Classic Poem

The man, who watch'd each orb that gilds the skies;
That knew why planets set, and why they rise;
Could tell what cause obscures the solar blaze;
Why stars, in certain seasons, hide their rays;
Why, under Latmos' peak, the silver Queen
Steals to her loves, and quits the blue serene;
That very Conon, from yon spangled height,
Has oft beheld me mid the host of night;
Beheld me stream along the liquid air,
A radiant lock of Berenice's hair;
Which the fond queen, with hands uplifted, vow'd
A welcome off'ring to each fav'ring god,
When to the conquest of Assyria's land
Her raptur'd consort led his martial band,
And, proud of virgin spoils, he bore away
The blushing trophies of the am'rous fray.

But, is it, Venus, with unfeigned hate
That tender brides lament their bridal state?
Their parents' dawning hopes with grief to wound,
Do not false tears bedew the bed around?
So may Jove help me, as I here protest
That sorrow's feign'd which wets their throbbing breast!
My queen's sad plaints can vouch this solemn truth,
When war, unpitying, call'd away the youth:
She wept; but not a husband did she mourn;
She joy'd in him; she wept a brother gone.
A brother's loss her inmost soul subdu'd;
Him, only him, her frantic mind pursu'd;
And yet, for well I know thy earliest year,
I thought thee, Berenice, manlier far.
Hast thou forgot that deed, surpass'd by none,
Which gain'd a husband's love, which gain'd a throne?
And when thyself, to his best honour true,
Bade thy lov'd warrior take his last adieu;
While thy fair hand wip'd off the frequent tear,
Ye gods, what noble language did I hear?
Then say, to all things but thy brother blind,
What pow'r hath chang'd the firmness of thy mind?
Perhaps 'tis nature's fault, who thinks it wrong
That souls congenial should be absent long:
Hence bullocks bled, hence frequent vows preferr'd,
That each kind deity might watch thy lord,
Speed his return, with triumph crown his stay,
And subject Asian realms to Egypt's sway:
This once obtain'd, amid the stars I shine,
Absolving all thy oaths, a new made sìgn!
But, by that head, by thy bright self I swear,
'Twas with regret I left a seat so fair;
And let no mortal this fond truth deny,
Or may just heav'n reward his perjury!

Say, who can steel's resistless force withstand?
The loftiest mount of Macedonia's land
Was bow'd by steel; whilst onward to the shore
Thya's fam'd sons the rushing billows bore;
Whilst youthful Medes dar'd the new-bursting flood,
And foreign vessels rode where Athos stood.
Then since fell steel can things like these subdue,
What could weak hairs against its fury do?
O, may Jove's dreaded curse, and endless hate
The impious race of Chalybes await!
They who first dar'd explore the hated earth,
And gave to harden'd steel its fatal birth.

My sister locks ne'er ceas'd my loss to mourn:
What time the offspring of the roseate Morn,
The light-wing'd Zephyrus, by Flora lov'd,
O'er fields of air on trembling pinions mov'd;
Swift to Arsinoë urg'd his rapid flight,
And thence convey'd me thro' the gloom of night,
To these bright realms of æther pure convey'd,
Then in the bosom of chaste Venus laid:
For, such the mandate to her am'rous slave
Which, on Canopus' banks, young Flora gave;
That not distinguish'd in the heav'ns alone
Should shine refulgent Ariadne's crown;
But that the yellow tresses of my fair,
Sacred to love, might gild th' illumin'd air.

Me, bath'd with parting tears, the goddess hung
A novel star the ancient stars among;
Not far remov'd from fair Calisto's beam,
I near the Virgin, near the Lion gleam;
And reach the west, long ere Bootes laves
His loit'ring axle in the briny waves:
Tho' trod each night beneath the gods' proud feet,
Each morn I fly to Tethys' cool retreat.
But let me, Nemesis, this truth reveal;
For truth no fear shall urge me to conceal;
Even tho' each star, with malediction loud,
Should warn me not to whisper it abroad:
Know then, such honours have no charms for me,
Since, o lov'd mistress, I'm remov'd from thee!
I, on whom once unnumber'd sweets were shed,
Sweets that ne'er dew'd thee when a blooming maid.

And you, young brides, whom wish'd delights employ,
Whom Hymen's torch now lights to wedded joy!
Let not your husbands press your latent charms,
Nor bare your bosoms to their circling arms;
Ere to my beams the onyx vasc shall pour
A due libation from its perfum'd store;
Such as alone the virtuous fair bestow
Who keep inviolate their nuptial vow:
For learn, those vile libations I disdain,
Where lawless deeds the marriage bed profane;
Let these neglected on the earth be thrown;
I scorn the giver, and the gift disown.

With you, chaste brides, may concord ever dwell;
O'er your pure lives may tenderest bliss prevail!
And thou, fair princess, lifting thy sweet eyes
To the bright orbs that gild these sapphire skies,
With solemn rites invoke love's pitying Queen;
No bleeding victim must her altar stain;
With vows implore my wish'd return to thee;
With costly off'rings bribe the deity!

Ye envious planets, why my flight detain?
O, let me grace that royal head again!
Then may Orion with Aquarius shine;
Beam as ye list, proud stars, I'll not repine!