Page images
PDF
EPUB

Through all her laughing fields and verdant groves
Proclaim with joy these memorable loves,
From every annual course let one great day
To celebrated sports and floral play
Be set aside; and in the softest lays
Of thy poetic sons be solemn praise
And everlasting marks of honour paid
To the true lover and the Nut-brown Maid.

THE GARLAND.

THE pride of every grove I chose,
The violet sweet and lily fair,
The dappled pink and blushing rose,
To deck my charming Chloe's hair.

At morn the nymph vouchsafed to place Upon her brow the various wreath; The flowers less blooming than her face, The scent less fragrant than her breath,

The flowers she wore along the day,

And every nymph and shepherd said, That in her hair they look'd more gay Than glowing in their native bed.

Undress'd at evening, when she found Their odours lost, their colours past, She changed her look, and on the ground Her garland and her eyes she cast.

That eye dropp'd sense distinct and clear As any Muse's tongue could speak, When from its lid a pearly tear

Ran trickling down her beauteous cheek.

Dissembling what I knew too well,

'My love, my life,' said I,' explain This change of humour; prithee tell, That falling tear-what does it mean?'

She sigh'd, she smiled; and to the flowers Pointing, the lovely moralist said, 'See, friend, in some few fleeting hours,

See yonder what a change is made.

'Ah me! the blooming pride of May
And that of Beauty are but one;
At morn both flourish bright and gay,

Both fade at evening, pale, and gone.

'At dawn poor Stella danced and sung, The amorous youth around her bow'd; At night her fatal knell was rung;

I saw,

and kiss'd her in her shroud.

Such as she is who died to-day, Such I, alas! may be to-morrow : Go, Damon, bid thy Muse display The justice of thy Chloe's sorrow.'

PROTOGENES AND APELLES.

WHEN poets wrote and painters drew
As Nature pointed out the view,

Ere Gothic forms were known in Greece,
To spoil the well-proportion'd piece;
And in our verse ere monkish rhymes
Had jangled their fantastic chimes;
Ere on the flowery lands of Rhodes
Those knights had fix'd their dull abodes,
Who knew not much to paint or write,
Nor cared to pray, nor dared to fight;
Protogenes, historians note,

Lived there, a burgess, scot and lot;
And, as old Pliny's writings show,
Apelles did the same at Co.

Agreed these points of time and place,
Proceed we in the present case.
Piqued by Protogenes's fame,
From Co to Rhodes Apelles came,
To see a rival and a friend

Prepared to censure or commend;
Here to absolve, and there object,
As art with candour might direct.
He sails, he lands, he comes, he rings;
His servants follow with the things:
Appears the gouvernante of the house
(For such in Greece were much in use);
If young or handsome, yea or no,
Concerns not me or thee to know.

'Does squire Protogenes live here?' 'Yes, sir,' says she, with gracious air And curtsy low, but just call'd out By lords peculiarly devout,

Who came on purpose, sir, to borrow
Our Venus for the feast to-morrow,
To grace the church: 'tis Venus' day.
I hope, sir, you intend to stay
To see our Venus: 'tis the piece

The most renown'd throughout all Greece;
So like the original, they say;
But I have no great skill that way.
But, sir, at six ('tis now past three)
Dromo must make my master's tea:
At six, sir, if you please to come,
You'll find my master, sir, at home.'

Tea, says a critic, big with laughter,
Was found some twenty ages after:
Authors, before they write, should read.
'Tis very true; but we'll proceed.

'And, sir, at present would you please To leave your name?'- Fair maiden, yes. Reach me that board.' No sooner spoke But done. With one judicious stroke, On the plain ground Apelles drew A circle regularly true.

'And will you please, sweetheart,' said he,
"To show your master this from me?
By it he presently will know

How painters write their names at Co.'
He gave the panel to the maid.
Smiling and curtsying, 'Sir,' she said,
'I shall not fail to tell my master :
And, sir, for fear of all disaster,

« EelmineJätka »