SIR JOHN DENHAM (1615-1669) RICHARD LOVELACE (1618-1658) By his old sire to his embraces runs, Though with those streams he no resemblance hold, Whose foam is amber, and their gravel gold, And hatches plenty for th' ensuing spring; 70 O Thou that swing'st upo knew us not; Of some well-filled oateh so much horr Drunk every night with a cars and weak Dropt thee from heavenix hours ago, tewert rear'd. ble or ambit e regret, sta The joys of earth and air arbody lies stri That with thy feet and wirve read of aand fly; And when thy poppy wo lie. ho, liv offlost retire 8 Up with the day, the sun thou welcom'st Sport'st in the gilt plaits of his beams, TO ALTHEA, FROM PRISON When Love with unconfinèd wings Hovers within my gates, And my divine Althea brings To whisper at the grates; The birds that wanton in the air When flowing cups run swiftly round With no allaying Thames,1 1 diluting water 12 8 8 Fair trees! wheres'e'er your barks I wound When we have run our passion's heat, What wondrous life is this I lead! Meanwhile the mind, from pleasure less, Here at the fountain's sliding foot, Such was that happy garden-state, How well the skilful gardener drew 32 40 48 56 64 1 rare, exotic 2a bed of various flowers which, opening at successive hours, indicate the time of day Had we but world enough, and time, This coyness, Lady, were no crime, We would sit down and think which way To walk and pass our long love's day. Thou by the Indian Ganges' side Shouldst rubies find; I by the tide Of Humber would complain. I would Love you ten years before the Flood, And you should, if you please, refuse Till the conversion of the Jews. My vegetable love should grow Vaster than empires, and more slow; An hundred years should go to praise Thine eyes and on thy forehead gaze; Two hundred to adore each breast, But thirty thousand to the rest ; An age at least to every part, And the last age should show your heart. For, Lady, you deserve this state, Nor would I love at lower rate. But at my back I always hear Time's winged chariot hurrying near; Thy beauty shall no more be found, Nor, in thy marble vault, shall sound My echoing song; then worms shall try And your quaint honour turn to dust, The grave's a fine and private place, But none, I think, do there embrace. Now therefore, while the youthful hue Than languish in his slow-chapt1 power. 40 Our sweetness up into one ball, And tear our pleasures with rough strife Thus, though we cannot make our sun 1 Time is represented as having jaws (chaps) that move slowly. 2 through 30 20 ΙΟ HENRY VAUGHAN (1622-1695) THE RETREAT Happy those early days, when I And looking back at that short space - Before I taught my tongue to wound O how I long to travel back, But I by backward steps would move; In that state I came, return. FROM THE WORLD I saw Eternity the other night, Like a great ring of pure and endless light, All calm, as it was bright; ΙΟ 20 30 FROM ABSALOM AND ACHITOPHEL * * * 2 Of these the false Achitophel1 was first, 150 A name to all succeeding ages curst: For close designs and crooked counsels fit, Sagacious, bold, and turbulent of wit,3 Restless, unfixed in principles and place, In power unpleased, impatient of disgrace: 155 A fiery soul, which, working out its way, Fretted the pigmy body to decay 4 And o'er-informed the tenement of clay. Pleased with the danger, when the waves went high, He sought the storms; but, for a calm unfit, Would steer too nigh the sands to boast his wit. 162 Great wits are sure to madness near allied Refuse his age the needful hours of rest? 166 * A numerous host of dreaming saints succeed Of the true old enthusiastic breed: 530 'Gainst form and order they their power employ, Nothing to build and all things to destroy. Adored their fathers' God and property, 536 1 the Earl of Shaftesbury 2 secret 3 intellect 4 overfilled their enemies, the Catholics |