Fortunae fugiens iras oculosque virorum Sicubi desertum me miserumque fleo; Sive deûm irrito frustra clamoribus aures, Meque tuens fatis imprecor omne malum; Vellem ubi me natum spe cum meliore fuisse. Huius amicitiis, illius ore, parem, Artemve alterius vel idonea tempora nactum, Quoque meum magis est hoc minus omne placet; Tum, per eas idem curas me paene perosus, Forte tui memini, laetaque cuncta reor; Ac feror in cantus ut inerte a caespite surgens Mane novo ad caeli cantat alauda fores. Ditat enim sic ipse tui me sensus amoris Vt mihi tum regum despiciantur opes.
Cum sedeo meditans, et corda silentia dulce Acta repraesentant praeteritosque dies, Deesse gemo permulta, olim quaesita, dolorque Tempus ob effusum fit novus ille mihi. Tum lacrimis desueta opplentur lumina caros Propter eos, longa qui mihi nocte silent; Flere queo exstinctos et amores, flere parata Gaudia non parvo, sed fugitiva tamen. Tum renovare libet distantis temporis iras, Nominaque accepti dinumerare mali; Omnia quae lacrimis rursum solvenda videntur, Tanquam eadem nullis ante soluta forent. Sed meminisse tui per tot, carissime, curas Omnia compensat damna, fugitque dolor.
Thy bosom is endeared with all hearts Which I by lacking have supposed dead; And there reigns love and all love's loving parts, And all those friends which I thought buried. How many a holy and obsequious tear Hath dear religious love stol'n from mine eye, As interest of the dead, which now appear But things removed that hidden in thee lie! Thou art the grave where buried love doth live, Hung with the trophies of my lovers gone, Who all their parts of me to thee did give: That due of many now is thine alone: Their images I loved I view in thee, And thou, all they, hast all the all of me.
If thou survive my well-contented day, When that churl Death my bones with dust shall cover, And shalt by fortune once more re-survey These poor rude lines of thy deceased lover, Compare them with the bettering of the time, And though they be outstripp'd by every pen, Reserve them for my love, not for their rime, Exceeded by the height of happier men.
O, then vouchsafe me but this loving thought: 'Had my friend's Muse grown with this growing age, A dearer birth than this his love had brought,
To march in ranks of better equipage:
But since he died and poets better prove,
Theirs for their style I'll read, his for his love.'
Quos desiderium finxit periisse meorum Morte, tuum pectus, carius inde, tenent; Omnis ibi pietas et munus amabile regnat, Cordaque amicorum quae data rebar humo. Quot lacrimas autem veras ad triste sepulcrum Ex oculo elicuit relligiosus amor,
His velut exstinctis; quae tantum novimus esse Mota situ, in te nam viva latere tamen. Pectus, amicitiae custos ac vita sepultae, Tu mihi carorum pignora quanta capis! Hi tibi legavere in me sua; debita multis Quae fuit, ad te nunc ius redit omne rei. Tot facies caras in te contemplor, habesque Has ubi tecum omnes, sum tuus omnis ego.
![[ocr errors]](https://books.google.nl/books/content?id=UzFAAAAAIAAJ&hl=nl&output=html_text&pg=PA33&img=1&zoom=3&q=editions:HARVARDHN4QKW&cds=1&sig=ACfU3U1MjnjX92fmZHzrnz3j79b0bn2ztA&edge=0&edge=stretch&ci=86,1109,9,11)
Me bene contentis superes si, care, diebus, Haec ubi mors atrox texerit ossa solo; Ac relegas iterum fortasse hoc carminis ipsum Quod rude panxisset, iam tibi raptus, amans; Cum meliore die lectum conferre memento,
Victumque a calamo quoque tuere tamen. Tactus amore mei facias, non carminis arte, Magnorum ingeniis cesserit illa virûm. Comiter o tum fare, 'mei si versus amici 'Robore crevisset cum meliore die, Ediderat pietas aliquid felicius ista,
'Aptius et iunctos fecerat ire pedes.
Quando obiit, meliusque novi scripsere poetae, Hos arte egregios, hunc pietate, legam.'
Full many a glorious morning have I seeh Flatter the mountain-tops with sovereign eye, Kissing with golden face the meadows green, Gilding pale streams with heavenly alchemy; Anon permit the basest clouds to ride With ugly wrack on his celestial face, And from the forlorn world his visage hide, Stealing unseen to west with this disgrace: Even so my sun one early morn did shine With all-triumphant splendour on my brow; But, out alack! he was but one hour minę, The region cloud hath mask'd him from me now. Yet him for this my love no whit disdaineth; Suns of the world may stain when heaven's sun staineth.
Why didst thou promise such a beauteous day, And make me travel forth without my cloak, To let base clouds o'ertake me in my way, Hiding thy bravery in their rotten smoke?
'T is not enough that through the cloud thou break, To dry the rain on my storm-beaten face, For no man well of such a salve can speak That heals the wound and cures not the disgrace: Nor can thy shame give physic to my grief; Though thou repent, yet I have still the loss: The offender's sorrow lends but weak relief To him that bears the strong offence's cross. Ah! but those tears are pearl which thy love sheds, And they are rich and ransom all ill deeds.
Saepe diem vidi, splendens ut mane niteret Blanditus summis regius ore iugis; Pascua caelesti viridantia tangeret auro, Auro caeruleas pingeret amnis aquas. Qui breve post tempus nimborum obscaena sinebat Agmina in aetherio turpiter ore vehi; Mox faciem miseris abdens mortalibus ibat Occiduum furtim sic maculatus iter.
Haud aliter quodam in frontem mihi mane refulsit Qui veluti vitae sol erat ipse meae;
Sed miserum, meus esse unam modo perstitit horam, Abditur in nubis iam regione diu.
Necdum ideo contemnit amor; solemque nigrare Fas puto mortalem, si nigret ille deus.
Cur faceres tu me placidae dans omina lucis Tam male munitum vestibus ire foras, Opprimeret nubes ut euntem obscaena, tuusque Turpibus in fumis occuleretur honos? Nec quod ea velles interdum erumpere nube Purgavit madidas id satis imbre genas; Non ita; nemo hominum laudat fomenta, receptum Dedecus intactum quae remanere sinant. At pudet admissi; sed quae medicamina quaeso Sunt ea? non explet damna recepta pudor. Quod pudeat sontes illi fit tenue levamen Grande iniustitiae qui tolerabit onus. At flesti; ah, lacrimae pietas est aurea, flesti; Omniaque his opibus furta piavit amor.
« VorigeDoorgaan » |