What living Face does more Distress or Woe,
More finish'd Shame, Confusion, Horror know,
Than what the Mafters of the Pencil fhow?
But vulgar Hands may vulgar Likeness raife;
This is the least Attendant on thy Praife:
From hence the Rudiments of Art began,
A Coal, or Chalk, firft imitated Man:
Perhaps the Shadow, taken on a Wall,
Gave Out-Lines to the rude Original ;
E'er Canvas yet was ftain'd; before the Grace
Of blended Colours found their Ufe and Place,
Or Cypress Tablets first receiv'd a Face.
By flow Degrees the God-like Art advanc'd,
As Man grew polish'd, Picture was inhanc'd,
Greece added Pofture, Shade, and Perspective,
And then the Mimick-Piece began to live:
Yet Perspective was lame: no Distance true:
But all came forward in one common View :
No Point of Light was known; no Rounds of Art ;
When Light was there it knew not to depart,
But glaring on remoter Objects play'd;
Not languifh'd, and infenfibly decay'd.
Long Time the Sifter Arts, in Iron Sleep,
A heavy Sabbath did fupinely keep:
At length, in Raphael's Age at once they rife,
Stretch all their Limbs, and open all their Eyes.
Thence rose the Roman, and the Lombard Line,
One colour'd beft, and one did best design.
Raphael's, like Homer's, was the nobler Part,
But Titian's Painting look'd like Virgil's Art.
A ftately Palace built of fquared Brick, Which cunningly was without Morter laid, Whoes Walls were high, but nothing strong nor thick, And golden foile all over them difplaid,
That pureft Sky with brightnefs they difmaid:
High lifted up were many lofty Towres,
And goodly galleries farre over laid,
Full of faire windows and delightful bowres :
And on the top a Dyall told the timely howres
It was a goodly heap for to behold,
And fpake the praises of the workmans wit;
But full great pity, that fo fair a Mould
Did on fo weak foundation ever fit ;
For on a fandy hill that still did Air,
And fall away; it mounted was full hie,
That every breath of Heaven shaked it,
And all the hinder parts that few could fpie,
Were ruinous and old, but painted cunningly. Spen.
PALACE of SLEEP.
To Morpheus House doth haftily repaire Amid the bowels of the Earth full steep
And lowe, where dawning day doth never peep, His dwelling is; there Thethys his wet bed
Doth ever wash, and Cynthia still doth steep
In filver dew his ever-drouping head,
Whiles fad night over him her mantles black doth
Whofe double Gates he findeth locked faft, The one faire fram'd with burnisl'd Ivory : The other all with filver over caft;
And wakefull dogges before them farre doe lye,
Watching to banish Care their enemy,
Who oft is wout to trouble gentle fleep.
By them the fpright doth pafs in quietly,
And unto Morpheus comes, whome drownded deep In drowfie fit he findes of nothing he takes keep
And more to lull him in his flumbers foft,
A trickling ftream from high rock tumbling down, And ever drizling raine upon the loft,
Mixt with a murmering wind, much like the found,
Of swarming Bees, did cast him in a fwoone :
No other noise, nor Peoples troublous cryes,
As ftill are wont t'annoy the walled town,
Might there be heard: but careless quiet lies,
Wrapt in eternall Silence, farre from enemies. Spen.
Add we one Master-piece of Art he said,
Earth, Heav'n, and all ye Gods afford your Aid,
Your each Perfection join, and form one lovely Maid.,
He fpoke, and ftrait obedient to his Word,
Each willing Species to the Work concurr'd;
The cryftal Orbs of Ether first prepare
The Limbs and Subftance for the future Fair, (Hair.
While the Sun curl'd his Beams,and hung 'em for her
Her Front like Marble smooth, like Lillies white,
Fair Cynthia lufter'd o'er with filver Light;
Upon her Cheeks, Aurora Rofes fpread;
And dy'd 'em in the Morning's brightest red;
Venus the fweetly charming Smile impreft,
And her foft Lips with balmy Pleasures bleft:
While Love, the God himself, o'er all the Mafs,
Dancing delightful, fhow'd his heav'nly Face,
1 Led on the laughing Joys, and ev'ry fister Grace.
Thus form'd, thus finish'd out the beauteous Whole,
Creating Fove infus'd the living Soul 1;
And fince from every God the Graces came,
He bad Pandora be the fair-one's Name.
Pandora tainted by an impious Age,
Perfu'd each fond Defire, and each fantaftic Rage :
Curious to know, the Box disturb'd her rest,
Jove's hard Commands fat heavy on her Breaft,
And Woman, Woman the frail Nymph confeft:
Refolv'd at length, whatever Jove forbid,
She eas'd her longing Mind, and broke the Lid :
When fteaming, ftrait a deadly Vapour rofe,
Long Trains of waiting Plagues it did difclofe,
Difeafes, Miferies, and mortal Woes.
First the fell Poyfon feiz'd the curious Maid,
First on her Youth, her blooming Rofes prey'd;
Her Eyes no more their ftarry Fires could boaft,
But dim and dull in cloudy Mifts were loft;
No Part was left untainted in the whole,
But all that once was fair, was loathsom now and foul.
Nor ftopt the Ruin with the wretched Maid,
But growing ftill, around diffusive stray'd;
Error, Difeafe, and Death, like Victors dread,
Wide-waftings o'er the World, their Legions fpread,
And vanquish'd Minds and Bodies captive led.
Hid in deep Shades benighted Reafon lay,
Shut from the Beams of Truths ethereal Day.
From that fad Era Ignorance began,
Thence a dull Train of doubting Ages ran,
And Beauty's facred Form remains unknown.
So on he fares, and to the Border comes Of Eden, where delicious Paradise,
Now nearer, crowns with her Enclosure green,
As with a rural Mound, the Champian Head
Of a steep Wilderness; whofe hairy Sides,
With Thicket over-grown, Grotefque and wild,
Access deny'd and over-head up-grew
Infuperable Height of loftiest Shade:
Cedar, and Pine, and Fir, and branching Palm;
A Sylvan Scene: and as the Ranks afcend
Shade above Shade, a woody Theatre,
Of stateliest View; and higher than their Tops
The verd'rous Wall of Paradife up-fprung:
And higher than that Wall a circling Row
Of goodlieft Trees, loaden with fairest Fruit
Bloffoms and Fruits at once of golden Hue,
Appear'd with gay enamel'd Colours mix'd:
On which the Sun more glad imprefs'd his Beams,
Than on fair ev'ning Cloud, or humid Bow,
When God has shower'd the Earth: fo lovely feem'd
That Landscape. And of pure, now purer Air
Meets his Approach, and to the Heart infpires
Vernal Delight and Joy, able to drive
All Sadnefs, but Defpair: Now gentle Gales,
Fanning their odoriferous Wings, difpenfe
Native Perfumes, and whisper whence they stole
Thofe balmy Spoils. As when to them who fail
Beyond the Cape of Hope, and now are paft
Mozambick; Off at Sea North-Eaft Winds blow
Sabean Odours from the fpicy Shore
Of Arabie the Bleft, with fuch Delay
Well-pleas'd,they flack their Courfe; and many a League
Chear'd with the grateful Smell, old Ocean fmiles.
So entertain❜d thofe od'rous Sweets the Fiend.
A blifsful Field, circled with Groves of Myrrh,
And flowing Odours, Caffia, Nard, and Balm;
A Wilderness of Sweets! for Nature here,
Wanton'd as in her Prime; and play'd at Will
Her Virgin Fancies; pouring forth more Sweet,
Wild, above Rule or Art, enormous Blifs!
Out of this fertile Ground God caus'd to grow
All Trees of nobleft Kind for Sight, Smell, Tafte,
And all amidst them ftood the Tree of Life,
High eminent, blooming Ambrofial Fruit
Of vegetable Gold; and next to Life,
Our Death, the Tree of Knowledge grew faft by.
Southward thro' Eden went a River large,
Nor chang'd his Courfe, but thro' the fhaggy Hill
Pafs'd underneath ingulf'd; and thence thro' Veins
Of porous Earth, with kindly Thirft up-drawn,
Rofe a fresh Fountain, and with many a Rill
Water'd the Garden; thence united fell
Down the steep Glade, and met the nether Flood.
But Oh! what Art can tell
How from that Saphir Fount the crifped Brook,
Rolling on Orient Pearls, and Sands of Gold,
With many Errour, under pendant Shades,
Ran Nectar; visiting each Plant, and fed
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