Britannia Triumphans (Britain Triumphing) · chunk 7 of 7
Davenant, William · published 1637 · first performed or written 1638 [licensed for performance, Jan 8] (Annals) not in BritDrama · before the Court unassigned nearest T12 Olympian gods: Jupiter, Juno, Venus and · 461 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T12: iupiter, saturn, iuno, venus, gods, mars, earth, titan, love, fair.
Move then in such a noble order here, As if you each his governed Planet were, And he moved first, to move you in each sphere. O with what joy you'll measure out the time? Each breast like his still free from every crime, Whose pensive weight might hinder you to climb! Our eyes (long since dissolved to Air) To thee for Day must now repair, Though raised to life by Merlin's might, Thy stock of Beauty will supply Enough of Sun from either eye, To fill the Organs of our sight! Yet first thy pity should have drawn A Cloud of Cypress or of Lawn, To come between thy radiant Beams: Our eyes (long darkened in a shade) When first they so much light invade Must ache and sicken with extremes. Yet wiser reason hath prevailed To wish thy beauties still unveiled, 'Tis better that it blind should make us, Than we should want such heavenly Fire, That is so useful to inspire Those Raptures which would else forsake us. Who knows but Homer got his Flame From some Refulgent Grecian Dame Whose beauty gave his Muse supplies: And would not trust in humble Prose His noble thoughts, but rather chose High numbers, though with loss of eyes? So well Britanocles o'er seas doth Reign, Reducing what was wild before, That fairest sea-Nymphs leave the troubled main, And haste to visit him on shore. What are they less than Nymphs since each make show Of wondrous Immortality? And each those sparkling Treasures wears that grow Where breathless Divers cannot Pry? On ever moving waves they used to dance Unto the whistling of the wind; Whose measures hit and meet by erring chance, Where Music can no concord find. But now for their Majestic welcome try How ev'n, and equally they'll meet, When you shall lead them by such Harmony, As can direct their ears, and feet. Wise Nature, that the Dew of sleep prepares To intermit our joys, and ease our cares, Invites you from these Triumphs to your rest. May every whisper that is made be chaste, Each Lady slowly yield, yet yield at last; Her Heart a Prisoner to her lover's breast! To wish unto our Royal Lover more Of youthful blessings than he had before, Were but to tempt old Nature have her might, Since all the Odour, Music, Beauteous Fire, We in the spring, the spheres, the stars, admire Is his renewed, and bettered every night! To Bed, to Bed, may every Lady dream From that chief beauty she hath stolen a Beam, Which will amaze her Lovers curious Eyes! Each lawful Lover to advance his youth, Dream he hath stolen, his Vigour, Love, and Truth; Then all will haste to Bed, but none to Rise!
seed 43: unassigned · seed 44: unassigned — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
Move then in such a noble order here, As if you each his governed Planet were, And he mov'd first, to move you in each spheare. O with what joy you'l measure out the time? Each breast like his still free from every crime, Whose pensive weight might hinder you to clime! Our eyes (long since dissolv'd to Ayre) To thee for Day must now repaire, Though rais'd to life by Merlins might, Thy stocke of Beautie will supply Enough of Sunne from either eye, To fill the Organs of our sight! Yet first thy pittie should have drawne A Cloud of Cypresse or of Lawne, To come betweene thy radiant Beams: Our eyes (long darkned in a shade) When first they so much light invade Must ake and sicken with extreams. Yet wiser reason hath prevail'd To wish thy beauties still unvail'd, 'Tis better that it blinde should make us, Than wee should want such heavenly Fire, That is so usefull to inspire Those Raptures which would else forsake us. Who knowes but Homer got his Flame From some Refulgent Graecian Dame Whose beauty gave his Muse supplies: And would not trust in humble Prose His noble thoughts, but rather chose High numbers, though with losse of eies? So well Britanocles o're seas doth Raigne, Reducing what was wild before, That fairest sea-Nymphs leave the troubled maine, And haste to visit him on shore. What are they lesse than Nymphs since each make shew Of wondrous Immortality? And each those sparckling Treasures weares that grow Where breathlesse Divers cannot Prie? On ever moving waves they us'd to dance Vnto the whistling of the wind; Whose measures hit and meet byerring chance, Where Musick can no concord find. But now for their Majestick welcome trie How ev'n, and equally they'le meet, When you shall lead them by such Harmony, As can direct their eares, and feet. Wise Nature, that the Dew of sleepe prepares To intermit our joyes, and ease our cares, Invites you from these Triumphs to your rest. May ev'ry whisper that is made be chast, Each Lady slowly yeeld, yet yeeld at last; Her Heart a Prisner to her Lovers breast! To wish unto our Royall Lover more Of youthfull blessings than he had before, Were but to tempt old Nature have her might, Since all the Odor, Musique, Beauteous Fire, We in the spring, the spheares, the stars, admire Is his renew'd, and betterd ev'ry night! To Bed, to Bed, may ev'ry Lady dreame From that chiefe beauty shee hath stollen a Beame, Which will amaze her Lovers curious Eyes! Eeach lawfull Lover to advance his youth, Dreame he hath stolne, his Vigor, Love, and Truth; Then all will haste to Bed, but none to Rise!