Wine, Women, and Song - LightNovelsOnl.com
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Cast aside dull books and thought; Sweet is folly, sweet is play: Take the pleasure Spring hath brought In youth's opening holiday!
Right it is old age should ponder On grave matters fraught with care; Tender youth is free to wander, Free to frolic light as air.
Like a dream our prime is flown, Prisoned in a study: Sport and folly are youth's own, Tender youth and ruddy.
Lo, the Spring of life slips by, Frozen Winter comes apace; Strength is 'minished silently, Care writes wrinkles on our face: Blood dries up and courage fails us, Pleasures dwindle, joys decrease, Till old age at length a.s.sails us With his troop of illnesses.
Like a dream our prime is flown, Prisoned in a study; Sport and folly are youth's own, Tender youth and ruddy.
Live we like the G.o.ds above; This is wisdom, this is truth: Chase the joys of tender love In the leisure of our youth!
Keep the vows we swore together, Lads, obey that ordinance; Seek the fields in sunny weather, Where the laughing maidens dance.
Like a dream our prime is flown, Prisoned in a study; Sport and folly are youth's own, Tender youth and ruddy.
There the lad who lists may see Which among the maids is kind: There young limbs deliciously Flas.h.i.+ng through the dances wind: While the girls their arms are raising, Moving, winding o'er the lea, Still I stand and gaze, and gazing They have stolen the soul of me!
Like a dream our prime is flown, Prisoned in a study; Sport and folly are youth's own, Tender youth and ruddy.
XV.
A separate Section can be devoted to songs in the manner of the early French pastoral. These were fas.h.i.+onable at a remote period in all parts of Europe; and I have already had occasion, in another piece of literary history, to call attention to the Italian madrigals of the fourteenth century composed in this species.[30] Their point is mainly this: A man of birth and education, generally a dweller in the town, goes abroad into the fields, lured by fair spring weather, and makes love among trees to a country wench.
The _Vagi_ turn the pastoral to their own purpose, and always represent the greenwood lover as a _clericus_. One of these rural nieces has a pretty opening stanza:--
"When the sweet Spring was ascending, Not yet May, at April's ending, While the sun was heavenward wending, Stood a girl of grace transcending Underneath the green bough, sending Songs aloft with pipings."
Another gives a slightly comic turn to the chief incident.
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 30: See _Renaissance in Italy_, vol. iv. p. 156.]
A PASTORAL.
No. 24.
There went out in the dawning light A little rustic maiden; Her flock so white, her crook so slight, With fleecy new wool laden.
Small is the flock, and there you'll see The she-a.s.s and the wether; This goat's a he, and that's a she, The bull-calf and the heifer.
She looked upon the green sward, where A student lay at leisure: "What do you there, young sir, so fair?"
"Come, play with me, my treasure!"
A third seems to have been written in the South, perhaps upon the sh.o.r.es of one of the Italian lakes--Como or Garda.
THE MULBERRY-GATHERER.
No. 25.
In the summer's burning heat, When the flowers were blooming sweet, I had chosen, as 'twas meet, 'Neath an olive bough my seat; Languid with the glowing day, Lazy, careless, apt for play.
Stood the tree in fields where grew Painted flowers of every hue, Gra.s.s that flourished with the dew, Fresh with shade where breezes blew; Plato, with his style so rare, Could not paint a spot more fair.
Runs a babbling brook hard by, Chants the nightingale on high; Water-nymphs with song reply.
"Sure, 'tis Paradise," I cry; For I know not any place Of a sweeter, fresher grace.
While I take my solace here, And in solace find good cheer, Shade from summer, coolness dear, Comes a shepherd maiden near-- Fairer, sure, there breathes not now-- Plucking mulberries from the bough.
Seeing her, I loved her there: Venus did the trick, I'll swear!
"Come, I am no thief, to scare, Rob, or murder unaware; I and all I have are thine, Thou than Flora more divine!"
But the girl made answer then: "Never played I yet with men; Cruel to me are my kin: My old mother scolds me when In some little thing I stray:-- Hold, I prithee, sir, to-day!"
A fourth, consisting of a short conventional introduction in praise of Spring, followed by a dialogue between a young man and a girl, in which the metre changes for the last two stanzas, may be cla.s.sed among the pastorals, although it is a somewhat irregular example of the species.
THE WOOING.
No. 26.
All the woods are now in flower, Song-birds sing in field and bower, Orchards their white blossoms shower: Lads, make merry in Love's hour!
Sordid grief hath flown away, Fervid Love is here to-day; He will tame without delay Those who love not while they may.
_He._ "Fairest maiden, list to me; Do not thus disdainful be; Scorn and anger disagree With thy youth, and injure thee.
"I am weaker than thou art; Mighty Love hath pierced my heart; Scarce can I endure his dart: Lest I die, heal, heal my smart!"
_She._ "Why d'you coax me, suitor blind?
What you seek you will not find; I'm too young for love to bind; Such vain trifles vex my mind.
"Is't your will with me to toy?
I'll not mate with man or boy: Like the Phoenix, to enjoy Single life shall be my joy."
_He._ "Yet Love is tyrannous, Harsh, fierce, imperious!
He who man's heart can thus Shatter, may make to bow Maidens as stern as thou!"
_She._ "Now by your words I'm 'ware What you wish, what you are; You know love well, I swear!
