The Odes of Casimire - Part 8
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Part 8

'Tis now high noone, the scorching Sun doth burne I'th' mid'st o'th' pole, the mower spares the corne, The Shepheard, with his flocks, is glad-- And painted birds, to seeke coole shade.

But Jesu! where art thou? what region's blest By holding thee so long in silent rest?

What darksome shade denyes my love?

Or with thick boughs what shady Grove?

Knew I on what green Turfe thou dost repose Thy fainting limbs; what wind with soft breath blowes'

What streame, with bubling, pa.s.sing by Disturbs thy sleep, or wakens thee; Oh! lest the too much noise should raise thee, I Would let fall streams of teares should qualifie; My warmer sighes thou mix'd should'st find With the cold blasts o'th'Easterne wind.

_Ex sacro Salomonis Epithalamio._

En dilectus meus loquitur mihi: Surge, propera amica mea, columba mea, formosa mea, & veni. Iam enim hiems transiit, imber abiit & recessit. &c.

_Ode 21. Lib. 4._

Out of _Salomon_'s sacred marriage song.

_My beloved spake and said unto mee, rise up my love, my Dove, my faire one, and come away; for loe the winter is past, the raine is over and gone: the flowers appeare on the earth, the time of singing of birds is come, and the voice of the Turtle is heard in our Land.

The fig tree putteth forth, &c._

_Ode 21. Lib. 4._

Fallor? an Elysii laeva de parte Sereni Me mea vita vocat!

Surge soror, pulchris innect.i.to lora columbis; Pulchrior ipsa super Scande rotas, Libaniq; levem de vertice currum, Has, age flecte domos.

Ad tua decidu fugiunt vestigia nimbi, Turbidus imber abiit: Ipsa sub innocuis mitesc.u.n.t fulmina plantis, Ipsa virescit hiems.

Do I mistake? or from Elyzium cleare My life's call doe I heare?

Sister arise, and harnesse thy sweet paire Of Doves, thy selfe more faire; Mount and drive hither, here let thy Chariot stop, From _Liba.n.u.s_ hye top; At thy approach the falling showres doe fly, Tempestuous stormes pa.s.se by, The lightning's quench'd under thy harmlesse feet, Winter turnes Spring to see't.

Interea sacris aperit se scena viretis Sub pedibusq; tibi Altera floret humus, alterq; vagantia laetus Sidera pascit ager.

Hic etiam trepidi pendent e rupibus haedi, Praecipitesq; caprae; Hinnuleique suis, pa.s.sim dum flumina tranant, Luxuriantur aquis.

While in the sacred Green, a bow're we see Doth spread it selfe for thee.

The Earth new Turff's it selfe for thee to tread, The straying starrs fresh fields make glad.

Here with their dams, of Kids th'amazed flocks Hang on steep sides of Rocks; Here as they swim, the wanton Hinds do play In the coole streames all day.

It Leo c.u.m Pardo viridis de colle Saniri Mitis uterque regi, c.u.mque suo pa.s.sim ludunt in montibus agno Exsuperantque juga.

Plurimus hos circ.u.m tacito pede labitur amnis, Pumicibusque cavis Per violas lapsae per declives hyacinthos, Exspatiantur aquae.

The Lion with the Libard downe is l'ed Tame and well governed; Each with his Lamb about the Mountaines skip, O're Hills they lightly trip.

By these a s.p.a.cious brooke doth slowly glide, Which with a spreading tyde Through bending Lilyes, banks of Violets From th'hollow Pumice sweats.

Lene fluunt rivi, muscosis lene susurrus Murmurat e scopulis.

In vitrio pisces saliunt hilares crystallo, Dulce queruntur aves.

Nec ver, si msta placent saletia caelo Flebile murmur abest: Nam sibi dum vestro regemunt ex orbe palumbes, Huc sonus ille venit.

Sic dum se viduo solatur Carmine turtur, Gaudia nostra placent.

The rivers gently flow, and a still sound From mossie Rocks doth bound.

The sporting fish dance in the christall Mayne, The Birds sweetly complaine, The ayre, if dolefull comforts please, doth ring With mournfull murmuring.

For when the Doves eccho each others cry That sound doth hither fly.

As they with widowed notes themselves do please, Just so, our joyes increase.

Cetera non desunt, p.r.o.nis vindemia pendet Officiosa botris, Hic etiam vulg violas, albentia vulgo Ungue ligustra leges: Ipsa tibi, leti succos oblita priores, Mitia poma cadent: Ipsae matura labentur ab arbore ficus, Percutientq; sinum.

Interea falcem vindemia nescit, aratrum Saucia nescit humus.

Ipsae sponte virent segetes, innoxius ipse Messibus albet ager.

Praebent Hospitium platani: praebet formosos Graminis herba toros.

No want appeares; th'officious Vine doth stand With bending cl.u.s.ters to our hand.

Here, thou shalt pick sweet Violets, and there Fresh Lillyes all the yeare: The Apple ripe drops from its stalke to thee, From tast of death made free.

The luscious fruit from the full Figtree shall Into thy bosome fall.

Meane while, the Vine no pruning knife doth know, The wounded earth no plow.

The Corne growes green alone, and th'unhurt land Doth white with harvest stand.

The gra.s.se affords a stately bed, the Plane Spreads thee to entertaine.

Caedua Pchaeos sudant opobalsama nimbos; Et genialis odor Aspirat quoties, nutantibus hinc atque illinc Ingruit aura comit.

Surge; quid indignos ducis per taedia soles?

Surge, age, cara soror.

Ecce tuis ipsae iam circ.u.m fraena columbae Ingemuere moris.

Huc age, formosas formosior ipsa columbas Hospita flecte furor.

Arabian mists sweat from the gummy tree Of Balme, and all for thee; Which through the ayre, a rich perfume doe throw, Fann'd with each neighb'ring bough.

Arise my Sister deare, why dost thou stay, And spend th'unwilling day?

Behold thy harness'd Doves, at thy delay Doe sigh, come, drive away.

Put on, and hither drive thy beauteous paire Of Doves, thy selfe more faire.

_Ad Ia.n.u.ssium Sk.u.minum._

c.u.m conjugi charissimae justa persolveret.

pa?af?ast????.

_Ode 30. Lib. 4._

To _Ia.n.u.sius Sk.u.minus_.

_When hee performed the Funerall obsequies of his most deare Wife._ pa?af?ast????.

Ode 30. Lib. 4.

Si tibi pollicitum numen, si fata fuissent aeternos fere conjugis annos; Jure per a.s.siduos (procerum fortissime) fletus Ereptam quererere, _Ja.n.u.ssi_.

Quem Pietas quem non moveat non tristibus unquam Arx animi concussa procellis Et pudor, & p.r.o.ni niveo de pectore sensus, Et Regina modestia morum, Aut bona sedulitas, aut non incauta futuri Praesagae solertia montis?

What though the G.o.ds have promis'd she shall bee Enfranchis'd to Eternity?

Yet (valiant Sir) so great a losse still cryes For a just tribute from your eyes; View but her pious mind, that tow're of state Not shaken by sad stownes of Fate, Her humble innocent soule, her guiltlesse feare, Her modesty chiefe Regent there; The prudent thrift of her presaging mind Her constant zeale, pure and refin'd; _And who can then forbeare t'embalme her Hea.r.s.e_ _With the daily precious dew of teares?_

Provida sed longam magnis virtutibus aevum Non audent promittere fata: Nec possunt, si quae maturavere, profanis Astra diu committere terris.

Nunc ade parces longis onerare querelis Depositum repetentia magnum, Ingentes animi gazas, & robur, & aureo Incoctum bene pectus honesto.