The Poetical Works of Elijah Fenton/The Dream. Imitated from Propertius
THE DREAM.
IMITATED FROM PROPERTIUS, B. III. ELEGY 3.
To green retreats, that shade the Muses' Stream,
My fancy lately bore me in a Dream;
Fir'd with ambitious zeal, my harp I strung,
And Blenheim's field and fam'd Ramillia sung;
Fast by that spring where Spenser sat of old, 5
And great exploits in lofty numbers told.
Phœbus, in his Castalian grotto laid,
O'er which a laurel cast her silken shade,
Spy'd me, and hastily when first he spy'd,
Thus, leaning on his golden lyre, he cry'd: 10
"What strange ambition has misplac'd thee there?
"Forbear to sing of arms, alas! forbear;
"Form'd in a gentler mould, henceforth employ
"Thy pen to paint the softer scenes of joy:
"Thy Works may thus the myrtle garland wear, 15
"Preferr'd to grace the toilets of the fair:
"When their lov'd youths at night too long delay,
"In reading thee they'll pass the hours away;
"And when they'd make their melting wishes known,
"Repeat thy passion to reveal their own. 20
"Then haste the safer shallows to regain,
"Nor dare the stormy dangers of the main."
Ceasing with this reproof, the friendly god
A mossy path, but lightly beaten, show'd:
A cave there was, which Nature's hand alone 25
Had arch'd, with greens of various kinds o'ergrown;
With timbrels all the vaulted roofs were grac'd,
And earthen gods on either fide were plac'd:
Silenus and the Muses' virgin-train
Stood here, with Pan, the poet of the plain; 30
Elsewhere the doves of Cytherea's team
Were seen to sip the sweet Castalian stream.
Nine lovely nymphs a several task pursu'd,
For ivy one was sent to search the wood;
This to soft numbers join'd harmonious airs, 35
And fragrant rosy wreaths a third prepares.
Me thus the bright Calliope address'd;
(Her name the brightness of her form confess'd)
"The silver swans of Venus wait to bear
"Thee safe in pomp along the liquid air. 40
"Pleas'd with thy peaceful province, straight recall
"Thy rash design to sing the wounded Gaul.
"Harsh sounds the trumpet in the Muses' grove,
"But sweet the lute; the lute is fit for love.
"No more rehearse the Danube's purple stream, 45
"Let love for ever be the tender theme,
"And in thy verse reveal the moving art
"To melt an haughty nymph's relentless heart."
The goddess ceasing, to confirm me more,
My face with hallow'd drops she sprinkled o'er, 50
Fetch'd from the fountain by whose flow'ry side
Soft Waller sung of Sacharissa's pride. 52
My fancy lately bore me in a Dream;
Fir'd with ambitious zeal, my harp I strung,
And Blenheim's field and fam'd Ramillia sung;
Fast by that spring where Spenser sat of old, 5
And great exploits in lofty numbers told.
Phœbus, in his Castalian grotto laid,
O'er which a laurel cast her silken shade,
Spy'd me, and hastily when first he spy'd,
Thus, leaning on his golden lyre, he cry'd: 10
"What strange ambition has misplac'd thee there?
"Forbear to sing of arms, alas! forbear;
"Form'd in a gentler mould, henceforth employ
"Thy pen to paint the softer scenes of joy:
"Thy Works may thus the myrtle garland wear, 15
"Preferr'd to grace the toilets of the fair:
"When their lov'd youths at night too long delay,
"In reading thee they'll pass the hours away;
"And when they'd make their melting wishes known,
"Repeat thy passion to reveal their own. 20
"Then haste the safer shallows to regain,
"Nor dare the stormy dangers of the main."
Ceasing with this reproof, the friendly god
A mossy path, but lightly beaten, show'd:
A cave there was, which Nature's hand alone 25
Had arch'd, with greens of various kinds o'ergrown;
With timbrels all the vaulted roofs were grac'd,
And earthen gods on either fide were plac'd:
Silenus and the Muses' virgin-train
Stood here, with Pan, the poet of the plain; 30
Elsewhere the doves of Cytherea's team
Were seen to sip the sweet Castalian stream.
Nine lovely nymphs a several task pursu'd,
For ivy one was sent to search the wood;
This to soft numbers join'd harmonious airs, 35
And fragrant rosy wreaths a third prepares.
Me thus the bright Calliope address'd;
(Her name the brightness of her form confess'd)
"The silver swans of Venus wait to bear
"Thee safe in pomp along the liquid air. 40
"Pleas'd with thy peaceful province, straight recall
"Thy rash design to sing the wounded Gaul.
"Harsh sounds the trumpet in the Muses' grove,
"But sweet the lute; the lute is fit for love.
"No more rehearse the Danube's purple stream, 45
"Let love for ever be the tender theme,
"And in thy verse reveal the moving art
"To melt an haughty nymph's relentless heart."
The goddess ceasing, to confirm me more,
My face with hallow'd drops she sprinkled o'er, 50
Fetch'd from the fountain by whose flow'ry side
Soft Waller sung of Sacharissa's pride. 52