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PoetósferaLa BibliotecaRobert Herrick

Robert Herrick · Barroco

The Welcome to Sack

inglés

So soft streams meet, so springs with gladder smiles

Meet after long divorcement by the isles;

When love, the child of likeness, urgeth on

Their crystal natures to a union:

So meet stolen kisses, when the moony nights

Call forth fierce lovers to their wish'd delights;

So kings and queens meet, when desire convinces

All thoughts but such as aim at getting princes,

As I meet thee. Soul of my life and fame!

Eternal lamp of love! whose radiant flame

Out-glares the heaven's Osiris,[H] and thy gleams

Out-shine the splendour of his mid-day beams.

Welcome, O welcome, my illustrious spouse;

Welcome as are the ends unto my vows;

Aye! far more welcome than the happy soil

The sea-scourged merchant, after all his toil,

Salutes with tears of joy, when fires betray

The smoky chimneys of his Ithaca.

Where hast thou been so long from my embraces,

Poor pitied exile? Tell me, did thy graces

Fly discontented hence, and for a time

Did rather choose to bless another clime?

Or went'st thou to this end, the more to move me,

By thy short absence, to desire and love thee?

Why frowns my sweet? Why won't my saint confer

Favours on me, her fierce idolater?

Why are those looks, those looks the which have been

Time-past so fragrant, sickly now drawn in

Like a dull twilight? Tell me, and the fault

I'll expiate with sulphur, hair and salt;

And, with the crystal humour of the spring,

Purge hence the guilt and kill this quarrelling.

Wo't thou not smile or tell me what's amiss?

Have I been cold to hug thee, too remiss,

Too temp'rate in embracing? Tell me, has desire

To thee-ward died i' th' embers, and no fire

Left in this rak'd-up ash-heap as a mark

To testify the glowing of a spark?

Have I divorc'd thee only to combine

In hot adult'ry with another wine?

True, I confess I left thee, and appeal

'Twas done by me more to confirm my zeal

And double my affection on thee, as do those

Whose love grows more inflam'd by being foes.

But to forsake thee ever, could there be

A thought of such-like possibility?

When thou thyself dar'st say thy isles shall lack

Grapes before Herrick leaves canary sack.

Thou mak'st me airy, active to be borne,

Like Iphiclus, upon the tops of corn.

Thou mak'st me nimble, as the winged hours,

To dance and caper on the heads of flowers,

And ride the sunbeams. Can there be a thing

Under the heavenly Isis[I] that can bring

More love unto my life, or can present

My genius with a fuller blandishment?

Illustrious idol! could th' Egyptians seek

Help from the garlic, onion and the leek

And pay no vows to thee, who wast their best

God, and far more transcendent than the rest?

Had Cassius, that weak water-drinker, known

Thee in thy vine, or had but tasted one

Small chalice of thy frantic liquor, he,

As the wise Cato, had approv'd of thee.

Had not Jove's son,[J] that brave Tirynthian swain,

Invited to the Thesbian banquet, ta'en

Full goblets of thy gen'rous blood, his sprite

Ne'er had kept heat for fifty maids that night.

Come, come and kiss me; love and lust commends

Thee and thy beauties; kiss, we will be friends

Too strong for fate to break us. Look upon

Me with that full pride of complexion

As queens meet queens, or come thou unto me

As Cleopatra came to Anthony,

When her high carriage did at once present

To the triumvir love and wonderment.

Swell up my nerves with spirit; let my blood

Run through my veins like to a hasty flood.

Fill each part full of fire, active to do

What thy commanding soul shall put it to;

And till I turn apostate to thy love,

Which here I vow to serve, do not remove

Thy fires from me, but Apollo's curse

Blast these-like actions, or a thing that's worse.

When these circumstants shall but live to see

The time that I prevaricate from thee.

Call me the son of beer, and then confine

Me to the tap, the toast, the turf; let wine

Ne'er shine upon me; may my numbers all

Run to a sudden death and funeral.

And last, when thee, dear spouse, I disavow,

Ne'er may prophetic Daphne crown my brow.

Convinces, overcomes.

Ithaca, the home of the wanderer Ulysses.

Iphiclus won the foot-race at the funeral games of Pelias.

Circumstants, surroundings.

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Por su autor
Robert Herrick · 352 piezas más en la casa
Dónde vive
La Biblioteca

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Expediente

Autor
Robert Herrick (1591–1674) · Wikidata Q553554
Título
The Welcome to Sack
Lengua
inglés
Época
Barroco
Sala
La Biblioteca
Identificador
ws-en-the-welcome-to-sack--robert-herrick-c2ec7c
Cita recomendada
Robert Herrick, «The Welcome to Sack», Poetósfera, poetosfera.com/p/ws-en-the-welcome-to-sack--robert-herrick-c2ec7c.html

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