by the Makers will from pulling free IX Prince of the orchard faire as dawning morne Fenc'd with the law and ripe as soone as borne That apple grew which this Soule did Till the then climing serpent that now creeps For that offence for which all mankinde weepes Tooke it and t' her whom the first man did wive Whom and her race only forbiddings drive He gave it she t' her husband both did eate So perished the eaters and the meate And wee for treason taints the blood thence die and sweat X. Man all at once was there by woman slaine And one by one we' are here slaine o'er againe By them The mother poisoned the well-head The daughters here corrupts us No smalnesse scapes no greatnesse breake their nets She thrust us out and by them we are led Astray from turning to whence we are fled Were prisoners Judges t' would seeme rigorous Shee sinn'd we here part of our paine is thus To love them whose fault to this painfull love yoak'd us XI So fast in us doth this corruption grow That now wee dare aske why wee should be so Would God disputes the curious Rebell make A law and would not have it kept Or can His creatures will crosse his Of every man For one will God and be just vengeance take Who sinn'd t' was not forbidden to the snake Nor her who was not then made nor i' st writ That Adam cropt or knew the apple yet The worme and she and he and wee endure for it XII But snatch mee heavenly Spirit from this vaine Reckoning their vanities lesse is their gaine Then hazard still to meditate on ill Though with good minde their reasons like those toyes Of glassie bubles with the gamesome boyes Stretch to so nice a thinnes through a quill That they themselves breake doe themselves spill Arguing is heretiques game and Exercise As wrastlers perfect them Not liberties Of speech but silence hands not tongues end heresies XIII Just in that instant when the serpents gripe Broke the slight veines and tender conduit-pipe Through which this soule from the trees root did draw Life and growth to this apple fled away This loose soule old one and another day As lightning which one scarce dares say he saw 'T is so soone gone and better proofe the law Of sense then faith requires swiftly she flew To a darke and foggie Plot Her her fates threw There through th'earth-pores and in a Plant hous'd her a new XIV The plant thus abled to it selfe did force A place where no place was by natures course As aire from water water fleets away From thicker bodies by this root thronged so His spungie confines gave him place to grow Just as in our streets when the people stay To see the Prince and so fill'd the way That weesels scarce could passe when she comes nere They throng and cleave up and a passage cleare As if for that time their round bodies flatned were XV. His right arme he thrust out towards the East West-ward his left th' ends did themselves digest Into ten lesser strings these fingers were And as a slumberer stretching on his bed This way he this and that way scattered His other legge which feet with toes upbeare Grew on his middle parts the first day haire To show that in loves businesse hee should still A dealer bee and be us'd well or ill His apples kinde his leaves force of conception kill XVI A mouth but dumbe he hath blinde eyes deafe eares And to his shoulders dangle subtile haires A young Colossus there hee stands upright And as that ground by him were conquered A leafie garland weares he on his head Enchas'd with little fruits so red and bright That for them you would call your Loves lips white So of a lone unhaunted place possest Did this soules second Inne built by the guest This living buried man this quiet mandrake rest XVII No lustfull woman came this plant to grieve But t' was because there was none yet but Eve And she with other purpose kill'd it quite Her sinne had now brought in infirmities And so her cradled child the moist red eyes Had never shut nor sleept since it saw light Poppie she knew she knew the mandrakes might And tore up both and so coold her childs blood Unvirtuous weeds might long unvex'd have stood But hee 's short liv'd that with his death can doe most good XVIII To an unfetterd soules quick nimble hast Are falling stars and hearts thoughts but slow pac'd Thinner then burnt aire flies this soule and she Whom foure new comming and foure parting Suns Had found and left the Mandrakes tenant runnes Thought lesse of change when her firme destiny Confin'd and enjayld her that seem'd so free Into a small blew shell the which a poore Warme bird orespread and sat still evermore Till her uncloath'd child kickt and pick'd it selfe a dore XIX Outcrept a sparrow this soules moving Inne On whose raw armes stiffe feathers now begin As childrens teeth through gummes to breake with paine His flesh is jelly yet and his bones threds All downy a new mantle overspreads A mouth he opes which would as much containe As his late house and the first houre speaks plaine And chirps alowd for meat Meat fit for men His father steales for him and so feeds then One that within a moneth will beate him from his hen XX In this worlds youth wise nature did make hast Things ripened sooner and did longer last Already this hot cocke in bush and tree In field and tent oreflutters his next hen He asks her not who did so tast nor when Nor if his sister or his neece shee be Nor doth she pule for his inconstancie If in her sight he change nor doth refuse The next that calls both liberty doe use Where store is of both kindes both kindes may freely chuse XXI Men till they tooke laws which made freedome lesse Their daughters and their sisters did ingresse Till now unlawfull therefore ill t' was not So jolly that it can move this soule Is The body so free of his kindnesses That selfe preserving it hath now forgot And slackneth so the soules and bodies knot Which tēperance streightens freely on his she friends He blood and spirit pith and marrow spends Ill steward of himself himselfe in three yeares ends XXII Else might he long have liv'd man did not know Of gummie blood which doth in holly grow How to make bird-lime nor how to deceive With faind calls his nets or enwrapping snare The free inhabitants of the Plyant aire Man to beget and woman to conceive Askt not of rootes nor of cock-sparrowes leave Yet chuseth hee though none of these he feares Pleasantly three then streightned twenty yeares To live and to encrease himselfe outweares XXIII This cole with overblowing quench'd and dead The Soule from her too active organs fled T' a brooke a female fishes sandie Roe With the males jelly newly lev'ned was For they intertouched as they did passe
immortall mother which doth lye Still buried in her bed yet will not dye Takes this advantage to sleepe out day-light And watch thy entries and returnes all night And when she takes thy hand and would seeme kind Doth search what rings and armelets she can finde And kissing notes the colour of thy face And fearing least thou' art swolne doth thee embrace To trie if thou long doth name strange meates And notes thy palenesse blushing sighs and sweats And politiquely will to thee confesse The sinnes of her owne youths ranke lustinesse Yet love these Sorceries did remove and move Thee to gull thine owne mother for my love Thy little brethren which like Faiery Sprights Oft skipt into our chamber those sweet nights And kist and ingled on thy fathers knee Were brib'd next day to tell what they did see The grim-eight-foot-high-iron-bound serving-man That oft names God in oathes and onely than He that to barre the first gate doth as wide As the great Rhodian Colossus stride Which if in hell no other paines there were Makes mee feare hell because he must be there Though by thy father he were hir'd to this Could never witnesse any touch or kisse But Oh too common ill I brought with mee That which betray'd mee to my enemie A loud perfume which at my entrance cryed Even at thy fathers nose so were wee spied When like a tyran King that in his bed Smelt gunpowder the pale wretch shivered Had it beene some bad smell he would have thought That his owne feet or breath that smell had wrought But as wee in our I le emprisoned Where cattell onely ' and diverse dogs are bred The pretious Vnicornes strange monsters call So thought he good strange that had none at all I taught my silkes their whistling to forbeare Even my opprest shoes dumbe and speechlesse were Onely thou bitter sweet whom I had laid Next mee mee traiterously hast betraid And unsuspected hast invisibly At once fled unto him and staid with mee Base excrement of earth which dost confound Sense from distinguishing the sicke from sound By thee the seely Amorous sucks his death By drawing in a leprous harlots breath By thee the greatest staine to mans estate Falls on us to be call'd effeminate Though you be much lov'd in the Princes hall There things that seeme exceed substantiall Gods when yee fum'd on altars were pleas'd well Because you'were burnt not that they lik'd your smell You' are loathsome all being taken simply alone Shall wee love ill things joyn'd and hate each one If you were good your good doth soone decay And you are rare that takes the good away All my perfumes I give most willingly To'embalme thy fathers corse What will hee die Elegie V. Here take my Picture though I bid farewell Thine in my heart where my soule dwels shall dwell 'T is like me now but I dead 't will be more When wee are shadowes both then 't was before When weather-beaten I come backe my hand Perhaps with rude oares torne or Sun beams tann'd My face and brest of hairecloth and my head With cares rash sodaine stormes being o'rspread My body'a sack of bones broken within And powders blew staines scatter'd on my skinne If rivall fooles taxe thee to'have lov'd a man So foule and course as Oh I may seeme than This shall say what I was and thou shalt say Doe his hurts reach mee doth my worth decay Or doe they reach his judging minde that hee Should now love lesse what hee did love to see That which in him was faire and delicate Was but the milke which in loves childish state Did nurse it who now is growne strong enough To feed on that which to disus'd tasts seemes tough Elegie VI. Sorrow who to this house scarce knew the way Is Oh heire of it our All is his prey This strange chance claimes strange wonder and to us ' Nothing can be so strange as to weepe thus 'T is well his life 's loud speaking workes deserve And give praise too our cold tongues could not serve 'T is well hee kept teares from our eyes before That to fit this deep ill we might have store Oh if a sweet briar climbe up by'a tree If to a paradise that transplanted bee Or fell'd and burnt for holy sacrifice Yet that must wither which by it did rise As wee for him dead though no familie Ere rigg'd a soule for heavens discoverie With whom more Venturers more boldly dare Venture their states with him in joy to share Wee lose what all friends lov'd him he gaines now But life by death which worst foes would allow If hee could have foes in whose practise grew All vertues whose names subtile Schoolmen knew What ease can hope that wee shall see'him beget When wee must die first and cannot dye yet His children are his pictures Oh they bee Pictures of him dead senselesse cold as he Here needs no marble Tombe since hee is gone He and about him his are turn'd to stone Elegie VII Oh let mee not serve so as those men serve Whom honours smoakes at once fatten and sterve Poorely enrich't with great mens words or lookes Nor so write my name in thy loving bookes As those Idolatrous flatterers which still Their Princes stiles which many Realmes fulfill Whence they no tribute have and where no sway Such services I offer as shall pay Themselves I hate dead names Oh then let mee Favorite in Ordinary or no favorite bee When my Soule was in her owne body sheath'd Nor yet by oathes betroth'd nor kisses breath'd Into my Purgatory faithlesse thee Thy heart seem'd waxe and steele thy constancie So carelesse flowers strow'd on the waters face The curled whirlepooles suck smack and embrace Yet drowne them so the tapers beamie eye Amorously twinkling beckens the giddie flie Yet burnes his wings and such the devill is Scarce visiting them who are intirely his When I behold a streame which from the spring Doth with doubtfull melodious murmuring Or in a speechlesse slumber calmely ride Her wedded channels bosome and then chide And bend her browes and swell if any bough Do but stoop downe or kisse her upmost brow Yet if her often gnawing kisses winne The traiterous banks to gape and let her in She rusheth violently and doth divorce Her from her native and her long-kept course And rores and braves it and in gallant scorne In flattering eddies promising retorne She flouts the channell who thenceforth is drie Then say I that is shee and this am I. Yet let not thy deepe bitternesse beget Carelesse despaire in mee for that will whet My minde to scorne and Oh love dull'd with paine Was ne'r so wise nor well arm'd as disdaine Then with new eyes I shall survay thee ' and spie Death in thy cheekes and darknesse in thine eye Though hope bred faith and love thus taught I shall As nations do from Rome from thy love fall My hate shall outgrow thine and utterly I will renounce thy dalliance and when
mixe againe And makes both one each this and that A single violet transplant The strength the colour and the size All which before was poore and scant Redoubles still and multiplies When love with one another so Interanimates two soules That abler soule which thence doth flow Defects of lonelinesse controules Wee then who are this new soule know Of what we are compos'd and made For th'Atomies of which we grow Are soules whom no change can invade But O alas so long so farre Our bodies why doe wee forbeare They are ours though not wee Wee are The intelligences they the spheares We owe them thankes because they thus Did us to us at first convay Yeelded their senses force to us Nor are drosse to us but allay On man heavens influence workes not so But that it first imprints the ayre For soule into the soule may flow Though it to body first repaire As our blood labours to beget Spirits as like soules as it can Because such fingers need to knit That subtile knot which makes us man So must pure lovers soules descend T'affections and to faculties Which sense may reach and apprehend Else a great Prince in prison lies To'our bodies turne wee then that so Weake men on love reveal'd may looke Loves mysteries in soules doe grow But yet the body is his booke And if some lover such as wee Have heard this dialogue of one Let him still marke us he shall see Small change when we' are to bodies gone Loves Deitie I Long to talke with some old lovers ghost Who dyed before the god of Love was borne I cannot thinke that hee who then lov'd most Sunke so low as to love one which did scorne But since this god produc'd a destinie And that vice-nature custome lets it be I must love her that loves not mee Sure they which made him god meant not so much Nor he in his young god head practis'd it But when an even flame two hearts did touch His office was indulgently to fit Actives to passives Correspondencie Only his subject was It cannot bee Love till I love her that loves mee But every moderne god will now extend His vast prerogative as far as Jove To rage to lust to 〈◊〉 to commend All is the purlewe of the God of Love Oh were wee wak'ned by this Tyrannie To ungod this child againe it could not beo I should love her who loves not mee Rebell and Atheist too why murmure I As though I felt the worst that love could doe Love may make me leave loving or might trie A deeper plague to make her love mee too Which since she loves before I 'am loth to see Falshood is worse then hate and that must bee If shee whom I love should love mee Loves diet TO what a combersome unwieldinesse And burdenous corpulence my love had growne But that I did to make it lesse And keepe it in proportion Give it a diet made it feed upon That which love worst endures discretion Above one sigh a day I'allow'd him not Of which my fortune and my faults had part And if sometimes by stealth he got A she sigh from my mistresse heart And thought to feast on that I let him see 'T was neither very sound nor meant to mee If he wroung from mee'a teare I brin'd it so With scorne or shame that him it nourish'd not If he suck'd hers I let him know 'T was not a teare which hee had got His drinke was counterfeit as was his meat For eyes which rowle towards all weepe not but sweat What ever he would dictate I writ that But burnt my letters When she writ to me And that that favour made him fat I said if any title bee Convey'd by this Ah what doth it availe To be the fortieth name in an entaile Thus I redeem'd my buzard love to flye At what and when and how and where I chuse Now negligent of sports I lye And now as other Fawkners use I spring a mistresse sweare write sigh and weepe And the game kill'd or lost goe talke and sleepe The Will BEfore I sigh my last gaspe let me breath Great love some Legacies Here I bequeath Mine eyes to Argus if mine eyes can see If they be blinde then Love I give them thee My tongue to Fame to'Embassadours mine eares To women or the sea my teares Thou Love hast taught mee heretofore By making mee serve her who 'had twenty more That I should give to none but such as had too much before My constancie I to the planets give My truth to them who at the Court doe live Mine ingenuity and opennesse To Jesuites to Buffones my pensivenesse My silence to'any who abroad hath beene My mony to a Capuchin Thou Love taught'st me by appointing mee To love there where no love receiv'd can be Onely to give to such as have an incapacitie My faith I give to Roman Catholiques All my good works unto the Schismaticks Of Amsterdam my best civility And Courtship to an Universitie My modesty I give to souldiers bare My patience let gamesters share Thou Love taughtst mee by making mee Love her that holds my love disparity Onely to give to those that count my gifts indignity I give my reputation to those Which were my friends Mine industrie to foes To Schoolemen I bequeath my doubtfulnesse My sicknesse to Physitians or excesse To Nature all that I in Ryme have writ And to my company my wit Thou love by making mee adore Her who begot this love in mee before Taughtst me to make as though I gave when I did but restore To him for whom the passing bell next tolls I give my physick bookes my writen rowles Of Morall counsels I to Bedlam give My brazen medals unto them which live In want of bread to them which passe among All forrainers mine English tongue Thou Love by making mee love one Who thinkes her friendship a fit portion For yonger lovers dost my gifts thus disproportion Therefore I 'll give no more But I 'll undoe The world by dying because love dies too Then all your beauties will bee no more worth Then gold in Mines where none doth draw it forth And all your graces no more use shall have Then a Sun dyall in a grave Thou Love taughtst mee by making mee Love her who doth neglect both mee and thee To'invent and practise this one way to'annihilate all three The Funerall WHo ever comes to shroud me do not harme Nor question much That subtile wreath of haire which crowne my arme The mystery the signe you must not touch For'tis my outward Soule Viceroy to that which unto heaven being gone Will leave this to controule And keepe these limbes her Provinces from dissolution For if the sinewie thread my braine le ts fall Through every part Can tye those parts and make mee one of all Those haires which upward grew and strength and art Have from a better braine Can better do' it except she meant that I By this should
And one of those small bodies fitted so This soule inform'd and abled it to roe It selfe with finnie oares which she did fit Her scales seem'd yet of parchment and as yet Perchance a fish but by no name you could call it XXIV When goodly like a ship in her full trim A swan so white that you may unto him Compare all whitenesse but himselfe to none Glided along and as he glided watch'd And with his arched necke this poore fish catch'd It mov'd with state as if to looke upon Low things it scorn'd and yet before that one Could thinke he sought it he had swallowed cleare This and much such and unblam'd devour'd there All but who too swift too great or well arm'd were XXV Now swome a prison in a prison put And now this Soule in double walls was shut Till melted with the Swans digestive fire She left her house the fish and vapour'd forth Fate not affording bodies of more worth For her as yet bids her againe retire T'another fish to any new desire Made a new prey For he that can to none Resistance make nor complaint sure is gone Weaknesse invites but silence feasts oppression XXVI Pace with the native streame this fish doth keepe And journeyes with her towards the glassie deepe But oft retarded once with a hidden net Though with great windowes for when need first taught These tricks to catch food thē they were not wrought As now with curious greedinesse to let None scape but few and fit for use to get As in this trap a ravenous pike was tane Who though himselfe distrest would faine have slain This wretch So hardly are ill habits left again XXVII Here by her smallnesse shee two deaths orepast Once innocence scap'd and left the oppressor fast The net through-swome she keepes the liquid path And whether she leape up sometimes to breath And suck in aire or finde it underneath Or working parts like mills or limbecks hath To make the wether thinne and airelike faith Cares not but safe the Place she 's come unto Where fresh with salt waves meet and what to doe She knowes not but betweene both makes a boord or two XXVIII So farre from hiding her guests water is That she showes them in bigger quantities Then they are Thus doubtfull of her way For game and not for hunger a sea Pie Spied through this traiterous spectacle from high The seely fish where it disputing lay And t' end her doubts and her beares her away Exalted she'is but to the exalters good As are by great ones men which lowly stood It 's rais'd to be the Raisers instrument and food XXIX Is any kinde subject to rape like fish Ill unto man they neither doe nor wish Fishers they kill not nor with noise awake They doe not hunt nor strive to make a prey Of beasts nor their yong sonnes to beare away Foules they pursue not nor do undertake To spoile the nests industruous birds do make Yet them all these unkinde kinds feed upon To kill them is an occupation And lawes make fasts lents for their destruction XXX A sudden stiffe land-winde in that selfe houre To sea-ward forc'd this bird that did devour The fish he cares not for with ease he flies Fat gluttonies best orator at last So long hee hath flowen and hath flowen so fast That leagues o'er-past at sea now tir'd hee lyes And with his prey that till then languisht dies The soules no longer foes two wayes did erre The fish I follow and keepe no calender Of the other he lives yet in some great officer XXXI Into an embrion fish our Soule is throwne And in due time throwne out againe and growne To such vastnesse as if unmanacled From Greece Morea were and that by some Earthquake unrooted loose Morea swome Or seas from Africks body had severed And torne the hopefull Promontories head This fish would seeme these and when all hopes faile A great ship overset or without saile Hulling might when this was a whelp be like this whale XXXII At every stroake his brazen finnes do take More circles in the broken sea they make Then cannons voices when the aire they teare His ribs are pillars and his high arch'd roofe Of barke that blunts best steele is thunder-proofe Swimme in him swallowed Dolphins without feare And feele no sides as if his vast wombe were Some Inland sea and ever as hee went Hee spouted rivers up as if he ment To joyne our seas with seas above the firmament XXXIII He hunts not fish but as an officer Stayes in his court at his owne net and there All suitors of all sorts themselves enthrall So on his backe lyes this whale wantoning And in his gulfe-like throat sucks every thing That passeth neare Fish chaseth fish and all Flyer and follower in this whirlepoole fall O might not states of more equality Consist and is it of necessity That thousand guiltlesse smals to make one great must die XXXIV Now drinkes he up seas and he eates up flocks He justles Ilands and he shakes firme rockes Now in a roomefull house this Soule doth float And like a Prince she sends her faculties To all her limbes distant as Provinces The Sunne hath twenty times both crab and goate Parched since first lanch'd forth this living boate 'T is greatest now and to destruction Nearest There 's no pause at perfection Greatnesse a period hath but hath no station XXXV Two little fishes whom hee never harm'd Nor fed on their kinde two not throughly arm'd With hope that they could kill him nor could doe Good to themselves by his death they did not eate His flesh nor suck those oyles which thence outstreat Conspir'd against him and it might undoe The plot of all that the plotters were two But that they fishes were and could not speake How shall a Tyran wise strong projects breake If wreches can on them the common anger wreake XXXVI The flaile-find Thresher and steel-beak'd Sword-fish Onely attempt to doe what all doe wish The Thresher backs him and to beate begins The sluggard Whale yeelds to oppression And t'hide himselfe from shame and danger downe Begins to sinke the Swordfish upward spins And gores him with his beake his staffe-like finnes So were the one his sword the other plyes That now a scoffe and prey this tyran dyes And his owne dole feeds with himselfe all companies XXXVII Who will revenge his death or who will call Those to account that thought and wrought his fall The heires of slaine kings wee see are often so Transported with the joy of what they get That they revenge and obsequies forget Nor will against such men the people goe Because h 'is now dead to whom they should show Love in that act Some kings by vice being growne So needy of subjects love that of their won They thinke they lose if love be to the dead Prince shown XXXVIII This Soule now free from prison and passion Hath yet a little indignation That so small hammers
not an artificiall day In this you'have made the Court the Antipodes And will'd your Delegate the vulgar Sunne To doe profane autumnall offices Whilst here to you wee sacrificers runne And whether Priests or Organs you wee'obey We sound your influence and your Dictates say Yet to that Deity which dwels in you Your vertuous Soule I now not sacrifice These are Petitions and not Hymnes they sue But that I may survay the edifice In all Religions as much care hath bin Of Temples frames and beauty ' as Rites within As all which goe to Rome doe not thereby Esteeme religions and hold fast the best But serve discourse and curiosity With that which doth religion but invest And shunne th'entangling laborinths of Schooles And make it wit to thinke the wiser fooles So in this pilgrimage I would behold You as you' are vertues temple not as shee What walls of tender christall her enfold What eyes hands bosome her pure Altars bee And after this survay oppose to all Bablers of Chappels you th'Escuriall Yet not as consecrate but merely'as faire On these I cast a lay and country eye Of past and future stories which are rare I finde you all record and prophecie Purge but the booke of Fate that it admit No sad nor guilty legends you are it If good and lovely were not one of both You were the transcript and originall The Elements the Parent and the Growth And every peece of you is both their All So'intire are all your deeds and you that you Must do the same things still you cannot two But these as nice thinne Schoole divinity Serves heresie to furder or represse Tast of Poëtique rage or flattery And need not where all hearts one truth professe Oft from new proofes and new phrase new doubts grow As strange attire aliens the men wee know Leaving then busie praise and all appeale To higher Courts senses decree is true The Mine the Magazine the Commonweale The story of beauty ' in Twicknam is and you Who hath seene one would both As who had bin In Paradise would seeke the Cherubin To Sr Edward Herbert at Iulyers MAn is a lumpe where all beasts kneaded bee Wisdome makes him an Arke where all agree The foole in whom these beasts do live at jarre Is sport to others and a Theater Nor scapes hee so but is himselfe their prey All which was man in him is eate away And now his beasts on one another feed Yet couple'in anger and new monsters breed How happy'is hee which hath due place assign'd To'his beasts and disaforested his minde Empail'd himselfe to keepe them out not in Can sow and dares trust corne where they have bin Can use his horse goate wolfe and every beast And is not Asse himselfe to all the rest Else man not onely is the heard of swine But he 's those devills too which did incline Them to a headlong rage and made them worse For man can adde weight to heavens heaviest curse As Soules they say by our first touch take in The poysonous tincture of Originall sinne So to the punishments which God doth fling Our apprehension contributes the sting To us as to his chickins he doth cast Hemlocke and wee as men his hemlocke taste We do infuse to what he meant for meat Corrosivenesse or intense cold or heat For God no such specifique poyson hath As kills we know not how his fiercest wrath Hath no antipathy but may be good At lest for physicke if not for our food Thus man that might be'his pleasure is his rod And is his devill that might be his God Since then our businesse is to rectifie Nature to what she was wee'are led awry By them who man to us in little show Greater then due no forme we can bestow On him for Man into himselfe can draw All All his faith can swallow ' or reason chaw All that is fill'd and all that which doth fill All the round world to man is but a pill In all it workes not but it is in all Poysonous or purgative or cordiall For knowledge kindles Calentures in some And is to others jcy Opium As brave as true is that profession than Which you doe use to make that you know man This makes it credible you have dwelt upon All worthy bookes and now are such an one Actions are authors and of those in you Your friends finde every day a mart of new To the Countesse of Bedford T' Have written then when you writ seem'd to mee Worst of spirituall vices Simony And not t' have written then seemes little lesse Then worst of civill vices thanklessenesse In this my doubt I seem'd loath to confesse In that I seem'd to shunne beholdingnesse But 't is not soe nothing as I am may Pay all they have and yet have all to pay Such borrow in their payments and owe more By having leave to write so then before Yet since rich mines in barren grounds are showne May not I yeeld not gold but coale or stone Temples were not demolish'd though prophane Here Peter Ioves there Paul have Dian's Fane So whether my hymnes you admit or chuse In me you'have hallowed a Pagan Muse And denizend a stranger who mistaught By blamers of the times they mard hath sought Vertues in corners which now bravely doe Shine in the worlds best part or all in you I have beene told that vertue'in Courtiers hearts Suffers an Ostracisme and departs Profit ease fitnesse plenty bid it goe But whither only knowing you I know Your or you vertue two vast uses serves It ransomes one sex and one Court preserves There 's nothing but your worth which being true Is knowne to any other not to you And you can never know it To admit No knowledge of your worth it some of it But since to you your praises discords bee Stop others ills to meditate with mee Oh! to confesse wee know not what we sould Is halfe excuse wee know not what we would Lightnesse depresseth us emptinesse fills We sweat and faint yet still goe downe the hills As new Philosophy arrests the Sunne And bids the passive earth about it runne So wee have dull'd our minde it hath no ends Onely the bodie 's busie and pretends As dead low earth ecclipses and controules The quick high Moone so doth the body Soules In none but us are such mixt engines found As hands of double office For the ground We till with them and them to heav'n wee raise Who prayer-lesse labours or without this prayes Doth but one halfe that 's none He which said Plough And looke not back to looke up doth allow Good sced degenerates and oft obeyes The soyles disease and into cockle strayes Let the minds thoughts be but transplanted so Into the body ' and bastardly they grow What hate could hurt our bodies like our love Wee but no forraigne tyrans could remove These not ingrav'd but inborne dignities Caskets of soules Temples and Palaces For bodies shall from death redeemed bee Soules but
preserv'd not naturally free As men to'our prisons new soules to us are sent Which learne it there and come in innocent First seeds of every creature are in us What ere the world hath bad or pretious Mans body can produce hence hath it beene That stones wormes frogges and snakes in man are seene But who ere saw though nature can worke soe That pearle or gold or corne in man did grow We'have added to the world Virginia ' and sent Two new starres lately to the firmament Why grudge wee us not heaven the dignity T' increase with ours those faire soules company But I must end this letter though it doe Stand on two truths neither is true to you Vertue hath some perversenesse For she will Neither beleeve her good nor others ill Even in your vertues best paradise Vertue hath some but wise degrees of vice Too many vertues or too much of one Begets in you unjust suspition And ignorance of vice makes vertue lesse Quenching compassion of our wrechednesse But these are riddles Some aspersion Of vice becomes well some complexion Statesmen purge vice with vice and may corrode The bad with bad a spider with a toad For so ill thralls not them but they tame ill And make her do much good against her will But in your Commonwealth or world in you Vice hath no office or good worke to doe Take then no vitious purge but be content With cordiall vertue your knowne nourishment To the Countesse of Bedford On New-yeares day THis twilight of two yeares not past nor next Some embleme is of mee or I of this Who Meteor-like of stuffe and forme perplext Whose what and where in disputation is If I should call mee any thing should misse I summe the yeares and mee and finde mee not Debtor to th' old nor Creditor to th' new That cannot say My thankes I have forgot Nor trust I this with hopes and yet scarce true This bravery is since these time shew'd mee you In recompence I would show future times What you were and teach them to'urge towards such Verse embalmes vertue ' and Tombs or Thrones of rimes Preserve fraile transitory fame as much As spice doth bodies from corrupt aires touch Mine are short liv'd the tincture of your name Creates in them but dissipates as fast New spirit for strong agents with the same Force that doth warme and cherish us doe wast Kept hot with strong extracts no bodies last So my verse built of your just praise might want Reason and likelihood the firmest Base And made of miracle now faith is scant Will vanish soone and so possesse no place And you and it too much grace might disgrace When all as truth commands assent confesse All truth of you yet they will doubt how I One corne of one low anthills dust and lesse Should name know or expresse a thing so high And not an inch measure infinity I cannot tell them nor my selfe nor you But leave lest truth b'endanger'd by my praise And turne to God who knowes I thinke this true And useth oft when such a heart mis-sayes To make it good for such a prayer prayes Hee will best teach you how you should lay out His stock of beauty learning favour blood He will perplex security with doubt And cleare those doubts hide from you ' and shew you good And so increase your appetite and food Hee will teach you that good and bad have not One latitude in cloysters and in Court Indifferent there the greatest space hath got Some pitty'is not good there some vaine disport On this side sinne with that place may comport Yet he as hee bounds seas will fixe your houres With pleasure and delight may not ingresse And though what none else lost be truliest yours Hee will make you what you did not possesse By using others not vice but weakenesse He will make you speake truths and credibly And make you doubt that others doe not so Hee will provide you keyes and locks to spie And scape spies to good ends and hee will show What you may not acknowledge what not know For your owne conscience he gives innocence But for your fame a discreet warinesse And though to scape then to revenge offence Be better he showes both and to represse Ioy when your state swells sadnesse when 't is lesse From need of teares he will defend your soule Or make a rebaptizing of one teare Hee cannot that 's he will not dis-inroule Your name and when with active joy we heare This private Ghospell then 't is our new yeare To the Countesse of Huntingdon MADAME MAn to Gods image Eve to mans was made Nor finde wee that God breath'd a soule in her Canons will not Church functions you invade Nor lawes to civill office you preferre Who vagrant transitory Comets sees Wonders because they' are rare But a new starre Whose motion with the firmament agrees Is miracle for there no new things are In woman so perchance milde innocence A seldome comet is but active good A miracle which reason scapes and sense For Art and Nature this in them withstood As such a starre which Magi led to view The manger-cradled infant God below By vertues beames by fame deriv'd from you May apt soules and the worst may vertue know If the worlds age and death be argued well By the Sunnes fall which now towards earth doth bend Then we might feare that vertue since she fell So low as woman should be neare her end But she 's not stoop'd but rais'd exil'd by men She fled to heaven that 's heavenly things that 's you She was in all men thinly scatter'd then But now amass'd contracted in a few She guilded us But you are gold and Shee Us she inform'd but transubstantiates you Soft dispositions which ductile bee Elixarlike she makes not cleane but new Though you a wifes and mothers name retaine 'T is not as woman for all are not soe But vertue having made you vertue ' is faine T' adhere in these names her and you to show Else being alike pure wee should neither see As water being into ayre rarify'd Neither appeare till in one cloud they bee So for our sakes you do low names abide Taught by great constellations which being fram'd Of the most starres take low names Crab and Bull When single planets by the Gods are nam'd You covet not great names of great things full So you as woman one doth comprehend And in the vaile of kindred others see To some ye are reveal'd as in a friend And as a vertuous Prince farre off to mee To whom because from you all vertues flow And 't is not none to dare contemplate you I which to you as your true subject owe Some tribute for that so these lines are due If you can thinke these flatteries they are For then your judgement is below my praise If they were so oft flatteries worke as farre As Counsels and as farre th'endeavour raise So my ill reaching you might there
on perfection and a womans name Daughters of London you which bee Our Golden Mines and furnish'd Treasurie You which are Angels yet still bring with you Thousands of Angels on your mariage daies Help with your presence and devise to praise These rites which also unto you grow due Conceitedly dresse her and be assign'd By you fit place for every flower and jewell Make her for love fit fewell As gay as Flora and as rich as Inde So may shee faire and rich in nothing lame To day put on perfection and a womans name And you frolique Patricians Some of these Senators wealths deep oceans Ye painted courtiers barrels of others wits Yee country men who but your beasts love none Yee of those fellowships whereof hee 's one Of study and play made strange Hermaphrodits Here shine This Bridegroom to the Temple bring Loe in yon path which store of straw'd flowers graceth The sober virgin paceth Except my sight faile 't is no other thing Weep not nor blush here is no griefe nor shame To day put on perfection and a womans name Thy two-leav'd gates faire Temple unfold And these two in thy sacred bosome hold Till mystically joyn'd but one they bee Then may thy leane and hunger-starved wombe Long time expect their bodies and their tombe Long after their owne parents fatten thee All elder claimes and all cold barrennesse All yeelding to new loves bee far for ever Which might these two dissever Alwaies all th' other may each one possesse For the best Bride best worthy of praise and fame To day puts on perfection and a womans name Winter dayes bring much delight Not for themselves but for they soon bring night Other sweets wait thee then these diverse meats Other disports then dancing jollities Other love tricks then glancing with the eyes But that the Sun still in our halfe Spheare sweates Hee flies in winter but he now stands still Yet shadowes turne Noone point he hath attain'd His steeds will bee restrain'd But gallop lively downe the Westerne hill Thou shalt when he hath come the worlds half frame To night but on perfection and a womans name The amorous evening starre is rose Why then should not our amorous starre inclose Her selfe in her wish'd bed Release your strings Musicians and dancers take some truce With these your pleasing labours for great use As much wearinesse as perfection brings You and not only you but all toyl'd beasts Rest duly at night all their toyles are dispensed But in their beds commenced Are other labours and more dainty feasts She goes amaid who least she turne the same To night puts on perfection and a womans name Thy virgins girdle now untie And in thy nuptiall bed loves alter lye A pleasing sacrifice now dispossesse Thee of these chaines and robes which were put on T' adorne the day not thee for thou alone Like vertue ' and truth art best in nakednesse This bed is onely to virginitie A grave but to a better state a cradle Till now thou wast but able To be what now thou art then that by thee No more be said I may bee but I am To night put on perfection and a womans name Even like a faithfull man content That this life for a better should be spent So shee a mothers rich stile doth preferre And at the Bridegroomes wish'd approach doth lye Like an appointed lambe when tenderly The priest comes on his knees t'embowell her Now sleep or watch with more joy and O light Of heaven to morrow rise thou hot and early This Sun will love so dearely Her rest that long long we shall want her sight Wonders are wrought for shee which had no maime To night puts on perfection and a womans name To the Countesse of Bedford MADAME I Have learn'd by those lawes wherein I am a little conversant that hee which bestowes any cost upon the dead obliges him which is dead but not the heire I do not therefore send this paper to your Ladyship that you should thanke mee for it or thinke that I thanke you in it your favours and benefits to mee are so much above my merits that they are even above my gratitude if that were to be judged by words which must expresse it But Madame since your noble brothers fortune being yours the evidences also concerning it are yours so his vertue being yours the evidences concerning it belong also to you of which by your acceptance this may be one peece in which quality I humbly present it and as a testimony how intirely your familie possesseth Your Ladiships most humble and thankfull servant JOHN DONNE Obsequies to the Lord Harringtons brother To the Countesse of Bedford FAire soule which wast not onely as all soules bee Then when thou wast infused harmony But did'st continue so and now dost beare A part in Gods great organ this whole Spheare If looking up to God or downe to us Thou finde that any way is pervious Twixt heav'n and earth and that mans actions doe Come to your knowledge and affections too See and with joy mee to that good degree Of goodnesse growne that I can studie thee And by these meditations refin'd Can unapparell and enlarge my minde And so can make by this soft extasie This place a map of heav'n my selfe of thee Thou seest mee here at midnight now all rest Times dead-low water when all mindes devest To morrows businesse when the labourers have Such rest in bed that their last Church-yard grave Subject to change will scarce be'a type of this Now when the clyent whose last hearing is To morrow sleeps when the condemned man Who when hee opes his eyes must shut them than Againe by death although sad watch hee keepe Doth practice dying by a little sleepe Thou at this midnight seest mee and as soone As that Sunne rises to mee midnight's noone All the world growes transparent and I see Through all both Church and State in seeing thee And I discerne by favour of this light My selfe the hardest object of the sight God is the glasse as thou when thou dost see Him who sees all seest all concerning thee So yet unglorified I comprehend All in these mirrors of thy wayes and end Though God be our true glass through which we see All since the beeing of all things is hee Yet are the trunkes which doe to us derive Things in proportion fit by perspective Deeds of good men for by their living here Vertues indeed remote seeme to be nere But where can I affirme or where arrest My thoughts on his deeds which shall I call best For fluid vertue cannot be look'd on Nor can endure a contemplation As bodies change and as I do not weare Those Spirits humors blood I did last yeare And as if on a streame I fixe mine eye That drop which I looked on is presently Pusht with more waters from my sight and gone So in this sea of vertues can no one Bee'insisted on vertues as rivers passe Yet still remaines
Constellations then arise New starres and old doe vanish from our eyes As though heav'n suffered earthquakes peace or war When new Towers rise and old demolish't are They have impal'd within a Zodiake The free-borne Sun and keepe twelve Signes awake To watch his steps the Goat and Crab controule And fright him backe who else to either Pole Did not these tropiques fetter him might runne For his course is not round nor can the Sunne Perfit a Circle or maintaine his way One inch direct but where he rose to day He comes no more but with a couzening line Steales by that point and so is Serpentine And seeming weary with his reeling thus He meanes to sleepe being now falne nearer us So of the Starres which boast that they doe runne In Circle still none ends where he begun All their proportion's lame it sinkes it swels For of Meridians and Parallels Man hath weav'd out a net and this net throwne Upon the Heavens and now they are his owne Loth to goe up the hill or labour thus To goe to heaven we make heaven come to us We spur we reine the starres and in their race They 're diversly content t' obey our peace But keepes the earth her round proportion still Doth not a Tenarus or higher hill Rise so high like a Rocke that one might thinke The floating Moone would shipwrack there sinke Seas are so deepe that Whales being strucke to day Perchance to morrow scarse at middle way Of their wish'd journies end the bottome die And men to sound depths so much line untie As one might justly thinke that there would rise At end thereof one of th'Antipodies If under all a vault infernall bee Which sure is spacious except that we Invent another torment that there must Millions into a straight hot roome be thrust Then solidnesse and roundnesse have no place Are these but warts and pockholes in the face Of th' earth Thinke so but yet confesse in this The worlds proportion disfigured is That those two legges whereon it doth rely Reward and punishment are bent awry And Oh it can no more be questioned That beauties best proportion is dead Since even griefe it selfe which now alone Is left us is without proportion Shee by whose lines proportion should bee Examin'd measure of all Symmetree Whom had that Ancient seen who thought soules madâ— Of Harmony he would at next have said That Harmony was shee and thence infer That soules were but Resultances from her And did from her into our bodies goe As to our eyes the formes from objects flow Shee who if those great Doctors truly said That the Arke to mans proportion was made Had been a type for that as that might be A type of her in this that contrary Both Elements and Passions liv'd at peace In her who caus'd all Civill war to cease Shee after whom what forme soe'r we see Is discord and rude incongruitie She she is dead she 's dead when thou know'st this Thou knowest how ugly a monster this world is And learn'st thus much by our Anatomie That here is nothing to enamour thee And that not only faults in inward parts Corruptions in our braines or in our hearts Poysoning the fountaines whence our actions spring Endanger us but that if every thing Be not done fitly'and in proportion To satisfie wise and good lookers on Since most men be such as most thinke they bee They 're lothsome too by this deformitie For good and well must in our actions meet Wicked is not much worse then indiscreet But beauties other second Element Colour and lustre now is as neere spent And had the world his just proportion Were it a ring still yet the stone is gone As a compassionate Turcoyse which doth tell By looking pale the wearer is not well As gold falls sicke being stung with Mercury All the worlds parts of such complexion bee When nature was most busie the first weeke Swadling the new borne earth God seem'd to like That she should sport her selfe sometimes and play To mingle and vary colours every day And then as though shee could not make enough Himselfe his various Rainbow did allow Sight is the noblest sense of any one Yet sight hath only colour to feed on And colour is decai'd summers robe growes Duskie and like an oft dyed garment showes Our blushing red which us'd in cheekes to spred Is inward sunke and only our soules are red Perchance the world might have recovered If she whom we lament had not beene dead But shee in whom all white and red and blew Beauties ingredients voluntary grew As in an unvext Paradise from whom Did all things verdure and their lustre come Whose composition was miraculous Being all colour all diaphanous For Ayre and Fire but thick grosse bodies were And liveliest stones but drowsie and pale to her She she is dead shee 's dead when thou know'st this Thou knowest howwan a Ghost this our world is And learn'st thus much by our Anatomie That it should more affright then pleasure thee And that since all faire colour then did sinke 'T is now but wicked vanitie to thinke To colour vicious deeds with good pretence Or with bought colors to illude mens sense Nor in ought more this worlds decay appeares Then that her influence the heav'n forbeares Or that the Elements doe not feele this The father or the mother barren is The cloudes conceive not raine or doe not powre In the due birth time downe the balmy showre Th' ayre doth not motherly sit on the earth To hatch her seasons and give all things birth Spring-times were common cradles but are tombes And false-conceptions fill the generall wombes Th' ayre showes such Meteors as none can see Not only what they meane but what they bee Earth such new wormes as would have troubled much Th'Aegyptian Mages to have made more such What Artist now dares boast that he can bring Heaven hither or constellate any thing So as the influence of those starres may bee Imprison'd in an Hearbe or Charme or Tree And doe by touch all which those stars could doe The art is lost and correspondence too For heaven gives little and the earth takes lesse And man least knowes their trade and purposes If this commerce twixt heaven and earth were not Embarr'd and all this traffique quite forgot She for whose losse we have lamented thus Would worke more fully and pow'rfully on us Since herbes and roots by dying lose not all But they yea ashes too are medicinall Death could not quench her vertue so but that It would be if not follow'd wondred at And all the world would be one dying swan To sing her funerall praise and vanish than But as some Serpents poyson hurteth not Except it be from the live Serpent shot So doth her vertue need her here to fit That unto us shee working more then it But shee in whom to such maturity Vertue was growne past growth that it must die She from whose
influence all impression came But by receivers impotencies lame Who though she could not transubstantiate All states to gold yet guilded every state So that some Princes have some temperance Some Counsellers some purpose to advance The common profit and some people have Some stay no more then Kings should give to crave Some women have some taciturnity Some nunneries some graines of chastitie She that did thus much and much more could doe But that our age was Iron and rustie too Shee she is dead she 's dead when thou knowst this Thou knowst how drie a Cinder this world is And learn'st thus much by our Anatomy That 't is in vaine to dew or mollifie It with thy teares or sweat or blood nothing Is worth our travaile griefe or perishing But those rich joyes which did possesse her heart Of which she 's now partaker and a part But as in cutting up a man that 's dead The body will not last out to have read On every part and therefore men direct Their speech to parts that are of most effect So the worlds carcasse would not last if I Were punctuall in this Anatomy Nor smels it well to hearers if one tell Them their disease who faine would think thy're well Here therefore be the end and blessed maid Of whom is meant what ever hath been said Or shall be spoken well by any tongue Whose name refines course lines and makes prose song Accept this tribute and his first yeares rent Who till his darke short tapers end be spent As oft as thy feast sees this widowed earth Will yearely celebrate thy second birth That is thy death for though the soule of man Be got when man is made 't is borne but than When man doth die our body 's as the wombe And as a Mid-wife death directs it home And you her creatures whom she workes upon And have your last and best concoction From her example and her vertue if you In reverence to her do thinke it due That no one should her praises thus rehearse As matter fit for Chronicle not verse Vouchsafe to call to minde that God did make A last and lasting'st peece a song He spake To Moses to deliver unto all That song because hee knew they would let fall The Law the Prophets and the History But keepe the song still in their memory Such an opinion in due measure made Me this great office boldly to invade Nor could incomprehensiblenesse deterre Mee from thus trying to emprison her Which when I saw that a strict grave could doe I saw not why verse might not do so too Verse hath a middle nature heaven keepes Soules The Grave keepes bodies Verse the Fame enroules A Funerall ELEGIE 'T Is lost to trust a Tombe with such a guest Or to confine her in a marble chest Alas what 's Marble Jeat or Porphyrie Priz'd with the Chrysolite of either eye Or with those Pearles and Rubies which she was Joyne the two Indies in one Tombe 't is glasse And so is all to her materials Though every inch were ten Escurials Yet she 's demolish'd can wee keepe her then In works of hands or of the wits of men Can these memorials ragges of paper give Life to that name by which name they must live Sickly alas short-liv'd aborted bee Those carcasse verses whose soule is not shee And can shee who no longer would be shee Being such a Tabernacle stoop to be In paper wrapt or when shee would not lie In such a house dwell in an Elegie But'tis no matter wee may well allow Verse to live so long as the world will now For her death wounded it The world containes Princes for armes and counsellors for braines Lawyers for tongues Divines for hearts and more The rich for stomackes and for backs the poore The officers for hands merchants for feet By which remote and distant Countries meet But those fine spirits which do tune and set This Organ are those peeces which beget Wonder and love and these were shee and shee Being spent the world must needs decrepit bee For since death will proceed to triumph still He can finde nothing after her to kill Except the world it selfe so great was shee Thus brave and confident may Nature bee Death cannot give her such another blow Because shee cannot such another show But must wee say she 's dead may 't not be said That as a sundred clocke is peecemeale laid Not to be lost but by the makers hand Repollish'd without errour then to stand Or as the Affrique Niger streame enwombs It selfe into the earth and after comes Having first made a naturall bridge to passe For many leagues farre greater then it was May 't not be said that her grave shall restore Her greater purer firmer then before Heaven may say this and joy in 't but can wee Who live and lacke her here this vantage see What is 't to us alas if there have beene An Angell made a Throne or Cherubin Wee lose by 't and as aged men are glad Being tastlesse growne to joy in joyes they had So now the sick starv'd world must feed upon This joy that we had her who now is gone Rejoyce then Nature and this World that you Fearing the last fires hastning to subdue Your force and vigour ere it were neere gone Wisely bestow'd and laid it all on one One whose cleare body was so pure and thinne Because it need disguise no thought within 'T was but a through-light scarfe her minde t'inroule Or exhalation breath'd out from her Soule One whom all men who durst no more admir'd And whom who ere had worke enough desir'd As when a Temple 's built Saints emulate To which of them it shall be consecrate But as when heaven lookes on us with new eyes Those new starres every Artist exercise VVhat place they should assigne to them they doubt Argue ' and agree not till those starres goe out So the world studied whose this peece should be Till shee can be no bodies else nor shee But like a Lampe of Balsamum desir'd Rather t' adorne then last she soone expir'd Cloath'd in her virgin white integritie For marriage though it doth not staine doth die To scape th'infirmities which wait upon VVoman she went away before sh'was one And the worlds busie noyse to overcome Tooke so much death as serv'd for opium For though she could not nor could chuse to dye She'ath yeelded to too long an extasie Hee which not knowing her said History Should come to reade the booke of destiny How faire and chast humble and high she'ad been Much promis'd much perform'd at not fifteene And measuring future things by things before Should turne the leafe to reade and reade no more VVould thinke that either destiny mistooke Or that some leaves were torne out of the booke But 't is not so Fate did but usher her To yeares of reasons use and then inferre Her destiny to her selfe which liberty She tooke but for thus much thus much
bee Division and thy happyest Harmonie Thinke thee laid on thy death-bed loose and slacke And thinke that but unbinding of a packe To take one precious thing thy soule from thence Thinke thy selfe patch'd with fevers violence Anger thine ague more by calling it Thy Physicke chide the slacknesse of the fit Thinke that thou hear'st thy knell and think no more But that as Bels cal'd thee to Church before So this to the Triumphant Church calls thee Thinke Satans Sergeants round about thee bee And thinke that but for Legacies they thrust Give one thy Pride to'another give thy Lust Give them those sinnes which they gave thee before And trust th' immaculate blood to wash thy score Thinke thy friends weeping round thinke that they Weepe but because they goe not yet thy way Thinke that they close thine eyes and thinke in this That they confesse much in the world amisse Who dare not trust a dead mans eye with that Which they from God and Angels â—â—er not Thinke that they shroud thee up think from thence They reinvest thee in white innocence Thinke that thy body rots and if so low Thy soule exalted so thy thoughts can goe Think thee a Prince who of themselves create Wormes which insensibly devoure their State Thinke that they bury thee and thinke that right Laies thee to sleepe but a Saint Lucies night Thinke these things cheerefully and if thou bee Drowsie or slacke remember then that shee Shee whose complexion was so even made That which of her ingredients should invade The other three no Feare no Art could guesse So far were all remov'd from more or lesse But as in Mithridate or just perfumes Where all good things being met no one presumes To governe or to triumph on the rest Only because all were no part was best And as though all doe know that quantities Are made of lines and lines from Points arise None can these lines or quantities unjoynt And say this is a line or this a point So though the Elements and Humors were In her one could not say this governes there Whose even constitution might have woon Any disease to venter on the Sunne Rather then her and make a spirit feare That hee too disuniting subject were To whose proportions if we would compare Cubes th' are unstable Circles Angular She who was such a chaine as Fate employes To bring mankinde all Fortunes it enjoyes So fast so even wrought as one would thinke No accident could threaten any linke Shee shee embrac'd a sicknesse gave it meat The purest blood and breath that e'r it eate And hath taught us that though a good man hath Title to heaven and plead it by his Faith And though he may pretend a conquest since Heaven was content to suffer violence Yea though hee plead a long possession too For they 're in heaven on earth who heavens workes do Though hee had right and power and place before Yet death must usher and unlocke the doore Thinke further on thy selfe my Soule and thinke How thou at first wast made but in a sinke Thinke that it argued some infirmitie That those two soules which then thou foundst in me Thou fedst upon and drewst into thee both My second soule of sense and first of growth Thinke but how poore thou wast how obnoxious Whom a small lumpe of flesh could poyson thus This curded milke this poore unlittered whelpe My body could beyond escape or helpe Infect thee with Originall sinne and thou Couldst neither then refuse nor leave it now Thinke that no stubborne sullen Anchorit Which fixt to a pillar or a grave doth sit Bedded and bath'd in all his ordures dwels So fowly as our Soules in their first built Cels. Thinke in how poore a prison thou didst lie After enabled but to suck and crie Thinke when 't was growne to most 't was a poore Inne A Province pack'd up in two yards of skinne And that usurp'd or threatned with a rage Of sicknesses or their true mother Age. But thinke that death hath now enfranchis'd thee Thou hast thy'expansion now and libertie Thinke that a rustie Peece discharg'd is flowne In peeces and the bullet is his owne And freely flies this to thy Soule allow Thinke thy shell broke thinke thy Soule hatch'd but now And think this slow-pac'd soule which late did cleave To'a body and went but by the bodies leave Twenty perchance or thirty mile a day Dispatches in a minute all the way Twixt heaven and earth she stayes not in the ayre To looke what Meteors there themselves prepare She carries no desire to know nor sense Whether th'ayres middle region be intense For th' Element of fire she doth not know Whether she past by such a place or no She baits not at the Moone nor cares to trie Whether in that new world men live and die Venus retards her not to'enquire how shee Can being one starre Hesper and Vesper bee Hee that charm'd Argus eyes sweet Mercury Workes not on her who now is growne all eye Who if she meet the body of the Sunne Goes through not staying till his course be runne Who findes in Mars his Campe no corps of Guard Nor is by Iove nor by his father bard Bee ere she can consider how she went At once is at and through the Firmament And as these starres were but so many beads Strung on one string speed undistinguish'd leads Her through those Spheares as through the beads a string Whose quick successioÌ„ makes it still one thing As doth the pith which lest our bodies slacke Strings fast the little bones of necke and backe So by the Soule doth death string Heaven and Earth For when our Soule enjoyes this her third birth Creation gave her one a second grace Heaven is as neare and present to her face As colours are and objects in a roome Where darknesse was before when Tapers come This must my Soule thy long-short Progresse bee To'advance these thoughts Remember then that she She whose faire body no such prison was But that a Soule might well be pleas'd to passe An age in her she whose rich beauty lent Mintage to other beauties for they went But for so much as they were like to her Shee in whose body if we dare preferre This low world to so high a marke as shee The Westerne treasure Easterne spicetie Europe and Afrique and the unknowne rest Were easily found or what in them was best And when w'have made this large discoverie Of all in her some one part then will bee Twenty such parts whose plenty and riches is Enough to make twenty such worlds as this Shee whom had they knowne who did first betroth The Tutelar Angels and assigned one both To Nations Cities and to Companies To Functions Offices and dignities And to each severall man to him and him They would have given her one for every limbe She of whose soule if wee may say 't was gold Her body was th'Electrum and did hold Many degrees of that
know my pain As prisoners then are manacled when they' are condem'nd to die What ere shee meant by'it bury it by me For since I am Loves martyr it might breed idolatrie If into others hands these reliques came As 't was humility To afford to it all that a Soule can doe So 't is some bravery That since you would have none of mee I bury some of you The Blossome LIttle think'st thou poore flower Whom I have watch'd sixe or seaven dayes And seene thy birth and seene what every houre Gave to thy growth thee to this height to raise And now dost laugh and triumph on this bough Little think'st thou That it will freeze anon and that I shall To morrow finde thee falne or not at all Little think'st thou poore heart That labours yet to nestle thee And think'st by hovering here to get a part In a forbidden or forbidding tree And hop'st her stiffenesse by long siege to bow Little think'st thou That thou to morrow ere that Sunne doth wake Must with this Sunne and mee a journey take But thou which lov'st to bee Subtile to plague thy selfe wilt say Alas if you must goe what 's that to mee Here lyes my businesse and here I will stay You goe to friends whose love and meanes present Various content To your eyes eares and tast and every part If then your body goe what need your heart Well then stay here but know When thou hast stayd and done thy most A naked thinking heart that makes no show Is to a woman but a kinde of Ghost How shall shee know my heart or having none Know thee for one Practise may make her know some other part But take my word shee doth not know a Heart Meet mee at London then Twenty dayes hence and thou shalt see Mee fresher and more fat by being with men Then if I had staid still with her and thee For Gods sake if you can be you so too I will give you There to another friend whom wee shall finde As glad to have my body as my minde The Primrose VPon this Primrose hill Where it Heav'n would distill A shoure of raine each severall drop might goe To his owne primrose and grow Manna so And where their forme and their infinitie Make a terrestriall Galaxie As the small starres doe in the skie I walke to finde a true Love and I see That 't is not a mere woman that is shee But must or more or lesse then woman bee Yet know I not which flower I wish a sixe or foure For should my true-Love lesse then woman bee She were scarce any thing and then should shee Be more then woman shee would get above All thought of sexe and thinke to move My heart to study her and not to love Both these were monsters Since there must reside Falshood in woman I could more abide She were by art then Nature falsify'd Live Primrose then and thrive With thy true number five And women whom this flower doth represent With this mysterious number be content Ten is the farthest number if halfe ten Belongs unto each woman then Each woman may take halfe us men Or if this will not serve their turne Since all Numbers are odde or even and they fall First into this five women may take us all The Relique WHen my grave is broke up againe Some second ghest to entertaine For graves have learn'd that woman-head To be to more then one a Bed And he that digs it spies A bracelet of bright haire about the bone Will he not let'us alone And thinke that there a loving couple lies Who thought that this device might be some way To make their soules at the last busie day Meet at this grave and make a little stay If this fall in a time or land Where mis-devotion doth command Then he that digges us up will bring Us to the Bishop and the King To make us Reliques then Thou shalt be a Mary Magdalen and I A something else thereby All women shall adore us and some men And since at such time miracles are sought I would have that age by this paper taught What miracles wee harmelesse lovers wrought First we lov'd well and faithfully Yet knew not what wee lov'd nor why Difference of sex no more wee new Then our Guardian Angells doe Comming and going wee Perchance might kisse but not between those meales Our hands ne'r toucht the seales Which nature injur'd by late law sets free These miracles wee did but now alas All measure and all language I should passe Should I tell what a miracle shee was The Dampe WHen I am dead and Doctors know not why And my friends curiositie Will have me cut up to survay each part When they shall finde your Picture in my heart You thinke a sodaine dampe of love Will through all their senses move And worke on them as mee and so preferre Your murder to the name of Massacre Poore victories But if you dare be brave And pleasure in your conquest have First kill th'enormous Gyant your Disdaine And let th'enchantresse Honor next be slaine And like a Goth and Vandall rize Deface Records and Histories Of your owne arts and triumphs over men And without such advantage kill me then For I could muster up as well as you My Gyants and my Witches too Which are vast Constancy and Secretnesse But these I neyther looke for nor professe Kill mee as Woman let mee die As a meere man doe you but try Your passive valor and you shall finde than In that you'have odds enough of any man The Dissolution SHee'is dead And all which die To their first Elements resolve And wee were mutuall Elements to us And made of one another My body then doth hers involve And those things whereof I consist hereby In me abundant grow and burdenous And nourish not but smother My fire of Passion sighes of ayre Water of teares and earthly sad despaire Which my materialls bee But ne'r worne out by loves securitie Shee to my losse doth by her death repaire And I might live long wretched so But that my fire doth with my fuell grow Now as those Active Kings Whose foraine conquest treasure brings Receive more and spend more and soonest breake This which I am amaz'd that I can speake This death hath with my store My use encreas'd And so my soule more earnestly releas'd Will outstrip hers As bullets flowen before A latter bullet may o'rtake the pouder being more A Ieat King sent THou art not so black as my heart Nor halfe so brittle as her heart thou art What would'st thou say shall both our properties by thee bee spoke Nothing more endlesse nothing sooner broke Marriage rings are not of this stuffe Oh why should ought lesse precious or lesse tough Figure our loves Except in thy name thou have bid it say I 'am cheap nought but fashion fling me'away Yet stay with mee since thou art come Circle this fingers top which did'st her thombe Be