The Poetical Works of John Dryden Volume Ii Part 17

Retreat, rude winds, retreat To hollow rocks, your stormy seat; There swell your lungs, and vainly, vainly threat.

V.

Foe folded flocks, on fruitful plains, The shepherd's and the farmer's gains, Fair Britain all the world outvies; And Pan, as in Arcadia, reigns, Where pleasure mix'd with profit lies.

Though Jason's fleece was famed of old, The British wool is growing gold; No mines can more of wealth supply; It keeps the peasant from the cold, And takes for kings the Tyrian dye.

VI.

Fairest isle, all isles excelling, Seat of pleasures and of loves; Venus here will choose her dwelling, And forsake her Cyprian groves.

Cupid from his favourite nation Care and envy will remove; Jealousy, that poisons pa.s.sion, And despair, that dies for love,

Gentle murmurs, sweet complaining, Sighs, that blow the fire of love; Soft repulses, kind disdaining, Shall be all the pains you prove.

Every swain shall pay his duty, Grateful every nymph shall prove; And as these excel in beauty, Those shall be renown'd for love.

XVIII.

SONG OF JEALOUSY, IN LOVE TRIUMPHANT.

What state of life can be so blest As love, that warms a lover's breast?

Two souls in one, the same desire To grant the bliss, and to require!

But if in heaven a h.e.l.l we find, 'Tis all from thee, O Jealousy!

'Tis all from thee, O Jealousy!

Thou tyrant, tyrant Jealousy, Thou tyrant of the mind!

All other ills, though sharp they prove, Serve to refine, and perfect love: In absence, or unkind disdain, Sweet hope relieves the lover's pain.

But, ah! no cure but death we find, To set us free From Jealousy: O Jealousy!

Thou tyrant, tyrant Jealousy, Thou tyrant of the mind!

False in thy gla.s.s all objects are, Some set too near, and some too far; Thou art the fire of endless night, The fire that burns, and gives no light.

All torments of the d.a.m.n'd we find In only thee, O Jealousy!

Thou tyrant, tyrant Jealousy, Thou tyrant of the mind!

XIX.

SONG. FAREWELL, FAIR ARMIDA.

Farewell, fair Armida, my joy and my grief, In vain I have loved you, and hope no relief; Undone by your virtue, too strict and severe, Your eyes gave me love, and you gave me despair; Now call'd by my honour, I seek with content The fate which in pity you would not prevent: To languish in love, were to find by delay A death that's more welcome the speediest way.

On seas and in battles, in bullets and fire, The danger is less than in hopeless desire; 10 My death's-wound you give, though far off I bear My fall from your sight--not to cost you a tear: But if the kind flood on a wave should convey, And under your window my body should lay, The wound on my breast when you happen to see, You'll say with a sigh--it was given by me.

XX.

ALEXANDER'S FEAST; OR, THE POWER OF MUSIC.

AN ODE, IN HONOUR OF ST CECILIA'S DAY.

1 'Twas at the royal feast, for Persia won By Philip's warlike son: Aloft in awful state The G.o.dlike hero sate On his imperial throne: His valiant peers were placed around; Their brows with roses and with myrtles bound (So should desert in arms be crown'd).

The lovely Thais, by his side, Sate like a blooming Eastern bride In flower of youth and beauty's pride.

Happy, happy, happy pair!

None but the brave, None but the brave, None but the brave deserves the fair.

CHORUS.

Happy, happy, happy pair!

None but the brave, None but the brave, None but the brave deserves the fair.

2 Timotheus, placed on high Amid the tuneful quire, With flying fingers touch'd the lyre: The trembling notes ascend the sky, And heavenly joys inspire.

The song began from Jove, Who left his blissful seats above (Such is the power of mighty love).

A dragon's fiery form belied the G.o.d: Sublime on radiant spires he rode, When he to fair Olympia press'd: And while he sought her snowy breast: Then, round her slender waist he curl'd, And stamp'd an image of himself, a sovereign of the world.

The listening crowd admire the lofty sound, A present deity, they shout around, A present deity, the vaulted roofs rebound: With ravish'd ears The monarch hears, a.s.sumes the G.o.d, Affects to nod, And seems to shake the spheres.

CHORUS.

With ravish'd ears The monarch hears, a.s.sumes the G.o.d, Affects to nod, And seems to shake the spheres.

3 The praise of Bacchus then, the sweet musician sung; Of Bacchus ever fair and ever young: The jolly G.o.d in triumph comes; Sound the trumpets; beat the drums; Flush'd with a purple grace He shows his honest face: Now give the hautboys breath; he comes, he comes.

Bacchus, ever fair and young, Drinking joys did first ordain; Bacchus' blessings are a treasure, Drinking is the soldier's pleasure: Rich the treasure, Sweet the pleasure; Sweet is pleasure after pain.

CHORUS.

Bacchus' blessings are a treasure, Drinking is the soldier's pleasure: Rich the treasure, Sweet the pleasure; Sweet is pleasure after pain.

4 Soothed with the sound the king grew vain; Fought all his battles o'er again; And thrice he routed all his foes; and thrice he slew the slain.

The master saw the madness rise; His glowing cheeks, his ardent eyes; And while he heaven and earth defied, Changed his hand, and check'd his pride.

He chose a mournful muse Soft pity to infuse: He sung Darius great and good, By too severe a fate, Fallen, fallen, fallen, fallen, Fallen from his high estate, And weltering in his blood; Deserted, at his utmost need, By those his former bounty fed; On the bare earth exposed he lies, With not a friend to close his eyes.

With downcast looks the joyless victor sate, Revolving in his alter'd soul The various turns of chance below; And now and then a sigh he stole; And tears began to flow.

CHORUS.

Revolving in his alter'd soul The various turns of chance below; And now and then a sigh he stole; And tears began to flow.

5 The mighty master smiled, to see That love was in the next degree: 'Twas but a kindred sound to move, For pity melts the mind to love.

Softly sweet, in Lydian measures, Soon he soothed his soul to pleasures.