Part 23

Serta, puer; quis nunc flores non praebeat hortus? Texe mihi facili pollice serta puer. Quid tu nescio quos narras mihi; stulte, Decembres Quid mihi cum nivibus? da mihi serta, puer. Nix et hiems? non est nostras quid tale per oras; Non est, vel si sit, non tamen esse potest. Ver agitur: quaecunque trucem dat larva Decembrem, Quid fera cunque fremant frigora, ver agitur. Nonne vides quali se palmite regia vitis Prodit, et in sacris quae sedet uva jugis? Tam laetis quae bruma solet ridere racemis? Quas hiemis pingit purpure tanta genas? O Maria, o divum soboles, genitrixque deorum, Siccine nostra tuus tempora ludus erunt? Siccine tu cum vere tuo nihil horrida brumae Sidera, nil madidos sola morare notos? Siccine sub media poterunt tua surgere bruma, Atque suas solum lilia nosse nives? Ergo vel invitis nivibus frendentibus Austris, Nostra novis poterunt regna tumere rosis? O bona turbatrix anni, quae limite noto Tempora sub signis non sinis ire suis; O pia praedatrix hiemis, quae tristia mundi Murmura tam dulci sub ditione tenes; Perge, precor, nostris vim pulchram ferre calendis; Perge, precor, menses sic numerare tuos. Perge intempestiva atque importuna videri; Inque uteri titulos sic rape cuncta tui. Sit nobis sit saepe hiemes sic cernere nostras Exhaeredatas floribus ire tuis. Saepe sit has vernas hiemes Maiosque Decembres, Has per te roseas saepe videre nives. Altera gens varium per sidera computet annum, Atque suos ducant per vaga signa dies: Nos deceat nimiis tantum permittere nimbis? Tempora tam tetricas ferre Britanna vices? Quin nostrum tibi nos omnem donabimus annum: In partus omnem expende, Maria, tuos. Sic tuus ille uterus nostri bonus arbiter anni: Tempus et in titulos transeat omne tuos. Namque alia indueret tam dulcia nomina mensis? Aut qua tam posset candidus ire toga? Hanc laurum Janus sibi vertice vellet utroque: Hanc sibi vel tota Chloride Maius emet. Tota suam, vere expulso, respublica florum Reginam cuperent te sobolemve tuam. O bona sors anni, cum cuncti ex ordine menses Hic mihi Carolides, hic Marianus erit!

TRANSLATION.

TO HER SERENE MAJESTY, CHILD-BEARING IN WINTER.

Garlands! bring garlands, boy! what garden now Would not give flowers? with ready hand do thou Weave garlands. What! December, sayst thou,--snow? Fool! hold thy blabbing, speak of what we know. Winter upon our shores, and snow? the thing Is not, and cannot be. It is the Spring: Whatever ghost threatens us with the drear Beatings of wild December, Spring is here. See'st thou not with what leaves the royal vine Spreads forth, what clusters on her boughs incline? Say, when like this was Winter ever seen To laugh and glow in purple? O great Queen, Offspring of gods, and mother! do we see The seasons thus a plaything made for thee? Thus with thy Spring mayst thou the stars restrain, That Winter sting not, nor the South bring rain. And do the lilies by thy grace alone Spring up, and know no snows except their own? In spite of all that Winter may oppose, Are thus our kingdoms blooming with the rose? O thou most blest disturber of the year, Who sufferest not the bounded seasons here To keep i' their own signs! destroyer kind Of Winter, whose sweet influence can bind All harsher murmurs of the world, still dare We pray thee, thus to force our calendar With thy fair violence; continue still The months to number at thine own sweet will; Still thus untimely, still thus burdensome, Make all things subject to thy royal womb. So, by thy grace, may it be often ours To see dethroned Winter deck'd in flowers; On snow that falls i' roses still to gaze, Sweet vernal Winters and December Mays! Let others by the stars compute their year, And count their days as wandering signs appear: Not so we Britons; not for us shall storm With cruel change our seasons dare deform; To thee, great Queen, our whole year we resign, O spend it all i' those rich births of thine! So the whole year shall own thy womb to be Its sovereign arbitress of good; in thee Merge all its titles. Where's the month could bear A more delicious name, or ever wear More whiteness? Janus, for his double crown, Covets this laurel; Maius for his own Would buy it, though his Chloris were the cost. Thee or thine infant, now that Spring has lost His ancient throne, the flow'ry states invite To take their empire. O blest year, how bright Thy fortunes, where each month in turn may claim From Mary or from Charles its mighty name! G.

AD REGINAM

ET SIBI ET ACADEMIAE PARTURIENTEM.[124]

Huc o sacris circumflua coetibus, Huc o frequentem, Musa, choris pedem Fer, annuo doctum labore Purpureas agitare cunas. Foecunditatem provocat, en, tuam Maria partu nobilis altero, Prolemque Musarum ministram Egregius sibi poscit infans. Nempe illa nunquam pignore simplici Sibive soli facta puerpera est: Partu repercusso, vel absens, Perpetuos procreat gemellos. Hos ipsa partus scilicet efficit, Inque ipsa vires carmina suggerit, Quae spiritum vitamque donat Principibus simul et Camaenis. Possit Camaenas, non sine numine, Lassare nostras diva puerpera, Et gaudiis siccare totam Perpetuis Heliconis undam. Quin experiri pergat, et in vices Certare sanctis conditionibus: Lis dulcis est, nec indecoro Pulvere, sic potuisse vinci. Alternis Natura diem meditatur et umbras, Hinc atro, hinc albo pignore facta parens. Tu melior Natura tuas, dulcissima, servas-- Sed quam dissimili sub ratione!--vices. Candida tu, et partu semper tibi concolor omni: Hinc natam, hinc natum das; sed utrinque diem.

TRANSLATION.

TO THE QUEEN.

Hither, Muse, and bring again Thy august surrounding train; With measur'd tread of practis'd feet Come, for thou hast learn'd to greet With the voice of loyal cheer A princely cradle year by year. Lo, our noble Queen on thee Calls in fruitful rivalry By another birth; and he, Illustrious infant, needs must have The Muses' offspring for his slave. Never has she yet been known A mother for herself alone, But by a reflected might Even in absence doth delight In twins ever, and while she Thus augments her progeny, And gives vigour to the lyre, She doth at once with life inspire Young princes, and the Muses' quire. These, though not untouch'd they be With the sacred flame, may she Tire in her fruitful deity, And with joys that theirs outrun, Dry at last all Helicon! Sweet is the strife wherein, to prove Her powers, she deigns by rule to move; Nor an unbecoming stain Is the dust that they must gain, Who in such contest can but fight in vain. Nature, o'er day and night alternate dreaming, Brings forth a swart child now, and now a fair: On thee attends, O Queen in beauty beaming, A better Nature, with a rule how rare! Bright as thyself, thine own tend all the selfsame way; A daughter now, and now a son; but each a child of Day. CL.

SERENISSIMAE REGINAE LIBRUM SUUM

COMMENDAT ACADEMIA.

Hunc quoque materna, nimium nisi magna rogamus, Aut aviae saltem sume, Maria, manu. Est Musa de matre recens rubicundulus infans, Cui pater est partus--quis putet?--ille tuus. Usque adeo impatiens amor est in virgine Musa: Jam nunc ex illo non negat esse parens. De nato quot habes olim sperare nepotes, Qui simul et pater est, et facit esse patrem!

TRANSLATION.

TO HER MOST SERENE MAJESTY

THE UNIVERSITY COMMENDS ITS BOOK.

Deign, Queen, to this, unless we ask too much, A mother's, or at least grandmother's, touch. It is the Muse's rosy infant fine; Its father--who would think?--this Child of thine. So unrestrain'd the love of virgin Muse, To be a mother thus she can't refuse. From _him_ what grandsons round thee soon will gather, Who at once father is, and makes a father! R. WI.

PRINCIPI RECENS NATAE

OMEN MATERNAE INDOLIS.[125]

Cresce, o dulcibus imputanda divis; O cresce, et propera, puella princeps, In matris propera venire partes. Et cum par breve fulminum minorum, Illinc Carolus, et Jacobus inde, In patris faciles subire famam, Ducent fata furoribus decoris; Cum terror sacer Anglicique magnum Murmur nominis increpabit omnem Late Bosporon Ottomanicasque Non picto quatiet tremore Lunas; Te tunc altera nec timenda paci Poscent praelia; tu potens pudici Vibratrix oculi, pios in hostes Late dulcia fata dissipabis. O eum flos tener ille, qui recenti Pressus sidere jam sub ora ludit, Olim fortior omne cuspidatos Evolvet latus aureum per ignes; Quique imbellis adhuc, adultus olim, Puris expatiabitur genarum Campis imperiosior Cupido; O quam certa superbiore penna Ibunt spicula melleaeque mortes, Exultantibus hinc et inde turmis, Quoquo jusseris, impigre volabunt! O quot corda calentium deorum De te vulnera delicata discent! O quot pectora principum magistris Fient molle negotium sagittis! Nam quae non poteris per arma ferri, Cui matris sinus atque utrumque sidus Magnorum patet officina amorum? Hinc sumas licet, o puella princeps, Quantacunque opus est tibi pharetra. Centum sume Cupidines ab uno Matris lumine Gratiasque centum Et centum Veneres: adhuc manebunt Centum mille Cupidines; manebunt Tercentum Veneresque Gratiaeque Puro fonte superstites per aevum.

TRANSLATION.

OF THE PRINCESS MARY.

Grow, maiden Princess, and increase, Thou who with the sweet goddesses Thy place shalt have; O haste to be Thy mother's own epitome; And when that pair of minor flames, Thy princely brothers Charles and James, Apt in the footsteps of their sire, Lead on the Fates in glorious ire; When o'er the Bosphorus shall creep A thrill of dread, as rolls full deep The murmur of the British name, And with no feign'd alarm shall shame The Turkish Crescent--other wars, And such as bring sweet Peace no tears Shall call thee forth; and from on high The flashing of thy modest eye Shall scatter o'er adoring foes Thick volleys of delicious woes. O, when that tender bloom which now Plays, lately born, beneath thy brow, In time to come with mightier blaze Shall dart around its pointed rays; When he, the Cupid now so mild, No longer but a harmless child, Shall range in youth's imperious pride Thy cheeks' fair pastures far and wide,-- O then with what unerring skill, Borne on proud wings, thy shafts shall kill, While, where thou bid'st, the honey'd blow Falls ceaseless midst the exulting foe! How many god-like breasts shall learn From thee with Love's rich wounds to burn! How often shall thy mastering darts Work their sweet will on princely hearts! For what may she not do in war, Whose mother's breast--with each bright star That rul'd her birth--to her but proves A storehouse of all-conquering loves? Hence for thy quiver, Princess Maid, Take what thou wilt, nor be afraid. A hundred Cupids be thy prize, From one of thy bright mother's eyes; A hundred graces add to these, And then a hundred Venuses: A hundred-thousand Cupids still Are hers; three hundred Graces will, With Venuses in equal store, Haunt that pure fount for evermore. CL.

IN NATALES MARIAE PRINCIPIS.[126]

Parce tuo jam, bruma ferox, o parce furori, Pone animos; o pacatae da spiritus aurae, Afflatu leniore gravem demulceat annum. Res certe et tempus meruit. Licet improbus Auster Saeviat, et rabido multum se murmure volvat; Imbriferis licet impatiens Notus ardeat alis; Hic tamen, hic certe, modo tu non, saeva, negares, Nec Notus impatiens jam, nec foret improbus Auster. Scilicet hoc decuit? dum nos tam lucida rerum Attollit series, adeo commune serenum Laetitiae vernisque animis micat alta voluptas; Jam torvas acies, jam squallida bella per auras Volvere, et hibernis annum corrumpere nimbis? Ah melius, quin luce novae reparata juventae Ipsa hodie vernaret hiems, pulchroque tumultu Purpureas properaret opes, effunderet omnes Laeta sinus, nitidumque diem fragrantibus horis Aeternum migrare velit, florumque beata Luxurie, tanta o circum cunabula surgat, Excipiatque novos et molliter ambiat artus. Quippe venit, sacris iterum vagitibus ingens Aula sonat, venit en roseo decus addita fratri Blanda soror. Tibi se brevibus, tibi porrigit ulnis, Magne puer, facili tibi torquet hiantia risu Ora; tibi molles lacrymas et nobile murmur Temperat, inque tuo ponit se pendula collo. Tale decus juncto veluti sub stemmate cum quis Dat sociis lucere rosis sua lilia. Talis Fulget honos medio cum se duo sidera mundo Dulcibus intexunt radiis: nec dignior olim Flagrabat nitidae felix consortio formae, Tunc cum sidereos inter pulcherrima fratres Erubuit primum, et Laedaeo cortice rupto Tyndarida explicuit tenerae nova gaudia frontis. Sic socium o miscete jubar, tu candide frater, Tuque serena soror. Sic o date gaudia patri, Sic matri cumque ille olim subeuntibus annis, Ire inter proprios magna cervice triumphos. Egregius volet, atque sua se discere dextra; Te quoque tum pleno mulcebit sidere, et alto Flore tui dulcesque oculos maturior ignis Indole divina, et radiis intinget honoris. Tunc o te quoties, nisi quod tu pulchrior illa, Esse suam Phoeben fulsus jurabit Apollo; Tunc o te quoties, nisi quod tu castior illa, Esse suam Venerem Mavors jurabit inanis. Felix, ah, et cui se non Mars, non aureus ipse Credet Apollo parem; tanta cui conjuge celsus In pulchros properare sinus, et carpere sacras Delicias oculosque tuos, tua basia solus Tum poterit dixisse sua; et se nectare tanto Dum probat esse Deum, superas contemnere mensas.

TRANSLATION.

ON THE BIRTHDAY OF THE PRINCESS MARY.

Forbear thy fury, Winter fierce, forbear; Lay down thy wrath, and let the tranquil air With inspiration mild soothe the stern year: This time deserves it, and occasion dear. The wild North-wind may rage and wildly bluster; The gusty South its rainy clouds may muster; Yet here at least, if thou but will it so, Neither wild North nor gusty South will blow. For were it seemly, when events so bright Exalt us, and the universal light Of joy and vernal pleasure thrills the soul, Grim lines of battling tempest-clouds should roll Through all the air, and drown the year with rain? Better old Winter should bright youth regain, And turn at once to Spring; with tumult sweet Hasten his purple stores, and joyful greet With all his outpour'd heart this shining Day, And bid its fragrant hours for ever stay; Making a radiant wealth of flowers abound Where in her cradle that sweet Child is found, Her tender limbs caress and softly compass round. She comes! Once more are heard those blessed cries Within the palace. See a glory rise-- A star-like glory added to the other, A charming sister to a rosy brother! To this she stretches out her tiny arms, Fair Boy--for thee displays the winsome charms Of her sweet smiles, and checks her gentle tears, And coos and prattles to delight thine ears, Or fondly hangs upon thy neck. Such grace Pleases the eye, when, their stalks joined, you place Lilies with roses to combine their splendour. And then appears such lustrous glory tender, When in the midst of heaven, at dewy eve, Two stars their gentle radiance interweave. Nor loftier grace that beauteous union show'd When from her egg the fairest Helen glow'd Betwixt her starry brothers, and display'd Her tender brow with new delights array'd. So mix your common beam, thou brother fair And sister mild. Such joys your father share And mother dear! And when, as seasons roll, He moves with head erect and princely soul Amid his proper triumphs, and shall learn Himself by his own deeds, thou shalt discern A riper flame within thee, heavenly dower, And star full-orb'd shalt shine, and full-grown flower; While a soft beauty bathes thy lustrous eyes, And rays of majesty the world surprise. Then O how oft, but that thou art more fair, Will some imaginary Phoebus swear That thou art his own Phoebe! or again But that thou art more chaste, some Mars in vain Will swear thou art his Venus, love's soft strain! Ah, happy he, to whom nor Mars will dream Nor golden Phoebus he can equal seem, Who with a wife so sweet, so fair is blest, And all the fond affection of thy breast, And tender, pure endearments; who alone Can call thy eyes and kisses all his own; And while he quaffs such nectar'd wine of love, Feels like a god, and scorns the feasts above. R. WI.

AD REGINAM.[127]

Et vero jam tempus erat tibi, maxima mater, Dulcibus his oculis accelerare diem: Tempus erat, ne qua tibi basia blanda vacarent; Sarcina ne collo sit minus apta tuo. Scilicet ille tuus, timor et spes ille suorum, 5 Quo primum es felix pignore facta parens, Ille ferox iras jam nunc meditatur et enses, Jam patris magis est, jam magis ille suus. Indolis o stimulos; vix dum illi transiit infans, Jamque sibi impatiens arripit ille virum. 10 Improbus ille suis adeo negat ire sub annis: Jam nondum puer est, major et est puero. Si quis in aulaeis pictas animatus in iras Stat leo, quem docta cuspide lusit acus, Hostis, io, est; neque enim ille alium dignabitur hostem; 15 Nempe decet tantas non minor ira manus. Tunc hasta gravis adversum furit; hasta bacillum est; Mox falsum vero vulnere pectus hiat. Stat leo, ceu stupeat tali bene fixus ab hoste, Ceu quid in his oculis vel timeat vel amet, 20 Tam torvum, tam dulce micant: nescire fatetur Mars ne sub his oculis esset, an esset amor. Quippe illic Mars est, sed qui bene possit amari; Est et amor certe, sed metuendus amor: Talis amor, talis Mars est ibi cernere; qualis 25 Seu puer hic esset, sive vir ille Deus. Hic tibi jam scitus succedit in oscula fratris; Res, ecce, in lusus non operosa tuos. Basia jam veniant tua quantacunque caterva; Jam quocunque tuus murmure ludat amor. 30 En, tibi materies tenera et tractabilis hic est; Hic ad blanditias est tibi cera satis. Salve infans, tot basiolis, molle argumentum, Maternis labiis dulce negotiolum; O salve; nam te nato, puer auree, natus 35 Et Carolo et Mariae tertius est oculus.

TRANSLATION.

TO THE QUEEN.

'Twas now the time for thee, Mother most great, With these sweet eyes the day to accelerate; Time thy soft kisses should not idle be, Or from fit burden thy fair neck be free. For he, his parents' fear and hope confest, With whom thou first wast made a mother blest, He wraths and swords designs, courageous grown; Now more his father's is, and more his own. O spurs of nature! yet an infant, see He catches at the man impatiently, The rogue declines to keep in his own years; Not yet a child, he more than child appears. If on the tapestry, with feign'd anger fraught, A lion stands, by skilful needle wrought, A foe behold; such foe to fight he deigns; A lesser wrath his mighty hand disdains. Fierce spear he brandishes; a wand his spear: Soon in false breast behold true wound appear. The lion stands, maz'd by such enemy, Fearing or loving something in his eye, So sternly, sweetly bright; nor can he tell Whether beneath that eye Mars or Love dwell. In sooth, a Mars who may be lov'd is here; And Love indeed, but Love deserving fear. Such Love, such Mars, 'tis easy here to scan; This god or that, as he is boy or man. Thy babe now comes to take the endearing place, A creature not beyond thy fond embrace. Now let thy troops of kisses have their way, Now let thy love with brooding murmur play; Here is material tractable and tender, Which waxen surface to soft touch shall render. Hail, infant! gentle subject for caresses, Employment sweet a mother's lips which blesses; O hail; for with thy birth, thou golden boy, Lo, to thy parents a third eye brings joy! R. WI.

VOTIVA DOMUS PETRENSIS

PRO DOMO DEI.[128]