T. R. Smith, comp. Poetica Erotica: Rare and Curious Amatory Verse. 1921–22.
Epithalamium
By Joannes Secundus (15111536)(Translated by George Ogle, 1731) THE HOUR is come, with pleasure crown’d | |
Borne in eternal order round: | |
Hour of endearing looks and smiles: | |
Hour of voluptuous sports and wiles; | |
Hour fraught with fondly-murmuring sighs; | 5 |
Hour blest with softly-dying eyes; | |
Hour with commingling kisses sweet; | |
Hour of transporting bliss replete; | |
Hour worthy ev’n of gods above; | |
Hour worthy all-commanding Jove; | 10 |
For not a fairer-omen’d hour | |
Could promise the kind Gnidian power; | |
Not tender Cupid could bestow, | |
The boy with silver-splendid bow, | |
And golden wing; delicious boy! | 15 |
That sorrow still always with joy. | |
Nor, wont at nuptials to preside, | |
She, that of Jove is sister-bride! | |
Nor he, on tuneful summit born, | |
The god whom flowery wreaths adorn; | 20 |
Who blooming beauty tears away, | |
Bears off by force the charming prey, | |
From the reluctant mother tears, | |
To the rapacious lover bears. | |
Hour long desired! hour long delay’d! | 25 |
Thrice happy youth! thrice happy maid! | |
Thrice happy youth supremely blest, | |
Of every wish in one possest; | |
To thee the maid of form divine | |
Comes, seeming loth, but inly thine. | 30 |
Such form as Juno’s self might choose, | |
Nor yet the martial maid refuse, | |
(Though that th’ ethereal sceptre sways, | |
And this the shining shield displays,) | |
Nor yet the Cyprian queen disdain, | 35 |
Bent to re-seek the Phrygian swain, | |
And cause of beauty re-decide, | |
In shady vale of flowering Ide. | |
How sure to gain the golden prize, | |
(Though judged by less discerning eyes,) | 40 |
She, in that matchless form array’d! | |
Thrice happy youth! thrice happy maid! | |
Thrice happy maid; supremely blest, | |
Of every wish in one possest; | |
To thee, on wings of love and truth, | 45 |
Comes, all-devote, the raptured youth. | |
Thy bending neck with eager hold, | |
Thy waist, impatient to enfold. | |
While, for that hair of easy flow, | |
While, for that breast of virgin snow, | 50 |
While, for that lip of rosy dye, | |
While, for that sweetly-speaking eye, | |
With silent passion he expires, | |
And burns with still consuming fires; | |
Now Phoebus, slow to quit the skies, | 55 |
Now loit’ring Phoebe, slow to rise | |
Persists, alternate, to upbraid. | |
Thrice happy youth! thrice happy maid! | |
See where the maid, all-panting, lies, | |
(Ah! never more a maid to rise!) | 60 |
And longs, yet trembles at thy tread; | |
Her cheeks suffused with decent red; | |
Expressing half her inward flame! | |
Half springing from ingenuous shame! | |
Tears from her eyes, perhaps, may steal, | 65 |
Her joys the better to conceal; | |
Then sighs, with grief unreal fraught, | |
Then follow plaints of wrongs unthought. | |
But cease not thou with idle fears, | |
For all her plaints, or sighs, or tears. | 70 |
Kiss’d be the tears from off her eyes; | |
With tender murmurs stopp’d her sighs; | |
With soothings soft her plaints allay’d. | |
Thrice happy youth! thrice happy maid. | |
The maid, in decent order placed, | 75 |
With every bridal honour graced, | |
Through all her limbs begin to spread | |
The glowings of the genial bed; | |
And languid sleep dispose to take, | |
Did not the youth, more watchful, wake, | 80 |
And the mild queen of fierce desire, | |
With warmth not disproportion’d, fire: | |
Taught hence, nor purpled kings to prize? | |
Nor scepter’d Jove, that rules the skies. | |
Soon for soft combats he prepares, | 85 |
And gentle toils of amorous wars. | |
Declared, but with no dreaded arms; | |
Kisses! which, wanton as he strays, | |
He darts a thousand wanton ways, | |
At mouth or neck, at eyes or cheeks. | 90 |
Him humbly, she full oft bespeaks, | |
Entreats, “a helpless maid to spare!” | |
And begs, with trembling voice, “Forbear!” | |
Full oft his rudeness loudly blames, | |
His boundless insolence proclaims. | 95 |
His lips, with lips averse, withstands, | |
With hands, restrains his roving hands. | |
Resistance sweet; delicious fight! | |
O night! O doubly-happy night! | |
Contention obstinate succeeds. | 100 |
The tender Loves contention feeds; | |
By that redoubled ardour burns; | |
By that redoubled strength returns. | |
Now o’er her neck take nimble flight; | |
Her breast as spotless ivory white; | 105 |
Her waist of gradual rising charms; | |
Soft-moulded legs; smooth-polish’d arms: | |
Search all the tracts, in curious sport, | |
Conductive to the Cyprian court. | |
Through all the dark recesses go, | 110 |
And all the shady coverts know. | |
To this, unnumber’d kisses join, | |
Unnumber’d as the stars that shine, | |
Commingling rays of blended light. | |
O night! O doubly-happy night! | 115 |
Then spare no blandishments of love; | |
Sounds, that with soft’ning flattery move; | |
Sighs, what with soothing murmur please, | |
The injured virgin to appease; | |
Such, as when Zephyr fans the grove, | 120 |
Or coos the am’rous billing dove; | |
Or sings the swan with tuneful breath, | |
Conscious of near approaching death; | |
Till, pierced by Cupid’s powerful dart, | |
As by degrees relents her heart, | 125 |
The virgin, less and less severe, | |
Quits, by degrees, her stubborn fear; | |
Now on your arms her neck reclines; | |
Now with her arms your neck entwines; | |
As Love’s resistless flames incite. | 130 |
O night! O doubly-happy night! | |
Sweet kisses shall reward your pains, | |
Kisses which no rude rapine stains; | |
From lips on swelling lips that swell; | |
From lips on dwelling lips that dwell; | 135 |
That play return with equal play; | |
That bliss with equal bliss repay; | |
That vital stores, from either heart, | |
Imbibing, soul for soul impart; | |
Till now the maid, adventurous grown, | 140 |
Attempts new frolics of her own; | |
Now suffers, strangers to the way, | |
Her far more daring hands to stray. | |
Now sports far more salacious seeks, | |
Now words far more licentious speaks; | 145 |
Words that past sufferings well requite. | |
O night! O doubly-happy night! | |
To arms! to arms! now Cupid sounds. | |
Now is the time for grateful wounds, | |
Here Venus waves the nimble spear— | 150 |
Venus is warlike goddess here. | |
Here not thy sister, Mars, presides, | |
Thy mistress in these conflicts prides; | |
While close engage the struggling foes, | |
And, restless, breast to breast oppose; | 155 |
While, eager, this disputes the field, | |
And that alike disdains to yield; | |
Till, lo! in breathless transports tost, | |
Till in resistless raptures lost, | |
Their limbs with liquid dews distil; | 160 |
Their hearts with pleasing horrors thrill; | |
And faint away in wild delight. | |
O night! O doubly-happy night! | |
Oh may you oft these sports renew, | |
And through long days and nights pursue! | 165 |
With many an early moon begun; | |
Prolong’d to many a setting sun. | |
May a fair offspring crown your joys, | |
Of prattling girls, and smiling boys; | |
And yet another offspring rise, | 170 |
Sweet objects to parental eyes, | |
The cares, assiduous to assuage, | |
That still solicit querulous age; | |
Careful your trembling limbs to stay, | |
That fail with unperceived decay; | 175 |
Pious, when summon’d hence you go, | |
The last kind office to bestow; | |
Office with unfeign’d sorrow paid. | |
Thrice happy youth! thrice happy maid! | |