Classic Poem

The Argument

The swo[u]nding Swaine recovered is
By th' Goddesse; his soule rapting blisse:
There mutuàll conference, and how
Her service she doth him allow.

1

Soft-sleeping Venus waked with the fall,
Looking behind, the sinking Boy espies,
With all she starts, and wondereth withall,
She thinkes that there her faire Adonis dyes,
And more she thinkes the more the Boy she eyes:
 So stepping neerer, up begins to reare him;
 And now with love himselfe she will confer him,
 And now, before her love himselfe she will preferre him.

2

The Lad soone with that dainty touch reviv'd
Feeling himselfe so well, so sweetly seated,
Begins to doubt whether he yet here liv'd,
Or else his flitting soule to heav'n translated,
Was there in starry throne, and blisse instated:
 Oft would he dye, so to be often saved;
 And now with happy wish he closly craved,
 For ever to be dead, to be so sweet ingraved.

3

The Paphian Princesse (in whose lovely breast,
Spitefull disdaine could never find a place)
When now she saw him from his fit releast,
(To Juno leaving wrath, and scolding base)
Comforts the trembling Boy with smiling grace,
 But oh! those smiles (too full of sweete delight)
 Surfeit his heart, full of the former sight;
 So seeking to revive, more wounds his feeble sprite.

4

Tell me faire Boy (sayd she) what erring chance,
Hither directed thy unwary pace:
For sure contempt, or pride durst not advance
Their foule aspect, in thy so pleasant face:
Tell me, what brought thee to this hidden place?
 Or lacke of love, or mutuall answering fire,
 Or hindred by ill chance in thy desire:
 Tell me, what ist thy faire and wishing eyes require?

5

The Boy (whose sence was never yet acquainted
With such a musique) stood with eares arected;
And sweetly with that pleasant spell enchanted,
More of those sugred straines long time expected,
Till seeing she his speeches not rejected,
 First sighes arising from his hearts low center,
 Thus gan reply; when each word bold would venter,
 And strive the first, that dainty labyrinth to enter,

6

Faire Cyprian Queene (for well that heavenly face
Prooves thee the mother of all conquering love)
Pardon I pray thee my unweeting pace,
For no presumptuous thoughts did hither moove
My daring feete, to this thy holy Grove;
 But lucklesse chance (which if you not gaine-say,
 I still must rue) hath caus'd me here to stray,
 And lose my selfe (alas) in losing of my way.

7

Nor did I come to right my wronged fire,
Never till now I saw what ought be loved,
And now I see, but never dare aspire
To moove my hope, where yet my love is mooved;
Whence though I would, I would it not remooved:
 Onely since I have plac't my love so high,
 Which sure thou must, or sure thou wilt deny,
 Grant me yet still to love, though in my love to dye.

8

But shee that in his eyes Loves face had seene,
And flaming heart, did not such suite disdaine,
(For cruelty fits not sweete beauties Queene)
But gently could his passion entertaine,
Though she loves Princesse, he a lowly Swaine:
 First of his bold intrusion she acquites him;
 Then to her service (happy Boy) admits him;
 And like another love, with Bow and quiver fits him.

9

And now [with all] the loves he grew acquainted,
And Cupids selfe, with his like face delighted,
Taught him a hundred wayes with which he daunted
The prouder hearts, and wronged lovers righted,
Forcing to love, that most his love despited.
 And now the practique Boy did so approove him,
 And with such grace and cunning arte did moove him,
 That all the pritty loves, and all the Graces love him.