Medulla Poetarum Romanorum - Vol. I. (Bees - Boy) Poem by Henry Baker

Bees.
See Labour.

Of all the mute Creation, These alone
A public Weal, and common Int'rest know,
Imbody'd: and subsist by certain Laws.
Mindful of Winter, they in Summer toil:
And for their Country's Good preserve their Store.
Some, by joint Compact, range the Fields for Food,
Industrious: Others in their Tents at home,
Narcissus' clammy Tears, and Gum from Trees,
Lay, as the first Foundation of their Combs:
Then into Arches build the viscid Wax.
Others draw forth their Colonies adult,
The Nation's Hope: Some work the purer Sweets
And with the liquid Nectar stretch their Cells:
Some (such their Post allotted) at the Gates,
Stand Sentry: and alternate watch, the Rain,
And Clouds, observing: or unlade their Friends
Returning: or in Troops beat off the Drones,
A lazy Cattle: Hot the Work proceeds:
And fresh with Thyme the fragrant Honey smells.--

The inbred Love of getting prompts the Bees
Their Labour to divide. The aged Sires
With curious Architecture build their Cells:
And guard their Towns, and fortify their Combs.
But late at Night the Youth fatigu'd return,
Their Legs with Thyme full--laden: hov'ring round
They suck the Arbutus, and Willows grey,
Sweet Lavendar, and Crocus' yellow Flow'r,
The purple Hyacinth, and gummy Lime.

They toil together, and together rest:
With the first Morn they issue from their Gates:
Again, when Vesper warns them to return
From feeding, and the Fields: they homewards bend,
Refresh their Bodies, and with murm'ring Noise
Hum round the Sides, and Entrance of their Hives:
At length in Silence hush'd all Night repose,
And with soft Sleep relieve their weary Limbs.
While Rain impends, or Winds begin to rise,
They rove not far from Home, nor trust the Sky:
But drink, secure, beneath their City's Walls,
And short Excursions try: and oft with Sand
Ballast Themselves, like Ships on tossing Waves,
And poise their Bodies thro' the Void of Air.--

--Not Egypt, nor wide Lydia's Realms,
Nor Parthia, nor Hydaspes with such Zeal
Adore their King.--Their King surviving, All
Unanimous concur: his Death dissolves
Society: Themselves their Honey--Stores,
And all the curious Texture of their Combs
Demolish. He o'er all their Works presides:
Him they admire: and in one Body form'd,
Humming, inclose Him round: and oft in War
Support Him on their Shoulders: for his Life
Expose their own, and court a glorious Death,--

If to the Fight they issue forth, (for oft
Between two Kings, with Tumult, Discord reigns
The Vulgar's Rage, and Courage, and their Hearts
Trembling with eager Appetite of War,
You may foreknow. A Clarion, shrill as Brass,
Rouses the Laggers; and a martial Noise
Distant is heard, like Trumpets broken Sounds.
Then trembling they unite, and shake their Wings,
And with their sharp Proboscis whet their Darts,
And fit their Claws: and round their Monarch's Court
Thicken, and muster: and with loud Acclaim
Provoke the Foe.--Now, having gain'd a Sky
Serene, and open Fields of vernal Air,
They issue from their Gates, and join the Shock
Of Battle: Humming thro' th' Etherial Void,
In one huge Cluster they conglobe, and fall
Precipitant: Nor thicker falls the Hail,
Nor Show'rs of Acorns from a shaken Oak.
The Kings themselves, betwixt the middle Ranks,
Conspicuous shine, and spread their glist'ning Wings:
(Their little Bodies mighty Souls inform.)
The One (for diff'rent are their Species) burns
With vary'd Spots, and Gold: his Form all o'er
Beauteous, and bright with glist'ring Scales: this Kind
The Best: the Other horrid, and with Sloth
Inglorious, trails his swagging Paunch along.
Nor less the People, than their Kings, are found
Of Forms distinct: Some foul, of dusky Hue;
As when the Trav'ler, on a sandy Road,
From his dry Mouth spits Froth commix'd with Dust:
Some glaring Shine, and glow with Drops of Gold.--

One Quality in Bees thou wilt admire:
That genial Love they know not, nor indulge
Venus' soft Joys, nor propagate their Kind.
From Herbs, and fragrant Simples, with their Mouths
They cull their Young: from thence the Insect King,
And all his little Subjects they supply.
And therefore tho' their Term of Life be short,
(Nor beyond seven Summers e'er extends)
Yet the immortal Progeny remains:
For many Years the Kingdom's Fortune stands,
And Grandsires number Grandsires in their Line.--


Beggar.

Thirsty, at last, by long Fatigue, she grows,
But meets no Spring; no Riv'let near her flows.
Then looking round, by Accident she spies,
A Cottage thatch'd with Straw, and thither hies.
The Goddess knocking at the little Door,
'Twas open'd by a Woman old and poor,
Who, when she begg'd for Water, gave her Ale,
Brew'd long, but well preserv'd from being stale.
The Goddess drank: a chuffy Lad was by,
Who saw the Liquor with a grutching Eye
And grinning cries,--She's greedy more than dry.--

Water do You deny? Indeed, 'tis hard
From Nature's common Rights to be debar'd:
This, as the genial Sun, and vital Air,
Should flow alike to ev'ry Creature's Share.
Yet, still I ask, and as a Favour crave,
That, which a publick Bounty, Nature gave.
Now from my Throat the usual Moisture dries,
And ev'n my Voice in broken Accents dies:
One Draught, as dear as Life, I should esteem,
And Water, now I thirst, would Nectar seem.--

My Mother's poor, my Farm's too mean to sell,
And yet not yields enough to keep me well;
My Neice a Portion wants, my Fortune's low:
He that says thus, crys out aloud, Bestow.--


Birth--Day.

Of Alban Wine, a Cask in Store
I'ave got, that's nine Years old and more:
And Parsley in my Garden grows,
And Ivy to adorn thy Brows:
Ivy, my Dear, shall finely shine,
And fair among thy Curls entwine.

My House with Silver glitters round:
My Altar, with chast Vervain bound,
Now only wants the Lamb whose Blood
Must sprinkle o'er the sacred Wood.

All Hands at work, with busy Care
My Boys and Maids the Feast prepare:
In curling Volumes, through the Sky
Thick Smoke does from my Chimney fly.

But would You know what Joys to Night
I call You to, and why invite:
You're now to celebrate the Ide
Which does fair April's Month divide:
April, to Sea--born Venus dear,
Whose welcome Ide shall ev'ry Year,
Be kept in solemn Wise by me,
More than my own Nativity:
For my Moecenas from this Sun
His date of rolling Years begun.--


Blushing.

The Boy knew Nought of Love, but touch'd with Shame,
Look'd down, and blush'd: his Blushes well became:
So Apples glow upon the sunny Side;
So Iv'ry looks with rich Vermilion dy'd;
So shews the Moon, when all her silver White
Turns in Eclipses to a ruddy Light,
And Brass resounds in vain.--

–She blush'd;--against her Will the rising Red
Flush'd in her Cheeks, and thence as swiftly fled.
Ev'n so the purple Morning paints the Skies:
And so they whiten at the Sun's up--rise.--

A Crimson Blush her beauteous Face o'er--spread,
Varying her Cheeks by turns with white and red.
The driving Colours, never at a Stay,
Run here, and there, and flush, and fade away.
Delightful Change! thus Indian Iv'ry shows
Which with the bord'ring Paint of Purple glows:
Or Lillies damask'd by the neighb'ring Rose.--

--With modest Grace,
The running Blushes kindle all her Face.
Less beauteous glows the Indian Ivory,
When deeply tinctur'd by the Tyrian Dye.

Fair He appear'd, like shining Cynthia bright,
And purple Blushes grac'd the snowy White:
Such glowing Blushes stain the modest Maid,
When to th' expecting am'rous Youth convey'd,
And the new Pleasures of the Bridal Bed.
Thus bright the scarlet Amaranthus shines,
Which with the Lilly some fair Virgin joins:
A Hue like this, when ting'd by Autumn's Pride,
Reddens the Apple on the sunny Side.--

A Crimson Blush her conscious Face o'erspread--
So rising Phoebus paints the Skies with red:
So looks the Virgin in her nuptial Bed:
So op'ning Roses mix'd with Lillies glow:
So does the Moon in her Eclipses show.--


Boasting.
See Pride.

For tho' some talk they less should fear to die,
Than live with a Disease, or Infamy:
That they know well the Soul consists in Blood,
And our Philosophy can do no good:
Observe, they talk thus, rather out of Love
To empty Praise, than, what they say, approve.
For these same Men, to Chains, or Banishment,
Condemn'd; to Gallies, or to Prisons sent:
Tho' infamous by horrid Crimes they're grown,
Yet still endure, and patiently live on.
Nay more, where--e'er these boasting Wretches come,
They sacrifice black Sheep on ev'ry Tomb,
To please the Manes: and of all the Rout,
When Cares and Dangers press, grow most devout.--

But I am nobly born:--'tis true: go boast
Thy Pedigree, the Thing thou valu'st most:
Besides I am a Beau:--that too I grant:--
She that cry's Herbs has less Impertinence,
And, in her Calling, more of common Sense.--

My Work is finish'd, which nor dreads the Rage
Of Tempests, Fire, or War, or wasting Age:
Come, soon or late, Death's undetermin'd Day,
This mortal Being only can decay:
My nobler Part, my Fame, shall reach the Skies,
And to late Times with blooming Honours rise:
Whate'er th' unbounded Roman Pow'r obeys,
All Climes and Nations shall recal my Praise:
If 'tis allow'd to Poets to divine
One half of round Eternity is mine.--

A Monument, more durable than Brass,
And whose Magnificence does far surpass
Egypt's proud Pyramids, I've rais'd:--In vain
The northern Blast, the southern Show'rs of Rain,
Ages, and Time shall strive to pull it down again.
All of me shall not die: my Works shall save
The Noblest Portion from the greedy Grave:
I still shall flourish in the Rolls of Fame,
Still shall Posterity revere my Name;
Till the High--Priest and silent Maid no more
Ascend the Capitol, and Jove adore.--


Boy Handsome.

The lovely Boy was born with ev'ry Grace;
Ev'n Envy must have prais'd so fair a Face:
Such was his Form, as Painters when they show
Their utmost Art, on naked Loves bestow.
But lest the Dress should any Diff'rence make,
Shafts give to him, or else from Cupid take.--

Full in the midst, the princely Youth of Troy
By Venus lov'd, and worthy all her Care,
(His beauteous Head uncover'd) shone to View:
As shines a Gem inclos'd in yellow Gold,
Grace to the Head, or Neck: or Iv'ry set,
With curious Art, in Ebony, or Box:
His snowy Neck receives his flowing Hair,
Clasp'd in a Circle of soft ductile Gold.—