Arthur Quiller-Couch, ed. 1919. The Oxford Book of English Verse: 1250–1900.
Samuel Daniel. 15621619112. Ulysses and the Siren
Siren. | COME, worthy Greek! Ulysses, come, | |
Possess these shores with me: | ||
The winds and seas are troublesome, | ||
And here we may be free. | ||
Here may we sit and view their toil | 5 | |
That travail in the deep, | ||
And joy the day in mirth the while, | ||
And spend the night in sleep. | ||
Ulysses. | Fair Nymph, if fame or honour were | |
To be attain’d with ease, | 10 | |
Then would I come and rest me there, | ||
And leave such toils as these. | ||
But here it dwells, and here must I | ||
With danger seek it forth: | ||
To spend the time luxuriously | 15 | |
Becomes not men of worth. | ||
Siren. | Ulysses, O be not deceived | |
With that unreal name; | ||
This honour is a thing conceived, | ||
And rests on others’ fame: | 20 | |
Begotten only to molest | ||
Our peace, and to beguile | ||
The best thing of our life—our rest, | ||
And give us up to toil. | ||
Ulysses. | Delicious Nymph, suppose there were | 25 |
No honour nor report, | ||
Yet manliness would scorn to wear | ||
The time in idle sport: | ||
For toil doth give a better touch | ||
To make us feel our joy, | 30 | |
And ease finds tediousness as much | ||
As labour yields annoy. | ||
Siren. | Then pleasure likewise seems the shore | |
Whereto tends all your toil, | ||
Which you forgo to make it more, | 35 | |
And perish oft the while. | ||
Who may disport them diversely | ||
Find never tedious day, | ||
And ease may have variety | ||
As well as action may. | 40 | |
Ulysses. | But natures of the noblest frame | |
These toils and dangers please; | ||
And they take comfort in the same | ||
As much as you in ease; | ||
And with the thought of actions past | 45 | |
Are recreated still: | ||
When Pleasure leaves a touch at last | ||
To show that it was ill. | ||
Siren. | That doth Opinion only cause | |
That ‘s out of Custom bred, | 50 | |
Which makes us many other laws | ||
Than ever Nature did. | ||
No widows wail for our delights, | ||
Our sports are without blood; | ||
The world we see by warlike wights | 55 | |
Receives more hurt than good. | ||
Ulysses. | But yet the state of things require | |
These motions of unrest: | ||
And these great Spirits of high desire | ||
Seem born to turn them best: | 60 | |
To purge the mischiefs that increase | ||
And all good order mar: | ||
For oft we see a wicked peace | ||
To be well changed for war. | ||
Siren. | Well, well, Ulysses, then I see | 65 |
I shall not have thee here: | ||
And therefore I will come to thee, | ||
And take my fortune there. | ||
I must be won, that cannot win, | ||
Yet lost were I not won; | 70 | |
For beauty hath created been | ||
T’ undo, or be undone. |