Democritus Platonissans

Author:More, Henry [More, Henry]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Poetry
Publisher: manybooks.net

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Cupids Conflict.

Mela. Cleanthes.

Cl. Mela my dear! why been thy looks so sad As if thy gentle heart were sunk with care? Impart thy case; for be it good or bad Friendship in either will bear equall share. Mel. Not so; Cleanthes, for if bad it be My self must bleed afresh by wounding thee.

But what it is, my slow, uncertain wit Cannot well judge. But thou shalt sentence give How manfully of late my self I quit, When with that lordly lad by chance I strive: Cl. Of friendship Mela! let's that story hear. Mel. Sit down Cleanthes then, and lend thine ear.

Upon a day as best did please my mind Walking abroad amidst the verdant field Scattering my carefull thoughts i' th' wanton wind The pleasure of my path so farre had till'd My feeble feet that without timely rest Uneath it were to reach my wonted nest.

In secret shade farre moved from mortals sight In lowly dale my wandring limbs I laid On the cool grasse where Natures pregnant wit A goodly bower of thickest trees had made. Amongst the leaves the chearfull birds did fare And sweetly carrol'd to the echoing air.

Hard at my feet ran down a crystall spring Which did the cumbrous pebbles hoarsly chide For standing in the way. Though murmuring The broken stream his course did rightly guide And strongly pressing forward with disdain The grassie flore divided into twain.

The place a while did feed my foolish eye As being new, and eke mine idle ear Did listen oft to that wild harmonie And oft my curious phansie would compare How well agreed the Brooks low muttering Base, With the birds trebbles pearch'd on higher place.

But senses objects soon do glut the soul, Or rather weary with their emptinesse; So I, all heedlesse how the waters roll And mindlesse of the mirth the birds expresse, Into my self 'gin softly to retire After hid heavenly pleasures to enquire.

While I this enterprize do entertain; Lo! on the other side in thickest bushes A mighty noise! with that a naked swain With blew and purple wings streight rudely rushes. He leaps down light upon the flowry green, Like sight before mine eyes had never seen.

At's snowy back the boy a quiver wore Right fairly wrought and gilded all with gold. A silver bow in his left hand he bore, And in his right a ready shaft did hold. Thus armed stood he and betwixt us tway The labouring brook did break his toilsome way.

The wanton lad whose sport is others pain Did charge his bended bow with deadly dart, And drawing to the head with might and main, With fell intent he aim'd to hit my heart. But ever as he shot his arrows still In their mid course dropt down into the rill.

Of wondrous virtues that in waters been Is needlesse to rehearse, all books do ring Of those strange rarities. But ne're was seen Such virtue as resided in this spring. The novelty did make me much admire But stirr'd the hasty youth to ragefull ire.

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