The Seven Champions of Christendom · chunk 37 of 43
Kirke, John · published 1638 · first performed or written 1635 [1634-1638] (Annals) romance · Red Bull Company (second) · Red Bull unassigned nearest T55 Fairies, fairy queens and enchanted desi · 481 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T55: fairy, fairies, oberon, mopsus, queen, land, grace, babylon, mab, thestylis.
Orion, that o'erstrode the Dolphin with his Harp, ne'er song nor played such chanting melody: Thou hast made me drowsy love with thy sweet air. I carry air at both ends of my Pipe, But this is the sweeter: come what shall we do? Walk with thy Iove, my lovely Ganymede, And once a day survey my Castle round, Then will I play with these thy silken locks, Kiss that sweet Venus' Mole upon thy Cheek, And smell unto thy sweet Sabean breath, Then will we walk and view my silver fountain, And my silver Swans, whom next to thee, I take most pleasure in. I like that Fountain very well, And the three Swans that swims about it: I was wishing for a Goose-pie made Made of one of 'em but the other day. Little dost thou know what those Swans be. Why, what are they? List, and I'll tell thee: Those Swans are daughters to the King of Macedon, Whom I surprised, and kept within my Castle, Till at the length, so scorched with love's hot flames, That Brandron needs must die, if not enjoy: So thinking to deflower 'em one by one, Each by her prayers converted to a Swan, And flew for safety in my golden fountain, And there for ever shall my Leda's Birds Remain, unharmed by Brandron, or any. Oh monstrous, I have heard indeed that wenches have turned pretty coneys, Ducks, or Pigeons; but Swans, O brave: Come whither shall we go now love? Up to the promontory top of my fair Castle, There take thy pleasure of the morning's air, Breathed from Aurora's care the Sun doth wake, From thence to banquet upon lions' hearts, I'll feast the high and strong, my Ganymed: Come let us mount, pleasure's to us a toy, My happiness consists in thee my boy. As yet we cannot find a fitting place, Where we may make a breach for entrance. What shall we rouse him then? A little stay, we have not yet begirt the Castle walls, The time of his approach will not be long, For all his Iron nets are stored you see. I long to see, and grapple with the monster. Here's no man here but hath the same desire. Come let us walk. Where art thou love? Here, here, as close as beggary to a Prodigal, I'll ne'er forsake ye I'll warrant. 'Tis well; now we have attained the highest top: ha! What's the matter Sir? See, see, six straggling spies, wandering fugitives Are lurking 'bout my Walls to make a breach, And steal my Swans away; but I will down, And with my Iron Mace send 'em a welcome, That their powder bones shall seem a pastime For the wind to play with. Go to love, no more such words, No more I say, I know 'em well enough. Dost thou my love?
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)
Orion, that o're-ſtrid the Dolphine with his Harp, Nere ſong nor plaid ſuch chanting melody: Thou haſt made me drouſie love with thy ſweet aire. I carry aire at both ends of my Pipe, But this is the ſweeter: come what ſhall we doe? Walke with thy Iove, my lovely Ganymede, And once a day ſurvey my Caſtle round, Then will I play with theſe thy ſilken locks, Kiſſe that ſweete Venus Mole upon thy Cheeke, And ſmell unto thy ſweete Sabean breath, Then will we walke and view my ſilver fountaine, And my ſilver Swans, whom next to thee, I take moſt pleaſure in. I like that Fountaine very well, And the three Swans that ſwimmes about it: I was wiſhing for a Gooſe-pye made Made of one of 'em but the tother day. Little doſt thou know what thoſe Swans be. Why, what are they? Liſt, and Ile tell thee: Thoſe Swans are daughters to the King of Macedon, Whom I ſurpriz'd, and kept within my Caſtle, Till at the length, ſo ſcorcht with loves hot flames▪ That Brandron needes muſt dye, if not enjoy: So thinking to deflowre 'em one by one, Each by her prayers converted to a Swanne, And flew for ſafety in my golden fountaine, And there for ever ſhall my Ledas Birds Remaine, unharm'd by Brandron, or any. Oh monſtrous, I have heard indeed that wenches have turnd pretty Conies, Ducks, or Pigeons; but Swans, O brave: Come whither ſhall we goe now love? Vp to the promontary top of my faire Caſtle, There take thy pleaſure of the mornings aire, Breath'd from Aurora's care the Sun doth wake, From thence to banquet upon Lyons hearts, Ile feaſt the hye and ſtrong, my Ganymed: Come let us mount, pleaſure's to us a toy, My happineſſe conſiſts in thee my boy. As yet we cannot finde a ſitting place, Where we may make a breach for entrance. What ſhall we rouſe him then? A little ſtay, we have not yet begirt the Caſtle walls, The time of his approach will not be long, For all his Iron nets are ſtor'd you ſee. I long to ſee, and grapple with the monſter. Here's no man here but hath the ſame deſire. Come let us walke. Where art thou love? Here, here, as cloſe as beggery to a Prodigall, Ile ne're forſake yee Ile warrant. 'Tis well; now we have attaind the higheſt top: ha! Whats the matter Sir? See, ſee, ſixe ſtragling ſpies, wandring fugitives Are lurking 'bout my Walls to make a breach, And ſteale my Swans away; but I will downe, And with my Iron Mace ſend 'em a welcome, That their powder bones ſhall ſeeme a paſtime For the winde to play with. Goe to love, no more ſuch words, No more I ſay, I know 'em well enough. Doſt thou my love?