A Paraphrase on an Ode in Horace’s Third Book, beginning thus:— “Inclusam Danaen turris ahenea.” by Abraham Cowley
I.
A tower of brass, one would have said,
And locks, and bolts, and iron bars,
And guards as strict as in the heat of wars
Might have preserved one innocent maidenhood.
The jealous father thought he well might spare
All further jealous care;
And as he walked, to himself alone he smiled
To think how Venus’ arts he had beguiled;
And when he slept his rest was deep,
But Venus laughed to see and hear him sleep.
She taught the amorous Jove
A magical receipt in love,
Which armed him stronger and which helped him more
Than all his thunder did and his almightyship before.
II.
She taught him love’s elixir, by which art
His godhead into gold he did convert;
No guards did then his passage stay,
He passed with ease, gold was the word;
Subtle as lightning, bright, and quick, and fierce,
Gold through doors and walls did pierce;
And as that works sometimes upon the sword,
Melted the maiden dread away,
Even in the secret scabbard where it lay.
The prudent Macedonian king,
To blow up towns, a golden mine did spring;
He broke through gates with this petar,
’Tis the great art of peace, the engine ’tis of war,
And fleets and armies follow it afar;
The ensign ’tis at land, and ’tis the seaman’s scar.
III.
Let all the world slave to this tyrant be,
Creature to this disguisèd deity,
Yet it shall never conquer me.
A guard of virtues will not let it pass,
And wisdom is a tower of stronger brass.
The muses’ laurel, round my temples spread,
Does from this lightning’s force secure my head,
Nor will I lift it up so high,
As in the violent meteor’s way to lie.
Wealth for its power do we honour and adore?
The things we hate, ill fate, and death, have more.
IV.
From towns and courts, camps of the rich and great,
The vast Xerxean army, I retreat,
And to the small Laconic forces fly
Which hold the straits of poverty.
Cellars and granaries in vain we fill
With all the bounteous summer’s store:
If the mind thirst and hunger still,
The poor rich man’s emphatically poor.
Slaves to the things we too much prize,
We masters grow of all that we despise.
V.
A field of corn, a fountain, and a wood,
Is all the wealth by nature understood.
The monarch on whom fertile Nile bestows
All which that grateful earth can bear,
Deceives himself, if he suppose
That more than this falls to his share.
Whatever an estate does beyond this afford,
Is not a rent paid to the Lord;
But is a tax illegal and unjust,
Exacted from it by the tyrant lust.
Much will always wanting be,
To him who much desires. Thrice happy he
To whom the wise indulgency of Heaven,
With sparing hand but just enough has given.
Other works by Abraham Cowley:
Some works by other baroque authors
- Sonnet 108: What’s in the brain that ink may character by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 107: Not mine own fears, nor the prophetic soul by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 106: When in the chronicle of wasted time by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 105: Let not my love be called idolatry by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 104: To me, fair friend, you never can be old by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 103: Alack, what poverty my Muse brings forth by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 102: My love is strengthened, though more weak in seeming by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 101: O truant Muse, what shall be thy amends by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 100: Where art thou, Muse, that thou forget’st so long by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet LIV by William Shakespeare
- Silvia by William Shakespeare
- Sigh No More by William Shakespeare
- Orpheus with his Lute Made Trees by William Shakespeare
- Orpheus by William Shakespeare
- Not marble nor the guilded monuments (Sonnet 55) by William Shakespeare
- Not from the stars do I my judgment pluck (Sonnet 14) by William Shakespeare
- Love by William Shakespeare
- It was a Lover and his Lass by William Shakespeare
- Hark! Hark! The Lark by William Shakespeare
- From you have I been absent in the spring… (Sonnet 98) by William Shakespeare
- from Venus and Adonis by William Shakespeare
- Fidele by William Shakespeare
- Fear No More by William Shakespeare
- Fairy Land v by William Shakespeare
- Fairy Land iv by William Shakespeare
- Fairy Land iii by William Shakespeare
- Fairy Land ii by William Shakespeare
- Dirge of the Three Queens by William Shakespeare
- Dirge by William Shakespeare
- Carpe Diem by William Shakespeare
- Bridal Song by William Shakespeare
- Blow, Blow, Thou Winter Wind by William Shakespeare
- Aubade by William Shakespeare
- A Lover’s Complaint by William Shakespeare
- A Fairy Song by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 128: How oft, when thou, my music, music play’st by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 149: Canst thou, O cruel, say I love thee not by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 148: O me! what eyes hath love put in my head by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 147: My love is as a fever, longing still by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 146: Poor soul, the centre of my sinful earth by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 145: Those lips that Love’s own hand did make by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 144: Two loves I have, of comfort and despair by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 143: Lo, as a careful huswife runs to catch by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 142: Love is my sin, and thy dear virtue hate by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 141: In faith, I do not love thee with mine eyes by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 140: Be wise as thou art cruel; do not press by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 13: O, that you were your self! But, love, you are by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 138: When my love swears that she is made of truth by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 137: Thou blind fool, Love, what dost thou to mine eyes by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 136: If thy soul check thee that I come so near by William Shakespeare
Abraham Cowley (1618 – 1667), the Royalist Poet.Poet and essayist Abraham Cowley was born in London, England, in 1618. He displayed early talent as a poet, publishing his first collection of poetry, Poetical Blossoms (1633), at the age of 15. Cowley studied at Cambridge University but was stripped of his Cambridge fellowship during the English Civil War and expelled for refusing to sign the Solemn League and Covenant of 1644. In turn, he accompanied Queen Henrietta Maria to France, where he spent 12 years in exile, serving as her secretary. During this time, Cowley completed The Mistress (1647). Arguably his most famous work, the collection exemplifies Cowley’s metaphysical style of love poetry. After the Restoration, Cowley returned to England, where he was reinstated as a Cambridge fellow and earned his MD before finally retiring to the English countryside. He is buried at Westminster Abbey alongside Geoffrey Chaucer and Edmund Spenser. Cowley is a wonderful poet and an outstanding representative of the English baroque.