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第15节

a defence of poesie and poems-第15节

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How oft have I been reft of sense; By gazing on their excellence; But meeting Mopsa in my way; And looking on her face of clay; Been healed; and cured; and made as sound; As though I ne'er had had a wound? And when in tables of my heart; Love wrought such things as bred my smart; Mopsa would come; with face of clout; And in an instant wipe them out。 And when their faces made me sick; Mopsa would come; with face of brick; A little heated in the fire; And break the neck of my desire。 Now from their face I turn mine eyes; But (cruel panthers!) they surprise Me with their breath; that incense sweet; Which only for the gods is meet; And jointly from them doth respire; Like both the Indies set on fire:

Which so o'ercomes man's ravished sense; That souls; to follow it; fly hence。 No such…like smell you if you range To th' Stocks; or Cornhill's square Exchange; There stood I still as any stock; Till Mopsa; with her puddle dock; Her compound or electuary; Made of old ling and young canary; Bloat…herring; cheese; and voided physic; Being somewhat troubled with a phthisic; Did cough; and fetch a sigh so deep; As did her very bottom sweep: Whereby to all she did impart; How love lay rankling at her heart: Which; when I smelt; desire was slain; And they breathed forth perfumes in vain。 Their angel voice surprised me now; But Mopsa; her Too…whit; Too…whoo; Descending through her oboe nose; Did that distemper soon compose。

And; therefore; O thou precious owl; The wise Minerva's only fowl; What; at thy shrine; shall I devise To offer up a sacrifice? Hang AEsculapius; and Apollo; And Ovid; with his precious shallow。 Mopsa is love's best medicine; True water to a lover's wine。 Nay; she's the yellow antidote; Both bred and born to cut Love's throat: Be but my second; and stand by; Mopsa; and I'll them both defy; And all else of those gallant races; Who wear infection in their faces; For thy face (that Medusa's shield!) Will bring me safe out of the field。



POEM:  VERSES



To the tune of the Spanish song; 〃Si tu senora no ducles de mi。〃

O fair! O sweet! when I do look on thee; In whom all joys so well agree; Heart and soul do sing in me。 This you hear is not my tongue; Which once said what I conceived; For it was of use bereaved; With a cruel answer stung。 No! though tongue to roof be cleaved; Fearing lest he chastised be; Heart and soul do sing in me。

O fair! O sweet! when I do look on thee; In whom all joys so well agree; Just accord all music makes; In thee just accord excelleth; Where each part in such peace dwelleth; One of other beauty takes。 Since then truth to all minds telleth; That in thee lives harmony; Heart and soul do sing in me。

O fair! O sweet! when I do look on thee; In whom all joys so well agree; They that heaven have known do say; That whoso that grace obtaineth; To see what fair sight there reigneth; Forced are to sing alway: So then since that heaven remaineth In thy face; I plainly see; Heart and soul do sing in me。

O fair! O sweet! when I do look on thee; In whom all joys so well agree; Sweet; think not I am at ease; For because my chief part singeth; This song from death's sorrow springeth: As to swan in last disease: For no dumbness; nor death; bringeth Stay to true love's melody: Heart and soul do sing in me。



POEM:  TRANSLATION



From Horace; Book II。 Ode X。; beginning 〃Rectius vives; Licini;〃 &c。

You better sure shall live; not evermore Trying high seas; nor; while sea's rage you flee; Pressing too much upon ill…harboured shore。

The golden mean who loves; lives safely free From filth of foreworn house; and quiet lives; Released from court; where envy needs must be。

The wind most oft the hugest pine tree grieves: The stately towers come down with greater fall: The highest hills the bolt of thunder cleaves。

Evil haps do fill with hope; good haps appall With fear of change; the courage well prepared: Foul winters; as they come; away they shall。

Though present times; and past; with evils be snared; They shall not last:  with cithern silent Muse; Apollo wakes; and bow hath sometime spared。

In hard estate; with stout shows; valour use; The same man still; in whom wisdom prevails; In too full wind draw in thy swelling sails。



POEM:  A SONNET BY SIR EDWARD DYER



Prometheus; when first from heaven high He brought down fire; till then on earth not seen; Fond of delight; a satyr; standing by; Gave it a kiss; as it like sweet had been。

Feeling forthwith the other burning power; Wood with the smart; with shouts and shrieking shrill; He sought his ease in river; field; and bower; But; for the time; his grief went with him still。

So silly I; with that unwonted sight; In human shape an angel from above; Feeding mine eyes; th' impression there did light; That since I run and rest as pleaseth love: The difference is; the satyr's lips; my heart; He for a while; I evermore; have smart。



POEM:  SIR PHILIP SIDNEY'S SONNET IN REPLY



A satyr once did run away for dread; With sound of horn which he himself did blow: Fearing and feared; thus from himself he fled; Deeming strange evil in that he did not know。

Such causeless fears when coward minds do take; It makes them fly that which they fain would have; As this poor beast; who did his rest forsake; Thinking not why; but how; himself to save。

Ev'n thus might I; for doubts which I conceive Of mine own words; my own good hap betray; And thus might I; for fear of may be; leave The sweet pursuit of my desired prey。 Better like I thy satyr; dearest Dyer; Who burnt his lips to kiss fair shining fire。



POEM:  MUST LOVE LAMENT?



My mistress lowers; and saith I do not love: I do protest; and seek with service due; In humble mind; a constant faith to prove; But for all this; I cannot her remove From deep vain thought that I may not be true。

If oaths might serve; ev'n by the Stygian lake; Which poets say the gods themselves do fear; I never did my vowed word forsake: For why should I; whom free choice slave doth make; Else…what in face; than in my fancy bear?

My Muse; therefore; for only thou canst tell; Tell me the cause of this my causeless woe? Tell; how ill thought disgraced my doing well? Tell; how my joys and hopes thus foully fell To so low ebb that wonted were to flow?

O this it is; the knotted straw is found; In tender hearts; small things engender hate: A horse's worth laid waste the Trojan ground; A three…foot stool in Greece made trumpets sound; An ass's shade e'er now hath bred debate。

If Greeks themselves were moved with so small cause; To twist those broils; which hardly would untwine: Should ladies fair be tied to such hard laws; As in their moods to take a ling'ring pause? I would it not; their metal is too fine。

My hand doth not bear witness with my heart; She saith; because I make no woeful lays; To paint my living death and endless smart: And so; for one that felt god Cupid's dart; She thinks I lead and live too merry days。

Are poets then the only lovers true; Whose hearts are set on measuring a verse? Who think themselves well blest; if they renew Some good old dump that Chaucer's mistress knew; And use but you for matters to rehearse。

Then; good Apollo; do away thy bow: Take harp and sing in this our versing time; And in my brain some sacred humour flow; That all the earth my woes; sighs; tears may know; And see you not that I fall low to rhyme。

As for my mirth; how could I but be glad; Whilst that methought I justly made my boast That only I the only mistress had? But now; if e'er my face with joy be clad; Think Hannibal did laugh when Carthage lost。

Sweet lady; as for those whose sullen cheer; Compared to me; made me in lightness sound; Who; stoic…like; in cloudy hue appear; Who silence force to make their words more dear; Whose eyes seem chaste; because they look on ground:

Believe them not; for physic true doth find; Choler adust is joyed in woman…kind。



POEM:  A DIALOGUE BETWEEN TWO SHEPHERDS



Uttered in a Pastoral Show at Wilton。

WILL。  Dick; since we cannot dance; come; let a cheerful voice Show that we do not grudge at all when others do rejoice。

DICK。  Ah Will; though I grudge not; I count it feeble glee; With sight made dim with daily tears another's sport to see。 Whoever lambkins saw; yet lambkins love to play; To play when that their loved dams are stolen or gone astray? If this in them be true; as true in men think I; A lustless song forsooth thinks he that hath more lust to cry。

WILL。  A time there is for all; my mother often says; When she; with skirts tucked very high; with girls at football plays When thou hast mind to weep; seek out some smoky room: Now let those lightsome sights we see thy darkness overcome。

DICK。  What joy the joyful sun gives unto bleared eyes; That comfort in these sports you like; my mind his comfort tries。

WILL。  What?  Is thy bagpipe broke; or are thy lambs miswent; Thy wallet or thy tar…box lost; or thy new raiment…rent?

DICK。  I would it were but thus; for thus it were too well。

WILL。  Thou see'st my ears do itch at it:  good Dick thy sorrow tell。

DICK。  Hear then; and learn to sigh:  a mistress I do serve; Whose wages make me beg the more; who feeds me till I starve; Whose liver

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