Delphi Poetry Anthology: The World's Greatest Poems (Delphi Poets Series Book 50) (119 page)

BOOK: Delphi Poetry Anthology: The World's Greatest Poems (Delphi Poets Series Book 50)
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To His Mistress

 

Earl of Rochester (1647–1680)

 

Why dost thou shade thy lovely face? O why
Does that eclipsing hand of thine deny
The sunshine of the Sun’s enlivening eye?

 

Without thy light what light remains in me?
Thou art my life; my way, my light’s in thee;
I live, I move, and by thy beams I see.

 

Thou art my life-if thou but turn away
My life’s a thousand deaths. Thou art my way-
Without.thee, Love, I travel not but stray.

 

My light thou art-without thy glorious sight
My eyes are darken’d with eternal night.
My Love, thou art my way, my life, my light.

 

Thou art my way; I wander if thou fly.
Thou art my light; if hid, how blind am I!
Thou art my life; if thou withdraw’st, I die.

 

My eyes are dark and blind, I cannot see:
To whom or whither should my darkness flee,
But to that light?-and who’s that light but thee?

 

If I have lost my path, dear lover, say,
Shall I still wander in a doubtful way?
Love, shall a lamb of Israel’s sheepfold stray?

 

My path is lost, my wandering steps do stray;
I cannot go, nor can I safely stay;
Whom should I seek but thee, my path, my way?

 

And yet thou turn’st thy face away and fly’st me!
And yet I sue for grace and thou deny’st me!
Speak, art thou angry, Love, or only try’st me?

 

Thou art the pilgrim’s path, the blind man’s eye,
The dead man’s life. On thee my hopes rely:
If I but them remove, I surely die.

 

Dissolve thy sunbeams, close thy wings and stay!
See, see how I am blind, and dead, and stray!
-O thou art my life, my light, my way!

 

Then work thy will! If passion bid me flee,
My reason shall obey, my wings shall be
Stretch’d out no farther than from me to thee!

 

List of Poems in Alphabetical Order

 

List of Poets in Alphabetical Order

 

Chloris

 

Sir Charles Sedley (1639–1701)

 

AH, Chloris! could I now but sit
 
As unconcern’d as when
Your infant beauty could beget
 
No happiness or pain!
When I the dawn used to admire,
  
5
 
And praised the coming day,
I little thought the rising fire
 
Would take my rest away.

 

Your charms in harmless childhood lay
 
Like metals in a mine;
  
10
Age from no face takes more away
 
Than youth conceal’d in thine.
But as your charms insensibly
 
To their perfection prest,
So love as unperceived did fly,
  
15
 
And centre’d in my breast.

 

My passion with your beauty grew,
 
While Cupid at my heart
Still as his mother favour’d you
 
Threw a new flaming dart:
  
20
Each gloried in their wanton part;
 
To make a lover, he
Employ’d the utmost of his art —
 
To make a beauty, she.

 

List of Poems in Alphabetical Order

 

List of Poets in Alphabetical Order

 

Celia

 

Sir Charles Sedley (1639–1701)

 

NOT, Celia, that I juster am
 
Or better than the rest;
For I would change each hour, like them,
 
Were not my heart at rest.

 

But I am tied to very thee
  
5
 
By every thought I have;
Thy face I only care to see,
 
Thy heart I only crave.

 

All that in woman is adored
 
In thy dear self I find —
10
For the whole sex can but afford
 
The handsome and the kind.

 

Why then should I seek further store,
 
And still make love anew?
When change itself can give no more,
  
15
 
’Tis easy to be true.

 

List of Poems in Alphabetical Order

 

List of Poets in Alphabetical Order

 

Ode To the Pious Memory of the accomplished young lady, Mrs. Anne Killigrew, excellent in the two sister arts of Poesy and Painting

 

John Dryden (1639–1701)

 

THOU youngest virgin-daughter of the skies,
Made in the last promotion of the blest;
Whose palms, new pluck’d from Paradise,
In spreading branches more sublimely rise,
 
Rich with immortal green above the rest:
  
5
Whether, adopted to some neighbouring star,
Thou roll’st above us, in thy wandering race,
 
Or, in procession fix’d and regular,
 
Moved with the heaven’s majestic pace;
 
Or, call’d to more superior bliss,
  
10
Thou tread’st with seraphims the vast abyss:
Whatever happy region be thy place,
Cease thy celestial song a little space;
Thou wilt have time enough for hymns divine,
 
Since Heaven’s eternal year is thine.
  
15
Hear, then, a mortal Muse thy praise rehearse,
  
In no ignoble verse;
But such as thy own voice did practise here,
When thy first-fruits of Poesy were given,
To make thyself a welcome inmate there;
  
20
 
While yet a young probationer,
  
And candidate of heaven.

 

 
If by traduction came thy mind,
 
Our wonder is the less, to find
A soul so charming from a stock so good;
  
25
Thy father was transfused into thy blood:
So wert thou born into a tuneful strain,
An early, rich, and inexhausted vein.
 
But if thy pre-existing soul
 
Was form’d at first with myriads more,
  
30
It did through all the mighty poets roll
 
Who Greek or Latin laurels wore,
And was that Sappho last, which once it was before.
 
If so, then cease thy flight, O heaven-born mind!
Thou hast no dross to purge from thy rich ore:
  
35
 
Nor can thy soul a fairer mansion find,
 
Than was the beauteous frame she left behind:
Return, to fill or mend the quire of thy celestial kind.

 

 
May we presume to say, that, at thy birth,
New joy was sprung in heaven as well as here on earth?
  
40
 
For sure the milder planets did combine
 
On thy auspicious horoscope to shine,
 
And even the most malicious were in trine.
 
Thy brother-angels at thy birth
 
Strung each his lyre, and tuned it high,
  
45
 
That all the people of the sky
Might know a poetess was born on earth;
 
And then, if ever, mortal ears
 
Had heard the music of the spheres.
 
And if no clustering swarm of bees
  
50
On thy sweet mouth distill’d their golden dew,
 
’Twas that such vulgar miraclès
 
Heaven had not leisure to renew:
For all the blest fraternity of love
Solemnized there thy birth, and kept thy holiday above.
  
55

 

 
O gracious God! how far have we
Profaned thy heavenly gift of Poesy!
Made prostitute and profligate the Muse,
Debased to each obscene and impious use,
Whose harmony was first ordain’d above,
  
60
For tongues of angels and for hymns of love!
O wretched we! why were we hurried down
 
This lubrique and adulterate age
(Nay, added fat pollutions of our own),
 
To increase the streaming ordures of the stage?
  
65
 
What can we say to excuse our second fall?
 
Let this thy Vestal, Heaven, atone for all!
Her Arethusian stream remains unsoil’d,
 
Unmix’d with foreign filth, and undefiled;
Her wit was more than man, her innocence a child.
  
70

 

 
Art she had none, yet wanted none,
 
For Nature did that want supply:
 
So rich in treasures of her own,
 
She might our boasted stores defy:
Such noble vigour did her verse adorn,
  
75
That it seem’d borrow’d, where ’twas only born.
Her morals, too, were in her bosom bred,
 
By great examples daily fed,
What in the best of books, her father’s life, she read.
 
And to be read herself she need not fear;
  
80
 
Each test, and every light, her Muse will bear,
 
Though Epictetus with his lamp were there.
 
Even love (for love sometimes her Muse exprest)
Was but a lambent flame which play’d about her breast,
 
Light as the vapours of a morning dream;
  
85
 
So cold herself, whilst she such warmth exprest,
 
’Twas Cupid bathing in Diana’s stream. …

 

 
Now all those charms, that blooming grace,
The well-proportion’d shape, and beauteous face,
Shall never more be seen by mortal eyes;
  
90
In earth the much-lamented virgin lies.
Not wit, nor piety could fate prevent;
Nor was the cruel destiny content
To finish all the murder at a blow,
To sweep at once her life and beauty too;
  
95
But, like a harden’d felon, took a pride
 
To work more mischievously slow,
 
And plunder’d first, and then destroy’d.
O double sacrilege on things divine,
 
To rob the relic, and deface the shrine!
  
100
 
But thus Orinda died:
 
Heaven, by the same disease did both translate;
As equal were their souls, so equal was their fate.

 

 
Meantime, her warlike brother on the seas
 
His waving streamers to the winds displays,
  
105
And vows for his return, with vain devotion, pays.
 
Ah, generous youth! that wish forbear,
 
The winds too soon will waft thee here!
 
Slack all thy sails, and fear to come,
 
Alas! thou know’st not, thou art wreck’d at home!
  
110
 
No more shalt thou behold thy sister’s face,
 
Thou hast already had her last embrace.
 
But look aloft, and if thou kenn’st from far,
 
Among the Pleiads a new kindled star,
 
If any sparkles than the rest more bright,
  
115
 
’Tis she that shines in that propitious light.

 

When in mid-air the golden trump shall sound,
 
To raise the nations under ground;
When, in the Valley of Jehoshaphat,
The judging God shall close the book of Fate,
  
120
 
And there the last assizes keep
 
For those who wake and those who sleep;
 
When rattling bones together fly
 
From the four corners of the sky;
When sinews o’er the skeletons are spread,
  
125
Those clothed with flesh, and life inspires the dead;
The sacred poets first shall hear the sound,
 
And foremost from the tomb shall bound,
For they are cover’d with the lightest ground;
And straight, with inborn vigour, on the wing,
  
130
Like mounting larks, to the new morning sing.
There thou, sweet Saint, before the quire shall go,
As harbinger of Heaven, the way to show,
The way which thou so well hast learn’d below.

 

List of Poems in Alphabetical Order

 

List of Poets in Alphabetical Order

 

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