Musa redi, vocat alma parens Aeademia: noster En redit, ore suo noster Apollo redit; Vultus adhuc suus, et vultu sua purpura tantum Vivit, et admixtas pergit amare nives.

Tune illas violare genas? tune illa profanis, Morbe ferox, tentas ire per ora notis?

Tu Phoebi faciem tentas, vanissime? Nostra Nec Phbe maculas novit habere suas.

Ipsa sui vindex facies morb.u.m indignatur; Ipsa sedet radiis...o...b..ne tuta suis: Quippe illic Deus est. coelumque et sanctius astrum: Quippe sub his totus ridet Apollo genis.

Quod facie Rex tutus erat, quod caetera tactus: Hinc hominem Rex est fa.s.sus, et inde Deum.

TRANSLATION.

TO THE FACE OF THE MOST AUGUST KING.

UNINJURED BY SMALL-POX.

Come, Muse, at call of thy Academy: With his own face our Phbus here we see; His face his own yet, with its own red dyed, Which with its whiteness loves to be allied.

O fierce disease, dost thou, with marks profane, Attempt these cheeks, that countenance, to stain?

Most futile! Dost attempt our Phbus' face?

Not in our Phbe her own spots canst trace.

His self-a.s.serting face disdains disease; 'Mid its own rays it sits, O well at ease.

Sure G.o.d and heaven and holiest star are here; Sure 'neath these cheeks smiles Phbus full and clear.

Our King being safe in face, but touch'd elsewhere, Proves he was here a G.o.d, though a man there. R. WI.

IN SERENISSIMAE REGINAE

PARTUM HIEMALEM.[123]

Serta, puer; quis nunc flores non praebeat hortus?

Texe mihi facili pollice serta puer.

Quid tu nescio quos narras mihi; stulte, Decembres Quid mihi c.u.m nivibus? da mihi serta, puer.

Nix et hiems? non est nostras quid tale per oras; Non est, vel si sit, non tamen esse potest.

Ver agitur: quaecunque trucem dat larva Decembrem, Quid fera cunque fremant frigora, ver agitur.

Nonne vides quali se palmite regia vitis Prodit, et in sacris quae sedet uva jugis?

Tam laetis quae bruma solet ridere racemis?

Quas hiemis pingit purpure tanta genas?

O Maria, o divum soboles, genitrixque deorum, Siccine nostra tuus tempora ludus erunt?

Siccine tu c.u.m vere tuo nihil horrida brumae Sidera, nil madidos sola morare notos?

Siccine sub media poterunt tua surgere bruma, Atque suas solum lilia nosse nives?

Ergo vel invitis nivibus frendentibus Austris, Nostra novis poterunt regna tumere rosis?

O bona turbatrix anni, quae limite noto Tempora sub signis non sinis ire suis; O pia praedatrix hiemis, quae tristia mundi Murmura tam dulci sub ditione tenes; Perge, precor, nostris vim pulchram ferre calendis; Perge, precor, menses sic numerare tuos.

Perge intempestiva atque importuna videri; Inque uteri t.i.tulos sic rape cuncta tui.

Sit n.o.bis sit saepe hiemes sic cernere nostras Exhaeredatas floribus ire tuis.

Saepe sit has vernas hiemes Maiosque Decembres, Has per te roseas saepe videre nives.

Altera gens varium per sidera computet annum, Atque suos ducant per vaga signa dies: Nos deceat nimiis tantum permittere nimbis?

Tempora tam tetricas ferre Britanna vices?

Quin nostrum tibi nos omnem donabimus annum: In partus omnem expende, Maria, tuos.

Sic tuus ille uterus nostri bonus arbiter anni: Tempus et in t.i.tulos transeat omne tuos.

Namque alia indueret tam dulcia nomina mensis?

Aut qua tam posset candidus ire toga?

Hanc laurum Ja.n.u.s sibi vertice vellet utroque: Hanc sibi vel tota Chloride Maius emet.

Tota suam, vere expulso, respublica florum Reginam cuperent te sobolemve tuam.

O bona sors anni, c.u.m cuncti ex ordine menses Hic mihi Carolides, hic Maria.n.u.s erit!

TRANSLATION.

TO HER SERENE MAJESTY, CHILD-BEARING IN WINTER.

Garlands! bring garlands, boy! what garden now Would not give flowers? with ready hand do thou Weave garlands. What! December, sayst thou,--snow?

Fool! hold thy blabbing, speak of what we know.

Winter upon our sh.o.r.es, and snow? the thing Is not, and cannot be. It is the Spring: Whatever ghost threatens us with the drear Beatings of wild December, Spring is here.

See'st thou not with what leaves the royal vine Spreads forth, what cl.u.s.ters on her boughs incline?

Say, when like this was Winter ever seen To laugh and glow in purple? O great Queen, Offspring of G.o.ds, and mother! do we see The seasons thus a plaything made for thee?

Thus with thy Spring mayst thou the stars restrain, That Winter sting not, nor the South bring rain.

And do the lilies by thy grace alone Spring up, and know no snows except their own?

In spite of all that Winter may oppose, Are thus our kingdoms blooming with the rose?

O thou most blest disturber of the year, Who sufferest not the bounded seasons here To keep i' their own signs! destroyer kind Of Winter, whose sweet influence can bind All harsher murmurs of the world, still dare We pray thee, thus to force our calendar With thy fair violence; continue still The months to number at thine own sweet will; Still thus untimely, still thus burdensome, Make all things subject to thy royal womb.

So, by thy grace, may it be often ours To see dethroned Winter deck'd in flowers; On snow that falls i' roses still to gaze, Sweet vernal Winters and December Mays!

Let others by the stars compute their year, And count their days as wandering signs appear: Not so we Britons; not for us shall storm With cruel change our seasons dare deform; To thee, great Queen, our whole year we resign, O spend it all i' those rich births of thine!

So the whole year shall own thy womb to be Its sovereign arbitress of good; in thee Merge all its t.i.tles. Where's the month could bear A more delicious name, or ever wear More whiteness? Ja.n.u.s, for his double crown, Covets this laurel; Maius for his own Would buy it, though his Chloris were the cost.

Thee or thine infant, now that Spring has lost His ancient throne, the flow'ry states invite To take their empire. O blest year, how bright Thy fortunes, where each month in turn may claim From Mary or from Charles its mighty name! G.

AD REGINAM

ET SIBI ET ACADEMIAE PARTURIENTEM.[124]

Huc o sacris circ.u.mflua coetibus, Huc o frequentem, Musa, choris pedem Fer, annuo doctum labore Purpureas agitare cunas.

Foecunditatem provocat, en, tuam Maria partu n.o.bilis altero, Prolemque Musarum ministram Egregius sibi poscit infans.

Nempe illa nunquam pignore simplici Sibive soli facta puerpera est: Partu repercusso, vel absens, Perpetuos procreat gemellos.

Hos ipsa partus scilicet efficit, Inque ipsa vires carmina suggerit, Quae spiritum vitamque donat Principibus simul et Camaenis.

Possit Camaenas, non sine numine, La.s.sare nostras diva puerpera, Et gaudiis siccare totam Perpetuis Heliconis undam.

Quin experiri pergat, et in vices Certare sanctis conditionibus: Lis dulcis est, nec indecoro Pulvere, sic potuisse vinci.

Alternis Natura diem meditatur et umbras, Hinc atro, hinc albo pignore facta parens.

Tu melior Natura tuas, dulcissima, servas-- Sed quam dissimili sub ratione!--vices.

Candida tu, et partu semper tibi concolor omni: Hinc natam, hinc natum das; sed utrinque diem.

TRANSLATION.

TO THE QUEEN.

Hither, Muse, and bring again Thy august surrounding train; With measur'd tread of practis'd feet Come, for thou hast learn'd to greet With the voice of loyal cheer A princely cradle year by year.

Lo, our n.o.ble Queen on thee Calls in fruitful rivalry By another birth; and he, Ill.u.s.trious infant, needs must have The Muses' offspring for his slave.

Never has she yet been known A mother for herself alone, But by a reflected might Even in absence doth delight In twins ever, and while she Thus augments her progeny, And gives vigour to the lyre, She doth at once with life inspire Young princes, and the Muses' quire.

These, though not untouch'd they be With the sacred flame, may she Tire in her fruitful deity, And with joys that theirs outrun, Dry at last all Helicon!

Sweet is the strife wherein, to prove Her powers, she deigns by rule to move; Nor an unbecoming stain Is the dust that they must gain, Who in such contest can but fight in vain.

Nature, o'er day and night alternate dreaming, Brings forth a swart child now, and now a fair: On thee attends, O Queen in beauty beaming, A better Nature, with a rule how rare!

Bright as thyself, thine own tend all the selfsame way; A daughter now, and now a son; but each a child of Day. CL.