For when the big-charged storm hath lost its power, It sighs itself into a silent shower.
This I can do, while by each other press'd,
The dewy pearls run trickling o'er my breast.
Yet why should I expect that fate to shun,
Which my unhappy race has still undone?
I need not tell, how, in soft feathers dress'd,
The mighty god his softer nymph possess'd;
How through the deep in unknown ships convey'd 75
Hippodame was from her friends betray'd;
How the fair Tyndaris, by force detain'd,
By the Amyclæan brethren was regain'd:
How afterward by all the Grecian power
She was brought back from the Idæan shore.
I scarce remember that sad day, and yet,
Young as I was, I do remember it.
Her brothers wept, her sister, to remove
Her fears, call'd on the gods, and her own Jove.
"Mother," said I, in a weak mournful tone,
"Will you be gone, and leave me here alone?
When you are gone why should I stay behind ?"
All this I spoke, but spoke it to the wind.
Now like the rest of my cursed pedigree,
By this loath'd wretch I am detain'd from thee. 90
The brave Achilles would have blamed his son,
Nor, had he lived, would this have e'er been done.
He ne'er had thought it lawful to divide
Those two, whom marriage had so firmly tied.
What is't, ye gods, that thus provokes your hate, 95
Or what cursed star rules my unhappy fate?
Why am I plagued by your injurious power
Robb'd of my parents in a tender hour?
He to the war, she with her lover fled,
Though living both, yet both to me were dead.
No babbling words half framed upon thy tongue
Lull'd me to soft repose when I was young.
Your tender neck was ne'er embraced by me,
Nor sat I ever smiling on your knee;
You never tended me, nor was I led
By thee, dear mother, to my marriage bed.
At your return, I saw, but knew you not;
So sure my mother's face I had forgot.
I gazed, and gazed, but knew no feature there,
Yet thought 'twas you, 'cause so divinely fair.
Such was our ignorance, ev'n you, alas!
Ask'd your own daughter where your daughter was.
Thou, my Orestes, wert my sole delight,
Yet thee too I must lose, unless you fight.
Pyrrhus withholds me from thy arms, that's all 115
Hermione has gain'd by Ilium's fall.
Soon as the early harbinger of day
Gilds the glad orb with his resplendent ray;
My grief's made gentler by the approaching light,
And some pain seems to vanish with the night; 120
And when a darkness o'er the earth is spread,
And I return all pensive to my bed,
Tears from my eyes, as streams from fountains flow,
I shunned this husband, as I'd shun a foe.
Oft grown unmindful through distractive cares, 125
I've stretch'd my arms, and touch'd him unawares;
Straight then I check the wandering sense, and fly
To the bed's utmost limits; yet I lie
Restless ev'n there, and think I'm still too nigh.
Oft I for Pyrrhus have Orestes said,
But bless'd the error which my tongue had made.
Now by that royal god, whose frown can make
The vassal globe of his creation shake,
The almighty sire of our unhappy race,
And by the sacred urn that does embrace
Thy father's dust, whose once loud blood may boast
Thou in repose hast laid his sleeping ghost;
I'll either live my dear Orestes' wife,
Or to untimely fate resign my life.
LEANDER, accustomed nightly to swim over the Hellespont to visit Hero, the priestess of Venus' temple, being at last hindered by storms from his wonted course, sends her the following epistle.
RECEIVE this letter from Leander, fraught
With service which he rather would have brought;
Read with a smile-and yet, if thou wouldst crown
My wiser wishes, read them with a frown.
That anger from thy kindness will proceed,
'Cause of Leander thou canst only read.
The seas rage high, and scarce could we prevail
With the most daring mariner to sail.
Embark'd at last, and skulking in the hold,
My stealth is to my jealous parents told,
As much too timorous they, as I too bold.
I writ, since writing was my sole relief,
And o'er the dewy sheets thus breathed my grief.
Bless'd letter, go, my tenderest thoughts convey,
To her warm lips thy signets she will lay,
And with a kiss dissolve thy seals away.
Seven tedious nights guiltless of sleep I've stood,
Sigh'd with the winds, and murmur'd with the flood;
Then climbing the utmost cliffs her coast to view,
My tears, like glasses, the object nearer drew:
20
By the adverse winds and waves detain'd on shore,
My thoughts ran all our former pleasures o'er,
And in soft lights of fancy re-enjoy
The scenes that did our infant loves employ.
'Twas night, (a curse on the impert'nent light
That pry'd and marr'd the pleasures of that night!)
When first I swam the ford; while Cynthia's beams
Look'd pale, and trembled for me in the streams.
My drooping arms, in hopes they shall at length
Embrace thy neck, feel fresh supplies of strength; 30
The wond'ring waves to their new fury yield;
Not tritons faster plough the liquid field.
Soon on the temple's spire your torch I spied, Fix'd like a star mid watery course to guide; Which, planetlike, shoots vigour through my veins: The warmth of my immortal love sustains, In the cold flood, life's perishing remains. But now the gentlest star that bless'd my way, Your bright self on the turret I survey. Then with redoubled strokes the waves divide, And by my Hero am at last described: Scarce could your careful confident restrain, But you would plunge and meet me in the main; And made so far your kind endeavours good, That ancle-deep on the ford's brink you stood; And seem'd the new risen Venus of the flood. The shore now gain'd, to your dear arms I flew, All dropping as I was with briny dew; Nor proved that a more unwelcome guest; Your warm lips to my bloodless cheek you press'd, 50 Nor felt my locks distilling on your breast. Your hasty robes are o'er my shoulders thrown; To shroud my shivering limbs, you stripp'd your
Forgetting how your too officious care
Left thee (my tenderest part) exposed to air.
At length the sickening stars began to expire,
And I with them am summon'd to retire.
Your woman chid that I so long delay'd;
You press'd me close, then ask'd me why I stay'd.
My stay you first reproved, and then my haste, 60
Nor cried farewell, till you had clasp'd me fast.
Day broke ere we our tender strife could end,
Then, sighing, I to the cold beach descend.
Trust me, the seas from your dear coasts seem steep,
And all the way methinks I climb the deep.
But when revisiting your shores, I seem
Descending still, and rather fall than swim;
I loathe my native soil, and only prize
That region where my love's dear treasure lies.
Why is not Sestos to Abydos join'd?
Since we united are in heart and mind.
The same our hopes, our fears, and our desires,
Love is our life, and one love both inspires.
But ah! what miseries on that love attend,
Whose joys on humorous seas and winds depend!
I by their quarrel lose, forced to delay
My tender visit, till they end the fray.
When first I cross'd the gulf, the dolphins gazed, The sea nymphs fled, the tritons were amazed. But now no more I seem a prodigy, But pass for an inhabitant o' the sea;
And since my passage is by storms withstood,
I'm nightly miss'd by the brothers of the flood.
Oft have I cursed the tedious way, but oh!
I wish in vain that tedious passage now.
Yield me again, kind floods, my tiresome way,
'Twas never half so tiresome as my stay.
Must then my halcyon love all winter sleep,
And ne'er launch forth into a troubled deep?
Must I desist my homage to perform,
And skulk at home for every peevish storm?
If thus the summer gusts detain my course,
How shall I through the winter surges force?
Absence even then I shall not long sustain,
But boldly plunge into the raging main;
And if the swelling floods not soon assuage,
I'll make my boasting good, and dare their rage.
My vent'rous 'scapes shall in your arms be bless'd,
Or if I'm lost, my anxious love find rest;
The waves at least will do my corse the grace 100
To waft if to my wonted landing-place:
Or of its own accord the armorous clay
Will thither float, nor lose so known a way!
I guess your kindness will ev'n then perform
To the cold trunk, what you were wont when warm;
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