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A34832
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A translation of the sixth book of Mr. Cowley's Plantarum being a poem upon the late rebellion, the happy restoration of His Sacred Majesty, and the Dutch war ensuing.; Plantarum libri sex. Book 6. English
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Cowley, Abraham, 1618-1667.
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1680
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Wing C6692; ESTC R17196
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11,830
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51
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declare Her Grief she rages foams and beats the shores 28. But she that now with so much grief and care The op'ning of the War do's apprehend Who can believe it of this fatal War With much more sorrow shall behold the End 29. Methinks I 'me mounted high on Kinton Hills The Vale beneath with a red Sea of Blood Is overflow'd and dire Bellona fills With heaps of slaughter'd Men the sanguine Flood 30. What a prodigious Harvest through the Field Is reap't by Fiery Rupert's conquering Sword What heaps are by the Pious Monarch kill'd A mourning Conqu'rour If the Fates afford 31. Still a propitious Course but this one Day To all that kind of Ills will put an End Th' o're hasty Conquest stumbling in the Way Fell e're it had the Neighbouring Goal attain'd 32. Then Mars through all the British Empire rag'd From the Lands-End to Orkney by the Sun Coldly oblig'd no place is disengag'd Posses 't with Fury all the Ruine run 33. What cruel Serpent of the Furies Brood Unhappy England did thy Health confound All thy sick Members flow with poison'd Blood That thy whole Body seems but as one Wound 34. Thrice were thy Fields unlucky Newberry With Slaughter and Destruction cover'd o're And thy sad Fame in horrour do's out-vie Philippi's Fields twice-dy'd in humane Gore 35. Long was the Ballance even held by Fate Who did of Both the nodding Ruin poise VVith mutual Slaughter and alternate Weight Of damage Equal were their Griefs and Joys 36. First Yorkshire's cruel Fight severely shakes And turns the Scales of VVar and Naseby's Field At last a VVound profound and mortal makes Never by Art or Fortune to be heal'd 37. The rest ye Gods permir me not to write But Lo a wondrous and deformed Heap Of Miseries at once invade my sight What Spoiles of War the Impious Victors reap 38. The King in a Poor rustic Habit dress't 'T was the first time he ever us'd Deceit Though greatness still his sacred Looks express't Flying the Foe flies to a Foe as Great 39. What place will to the Conquer'd help afford A King a Guest a Suppliant in vain Of his own-Country-Subjects aid implor'd Ungrateful men perfidious and prophane 40. So do's the self-wrack't Pilot freely leap Into the threatning Waves he fear'd before From out the fierce Flames of his burning Ship Whom cruel Waves again to Flames restore 41. With Prayer's and Threats the Conquerours demand The King as a just Spoil of War detain'd By fraud such Seeming proofs of Love they give You 'd think without their King they could not live 42. No less the Scots their zealous Love declare They to restore their Royal Guest deny And stifly urge and claim their right and share He 's not so vile but England yet must buy 43. Or not possesse him O unheard of Shame Which will in vain to Future Times be told The Potent Lord of Sea and Land became A Slave the Master 's to the Servant sold. 44. Far be it that this great and horrid Crime On your whole Nation Scotland should be thrown Your Virtue did the Sin of part redeem And with much Blood for Crimes of Few attone 45. Scarce did the Arms hung up in houses rest But a long Course of Civil war return'd VVho by base Tyrants saw the King oppress 't And made a Prisoner but with Anger burn'd 46. Scotland though late it did thy Anger move And the just Rage of Generous Kent inflame VVhich above life it self do's Freedom love And Wales which still maintains the Britains Fame 47. VVhy should I mention the unhappy Fights The trembling Ribla stain'd with humane Blood Or routed Scots who in their hasty Flights Did stop the very Current of the Flood 48. VVhy should I Medway swell'd with Slaughter name Or Colchester's long cruel Seige relate VVhose Courage greatest Mis'ries ne're could tame And who deserv'd a more propitious Fate 49. VVhy should I recollect the Glorious Fate Of Lords who bravely fighting dy'd in Field Or their sad ignominious Death relate VVho to the cruel Victors Mercy yield 50. After such Ruins and such Miseries So many VVounds by advers Fortune given So much the Pious King did Life despise That he thought Death the greatest gift of Heaven 51. But Oh! the impious and tremendous Deed Can n're be curs't enough by after-times It Hells most sharp Invention do's exceed To find a Torment equal to their Crimes 52. I' th' Peoples sight the King from Prison led On a High Scaffold just before the Gate Of his cheif Palace bows his Sacred Head To the Hangmans hands 53. Wounded on all sides now poor Britan dyes Drown'd in the Blood which from her self did flow A Headless nameless deform'd Carkass lyes A Monstrous Lifeless Trunck which none could know 54. Who would not hope tho there was nothing less In Death soft Quiet and eternal Rest Lo numerous vile Souls in Tumults press And ' stead of One to rule the Limbs infest 55. Vile Sons of Earth by base Corruption bred Worms pois'nous Insects and black Serpents croud And Cromwell greatest of the Serpents fed Upon the very Marrow and the Blood 56. A noisom Odor's through the World diffus'd Sin and Injustice Justice then became No Rains Impiety now Reigning us'd To Fury having pass't the Bounds of Shame 57. 'T was counted Sport to see the Scaffolds fix't In every Street bedew'd with noble Blood To see in Pairs hangmen and Worthies mix't O Gods as Shows presented to the Croud 58. The good man's standing Mansion was the Gaol Th' Access to which with Crouds was early press't But weary'd Cruelty at length did fail And was compell'd a while to breath and rest 59. Insatiate Avarice no Cessation makes No Limits to it's violent Rage appear The Warriour often willingly forsakes But the Proscriber hardly quits the Spear 60. All that preceding glorious Kings had heap't With a Magnificent and Sparing hand The noble Spoils in bloody Battel reap't And all the Riches by long Peace attain'd 61. What our Forefathers generous Piety And rich Religion in a splendid Dress Did to the Sacred Altar's Use apply All the Estates the Nobles did possess 62. And those whoe're of Loyalty and Lands Were Guilty found O wretched Avarice Not all these Riches could the Harpy-hands Of the Tyrannic Sons of Earth suffice 63. Nor is 't enough alone to take the Spoils Of Gods and the Kings Houses these unjust And impious Men destroy the stately Piles Of very Ruin there 's a wicked Lust. 64. In every place the groaning Carts are fill'd With Beams and Stones so busie and so loud Are the proud Victors as they meant to Build But they to Ruin and Destruction croud 65. Timber which had been bury'd many Years Under high Royal Towers they invade 'T is sure that Hand the Living never spares Which is so wicked to disturb the Dead 66. Then all the Woods the barbarous Victors seize The noble Nursery of the Fleet and Town The hopes of War and
A TRANSLATION Of the Sixth Book of Mr. Cowley's PLANTARUM BEING A Poem upon the late Rebellion the Happy Restoration of His Sacred Majesty and the Dutch War Ensuing Bella per Angliacos plusquam Civilia Campos Iusque datum sceleri canimus Lucan Crimine ab uno Disce omnes Virg. LONDON Printed for Samuel Walsall at the Golden Frying-Pan in Leaden-Hall-Street 1680. The Preface THis little Poem I have Collected and Translated from the Sixth Book of Mr. Cowley's Plantarum being intermix't with other Matters and Circumstances I am very sensible how ill this Piece represents the Life for if no Copy was ever so good as the Original as the Divine Cowley himself says how imperfectly must the greatest Master perhaps that ever the world knew Virgil excepted be copied by the Pencil of a Dawber However this Translation may give you a tolerable Prospect of the Sense of the Author and the Beauty of his Thoughts though divested of their Ornaments and perhaps these ill-dress't Lines may at least be acceptable to those who have not the advantage of seeing them in their rich Habiliments I have avoided a servile verbal translation observing that noted Rule of Horace Non verbum verbo reddere sidus Interpres the only way an Author can be rendred perspicuous and I may say intelligible in another language By a verbal Translation nothing almost can be rendred well and some things not tolerably As Mr. Dryden in his excellent discourse of Translations before Ovid's Epistles observes I will produce an instance out of the Sixth Book of Mr. Cowley's Plantarum here translated Tergeminique eâdem fratres in morte Jacentes The greatest Favourite of Apollo I doubt cannot render this well into English any way much less by a literal translation In some places of this Poem the sence is not determin'd at the end of the Stanza which tho improper in Original Poems I think an ill natur'd Iudge may excuse in a Translation where a man ha's at the best but a limited and no absolute power being confin'd to the sence of the Author which rather than pervert I choose sometimes to be a little irregular in inconsiderable matters 1. WHen Charles the Pious Son of Iames the Wise In Peace and Plenty Britain's Scepter sway'd His Subjects happy if they knew to prize Their happiness by his just Reign were made 2. Happy above all Kings while Fate permits Till the curst Tempest of Rebellion came Now he 'bove Envy blest securely sits Among the Gods crown'd with immortal Fame 3. For while the dreadful Storms of cruel War Did all the rest of Europe rudely spoil Peace o're the Ocean flew disturb'd with fear And built her warm Nest in the British Isle 4. Nor did the fruitful Goddess sit in vain For strait Faith Justice Plenty who 's full Horn A Cure for most Diseases do's contain The golden Off-springs of rich Peace were born 5. Such I believe was Saturn's Golden Reign So smoothly pass't his quiet years away Till Fortune her own weight could not sustain Envy'd by Gods by Men contemn'd she lay 6. And rash inconstant men too happy made Tir'd with the kindness of a lovely Wife Exchange her for an ugly painted Jade Fickle and lew'd O blessed Change of Life 7. A seeming vigorous and luxuriant Health Death or Disease approaching still portends When without cause apparent and by stealth Languishing nature with it 's own weight bends 8. Such was the Britans fair and sickly State Happy if Happiness they could have known Impute not yet their ignorance to Fate Since it was wilful and the crime 's their own 9. Fore-warning Prodigies alas in vain The fatal Anger of the Gods proclaim So is fierce Thunder which big Clouds contain Before it breaks known by fore-running Flame 10. I saw and still methinks the horrid Sight I plainly see sad Signs o're all the Skies Heav'n seem'd the Tragic History to write Of all our sad approaching Miseries 11. The Heavens which I tremble but to tell Which a bright Fiery Tempest did infold Did represent the Burning Face of Hell And about waves of Flaming Sulphur roll'd 12. Strait then appear'd within a broken Cloud A horrid beauteous Scene two Armies plac't And Marshall'd in rare Order ready stood For Fight with shining Armour nobly grac't 13. Not Monck himself that Hero Monck the Grace And Pillar of his falling Country nam'd In better order could those Armies place Monck above all in War so justly fam'd 14. Who perhaps in some Figure then express't In the Coelestial Army fiercely rode High mounted on a Noble Fiery Beast Gracing the Heavens looking like a God 15. I heard unless fear did my senses cheat The Trumpets sound the Charge here Wings of Horse With bodies bended forwards fiercely meet The Foot their Spears brandish with mighty Force 16. They from aetherial Guns true Thunder send Involving in dark Clouds the Heav'nly Field Which did the Cloud-begotten Men defend From mortal Eyes and their brave Acts conceal'd 17. Yet a confused Prospect of the Fight And of the Sky with Bloody Rivers swell'd We had by the Armours Brightness and the Light Of the dire threatning Flames the Guns expell'd 18. At length the Army which the better shew'd And Nobler both in Men and Armour flies But from the rest a dismal gloomy Cloud And Darkness of the future seal'd our Eyes 19. But nor these Prodigies nor many more Which at that time by Pious Men were seen Did stupid England to it's Sense restore Careless as if it had Lethargic been 20. Who then the Murmurs of the foolish Croud Or hidden Seeds of Zeal Phanatic fear'd Or Monsters of the Caledonian Wood And impious Cromwell had not then appear'd 21. First rose a Cloud from Caledonian ground Which did the North and gentle Tweed invade Forgetting once he did two Kingdoms bound He thinks of one he is the Center made 22. By popular Winds fiercely impuls't it flyes To frighten England with it's deadly Shade First to move terrour only Scotland tries And in cool blood a Scene of War is plai'd 23. A Silver show'r soon put the Foe to flight A sort of Weapon never understood By our Forefathers who alone in Fight Profuse bought Peace with the sole price of Blood 24. And yet this people prodigal and vain Who did so dearly a short Peace create Lasting Rebellion purchas 't and Prophane Dire Civil War at a much dearer rate 25. Now Peace it self with the first Blood was stain'd O dreadful Omen of ensuing Fate A purple Fountain op'ning she prophan'd And in the Senate with the Furies sate 26. A great man falls by th' Envy of the Great A just by th' unjust hatred of the Croud Noise do's the wise and Eloquent defeat Rivers of Blood Strafford thy sacred Blood Must expiate which Miseries will bring Both to the guilty People and the guiltless King 27. Worcester condemn'd for the first seat of War A mournful Victor her good fate deplores Her Severn's Tears and Murmurings