No More Learning

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108 THE POEMS



TRANSLATED FROM SENECA'S TRAGEDY
OF THYESTES.

CHORUS II.

Climb, at court, for me, that wiU,

Tottering favour's pinnacle ;

All I seek is to lie still :

Settled in some secret nest,

In calm leisure . let me rest,

And, far off the public stage.

Pass away my silent age.

Thus, when, without noise, unknown,

I have lived out all my span,

I shall die, without a groan.

An old honest countryman.

Who, exposed to other's eyes.

Into his own heart never pries.

Death to him*s a strange surprise.



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OF MARy£LL. 109



A DIALOGUE BETWEEN THE RESOLVED
SOUL, AND CREATED PLEASURE.

Courage, my soul ! now learn to wield
The weight of thine immortal shield ;
Close on thy head thy helmet bright ;
Balance thy sword against the fight ;
See where an army, strong as fair,
With silken banners spread the air !
Now, if thou be'st that thing divine,
In this day's combat let it shine.
And show that nature wants an art
To conquer one resolved heart.

PLEASURE.

Welcome ; the creation's guest,
Lord of earth, and heaven's heir I
Lay aside that warlike crest,
And of nature's banquet share.
Where the souls of fruits and flowers.
Stand prepared to heighten yours.



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110 THE POEMS

SOUL.

I sup above, and cannot stay,
To bait so long upon the way.

PLEASURE.

On these downy pillows lie,
Whose soft plumes will thither fly :
On these roses, strewed so plain
Lest one leaf thy side should strain.

80UL.

My gentler rest is on a thought,
Conscious of doing what I ought.

PLEASURE.

If thou be*st with perfumes pleased,
Such as ofl the gods appeased,
Thou in fragrant clouds shalt show.
Like another god below.

SOUL.

A soul that knows not to presume.