|
LET the bird of loudest lay,
|
|
|
On
the sole Arabian tree,
|
|
|
Herald
sad and trumpet be,
|
|
|
To
whose sound chaste wings obey.
|
|
|
But thou shrieking harbinger,
|
5
|
|
Foul
precurrer of the fiend,
|
|
|
Augur
of the fever’s end,
|
|
|
To
this troop come thou not near.
|
|
|
From this session interdict
|
|
|
Every
fowl of tyrant wing,
|
10
|
|
Save
the eagle, feather’d king:
|
|
|
Keep
the obsequy so strict.
|
|
|
Let the priest in surplice white
|
|
|
That
defunctive music can,
|
|
|
Be
the death-divining swan,
|
15
|
|
Lest
the requiem lack his right.
|
|
|
And thou treble-dated crow,
|
|
|
That
thy sable gender mak’st
|
|
|
With
the breath thou giv’st and tak’st,
|
|
|
’Mongst
our mourners shalt thou go.
|
20
|
|
Here the anthem doth commence:
|
|
|
Love
and constancy is dead;
|
|
|
Phœnix
and the turtle fled
|
|
|
In
a mutual flame from hence.
|
|
|
So they lov’d, as love in twain
|
25
|
|
Had
the essence but in one;
|
|
|
Two
distincts, division none:
|
|
|
Number
there in love was slain.
|
|
|
Hearts remote, yet not asunder;
|
|
|
Distance,
and no space was seen
|
30
|
|
’Twixt
the turtle and his queen:
|
|
|
But
in them it were a wonder.
|
|
|
So between them love did shine,
|
|
|
That
the turtle saw his right
|
|
|
Flaming
in the phœnix’ sight;
|
35
|
|
Either
was the other’s mine.
|
|
|
Property was thus appall’d,
|
|
|
That
the self was not the same;
|
|
|
Single
nature’s double name
|
|
|
Neither
two nor one was call’d.
|
40
|
|
Reason, in itself confounded,
|
|
|
Saw
division grow together;
|
|
|
To
themselves yet either neither,
|
|
|
Simple
were so well compounded,
|
|
|
That it cried, ‘How true a twain
|
45
|
|
Seemeth
this concordant one!
|
|
|
Love
hath reason, reason none,
|
|
|
If
what parts can so remain.’
|
|
|
Whereupon it made this threne
|
|
|
To
the phœnix and the dove,
|
50
|
|
Co-supremes
and stars of love,
|
|
|
As
chorus to their tragic scene.
|
|
|
THRENOS
Beauty, truth, and rarity,
|
|
|
Grace
in all simplicity,
|
|
|
Here
enclos’d in cinders lie.
|
55
|
|
Death is now the phœnix’ nest;
|
|
|
And
the turtle’s loyal breast
|
|
|
To
eternity doth rest,
|
|
|
Leaving no posterity:
|
|
|
’Twas
not their infirmity,
|
60
|
|
It
was married chastity.
|
|
|
Truth may seem, but cannot be;
|
|
|
Beauty
brag, but ’tis not she;
|
|
|
Truth
and beauty buried be.
|
|
|
To this urn let those repair
|
65
|
|
That
are either true or fair;
|
|
|
For
these dead birds sigh a prayer.
|
|