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ياليت تبينون الاشياء الي فيها تشبيه و الاجزاء الي فيها بلاغة اذا قدرتوا

NOW with a general Peace the World was blest,
While Ours, a World divided from the rest,
A dreadful Quiet felt, and worser farre
Then Armes, a sullen Intervall of Warre:
5: Thus when black Clouds draw down the lab'ring Skies,
Ere yet abroad the winged Thunder flyes
An horrid Stillness first invades the ear,
And in that silence Wee the Tempest fear.
Th' Ambitious Swede like restless Billowes tost,
10: On this hand gaining what on that he lost,
Though in his life he Blood and Ruine breath'd,
To his now guideless Kingdome Peace bequeath'd.
And Heaven that seem'd regardless of our Fate,
For France and Spain did Miracles create,
15: Such mortal Quarrels to compose in peace
As Nature bred and Int'rest did encrease.
We sigh'd to hear the fair Iberian Bride
Must grow a Lilie to the Lilies side,
While Our cross Stars deny'd us Charles his Bed
20: Whom Our first Flames and Virgin Love did wed.
For his long absence Church and State did groan;
Madness the Pulpit, Faction seiz'd the Throne:
Experienc'd Age in deep despair was lost
To see the Rebel thrive, the Loyal crost:
25: Youth that with Joys had unacquainted been
Envy'd gray hairs that once good days had seen:
We thought our Sires, not with their own content,
Had ere we came to age our Portion spent.
Nor could our Nobles hope their bold Attempt
30: Who ruin'd Crowns would Coronets exempt:
For when by their designing Leaders taught
To strike at Pow'r which for themselves they sought,
The Vulgar gull'd into Rebellion, arm'd,
Their blood to action by the Prize was warm'd.
35: The Sacred Purple then and Scarlet Gown
Like sanguine Dye to Elephants was shown.
Thus when the bold Typhoeus scal'd the Sky,
And forc'd great Jove from his own Heaven to fly,
(What King, what Crown from Treasons reach is free,
40: If Jove and Heaven can violated be?)
The lesser Gods that shar'd his prosp'rous State
All suffer'd in the Exil'd Thund'rers Fate.
The Rabble now such Freedom did enjoy,
As Winds at Sea that use it to destroy:
45: Blind as the Cyclops, and as wild as he,
They own'd a lawless salvage Libertie,
Like that our painted Ancestours so priz'd
Ere Empires Arts their Breasts had Civiliz'd.
How Great were then Our Charles his Woes, who thus
50: Was forc'd to suffer for Himself and us!
He toss'd by Fate, and hurried up and down,
Heir to his Fathers Sorrows, with his Crown,
Could tast no sweets of youths desired Age,
But found his life too true a Pilgrimage.
55: Unconquer'd yet in that forlorne Estate
His Manly Courage overcame his Fate.
His wounds he took like Romans on his brest,
Which by his Vertue were with Lawrells drest.
As Souls reach Heav'n while yet in Bodies pent,
60: So did he live above his Banishment.
That Sun which we beheld with cous'ned eyes
Within the water, mov'd along the skies.
How easie 'tis when Destiny proves kind
With full spread Sails to run before the wind,
65: But those that 'gainst stiff gales laveering go
Must be at once resolv'd and skilful too.
He would not like soft Otho hope prevent
But stay'd and suffer'd Fortune to repent.
These Vertues Galba in a stranger sought;
70: And Piso to Adopted Empire brought.
How shall I then my doubtful thoughts express
That must his suff'rings both regret and bless!
For when his early Valour Heav'n had crost,
And all at Worc'ster but the honour lost,
75: Forc'd into exile from his rightful Throne
He made all Countries where he came his own.
And viewing Monarchs secret Arts of sway
A Royal Factor for their Kingdomes lay.
Thus banish'd David spent abroad his time,
80: When to be Gods Anointed was his Crime
And when restor'd made his proud Neighbours rue
Those choice Remarques he from his Travels drew,
Nor is he onely by afflictions shown
To conquer others Realms but rule his own:
85: Recov'ring hardly what he lost before
His right indears it much, his purchase more.
Inur'd to suffer ere he came to raigne
No rash procedure will his actions stain.
To bus'ness ripened by digestive thought
90: His future rule is into Method brought:
As they who first Proportion understand
With easie Practice reach a Masters hand.
Well might the Ancient Poets then confer
On Night the honour'd name of Counseller,
95: Since struck with rayes of prosp'rous fortune blind
We light alone in dark afflictions find.
In such adversities to Scepters train'd
The name of Great his famous Grandsire gain'd:
Who yet a King alone in Name and Right,
100: With hunger, cold and angry Jove did fight;
Shock'd by a Covenanting Leagues vast Pow'rs
As holy and as Catholique as ours:
Till Fortunes fruitless spight had made it known
Her blowes not shook but riveted his Throne.



وهذي القصيدة الثانية


What beck'ning ghost, along the moonlight shade
Invites my steps, and points to yonder glade?
'Tis she!--but why that bleeding bosom gored,
Why dimly gleams the visionary sword?
O, ever beauteous, ever friendly! tell,
Is it, in Heav'n, a crime to love too well?
To bear too tender or too firm a heart,
To act a lover's or a Roman's part?
Is there no bright reversion in the sky
For those who greatly think, or bravely die?
Why bade ye else, ye Pow'rs! her soul aspire
Above the vulgar flight of low desire?
Ambition first sprung from your blest abodes;
The glorious fault of angels and of gods;
Thence to their images on earth it flows,
And in the breasts of kings and heroes glows.
Most souls, 'tis true, but peep out once an age,
Dull sullen pris'ners in the body's cage:
Dim lights of life, that burn a length of years,
Useless, unseen, as lamps in sepulchres;
Like Eastern kings a lazy state they keep,
And close confined to their own palace, sleep.

From these perhaps (ere Nature bade her die)
Fate snatch'd her early to the pitying sky.
As into air the purer spirits flow,
And sep'rate from their kindred dregs below,
So flew the soul to its congenial place,
Nor left one virtue to redeem her race.

But thou, false guardian of a charge too good!
Thou, mean deserter of thy brother's blood!
See on these ruby lips the trembling breath,
These cheeks now fading at the blast of Death:
Cold is that breast which warm'd the world before,
And those love-darting eyes must roll no more.
Thus, if eternal Justice rules the ball,
Thus shall your wives, and thus your children fall;
On all the line a sudden vengeance waits,
And frequent hearses shall besiege your gates.
There passengers shall stand, and pointing say
(While the long fun'rals blacken all the way),
'Lo! these were they whose souls the Furies steel'd
And cursed with hearts unknowing how to yield.'
Thus unlamented pass the proud away,
The gaze of fools, and pageant of a day!
So perish all whose breast ne'er learned to glow
For others' good, or melt at others' woe!

What can atone (O ever-injured shade!)
Thy fate unpitied, and thy rites unpaid?
No friend's complaint, no kind domestic tear
Pleased thy pale ghost, or graced thy mournful bier.
Be foreign hands thy dying eyes were closed,
By foreign hands thy decent limbs composed,
By foreign hands thy humble grave adorn'd,
By strangers honour'd, and by strangers mourn'd!
What tho' no friends in sable weeds appear,
Grieve for an hour, perhaps, then mourn a year,
And bear about the mockery of woe
To midnight dances, and the public show?
What tho' no weeping Loves thy ashes grace,
Nor polish'd marble emulate thy face?
What tho' no sacred earth allow thee room,
Nor hallow'd dirge be mutter'd o'er thy tomb?
Yet shall thy grave with rising flow'rs be drest,
And the green turf lie lightly on thy breast:
There shall the morn her earliest tears bestow,
There the first roses of the year shall blow;
While angels with their silver wings o'ershade
The ground now sacred by the reliques made.

So peaceful rests, without a stone, a name,
What once had beauty, titles, wealth, and fame.
How loved, how honour'd once, avails thee not,
To whom related, or by whom begot;
A heap of dust alone remains of thee,
'Tis all thou art, and all the proud shall be!

Poets themselves must fall, like those they sung,
Deaf the praised ear, and mute the tuneful tongue.
Ev'n he, whose soul now melts in mournful lays,
Shall shortly want the gen'rous tear he pays;
Then from his closing eyes they form shall part,
And the last pang shall tear thee from his heart;
Life's idle business at one gasp be o'er,
The Muse forgot, and thou beloved no more!



ومشكورين:26::26: ويعطيكم العافية