Selected quad for the lemma: cause_n
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A68287
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Cynthia VVith certaine sonnets, and the legend of Cassandra.
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Barnfield, Richard, 1574-1627.
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1595
(1595)
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STC 1484; ESTC S104851
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17,691
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72
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his beutie t'haue let in And on this verdict giuen agreed they bin VVherefore because his beauty did allure yee Your Doome is this in teares still to be drowned VVhen his faire forchead with disdain is frowned SONNET II. Beuty and Maiesty are falne at ods Th'one claimes his checke the other claimes his chin Then Vertue comes and puts her title in Quoth she I make him like th'immortall Gods Quoth Maiestie I owne his lookes his Brow His lips quoth Loue his eies his faire is mine And yet quoth Maiesty he is not thine I mixe Disdaine with Loues congealed Snow I but quoth Loue his lockes are mine by right His stately gate is mine quoth Maiestie And mine quoth Vertue is his Modestie Thus as they striue about this heauenly wight Atlast the other two to Vertue yeeld The lists of Loue fought in faire Beauties field SONNET III. The Stoicks thinke and they come neere the truth That vertue is the chiefest good of all The Academicks on Idea call The Epicures in pleasure spend their youth The Perrepatetickes iudge felicitie To be the chiefest good aboue all other One man thinks this that conceaues another So that in one thing very few agree Let Stoicks haue their Vertue if they will And all the rest their chiefe supposed good Let cruell Martialists delight in blood And Mysers ioy their bags with gold to fill My chiefest good my chiefe felicity Is to be gazing on my loues faire eie SONNET IIII. Two stars there are in one faire firmament Of some intitled Ganymedes sweet face VVhich other stars in brightnes doe disgrace As much as Po in clearenes passeth Trent Nor are they common natur'd stars for why These stars whē other shine vaile their pure light And when all other vanish out of sight They adde a glory to the worlds great eie By these two stars my life is onely led In them I place my ioy in them my pleasure Loues piercing Darts Natures precious treasure VVith their sweet foode my fainting soule is fed Then when my sunne is absent from my sight How can it chuse with me but be darke night SONNET V. It is reported of faire Thetis Sonne Achilles famous for his chiualry His noble minde and magnanimity That when the Troian wars were new begun VVhos'euer was deepe-wounded with his speare Could neuer be recured of his maime Nor euer after be made whole againe Except with that speares rust he holpen were Euen so it fareth with my fortune now VVho being wounded with his piercing eie Must either thereby finde a remedy Or els to be releeu'd I know not how Then if thou hast a minde stil to annoy me Kill me with kisses if thou wilt destroy me SONNET VI. Sweet Corrall lips where Natures treasure lies The balme of blisse the soueraigue salue of sorrow The secret touch of loues heart-burning arrow Come quench my thirst or els poore Daphne dies One night I dream'd alas twas but a Dreame That I did feele the sweetnes of the same Where-with inspir'd I young againe became And from my heart a spring of blood did streame But when I wak'e I found it nothing so Saue that my limbs me thought did waxe more strong And I more lusty far far more yong This gift on him rich Nature did bestow Then if in dreaming so I so did speede What should I doe if I did so indeede SONNET VII Sweet Thames I honour thee not for thou art The chiefest Riuer of the fairest Ile Nor for thou dost admirers eies beguile But for thou hold'st the keeper of my heart For on thy waues thy Christal billow'd waues My fairest faire my siluer Swan is swimming Against the sunne his pruned feathers trimming VVhilst Neptune his faire feete with water laues Neptune I feare not thee not yet thine eie And yet alas Apollo lou'd a boy And Cyparissus was Siluanus ioy No no I feare none but faire Thetis I For if she spie my Loue alas aie me My mirth is turn'd to extreame miserie SONNET VIII Sometimes I wish that I his pillow were So might I steale a kisse and yet not seene So might I gaze vpon his sleeping eine Although I did it with a panting feare But when I well consider how vaine my wish is Ah foolish Bees thinke I that doe not lucke His lips for hony but poore flowers doe plucke Which haue no sweet in them when his sole kisses Are able to reuiue a dying soule Kisse him but sting him not for if you doe His angry voice your flying will pursue But when they heare his tongue what can controule Their back returne for then they plaine may see How hony-combs from his lips dropping bee SONNET IX Diana on a time walking the wood To sport herselfe of her faire traine forlorne Chaunc't for to pricke her foote against a thorne And from thence issu'd out a streame of blood No sooner shee was vanisht out of sight But loues faire Queen came there away by chāce And hauing of this hap a glym'ring glance She put the blood into a christall bright When being now comne vnto mount Rhodope With her faire hands she formes a shape of Snow And blends it with this blood from whence doth grow A louely creature brighter then the Dey And being christned in faire Paphos shrine She call'd him Ganymede as all diuine SONNET X. Thus was my loue thus was my Ganymed Heauens ioy worlds wonder natures fairest work In whose aspect Hope and Dispaire doe lurke Made of pure blood in whitest snow yshed And for sweete Venus only form'd his face And his each member delicately framed And last of all faire Ganymede him named His limbs as their Creatrix her imbrace But as for his pure spotles vertuous minde Because it sprung of chaste Dianaes blood Goddesse of Maides directresse of all good Hit wholy is to chastity inclinde And thus it is as far as I can proue He loues to be belou'd but not to loue SONNET XI Sighing and sadly sitting by my Loue He ask't the cause of my hearts sorrowing Coniuring me by heauens eternall King To tell the cause which me so much did moue Compell'd quoth I to thee I will confesse Loue is the cause and onely loue it is That doth depriue me of my heauenly blisse Loue is the paine that doth my heart oppresse And what is she quoth he whō thou do'st loue Looke in this glasse quoth I there shalt thou see The perfect for me of my faelicitie When thinking that it would strāge Magique proue He open'd it and taking off the couer He straight perceau'd himselfe to be my Louer SONNET XII Some talke of Ganymede th' Idalian Boy And some offaire Adonis make their boast Some talke of him whom louely Lada lost And some of Ecchoes loue that was so coy They speake by heere-say 1 of perfect truth They partially commend the persons named And for them sweete Encomions haue framed I onely t'him haue sacrifiz'd my youth As for those wonders of antiquitie And those