Thelema and Macareus
Thelema's lively, all admire
Her charms, but she's too full of fire;
Impatience ever racks her breast,
Her heart a stranger is to rest.
A jocund youth of bulky size
This nymph beheld with tender eyes,
From hers his humor differed quite,
Black does not differ more from white.
On his broad face and open mien
There dwelt tranquility serene;
His converse is from languor free
And boisterous vivacity.
His sleep was sound and sweet at night,
Active he was at morn like light;
As day advanced he pleased still more,
Macareus was the name he bore.
His mistress void of thought as fair
Tormented him with too much care:
She adoration thought her due,
And into fierce reproaches flew;
Her Macareus with laughter left,
And of all hopes of bliss bereft.
From clime to clime like mad she ran
To seek the dear, the faithless man:
From him she could not live content,
So first of all to court she went.
There she of every one inquired,
'Is Macareus with you retired?'
Hearing that name the witlings there
To laugh and smile could scarce forbear.
'Madam,' said they, 'who is this squire
Macareus, for whom you inquire?
Madam, his character display,
Or else we shan't know what to say.'
'He is a man,' returned the fair,
'Possessed of each endowment rare,
A man of virtue so refined,
He hated none of human kind;
To whom no man e'er owed a spite,
Who always knew to reason right,
Who void of care lived still at ease,
And knew all human kind to please.'
The courtiers answered with a sneer,
'You are not like to find him here,
Mortals with such endowments rare
But seldom to the court repair.'
The fair then to the city bent
Her way, and stopped a convent.
She thought that in that calm retreat
She might her tranquil lover meet.
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poem by Voltaire
Added by Poetry Lover
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