Page images
PDF
EPUB

Something they do, and more I would reveal,
Which Phoebus and the Fates bid me conccal:
But this I'll tell you; dry blew cankers I
And choleric fire of hot St. Anthony,
Do foon extinguifh, and all other flames,
Whatever are their natures or their names.
My native cold and wat'ry temper fhew
Who my chill parent is, and where I grow :
Thus when the water in the joints inclos'd
Bubbles, by pain and natural heat oppos'd,
The boiling caldron my ftrong virtue rules,
And fprinkled with my dew the fury cools,

Rfemary. Touching the bite of the Tarantula. DAUNIAN Arachne! who spinn'ft all the day, Nor to Minerva will it ev'n yet give way; Whilk thy own bowels thou to lawn doft weave, What pleasure canft thou from fuch pains receive?

Why thy fad hours in fuch bafe deeds doft fpill,
Or do things fo ridiculously ill?

Why dost thou take delight to stop our breath,
Or a the ferious fports of cruel Death?
Whom thou fearce toucheft ftraight to rave he's
found;

He raves although he hardly feels thy wound.
One atom of thy poifon in the veins
Dominion foon o'er all the body gains;
Within upon the foul herfelf it preys,
Which it diftracts a thousand cruel ways:
One's filent, whilst another roars aloud;
He's fearful, th' other fights with th' gazing

crowd:

This cries, and this his fides with laughter fhakes,
A thousand habits this fame fury takes;
But all with love of dancing are poffefs'd,
All day and night they dance, and never reft;
As foon as mufic from ftruck frings rebounds,
Or the full pipes breathe forth their magic founds,
The ftiff old woman ftraight begins a round,
And the lethargic fleeper quits the ground:
The poor lame fellow, though he cannot prance
So nimble as the reit, he hops a dance:
The old man, whom this merry poifon fires,
Satyrs themselves with dancing almoft tires.
To fuch a fad frenetic dance as this
A Siren, fure, the fitteft minstrel is.
Cruel distemper! thy wild fury proves
Worft mafter of the revels which it loves;
When this fad Pyrrhic measure they begin,
Ah! what a weight hangs on their hearts within.
Tell me, Physicians! which way fhail I ease
Poor mortals of this ftrange unknown difeafe?
For me may Phoebus never more protect
(Whofe godhead you and I fo much refpect)
If I know any more (to tell you true)
Whence this dire mifchief fprings, than one of you:
But to the heart (you know it) and the brain,
Thofe diftant provinces in which I reign,
(To you, my Friends! I no falfe ftories feign.)
Auxiliary troops of fpirits I

}

Send, and the camp with fresh recruits fupply.
Many kind Plants befides me to the war
Attend, nor blush that under me they foldiers are.

The merry Baum and Rue with ferpents kills,
Cert'ry, and Saffron, from Cilician hills,
And thou, kind Birthwort! whofe aufpicious name
From thy good deeds to teeming women came;
The kind Pomegranate alfo does engage,
With her bright arms, and my dear fifter Sage.
Berries of Laurel, Myrtle, Taniarisk, ̧
Ivy nor Juniper are very brisk :

Lavender and fweet Marjoram march away,
Southernwood and Angelica do n't stay :
Plantain, the Thiftle which they Bleffed call,
And useful Wormwood, in their order fall;
Then Carrot, Anife, and white Cumin feed,
With Gith, that pretty, chafte, black rogue,

proceed:

Next Vipers'-grafs, a Plant but lately known,
And Tormentil, and Rofes red, full blown;
To which I Garlic way, and Onions, join;
All thefe to fight I lead; go, give the fign.
With indignation I am vex'd, and hate
Soft mufic that great praife fhould arrogate.
Poets will fay, 'tis true (they 're giv'n to lie)
Willing their mistress so to gratify;
But food I fay it docs, not phyfic, prove
To madmen, (witnefs all that are in love!)
She to a fhortliv'd folly does fupply
Conftant additions of new vanity;

And here (to fhew her wit and courage too)
Flatters the tyrant whom fhe fhould fubdue.
It is the greatest part of the difcafe,
That the does fo immoderately please;

"Tis

part of the discafe, that fo they throw And tofs themselves, which does for physic go, This plague itfelf is plagu'd fo night and day, That tir'd with labour, it flies quite away. I alfo lend an hand to ease her grief, When from her own flrength Nature feeks relief. "Tis fomething that I do; but truly I Think the difeafe is its own remedy.

Mint.

TAKE my advice, Men! and no riddles ufe';
Why will not you rather to speak plainly choofe?
If you 're afraid your fecrets fhould be told,
Your tongues you (that's the fureft way) may

hold.

Why fhould we Senfe, with barbarous cruelty,
Put to the rack, to make it tell a lie?
Of this just reafon I have to complain;

Old dubious faws long fince my fame do ftain.
How many ill conjectures grounded are
On this, that I must ne'er be fet in war ¶.
The reader of a thing obfcure will be
Inclin'd to carp, and to take liberty:

Hence one fays Mint Mars does entirely hate,
And Mint to Venus alfo is ingrate.

Mars loves as well to get as to destroy
Mankind, the booty of his fierce employ.
Mint from the feed all feminal virtue takes,
And of brifk men dull frigid eunuchs makes.

Ariftotle gave the world a rule, Neither eat Mint nor plant it in time of war; which being varioufly underfood by his followers, the faid Herb docs, in his fpeech, make out that it can with no enfe be interpreted to its dishonour, by telling her vistues in chee ing the fpirit, and exciting the french.

And then (to make the fpreading error creep
Farther and farther ftill) they hear I keep
Their milk from thick'nings; but how this I do,
I'll tell you on thefe terms alone, that you
Shall me before refolve how first you gain
Notions of things, then how you them retain.
This I dare boldly fay, the fire of love
With genial heat I gently do improve;
Though confiantly the noble human feed
That facred lanp with vital oil does feed:
For what to Venus e'er will faithful feem,
If heat itself an enemy you efteem?
Whether I know her Proferpine can tell,
I by my punishment am clear'd too well.
Befides, nought more the ftomach rectifies,
Or strengthens the digeftive faculties.
Such, fuch a Plant, that feeds the am'rous flame,
If Venus loves not, fhe is much to blame;
And with ingratitude the feed I may
Charge, if to me great thanks it do not pay.
But other caufes others have aflign d,
Who make the reafon which they cannot find.
They fay wounds, if I touch them, bleed anew,
And I wound wounds themfelves; 't is very true;
For I a dry aftringent pow'r retain,

By which all ulcers of their gore I drain:
I bloody-fluxes ftop; my virtues fure
The wounds that Nature's felf has made to cure :
On bites of ferpents and mad dogs I fcize,
And them (war's hurts are flight) I heal with ease.
I fcarce dare mention that from galling I,
If in the hand I 'm born, preferve the thigh.
D'ye laugh? laugh on, fo I with laughter may
Requite the fcandals which on me you lay ;
Of which fome I omit, and the true caufe
Of all will tell, (and then she made a pause.)
Though I abhor my forrows to recall,
(And here the tears down her green cheeks did
I did not always in your gardens grow,
But once a comely virgin's face could shew,
Black though I was, (Cocytus was my fire)
Yet beauty had to kindle amorous fire.
Left any one thould think this is a lie,
Ovid will tell you fo, as well as I.
My father had a pleasant fhady grove,
Where he perpetually to walk did love;
There mournful yew and fun'ral cyprefs grow,
Whofe melancholy greens no Winter know,
With other trees whofe looks their forrow fhew.
Here Pluto (Jove of th' infernal throne)
Saw me as I was walking ali alone;

He faw me, and was pleas'd; for his defire
At any face, or white or black, takes fire.
Ah! if you knew him but fo well as I,

He is an unfatiable deity;

He never ftands a tender maid to woo,

But cruelly by violence falls to.

[fall,

He caught me, though I fled till out of breath
I was; I thought he would have been my death.
What could I do? his ftrength was far above
Niine; he the strength has of his brother Jove.
in fhort, me to a fecret cave he led,
And there the ravifher get my maidenhead;
But in the midst of all his wickedness,
(How it fell out the pects don't exprefs,

Nor can you think that I, poor creature, well
The caufe, at fuch a time as that, could tell)
Lo! Proferpine, his wife, came in, and found
My wretched limbs all proftrate on the ground.
She no excufe would hear, nor me again
Let rife; but faid, there fix'd I fhould remain.
She fpake, and ftraight my body I perceiv'd
(Each limb diffolv'd) of all its strength bereav'd;
My veins are all ftraight rooted in the earth.
(From whence my ruddy ftaik receives its birth)
A blufhing crown of flow'rs adorn my head,
My leaves are jagged, of a darkish red;
And fo a lovely bed of Mint I make
In the fame pofture that he did me take.
But the infernal ravisher my fate
('Twould move a devil) did commiferate;
And his refpect for what I was to fhew,
Great virtue on my leaves he did bestow:
Rich qualities to humble me he gave,

Of which my fragrant fmell's the least I have
All this the Ancients undertood was true,
And thence their great religious caution grew:
They thought me facred to th' Infernal King,
And that 't was ominous for me to spring
In times of death and danger, nor would let
Me in the midit of war and blood be fet:
But they mistaken were; for I take care
That others be not caught in his strong fnare,
Nor pafs the Stygian lake without grey hair.

Miffeltor.

WE
ELCOME, thrice welcome, facred Misseltoe!
The greatest gift Teutates ¶ does bestow :
With more religion Druid priefts invoke
Thee, than thy facred furdy fire the oak:
Raife holy altars from the verdant ground,
And ftrow your various flow'rs all around;
Next let the priest, when to the gods he 'as paid
All due devotion, and his orifons made,
Cloth'd all in white, by the attendants be
With hands and necks rais'd to the facred tree;
Where, that he may more freely it receive,
Let him firft beg the fhrub's indulgent leave,
And when he 'as cut it with a golden hook,
Let the expecting crowd, that upward look,
Array'd in white, the falling treasure meet,
And catch it in a pure, clean, fnowy sheet;
Then let two fpotlefs bulls before him lie,
And with their grateful blood the altars dye;
Which when you 'ave done, then feaft, and dance,

and fing,

And let the wood with their loud voices ring.
Such honour had the Mificltoe, which hate
And envy to it did in gods create.
Th' Egyptian temples do not louder found,
When there again the adored heifers found;
Nor did fhe feem lefs majefty to wear
(If any tree there Milleltoe did bear)
When in Dodona's grove upon an oak
She grew, that in its hollow oracles fpoke;
For this one Plant the Ancients, above all
Protectrefs of their life did think and call;
She only from the earth loaths to be born,
And on the meaner ground to tread thinks fcorn;

Teutates and Iefus were the two greatest gods of the Gauls,

.

Nor did fhe from prolific matter come, [womb.
But, like the world, from Nothing's fruitful
Others are fet, and grow by human care,
Her leaves the product of mere Nature are;
Hence ferpents fhe of their black ftings difarms,
And baffles (man's worst poison) magic charms,
Befides all other kinds of maladies

(How numberlefs, alas!) that on us feize,
Nor wonder that all other ills it beats,
Since the Herculean fickness it defeats;
Than which none more chimera-like appears,
One part of it is dead, the other raves and tears.
This monfter the fubdues, hence 't was believ'd
(And truly though it was falfe, it was receiv'd
On no bad grounds) that leffer monsters the
Could make the trophies of her victory.
The Ancients thought fo in the infancy

O' th' world, they then knew nought of fallacy:
Nor was the then thought only to defend
And guard life's fort, but life itself to lend,

[merged small][ocr errors][merged small][merged small]

SEE how the yellow gall the delug'd eyes,
And faffron-jaundice, the whole vifage dyes!
That colour which on gold we think so fair,
That hue which most adorns the treffed hair,
When, like a tyrant it unjustly gains,
Another's throne, and there ufurping reigns,
It frightful grows, and far more beauty lacks
Than, with their faddle-nofes, dufky Blacks?
So, I fuppofe, to the gods' eyes the foul
O' th' mifer looks as yellow and as foul;
For, if with gold alone the foul's inflam'd,
It has th' aurigo from the metal nam'd.
This the almighty gods can only cure,

And reafon, more than Herbs, our minds fecure.
But th' outward jaundice does our help implore,
When with gall-floods the body 's dy'd all o'er.
I cannot tell what others do, but I
Give to that jaundice prefent remedy;
Nor do I rafhly undertake the cure,
I an affiftant have that makes me fure,
Nature's own patent gives me my command;
See, here's her own fign manual, here's her hand:
Thro' leaves, and ftalk, and roots themfelves, it goes,
The yellow blood through my whole body flows:
Whoever me diffects, would think, nay fwear,
O'erflown with gall I fick o' the jaundice were;

A docution he: cof with white wine and arnife-feeds, is faid to be excellent against the jaundice. Matthiolus fays it will cure the fame, being applied to the fules of the feet.

Mean-time my fkin all o'er is fresh and green, And colour good, as in an Herb you 'ave feen,

Upon the fame.

[fice;

TEN thousand bleffings may the gods bestow
Upon thee, tuneful fwallow! and ne'er fhew
They bear the leaft refentment of that crime
Which thou haft fuffer'd for fo long a time:
For that the ufe of a choice Plant thou 'ft taught,
Which ne'er before blind man had feen or fought,
Of thee large rent now ev'ry house receives
For th' nefts which they to thee let under th' caves.
The painted Spring's whole train on thee attend,
Yet nought thou feeft which thou canst more com-
For this it is that makes thee all things fee, [mend:
This plant a fpecial favour has for thee;
When thou com'ft, th' others come; that wont fuf-
At thy return, away this with thee flies;
Yet we to it must more engagements own;
'Tis a fmall thing to heal the eyes alone;
Ten thousand torments of our life it cures,
From which good Fortune you, blefs'd Birds! fe-
The gripes by its approach it mitigates, [cures,
And tortures of an aching tooth abates;
The golden jaundice quickly it defeats,
And with gilt arms at his own weapons beats;
Jaundice, which morbus regius they call
From a king, but falfely; 'tis tyrannical.
Foul ulcers too, that from the body bud,
This dries and drains of all their putrid blood.
A gaping wound's one lip, like any brother,
Approaches nearer, and falutes the other.
Nor do thy fhankers now, foul Luft! remain,
But all thy fhelling fcabs rub off again.
The burning cancer, and the tetter, fly,
Whilft all hot, angry, red biles, fink and dry.
Difeafes paint wears off, and places where
The Sun once printed kiffes, difappear;
Purg'd of all blemishes, the fmiling face
Is cleaner far, and smoother, than its glass.
Kind friend to th' eyes! who gives not only fight,
But with it alfo objects that delight;

She may be feen, as well as come to fee,
Whatever woman 's doubly blefs'd by thee.
The gaudy Spring by thy approach is known,
And blooming beauties thy arrival own.

Rocket.

You who in facred wedlock coupled are,
(Where all joys lawful, all joys feemly are)
Be not shy to eat of my leaves heartily;
They do not hunger only fatisfy;
They'll be a banquet to you all the night,
On them the body chews with fresh delight.
But you! chafte lads and girls, that lie alone,
And none of love's enjoyments yet have known,
Take care, and ftand aloof, if you are wife
Touch not this Plant, Venus her facrifice;
I bring a poifon for your modefties.

The extraordinary faculty of this Herb in heally g the eyes is faid to have been found out by the Swallow, who cure, its yo ing there

with.

[blocks in formation]
[blocks in formation]

And that your arms ftill ready are to do The wicked bufinefs that you put 'em to.

Let him who love would fhun from me remove,
Says Nafo, that Hippocrates in love;
Yet to his table I was duly ferv'd,
Who me, choice dainty to himself referv'd.
Prove that from love he ever would be free,
More chafte than Lettuce Il confent to be.
The praise of chastity let others keep,
And gratify the widow'd bed with fleep,
Action's my task, bold lovers to engage,
And to precipitate the fportive rage.
Frankly I own my nature, I delight
In love unmix'd and reftlefs appetite.
From curing maladies I feek no fame
(Tho' ev'n for that I might put in my claim)
Fuel I bring that pleasure may not cease:
Take that from life, and life is a difeafe.
If thus you like me, make me your repaft,
I would not gratify a Stoic's tafte;
If morals grofs and crude be your delight,
Marth-weeds can beft oblige your appetite.
Go from my Book, foul bawd of Pleafure! go,
(For what have I, lewd Bawd with thee to do )
From these chafte Herbs and their chafte poet flee;
Us thou offend', and we 're afham'd of thee.
With fuch a prostitute to come in view,
Chafte matrons think a fin and scandal too;
Blushes pale Waterlilies' cheeks o'erfpread,

To be with thee in the fame volume read,
Who fill the fad remembrance does retain
How, when a nymph, in thee the gorg'd her bane:
That very night to Alcides' arms betray'd,
Through thy deceitful force, the yielding maid.
While I but mention thee (who would believe?)
And but thy image in my thoughts conceive,
Through all my bones I felt thy lightning move,
The fure forerunner of approaching Love.
With this, of old, he us'd t attack my sense,
Before the dreadful fight he did commence;
But love and luft I now alike deteft,

My Mufe and mind with nobler themes poffefs'd.
Lafcivious Plant fome other Poet find,
For Ovid's or Catullus' verfe defign'd,
For thou in mine fhal have no place at all,
Or in the lift of pois'nous Herbs fhalt fall.
The flames of Luft of tue have no need;
His appetite without thy fauce can feed.
Love, in our very diet, finds his way,

And makes the guards that should defend, betray.
Our other ills permit our Herbs to cure,
Venus! who plague enough in thee endure;
Thofe Plants which Nature made of fex devoid,
Improperly are in thy work employ'd;

Yet Venus, too, much skill'd in impious arts, These foreign aids to her own ufe converts [ply'd, Who'd think green Plants, with conftant dew fup(Life's friends defign'd) fuch mortal flame fhould hide

What wonder, therefore, if, when monarchs feast,
Luft is of Luxury the conftant guest?

When he who with the herd on herbage fed,
Could find her lurking in the verdant bed.

¶ Pythagoras.

OF PLANTS.

BOOK II. OF HERBS.
TRANSLATED BY J. 0.

[ocr errors]

CYBELE'S holy myfteries now begin:
Hence, all you Males! for you it is a fin
One moment in this hallow'd place to stay,
You gibing Males! who no devotion pay:
Into the female fecrets do not pry,

Or them at leaft pretend you do'nt defery:
'Tis rude that fex to inspect too narrowly,
Whose outside with fuch beauty treats the eye.
Aufpicious glory of th' enlighten'd sky,
More facred than thy brother's deity,
With thy whole horns, kind Luna! favour me,
And let thy crefcent face look luckily.
Thee many names and offices adorn ;
By thy kind aid poor tender babes are born
Thou cafeft women when their labour's hard,
And the womb's vital gates you, Jana, guard,
The menftruous courfes you bring down, and them
Changing, convert into a milky ftream.
Wemen inconftant as the fea, you bind
To rules; both flow according to thy mind.
Oh! may the rivulets of my fancy glide
By the fame fecret force which move the tide;
Be thou the midwife to my teeming brain,
And let it fruitful be as free from pain.
It was the time when April decks the year,
And the glad fields in pompous garbs appear,
That the recruited Plants now leave their beds,
And at the Sun's command dare fhew their heads.
How pleas'd they are the heav'ns again to fee!
And that from Winter's fetters free!

The world around, and fifters whom they love,
They view; fuch objects fure their inules muft

move,

Straight their great work the diligent nation ply,
And bus nefs mind amidit their luxury.
Each one contends, with all her might and main,
Each day an higher verdant crown to gain;

This book tresting only of female plants, is dedicated to Cybele,
The nien is called Lacina, the Readds of Miew fery; and Jana,

At whole my erics no Gian ought to be prevent.

as the fun, Janua; and Mena, as fae is the governefs of women's

[ocr errors]

Each one does leaves with beauteous flow'rs pro-
[duce,
And haftens to be fit for human ufe.
Equipp'd, they make no ftay, but, one and all,
Intent upon th' affair, a council call.
Each tribe (for there are many) as of old
Their custom was, a feparate council hold.
They 're near a thousand tribes; their minutes well
An hundred clerk-like tongues can scarcely tell,
Nor could I know them (for they don't reveal
Their facred acts, but cautiously conceal)
Had not my Laurel told me (whose tribe's name
The Female's fil'd) which fummon'd, thither
The fecrets of the houfe the open laid, [came :
Telling how each Herb fpoke, and what it said.`
Ye gentle, florid part of humankind!
(To you and not to men I speak) pray mind
My words, and them mofl itedfaftly believe,
Which from the Delphic Laurel you receive.
'Twas midnight (whilft the moon at full fhone
bright,

And her cheeks feem'd to fwell with moisten'd light)

When on their loofen'd roots the Plants that grow
In th' Oxford Gardens did to council go,
And fuch I mean, as fuccour women's pains;
Orpheus, you'd think, had mov'd them by his
ftrains.

They met upon a bed, neat, smooth, and round,
And foftly fat in order on the ground.
Mugwort first took her place, (at that time fhe
The Prefident of the Council chanc'd to be)
Birthwort, her predeceffor in the chair,
Next fat, whofe virtues breeding women fhare;
Then Baum, with fmiles and pleasure in her face,
[ly,
Without regard to dignity, took place;
Thyme, Sav'ry, Wormwood, which looks rugged-
'Sparagus, Southernwood, both he and fhe,
And Crocus, too, glad still soft maids to cheer,
Once a fad lover, merry does appear;
And thou, Amaracus! who a trifling ill
Didst mourn, when thou the fragrant box didft

[Spill

« PreviousContinue »