William Cowper- Collected Poetical Works

by William Cowper

  Godlike in its kind as thou?

  ON A BATH, BY PLATO

  Did Cytherea to the skies

  From this pellucid lymph arise?

  Or was it Cytherea’s touch,

  When bathing here, that made it such?

  ON PALLAS BATHING, FROM A HYMN OF CALLIMACHUS

  Nor oils of balmy scene produce,

  Nor mirror for Minerva’s use,

  Ye nymphs who lave her; she, array’d

  In genuine beauty, scorns their aid.

  Not even when they left the skies,

  To seek on Ida’s head the prize

  From Paris’ hand, did Juno deign,

  Or Pallas in the crystal plain

  Of Simois’ stream her locks to trace,

  Or in the mirror’s polished face,

  Though Venus oft with anxious care

  Adjusted twice a single hair.

  FROM MENANDER

  Fond youth! who dream’st that hoarded gold

  Is needful not alone to pay

  For all thy various items sold,

  To serve the wants of every day;

  Bread, vinegar, and oil, and meat,

  For savory viands season’d high;

  But somewhat more important yet —

  I tell thee what it cannot buy.

  No treasure hadst thou more amass’d

  Than fame to Tantalus assign’d,

  Would save thee from a tomb at last,

  But thou must leave it all behind.

  I give thee, therefore, counsel wise;

  Confide not vainly in thy store,

  However large — much less despise

  Others comparatively poor;

  But in thy more exalted state

  A just and equal temper show

  That all who see thee rich and great,

  May deem thee worthy to be so.

  ON LATE ACQUIRED WEALTH

  Poor in my youth, and in life’s later scenes

  Rich to no end, I curse my natal hour,

  Who nought enjoy’d while young, denied the means;

  And nought when old enjoy’d, denied the power.

  ON FLATTERERS

  No mischief worthier of our fear

  In nature can be found

  Than friendship, in ostent sincere,

  But hollow and unsound,

  For lull’d into a dangerous dream

  We close infold a foe,

  Who strikes, when most secure we seem,

  The inevitable blow.

  ON A TRUE FRIEND

  Hast thou a friend? thou hast indeed

  A rich and large supply.

  Treasure to serve your every need,

  Well managed, till you die.

  ON INVALIDS

  Far happier are the dead, methinks, than they

  Who look for death, and fear it every day.

  ON THE ASTROLOGERS

  The astrologers did all alike presage

  My uncle’s dying in extreme old age;

  One only disagreed. But he was wise,

  And spoke not till he heard the funeral cries.

  ON AN OLD WOMAN

  Mycilla dyes her locks, ’tis said:

  But ’tis a foul aspersion;

  She buys them black; they therefore need

  No subsequent immersion.

  TO DEMOSTHENES

  It flatters and deceives thy view,

  This mirror of ill-polish’d ore;

  For, were it just, and told thee true,

  Thou wouldst consult it never more.

  ON A SIMILAR CHARACTER

  You give your cheks a rosy stain,

  With washes dye your hair;

  But paint and washes both are vain

  To give a youthful air.

  Those wrinkles mock your daily toil,

  No labor will efface ‘em,

  You wear a mask of smoothest oil,

  Yet still with ease we trace ‘em.

  An art so fruitless then forsake,

  Which though you much excel in,

  You never can contrive to make

  Old Hecuba young Helen.

  ON A BATTERED BEAUTY

  Hair, wax, rouge, honey, teeth you buy,

  A multifarious store!

  A mask at once would all supply

  Nor would it cost you more.

  ON AN UGLY FELLOW

  Beware, my friend! of crystal brook,

  Or fountain, lest that hideous hook,

  Thy nose, thou chance to see;

  Narcissus’ fate would then be thine,

  And self-detested thou wouldst pine,

  As self-enamour’d he.

  ON A THIEF

  When Aulus, the nocturnal thief, made prize

  Of Hermes, swift-wing’d envoy of the skies,

  Hermes, Arcadia’s king, the thief divine,

  Who when an infant stole Apollo’s kine,

  And whom, as arbiter and overseer

  Of our gymnastic sports, we planted here;

  ‘Hermes,’ he cried, ‘you meet no new disaster

  Ofttimes the pupil goes beyond the master.’

  ON ENVY

  Pity, says the Theban bard,

  From my wishes I discard;

  Envy, let me rather be,

  Rather far, a theme for thee.

  Pity to distress is shown.

  Envy to the great alone —

  So the Theban — But to shine

  Less conspicuous be mine!

  I prefer the golden mean,

  Pomp and penury between;

  For alarm and peril wait

  Ever on the loftiest state

  And the lowest to the end

  Obloquy and scorn attend.

  ON PEDIGREE. FROM EPICHARMUS

  My mother! if thou love me, name no more

  My noble birth! Sounding at every breath

  My noble birth, thou kill’st me. Thither fly,

  As to their only refuge, all from whom

  Nature withholds all good besides; they boast

  Their noble birth, conduct us to the tombs

  Of their forefathers, and, from age to age

  Ascending, trumpet their illustrious race:

  But whom hast thou beheld, or canst thou name,

  Derived from no forefathers? Such a man

  Lives not; for how could such be born at all?

  And, if it chance that, native of a land

  Far distant, or in infancy deprived

  Of all his kindred, one, who cannot trace

  His origin, exist, why deem him sprung

  From baser ancestry than theirs who can?

  My mother! he whom nature at his birth

  Endow’d with virtuous qualities, although

  An Æthiop and a slave, is nobly born.

  BY PHILEMON

  Oft we embrace our ills by discontent,

  And give them bulk beyond what nature meant.

  A parent, brother, friend deceased, to cry —

  ‘He’s dead indeed, but he was born to die’ —

  Such temperate grief is suited to the size

  And burden of the loss; is just and wise.

  But to exclaim, ‘Ah! wherefore was I born,

  Thus to be left forever thus forlorn?’

  Who thus laments his loss invites distress,

  And magnifies a woe that might be less,

  Through dull despondence to his lot resign’d,

  And leaving reason’s remedy behind.

  BY MOSCHUS

  I slept when Venus enter’d: to my bed

  A Cupid in her beauteous hand she led,

  A bashful seeming boy, and thus she said:

  ‘Shepherd, receive my little one! I bring

  An untaught love, whom thou must teach to sing.’

  She said, and left him. I, suspecting nought,

  Many a sweet strain my subtle pupil taught,

  How reed to reed Pan first with osier bound,

  How Pallas form’d the pipe
of softest sound,

  How Hermes gave the lute, and how the quire

  Of Phoebus owe to Phoebus’ self the lyre.

  Such were my themes; my themes nought heeded he

  But ditties sang of amorous sort to me.

  The pangs that mortals and immortals prove

  From Venus’ influence and the darts of love.

  Thus was the teacher by the pupil taught;

  His lessons I retain’d, he mine forgot.

  AN EPIGRAM FROM HOMER

  Pay me my price, potters! and I will sing.

  Attend, O Pallas! and with lifted arm

  Protect their oven; let the cups and all

  The sacred vessels black well, and, baked

  With good success, yield them both fair renown

  And profit, whether in the market sold

  Or streets, and let no strife ensue between us.

  But, oh ye potters! if with shameless front

  Ye falsify your promise, then I leave

  No mischief uninvoked to avenge the wrong.

  Come, Syntrips, Smaragus, Sabactes, come,

  And Asbetus, nor let your direst dread,

  Omodamus, delay! Fire seize your house,

  May neither house nor vestibule escape,

  May ye lament to see confusion mar

  And mingle the whole labor of your hands,

  And may a sound fill all your oven, such

  As of a horse grinding his provender,

  While all your pots and flagons bounce within.

  Come hither, also, daughter of the sun,

  Circe the sorceress, and with thy drugs

  Poison themselves, and all that they have made

  Of centaurs, as well those who died beneath

  The club of Hercules, as who escaped,

  And stamp their crockery to dust; down fall

  Their chimney; let them see it with their eyes

  And howl to see the ruin of their art,

  While I rejoice; and if a potter stoop

  To peep into his furnace, may the fire

  Flash in his face and scorch it, that all men

  Observe, thenceforth, equity and good faith.

  TRANSLATION OF PRIOR’S CHLOE AND EUPHELIA

  Mercator, vigiles oculos ut fallere possit,

  Nomine sub ficto trans mare mittit opes;

  Lenè sonat liquidumque meis Euphelia chordis,

  Sed solam exoptant te, mea vota, Chloë.

  Ad speculum ornabat nitidos Euphelia crines,

  Cum dixit mea lux, heus, cane, sume, lyram.

  Namque lyram juxta positam cum carmine vidit,

  Suave quidem carmen dulcisonamque lyram.

  Fila lyræ vocemque paro, suspiria surgunt,

  Et miscent numeris mumura mœsta meis,

  Dumque tuæ memoro laudes, Euphelia formæ,

  Tota anima interea pendet ab ore Chloës.

  Subrubet illa pudore, et contrahit altera frontem,

  Me torquet mea mens conscia, psallo, tremo;

  Atque Cupidineâ dixit Dea cincta coronâ,

  Heu! fallendi artem quam didicere parum.

  TRANSLATION OF DRYDEN’S POEM ON MILTON.

  Tres tria, sed longe distantia, saecula vates

  Ostentant tribus e gentibus eximios.

  Graecia sublimem, cum majestate disertum

  Roma tulit, felix Anglia utrique parem.

  Partubus ex binis Natura exhausta, coacta est,

  Tertis ut fieret, consociare duos.

  TRANSLATION OF A SIMILE IN PARADISE LOST.

  Quales aerii montis de vertice nubes

  Cum surgunt, et jam Boreae tumida ora quierunt,

  Caelum hilares abdit spissa caligine vultus,

  Nimbosumque nives aut imbres cogitat aether:

  Tum si jucundo tandem sol prodeat ore,

  Et croceo montes et pascua lumine tingat,

  Gaudent omnia, aves mulcent concentibus agros,

  Balatuque ovium colles vallesque resultant.

  A SIMILE LATINISED.

  Sors adversa gerit stimulum, sed tendit et alas:

  Pungit api similis, sed velut ista fugit.

  Translations from the Fables of Gay

  CONTENTS

  LEPUS MULTIS AMICUS.

  AVARUS ET PLUTUS.

  PAPILIO ET LIMAX.

  LEPUS MULTIS AMICUS.

  Lusus amicitia est, uni nisi dedita, ceu fit,

  Simplice ni nexus fœdere, lusus amor.

  Incerto genitore puer, non sæpe paternæ

  Tutamen novit, deliciasque domûs:

  Quique sibi fidos fore multos sperat, amicus

  Mirum est huic misero si ferat ullus opem.

  Comis erat, mitisque, et nolle et velle paratus

  Cum quovis, Gaii more modoque, Lepus.

  Ille, quot in sylvis et quot spatiantur in agris

  Quadrupedes, nôrat conciliare sibi;

  Et quisque innocuo, invitoque lacessere quenquam

  Labra tenus saltem fidus amicus erat.

  Ortum sub lucis dum pressa cubilia linquit,

  Rorantes herbas, pabula sueta, petens,

  Venatorum audit clangores ponè sequentem,

  Fulmineumque sonum territus erro fugit.

  Corda pavor pulsat, sursum sedet, erigit aures,

  Respicit, et sentit jam prope adesse necem.

  Utque canes fallat latè circumvagus, illuc,

  Unde abiit, mirâ calliditate redit;

  Viribus at fractis tandem se projicit ultro

  In mediâ miserum semianimemque viâ.

  Vix ibi stratus, equi sonitum pedis audit, et, oh spe

  Quam lætâ adventu cor agitatur equi!

  Dorsum (inquit) mihi, chare, tuum concede, tuoque

  Auxilio nares fallere, vimque canum.

  Me meus, ut nosti, pes prodit — fidus amicus

  Fert quodcunque, lubens, nec grave sentit, onus.

  Belle, miselle lepuscule, (equus respondet) amara

  Omnia quæ tibi sunt, sunt et amara mihi.

  Verum age — sume animos — multi, me pone, bonique

  Adveniunt, quorum sis citò salvus ope.

  Proximus armenti dominus bos solicitatus

  Auxilium his verbis se dare posse negat:

  Quando quadrupedum, quot vivunt, nullus amicum

  Me nescire potest usque fuisse tibi,

  Libertate æquus, quam cedit amicus amico,

  Utar, et absque metu ne tibi displiceam;

  Hinc me mandat amor. Juxta istum messis acervum

  Me mea, præ cunctis chara, juvenca manet;

  Et quis non ultro quæcunque negotia linquit,

  Pareat ut dominæ cum vocat ipsa suæ?

  Nec me crudelem dicas — discedo — sed hircus,

  Cujus ope effugias integer, hircus adest.

  Febrem (ait hircus) habes. Heu, sicca ut lumina languent!

  Utque caput, collo deficiente, jacet!

  Hirsutum mihi tergum; et forsan læserit ægrum,

  Vellere eris melius fultus, ovisque venit.

  Me mihi fecit onus natura, ovis inquit, anhelans

  Sustineo lanæ pondera tanta meæ;

  Me nec velocem nec fortem jacto, solentque

  Nos etiam sævi dilacerare canes.

  Ultimus accedit vitulus, vitulumque precatur,

  Ut periturum alias ocyus eripiat.

  Remne ergo, respondet vitulus, suscepero tantam,

  Non depulsus adhuc ubere, natus heri?

  Te, quem maturi canibus validique relinquunt,

  Incolumem potero reddere parvus ego?

  Præterea tollens quem illi aversantur, amicis

  Forte parum videar consuluisse meis.

  Ignoscas oro. Fidissima dissociantur

  Corda, et tale tibi sat liquet esse meum.

  Ecce autem ad calces canis est! te quanta perempto

  Tristitia est nobis ingruitura! — Vale!

  AVARUS ET PLUTUS.

  Icta fenestra Euri flatu stridebat, avarus

  Ex
somno trepidus surgit, opumque memor.

  Lata silenter humi ponit vestigia, quemque

  Respicit ad sonitum, respiciensque tremit;

  Angustissima quæque foramina lampade visit,

  Ad vectes, obices, fertque refertque manum.

  Dein reserat crebris junctam compagibus arcam

  Exultansque omnes conspicit intus opes.

  Sed tandem furiis ultricibus actus ob artes

  Queis sua res tenuis creverat in cumulum.

  Contortis manibus nunc stat, nunc pectora pulsans

  Aurum execratur, perniciemque vocat;

  O mihi, ait, misero mens quam tranquilla fuisset,

  Hoc celasset adhuc si modo terra malum!

  Nunc autem virtus ipsa est venalis; et aurum

  Quid contra vitii tormina sæva valet?

  O inimicum aurum? O homini infestissima pestis;

  Cui datur illecebras vincere posse tuas?

  Aurum homines suasit contemnere quicquid honestum est,

  Et præter nomen nil retinere boni.

  Aurum cuncta mali per terras semina sparsit;

  Aurum nocturnis furibus arma dedit.

  Bella docet fortes, timidosque ad pessima ducit,

  Fœdifragas artes, multiplicesque dolos,

  Nec vitii quicquam est, quod non inveneris ortum

  Ex malesuadâ auri sacrilegâque fame.

  Dixit, et ingemuit; Plutusque suum sibi numen

  Ante oculos, irâ fervidus, ipse stetit.

  Arcam clausit avarus, et ora horrentia rugis

  Ostendens; tremulum sic Deus increpuit.

  Questibus his raucis mihi cur, stulte, obstrepis aures?

  Ista tui similis tristia quisque canit.

  Commaculavi egone humanum genus, improbe? Culpa,

  Dum rapis, et captas omnia, culpa tua est.

  Mene execrandum censes, quia tam pretiosa

  Criminibus fiunt perniciosa tuis?