Hero and Leander and Other Poems | Page 2

been black.?Amorous Leander, beautiful and young,?(Whose tragedy divine Mus?us sung,)?Dwelt at Abydos; since him dwelt there none?For whom succeeding times make greater moan.?His dangling tresses, that were never shorn,?Had they been cut, and unto Colchos borne,?Would have allur'd the venturous youth of Greece?To hazard more than for the golden fleece.?Fair Cynthia wish'd his arms might be her sphere;?Grief makes her pale, because she moves not there.?His body was as straight as Circe's wand;?Jove might have sipt out nectar from his hand.?Even as delicious meat is to the tast,?So was his neck in touching, and surpast?The white of Pelops' shoulder: I could tell ye,?How smooth his breast was, and how white his belly;?And whose immortal fingers did imprint?That heavenly path with many a curious dint?That runs along his back; but my rude pen?Can hardly blazon forth the loves of men,?Much less of powerful gods: let it suffice?That my slack Muse sings of Leander's eyes;?Those orient cheeks and lips, exceeding his?That leapt into the water for a kiss?Of his own shadow, and, despising many,?Died ere he could enjoy the love of any.?Had wild Hippolytus Leander seen,?Enamour'd of his beauty had he been:?His presence made the rudest peasant melt,?That in the vast uplandish country dwelt;?The barbarous Thracian soldier, mov'd with nought,?Was mov'd with him, and for his favour sought.?Some swore he was a maid in man's attire,?For in his looks were all that men desire,--?A pleasant-smiling cheek, a speaking eye,?A brow for love to banquet royally;?And such as knew he was a man, would say,?"Leander, thou art made for amorous play:?Why art thou not in love, and lov'd of all??Though thou be fair, yet be not thine own thrall."?The men of wealthy Sestos every year,?For his sake whom their goddess held so dear,?Rose-cheek'd Adonis, kept a solemn feast:?Thither resorted many a wandering guest?To meet their loves: such as had none at all,?Came lovers home from this great festival;?For every street, like to a firmament,?Glister'd with breathing stars, who, where they went,?Frighted the melancholy earth, which deem'd?Eternal heaven to burn, for so it seem'd,?As if another Pha?ton had got?The guidance of the sun's rich chariot.?But, far above the loveliest, Hero shin'd,?And stole away th' enchanted gazer's mind;?For like sea nymphs' inveigling harmony,?So was her beauty to the standers by;?Nor that night-wandering, pale, and watery star?(When yawning dragons draw her thirling car?From Latmus' mount up to the gloomy sky,?Where, crown'd with blazing light and majesty,?She proudly sits) more over-rules the flood?Than she the hearts of those that near her stood.?Even as when gaudy nymphs pursue the chase,?Wretched Ixion's shaggy-footed race,?Incens'd with savage heat, gallop amain?From steep pine-bearing mountains to the plain,?So ran the people forth to gaze upon her,?And all that view'd her were enamour'd on her:?And as in fury of a dreadful fight,?Their fellows being slain or put to flight,?Poor soldiers stand with fear of death dead-strooken,?So at her presence all surpris'd and tooken,?Await the sentence of her scornful eyes;?He whom she favours lives; the other dies:?There might you see one sigh; another rage;?And some, their violent passions to assuage?Compile sharp satires; but, alas, too late!?For faithful love will never turn to hate;?And many, seeing great princes were denied,?Pin'd as they went, and thinking on her died.?On this feast-day,--O cursed day and hour!--?Went Hero thorough Sestos, from her tower?To Venus' temple, where unhappily,?As after chanc'd, they did each other spy.?So fair a church as this had Venus none:?The walls were of discolour'd jasper-stone,?Wherein was Proteus carv'd; and over-head?A lively vine of green sea-agate spread,?Where by one hand light-headed Bacchus hung,?And with the other wine from grapes out-wrung.?Of crystal shining fair the pavement was;?The town of Sestos call'd it Venus' glass:?There might you see the gods, in sundry shapes,?Committing heady riots, incest, rapes;?For know, that underneath this radiant flour?Was Dan?e's statue in a brazen tower;?Jove slily stealing from his sister's bed,?To dally with Idalian Ganymed,?And for his love Europa bellowing loud,?And tumbling with the Rainbow in a cloud;?Blood-quaffing Mars heaving the iron net?Which limping Vulcan and his Cyclops set;?Love kindling fire, to burn such towns as Troy;?Silvanus weeping for the lovely boy?That now is turn'd into a cypress-tree,?Under whose shade the wood-gods love to be.?And in the midst a silver altar stood:?There Hero, sacrificing turtle's blood,?Vail'd to the ground, veiling her eyelids close;?And modestly they open'd as she rose:?Thence flew Love's arrow with the golden head;?And thus Leander was enamoured.?Stone-still he stood, and evermore he gaz'd,?Till with the fire, that from his countenance blaz'd,?Relenting Hero's gentle heart was strook:?Such force and virtue hath an amorous look.?It lies not in our power to love or hate,?For will in us is over-rul'd by fate.?When two are stript long ere the course begin,?We wish that one should lose, the other win;?And one especially do we affect?Of two gold ingots, like in each respect:?The reason no man knows; 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