The text comes from Denham’s Poems and Translations (1668), and is identified by Brendan O Hehir as the "B" Text. It’s a reading text, and makes no pretense to being a critical edition. The notes explain some allusions and gloss words.
Cooper’s Hill |
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Sure there are Poets which did never dream | ||
Upon Parnassus,° nor did tast the stream | mountain sacred to the Muses | |
Of Helicon,° we therefore may suppose | a sacred spring | |
Those made not Poets, but the Poets those. | ||
5 | And as Courts make not Kings, but Kings the Court, | |
So where the Muses & their train° resort, | followers | |
Parnassus stands; if I can be to thee | ||
A Poet, thou Parnassus art to me. | ||
Nor wonder, if (advantag’d in my flight, | ||
10 | By taking wing from thy auspicious height) | |
Through untrac’t ways, and aery paths I fly, | ||
More boundless in my Fancy than my eie: | ||
My eye, which swift as thought contracts the space | ||
That lies between, and first salutes° the place | greets | |
15 | Crown’d with that sacred pile,° so vast, so high, | building |
That whether ’tis a part of Earth, or sky, | ||
Uncertain seems, and may be thought a proud | ||
Aspiring mountain, or descending cloud, | ||
Pauls, the late theme of such a Muse whose flight | ||
20 | Has bravely reach’t and soar’d above thy height: | |
Now shalt thou stand though sword, or time, or fire, | ||
Or zeal more fierce than they, thy fall conspire, | ||
Secure, whilst thee the best of Poets sings, | ||
Preserv’d from ruine by the best of Kings.° | Charles I | |
25 | Under his proud survey the City lies, | |
And like a mist beneath a hill doth rise; | ||
Whose state and wealth the business and the crowd, | ||
Seems at this distance but a darker cloud: | ||
And is to him who rightly things esteems, | ||
30 | No other in effect than what it seems: | |
Where, with like hast, though several ways, they run | ||
Some to undo, and some to be undone; | ||
While luxury, and wealth, like war and peace, | ||
Are each the others ruine, and increase; | ||
35 | As Rivers lost in Seas some secret vein | |
Thence reconveighs, there to be lost again. | ||
Oh happiness of sweet retir’d content! | ||
To be at once secure, and innocent. | ||
Windsor the next (where Mars with Venus dwells. | ||
40 | Beauty with strength) above the Valley swells | |
Into my eye, and doth it self present | ||
With such an easie and unforc’t ascent, | ||
That no stupendious precipice denies | ||
Access, no horror turns away our eyes: | ||
45 | But such a Rise, as doth at once invite | |
A pleasure, and a reverence from the sight. | ||
Thy mighty Masters Embleme, in whose face | ||
Sate meekness, heightned with Majestick Grace | ||
Such seems thy gentle height, made only proud | ||
50 | To be the basis of that pompous load, | |
Than which, a nobler weight no Mountain bears, | ||
But Atlas only that supports the Sphears. | ||
When Natures hand this ground did thus advance, | ||
’Twas guided by a wiser power than Chance; | ||
55 | Mark’t out for such a use, as if ’twere meant | |
T’invite the builder, and his choice prevent.° | prepare | |
Nor can we call it choice, when what we chuse, | ||
Folly, or blindness only could refuse. | ||
A Crown of such Majestick towrs doth Grace | ||
60 | The Gods great Mother, when her heavenly race | |
Do homage to her, yet she cannot boast | ||
Amongst that numerous, and Celestial host, | ||
More Hero’s than can Windsor, nor doth Fames | ||
Immortal book record more noble names. | ||
65 | Not to look back so far, to whom this Isle | |
Owes the first Glory of so brave° a pile,° | grand — building | |
Whether to Cæsar, Albanact, or Brute, | ||
The Brittish Arthur, or the Danish Knute, | ||
(Though this of old no less contest did move, | ||
70 | Then when for Homers birth seven Cities strove) | |
(Like him in birth, thou should’st be like in fame, | ||
As thine his fate, if mine had been his Flame) | ||
But whosoere it was, Nature design’d | ||
First a brave place, and then as brave a mind. | ||
75 | Not to recount those several Kings, to whom | |
It gave a Cradle, or to whom a Tombe, | ||
But thee (great Edward) and thy greater son, | ||
(The lillies which his Father wore, he won) | ||
And thy Bellona, who the Consort came | ||
80 | Not only to thy Bed, but to thy Fame, | |
She to thy Triumph led one Captive King, | ||
And brought that son, which did the second bring. | ||
Then didst thou found that Order (whither love | ||
Or victory thy Royal thoughts did move) | ||
85 | Each was a noble cause, and nothing less, | |
Than the design, has been the great success: | ||
Which forraign Kings, and Emperors esteem | ||
The second honour to their Diadem.° | crown | |
Had thy great Destiny but given thee skill, | ||
90 | To know as well, as power to act her will, | |
That from those Kings, who then thy captives were, | ||
In after-times should spring a Royal pair° | Charles and his queen | |
Who should possess all that thy mighty power, | ||
Or thy desires more mighty, did devour; | ||
95 | To whom their better Fate reserves what ere | |
The Victor hopes for, or the Vanquisht fear; | ||
That bloud, which thou and thy great Grandsire shed, | ||
And all that since these sister Nations bled, | ||
Had been unspilt, had happy Edward known | ||
100 | That all the bloud he spilt, had been his own. | |
When he that Patron° chose, in whom are joyn’d | St. George | |
Souldier and Martyr, and his arms confin’d | ||
Within the Azure Circle, he did seem | ||
But to foretell, and prophesie of him, | ||
105 | Who to his Realms that Azure round hath joyn’d, | |
Which Nature for their bound at first design’d. | ||
That bound, which to the Worlds extreamest ends, | ||
Endless it self, its liquid arms extends; | ||
Nor doth he need those Emblemes which we paint, | ||
110 | But is himself the Souldier and the Saint. | |
Here should my wonder dwell, & here my praise, | ||
But my fixt thoughts my wandring eye betrays, | ||
Viewing a neighbouring hill, whose top of late | ||
A Chappel crown’d, till in the Common Fate, | ||
115 | The adjoyning Abby fell: (may no such storm | |
Fall on our times, where ruine must reform.) | ||
Tell me (my Muse) what monstrous dire offence, | ||
What crime could any Christian King incense | ||
To such a rage? Was’t Luxury, or Lust? | ||
120 | Was he so temperate, so chast, so just? | |
Were these their crimes? They were his own much more: | ||
But wealth is Crime enough to him that’s poor, | ||
Who having spent the Treasures of his Crown, | ||
Condemns their Luxury to feed his own. | ||
125 | And yet this Act, to varnish o’re the shame | |
Of sacriledge, must bear devotions name. | ||
No Crime so bold, but would be understood | ||
A real, or at least a seeming good. | ||
Who fears not to do ill, yet fears the Name, | ||
130 | And free from Conscience, is a slave to Fame. | |
Thus he the Church at once protects, & spoils: | ||
But Princes swords are sharper than their stiles. | ||
And thus to th’ages past he makes amends, | ||
Their Charity destroys, their Faith defends. | ||
135 | Then did Religion in a lazy Cell, | |
In empty, airy contemplations dwell; | ||
And like the block, unmoved lay: but ours, | ||
As much too active, like the stork devours. | ||
Is there no temperate Region can be known, | ||
140 | Betwixt their Frigid, and our Torrid Zone? | |
Could we not wake from that Lethargick dream, | ||
But to be restless in a worse extream? | ||
And for that Lethargy was there no cure, | ||
But to be cast into a Calenture?° | fever | |
145 | Can knowledge have no bound, but must advance | |
So far, to make us wish for ignorance? | ||
And rather in the dark to grope our way, | ||
Than led by a false guide to erre by day? | ||
Who sees these dismal heaps, but would demand | ||
150 | What barbarous Invader sackt the land? | |
But when he hears, no Goth, no Turk did bring | ||
This desolation, but a Christian King; | ||
When nothing, but the Name of Zeal, appears | ||
’Twixt our best actions and the worst of theirs, | ||
155 | What does he think our Sacriledge would spare, | |
When such th’effects of our devotions are? | ||
Parting from thence ’twixt anger, shame, & fear, | ||
Those for whats past, & this for whats too near: | ||
My eye descending from the Hill, surveys | ||
160 | Where Thames amongst the wanton vallies strays. | |
Thames, the most lov’d of all the Oceans sons, | ||
By his old Sire to his embraces runs, | ||
Hasting to pay his tribute to the Sea, | ||
Like mortal life to meet Eternity. | ||
165 | Though with those streams he no resemblance hold, | |
Whose foam is Amber, and their Gravel Gold; | ||
His genuine, and less guilty wealth t’explore, | ||
Search not his bottom, but survey his shore; | ||
Ore which he kindly spreads his spacious wing, | ||
170 | And hatches plenty for th’ensuing Spring. | |
Nor then destroys it with too fond a stay, | ||
Like Mothers which their Infants overlay. | ||
Nor with a sudden and impetuous wave, | ||
Like profuse Kings, resumes the wealth he gave. | ||
175 | No unexpected inundations spoyl | |
The mowers hopes, nor mock the plowmans toyl: | ||
But God-like his unwearied Bounty flows; | ||
First loves to do, then loves the Good he does. | ||
Nor are his Blessings to his banks confin’d, | ||
180 | But free, and common, as the Sea or Wind; | |
When he to boast, or to disperse his stores | ||
Full of the tributes of his grateful shores, | ||
Visits the world, and in his flying towers | ||
Brings home to us, and makes both Indies ours; | ||
185 | Finds wealth where ’tis, bestows it where it wants | |
Cities in deserts, woods in Cities plants. | ||
So that to us no thing, no place is strange, | ||
While his fair bosom is the worlds exchange. | ||
O could I flow like thee, and make thy stream | ||
190 | My great example, as it is my theme! | |
Though deep, yet clear, though gentle, yet not dull, | ||
Strong without rage, without ore-flowing full. | ||
Heaven her Eridanus no more shall boast, | ||
Whose Fame in thine, like lesser Currents lost, | ||
195 | Thy Nobler streams shall visit Jove’s aboads, | |
To shine amongst the Stars, and bath the Gods. | ||
Here Nature, whether more intent to please | ||
Us or her self, with strange varieties, | ||
(For things of wonder give no less delight | ||
200 | To the wise Maker’s, than beholders sight. | |
Though these delights from several causes move | ||
For so our children, thus our friends we love) | ||
Wisely she knew, the harmony of things, | ||
As well as that of sounds, from discords springs. | ||
205 | Such was the discord, which did first disperse | |
Form, order, beauty through the Universe; | ||
While driness moysture, coldness heat resists, | ||
All that we have, and that we are, subsists. | ||
While the steep horrid roughness of the Wood | ||
210 | Strives with the gentle calmness of the flood. | |
Such huge extreams when Nature doth unite, | ||
Wonder from thence results, from thence delight. | ||
The stream is so transparent, pure, and clear, | ||
That had the self-enamour’d youth gaz’d here, | ||
215 | So fatally deceiv’d he had not been, | |
While he the bottom, not his face had seen. | ||
But his proud head the aery Mountain hides | ||
Among the Clouds; his shoulders, and his sides | ||
A shady mantle° cloaths; his curled brows | cloak | |
220 | Frown on the gentle stream, which calmly flows, | |
While winds and storms his lofty forehead beat: | ||
The common fate of all that’s high or great. | ||
Low at his foot a spacious plain is plac’t, | ||
Between the mountain and the stream embrac’t: | ||
225 | Which shade and shelter from the Hill derives, | |
While the kind river wealth and beauty gives; | ||
And in the mixture of all these appears | ||
Variety, which all the rest indears. | ||
This scene had some bold Greek, or Brittish Bard | ||
230 | Beheld of old, what stories had we heard, | |
Of Fairies, Satyrs, and the Nymphs their Dames, | ||
Their feasts, their revels, & their amorous flames: | ||
’Tis still the same, although their aery shape | ||
All but a quick Poetick sight escape. | ||
235 | There Faunus and Sylvanus keep their Courts, | |
And thither all the horned hoast resorts, | ||
To graze the ranker mead,° that noble heard | meadow | |
On whose sublime and shady fronts is rear’d | ||
Natures great Master-piece; to shew how soon | ||
240 | Great things are made, but sooner are undone. | |
Here have I seen the King, when great affairs | ||
Give leave to slacken, and unbend his cares, | ||
Attended to the Chase by all the flower | ||
Of youth, whose hopes a Nobler prey devour: | ||
245 | Pleasure with Praise, & danger, they would buy, | |
And wish a foe that would not only fly. | ||
The stagg now conscious of his fatal Growth, | ||
At once indulgent to his fear and sloth, | ||
To some dark covert° his retreat had made, | thicket | |
250 | Where nor mans eye, nor heavens should invade | |
His soft repose; when th’unexpected sound | ||
Of dogs, and men, his wakeful ear doth wound. | ||
Rouz’d with the noise, he scarce believes his ear, | ||
Willing to think th’illusions of his fear | ||
255 | Had given this false Alarm, but straight his view | |
Confirms, that more than all he fears is true. | ||
Betray’d in all his strengths, the wood beset, | ||
All instruments, all Arts of ruine met; | ||
He calls to mind his strength, and then his speed, | ||
260 | His winged heels, and then his armed head; | |
With these t’avoid, with that his Fate to meet: | ||
But fear prevails, and bids him trust his feet. | ||
So fast he flyes, that his reviewing eye | ||
Has lost the chasers, and his ear the cry; | ||
265 | Exulting, till he finds, their Nobler sense | |
Their disproportion’d speed does recompense. | ||
Then curses his conspiring feet, whose scent | ||
Betrays that safety which their swiftness lent. | ||
Then tries his friends, among the baser herd, | ||
270 | Where he so lately was obey’d, and fear’d, | |
His safety seeks: the herd, unkindly wise, | ||
Or chases him from thence, or from him flies. | ||
Like a declining States-man, left forlorn | ||
To his friends pity, and pursuers scorn, | ||
275 | With shame remembers, while himself was one | |
Of the same herd, himself the same had done. | ||
Thence to the coverts, & the conscious° Groves, | sympathetic | |
The scenes of his past triumphs, and his loves; | ||
Sadly surveying where he rang’d alone | ||
280 | Prince of the soyl, and all the herd his own; | |
And like a bold Knight Errant did proclaim | ||
Combat to all, and bore away the Dame; | ||
And taught the woods to eccho to the stream | ||
His dreadful challenge, and his clashing beam.° | antler | |
285 | Yet faintly now declines the fatal strife; | |
So much his love was dearer than his life. | ||
Now every leaf, and every moving breath | ||
Presents a foe, and every foe a death. | ||
Wearied, forsaken, and pursu’d, at last | ||
290 | All safety in despair of safety plac’d, | |
Courage he thence resumes, resolv’d to bear | ||
All their assaults, since ’tis in vain to fear. | ||
And now too late he wishes for the fight | ||
That strength he wasted in Ignoble flight: | ||
295 | But when he sees the eager chase renew’d, | |
Himself by dogs, the dogs by men pursu’d: | ||
He straight revokes his bold resolve, and more | ||
Repents his courage, than his fear before; | ||
Finds that uncertain waies unsafest are, | ||
300 | And Doubt a greater mischief than Despair. | |
Then to the stream, when neither friends, nor force, | ||
Nor speed, nor Art avail, he shapes his course; | ||
Thinks not their rage so desperate t’assay° | try | |
An Element more merciless than they. | ||
305 | But fearless they pursue, nor can the floud | |
Quench their dire thirst; alas, they thirst for bloud. | ||
So towards a Ship the oarefin’d° Gallies ply, | having oars | |
Which wanting Sea to ride, or wind to fly, | ||
Stands but to fall reveng’d on those that dare | ||
310 | Tempt the last fury of extream despair. | |
So fares the Stagg among th’enraged Hounds, | ||
Repels their force, and wounds returns for wounds. | ||
And as a Hero, whom his baser foes | ||
In troops surround, now these assails, now those, | ||
315 | Though prodigal of life, disdains to die | |
By common hands; but if he can descry | ||
Some nobler foes approach, to him he calls, | ||
And begs his Fate, and then contented falls. | ||
So when the King a mortal shaft lets fly | ||
320 | From his unerring hand, then glad to dy, | |
Proud of the wound, to it resigns his bloud, | ||
And stains the Crystal with a Purple floud. | ||
This a more Innocent, and happy chase, | ||
Than when of old, but in the self-same place, | ||
325 | Fair liberty pursu’d, and meant a Prey | |
To lawless power, here turn’d, and stood at bay. | ||
When in that remedy all hope was plac’t | ||
Which was, or should have been at least, the last. | ||
Here was that Charter seal’d, wherein the Crown | ||
330 | All marks of Arbitrary power lays down: | |
Tyrant and slave, those names of hate and fear, | ||
The happier stile of King and Subject bear: | ||
Happy, when both to the same Center move, | ||
When Kings give liberty, and Subjects love. | ||
335 | Therefore not long in force this Charter stood; | |
Wanting that seal, it must be seal’d in bloud. | ||
The Subjects arm’d, the more their Princes gave, | ||
Th’advantage only took the more to crave. | ||
Till Kings by giving, give themselves away, | ||
340 | And even that power, that should deny, betray. | |
"Who gives constrain’d, but his own fear reviles | ||
"Not thank’t, but scorn’d; nor are they gifts, but spoils. | ||
Thus Kings, by grasping more than they could hold, | ||
First made their Subjects by oppression bold: | ||
345 | And popular sway,° by forcing Kings to give | sovereignty |
More than was fit for Subjects to receive, | ||
Ran to the same extreams; and one excess | ||
Made both, by striving to be greater, less. | ||
When a calm River rais’d with sudden rains, | ||
350 | Or Snows dissolv’d, oreflows th’adjoyning Plains, | |
The Husbandmen with high-rais’d banks secure | ||
Their greedy hopes, and this he can endure. | ||
But if with Bays and Dams they strive to force | ||
His channel to a new, or narrow course; | ||
355 | No longer then within his banks he dwells, | |
First to a Torrent, then a Deluge swells: | ||
Stronger, and fiercer by restraint he roars, | ||
And knows no bound, but makes his power his shores. |