LANIER: Nor com'st thou yet (Hero's complaint to Leander)

Hero’s complaint to Leander – Nicholas Lanier (1588-1666)

Performed live at Saint Thomas Church, Fifth Avenue (NYC)
Margaret Carpenter Haigh, soprano
William Simms, theorbo

Nor com’st thou yet,
my slothful love, nor yet;
Leander, O my Leander!
Can’st thou forget thy Hero?
Leander, why dost thou stay?
Who holds thee? Cruel!
What hath begot delay?

Too soon, alas,
the rosy fingered morn
will chase the darksome night;
Ah me! I burn, and die
in these my languishing desires.

See, see the taper wastes in his own fires, like me,
and will be spent before you come.
Make hast then, my Leander, prithee come.
Behold the winds and seas, deaf and enraged,
my imprecations have in part assuaged.
Their fury’s past, but thou more deaf than they,
more merciless torment’st me with delay.
If far from hence, upon thy native shore,
such high delights thou tak’st,
why did thou more incite my hot desires,
with faithless lines;
flattering me with promise,
that when the winds became less high,
and shores had some repose,
if I did but the friendly torch expose
to be thy guide, thou would’st not fail to come.

The shores have peace;
the winds and seas are dumb;
thy Hero here attends thee,
and the light invades the horror of the sable night.

Come quickly then,
and in these arms appear,
that have been oft
thy chiefest calm, thy sphere.

Wretch that I am!
‘Tis so, ye Gods ‘tis so;
whilst here I vent to Heaven
and seas my woe,
he at Abydos in a newer flame,
forgets that e’er he heard poor Hero’s name.

Ah! Lighter than blossoms or the fleeting air, that sheds them;
How, o how can’st thou repair thy broken faith?
Is this thy dear respects thou bear’st to oaths and vows?
Thus to neglect both Citherea and her nun?
Is this the inviolable band of Hymen?
This the knot before the sacred altar made of seaborn Venus?
Heavens lend your aid and arm yourselves in thunder.

Oh, but stay: what vain thoughts transport thee Hero?
Away with jealous fury; Leander’s thine, thou his,
and the poor youth at home lamenting is
the wary eyes of his old parents;
now steals from them apace unto the shore;
now with hasty hand doth fling his robes from him,
and even now, bold boy attempts to swim,
parting the swelling waves with ivory arms,
borne up alone by love’s all powerful charms.

You gentle peaceful winds,
if ever love had power in you,
if ever you did prove least spark of Cupid’s flame, for pity’s sake,
with softest gales more smooth and easy make,
the troubled floods unto my soul’s delight.

You showers, you storms, and tempests black as night
retire your fury till my love appear,
and bless these shores in safety,
and I here within my arms infold my only treasure.

Then, all enraged with horror,
send at pleasure the frothy billows high as Heaven,
that he may here forever be forced to dwell with me.

But hark; o wonder!
What sudden storm is this?
seas menace heavens
and the winds do hiss
in scorn of this my just request.

Retire, my too, too venturous love; retire;
tempt not the angry seas.
Ah me! The light’s blown out.
O gods; O deadly night;
Neptune, Aeolus, ye powerful deities,
spare, o spare my jewel;
pity the cries and tears of wretched Hero.
‘Tis Leander trusts you with his love and life,
fair Leander, beauty of these shores.

See, see the bashful morn,
for sorrow of my great laments, hath torn,
through cloudy night, a passage to my aid,
and here beneath, amidst the horrid shade,
by her faint light, something me thinks I spy,
resembling my soul’s joy.

Woe’s me, ‘tis he,
drowned by the impetuous floods.
O dismal hour!
Curst be the seas, these shores, this light, this tower.
in spite of fate, dear love to thee I come.
Leander’s bosom shall be Hero’s tomb.