LUCASTA Posthume POEMS OF Richard Lovelace Esq Those Honours come too late That on our Ashes waite Mart. lib. 1. Epig. 26. LONDON Printed by William Godbid for Clement Darby 1659. THE DEDICATION To the Right Honorable Iohn Lovelace Esquire SIR LUcasta fair but hapless Maid Once flourisht underneath the shade Of your Illustrious Mother Now An Orphan grown she bows to you To YOU Her vertues noble Heir Oh may she find protection there Nor let her welcome be the less â—Cause a rough hand makes her Addresse One to whom Foes the Muses are Born and Bred up in Rugged War For Conscious how unfit I am I only have pronounc'd her Name To waken pity in your Brest And leave Her Tears to plead the Rest. SIR Your most obedient Servant and Kinsman Dudley Posthumus-Lovelace POEMS To LVCASTA Her Reserved looks LVcasta frown and let me die But smile and see I live The sad indifference of your Eye Both kills and doth reprieve You hide our fare within its screen We feel our judgment ere we hear So in one Picture I have seen An Angel here the Divel there Lucasta laughing HEark how she laughs aloud Although the world put on its shrowd Wept at by the fantastick Crowd Who cry One drop let fall From her might save the Universal Ball. She laughs again At our ridicâ—lous pain And at our merry misery She laughs until she cry Sages forbear That ill-contrived tear Although your fear Doth barricadoe Hope from your soft Ear That which still makes her mirth to flow Is our sinister-handed woe Which downwards on its head doth go And ere that it is sown doth grow This makes her spleen contract And her just pleasure feast For the unjustest act Is still the pleasant'st jest SONG 1. Strive not vain Lover to be fine Thy silk's the Silk-worms and not thine You lessen to a Fly your Mistris Thought To think it may be in a Cobweb caught What though her thin transparent lawn Thy heart in a strong Net hath drawn Not all the Arms the God of Fire ere made Can the soft Bulwarks of nak'd Love invade 2. Be truly fine then and your self dress In her fair Souls immac'late glass Then by reflection you may have the bliss Perhaps to see what a True fineness is When all your Gawderies will fit Those only that are poor in wit She that a clinquant outside doth adore Dotes on a gilded Statue and no more In allusion to the French-Song N' entendez vous pas ce language Cho. THen understand you not Fair choice This Language without tongue or voice 1. How often have my Tears Invaded your soft Ears And dropt their sâ—lent Chimes A thousand thousand times Whilst Echo did your eyes And sweetly Sympathize But that the wary Lid Their Sluces did forbidâ— Cho. Then understand you not Fair choice This Language without tongue or voice 2. My Arms did plead my wound Each in the other bound Volleys of Sighs did crowd And ring my griefs alowd Grones like a Canon Ball Batter'd the Marble Wall That the kind Neighbring Grove Did mutiny for Love Cho. Then understand you not Fair Choice This Language withoâ—t tongue or voice 3. The Rheth'rick of my Hand Woo'd you to understand Nay in our silent walk My very Feet would talk My Knees were eloquent And spake the Love I meant But deaf unto that Ayr They bent would fall in Prayer Cho. Yet understand you not Fair Choice This Language without tongue or voice 4. No Know then I would melt On every Limb I felt And on each naked part Spread my expanded Heart That not a Vein of thee But should be fill'd with mee Whil'st on thine own Down I Would â—â—mble pant and dye Cho. You understand not this Fair Choice This Language â—ants both tongue and voice Night To Lucasta NIght loathed Jaylor of the lock'd up Sun And Tyrant-turnkey on committed day Bright Eyes lye fettered in thy Dungeon And Heaven it self doth thy dark Wards obey Thou dost arise our living Hell With thee grones terrors furies dwell Untill Lucasta doth awake And with her Beams these heavy chains off shake Behold with opening her Almighty Lid Bright eyes break rowling and with lustre spread And captive Day his chariot mounted is Night to her proper Hell is beat And scâ—ued to her Ebon Seat Till th' Earth with play oppressed lies And drawes again the Curtains of her Eyes But Bondslave I know neither Day nor Night Whether she murth'ring sleep or saving wake Now broyl'dith ' Zone of her reflected light Then frose my Isicles not Sinews shake Smile then new Nature your soft blast Doth melt our Ice and Fires wast Whil'st the scorch'd shiv'ring world new born Now feels it all the day one rising morn Love Inthron'd Ode 1. INtroth I do my self perswade That the wilde Boy is grown a Man And all his Childishnesse off laid E're since Lucasta did his fires Fan H' has left his apish Jigs And whipping Hearts like Gigs For t'other day I heard him swear That Beauty should be crown'd in Honours Chair 2. With what a true aâ—d heavenly State He doth his glorious Darts dispence Now cleans'd from Falshood Blood and Hate And newly tipt with Innocence Love Justice is become And doth the Cruel doome Reversed is the old Decree Behold he sits Inthron'd with Majestie 3. Inthroned in Lucasta's Eye He doth our Faith and Hearts Survey Then measures them by Sympathy And each to th' others Breast convey Whilst to his Altars Now The frozen Vestals Bow And strickt Diana too doth go A hunting with his fear'd exchanged Bow 4. Th' Imbracing Seas and Ambient Air Now in his holy fires burn Fish couple Birds and Beasts in pair Do their own Sacrifices turn This is a Miracle That might Religion swell But she that these and their God awes Her crowned Self submits to her own Laws Her Muffe 1. 'T Was not for some calm blessing to deceive Thou didst thy polish'd hands in shagg'd â—urs weave It were no blessing thus obtain'd Thou rather would'st a curse have gain'd Then let thy warm driven snow be ever stainâ—d 2. Not that you feared the discolo'ring cold Might alchymize their Silver into Gold Nor could your ten white Nuns so sin That you should thus pennance them in Each in her course hair smock of Discipline 3. Nor Herâ—-like who on their crest still wore A Lyon Panther Leopard or a Bore To look their Enemies in their Herse Thou would'st thy hand should deeper pierce And in its softness rough appear more fierce 4. No no Lucasta destiny Decreed That Beasts to thee a sacrifice should bleed And strip themselves to make you gay For ne'r yet Herald did display A Coat where Sables upon Ermin lay 5. This for Lay-Lovers that must stand at dore Salute the threshold and admire no more But I in my Invention tough Rate not this outward bliss enough But still contemplate must the hidden Muffe A Black patch on Lucasta's Face DUll as I was to think
not this finer far Then walk un-hided when that every Stone Has knock'd acquaintance with your Anckle bone VVhen your wing'd papers like the last dove nere Return'd to quit you of your hope or fear But left you to the mercy of your Host And your days fare a fortified Toast How many battel 's sung in Epick strain Would have procur'd your head thatch from the rain Not all the arms of Thebes and Troy would get One knife but to anatomize your meat A funeral Elegy with a sad boon Might make you hei sip wine like Maccaroon But if perchance there did a Riband come Not the Train-band so fierce with all its drum Yet with your torch you homeward would retire And heart'ly wish your bed your fun'ral Pyre With what a fury have I known you feed Upon a Contract and the hopes't might speed Not the fair Bride impatient of delay Doth wish like you the Beauties of that day Hotter than all the rosted Cooks you sat To dresse the fricace of your Alphabet Which sometimes would be drawn dough Anagrame Sometimes Acrostick parched in the Flame Then Posâ—es stew'd with Sippets motto's by Of minced Verse a miserable Pye How many knots slip'd ere you twist their name With th' old device as both their Heart 's the same Whilst like to drills the Feast in your false â—aw You would transmit at leasure to your Maw Then after all your fooling fat and wine Glutton'd at last return at home to pine Tell me O Sun since first your beams did play To Night and did awake the sleepiâ—g day Since first your steeds of Light their race did start Did you ere blush as now Oh thou that art The common Father to the base Pissmire As well as great Alcideâ— did the fire From thine owne Altar which the gods adore Kindle the Souls of Gnats and Wasps before Who would delight in his chast eyes to see Dormise to strike 〈◊〉 Lights of Poesie Faction and Envy now is downright Rage Once a five knotted whip there was the Stage The Beadle and the â—xecâ—tioner To whip small Errors and the great ones tear Now as er'e Nimrod the first King he wâ—iâ—es That 's strongest th'ablest deepest bites The Muses weeping fly their Hill to see Their noblest Sons of peace in Mutinie Could there nought else this civil war compleat But Poets raging with Poetick heat Tearing themselves and th endlâ—sse wreaâ—h as though Immortal they their wrath should be so too And doubly fir'd Apollo burns to see In silent Helicon a Naumachie Parnassus hears these as his first alarms Never till now Minerva was in arms O more then Conqu'ror of the World great Rome Thy Hero's did with gentleness or'e come Thy Foes themselves but one another first Whilst Envy stript alone was left and burst The learn'd Decemviri 't is true did strive But to add flames to keep their fame alive Whilst the eternal Lawrel hung i th' Air Nor of these ten Sons was there found one Heir Like to the golden Tripod it did pass From this to this till 't came to him whose 't was Caesar to Gallus trundled it and he To Maro Maro Naso unto thee Naso to his Tibullus flung the wreath He to Catullus thus did each bequeath This glorious Circle to another round At last the Temples of their God it bound I might believe at least that each might have A quiet fame contented in his Grave Envy the living not the dead doth bite For after death all men receave their right If it be Sacriledge for to profane Their Holy Ashes what is 't then their Flame He does that wrong unweeâ—ing or in Ire As if one should put out the Vestal fire Let Earths four quarters speak and thou Sun bear Now witnesse for thy Fellow-Traveller I was ally'd dear Vncle unto thee In blood but thou alas not unto me Your vertues pow'rs and mine differ'd at best As they whose Springs you saw the East and West Let me a while be twisted in thy Shine And pay my due devotions at thy Shrine Might learned Waynman rise who went with thee In thy Heav'ns work beside Divinity I should sit still or mightâ— Falâ—land stand To justifie with breath his pow'rful hand The glory that doth circle your paâ—'Urn Might hallow'd still and undefiled â—urn But I forbear Flames that ate wildl thrown At sacred heads â—urie back uâ—on their own Sleep heav'nly Sands whilst 〈◊〉 they do or write Is to give God himself and you your right There is not in my mind one sullen Fate Of old but is concentred in our state Vandall ore-runners Goths in Literature Ploughmen that would Parnassus nâ—w manure Ringers of Verse that All-in chime And toll the changes upon everâ— Rhime A Mercer now by th'yard does measure ore An Ode which was but by the foot before Deâ—ls you an Ell of Epigram and swears It is the strongest and the finest Wears No wonder if a Drawer Verses Rack If 't is not his 't may be the Spir't of Sack Whilst the Fair Bar-maid stroaks the Muses teat For milk to make the Posset up compleaâ— Arise thou rev'rend shade great Iohnson rise Break through thy marble natural disguise Behold a mist of Insects whose meer Breath Will melt thy hallow'd leadâ—n house of Death What was Crispinus that you should defie The Age for him he durst not look so high As your immortal Rod He still did stand Honour'd and held his forehead to thy brand These Scorpions with which we have to do Are Fiends not only small but deadly too Well mightst thou rive thy Quill up to the Back And scrue thy Lyre's grave chords untill they crack For though once Hell resented Musick these Divels will not but are in worse disease How would thy masc'line Spirit Father Ben Sweat to behold basely deposed men Justled from the Prerog'tive of their Bed Whilst wives are peâ—'vig'd with their husbands head Each snatches the male quill from his faint hand And must both nobler write and understand He to her fury the soft plume doth bow OPen nere truely justly slit till now Now as her self a Poem she doth dresse And curls a Line as she would do a tresse Powders a Sonnet as she does her hair Then prostitutes them both to publick Aire Nor is 't enough that they their faces blind With a false dye but they must paint their mind In meeter scold and in scann'd order brawl Yet there 's one Sapho left may sâ—ve them all But now let me â—ecal my passion Oh from a noble Father nobler Son You that alone are the Clarissimi And the whole gen'rous state of Venice be It shall not be recorded Sanazar Shall boaâ—t inthron'd alone this new made star You whose correcting Sweetnesse hath sorbad Shame to the good and glory to the bad Whose honour hath 〈◊〉 into 〈◊〉 tam'd These Swarms that now so angerly I nam'd Forgive what thus distemper'd Iindite For it is hard a Satyre not to write Yet as a Virgin that
that a Court Fly Presum'd so neer her Eye When 't was th' industrious Bee Mistook her glorious Face for Paradise To summe up all his Chymistry of Spice With a brave pride and honour led Neer both her Suns he makes his bed And though a Spark struggles to rise as red Then Aemulates the gay Daughter of Day Acts the Romantick Phoenix fate When now with all his Sweets lay'd out in state Lucasta scatters but one Heat And all the Aromatick pills doâ—â—weat And Gums calcin'd themselves to powder beat Which a fresh gale of Air Conveys into her Hair Then chaft he 's set on fire And in these holy flames doth glad expire And that black marble Tablet there So neer her either Sphere Was plaâ—â—d nor foyl nor Ornament But the sweet little Bees large Monument Another 1. AS I beheld a Winters Evening Air Curl'd in her court false locks of living hair Butter'd with Jessamine the Sun left there 2. Galliard and câ—inquant she appear'd to give A Serenade or Ball to us that grieve And teach us Alamode more gently live 3. But as a Moor who to her Cheeks prefers White Spots t' allure her black Idolaters Me thought she look'd all ore bepatch'd with Stars 4. Like the dark front of some Ethiopian Queen Vailed all ore with Gems of Red Blew Green Whose â—gly Night seem'd masked with days Skreen 5. Whilst the fond people offer'd Sacrifice To Saphyrs ' stead of Veins and Arteries And bow'd unto the Diamonds not her Eyes 6. Behold Lucasta's Face how 't glows like Noon A Sun intire is her complexion And form'd of one whole Constellation 7. So gently shining so serene so cleer Her look doth Universal Nature cheer Only a cloud or two hangs here and there To Lucasta 1. I Laugh and sing but cannot tell Whether the folly on 't â—ounds well But then I groan Methinks in Tune Whilst Grief Despair and Fear dance to the Air Of my despised Prayer 2. A pretty Antick Love does this Then strikes a Galliard with a Kiss As in the end The Chords they rendâ— So you but with a touch from your fair Hand Turn all to Saraband To Lucasta 1. LIke to the Sentâ—nel Stars I watch all Night For still the grand round of your Light And glorious Breast Awakes in me an East Nor will my rolling Eyes ere know a West 2. Now on my Down I 'm toss'd as on a Wave And my repose is made my Grave Fluttering I lye Do beat my Self and dye But for a Resurrection from your eye 3. Ah my fair Murdresse dost thou cruelly heal With Various pains to make me well Then let me be Thy cut Anatomie And in each mangled part my heart you 'l see Lucasta at the Bath 1. I' th' Autumn of a Summers day When all the Winds got leave to playâ— Lucasta that fair Ship is lanch'd â—nd from its crust this Almond blanch'd 2. Blow then unruly Northwind blow 'Till in their holds your Eyes you stow And swell your Cheeks bequeath chill Death See! she hath smil'd thee out of Breath 3. Court gentle Zephyr court and fan Her softer breast's carnation'd Wan Your charming Rhethorick of Down Flyes scatter'd from before her frown 4. Say my white Water-Lilly say How is 't those warm streams break away Cut by thy chast cold breast which dwells Amidst them arm'd in Isicles 5. And the hot floods more raging grown In flames of Thee then in their own In their distempers wildly glow And kisse thy Pillar of fix'd Snow 6. No Sulphur through whose each blew Vein The thick and lazy Currents strein Can cure the Smarting nor the fell Blisters of Love wherewith they swell 7. These great Physicians of the Blind The Lame and fatal Blains of Inde In every drop themselves now see Speckled with a new Leprosie 8. As Sick drinks are with old Wine dash'd Foul Waters too with Spirits wash'd Thou greiv'd perchance one teaâ— let'st fall Which straight did purifie them all 9. And now is cleans'd enough the flood Which since runs cleare as doth thy blood Of the wet Pearls uncrown thy hair And mantle thee with Ermin Air. 10. Lucasta hail fair Conqueresse Of Fire Air Earth and Seas Thou whom all kneel to yet even thou Wilt unto Love thy captive bow The Ant. 1. FOrbear thou great good Husband little Ant A little respiâ—e from thy flood of sweat Thou thine own Horse and Cart under this Plaâ— Thy spacious tent fan thy prodigious heat Down with thy double load of that one grain It is a Granarie for all thy Train 2. Cease large example of wise thrift a while For thy example is become our Law And teach thy frowns a seasonable smile So Cato sometimes the nak'd Florals saw And thou almighty foe lay by thy sting Whilst thy unpay'd Musicians Crickets sing 3. Lucasta She that holy makes the Day And ' stills new Life in fields of Fâ—eillemort Hath back restor'd their Verdure with one Ray And with her Eye bid all to play and sport Ant to work still Age will Thee Truant call And to save now th' art worse than prodigal 4. Austere and Cynick not one hour t' allow To lose with pleasure what thou goâ—st with pain But drive on sacred Festivals thy Plow Tearing high-ways with thy ore charged Wain Not all thy life time one poor Minute live And thy o're labour'd Bulk with mirth relieve 5. Look up then miserable Ant and spie Thy fatal foes for breaking of her Law Hov'ring above thee Madam Margaret Pie And her fierce Servant Meagre Sir Iohn Daw Thy Self and Storehouse now they do store up And thy whole Harvest too within their Crop 6. Thus we untrifty thrive within Earths Tomb For some more rav'nous and ambitious Jaw The Grain in th' Ants the Ants in the Pies womb The Pie in th' Hawks the Hawks i th' Eagles maw So scattering to hord 'gainst a long Day Thinking to save all we cast all away The Snayl WIse Emblem of our Politick World Sage Snayl within thine own self curl'd Instruct me softly to make hast Whilst these my Feet go slowly fast Compendious Snayl thou seem'st to meâ— Large Euclids strickt Epitome And in each Diagram dost Fling Thee from the point unto the Ring A Figure now Triangulare An Oval now and now a Square And then a Serpentine dost crawl Now a straight Line now crook'd now all Preventing Rival of the Day Th' art up and openest thy Ray And ere the Morn cradles the Moon Th' art broke into a Beauteous Noon Then when the Sun sups in the Deep Thy Silver Horns e're Cinâ—hia's peep And thou from thine own liquid Bed New Phoebus heav'st thy pleasant Head Who shall a Name for thee create Deep Riddle of Mysterious State Bold Nature that gives common Birth To all products of Seas and Earth Of thee as Earth-quakes is affraid Nor will thy dire Deliv'ry aid Thou thine own daughter then and Sire That Son and Mother art intire That big still with thy self dost
gave the choyce to me Which I not weigh'd young and indifferent Now full of nought but Victorie So we both met in one of 's Mothers Groves The time at the first murm'ring of her Doves 4. I stript my self naked all o're as he For so I was best arm'd when bare His 〈◊〉 passe did my Liver rase yet I Made home a falsify too neer For when my Arm to it 's true distance came I nothing touch'd but a fantastick flame 5. This this is Love we â—aily quarrel so An idle Don-Quichoterie We whip our selves with our own twisted wo And wound the Ayre for a Fly The only way t' undo this Enemy Is to laugh at the Boy and he will cry CUPID far gone 1. WHat so beyond all madnesse is the Els Now he hath got out of himselâ— His fatal Enemy the Bee Nor his deceiv'd Artillerie His Shackles not the Roses bough Ne'r half so netled him as he is â—ow 2. See! at 's own Mother he is offering His Finger now fits any Ring Old Cybele he would enjoy And now the Girl and now the Boy He proâ—â—ers Iove a back Caresse And all his Love in the Antipodes 3. Jealous of his chast Psyche raging he Quarrels the Student Mercurie And with a proud submissive Breath Offers to change his Darts with Death He strikes at the bright Eye of Day And Iuno tumbles in her milky way 4. The dear Sweet Secrets of the Gods he tells And with loath'd hate lov'd heaven he swells Now like a fury he belies Myriads of pure Virginities And swears with this false frenzy hurld There 's not a vertuous She in all the World 5. Olympus he renownces then descends And makes a friendship with the Fiends Bids Charon be no more a â—lave He Argos rigg'd with Stars shall have And triple Cerberus from below Must leash'd t' himself with him a hunting go A Mock-Song NOw Whitehalls in the grave And our Head is our slave The bright pearl in his close shell of Oyster Now the Miter is lost The proud Praelates too crost And all Rome's confin'd to a Cloyster He that Tarquin was styl'd Our white Land 's exil'd Yea undeâ—il'd Not a Court Ape 's leâ—t to confute us Then let your Voyces rise high As your Colours did fly And flour'shing cry Long live the brave Oliver-Brutus 2. Now the Sun is unarm'd And the Moon by us charm'd All the Stars dissolv'd to a Jelly Now the Thighs of the Crown And the Arms are lopp'd down And the Body is all but a Belly Let the Commons go on The Town is our own We 'l rule aâ—one For the Knights have yielded their Spent-gorge And an order is tane With HONY SOIT profane Shout forth amain For our Dragon hath vanquish'd the St. George A Fly caught in a Cobweb SMall type of great ones that do hum Within this whole World's narrow Room That with a busie hollow Noise Catch at the people's vainer Voice And with spread Sails play with their breath Whose very Hails new christen Death Poor Fly caught in an airy net Thy Wings have fetter'd now thy feet Where like a Lyon in a Toyl Howere thou keep'st a noble Coyl And beat'st thy gen'rous breast that ore The plains thy fatal buzzes rore Till thy all-belly'd foe round Elâ— Hath quarter'd thee within himself Was it not better once to play I' th' light of a Majestick Ray Where thouâ—h too neer and bold the fire Might sindge thy upper down attire And thou i th' storm to loose an Eye A Wing or a self-trapping Thigh Yet hadâ—â— thou faln like him whose Coil Made Fishes in the Sea to broyl When now th' ast scap'd the noble Flame Trapp'd basely in a slimy frame And free of Air thou art become Slave to the spawn of Mud and Lome Nor is 't enough thy self do'st dresse To thy swoln Lord a num'rous messe And by degrees thy thin Veins bleed And piece-meal dost his poyson feed But now devouâ—'d art like to be A Net spun for thy Familie And straight expanded in the Air Hang'st for thy issue too a snare Strange witty Death and cruel ill That killing thee thou thine dost kill Like Pies in whose intombed ark All Fowl crowd downward to a Lark Thou art thine En'mies Sepulcher And in thee buriest too thine heir Yet Fates a glory have reserv'd For one so highly hath deserv'd As the Rhinoceros doth dy Under his Castle-Enemy As through the Cranes trunk Throat doth speed The Aspe doth on his feeder feed Fall yet triumphant in thy woe Bound with the entrails of thy foe A Fly about a Glasse of Burnt Claret 1. FOrbear this liquid Fire Fly It is more fatal then the dry That singly but embracing wounds And this at once both burns and drowns 2. The Salamander that in heat And flames doth cool his monstrous sweat Whose fan a glowing cake is said Of this red furnace is afraid 3. Viewing the Ruby-christal shine Thou tak'st it for Heaven-Christalline Anon thou wilt be taught to groan 'T is an ascended Acheron 4. A Snowball-heart in it let fall And take it out a Fire-ball An Icy breast in it betray'd Breaks a destructive wild Granade 5. 'T is this makes Venus Altars shine This kindles frosty Hymen's Pine When the Boy grows old in his desires This Flambeau 〈…〉 light his fires â— Though the cold Hermit ever wail Whose sighs do freeze and â—ears drop hail Once having 〈…〉 Another 〈…〉 â— The Vestal drinking 〈◊〉 doth burn Now more 〈…〉 fun'ral Urn Her fires that 〈◊〉 the Sun kept race Are now exâ—inguish'd by her Face 8. The Chymist that himself doth still â—et him but tast this Limbecks bill And prove this â—â—blimated Bowl He 'l swear it will calcine a Soul 9. Noble and brave now thou dost know The false prepared decks below Dost thou the fatal liquor sup One drop alas thy Barque blowes up 10. What airy Country hast to save Whose plagues thou'lt bury in thy grave â—or even now thou seemst to us â—n this Gulphs brink a Curtius 11. And now th' art faln magnanimous Fly In where thine Ocean doth fry Like the Sun's son who blush'd the flood To a complexion of blood 12. Yet see my glad Auricular Redeems thee though dissolv'd a Star Flaggy thy Wings and scorch'd thy Thighs Thou ly'st a double Sacrifice 13. And now my warming cooling breath Shall a new life afford in Death See! in the Hospital of my hand Already cur'd thou fierce do'st stand 14. Burnt Inâ—ect dost thou reaspire The moist-hot-glasse and liquid fire I see 't is such a pleasing pain Thou would'st be scorch'd and drown'd again Female Glory 'MOngst the worlds wonders there doth yet remain One greater than the rest that 's all those o're agaâ—â— And her own self beside A Lady whose soft Breast Is with vast Honours Soul and Virtues Life possest Fair as Original Light first from the Chaos shot When day in Virgin-beams triumph'd and Night was not And as that Breath infus'd in the New-breather
swell'd with envy burâ—â—ing with disdaâ—n Did cry to cry and weep them out again And now what 〈◊〉 must I invade what Sphere Rifle of all her Stars t'inthrone her there No Phoebus by thy Boys fate we beware Th' unruly flames 〈◊〉 ' firebrand thy Carr Although she there once plac'd thou Sun shouldst see Thy day both Nobler governed and thee Drive on Bootes thy 〈◊〉 heavy wayn Then grease thy VVheeâ— with Amber in the Main And Neptune thou to thy false Thetis gallop Appollo's set within thy Bed of Scallop VVhilst Amôret on the reconciled VVinds Mounted and drawn by six Caelestial Minds She armed was with Innocence and fire That did not burn for it was Chast Desire VVhilst a new Light doth gild the standers by Behold it was a Daâ— shot from her Eye Chafing perfumes o th' East did throng and sweat But by her breath they melting back were beat A Crown of Yet-nere-lighted stars she wote In her soft hand a bleeding Heart she bore And round her lay Millions of broken more Then a wing'd Crier thrice aloud did call Let Fame proclaim this one great Prise for all By her a Lady that might be call'd fair And justly but that Amoret was there VVas Pris'ner led th'unvalewed Robe she wore Made infinite Lay Lovers to adore VVho vainly tempt her Rescâ—e â—adly bold Chained in sixteen thousand links of gold Chrysetta thus Loaden with treasures Slave Did strow the pass with Pearls and her way pave But loe the glorious Cause of all this high True heav'nly state Brave Philamore draws nigh VVho not himself more seems himself to be And with a sacred Exâ—asie doth see Fixt and unmov'd on 's Pillars he doth stay And Joy transforms him his own Statua Nor hath he pow'r to breath or strength to greet The gentle Offers of his Amoret VVho now amaz'd at 's noble Breast doth knock And with a Kiss his gen'rous heart unlock VVhilst she and the whole pomp doth enter there VVhence Her not Time nor Fate shall ever tear But whether am I hurld ho Back Awake From thy glad Trance to thine old Sorrow take Thus after view of all the Indies store The Slave returns unto his Chain and Oar Thus Poets who all Night in blest Heav'ns dwell Are call'd next morn to their true living Hell So I unthrifty to my self untrue Rise cloath'd with real wants 'cause wanting you And what substantial Riches I possesse I must to these unvalued Dreams confesse But all our Clowds shall be oreblown when thee In our Horizon bright once more we see VVhen thy dear presence shall our Souls new dress And spring an universal cheerfulnesse VVhen we shall be orewhelm'd in Joy like they That change their Night for a vast half-years day Then shall the wretched Few that do repine See and recant their Blasphemies in VVine Then shall they grieve that thought I 've sung to free High and aloud of thy true worth and Thee And their fowl Heresies and Lips submit To th' all-forgiving Breath of Amoret And me alone their angers Object call That from my height so miserably did fall And crie out my Invention thin and poor VVho have said nought since I could say no more Advice to my best Brother Coll Francis Lovelace FRank wil't live unhandsomely trust not too far Thy self to waving Seas for what thy star Calculated by sure event must be Look in the Glassy-epithire and see Yet settle here your rest and take your state And in calm Halcyon's nest ev'n build your Faâ—e Prethee lye down securely Frank and keep VVith as much no noyse the inconstant Deep As its Inhabitants nay stedfast stand As if discover'd were a New-found-land Fit for Plantation here dream dream still Lull'd in Dione's cradle dream untill Horrâ—â—r awake your sense and you now find Your self a bubled pastime for the VVind And in loose Thetis blankets torn and tost Frank to undo thy self why art at cost Nor be too confident fix'd on the shore For even that too borrows from the store Of her rich Neighbour since now wisest know And this to Galileo's jâ—dgement ow The palsie Earth it self is every jot As frail inconstant waveing as that blot VVe lay upon the Deep That sometimes lies Chang'd you would think with 's bâ—â—oms properties But this eternal 〈…〉 wheel Of giddy earth ne'â— whiâ—ling leaves to reel Till all things aâ—e inverâ—ed till they are Tuâ—n'd â—o that 〈…〉 state they were VVho loves the golden mean doth safely want A cobwebb'd Cot and wrongs entail'd npon't He â—ichly needs a Pallace for to breed Vipers and Moths that on their feeder feed The toy that we too trâ—e a Mistress call VVhose Looking-glass and feather weighs up all And Cloaths which Lâ—rks 〈◊〉 play with in the Sun That mock him in the Night when 's 〈…〉 To 〈…〉 That envy shouldâ— not reach it with her eye Nay with a thought come 〈◊〉 it would 〈◊〉 thou know How such a Structure should be raisd build low The bluâ—â—â—ing winds invisible rough stroak More often shakes the â—â—ubborn'st prop'rest Oak And in proud Turrets we behold withal â—â—is the Imperial top declines to fall Nor does Heav'ns lightning strike the humble Vales But high aspiring Mounts batters and 〈◊〉 A breast of proof deâ—ies all Shocks of Fate Fears in the best hopes in the worser state Heaven forbid that as of old Time ever â—lourish'd in Spring so contrary now never That mighty breath which blew foul Winter hither Can eas'ly puffe it to a fairer weather VVhy dost despair then Franck Aeolus has A Zephyrus as well as Boreas 'T is a false Sequel Soloecisme 'gainst those Precepts by fortune giv'n us to suppose That cause it is now ill 't will ere be so Apollo doth not always bend his Bow But oft uncrowned of his Beams divine VVith his soft harp awakes the sleeping Nine Instrictest things magnanimous appear Greater in hope howere thy fate then fear Draw all your Sails in quickly though no storm Threaten your ruine with a sad alarm For tell me how they differ tell me pray A cloudy tempest and a too fair day An Anniversary On the Hymeneals of my noble Kinsman Tho. Stanley Esquire 1 THe day is curl'd about agen To view the splendor she was in When first with hallow'd hands The holy man knit the mysterious bands When you two your contracted Souls did move Like Cherubimâ— above And did make Love As your un-understanding issue now In a glad sigh a smile a â—ear a Vow 2. Tell me O self-reviving Sun In thy Perigrination Hast thou beheld a pair Twist their soft beams like these in their chast air As from bright numberlesse imbracing rayes Are sprung th' industrious dayes So when they gaze And change their fertile Eyes with the new morn A beauteous Offspring is shot forth not born 3. Be witness then all-seeing Sun Old Spy thou that thy race haâ—â— run In full five thousand Rings To thee were ever puâ—er Offerings Sent on the Wings of Faith and thou