Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, MASQUE AT THE MARRIAGE OF THE LORD HAYES: HESPERUS SPEAKS, by THOMAS CAMPION



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MASQUE AT THE MARRIAGE OF THE LORD HAYES: HESPERUS SPEAKS, by                 Poet Analysis     Poet's Biography
First Line: Hail reverend angry night, hail queen of flowers
Last Line: There's little tedious time in such delay.


Hail reverend angry Night, hail Queen of Flowers,
Mild spirited Zephyrus, hail, Sylvans and Hours.
Hesperus brings peace, cease then your needless jars
Here in this little firmament of stars.
Cynthia is now by Phœbus pacified,
And well content her nymph is made a bride.
Since the fair match was by that Phœbus graced
Which in this happy Western Isle is placed
As he in heaven, one lamp enlightening all
That under his benign aspect doth fall.
Deep oracles he speaks, and he alone
For arts and wisdom's meet for Phœbus' throne.
The nymph is honoured, and Diana's pleased:
Night, be you then, and your black Hours appeased:
And friendly listen what your queen by me
Farther commands: let this my credence be.
View it, and know it for the highest gem,
That hung on her imperial diadem.
Night. I know, and honour it, lovely Hesperus,
Speak then your message, both are welcome to us.
Hesp. Your Sovereign from the virtuous gem she sends
Bids you take power to retransform the friends
Of Phœbus, metamorphosed here to trees,
And give them straight the shapes which they did lese.
This is her pleasure.
Night. Hesperus, I obey,
Night must needs yield when Phœbus gets the day.
Flora. Honoured be Cynthia for this generous deed.
Zeph. Pity grows only from celestial seed.
Night. If all seem glad, why should we only lower?
Since t' express gladness we have now most power.
Frolic, graced captives, we present you here
This glass, wherein your liberties appear:
Cynthia is pacified, and now blithe Night
Begins to shake off melancholy quite.
Zeph. Who should grace mirth and revels but the Night?
Next Love she should be goddess of delight.
Night. 'Tis now a time when (Zephyrus) all with dancing
Honour me, above Day my state advancing.
I'll now be frolic, all is full of heart,
And ev'n these trees for joy shall bear a part:
Zephyrus, they shall dance.
Zeph. Dance, Goddess? how?
Night. Seems that so full of strangeness to you now?
Did not the Thracian harp long since the same?
And (if we rip the old records of fame)
Did not Amphion's lyre the deaf stones call,
When they came dancing to the Theban wall?
Can music then joy? joy mountains moves
And why not trees? joy's powerful when it loves.
Could the religious Oak speak Oracle
Like to the Gods? and the tree wounded tell
T' Æneas his sad story? have trees therefore
The instruments of speech and hearing more
Than th' have of pacing, and to whom but Night
Belong enchantments? who can more affright
The eye with magic wonders? Night alone
Is fit for miracles, and this shall be one
Apt for this Nuptial dancing jollity.
Earth, then be soft and passable to free
These fettered roots: joy, trees! the time draws near
When in your better forms you shall appear.
Dancing and music must prepare the way,
There's little tedious time in such delay.





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