On My Lady Giffard's Loory

Of all the questions which the curious raise Either in search of knowledge or of praise, None seem so much perplexed or so nice As where to find the seat of paradise. But who could once that happy region name, From whence the fair and charming Loory came? To end this doubt would give the best advice, For this was sure the bird of paradise. Such radiant colours from no tainted air, Such notes and humour from no lands of care, Such unknown smells could from no common earth, From no known climate could receive a birth: For he alone in these alive outvy'd All the perfumes with which the phoenix died.

About a gentle turtle's was the size, The sweetest shape that e'er surprized eyes. A longish hawked bill, and yellow brown, A stick black velvet cap upon the crown. His back a scarlet mantle cover'd o'er, One purple sploach upon his neck he wore. His jetty eyes were circled all with flame; His swelling breast was, with his back, the same. All down his belly a deep violet hue Was gently shaded to an azure blue. His spreading wings were green, to brown inclin'd, But with a sweet pale straw-colour were lin'd. His tail, above was purples mixt with green, Under, a colour such as ne'er was seen; When like a fan it spread, a mixture bold Of green and yellow, grideline and gold. Thus by fond nature was he drest more gay Than eastern kings in all their rich array; For feather much, as well as flower, outvies In softness silk, in colour mortal dyes.

But none his beauty with his humour dare, Nor can his body with his soul compare. If that was wonder, this was prodigy; They differ'd as the finest earth and sky. If ever any reasonable soul Harbour'd in shape of either brute or fowl, This was the mansion; metamorphosy Gain'd here the credit lost in poetry. No passion moving in a human breast Was plainer seen, or livelier exprest. No wit or learning, eloquence or song, Acknowledg'd kindness, or complain'd of wrong, With accents half so feeling as his notes: Look how he rages, now again he doats; Brave like the eagle, meek as is the dove, Jealous as men, like women does he love. With bill he wounds you sudden as a dart, Then, nibbling, asks you pardon from his heart. He calls you back if e'er you go away, He thanks you if you are so kind to stay. When you return, with exultation high He raises notes that almost pierce the sky, But all in such a language, that we guest, Though he spoke ours, he found his own the best.

Such a badeen ne'er came upon the stage, So droll, so monkey in his play and rage; Sprawling upon his back, and pitching pyes, Twirling his head, and flurring at the flies. A thousand tricks and postures would he show, Then rise so pleas'd both with himself and you, That the amaz'd beholders could not say Whether the bird was happier, or they.

With a soft brush was tipt his wanton tongue, He lapt his water like a tiger young: His lady's teeth with this he prick'd and prun'd; With this a thousand various notes he tun'd. A chagrin fine cover'd his little feet, Which to wild airs would in wild measures meet. With these he took you by the hand, his prey With these he seiz'd, with these he hopt away. With these held up he made his bold defence, The arms of safety, love, and violence.

With all these charms Loory endow'd and drest, Forsaking climates with such creatures blest, From eastern regions and remotest strands Flew to the gentle Artemisa's hands; And, when from thence he gave the fatal start, Went to the gentle Artemisa's heart; Fed with her hands, and perch'd upon her head, From her lips water'd, nested in her bed; Nurst with her cares, preserved with her fears, And now, alas! embalmed with her tears. But sure among the griefs that plead just cause, This needs must be acquitted by the laws: For never could be greater passion, Concernment, jealousy, for mistress shown, Content in presence, and at parting grief; Trouble in absence, by return relief; Such application, that he was i' th' end Company, lover, play-fellow, and friend,

Could I but hope or live one man to find. As much above the rest of human-kind As this above the race of all that fly, Long should I live, contented should I die. Had such a creature heretofore appear'd When to such various Gods were altars rear'd, Who came transformed down in twenty shapes For entertainment, love, revenge, or rapes: Loory would then have Mercury been thought, And of him sacred images been wrought: For between him sure was sufficient odds, And all th' Egyptian, Gothic, Indian Gods: Nay, with more reason had he been ador'd Than Gods that parjur'd, Goddesses that whor'd: Yet such the greatest nations chose or found, And rais'd the highest plant from lowest ground.