Melpomene: or, The muses delight: Being new poems and songs. Written by several of the great wits of our present age, as I.D. T.F. S.W. T.S. C.O. I.B. &c. Collected together, and now printed.

The VOYAGE.

I.

AS one that's from a tedious Voyage come, And safe th'rough thousand storms arriv'd at home, Resolves to put to Sea no more, Or boldly tempt the flatt'ring Main, How smoothe soere it lie, or plain; But having drawn his broken Hull on shore, To some kinde Saint hangs up his consecrated Oar: I, who a greater Sea had past, The Ocean of rough Poesie, Where there so many shipwrackt be, Or on the Rocks, or on the Quicksands cast; Recounting what my self had seen, And in how many deaths I had been, Where scarce an empty wish or hope could come between.

With almost as confirm'd a Vow, Resolv'd no less to consecrate Some Votive Table, which might show The Labours I did undergo; And at a far more easie rate, Give others the delight to view on Land my dangerous Fate.

II.

Already was the sacred Plank design'd, And in it how I first assay'd the Deep, When thinking onely neer the Shores to keep, There rose a sudden and tempestuous winde, Which made me leave the unsaluted Land behinde. The Sea before was calm, and still, And gentle Airs did with my Streamers play, Scarce strong enough my half-struck Sail to fill, And th'rough the yeelding Christal force my way. Close by did many a Vessel ride, Whose Pilots all with Bays were gayly crown'd, And to the murmurs of the Tyde,

Voices and Mirth were heard around, My self made there Anacreons Lute resound;* 1.1 Which sprightly seem'd, & wondrous brave, And its old killing Notes to have; But from the waters more than those rough touches which I gave. 'Twould still of nothing sound but Love, Though I the various Stops did often prove: Wherefore new Loves I did begin,* 1.2 And intermixt (as parts) my own; Which took fresh vigour from the String, And o'er the dancing Flouds were quickly blown. I Venus sang, and stolen joys,* 1.3 And of his Flames who scap'd at Troys. And as the Thracian Orpheus by his skill To ransome his Euridice is sed,* 1.4 And from the Shades brought back the dead; My Song a greater Miracle did tell, And thither chain'd in Verse alive Proserpina did lead.

III.

Such was my Song: but when the Storm arose, Voyces and mirth were heard no more, But every man fell stoutly to his Oar, And to the flouds did all their strength oppose, Hoping to reach some Harbour, but in vain; They were with greater fury hurry'd back into the Main. Then might one hear in stead of these, The dying shreeks of such as shipwrackt were; And those proud Galleys, which before at ease Plow'd up the Deep, no longer did appear; But to the waves became a Prey: Some downright sank, some broken lay, And by the billows were in triumph born away. My Keel so many Leaks did spring, That all the Hold with water was flow'd o'er; And a Sea no less dangerous rag'd within, Than that which strove abroad the tempest to outroar.* 1.5

So over-board my lading straight I cast, With some faint hopes my Barque to save; But on the wind away they quickly past, And my best safety was no hope to have. Yet by me still the great Jessean Lyre I kept, Which from my Couch I down did take, Where it neglected long enough had slept, And all its numerous Chords I did awake; Thinking, since I the waves must try, Them and the Sea-gods with a Song to pacifie.

IV.

I play'd, and boldly then plung'd down, Holding my Harp still in my hand, My dear Companion through those paths unknown; But hopeless with it ere to reach the Land, When lo, the chaste Iarma, with a throng Of Nymphs and Tritons waited on, As she by chance there pass'd along, Drave up her Chariot by my side, And in requital for my humble Song,

Invited me with her to ride, And fearless of the way, with them my course to guide. And down she reach'd her Snowie hand, And from the flouds me gently rais'd, Whilst all the Sea-gods on me gaz'd, And waited, ere they further went, some new Command. Which straight she gave, and at her word the winde Backward did scowre: before, as smoothe and plain The Ocean lay; storms onely rag'd behinde: So to my Harp I turn'd again, And all its silent fetters did unbinde. No longer was I of the Deep afraid, But bolder grown, more Anthems plaid, And on them put my Chains, who theirs upon the waves had laid. Till having many a Country past, And coasting the whole earth around, The Northwest passage navigable found, I on my native shore was cast, And safely toucht the British Isle at last.

V.

This Table as in Colours 'twas exprest, And which Belisa's curious Pencil wrought,* 1.6 With Ivie Garlands and with Bays I drest, And to my Muses sacred Temple brought; Hoping it would accepted be, And surely gain my liberty From future service, and declare me free. But as I waiting in the Court did stand, Into a sudden extasie I fell; And led by an Immortal hand, Which entrance for me did command, Approacht the Fanes most private Cell By none ere seen before, where awful dread and reverence dwell. 'Twas not like those strait lodges here, Which by that name we call, But a magnificent and spacious Hall, The Roof with Paintings garnisht all; And where in Neeches on the wall,

There did the lively forms appear Of such who for their Verse the Laurel Sert did wear. Greece and old Rome possest the chiefest place, And all the upper end their quarter was: The sides were into several Coasts design'd, And by their Countries you each name might finde; Th' Italian, French, or Spanish Band, As they around did with their Titles stand: Britain as fair a space as any had; And no less honors were to her, than Rome or Athens paid.

VI.

Thither I turn'd my eye, and in the throng Of Crowned heads translated there, Whose very Names to count would be too long, The bright Orinda did appear;* 1.7 And though come thither last of all, Made the most beauteous Figure on the sacred wall. Aside her several Neeches were prepar'd For those who shall hereafter come, And with her there obtain a room,

As with her in the Muses service they had shar'd. Already were some names enrol'd, And in fair characters inchas'd; But who they were, must ne'r be told, Till they the fatal stream have past, And after death have here their living Statues plac't. My Muse alone these Worthies could outshine, As she approacht me there in shape divine: Her golden hair was all unbound With careless art, and wantonly did play, Mov'd by her strings Melodious sound, As on her shoulders the loose tresses lay. A wondrous Mantle o'er her back was thrown, And her gay mystick Vest below In Royal state trayl'd all adown; A Lute was in her hand, and on her head a Crown.

VII.

Amaz'd, I at her feet did fall, And prostrate lay, till up she bid me stand,

Saying, For this I thee did never call, But boldly to receive my great Command. Arise, for lo, a better fate Does on thy tuneful Numbers wait, Than what thou in the Deep hast try'd of late. Not but that all thy labours there, To thine own wish shall amply be repaid. For I by whom enroll'd they are, Second to none but Heav'n in that great care Which of thy Verse and thee I always had, Will look such large allowance for them shall be made, That all the damage which thou didst sustain, Shall not compare with thy immortal gain.

VIII.

Witness thy Votive Table, which I h••re accept Within my Archives a fair room to have, (Worthy for th' hand that did it to be kept) And thy mean Name from dark oblivion save, Till to another Temple, that's above, Reserv'd for those, who sacred Numbers prove,

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And there at last conclude their love. Thy souls bright Image I hereafter shall remove, Where several whom thou here dost know (Ambitious at their very Shrines to bow) Leaving their wanton Lays behinde, Like thee, and from all base Alloy refin'd, More to resemble the Eternal minde; With several who were never here, So God-like all their Measures were, (As Jesse's son, whose Harp thou erst didst bear) In glory with the first great Maker shine, And have for Mortal Bays, a Ray Divine.

IX.

But first, my Silvius, thou again to Sea must go, And many Towns, and Men, and Countries know, In the New-world of Christian Poesie,* 1.8 Part of which long since was design'd to be The happie fruits of thy discovery; Where none of all thy Nation has been yet, The way so dangerous, and the task so great.

Nor doubt but it shall recompence thy cost; And were it more, that age, they cry, th'ast lost, When to serve me, thou didst the Bar forsake,* 1.9 And for th' Long Robe, the Ivie Garland take, As that which would thy Name immortal make. For I have Honours to bestow, And Regal Treasures, though I rarely show The happie Country where they grow. And though some wretch the Plague endure Of miserable Poverty, The fault's his own, and not in me; Not that he is my Votary, But under that disguise an Enemy: Not I, but they alone who count me so, are poor.

X.

Try me, this once, and once more tempt the Main; Thou shalt not unattended go: For when thou next putst out to Sea again, I'll be thy Pilot, and the passage show.

Nay wonder not, for 'tis no more Than what I several times have done before, When I my Tasso through those Straights did guide, And made my Bartas o'er the Surges ride; Those mighty Admirals which did extend Their Country-bounds beyond the worlds wide end: 'Twas I conducted them those Lands to finde, Where each did plant their Nations Colonies; Both spreading less their Sayls than Victories. And there are yet more Lands for thee behinde; And all the way, like them, thou shalt rehearse The Birth of things, how they from nothing rose, By that Almighty Word which shall inspire thy Verse, And help thee all its Wonders to disclose. No Storm upon thy Mast shall rest, Or any Gales but Vernal blow; The Sea it self, to my great service prest, In plains of liquid Glass shall lie below, And its obedience to my Rule in dancing billows onely show. And when thou home return'd shalt be,

And of thy native earth once more take hold, My self thy Barque will consecrated see; And for this new World thus found out by thee, Make it an heav'nly Signe, neer that which sav'd the old.

S.

Notes

• * 1.1

  Turn'd A∣nacreon in∣to English Verse.
• * 1.2

  Made several Love-verses to Cletia & al.
• * 1.3

  Translated 4 Book Virg
• * 1.4

  Claudians Rapt. Pros
• * 1.5

  Having had so many Crosses, or, which is truer, seeing the little profit, I resolved to make no more Verse, except the argument were Divine or Moral; and so resumed my old designe of Paraphrasing the Psalms▪ Which I began anew, Jan. 31. 1662. and finisht the 3 of June 1665.
• * 1.6

  Mris Mary Beal.
• * 1.7

  Mris Kath. Philips died June 64.
• * 1.8

  To write of the Creation never attempted by a∣ny Englishman except in Ver∣sion.
• * 1.9

  The study of the Law.