ANOTHER TO THE RIVER ANKOR
LIII
Clear Ankor, on whose silver-sanded
shore,
My soul-shrined saint, my
fair Idea lives;
O blessed brook, whose milk-white
swans adore
Thy crystal stream, refined
by her eyes,
Where sweet myrrh-breathing
Zephyr in the spring
Gently distils his nectar-dropping
showers,
Where nightingales in Arden
sit and sing
Amongst the dainty dew-impearled
flowers;
Say thus, fair
brook, when thou shalt see thy queen,
“Lo, here thy shepherd
spent his wand’ring years
And in these shades, dear
nymph, he oft hath been;
And here to thee he sacrificed
his tears.”
Fair Arden, thou
my Tempe art alone,
And thou, sweet
Ankor, art my Helicon!
LIV
Yet read at last the story
of my woe,
The dreary abstracts of my
endless cares,
With my life’s sorrow
interlined so,
Smoked with my sighs, and
blotted with my tears,
The sad memorials
of my miseries,
Penned in the grief of mine
afflicted ghost,
My life’s complaint
in doleful elegies,
With so pure love as time
could never boast.
Receive the incense
which I offer here,
By my strong faith ascending
to thy fame,
My zeal, my hope, my vows,
my praise, my prayer,
My soul’s oblations
to thy sacred name;
Which name my
Muse to highest heavens shall raise,
By chaste desire, true love,
and virtuous praise.
LV
My fair, if thou wilt register
my love,
A world of volumes shall thereof
arise;
Preserve my tears, and thou
thyself shall prove
A second flood down raining
from mine eyes;
Note but my sighs,
and thine eyes shall behold
The sunbeams smothered with
immortal smoke;
And if by thee my prayers
may be enrolled,
They heaven and earth to pity
shall provoke.
Look thou into
my breast, and thou shalt see
Chaste holy vows for my soul’s
sacrifice,
That soul, sweet maid, which
so hath honoured thee,
Erecting trophies to thy sacred
eyes,
Those eyes to
my heart shining ever bright,
When darkness
hath obscured each other light.
AN ALLUSION TO THE EAGLETS
LVI
When like an eaglet I first
found my love,
For that the virtue I thereof
would know,
Upon the nest I set it forth
to prove
If it were of that kingly
kind or no;
But it no sooner
saw my sun appear,
But on her rays with open
eyes it stood,
To show that I had hatched
it for the air,
And rightly came from that
brave mounting brood;
And when the plumes
were summed with sweet desire,
To prove the pinions it ascends
the skies;
Do what I could, it needsly
would aspire
To my soul’s sun, those
two celestial eyes.
Thus from my breast,
where it was bred alone,
It after thee
is like an eaglet flown.