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A68450
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A morall poem, intituled the Legend of Cupid and Psyche. Or Cupid and his mistris As it was lately presented to the Prince Elector. Written by Shackerley Marmion, Gent.; Legend of Cupid and Psiche
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Marmion, Shackerley, 1603-1639.
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1638
(1638)
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STC 17444A; ESTC S112188
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40,406
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100
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he may love a blith and bonny Lasse What you forget that he is well in yeeres And t is a comfort to you that he beares His age so well therefore you must not pry Into his actions so narrowly For with what Justice can you disapprove That in your sonne which in your selfe you love Is' t fit that seeds of love by you be sowne In others hearts and banisht from your owne You have an interest in all that 's his Both prais'd for good both blam'd for what 's amisse Remember too you are his Mother deare Held wise and must give way thus they for feare Of Cupids Arrowes did him patronize But Venus scorning that her injuries VVere no more pittied her swift Doves did raigne And took her way towards the Sea againe The end of the first Booke The Second Booke THE FIRST SECTION PSyche this while wandred the world about With various errors to find Cupid out Hoping although no matrimoniall way Or Beauties force his anger might allay Yet Prayers and duty somewhat might abate And humble Service him propitiate She travell'd forth untill at length she found A pleasant plaine with a faire Temple crown'd Then to her selfe she said ah who can tell Whether or no my husband there doe dwell And with this thought she goes directly on Led with blind hope and with Devotion Then entred in she to the Altar bended And there perform'd her Orizons which ended Casting her eyes about she did espy A world of instruments for husbandry As Forkes Hookes Rakes Sickles Sithes Garlands and Sheares Corne for Sacrifice Those eares that were confused she did sever And those that scatter'd lay she put together Thinking she ought no worship to decline Of any thing that seem'd to be Divine Ceres farre off did Psyche over looke When this laborious taske she undertooke And as she is a Goddesse that does love Industrious people spake to her from above Alas poore Psyche Venus is thy foe And strives to find thee out with more a doe Then I my Proserpine the Earth the Sea And the hid confines of the Night and Day Have all beene ransackt she has sought thee forth Through both the Poles Mantions of the North Not the Riphean snow nor all the drougth That parches the vast desarts of the south Have stay'd her steps She has made Tethis sweepe To find thee out the bottome of the deepe And vowes that Heaven it selfe shall thee resigne Though Iove had fixt thee there his concubine She never rests for since she went to bed The Rosie Crowne is wither'd from her head Thou carelesse wretch Thus Venus all enrag'd Seekes for thy life whilst thou art heere ingag'd 'Bout my affaires and thinkst of nothing lesse Then thine owne safety and lost happinesse Psyche fell prostrate on her face before Faire Ceres throne and did her helpe implore Moystning the Earth with teares and with her haire Brushing the ground she sent up many a Prayer By thy fruit-scattering hand I thee entreate And the Sicilian Feilds that are the seat Of thy fertility and by the glad And happy ends the harvest ever had And by thy coach with winged Dragons drawne And by the darkesome hell that gan to dawne At the bright marriage of faire Proserpine And by the silent rites of Elusine Impart some pitty and vouchsafe to grant This small request to your poore supplyant I may lye hid among these sheaves of Corne Vntill great Venus fury be out-worne Or that my strength and faculties subdu'd By weary toyle a little be renew'd But as the worlds accustom'd when they see Any orewhelm'd with a deepe misery Afford small comfort to their wretched state But onely are in words compassionate So Ceres told her she did greatly grieve At her distresse but durst her not releive For Venus was a good and gratious Queene And she her favour highly did esteeme Nor would she succour a contrary side Being by love and kin to her ally'd Poore Psyche thus repuls'd soone as she saw Her hopes quite frustrate did her selfe withdraw And journied on unto a neighbouring wood Where likewise a rich Fane and Temple stood Of goodly structure and before the house Hung many gifts and garments pretious That by the name engrav'd and dedication Exprest without to whom they had relation Here Psyche enterd her low knees did bend And both her selfe and fortunes recommend To mighty Iuno and thus spake to her Thou wife and sister to the thunderer Whether thou dost in ancient Samos lye The place of thy first birth and nursery Or by the bankes of Inacus abide Or thy lou'd Carthage or round Heaven dost ride Vpon a Lyons backe that art i' th East Call'd Zigia and Lucina in the west Looke on my griefes extremity and deigne To ease me of ray labour and my paine Thus having prayed straight Iuno from on high Presents her selfe in all her Majesty And said Psyche I wish you had your ends And that my Daughter your selfe were friends For Venus I have ever held most deare In as high place as she my daughter were Nor can that which one Goddesse has begun By any other Deity b' undone Besides the Stigian lawes allow no leave That we anothers Servant should receive Nor can we by the league of friendship give Reliefe to one that is a fugitive Faire Psyche shipwrackt in her hopes againe And finding no wayes how she might obtaine Her winged husband cast the worst of all And thus her thoughts did into question call What meanes can be attempted or apply'd To this my strange calamity beside What is already us'd for though they wood The Gods themselves can render me no good Why then should I proceed and unawares Tender my foot unto so many snares VVhat darknesse can protect me what disguise Hide me from her inevitable eyes Some women from their crimes can courage gather Then why not I from misery and rather VVhat I cannot deferre nor long withstand Yeeld up my selfe a prisoner to her hand For timely modesty may mitigate That rage which absence does exasperate And to confirme this who knows whether he VVhom my soule longs for with his Mother be Venus now sicke of earthly businesse Commands her Coach be put in readinesse Whose subtile structure was all wrought upon With gold with purple and Vermilion Vulcan compos'd the fabrick 't was the same He gave his wife when he a woing came Then of those many hundred Doves that soare About her palace she selected foure Whose checkred necks to the small traces ty'd With nimble gyres they up to Heaven did glide A world of sparrows did by Venus fly And Nightingales that sung melodiously And other birds accompany'd her Coach With pleasant noise proclaiming her approach For neither hardy Eagle Hawke nor Kite Durst her sweet sounding family affright The clouds gave way and Heaven was open made Whilst Venus Ioves high Turrets did invade Then having silenc'd her obstreperous quire She boldly calls for Mercury