But now we have the last dear ingots gain'd, And the free vein (however rich) is drein'd; Though what thou hast bequeathed us, no space Of this worlds span of time shall ere embrace. But as who sometimes knew not to conclude Upon the waters strange vicissitude, Did to the ocean himself commit, That it might comprehend what could not it, So we in our endeavours must out-done Be swallowed up within thy Helicon. Thou, who<110.2> art layd up in thy precious cave, And from the hollow spaces of thy grave, We still may mourn in tune, but must alone Hereafter hope to quaver out a grone; No more the chirping sonnets with shrill notes Must henceforth volley from our treble throtes; But each sad accent must be humour'd well To the deep solemn organ of thy cell. Why should some rude hand carve thy sacred stone, And there incise a cheap inscription? When we can shed the tribute of our tears So long, till the relenting marble wears; Which shall such order in their cadence keep, That they a native epitaph shall weep; Untill each letter spelt distinctly lyes, Cut by the mystick droppings of our eyes. El. Revett.<110.3>

<110.1> Original has THE BUT.

<110.2> Original has OW.

<110.3> I have already pointed out, that the author of these truly wretched lines was probably the same person, on whose MORAL AND DIVINE POEMS Lovelace has some verses in the LUCASTA. The poems of E. R. appear to be lost, which, unless they were far superior to the present specimen, cannot be regarded as a great calamity.

AN ELEGIE.

Me thinks, when kings, prophets, and poets dye, We should not bid men weep, nor ask them why, But the great loss should by instinct impair The nations, like a pestilential ayr, And in a moment men should feel the cramp Of grief, like persons poyson'd with a damp. All things in nature should their death deplore, And the sun look less lovely than before; The fixed stars should change their constant spaces, And comets cast abroad their flagrant<111.1> faces. Yet still we see princes and poets fall Without their proper pomp of funerall; Men look about, as if they nere had known The poets lawrell or the princes crown; Lovelace hath long been dead, and he<111.2> can be Oblig'd to no man for an elegie. Are you all turn'd to silence, or did he Retain the only sap of poesie, That kept all branches living? must his fall Set an eternal period upon all? So when a spring-tide doth begin to fly<111.3> From the green shoar, each neighbouring creek grows dry. But why do I so pettishly detract An age that is so perfect, so exact? In all things excellent, it is a fame Or glory to deceased Lovelace name: For he is weak in wit, who doth deprave Anothers worth to make his own seem brave; And this was not his aim: nor is it mine. I now conceive the scope of their designe, Which is with one consent to bring and burn Contributary incence on his urn, Where each mans love and fancy shall be try'd, As when great Johnson or brave Shakespear dyed. Wits must unite: for ignorance, we see, Hath got a great train of artillerie: Yet neither shall nor can it blast the fame And honour of deceased Lovelace name, Whose own LUCASTA can support his credit Amongst all such who knowingly have read it; But who that praise can by desert discusse Due to those poems that are posthumous? And if the last conceptions are the best, Those by degrees do much transcend the rest; So full, so fluent, that they richly sute With Orpheus lire, or with Anacreons lute, And he shall melt his wing, that shall aspire To reach a fancy or one accent higher. Holland and France have known his nobler parts, And found him excellent in arms and arts. To sum up all, few men of fame but know, He was TAM MARTI, QUAM MERCURIO.<111.4>

<111.1> Burning.

<111.2> Original has WE.

<111.3> A fine image!

<111.4> The motto originally employed by George Gascoigne, who, like Lovelace, wielded both the sword and the pen.

TO HIS
NOBLE FRIEND CAPT. DUDLEY LOVELACE
UPON HIS EDITION OF HIS BROTHERS POEMS.

Thy pious hand, planting fraternal bayes, Deserving is of most egregious praise; Since 'tis the organ doth to us convey From a descended sun so bright a ray. Clear spirit! how much we are bound to thee For this so great a liberalitie, The truer worth of which by much exceeds The western wealth, which such contention breeds! Like the Infusing-God, from the well-head Of poesie you have besprinkled Our brows with holy drops, the very last, Which from your Brother's happy pen were cast: Yet as the last, the best; such matchlesse skill From his divine alembick did distill. Your honour'd Brother in the Elyzian shade Will joy to know himself a laureat made By your religious care, and that his urn Doth him on earth immortal life return. Your self you have a good physician shown To his much grieved friends and to your own, In giving this elixir'd medecine, For greatest grief a soveraign anodine. Sir, from your Brother y' have convey'd us bliss; Now, since your genius so concurs with his, Let your own quill our next enjoyments frame; All must be rich, that's grac'd with Lovelace name. Symon Ognell M.D.<112.1> Coningbrens.

<112.1> This person is not mentioned in Munk's Roll of the Royal College of Physicians, 1861.

ON THE
TRULY HONOURABLE COLL. RICHARD LOVELACE,
OCCASIONED BY THE PUBLICATION OF HIS POSTHUME-POEMS.

ELEGIE.

Great son of Mars, and of Minerva too! With what oblations must we come to woo Thy sacred soul to look down from above, And see how much thy memory we love, Whose happy pen so pleased amorous ears, And, lifting bright LUCASTA to the sphears, Her in the star-bespangled orb did set Above fair Ariadnes coronet, Leaving a pattern to succeeding wits, By which to sing forth their Pythonick fits. Shall we bring tears and sighs? no, no! then we Should but bemone our selves for loosing thee, Or else thy happiness seem to deny, Or to repine at thy felicity. Then, whilst we chant out thine immortal praise, Our offerings shall be onely sprigs of bays; And if our tears will needs their brinks out-fly, We'l weep them forth into an elegy, To tell the world, how deep fates wounded wit, When Atropos the lovely Lovelace hit! How th' active fire, which cloath'd thy gen'rous mind, Consum'd the water, and the earth calcin'd Untill a stronger heat by death was given, Which sublimated thy poor soul to heaven. Thou knew'st right well to guide the warlike steed, And yet could'st court the Muses with full speed And such success, that the inspiring Nine Have fill'd their Thespian fountain so with brine. Henceforth we can expect no lyrick lay, But biting satyres through the world must stray. Bellona joyns with fair Erato too, And with the Destinies do keep adoe, Whom thus she queries: could not you awhile Reprieve his life, until another file Of poems such as these had been drawn up? The fates reply'd that thou wert taken up, A sacrifice unto the deities; Since things most perfect please their holy eyes, And that no other victim could be found With so much learning and true virtue crown'd. Since it is so, in peace for ever rest; Tis very just that God should have the best. Sym. Ognell M.D. Coningbrens.

ON MY BROTHER.

Lovelace is dead! then let the world return To its first chaos, mufled in its urn; The stars and elements together lye, Drench'd in perpetual obscurity, And the whole machine in confusion be, As immethodick as an anarchie. May the great eye of day weep out his light, Pale Cynthia leave the regiment of night, The galaxia, all in sables dight, Send forth no corruscations to our sight, The Sister-Graces and the sacred Nine, Statu'd with grief, attend upon his shrine, Whose worth, whose loss, should we but truly rate, 'Twould puzzle our arithmetic to state Th' accompt of vertu's so transcendent high, Number and value reach infinity. Did I pronounce him dead! no, no! he lives, And from his aromatique cell he gives Spice-breathed fumes, whose odoriferous scent (In zephre-gales which never can be spent) Doth spread it self abroad, and much out-vies The eastern bird in her self-sacrifice; Or Father Phoebus, who to th' world derives Such various and such multiformed lives, Took notice that brave Lovelace did inspire The universe with his Promethean fire, And snatcht him hence, before his thread was spun, En'ving that here should be another Sun. T. L.<113.1>

<113.1> Thomas Lovelace, one of the poet's brothers.

ON THE DEATH OF MY DEAR BROTHER.

EPITAPH.

Tread (reader) gently, gently ore The happy dust beneath this floor: For in this narrow vault is set An alablaster cabinet, Wherein both arts and arms were put, Like Homers Iliads in a nut, Till Death with slow and easie pace Snatcht the bright jewell from the case; And now, transform'd, he doth arise A constellation in the skies, Teaching the blinded world the way, Through night, to startle into day: And shipwrackt shades, with steady hand, He steers unto th' Elizian land. Dudley Posthumus-Lovelace.

THE END.

Comments on the preparation of the E-Text:

ANGLE BRACKETS:

Any place where angle brackets are used, i.e. < >, it is a change made during the preparation of this E-Text. The original printed book did not use this character at all.

SQUARE BRACKETS:

The square brackets, i.e. [ ] are copied from the printed book, without change.

FOOTNOTES:

For this E-Text version of the book, the footnotes have been consolidated at the end of each section of the introduction, and at the end of each poem.

Numbering of the footnotes has been changed, and each footnote is given a unique identity in the form <XX.YY>, where XX is a poem or a section of the introduction, and YY is the number of the note within that poem or section.

Some footnote markers are missing. I have inserted markers where I believe they should go. All such markers are identified by double brackets. e.g. <<9.2>>

There were 5 footnotes in an "Additional Notes" section of the book, and one footnote in the Table of Contents. These footnotes have been identified as <<AN.1>> to <<AN.5>> and <<TOC.1>>. They have been moved to the end of the appropriate sections of the E-Text, and footnote markers, identified by double angle brackets, i.e. << >> have been added. The original locations of these footnotes in the body text, however, are also indicated for information.

LATIN AND GREEK POEMS:

This E-Text contains some poems in Latin and in Greek.

The Latin poems are reproduced as they appear in the book, except that the accent marks have been deleted.

The Greek poems were originally typeset in Greek characters. For this E-Text, the Greek characters have been TRANSLITERATED into Roman characters, using a system developed for the US Library of Congress, Ref.

ALA-LC ROMANIZATION TABLES
TRANSLITERATION SCHEMES FOR NON-ROMAN SCRIPTS
Approved by the Library of Congress and the American Library
Association
Tables compiled and edited by Randall K. Barry
Network Development and MARC Standards Office
Library of Congress, Washington, 1991

Again, it was necessary to delete the accent marks, this time accents which were recommended to be placed over the roman characters. The Greek poems are set off by angle brackets.

Single Greek words embedded in roman text have also been transliterated, as described above, and are identified by double angle brackets, e.g. <<eulikrines>>

SPELLING:

I have made no spelling corrections whatsoever. In the poems, the spelling is very inconsistent, with several different versions of a word being used in different places

OTHER PROBLEMS WITH THE TEXT: