Sylvæ, or, The second part of Poetical miscellanies

LUCRETIUS The Fourth Book. (Book 4)

Concerning the Nature of Love; Beginning at this Line, Sic igitur, Veneris qui telis accipit ictum, &c. (Book 4)

THus therefore, he who feels the Fiery dart Of strong desire transfix his amorous heart, VVhether some beauteous Boys alluring face, Or Lovelyer Maid with unresisted Grace, From her each part the winged arrow sends, From whence he first was struck, he thither tends▪ Restless he roams, impatient to be freed, And eager to inject the sprightly seed. For fierce desire does all his mind employ, And ardent Love assures approaching joy.

Such is the nature of that pleasing smart, Whose burning drops distil upon the heart, The Feaver of the Soul shot from the fair, And the cold Ague of succeeding care. If absent, her Idea still appears; And her sweet name is chiming in your ears: But strive those pleasing fantomes to remove, And shun th' Aerial images of Love; That feed the flame: When one molests thy mind Discharge thy loyns on all the leaky kind; For that's a wiser way than to restrain Within thy swelling nerves, that hoard of pain. For every hour some deadlier symptom shows, And by delay the gath'ring venom grows, When kindly applications are not us'd; The Viper Love must on the wound be bruis'd: On that one object 'tis not safe to stay, But force the tide of thought some other way:

The squander'd Spirits prodigally throw; And in the common Glebe of Nature sow. Nor wants he all the bliss, that Lovers feign, Who takes the pleasure, and avoids the pain; For purer joys in purer health abound; And less affect the sickly than the sound. When Love its utmost vigour does imploy, Ev'n then, 'tis but a restless wandring joy: Nor knows the Lover, in that wild excess, With hands or eyes, what first he wou'd possess: But strains at all; and fast'ning where he strains, Too closely presses with his frantique pains: With biteing kisses hurts the twining fair, Which shews his joyes imperfect, unsincere: For stung with inward rage, he flings around, And strives t' avenge the smart on that which gave the wound.

But love those eage•• bi••••ngs does res••rain, And mingling pleasure molli••ies the pain. ••or ardent hope still flatters anxious grief, And sends him to his Foe to seek relief: Which yet the nature of the thing denies; ••or Love, and Love alone of all our joyes ••y full possession does but fan the fire, ••he more we still enjoy, the more we still desire. ••ature for mea••, and drink provides a space; ••nd when receiv'd they fill their certain place; ••ence thirst and hunger may be satisfi'd, ••ut this repletion is to Love deny'd: ••orm, feature, colour, whatsoe're delight ••rovokes the Lovers endless appetite, These fill no space, nor can we thence remove With lips, or hands, or all our instruments of love: 〈◊〉〈◊〉 our deluded grasp we nothing find, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 thin aerial shapes, that fleet before the mind.

As he who in a dream with drought is curst, And finds no real drink to quench his thirst, Runs to imagin'd Lakes his heat to steep, And vainly swills and labours in his sleep; So Love with fantomes cheats our longing eyes, Which hourly seeing never satisfies; Our hands pull nothing from the parts they strain▪ But wander o're the lovely limbs in vain: Nor when the Youthful pair more clossely joyn, When hands in hands they lock, and thighs in thigh they twin•• Just in the raging foam of full desire, When both press on, both murmur, both expire, They gripe, they squeeze, their humid tongue they dart, As each wou'd force their way to t'others heart: In vain; they only cruze about the coast, For bodies cannot pierce, nor be in bodies lost: As sure they strive to be, when both engage, In that tumultuous momentany rage,

••o 'tangled in the Nets of Love they lie, Till Man dissolves in that excess of joy. Then, when the gather'd bag has burst its way, And ebbing tydes the slacken'd nervs betray, •• pause ensues; and Nature nods a while, Till with recruited rage new Spirits boil; ••nd then the same vain violence returns, With flames renew'd th' erected furnace burns. ••gen they in each other wou'd be lost, ••ut still by adamantine bars are crost; ••ll wayes they try, successeless all they prove, ••o cure the secret sore of lingring love. ••esides— They waste their strength in the venereal strife, ••nd to a Womans will enslave their life; ••h' Estate runs out, and mortgages are made, ••ll Offices of friendship are decay'd; ••heir fortune ruin'd, and their fame betray'd.

Assyrian Oyntment from their temples flows, And Diamond Buckles sparkle at their shooes. The chearful Emerald twinkles on their hands, With all the luxury of foreign lands: And the blew Coat that with imbroid'ry shines, Is drunk with sweat of their o're labour'd loyns. Their frugal Fathers gains they mis-employ, And turn to Point, and Pearl, and ev'ry female toy. French fashions, costly treats are their delight; The Park by day, and Plays and Balls by night. In vain:— For in the Fountain where their Sweets are sought▪ Some bitter bubbles up, and poisons all the draught▪ First guilty Conscience does the mirrour bring, Then sharp remorse shoots out her angry sting, And anxious thoughts within themselves at strife, Upbraid the long mispent, luxurious life.

Perhaps the fickle fair One proves unkind, Or drops a doubtful word, that pains his mind; And leavs a ranckling jealousie behind. Perhaps he watches closs her amorous eyes, And in the act of ogling does surprise; And thinks he sees upon her cheeks the while, The dimpled tracks of some foregoing smile; His raging Pulse beats thick, and his pent Spirits boyl. This is the product ev'n of prosp'rous Love, Think then what pangs disastrous passions prove! Innumerable Ills; disdain, despair, With all the meager Family of Care: Thus, as I said, 'tis better to prevent, Than flatter the Disease, and late repent: Because to shun th' allurement is not hard, To minds resolv'd, forewarn'd, and well prepar'd:

But wond'rous difficult, when once beset, To struggle thro' the streights, and break th' invol∣ving Net. Yet thus insnar'd thy freedom thou may'st gain, If, like a fool, thou dost not hug thy chain; If not to ruin obstinately blind, And willfully endeavouring not to find, Her plain defects of Body and of mind. For thus the Bedlam train of Lovers use, T' inhaunce the value, and the faults excuse. And therefore 'tis no wonder if we see They doat on Dowdyes, and Deformity: Ev'n what they cannot praise, they will not blame But veil with some extenuating name: The Sallow Skin is for the Swarthy put, And love can make a Slattern of a Slut: If Cat-ey'd, then a Pallas is their love, If freckled she's a party-colour'd Dove.

If little, then she's life and soul all o're: An Amazon, the large two handed Whore. She stammers, oh what grace in lisping lies, If she sayes nothing, to be sure she's wise. If shrill, and with a voice to drown a Quire, Sharp witted she must be, and full of fire. The lean, consumptive Wench with coughs decay'd, ••s call'd a pretty, tight, and slender Maid. Th' o're grown, a goodly Ceres is exprest, A bed-fellow for Bacchus at the least. ••lat Nose the name of Satyr never misses, And hanging blobber lips, but pout for kisses. The task were endless all the rest to trace: Yet grant she were a Venus for her face, And shape, yet others equal beauty share; And time was you cou'd live without the fair: ••he does no more, in that for which you woo, Then homelier women full as well can do.

Besides she daubs, and stinks so much of paint, Her own Attendants cannot bear the scent: But laugh behind, and bite their lips to hold; Mean time excluded, and expos'd to cold, The whining Lover stands before the Gates, And there with humble adoration waites: Crowning with flow'rs the threshold and the floor, And printing kisses on th' obdurate door: Who if admitted in that nick of time, If some unsav'ry Whiff, betray the crime, Invents a quarrel straight, if there be none, Or makes some faint excuses to be gone: And calls himself a doating fool to serve, Ascribing more than Woman can deserve. Which well they understand like cunning Queans; And hide their nastiness behind the Scenes. From him they have allur'd, and wou'd retain, But to a peircing eye, 'tis all in vain:

For common sense brings all their cheats to view, And the false light discovers by the true: Which a wise Harlot owns, and hopes to find A pardon for defects, that run thro' all the kind. Nor alwayes do they feign the sweets of Love, When round the panting Youth their pliant limbs they move; And cling, and heave, and moisten ev'ry kiss, They often share, and more than share the bliss: From every part, ev'n to their inmost Soul, They feel the trickling joyes, and run with vigour to the Goal. Stirr'd with the same impetuous desire Birds, Beasts, and Herds, and Mares, their Males re∣quire: Because the throbbing Nature in their veins Provokes them to asswage their kindly pains: The lusty leap th' expecting Female stands, By mutual heat compell'd to mutual Bands.

Thus Dogs with lolling Tongues by love are ty'd; Nor shouting boys, nor blows their union can divide: At either end they strive the linck to loose; In vain, for stronger Venus holds the noose. Which never wou'd those wretched Lovers do, But that the common heats of Love they know; The pleasure therefore must be shar'd in common too. And when the Womans more prevailing juice Sucks in the mans, the mixture will produce The Mothers likeness; when the man prevails, His own resemblance in the seed he Seals. But when we see the new begotten race Reflect the features of each Parents face, Then of the Fathers and the Mothers blood, The justly temper'd seed is understood: When both conspire, with equal ardour bent, From every limb the due proportion sent,

When neither party foils, when neither foild, This gives the blended features of the Child. Sometimes the Boy, the Grandsires image bears; Sometimes the more remote Progenitor he shares; Because the genial Atomes of the seed Lie long conceal'd e're they exert the breed: And after sundry Ages past, produce The tardy likeness of the latent juice. Hence Families such different figures take, And represent their Ancestors in face and Hair, and make. Because of the same Seed, the voice, and hair, And shape, and face, and other members are, And the same antique mould the likeness does prepare. Thus oft the Fathers likeness does prevail In Females, and the Mothers in the Male.

For since the seed is of a double kind. From that where we the most resemblance find, We may conclude the strongest tincture sent, And that was in conception prevalent. Nor can the vain decrees of Pow'rs above, Deny production to the act of Love, Or hinder Fathers of that happy name, Or with a barren Womb the Matron shame; As many think, who stain with Victims Blood The mournful Altars, and with incense load: To bless the show'ry seed with future Life, And to impregnate the well labour'd Wife. In vain they weary Heav'n with Prayer, or fly To Oracles, or Magique numbers try: For barrenness of Sexes will proceed. Either from too Condens'd, or watry seed; The ••a••ry juice too soon dissolves away, And in the parts projected will not stay;

The too Condens'd, unsould, unwieldly mass Drops short, nor carries to the destin'd place: Nor pierces to the parts, nor, though injected home, Will mingle with the kindly moisture of the womb. For Nuptials are unlike in their success, Some men, with fruitful seed some Women bless; And from some men some Women fruitful are; ••ust as their constitutions joyn or jarr: And many, seeming barren Wives have been, Who, after match'd with more prolifique men, Have fill'd a Family with pratling boyes: And many not supply'd at home with joys, Have found a friend abroad, to ease their smart, And to perform the Sapless Husbands part. ••o much it does import, that seed with seed ••hou'd of the kindly mixture make the breed: And thick with thin, and thin with thick shou'd joyn, ••o to produce and propagate the Line.

Of such concernment too is Drink and food, T'incrassate, or attenuate the blood. Of like importance is the posture too, In which the genial feat of Love we do: For as the Females of the four foot kind, Receive the leapings of their Males behind; So the good Wives, with loins uplifted high, And leaning on their hands the fruitful stroke may try: For in that posture will they best conceive: Not when supinely laid they frisk and heave; For active motions only break the blow, And more of Strumpets than of Wives they show; When answering stroke with stroke, the mingled liquors flow. Endearments eager, and too brisk a bound, Throws off the Plow-share from the furrow'd ground.

But common Harlots in conjunction heave, Because 'tis less their business to conceive Than to delight, and to provoke the deed; A trick which honest Wives but little need. Nor is it from the Gods, or Cupids dart, That many a homely Woman takes the heart; But Wives well humour'd, dutiful, and chaste, And clean, will hold their wandring Husbands fast, Such are the links of Love, and such a Love will last. For what remains, long habitude, and use, Will kindness in domestick Bands produce: For Custome will a strong impression leave; Hard bodies, which the lightest stroke receive, In length of time, will moulder and decay, And stones with drops of rain are wash'd away.