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(From Jerusalem Conquered)
Translated by E. Fairfax
THE PURPLE morning left her crimson bed, | |
| And donned her robes of pure vermilion hue; | |
| Her amber locks she crowned with roses red, | |
| In Eden’s flowery gardens gathered new; | |
| When through the camp a murmur shrill was spread: | 5 |
| Arm, arm, they cried; arm, arm, the trumpets blew; | |
| Their merry noise prevents the joyful blast; | |
| So hum small bees, before their swarms they cast. | |
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| Their captain rules their courage, guides their heat, | |
| Their forwardness he stayed with gentle rein; | 10 |
| And yet more easy, haply, were the feat | |
| To stop the current near Charybdis’ main, | |
| Or calm the blustering winds on mountains great, | |
| Than fierce desires of warlike hearts restrain; | |
| He rules them yet, and ranks them in their haste, | 15 |
| For well he knows disordered speed makes waste. | |
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| Feathered their thoughts, their feet in wings were dight, | |
| Swiftly they marched, yet were not tired thereby, | |
| For willing minds make heaviest burdens light; | |
| But when the gliding sun was mounted high, | 20 |
| Jerusalem, behold, appeared in sight, | |
| Jerusalem they view, they see, they spy; | |
| Jerusalem with merry noise they greet, | |
| With joyful shouts, and acclamations sweet. | |
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| As when a troop of jolly sailors row, | 25 |
| Some new-found land and country to descry; | |
| Through dangerous seas and under stars unknow, | |
| Thrall to the faithless waves and trothless sky; | |
| If once the wished shore begin to show, | |
| They all salute it with a joyful cry, | 30 |
| And each to other show the land in haste, | |
| Forgetting quite their pains and perils past. | |
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| To that delight which their first sight did breed, | |
| That pleased so the secret of their thought, | |
| A deep repentance did forthwith succeed, | 35 |
| That reverend fear and trembling with it brought. | |
| Scantly they durst their feeble eyes dispread | |
| Upon that town, where Christ was sold and bought, | |
| Where for our sins he, faultless, suffered pain, | |
| There where he died, and where he lived again. | 40 |
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| Soft words, low speech, deep sobs, sweet sighs, salt tears, | |
| Rose from their breasts, with joy and pleasure mixt; | |
| For thus fares he the Lord aright that fears, | |
| Fear on devotion, joy on faith is fixt: | |
| Such noise their passions make, as when one hears | 45 |
| The hoarse sea-waves roar hollow rocks betwixt; | |
| Or as the wind in hoults and shady greaves | |
| A murmur makes, among the boughs and leaves. | |
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| Their naked feet trod on the dusty way, | |
| Following the ensample of their zealous guide; | 50 |
| Their scarfs, their crests, their plumes, and feathers gay, | |
| They quickly doft, and willing laid aside; | |
| Their moulten hearts their wonted pride allay, | |
| Along their watery cheeks warm tears down slide, | |
| And then such secret speech as this, they used, | 55 |
| While to himself each one himself accused: | |
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| Flower of goodness, root of lasting bliss, | |
| Thou well of life, whose streams were purple blood | |
| That flowed here, to cleanse the foul amiss | |
| Of sinful man, behold this brinish flood, | 60 |
| That from my melting heart distilled is; | |
| Receive in gree these tears, O Lord so good, | |
| For never wretch with sin so overgone, | |
| Had fitter time or greater cause to moan. | |
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| This while the wary watchman looked over, | 65 |
| From tops of Sion’s towers, the hills and dales, | |
| And saw the dust the fields and pastures cover, | |
| As when thick mists arise from moory vales: | |
| At last the sun-bright shields he ’gan discover, | |
| And glistering helms, for violence none that fails; | 70 |
| The metal shone like lightning bright in skies, | |
| And man and horse amid the dust descries. | |
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| Then loud he cries, O, what a dust ariseth! | |
| O, how it shines with shields and targets clear! | |
| Up, up, to arms, for valiant heart despiseth | 75 |
| The threatened storm of death, and danger near; | |
| Behold your foes: then further thus deviseth; | |
| Haste, haste, for vain delay encreaseth fear; | |
| These horrid clouds of dust, that yonder fly, | |
| Your coming foes do hide, and hide the sky. | 80 |
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