Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, A PASTORAL DIALOGUE: CELIA, CLEON, by THOMAS CAREW


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

A PASTORAL DIALOGUE: CELIA, CLEON, by                 Poet Analysis     Poet's Biography
First Line: As celia rested in the shade
Last Line: The nymph fled fast away.
Subject(s): Courtship


As Celia rested in the shade
With Cleon by her side,
The swain thus courted the young maid,
And thus the nymph repli'd.

Cleon. Sweet! let thy captive fetters wear
Made of thine arms and hands;
Till such as thraldom scorn, or fear,
Envy those happy bands.

Celia. Then thus my willing arms I wind
About thee, and am so
Thy pris'ner, for myself I bind,
Until I let thee go.

Cleon. Happy that slave whom the fair foe
Ties in so soft a chain.
Celia. Far happier I, but that I know
Thou wilt break loose again.

Cleon. By thy immortal beauties, never!
Celia. Frail as thy love's thine oath.
Cleon. Though beauty fade, my love lasts ever.
Celia. Time will destroy them both.

Cleon. I dote not on thy snow-white skin.
Celia. What then? Cleon. Thy purer mind.
Celia. It lov'd too soon. Cleon. Thou hadst not bin
So fair, if not so kind.

Celia. Oh strange vain fancy! Cleon. But yet true.
Celia. Prove it! Cleon. Then make a braid
Of those loose flames that circle you,
My suns, and yet your shade.

Celia. 'Tis done. Cl. Now give it me. Cel. Thus thou
Shalt thine own error find;
If these were beauties, I am now
Less fair, because more kind.

Cleon. You shall confess you err: that hair,
Shall it not change the hue,
Or leave the golden mountain bare?
Celia. Ay me! it is too true.

Cleon. But this small wreath shall ever stay
In its first native prime,
And smiling when the rest decay,
The triumphs sing of time.

Celia. Then let me cut from thy fair grove
One branch, and let that be
An emblem of eternal love,
For such is mine to thee.

Cleon. Thus are we both redeem'd from time.
I by thy grace. Celia. And I
Shall live in thy immortal rhyme,
Until the Muses die.

Cleon. By heaven! Celia. Swear not! if I must weep,
Jove shall not smile at me;
This kiss, my heart, and thy faith keep.
Cleon. This breathes my soul to thee.

Then forth the thicket Thyrsis rush'd,
Where he saw all their play;
The swain stood still, and smil'd, and blush'd:
The nymph fled fast away.





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