But, seeing them both dead, she cry'd, "Ah me! Ah, my Philetus! for thy sake will I
Make up a full and perfect tragedy:
Since 'twas for me, dear love, that thou didst die, I'll follow thee, and not thy loss deplore;
These eyes, that saw thee kill'd, shall see no
"It shall not sure be said that thou didst die, And thy Constantia live when thou wast slain: No, no, dear soul! I will not stay from thee; That will reflect upon my valued fame." [cries, Then piercing her sad breast, "I come!" she And Death for ever closed her weeping eyes.
Her soul being fled to its eternal rest,
Her father comes, and, seeing this, he falls
To the' earth, with grief too great to be exprest:
Whose doleful words my tired Muse me calls
To' o'erpass; which I most gladly do, for fear
That I should toil too much the reader's ear.
RIGHT WORSHIPFUL, MY VERY LOVING MASTER,
MR. LAMBERT OSBOLSTON,
CHIEF SCHOOL-MASTER OF WESTMINSTER-SCHOOL.
My childish Muse is in her Spring, and yet
Can only show some budding of her wit.
One frown upon her work, learn'd sir, from you,
Like some unkinder storm shot from your brow,
Would turn her spring to withering autumn's time,
And make her blossoms perish ere their prime.
But if you smile, if in your gracious eye
She an auspicious alpha can desery,
How soon will they grow fruit! how fresh appear!
That had such beams their infancy to cheer!
Which being sprung to ripeness, expect then
The earliest offering of her grateful pen.
Your most dutiful scholar,
ABR. COWLEY,
PYRAMUS AND THISBE.
WHEN Babylon's high walls erected were
By mighty Ninus' wife, two houses join'd:
One Thisbe lived in, Pyramus the fair
In the other: Earth ne'er boasted such a pair!
The very senseless walls themselves combined,
And grew in one, just like their master's mind.
Thisbe all other women did excel,
The queen of love less lovely was than she:
And Pyramus more sweet than tongue can tell;
Nature grew proud in framing them so well.
But Venus, envying they so fair should be,
Bids her son Cupid show his cruelty.
The all-subduing god his bow doth bend,
Whets and prepares his most remorseless dart,
Which he unseen unto their hearts did send,
And so was Love the cause of Beauty's end.
But could he see, he had not wrought their smart;
For pity sure would have o'ercome his heart.
Like as a bird, which in a net is ta’en,
By struggling more entangles in the gin;
So they, who in Love's labyrinth remain,
With striving never can a freedom gain.
The way to enter's broad; but, being in,
No art, no labour can an exit win.
These lovers, though their parents did reprove Their fires, and watched their deeds with jealousy; Though in these storms no comfort could remove The various doubts and fears that cool hot love; Though he nor her's, nor she his face could see, Yet this could not abolish Love's decree;
For had crack'd the wall which did them part;
This the unanimous couple soon did
spy,
And here their inward sorrows did impart,
Unlading the sad burthen of their heart.
Though Love be blind, this shows he can descry
A way to lessen his own misery.
Oft to the friendly cranny they resort,
And feed themselves with the celestial air
Of odoriferous breath; no other sport
They could enjoy; yet think the time but short, And wish that it again renewed were,
To suck each other's breath for ever there.
Sometimes they did exclaim against their fate, And sometimes they accused imperial Jove; Sometimes repent their flames; but all too late; The arrow could not be recall'd: their state Was first ordain'd by Jupiter above,
And Cupid had appointed they should love.
They curst the wall that did their kisses part,
And to the stones their mournful words they sent,
As if they saw the sorrow of their heart,
And by their tears could understand their smart:
But it was hard and knew not what they meant,
Nor with their sighs, alas! would it relent.
This in effect they said; "Cursed Wall! O Why
Wilt thou our bodies sever, whose true love
Breaks thorough all thy flinty cruelty!
For both our souls so closely joined lie,
That nought but angry Death can them remove;
And though he part them, yet they'll meet above."
Abortive tears from their fair eyes out-flow'd, And damm'd the lovely splendour of their sight, Which seem'd like Titan, whilst some watery cloud O'erspreads his face, and his bright beams doth shroud;
Till Vesper chased away the conquer'd light, And forced them (though loth) to bid good-night.
But ere Aurora, usher to the day,
Began with welcome lustre to appear,
The lovers rise, and at that cranny they
Thus to each other their thoughts open lay,
With many a sigh and many a speaking tear;
Whose grief the pitying Morning blush'd to hear.
"Dear love!" said Pyramus, "how long shall we,
Like fairest flowers not gather'd in their prime,
Waste precious youth, and let advantage flee,
Till we bewail (at last) our cruelty
Upon ourselves? for beauty, though it shine
Like day, will quickly find an evening-time.
"Therefore, sweet Thisbe, let us meet this night
At Ninus' tomb, without the city wall,
Under the mulberry-tree, with berries white
Abounding, there to' enjoy our wish'd delight.
For mounting love, stopt in its course, doth fall,
And long'd for, yet untasted, joy kills all.
"What though our cruel parents angry be?
What though our friends, alas! are too unkind,
Time, that now offers, quickly may deny,
And soon hold back fit opportunity.
Who lets slip Fortune, her shall never find ;
Occasion, once pass'd by, is bald behind."
She soon agreed to that which he required,
For little wooing needs, where both consent;
What he so long had pleaded, she desired:
Which Venus seeing, with blind Chance conspired,
And many a charming accent to her sent,
That she (at last) would frustrate their intent.
|