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OP MARYELL* 91
* DAMON THE MOWER.
OP MARYELL* 91
* DAMON THE MOWER.
Marvell - Poems
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OF HABVBLL. 89
THE MOWER AGAINST GARDENS.
LuxuBious man, to bring bis vice in use,
Did after bim tbe world seduce,
And from tbe fields tbe flowers and plants allure,
Wbere nature was most plain and pure.
He first inclosed witbin tbe gardens square
A dead and standing pool of air,
And a more luscious eartb from them did knead,
Wbicb stupefied tbem wbile it fed.
Tbe pink grew tben as double as bis mind ;
Tbe nutriment did cbange the kind.
With strange perfumes be did tbe roses taint;
And flowers themselves were taught to paint.
Tbe tulip white did for complexion seek,
And learned to interline its cheek ;
Its union root they tben so high did hold,
That one was for a meadow sold :
Another world was searched through oceans new,
To find tbe marble of Peru,
And yet these rarities might be allowed
To man, that sovereign thing and proud,
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90 THE POEMS'
Had he not dealt between the bark and tree.
Forbidden mixtures there to see.
No plant now knew the stock from which it came ;
He grafts upon the wild the tame,
That the uncertain and adulterate fruit
Might put the palate in dispute.
His green seraglio has its eunuchs too,
Lest any tyrant him outdo,
And in the cherry he does nature vex,
To proci*eate without a sex.
'Tis all enforced, the fountain and the grot,
While the sweet fields do lie forgot,
Where willing nature does to all dispense
A wild and fragrant innocence.
And fauns and fairies do the meadows till
More by their presence than their skill.
Their statues, polished by some ancient hand.
May to adorn the gardens stand,
But, howsoe'er the figures do excel.
The Gods themselves with us do dwell.
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OP MARYELL* 91
* DAMON THE MOWER.
Hark how the Mower Damon sung,
With love of Juliana stung,
While every thing did seem to paint
The scene more fit for his complaint !
Like her fair eyes the day was fair,
But scorching like his amorous care ;
Sharp, like his scythe, his sorrow was,
And withered, like his hopes, the grass.
Oh what unusual heats are here.
Which thus our sun-burned meadows fear !
The grasshopper its pipe gives o'er,
And hamstringed frogs can dance no more,
But in the brook the gi*een frog wades.
And grasshoppers seek out the shades ;
Only the snake, that kept within,
Now glitters in its second skin.
This heat the sun could never raise,
Nor dog-star so inflame the days ;
It from an higher beauty groweth.
Which burns the fields and mower both.
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92 TUB POKMS
Which made the dog, aiid makes the san
Hotter than his own Phaeton ;
Not July causeth tliesc extremes,
But Juliana's scorching beams.
Tell me where I may pass the fires
Of the hot day, or hot desires ;
To what cool cave shall I descend.
Or to what gelid fountain bend ?
Alas ! I look for ease in vain,
\Vhen remedies themselves complain,
No moisture but my tears do rest,
Nor cold but in her icy breast.
How long wilt thou, fair shepherdess,
Esteem me and my presents less ?
To thee the harmless snake I bring.