No More Learning

Demophoon did not hate
Impatient Phyllis, yet procured her death.
This Jason is, he whom Medea hath
Obliged by mischief; she to her father proved
False, to her brother cruel; t' him she loved
Grew furious, by her merit over-prized.
Hypsipyle comes next, mournful, despised,
Wounded to see a stranger's love prevail
More than her own, a Greek. Here is the frail
Fair Helena, with her the shepherd boy,
Whose gazing looks hurt Greece, and ruin'd Troy.
'Mongst other weeping souls, you hear the moan
Oenone makes, her Paris being gone;
And Menelaus, for the woe he had
To lose his wife. Hermione is sad,
And calls her dear Orestes to her aid.
And Laodamia, that hapless maid,
Bewails Protesilaus. Argia proved
To Polynice more faithful than the loved
(But false and covetous) Amphiaraus' wife.
The groans and sighs of those who lose their life
By this kind lord, in unrelenting flames
You hear: I cannot tell you half their names.
For they appear not only men that love,
The gods themselves do fill this myrtle grove:
You see fair Venus caught by Vulcan's art
With angry Mars; Proserpina apart
From Pluto, jealous Juno, yellow-hair'd
Apollo, who the young god's courage dared:
And of his trophies proud, laugh'd at the bow
Which in Thessalia gave him such a blow.
What shall I say? --here, in a word, are all
The gods that Varro mentions, great and small;
Each with innumerable bonds detain'd,
And Jupiter before the chariot chain'd. "

ANNA HUME.


PART II.

_Stanci gia di mirar, non sazio ancora.
_


Wearied, not satisfied, with much delight,
Now here, now there, I turn'd my greedy sight,
And many things I view'd: to write were long,
The time is short, great store of passions throng
Within my breast; when lo, a lovely pair,
Join'd hand in hand, who kindly talking were,
Drew my attention that way: their attire
And foreign language quicken'd my desire
Of further knowledge, which I soon might gain.
My kind interpreter did all explain.
When both I knew, I boldly then drew near;
He loved our country, though she made it fear.
"O Masinissa! I adjure thee by
Great Scipio, and her who from thine eye
Drew manly tears," said I; "let it not be
A trouble, what I must demand of thee. "
He look'd, and said: "I first desire to know
Your name and quality; for well you show
Y' have heard the combat in my wounded soul,
When Love did Friendship, Friendship Love control. "
"I am not worth your knowledge, my poor flame
Gives little light," said I: "your royal fame
Sets hearts on fire, that never see your face:
But, pray you, say; are you two led in peace
By him? "--(I show'd their guide)--"Your history
Deserves record: it seemeth strange to me,
That faith and cruelty should come so near. "
He said: "Thine own expressions witness bear,
Thou know'st enough, yet I will all relate
To thee; 't will somewhat ease my heavy state.
On that brave man my heart was fix'd so much,
That Laelius' love to him could be but such;
Where'er his colours marched, I was nigh,
And Fortune did attend with victory:
Yet still his merit call'd for more than she
Could give, or any else deserve but he.
When to the West the Roman eagles came
Myself was also there, and caught a flame,
A purer never burnt in lover's breast:
But such a joy could not be long possess'd!
Our nuptial knot, alas! he soon untied,
Who had more power than all the world beside.
He cared not for our sighs; and though 't be true
That he divided us, his worth I knew:
He must be blind that cannot see the sun,
But by strict justice Love is quite undone:
Counsel from such a friend gave such a stroke
To love, it almost split, as on a rock:
For as my father I his wrath did fear,
And as a son he in my love was dear;
Brothers in age we were, him I obey'd,
But with a troubled soul and look dismay'd:
Thus my dear half had an untimely death,
She prized her freedom far above her breath;
And I th' unhappy instrument was made;
Such force th' intreaty and intreater had!
I rather chose myself than him t' offend,
And sent the poison brought her to her end:
With what sad thoughts I know, and she'll confess
And you, if you have sense of love, may guess;
No heir she left me, but my tedious moan;
And though in her my hopes and joys were gone,
She was of lower value than my faith!
But now farewell, and try if this troop hath
Another wonder; for the time is less
Than is the task.