T. R. Smith, comp. Poetica Erotica: Rare and Curious Amatory Verse. 1921–22.
To Armida
By Thomas Brown (16621704)(From Works in Prose and Verse, 1730) EASY to love, much easier to change, | |
Uncircumscribed my wanton passions range. | |
With sure success each fair enchanter sets, | |
Toils for my heart, and spreads her blooming nets; | |
The faithless wanton soon a freedom gains, | 5 |
And from another feels repeated chains. | |
To every saint I most devoutly fall, | |
My superstitious love adores them all; | |
I swear by love, and by the pain he brings, | |
My soul’s inconstant as the wanton’s wings; | 10 |
No lovely maid could ever fix my mind, | |
Or all my heart in love’s soft circles bind; | |
Too partial fate, to frame my soul for joys, | |
Which my uncertain temper soon destroys: | |
Whilst for each fair successively I burn, | 15 |
My roving heart meets no sincere return. | |
Come then, great God of Love, and take my part, | |
And fix forever my inconstant heart; | |
Why will you see your faithful slave abused, | |
The pleasing pain of loving long refused? | 20 |
Why must I make my solemn vows in vain? | |
I, who your empire did so well maintain? | |
I, who so far did love’s soft power extend, | |
And made the chaste before your altars bend? | |
Hear but this once with a propitious ear, | 25 |
And by yourself, and Venus’ eyes, I swear, | |
A thousand offerings each returning day | |
My grateful heart shall most devoutly pay; | |
Hear me, Great God, and grant my last request, | |
Since no terrestrial maid can charm my breast; | 30 |
Make one on purpose, and from every fair | |
Some beauty snatch, to make the charmer rare; | |
There to begin, whence love himself does rise, | |
Let her have Sylvia’s kind engaging eyes, | |
In which dear circles all incentives move | 35 |
To cause, confirm, and entertain my love. | |
His surest net, their wanton Cupid lays, | |
And as he wounds, about her eye-balls plays. | |
Sometimes how soft and charming they appear! | |
Sometimes tyrannic, with a look severe, | 40 |
They drive the worthiest lover to despair. | |
Wisdom and sense in vain her victims aid, | |
To break her chains, too strong her eyes persuade. | |
Armida’s neck with grateful motion turn, | |
Where purple streams in winding channels run; | 45 |
Next place, Serena’s white enchanting breast, | |
On which imperial Jove himself might rest; | |
To melt the touch, those lovely hills arise, | |
And every motion does our sense surprise. | |
But oh! two snowy mounts, so near her heart, | 50 |
Still keep it cold, and quench love’s hottest dart; | |
Between those hills a milky way there leads, | |
Not to the skies, or to the Elysian Meads; | |
But here’s a path to greater pleasures shown, | |
For which the Gods have oft forsook their own. | 55 |
Happy’s the man enters this sacred grove, | |
And treads the mazes of mysterious love. | |
And next, great love, below this charming breast, | |
Lesbia’s engaging belly must be placed, | |
A cupola to the most awful shrine, | 60 |
Whence comes your power, which mortals make divine. | |
This is the truest Heliconian spring, | |
By which inspired bards first learned to sing; | |
Venus her charms, Phœbus his silver bow, | |
Jove does his thunder to the poets owe. | 65 |
The gods themselves by their assistance live, | |
Eternal fame their deathless pages give. | |
If more perfections you expect below, | |
Her legs and feet must bright Almeria show. | |
Gods! how she takes me with a vast surprise! | 70 |
Oh love! how charming is thy paradise! | |
Next, over all, must Phryne’s skin be drawn | |
Lucid and clear as the first orient dawn, | |
Thro’ which most lovely and unfaithful screen | |
The various passions of the soul are seen; | 75 |
And all the tumults of her virgin breast, | |
By fear, disdain, or softer love possest. | |
To Laura’s waist, let Lydia’s air invite, | |
A dear temptation to that straight delight: | |
From her Apelles might his pattern take; | 80 |
From her alone a brighter Venus make: | |
Let her, like Chloe, tread an even pace, | |
And print, in every step she takes, a grace; | |
May she in measure like Clarinda move, | |
And sing as charming as the saints above. | 85 |
Let Laura’s air in every act appear, | |
Raising desire, and yet commanding fear. | |
And next, great God, that she may nothing want, | |
Of all that I can ask or you can grant; | |
Let her, oh let her! Like dear Clarissa kiss; | 90 |
Like her, transport me with surprising bliss. | |
Help me, ye powers of love, I faint, I die, | |
The thought screws nature to a pitch too high: | |
Scarcely my breast my fleeting soul retains, | |
And gusts of pleasure hurry through my veins. | 95 |
One touch of hers—— | |
More bliss contains than pampered prelates prove | |
In snatched embraces of forbidden love. | |
To my last prayer, propitious love, be kind, | |
And make the fair bewitching in her mind. | 100 |
Good sense and wit in the same person joined, | |
Seldom our strictest inquisitions find; | |
Unite two stocks to form the witty she, | |
Dorinda’s sense, and Flavia’s repartee. | |
The wanton God smiled on his humble slave, | 105 |
As when Adonis he his mother gave; | |
When straight heaven’s gates, by love’s supreme command, | |
Were open set; for what can love withstand? | |
Soft breezing Zephyrs bring the virgin down, | |
A gift divine that must my passion crown; | 110 |
I threw myself devoutly at her feet, | |
Where all perfections, all the graces meet; | |
But by the God commanded to arise, | |
I saw Armida, to my vast surprise, | |
So rich in charms, and so divine her air, | 115 |
The queen of love was scarce herself so fair; | |
With eager arms I clasped the lovely maid, | |
My humble thanks to mighty love I paid, | |
And as I wanted nothing else, for nothing prayed. | |