« PredošláPokračovať »
CHLOE! why wish you that your years
Our ages so in date agree,
That twins do differ more than we.
There are two births: the one, when light
And we must count our life from thence;
Love then to us did new souls give,
And in these souls did plant new powers; Since when another life we live,
The breath we breathe, is his, not ours; Love makes those young, whom age doth chill, And whom he finds young, keeps young still.
Love like that angel that shall call
None too much, none too little have.
And now since you and I are such,
Tell me what's your's, and what is mine?
Do like our souls in one combine:
So by this, I as well may be
From Poems and Songs, by WILLIAM CARTWRIGHT, born 1611, died 1643. His poetry, says Campbell, in his specimens of the British Poets, may be ranked as the violet, humble but sweet of smell. Ben Johnson says of him, "My son Cartwright writes all like a man.' He was of Christ's College, Oxford. Became Proctor of the University, and Lecturer on metaphysics. He was cut off by fever, aged 32, and had the honour to be regarded by his sovereign and queen, who were in Oxford at the time of his death.
GO LOVELY ROSE.
Go lovely rose!
Tell her that wastes her time, and me,
When I resemble her to thee,
How sweet and fair she seems to be.
Tell her that's young,
In deserts, where no men abide,
Small is the worth
Of beauty from the light retir'd;
Suffer herself to be desir'd,
And not blush so to be admir'd.
Then die! that she
The common fate of all things rare
How small a part of time they share,
The author of this beautiful lyric was EDMUND WALLER, born 1605, died 1687. His poetical pieces are easy, smooth, and generally elegant; even the gruff and irascible Ritson esteems him the best song writer, as well as the best poet, of Charles I.'s time.
IN COMMENDATION OF MUSIC.
WHEN whispering strains do softly steal
Our pulses beat, and bear a part:
The soul consists of harmony.
When unto heavenly joys we feign,
Whate'er the soul affecteth most;
Whose lays we think, make stars to wink:
O lull me, lull me, charming air,
Soft, like a spirit are thy feet;
The above Sonnet is the composition of WILLIAM STRODE, or STROUDE, taken from a small miscellany, called "Wit restored," 1658, 12mo. He was born, says Ellis, about 1600. Became D. D. and Canon of Christ Church, having served the office of Proctor and public Orator to the University; and had the reputation of being a good preacher, and exquisite speaker, and an eminent poet.
THE DEW NO MORE SHALL WEEP.
THE dew no more shall weep,
Nuzzled in the lily's neck:
Not the soft gold which
Steals from the amber weeping tree,
As the drops distill'd from thee:
When sorrow would be seen
In her bright majesty,
For she is a Queen!
Then is she dress'd by none but thee,
Not in the evening's eye
When they red with weeping are;
Sits sorrow with a face so fair:
No where but here doth meet,
The above Song is by the REV. RICHARD CRAWSHAW, who died about 1650. His poetry, says Campbell, is full of tenderness and beauty, sentiment and imagery. His versification is melodious. Expressions delicate and luxurious. Works numerous, and chiefly upon religious subjects.
TELL me not, sweet, I am unkind,
Of thy chaste breast, and quiet mind,