T. R. Smith, comp. Poetica Erotica: Rare and Curious Amatory Verse. 1921–22.
Hymn to the Kiss
By Joannes Secundus (15111536)(Translated by George Ogle) O CHOICEST gift of heav’nly kind!I | |
O, sacred source of joy refin’d! | |
Thou latent spring, whose vast control | |
Extends throughout the boundless whole! | |
Attraction strong! all-powerful cause, | 5 |
Enforcing Nature’s hidden laws! | |
Thou magic lightning, that canst burn | |
What-e’er you touch, where-e’er you turn! | |
Touch but the lips, and you dispense | |
The brisk alarm thro’ ev’ry sense: | 10 |
Come, hover round my tuneful lyre, | |
And ev’ry swelling note inspire; | |
So shall the warmth my strains express | |
Thy rapture-giving pow’r confess. | |
II To those, who own your gentle sway, | 15 |
You darts of pleasing flame convey; | |
Your kindling sparks, that ne’er can die, | |
Blind Cupid’s burning torch supply: | |
How dull the spring of life wou’d prove, | |
Without the kiss that waits on love! | 20 |
Youth first to thee its homage pays, | |
Becomes enlighten’d from thy rays; | |
And, hast’ning by your fost’ring fires | |
The birth of all the gay desires, | |
From youthful lips you soon receive | 25 |
The richest harvests lips can give. | |
III Far from the world’s more glaring eye, | |
What crowds of wretched beings lie; | |
Who seem in dull oblivion doom’d | |
For ever to remain entomb’d! | 30 |
To them no zephyr’s balmy wing | |
Refreshing gales, or sweets can bring; | |
No rip’ning crops of golden grain | |
For them adorn the waving plain: | |
Yet, thy persuasive magic binds | 35 |
To this terrestrial orb their minds; | |
And bids them, in their gloomy state, | |
Smile, nor regret their piteous fate. | |
IV The flow’rs, that in yon meadow grow, | |
To thee their bloom, their fragrance owe; | 40 |
The blossom’d shrubs, in gaudy dress, | |
Thy genial warmth, thy pow’r confess; | |
The stream, that winds along the grove, | |
And courts the shore with waves of love, | |
Is taught by thee the fond embrace, | 45 |
By thee is taught each rural grace: | |
On gently-parted lips, say, why | |
Is plac’d the rose’s beauteous dye? | |
Because, on that soft seat of bliss | |
Abides the rosy-breathing kiss. | 50 |
V Let rigid scruple furl her brow, | |
And blame the comforts you bestow: | |
The sage, the hero, thee obey; | |
Nay, legislators own thy sway. | |
See, threat’ning Cæsar mounts his car, | 55 |
To join th’ embattled sons of war; | |
Swift from the capitol he flies, | |
And ev’ry hostile warrior dies: | |
But soon he quits the bleeding plain, | |
With transport hugs fair beauty’s chain, | 60 |
And, e’en beneath his laurel’s shade, | |
Caresses many a Roman maid. | |
VI Could Mahomet, whose dauntless soul | |
Superior rose to all control, | |
Whose breast was fir’d with hope sublime, | 65 |
Who thought that ignorance and crime | |
Were destin’d o’er this globe t’ have reign’d; | |
Could that stern victor have sustain’d | |
The harsh, fatiguing toil of arms; | |
Had not his houris’ soothing charms, | 70 |
And tender kisses, lull’d to rest | |
The martial tumults of his breast; | |
If the seraglio of this earth | |
Had not to those sweet joys giv’n birth, | |
Which, in the paradise of love, | 75 |
The prophet hop’d to taste above? | |
VII But tow’ring domes, that strike the eyes | |
With outward grandeur, you despise; | |
There stormy passions govern sense, | |
And banish tender feelings thence. | 80 |
Say, couldst thou well-contented lie | |
On lips with shrivell’d coldness dry, | |
On lips, that no bright purple wear! | |
But pal’d by sickness, or by care? | |
The gilded ceilings, beds of state, | 85 |
The gaudy chambers of the great, | |
Th’ embroider’d cushions they display, | |
Must fright the gentle kiss away. | |
VIII Fly to the rural, shadowy dells: | |
There peace in calm retirement dwells; | 90 |
And, underneath the beech’s shade, | |
Thy am’rous secrets are display’d; | |
There, on the hay-mow, or the grass, | |
Sport the fond youth, and fonder lass; | |
There, unconstrain’d in frolic play, | 95 |
A kiss they lend, a kiss repay; | |
Pleasures so num’rous round them flow, | |
Envy can ne’er the number know; | |
Nor are the lips’ sweet joys deny’d | |
By prudes, affecting virtuous pride. | 100 |
IX Tho’ tempted hence your flight to take, | |
My humble mansion ne’er forsake; | |
To you if constant I remain, | |
Let kindness recompense my pain! | |
Around my youth fresh flow’rets shed, | 105 |
Till age shall silver o’er my head; | |
Then softly fan my drooping fires, | |
And wake the half-extinct desires: | |
So mayst thou, in thy wand’rings, meet | |
Young innocence, who smiles so sweet! | 110 |
And may she all-submissive prove, | |
To thee, the guiltless guest of love! | |
X So may the nymph of gay fifteen, | |
By strict maternal eyes unseen, | |
To some sequester’d grove retire; | 115 |
There, reading, nurse her infant fire; | |
Free from a parent’s stern control, | |
Explore her newly-op’ning soul; | |
And riot o’er my am’rous page, | |
Soft-yielding to voluptuous rage! | 120 |
So may sweet dreams of rapt’rous joy | |
Her pleasing slumbers oft employ; | |
Till many a fond, illusive kiss | |
Shall almost realise the bliss! | |