"But for modesty,
I should fall foul in words upon fond man,
That can forget his excellence and honour,
His serious meditations, being the end
Of his creation, to learn well to die;
And live a PRISONER TO A WOMAN'S EYE."
<50.4> Original reads GODS; the present word is substituted
in accordance with a MS. copy of the song printed by the late
Dr. Bliss, in his edition of Woods ATHENAE. If Dr. Bliss had
been aware of the extraordinary corruptions under which the text
of LUCASTA laboured, he would have had less hesitation in adopting
BIRDS as the true reading. The "Song to Althea," is a favourable
specimen of the class of composition to which it belongs; but
I fear that it has been over-estimated.
<50.5> Percy very unnecessarily altered LIKE COMMITTED LINNETS
to LINNET-LIKE CONFINED (Percy's RELIQUES, ii. 247; Moxon's ed.)
Ellis (SPECIMENS OF EARLY ENGLISH POETS, ed. 1801, iii. 252)
says that this latter reading is "more intelligible." It is not,
however, either what Lovelace wrote, or what (it may be presumed)
he intended to write, and nothing, it would seem, can be clearer
than the passage as it stands, COMMITTED signifying, in fact,
nothing more than CONFINED. It is fortunate for the lovers
of early English literature that Bp. Percy had comparatively
little to do with it. Emendation of a text is well enough;
but the wholesale and arbitrary slaughter of it is quite another
matter.
SONNET.
TO GENERALL GORING,<51.1> AFTER THE PACIFICATION AT BERWICKE.
A LA CHABOT.<51.2>
I.
Now the peace is made at the foes rate,<51.3>
Whilst men of armes to kettles their old helmes translate,
And drinke in caskes of honourable plate.
In ev'ry hand [let] a cup be found,
That from all hearts a health may sound
To GORING! to GORING! see 't goe round.
II.
He whose glories shine so brave and high,
That captive they in triumph leade each care and eye,
Claiming uncombated the victorie,
And from the earth to heav'n rebound,
Fixt there eternall as this round:
To GORING! to GORING! see him crown'd.
III.
To his lovely bride, in love with scars,
Whose eyes wound deepe in peace, as doth his sword in wars;
They shortly must depose the Queen of Stars:
Her cheekes the morning blushes give,
And the benighted world repreeve;
To LETTICE! to LETTICE! let her live.
IV.
Give me scorching heat, thy heat, dry Sun,
That to this payre I may drinke off an ocean:
Yet leave my grateful thirst unquensht, undone;
Or a full bowle of heav'nly wine,
In which dissolved stars should shine,
To the couple! to the couple! th' are divine.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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