'Scaped the slow jaws o' the
grinding
pensioners,
I fell i' the trap of Rome's dire murderers ;
Twice rescued by my loyal senate's power, "
Twice I expected my babe's happy hour.
I fell i' the trap of Rome's dire murderers ;
Twice rescued by my loyal senate's power, "
Twice I expected my babe's happy hour.
Marvell - Poems
What's that I hear? A new bom babe's soft
cries.
And joyful mother's tender lullabies.
'Tis so ; behold, my daughter's passed all harms,
Cradling an infant in her fruitful arms ;
The very same the angelic vision showed,
In mien, in majesty, how like a god !
What a firm health does on her visage dwell !
Her sparkling eyes immortal youth foretell.
Eome, Sparta, Venice, could not all bring forth
So strong, so temperate, such lasting worth.
Marpesia, from the north with speed advance,
Thy sister's birth brings thy deliverance.
Fergusian founders this just babe exceeds,
In tlie arts of peace, and mighty martial d(3eda.
Kneel, Panopeians, to your equal queen,
Safe from the foreign sword, and barbarous
skene.
Transports of joy divert my yearning heart,
For my dear child, my soul, my better part.
Heaven shower her choicest blessings on thy womb,
Our present help, our stay in time to come !
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OF MiRTELL. 193
Thou best of daughters, mothers, matrons, say
What forced thy birth, and got this glorious day ?
OCEANA.
'Scaped the slow jaws o' the grinding pensioners,
I fell i' the trap of Rome's dire murderers ;
Twice rescued by my loyal senate's power, "
Twice I expected my babe's happy hour.
Malignant force twice checked their pious aid,
And to my foes as oft my state betrayed.
Great, full of pain, in a dark winter's night.
Threatened, pursued, I 'scaped by sudden flight.
Pale fear gave speed to my weak trembling feet.
And far I fled ere day our world could greet.
That dear loved light, which the whole globe
doth cheer,
Spurred on my flight, and ^ded to my fear ;.
Whilst black conspiracy, that child of night,
In royal purple clad, outdares the light ;
By day herself the faith's defender styles.
By night digs pits, and spreads her papal toils :
By day she to the pompous chapel goes.
By night, with York, adores Rome's idol-shows.
Witness, ye stars, and silent powers of night.
Her treacheries have forced my guiltless flight.
With the broad day my danger too drew near ;
Of help, of counsel void, how should I steer !
In pulpit damned, strumpet at court proclaimed,.
Where should I hide, where should I rest
defamed ?
13
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194 THE POEMS
Tortured in thought, I raised mj weeping eyes,
And sobbing voice, to the all-helping skies.
