Poetry Explorer

Classic and Contemporary Poetry

THE CLOWN AND ROSE; A FABLE by ROYALL TYLER

First Line: AS WHEN GAY SUN BEAMS SEEK THE BROOKS
Last Line: AND IN HIS BOSOM SHED HER SWEETS.
AS when gay sun beams seek the brooks,
And sport upon the rising wave;
So play'd the smiles in Laura's looks,
In every glance, the charmer gave.

When rushing winds, vindictive storms,
The bottom of the brooks deface,
So rage her tranquil breast deforms,
So anger mars her beauteous face.

Wondering shepherd! would'st thou know
Why Laura different passions vex?
Why now her eyes with vengeance glow,
Now beam the softness of her sex?

Daughter of mildness now appears,
Then darts her fiery glance around,
Can the same face both aspects wear,
So sweetly smile so sternly frown.

Why now her virgin sweets disclose,
Then coy -- as love and pride prevail
Go to the garden -- as the rose,
The rose can tell the moral tale.

When boisterous Cymon sought the air,
He chose the garden's walks and bowers,
Some Daemon led the monster there,
Sworn foe to elegance and flowers.

See, as he lifts his giant stride,
And hastes along the gay parterre,
The conscious flowers all strive to hide,
Close every leaf, and shrink with fear.

Th' aspiring tulip lifts its head
In vain -- and scorns its kindred leaves;
In vain their sweets the violets shed,
In vain her sweets the jasmine breathes.

The uncouth wretch's wasteful walk
Scatter'd the jasmines on the ground,
Broke the proud tulip's airy stalk,
And trod the lovely violet down.

And soon he saw the snow-white rose,
Her virgin beauties lure his eye,
Cease, spoiler, cease; ye fates, oppose;
In his rude grasp the rose will die.

At his approach trembles the flower,
And paler grows her snowy form,
The parent bush exerts her power,
Nerves every branch, points every thorn.

Cease, spoiler, cease; oh spare the meek,
The rose with thee can know no rest,
Thy kindred bramble, Cymon, seek,
She loves the soil within thy breast.

Cease, spoiler, cease; alas! too late,
His ruthless hands extend and close;
And see -- O bless the pitying fate!
The parent bush protects her rose.

Now writhes with pain the awkward hind,
The starting blood his hand distains,
May virtue such protection find,
May cruel spoilers know such pains.

With ruddy streams his fingers reek,
While uncouth gestures mark his woes,
Far redder glow'd his ireful cheek,
When he address'd the affrighted rose.

Inveterate flower, thy sweets I flee;
Who seeks thy sweets thy thorns will find,
False Laura's smiles I find in thee,
In thee I hate her vengeful mind.

The Fairest Child of June reply'd,
I love the near resemblance well,
I in the near connexion pride,
Although her sweets my sweets excel.

From the same common parent born,
Into one clime we both arose,
I, a fixed beauty, deck the thorn,
Laura, a walking sister rose.

To guard the beauties, nature gave,
She all my thousand thorns prepar'd,
And, Laura's lovelier charms to save,
Gave Thorny Virtue for a guard.

Know, Cymon, hence not dare reproach,
Know hence our common danger's born,
When lawless spoilers dare approach,
Then Laura frowns, I point my thorns.

But, should the gentle seek the shade,
Sigh for my scents, and beauties bland,
I'd court young Zephyr's airy aid,
To bow me to the extended hand.

Should some kind youth fair Laura sue,
With wedlock's hand her beauties seek,
Proud Laura would be gentle too,
And in his bosom shed her sweets.



Home: PoetryExplorer.net