in honor of the desired marriage between the honorable,
worthy, wise, prudent bridegroom,
and the modest, virtuous, well mannered, intelligent, discreet young lady,
HENDRICKJEN, BARENT'S daughter,
joined in holy matrimony, on the
3d of June, in Amsterdam, in the year, 1631.
So soon as Morn had opened the golden door of Day,
Cupid, the little wight, from a window hied away,
With his quiver and arrows, and a bow in one hand,
First to Venus, the goddess, and then to Amstel land.
Now in his way there came upon him a young lover,
Going to woo as fate would have him then discover,
Whom he greets and begins forthwith to teach speech and ways,
And brings him to a nymph, the sole subject of his praise.
Then away flies Cupid over the same path he came,
Having kindled in two hearts Love's ever-bright'ning flame,
Which the sly archer fans when into the house he steals
To wound with a dart a spot no armor ever shields;
Which oft he does with gleeful pride and freakish fancy,
With clever art and a natural necromancy.
Bright as the sun her beauty, her smile has no deceit;
The sweetness of her voice no nightingale can repeat.
The flitting sprite, impatient for a declaration,
Burns offerings on an altar for inspiration.
When lo and behold! the man is lastingly smitten,
And sees his fate is fully fix'd and plainly written.
To speed the dull days of his waiting and discontent
It was then Thomas's delight and Swartwout's happy bent
To go and sigh in his fair fiance's pretty bower,
And become the more enamored each passing hour.
His quiet moods and doleful mien gave her no distress;
And even when he dared at last his love to confess,
She tried sore his patience with coquettish playfulness,
Ere she made his soul heavenward go, saying "yes!"
Sir Groom, on this bright, auspicious, joyful, nuptial day,
You have the lovely token for which you pined straightway
And longed to enjoy without stint, price, or trouble,
And yet vow'd to have, even should the cost be double.
When a rare rose from a blooming bush you seek to cull,
Let not your hand be over rash nor your eye too dull,
Else you'll be sorely prick'd and bled by many a thorn
Before the beauteous flower from the bough be shorn.
Its sweet delicious fragrance you gratefully inhale,
And richly prize the flower on which your eyes regale;
For to you its value is a royal recompense
For all the pain and trouble you had in consequence.
Forget, Sir Groom, henceforth the sufferings of the past,
And think of the bliss of your possessing her at last!
And thou, O Lovely Bride, is it not your happy thought,
That he and you may realize now what each has sought!
And thou, Proud Groom, wilt never leave this rarest treasure
By wish of king or prelate whate'er be his pleasure
To make you serve his regal will or tyrannic might;
Now, Sir Groom, there is plain proof by which to understand
That your fleet is safe at anchor and not far from land,
While our poor craft, that in foreign waters dare not sail,
Make no voyages to our liking; in hope we fail
Ever on the vast tumultuous sea and wild tides
To plough a course unless assisted by expert guides.
Neptune gives the wind by which to approach a port,
Hence, dear beloved bridemaids, pray do not forbid us court;
But follow you the bride, in the spring-time of your lives,
For as long as you live you'll be enjoyable wives.
Pray let the bride now pass to her neat nuptial bed,
Which, as a stately palace with myrtle overspread,
Is deck'd with green periwinkle and flowers combined,
And shining with spangles, to honor the bride designed.
You two, who now are joined together by holy ties,
Take constant heed of yourselves, watch with eager eyes
For the first sign of fret or strife, that no second comes;
That no false tattling your ardent, trustful love benumbs,
So that, O Happy Couple, with gladness you may go
Your way through life without any self-made distress or woe.
Do this without hesitation and with constant joy,
And nothing, by God's grace, will your happiness destroy.
Therefore, O Wedded Pair, pray be to each other dear,
With upright hearts to make your consciences clear.
And be ye faithful to each other, like Seladon,
Who found not his spouse on the beach his heart to gladden,
But in the hands of pirates, who many did appear;
One made a doleful cry and to deprive him of cheer
Allow'd her time enough to say: "Love, take me with you!"
They bound and cropp'd him with many pains and aches anew.
They then sped thence away thinking not of the just king
To whose knowledge this outrage people would timely bring.
He with wonder hears the story of the shepherd's woes;
They pain his heart that quickly its deep sympathy shows,
And gains for this Seladon virtue's true reward,
For he was faithful and gallant as any earl or lord.
So drop the thing which a slander or a quarrel may cause
So that no trouble nor fear at your heart ever gnaws;
For on a new sore a hard plaster may make one moan
When it draws as if to get the marrow from the bone.
Let each discover by harmonious and happy ways
The cause of a trouble, and let it not go for days
Eating like a cancer, for thus into love eats hate,
But uproot it, and let your hearts and minds be elate
With grateful feeling before you go to bed at night,
Let it exist in your dreams to your supreme delight,
Like fair Rosette, who in her disgrace did thus descant:
"I envy none nor fret, I, Rosette, love my gallant,
For no misery here, nor pains, can make me repine,
So long as his heart and desire appear to be mine."
Behold, Sir Groom, the time is rapidly coming near,
When you and your bride may joyously withdraw from here.
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