Poemata : Latin, Greek and Italian Poems Part 10

Paradisum Amissam, Lib. II 1

Quales aerii montis de vertice nubes c.u.m surgunt, et jam Boreae tumida ora quierunt, Caelum hilares abdit sp.i.s.sa caligine vultus, Nimbosumque nives aut imbres cogitat aether: Tum si jucundo tandem sol prodeat ore, 5 Et croceo montes et pascua lumine tingat, Gaudent omnia, aves mulcent concentibus agros, Balatuque ovium colles vallesque resultant.

1 Translation of a simile in Paradise Lost, "As when, from mountaintops, the dusky clouds Ascending, &c.--"(ii. 488)--W.C.

3. TRANSLATIONS OF THE ITALIAN POEMS

I

Fair Lady, whose harmonious name the Rheno Through all his gra.s.sy vale delights to hear, Base were, indeed, the wretch, who could forbear To love a spirit elegant as thine, That manifests a sweetness all divine, 5 Nor knows a thousand winning acts to spare, And graces, which Love's bow and arrows are, Temp'ring thy virtues to a softer s.h.i.+ne.

When gracefully thou speak'st, or singest gay Such strains as might the senseless forest move, 10 Ah then--turn each his eyes and ears away, Who feels himself unworthy of thy love!

Grace can alone preserve him, e'er the dart Of fond desire yet reach his inmost heart.

II

As on a hill-top rude, when closing day Imbrowns the scene, some past'ral maiden fair Waters a lovely foreign plant with care, That scarcely can its tender bud display Borne from its native genial airs away, 5 So, on my tongue these accents new and rare Are flow'rs exotic, which Love waters there, While thus, o sweetly scornful! I essay Thy praise in verse to British ears unknown, And Thames exchange for Arno's fair domain; 10 So Love has will'd, and oftimes Love has shown That what He wills he never wills in vain.

Oh that this hard and steril breast might be To Him who plants from heav'n, a soil as free.

III Canzone.

They mock my toil--the nymphs and am'rous swains-- And whence this fond attempt to write, they cry, Love-songs in language that thou little know'st?

How dar'st thou risque to sing these foreign strains?

Say truly. Find'st not oft thy purpose cross'd, 5 And that thy fairest flow'rs, Here, fade and die?

Then with pretence of admiration high-- Thee other sh.o.r.es expect, and other tides, Rivers on whose gra.s.sy sides Her deathless laurel-leaf with which to bind 10 Thy flowing locks, already Fame provides; Why then this burthen, better far declin'd?

Speak, Canzone! for me.--The Fair One said who guides My willing heart, and all my Fancy's flights, "This is the language in which Love delights." 15

IV To Charles Diodati.

Charles--and I say it wond'ring--thou must know That I who once a.s.sum'd a scornful air, And scoff'd at love, am fallen in his snare (Full many an upright man has fallen so) Yet think me not thus dazzled by the flow 5 Of golden locks, or damask cheek; more rare The heart-felt beauties of my foreign fair; A mien majestic, with dark brows, that show The tranquil l.u.s.tre of a lofty mind; Words exquisite, of idioms more than one, 10 And song, whose fascinating pow'r might bind, And from her sphere draw down the lab'ring Moon, With such fire-darting eyes, that should I fill My ears with wax, she would enchant me still.

V.

Lady! It cannot be, but that thine eyes Must be my sun, such radiance they display And strike me ev'n as Phoebus him, whose way Through torrid Libya's sandy desert lies.

Meantime, on that side steamy vapours rise 5 Where most I suffer. Of what kind are they, New as to me they are, I cannot say, But deem them, in the Lover's language--sighs.

Some, though with pain, my bosom close conceals, Which, if in part escaping thence, they tend 10 To soften thine, they coldness soon congeals.

While others to my tearful eyes ascend, Whence my sad nights in show'rs are ever drown'd, 'Till my Aurora comes, her brow with roses bound.

VI.1

Enamour'd, artless, young, on foreign ground, Uncertain whither from myself to fly, To thee, dear Lady, with an humble sigh Let me devote my heart, which I have found By certain proofs not few, intrepid, sound, 5 Good, and addicted to conceptions high: When tempests shake the world, and fire the sky, It rests in adamant self-wrapt around, As safe from envy, and from outrage rude, From hopes and fears, that vulgar minds abuse, 10 As fond of genius, and fix'd fort.i.tude, Of the resounding lyre, and every Muse.

Weak you will find it in one only part, Now pierc'd by Love's immedicable dart.

1 It has ever been thought difficult for an author to speak gracefully of himself, especially in commendation; but Milton, who was gifted with powers to overcome difficulties, of every kind, is eminently happy in this particular. He has spoken frequently of himself both in verse and prose, and he continually shows that he thought highly of his own endowments; but if he praises himself, he does it with that dignified frankness and simplicity of conscious truth, which renders even egotism respectable and delightful: whether he describes the fervent and tender emotions of his juvenile fancy, or delineates his situation in the decline of life, when he had to struggle with calamity and peril, the more insight he affords us into his own sentiments and feelings, the more reason we find both to love, and revere him.--W.C.

Appendix: Cowper's translation of Andrew Marvell's "To Christina, Queen of Sweden," &c.

To Christina, Queen of Sweden, with Cromwell's Picture.1

Christina, maiden of heroic mien!

Star of the North! of northern stars the queen!

Behold, what wrinkles I have earn'd, and how The iron cask still chafes my vet'ran brow, While following fate's dark footsteps, I fulfill The dictates of a hardy people's will.

But soften'd, in thy sight, my looks appear, Not to all Queens or Kings alike severe.

1 Written on Cromwell's behalf, this poem was originally attr. to Milton, hence Cowper's inclusion of it. It has since been recognized as the work of Marvell.

Appendix: Poems from the Latin Prose Works. Translated by various hands.

Epigram From "Pro Populo Anglicano Defensio" (I650).

Translated by Joseph Was.h.i.+ngton (I692).

On Salmasius's "Hundreda."

Who taught Salmasius, the French chatt'ring Pye,1 To try at English, and "Hundreda"2 cry?

The starving Rascal, flush'd with just a Hundred English Jacobusses,3 "Hundreda" blunder'd.

An outlaw'd King's last stock.--a hundred more, Would make him pimp for th'Antichristian Wh.o.r.e;4 And in Rome's praise employ his poison'd Breath, Who once threatn'd to stink the Pope to death.

1 i.e. The Magpie.

2 Salmasius attempted to do certain English words in his Latin.

a "Hundred" was a division of an English s.h.i.+re.

3 The Jacobus was a gold coin named for James I.

4 Salmasius attacked the Pope in "De Primatu Papae" in I645.

Epigrams from the "Defensio Secunda" (I654).

Translated by Robert Fellowes (I878?).

On Salmasius.

Rejoice, ye herrings, and ye ocean fry, Who, in cold winter, s.h.i.+ver in the sea; The knight, Salmasius,1 pitying your hard lot, Bounteous intends your nakedness to clothe, And, lavish of his paper, is preparing Chartaceous jackets to invest you all, Jackets resplendent with his arms and fame, Exultingly parade the fishy mart, And sing his praise with checquered, livery, That well might serve to grace the letter'd store Of those who pick their noses and ne'er read.

1 A play on "Salmon."

[Lines Concerning Alexander More.]1

O Pontia, teeming with More's Gallic seed, You have been Mor'd2 enough, and no More need.

1 Wrongly attr. to Milton, who prefaced these lines with, "Ingenii, hoc distochon" [Some ingenious person wrote this distich]. Milton wrongly believed More to be the author of a libel against him.

2 It is impossible to give a literally exact rendering of this. I have played upon the name as well as I could in English.--R.F.

Appendix: Translation of a Letter to Thomas Young, Translated by Robert Fellows (I878?).