Part 16

Twelve times the _Moon_ has borrow’d Rays; that Night Might favour Lovers stealths by Glimmering Light: Since I imbarqu’d on the inconstant Seas With people of all Ages and Degrees, All well dispos’d and absolutely bent, To visit a far Country call’d _Content_. The Sails were hoisted, and the Streamers spread, And chearfully we cut the yielding Floud; Calm was the Sea, and peaceful every Wind, As if the Gods had with our Wishes joyn’d To make us prosperous; All the whispering Air Like Lovers Joys, was soft, and falsly fair. The ruffling Winds were hush’d in wanton sleep, And all the Waves were silenc’d in the deep: No threatning Cloud, no angry Curl was found, But bright, serene, and smooth, ‘twas all around: But yet believe false _Iris_ if she weep, Or Amorous _Layis_ will her promise keep, Before the Sea that Flatters with a Calm, Will cease to ruin with a rising Storm; For now the Winds are rows’d, the Hemisphere Grows black, and frights the hardy Mariner, The Billows all into Disorder hurl’d, As if they meant to bury all the World; And least the Gods on us should pity take, They seem’d against them, too, a War to make. Now each affrighted to his Cabin Flyes, And with Repentance Load the angry Skyes; Distracted Prayers they all to Heaven Address, While Heaven best knows, they think of nothing less; To quit their Interest in the World’s their fear, Not whether,--but to go,--is all their Care, And while to Heav’n their differing crimes they mount, Their vast disorders doubles the account; All pray, and promise fair, protest and weep, And make those Vows they want the pow’r to keep, And sure with some the angry Gods were pleas’d; For by degrees their Rage and Thunder ceas’d: In the rude War no more the Winds engage, And the destructive Waves were tir’d with their own Rage; Like a young Ravisher, that has won the day, O’re-toil’d and Panting, Calm and Breathless lay, While so much Vigour in the Incounter’s lost, They want the pow’r a second Rape to Boast. The Sun in Glory daignes again t’ appear; } But we who had no Sense, but that of fear, } Cou’d scarce believe, and lessen our dispair. } Yet each from his imagin’d Grave gets out, And with still doubting Eyes looks round about. Confirm’d they all from Prayer to Praises hast, And soon forgot the sense of dangers past; And now from the recruited Top-mast spy’d, An Island that discover’d Natures Pride: To which was added, all that Art could do To make it Tempting and Inviting too; All wondering Gaz’d upon the happy place, But none knew either where, or what it was: Some thought, th’.naccessible Land ‘t had been, And others that Inchantment they had seen, At last came forth a Man, who long before Had made a Voyage to that fatal shoar, Who with his Eyes declin’d, as if dismaid, At sight of what he dreaded: Thus he said.--

_This is the Coast of_ Africa, _Where all things sweetly move;_ _This is the Calm_ Atlantick _Sea,_ _And that the_ Isle of Love;

_To which all Mortals Tribute pay,_ _Old, Young, the Rich and Poor;_ _Kings do their awful Laws obey,_ _And Shepherds do Adore._

_There’s none its forces can resist,_ _Or its Decrees Evince,_ _It Conquers where, and whom it list,_ _The_ Cottager _and_ Prince.

_In entering here, the King resigns,_ _The Robe and Crown he wore;_ _The Slave new Fetters gladly joyns_ _To those he dragg’d before._

_All thither come, early or late,_ _Directed by Desire,_ _Not Glory can divert their fate,_ _Nor quench the Amorous fire._

_The Enterances on every side,_ _Th’. Attracts _and_ Beauties _Guard,_ _The_ Graces _with a wanton Pride,_ _By turn secure the Ward._

_The God of Love has lent ‘em Darts,_ _With which they gently Greet,_ _The heedless undefended Hearts_ _That pass the fatal Gate._

_None e’re escapt the welcom’d blow,_ _Which ner’e is sent in vain;_ _They Kiss the Shaft, and Bless the Foe,_ _That gives the pleasing Pain._

Thus whilst we did this grateful story learn, We came so near the Shoar, as to discern The Place and Objects, which did still appear More Ravishing, approaching ‘em more near. There the vast Sea, with a smooth calmness flows As are the Smiles on happy Lovers Brows: As peaceably as Rivulets it glides, Imbracing still the shaded Islands sides; And with soft Murmurs on the Margent flows, As if to Nature it design’d Repose; Whose Musick still is answer’d by the Breeze, That gently plays with the soft rufl’d Trees. Fragrant and Flowry all the Banks appear } Whose mixt disorders more delightful were, } Then if they had been plac’d with Artful care, } The Cowslip, Lilly, Rose and Jesamine, The Daffodil, the Pink and Eglintine, Whose gawdy store continues all the year, Makes but the meanest of the Wonders here. Here the young _Charmers_ walk the Banks along, Here all the _Graces_ and the _Beauties_ throng. But what did most my Admiration draw, Was that the Old and Ugly there I saw, Who with their Apish Postures, void of shame Still practice Youth, and talk of Darts and Flame. I laught to see a Lady out of date, } A worn out Beauty, once of the first rate; } With youthful Dress, and more fantastick Prate, } Setting her wither’d Face in thousand forms, And thinks the while she Dresses it in charms; Disturbing with her Court: the busier throng Ever Addressing to the Gay and Young; There an old Batter’d Fop, you might behold, Lavish his Love, Discretion, and his Gold On a fair she, that has a Trick in Art, To cheat him of his Politicks and Heart; Whilst he that Jilts the Nation ore and ore, Wants sense to find it in the subtiller _W--re_. The Man that on this Isle before had been, Finding me so admire at what I’d seen; Thus said to me.--

LOVE’s Power.

_Love when he Shoots abroad his Darts,_ _Regards not where they light:_ _The Aged to the Youthful Hearts,_ _At random they unite._ _The soft un-bearded Youth, who never found_ _The Charms in any Blooming Face,_ _From one of Fifty takes the Wound;_ _And eagerly persues the cunning Chase:_ _While she an Arted Youth puts on;_ _Softens her Voice, and languishes her Eyes;_ _Affects the Dress, the Mean, the Tone,_ _Assumes the noysy Wit, and ceases to be Wise;_ _The tender Maid to the Rough Warrior yields;_ _Unfrighted at his Wounds and Scars,_ _Pursues him through the Camps and Fields,_ _And Courts the story of his dangerous Wars,_ _With Pleasure hears his Scapes, and does not fail_ _To pay him with a Joy for every Tale._

_The fair young Bigot, full of Love and Prayer,_ _Doats on the lewd and careless Libertine;_ _The thinking States-man fumbles with the Player,_ _And dearly buys the (barely wishing) Sin._ _The Peer with some mean Damsel of the trade,_ } _Expensive, common, ugly and decay’d:_ } _The gay young Squire, on the blouz’d Landry Maid._ } _All things in Heaven, in Earth, and Sea,_ _Love gives his Laws unto;_ _Tho’ under different Objects, they_ _Alike obey, and bow;_ _Sometimes to be reveng’d on those,_ _Whose Beauty makes ‘em proudly nice,_ _He does a Flame on them impose,_ _To some unworthy choice._ _Thus rarely equal Hearts in Love you’ll find,_ _Which makes ‘em still present the God as Blind._

Whilst thus he spake, my wondering Eyes were staid With a profound attention on a Maid! Upon whose Smiles the _Graces_ did await, And all the _Beauties_ round about her sate; Officious _Cupid’s_ do her Eyes obey, Sharpning their Darts from every Conquering Ray: Some from her Smiles they point with soft desires, Whilst others from her Motion take their Fires: Some the Imbroider’d Vail and Train do bear, And some around her fan the gentle Air, Whilst others flying, scatter fragrant Show’rs, } And strow the paths she treads with painted flow’rs, } The rest are all imploy’d to dress her Bow’rs; } While she does all, the smiling Gods carress, And they new Attributes receive from each Address.

The CHARACTER.

_Such Charms of Youth, such Ravishment_ _Through all her Form appear’d,_ _As if in her Creation Nature meant,_ _She shou’d alone be ador’d and fear’d:_ _Her Eyes all sweet, and languishingly move,_ } _Yet so, as if with pity Beauty strove,_ } _This to decline, and that to charm with Love._ } _A chearful Modesty adorn’d her Face,_ _And bashful Blushes spread her smiling Cheeks;_ _Witty her Air; soft every Grace,_ _And ‘tis eternal Musick when she speaks,_ _From which young listening Gods the Accents take_ } _And when they wou’d a perfect Conquest make,_ } _Teach their young favourite Lover so to speak._ }

2.

_Her Neck, on which all careless fell her Hair,_ } _Her half discover’d rising Bosome bare,_ } _Were beyond Nature formed; all Heavenly fair._ } _Tempting her dress, loose with the Wind it flew,_ _Discovering Charms that wou’d alone subdue;_ _Her soft white slender Hands whose touches wou’d_ _Beget desire even in an awful God;_ _Long Winter’d Age to tenderness wou’d move,_ _And in his Frozen Blood, bloom a new spring of_ Love.

All these at once my Ravisht Senses charm’d, And with unusual Fires my Bosome warm’d. Thus my fixt Eyes pursu’d the lovely Maid, Till they had lost her in the envied Glade; Yet still I gaz’d, as if I still had view’d The Object, which my new desires pursu’d. Lost while I stood; against my Will, my sight Conducted me unto a new delight. Twelve little Boats were from the Banks unty’d, And towards our Vessel sail’d with wondrous Pride, With wreathes of Flowers and Garlands they were drest, Their Cordage all of Silk and Gold consist, Their Sails of silver’d Lawn, and Tinsel were, Which wantonly were ruffled in the Air. As many little Cupids gayly clad, Did Row each Boat, nor other guides they had. A thousand _Zephires_ Fann’d the moving Fleet, Which mixing with the Flow’rs became more sweet, And by repeated Kisses did assume From them a scent that did the Air perfume. So near us this delightful Fleet was come, We cou’d distinguish what the _Cupid’s_ sung, Which oft with charming Notes they did repeat, With Voices such as I shall ne’re forget.

_You that do seek with Amorous desires,_ _To tast the Pleasures of the Life below,_ _Land on this_ Island, _and renew your Fires,_ _For without_ Love, _there is no joy, you know._

Then all the _Cupids_ waiting no Commands, With soft inviting Smiles present their Hands, And in that silent Motion seem’d to say, _You ought to follow, where Love leads the way._ Mad with delight, and all transported too, I quitted Reason, and resolv’d to go; For that bright charming Beauty I had seen, And burnt with strange desire to see again, Fill’d with new hope, I laught at Reasons force, And towards the Island, bent my eager Course; The _Zephires_ at that instant lent their Aid, And I into Loves Fleet was soon convey’d, And by a thousand Friendships did receive, Welcomes which none but God’s of Love cou’d give. Many possest with my Curiosity, Tho’ not inspir’d like me, yet follow’d me, And many staid behind, and laught at us: And in a scoffing tone reproacht us thus,

_Farewel, Adventurers, go search the Joy,_ _Which mighty Love inspires, and you shall find,_ _The treatment of the wond’rous Monarch Boy,_ _In’s Airy Castle always soft and kind._

We on the fragrant Beds of Roses laid, } And lull’d with Musick which the _Zephires_ made, } When with the Amorous silken Sails they plaid, } Rather did them as wanting Wit account Then we in this affair did Judgment want, With Smiles of pity only answer’d them, Whilst they return’d us pitying ones again. Now to the wisht for Shoar, with speed we high; Vain with our Fate, and eager of our Joy, And as upon the Beach we landed were, An awful Woman did to us repair. Goddess of _Prudence_! who with grave advice, Counsels the heedless Stranger to be Wise; She guards this Shoar, and Passage does forbid, But now blind Sense her Face from us had hid; We pass’d and dis-obey’d the heavenly Voice, Which few e’er do, but in this fatal place. Now with impatient hast, (but long in vain) } I seek the Charming Author of my Pain, } And haunt the Woods, the Groves, and ev’ry Plain. } I ask each Chrystal Spring, each murmuring Brook, Who saw my fair, or knows which way she took? I ask the Eccho’s, when they heard her Name? But they cou’d nothing but my Moans proclaim; My Sighs, the fleeting Winds far off do bear, My Charmer, cou’d no soft complaining hear: At last, where all was shade, where all was Gay; } On a Brooks Brink, which purling past away, } Asleep the lovely Maid extended lay; } Of different Flowers the _Cupids_ made her Bed, And Rosey Pillows did support her Head. With what transported Joy my Soul was fill’d, When I, the Object of my wish beheld! My greedy View each lovely part survey’d; On her white Hand, her Blushing Cheek was laid Half hid in Roses; yet did so appear As if with those, the Lillys mingled were; Her thin loose Robe did all her shape betray, (Her wondrous shape that negligently lay) And every Tempting Beauty did reveal, But what young bashful Maids wou’d still conceal; Impatient I, more apt to hope than fear, Approacht the Heav’nly sleeping Maid more near; The place, my flame, and all her Charms invite To tast the sacred Joys of stoln delight. The Grove was silent, and no Creature by, But the young smiling God of Love and I; But as before the awful shrine, I kneel’d, Where Loves great Mystery was to be reveal’d, A Man from out the Groves recess appears, Who all my boasted Vigor turn’d to fears, He slackt my Courage by a kind surprize, And aw’d me with th’ Majesty of his Eyes; I bow’d, and blusht, and trembling did retire, And wonder’d at the Pow’r that checkt my fire; So excellent a Mean, so good a Grace, So grave a Look, such a commanding Face; In modest Speech, as might well subdue, Youth’s native wildness; yet ‘twas gracious too. A little _Cupid_ waiting by my side, (Who was presented to me for a guide,) Beholding me decline, the Sleeping Maid, To gaze on this Intruder,--Thus he said.

RESPECT.

I.

_Him whom you see so awful and severe,_ _Is call’d_ Respect, _the Eldest Son of_ Love; Esteem _his Mother is; who every where_ _Is the best Advocate to all the fair,_ _And knows the most obliging Arts to move:_ _Him you must still carress, and by his Grace,_ _You’ll conquer all the Beauties of the Place;_ _To gain him ‘tis not Words will do,_ _His Rhetorick is the Blush and Bow._

II.

_He even requires that you shou’d silent be,_ _And understand no Language but from Eyes,_ _Or Sighs, the soft Complaints on Cruelty;_ _Which soonest move the Heart they wou’d surprize:_ _They like the Fire in Limbecks gently move._ _What words (too hot and fierce) destroy;_ _These by degrees infuse a lasting Love;_ _Whilst those do soon burn out the short blaz’d Joy._ _These the all-gaining Youth requires,_ _And bears to Ladies Hearts the Lambent Fires;_ _And He that wou’d against despair be proof,_ _Can never keep him Company enough._

Instructed thus, I did my steps direct, Towards the necessary Grave _Respect_, Whom I soon won to favour my design, To which young LOVE his promis’d aid did joyn. This wak’t _Aminta_, who with trembling fear, Wonder’d to see a stranger enter’d there; With timorous Eyes the Grove she does survey, Where are my LOVES, she crys! all fled away? And left me in this gloomy shade alone? And with a Man! Alas, I am undone. Then strove to fly; but I all prostrate lay, And grasping fast her Robe, oblig’d her stay; Cease, lovely Charming Maid, Oh cease to fear, I faintly cry’d,--There is no _Satyr_ near; I am of humane Race, whom Beauty Aws, And born an humble Slave to all her Laws; Besides we’re not alone within the Grove, Behold _Respect_, and the young God of LOVE: How can you fear the Man who with these two, In any Shade or hour approaches you? Thus by degrees her Courage took its place; And usual Blushes drest again her Face, Then with a Charming Air, her Hand she gave, She bade me rise, and said she did believe. And now my Conversation does permit; But oh the entertainment of her Wit, Beyond her Beauty did my Soul surprize, Her Tongue had Charms more pow’rful than her Eyes! Ah _Lysidas_, hadst thou a list’ner been } To what she said; tho’ her thou ne’re had’st seen, } Without that Sense, thou hadst a Captive been. } Guess at my Fate,--but after having spoke, Many indifferent things: Her leave she took. The Night approach’t, and now with Thoughts opprest, I minded neither where, nor when to Rest, When my Conductor LOVE! whom I pursu’d, Led to a Palace call’d _Inquietude_.

INQUIETUDE.

_A Neighbouring_ Villa _which derives its name,_ _From the rude sullen Mistress of the same;_ _A Woman of a strange deform’d Aspect;_ _Peevishly pensive, fond of her neglect;_ _She never in one posture does remain,_ _Now leans, lyes down, then on her Feet again;_ _Sometimes with Snails she keeps a lazy pace,_ _And sometimes runs like Furies in a Chase;_ _She seldom shuts her watchful Eyes to sleep,_ _Which pale and languid does her Visage keep;_ _Her loose neglected Hair disorder’d grows;_ _Which undesign’d her Fingers discompose;_ _Still out of Humour, and deprav’d in Sense,_ _And Contradictive as Impertinence;_ _Distrustful as false States-men, and as nice_ _In Plots, Intrigues, Intelligence and Spies._

To her we did our Duty pay, but she Made no returns to our Civility. Thence to my Bed; where rest in vain I sought, } For pratling LOVE still entertain’d my thought, } And to my Mind, a thousand Fancies brought: } _Aminta’s_ Charms and Pow’rful Attractions, From whence I grew to make these soft Reflections.

The REFLECTION.

I.

_What differing Passions from what once I felt,_ _My yielding Heart do melt,_ _And all my Blood as in a Feaver burns,_ _Yet shivering Cold by turns._ _What new variety of hopes and fears?_ _What suddain fits of Smiles and Tears?_ Hope! _Why dost thou sometimes my Soul imploy_ _With Prospects of approaching Joy?_ _Why dost thou make me pleas’d and vain,_ _And quite forget last minutes pain?_ _What Sleep wou’d calm_, Aminta _keeps awake;_ _And I all Night soft Vows and Wishes make._ _When to the Gods I would my Prayers address,_ _And sue to be forgiven,_ Aminta’s _name, I still express,_ _And Love is all that I confess,_ Love _and_ Aminta! _Ever out Rival Heaven!_

II.

_Books give me no content at all;_ _Unless soft_ Cowly _entertain my Mind,_ _Then every pair in Love I find;_ Lysander _him_, Aminta _her, I call:_ _Till the bewitching Fewel raise the fire;_ _Which was design’d but to divert,_ _Then to cool Shades I ragingly retire,_ _To ease my hopeless panting Heart,_ _Yet thereto every thing begets desire._ _Each flowry Bed, and every loanly Grove,_ _Inspires new Wishes, new impatient Love._

[Sidenote A: Little Arts to please.]

Thus all the Night in vain I sought repose, And early with the Sun next day, I rose; Still more impatient grew my new desires, To see again the Author of my Fires, _Love_ leads me forth, to little [A]CARES we pass, Where _Love_ instructed me _Aminta_ was; Far from _Inquietude_ this Village stands, And for its Beauty all the rest commands; In all the _Isle of Love_, not one appears, So ravishingly Gay as _Little Cares_.

Little CARES, _or Little Arts to please_.

I.

_Thither all the Amorous Youth repair,_ _To see the Objects of their Vows;_ _No Jealousies approach ‘em there;_ _They Banish Dulness and Despair;_ _And only Gayety and Mirth allow._ _The Houses cover’d o’re with flow’rs appear,_ _Like fragrant Arbours all the year,_ _Where all the dear, the live-long day,_ _In Musick, Songs, and Balls is past away:_ _All things are form’d for pleasure and delight,_ _Which finish not but with the Light;_ _But when the Sun returns again,_ _They hold with that bright God an equal Reign._

II.

_There no Reproaches dwell; that Vice_ _Is banisht with the Coy and Nice._ _The Froward there learn Complyance;_ _There the Dull Wise his Gravity forsakes,_ _The Old dispose themselves to Dance,_ _And Melancholy wakens from his Trance,_ _And against Nature sprightly Humour takes._ _The formal States-man does his Int’rest quit,_ _And learns to talk of Love and Wit;_ _There the Philosopher speaks Sense,_ _Such as his Mistress Eyes inspire;_ _Forgets his learned Eloquence,_ _Nor now compares his Flame to his own Chimick fire._

III.

_The Miser there opens his Golden heaps,_ _And at_ Love’s _Altar offers the rich Prize;_ _His needless fears of want does now despise,_ _And as a lavish Heir, he Treats and Reaps_ _The Blessings that attend his grateful Sacrifice._ _Even the Fluttering Coxcomb there_ _Does less ridiculous appear:_ _For in the Crowd some one unlucky Face,_ _With some particular Grimmas,_ _Has the ill fate his Heart to gain,_ } _Which gives him just the Sense to know his pain;_ } _Whence he becomes less talkative and vain._ } _There ‘tis the Muses dwell! that sacred Nine,_ _Who teach the inlarged Soul to prove,_ _No Arts or Sciences Divine,_ _But those inspired by Them and_ Love! _Gay Conversation, Feast, and Masquerades,_ _Agreeable Cabals, and Serinades;_ _Eternal Musick, Gladness, Smiles and Sport,_ _Make all the bus’ness of this Little Court._