In blushing clouds
conceals
his head.
Marvell - Poems
See in what wanton harmless folds.
It everywhere the meadow holds.
And its yet muddy back doth lick,
'Till as a crystal mirror slick.
Where all things gaze themselves, and doubt
If they be in it, or without.
And for his shade which therein shines.
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OF MARVELL. 2D
Narcissus-like, the sun too pines. •«>
Oh what a pleasure 'tis to hedge
My temples here with heavy sedge,
Abandoning my lazy side,
Stretched as a bank unto the tide,
Or to suspend my sliding foot «5
On the osier's undermined root,
And in its branches tough to hang.
While at my lines the fishes twang I
But now away my hooks, my quills.
And angles, idle utensils ! «3»
The young Maria walks to-night :
Hide, trifling youth, thy pleasures slight ;
'Twere shame that such judicious eyes
Should with such toys a man surprise ;
She that already is the law «»
Of all her sex, her age's awe.
See how loose nature, in respect
To her, itself doth recollect,
And every thing so washed and fine,
Starts forth with it to its bonne mine. •»
The sun himself of her aware.
Seems to descend with greater care.
And, lest she see him go to bed.
In blushing clouds conceals his head.
So when the shadows laid asleep, ms
From underneath these banks do creep,
And on the river, as it flows.
With ebon shuts begin to close.
The modest halcyon comes in sight,
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6{) THE POEMS
Fljring betwixt the day and night.
And such a horror calm and dumb,
Admiring nature does benumb ;
The viscous air, where'er she flj,
Follows and sucks her azure dye ;
The jellying stream compacts below,
If it might fix her shadow so ;
The stupid fishes hang, as plain
As flies in crystal overtaken.
And men the silent scene assist,
Charmed with the sapphire-winged mist;—
Maria, such, and so doth hush
The world, and through the evening rusk.
No new-born comet such a train
Draws through the sky, nor star new slain.
For straight those giddy rockets fail,
Which from the putrid earth exhale,
But by her flames, in heaven tried.
Nature is wholly vitrified.
'Tis she, that to these gardens gave
That wondrous beauty which they have ;
She straightness on the woods bestows ;
To her the meadow sweetness owes ;
Nothing could make the river be
So crystal pui*e, but only she.
She yet more pure, sweet, straight, and fair
Than gardens, woods, meads, rivers are.
Therefore what fii-st she on them spent.
They gratefully again present;
The meadow carpets where to tread,
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OP MARVELL. 31
The garden flowers to crown her head, "*>
And for a glass the limpid brook,
Where she may all her beauties look,
But, since she would not have them seen,
The wood about her draws a screen.
For she to higher beauties raised, 705
Disdains to be for lesser praised.
She counts her beauty to converse
In all the languages as hers ;
Nor yet in those herself employs,
But for the wisdom not the noise ; tio
Nor yet that wisdom would affect.
