Sunday, 9 September 2012

STOLEN THOUGHTS REFLECTING RUBY SPARKS & WITCH HARTS




Alexander and Campaspe - George Peel

{Accompanied by Cesar Franck's Redemption, Psyche}




"See, they begin to flock; and behold, my
master bustles himself to fly.


Larks that mount aloft in the air, build their nests below in the earth..."




'Hast thou, by drawing her beauty, brought to pass that thou canst scarce draw thine own breath ? And by so much the more hast thou increased thy care, by how much the more thou hast showed thy cunning: was it not sufficient to behold the fire, and warm thee, but with Satyrus thou must kiss the fire and burn thee.? Campaspe, Campaspe, art must yield to nature, reason to appetite, wisdom to affection ! Could Pygmalion entreat by prayer to have his ivory turned into flesh ? and cannot Apelles obtain by plaints' to have the picture of his love changed to life ? Is painting so far inferior to carving .' or dost thou, Venus, more delight to be hewed with chisels then shadowed with colours.'


'...beautiful countenance ! the express image of Venus, but somewhat fresher : the only pattern of that eternity which Jupiter, dreaming asleep, could not conceive again waking. Blush, Venus, for I am ashamed to end thee. Now must I paint things unpossible for mine art, but agreeable with my affections : deep and hollow sighs, sad and melancholy thoughts, wounds and slaughters of conceits, a life posting to death, a death galloping from life'..

[Song by Apelles.

Cupid and my Campaspe play'd
At cards for kisses, Cupid paid;
He stakes his quiver, bow, and arrows,
His mother's doves, and team of sparrows;
Loses them too ; then down he throws
The coral of his lip, tlie rose
Growing on's cheek (but none knows how),
With these, the crystal of his brow,
And then the dimple of his chin :
All these did my Campaspe win.
At last he set- her both his eyes;
She won, and Cupid blind did rise
].

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