Selected quad for the lemma: friend_n
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A19481
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Poetical blossomes by A.C.
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Cowley, Abraham, 1618-1667.; Vaughan, Robert, engraver.
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1633
(1633)
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STC 5906; ESTC S108970
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17,550
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62
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sufferings His sadnesse cannot from PHILOCRATES Be hid who seekes all meanes his griefe to know Seeing all mirth PHILETVS doth displease And Passion still pursues his conquered Foe Hee therefore of his griefe did oft enquire But Love with covering wings had hid the fire But when his noble Friend perceived that hee Yeelds to vsurping Passion more and more Desirous to partake his mallady Hee watches him in hope to cure his sore By counsaile and recall the poysonous Dart When it alas was fixed in his heart When in the Woods places best fit for care Hee to himselfe did his past griefes recite Th' obsequious friend straight followes him and there Doth hide himselfe from sad PHILETVS sight Who thus exclaimes for a swolne hart would breake If it for vent of sorrow might not speake Oh! I am lost not in this desert Wood But in loues pathlesse Laborinth there I My health each ioy and pleasure counted good Haue lost and which is more my liberty And now am forc't to let him sacrifice My heart for rash beleeving of my eyes Long haue I stayed but yet haue no reliefe Long haue I lov'd yet haue no favour showne Because shee knowes not of my killing griefe And I have fear'd to make my sorrowes knowne For why alas if shee should once but dart At me disdaine 't would kill my subiect hart But how should shee ere I impart my Love Reward my ardent flame with like desire But when I speake if shee should angry prove Laugh at my flowing teares and scorne my fire Why hee who hath all sorrowes borne before Needeth not feare to be opprest with more PHILOCRATES no longer can forbeare But running to his lov'd Friend Oh sayd hee My deare PHILETVS be thy selfe and sweare To rule that Passion which now masters Thee And all thy faculties but if 't may not be Give to thy Love but eyes that it may see Amazement strikes him dumbe what shall he doe Should hee reveale his Love he feares 't would prove A hinderance which should hee deny to show It might perhaps his deare friends anger move These doubts like SCYLLA and CARIEDIS stand Whil'st CVPID a blind Pilot doth command At last resolv'd how shall I seeke sayd hee To excuse my selfe dearest PHILOCRATES That I from thee have hid this secrecie Yet censure not give me first leave to ease My case with words my griefe you should have known Ere this if that my heart had bin my owne I am all Love my heart was burnt with fire From two bright Sunnes which doe all light disclose First kindling in my brest the flame Desire But like the rare Arabian Bird there rose From my hearts ashes never quenched Love Which now this torment in my soule doth move Oh! let not then my Passion cause your hate Nor let my choise offend you or detayne Your ancient Friendship 't is alas too late To call my firme affection backe againe No Physicke can recure my weak'ned state The wound is growne too great too desperate But Counsell sayd his Friend a remedy Which never fayles the Patient may at least If not quite heale your mindes infirmity Asswage your torment and procure some rest But there is no Physitian can apply A medicine ere he know the Malady Then heare me sayd PHILETVS but why Stay I will not toyle thee with my history For to remember Sorrowes past away Is to renue an old Calamity Hee who acquainteth others with his moane Addes to his friends griefe but not cures his owne But sayd PHILOCRATES 't is best in woe To have a faithfull partner of their care That burthen may be vndergone by two Which is perhaps too great for one to beare I should mistrust your love to hide from me Your thoughts and taxe you of Inconstancie What shall hee doe Or with what language frame Excuse He must resolue not to deny But open his close thoughts and inward flame With that as prologue to his Tragedy He sight as if they 'd coole his torments ire When they alas did blow the raging fire When yeares first styl'd me Twenty I began To sport with the catching snares that Loue had set Like Birds that flutter 'bout the gyn till tane Or the poore Fly caught in Arachnes net Euen so I sported with her Beautyes light Till I at last grew blind with too much sight First it came stealing on me whilst I thought T' was easy to expulse it but as fire Though but a sparke soone into flames is brought So mine grew great and quickly mounted higher Which so haue scorcht my loue struck soule that I Still liue in torment though each minute dye Who is it sayd PHILOCRATES can moue With charming eyes such deepe affection I may perhaps assist you in your loue Two can effect more then your selfe alone My councell this thy error may reclayme Or my salt teares quench thy annoying flame Nay sayd PHILETVS oft my eyes doe flow Like Egypt couering Nilus nor yet can Asswage my heate which still doth greater grow As if my teares did but augment my flame Like to the waters of th' Dodonean spring That lights a torch the which is put therein But being you desire to know her she Is call'd with that his eyes let fall a shower As if they faine would drowne the memory Of his life keepers name CONSTANTIA more Griefe would not let him vtter Teares the best Expressers of true sorrow spoke the rest To which his noble friend did thus reply And was this all What ere your griefe would ease Though a farre greater taske beleeu 't for thee It should be soone done by PHILOCRATES Thinke all you wish perform'd but see the day Tyr'd with i'ts heate is hasting now away Home from the silent Woods night bids them goe But sad PHILETVS can no comfort find What in the day he feares of future woe At night in dreames like truth afright his mind Why doest thou vex him loue Had'st eyes I say Thou wouldst thy selfe haue lou'd CONSTANTIA PHILOCRATES pittying his dolefull mone And wounded with the Sorrowes of his friend Brings him to fayre CONSTANTIA where alone He might impart his love and eyther end His fruitlesse hopes cropt by her coy disdaine Or By her liking his wish't Ioyes attaine Fairest quoth he whom the bright Heavens doe cover Doe not these teares these speaking teares despise And dolorous sighes of a submissive Lover Thus strucke to the earth by your all dazeling Eyes And doe not you contemne that ardent flame Which from your selfe Your owne faire Beauty came Trust me I long have hid my love but now Am forc't to shew 't such is my inward smart And you alone sweet faire the meanes doe know To heale the wound of my consuming heart Then since it onely in your power doth lie To kill or save Oh helpe or else I die His gently cruell Love did thus reply I for your paine am grieved and would doe Without impeachment to my Chastity And honour any thing
Reader when first thou shalt behold this boyes Picture perhaps thou 'lt thinke his writings toyes Wrong not our Cowley so will nothing passe But gravity with thee Apollo was Beardlesse himselfe and for ought I can see Cowley may yongest sonne of Phoebus bee POETICAL BLOSSOMES BY A. C. fit surculus Arbor LONDON Printed by B.A. and T.F. for HENRY Sâ—ILâ— and are to be sold at his shop at the Signe of the Tygers-head in St. Paules Church-yard 1633 TO THE RIGHT HONORABLE and right Reverend Father in God IOHN Lord Bishop of LINCOLNE And Deane of Westminster MY LORD I Might well feare least these my rude and vnpolisht lines should offend your Honorable survay but that I hope your Noblenesse will rather smile at the faults committed by a Child then censure them Howsoever I desire your Lordships pardon for presenting things so vnworthy to your view and to accept the good will of him who in all duty is bound to be Your Lordships most humble servant ABRA COVVLEY To the Reader I. I Call'd the bushin'd Muse MELPOMENE And told her what sad Storie I would write Shee wept at hearing such a Tragedie Though wont in mournefull Ditties to delight If thou dislike these sorrowfull lines Then know My Muse with teares not with Conceits did flow II. And as she my vnabler quill did guide Her briny teares did on the paper fall If then vnequall numbers be espied Oh Reader doe not that my error call But thinke her teares defac't it and blame then My Muses griefe and not my missing Pen. ABRA COVVLEY To his deare Friend and Schoole-fellow ABRAHAM COVVLEY on his flourishing and hopefull BLOSSOMES NAture wee say decayes because our Age Is worse then were the Times of old The Stage And Histories the former Times declare In these our latter Dayes what defects are Experience teacheth What then Shall we blame Nature for this Not so let vs declayme Rather against our Selves 't is wee Decay Not She Shee is the same every way She was at first COVVLEY thou prov'st this truth Could ever former Age brag of a Youth So forward at these yeares Could NASO write Thus young such witty Poems TVLLI's mite Of Eloquence at this Age was not seene Nor yet was CATO'S Iudgement at Thirteene So great is thine Suppose it were so yet He CIC'RO's Eloquence TVLLY the Wit Of OVID wanted OVID too came farre In Iudgement behind CATO Therefore are None of all equall vnto Thee so pretty So Eloquent Iudicious and Witty Let the world's spring time but produce and show Such Blossomes as thy Writings are and know Then not till then shall my opinion be That it is Nature faileth and not wee BEN MAERS To his Friend and Schoole-fellow ABRAHAM COVVLEY on his Poeticall Blossomes MAny when Youths of tender Age they see Expressing CATO in their Gravitie Iudgement and Wit will oftentimes report They thinke their thread of Life exceeding short But my opinion is not so of Thee For thou shalt live to all Posterity These guifts will never let thee dye for Death Can not bereave thee of thy fame though breath Let snarling Critticks spend their braines to find A fault though there be none This is my mind Let him that carpeth with his vipers Tougne Thinke with himselfe what he could doe as young But if the Springing blossomes thus rare be What ripen'd Fruit shall wee hereafter see ROB MEADE Condiscipulus CONSTANTIA AND PHILETVS I Sing two constant Lovers various fate The hopes and feares which equally attend Their loves Their rivals envie Parents hate I sing their sorrowfull life and tragicke end Assist me this sad story to rehearse You Gods and be propitious to my verse In Florence for her stately buildings fam'd And lofty roofes that emulate the skie There dwelt a lovely Mayd CONSTANTIA nam'd Renown'd as mirror of all Italie Her lavish nature did at first adorne With PALEAS soule in CYTHEREA's forme And framing her attractive eyes so bright Spent all her wit in study that they might Keepe th' earth from Chaos and eternall night But envious Death destroyed their glorious light Expect not beauty then since she did part For in her Nature wasted all her Art Her hayre was brighter then the beames which are A Crowne to PHOEBVS and her breath so sweet It did transcend Arabian odours farre Or th'smelling Flowers wherewith the Spring doth greet Approaching Summer teeth like falling snow For white were placed in a double row Her wit excell'd all praise all admiration And speach was so attractive it might be A meanes to cause great PALLAS indignation And raise an envie from that Deity The mayden Lillyes at her lovely sight Waxt pale with envie and from thence grew white Shee was in birth and Parentage as high As in her fortune great or beauty rare And to her vertuous mindes nobility The guifts of Fate and Nature doubled were That in her spotlesse Soule and lovely Face Thou mightst have seene each Deity and grace The scornefull Boy ADONIS viewing her Would VENVS still despise yet her desire Each who but saw was a Competitor And rivall scorcht alike with CVPID'S fire The glorious beames of her fayre Eyes did move And light beholders on their way to Love Amongst her many Sutors a young Knight 'Bove others wounded with the Majesty Of her faire presence presseth most in sight Yet seldome his desire can satisfie With that blest object or her rarenesse see For Beauties guard is watchfull Iealousie Oft-times that hee might see his Dearest-fayre Vpon his stately Iennet he in the way Rides by her house who neighes as if he were Proud to be view'd by bright CONSTANTIA But his poore Master though to see her moue His joy dares show no looke betraying Loue. Soone as the morne peep'd from her rosie bedd And all Heauens smaller lights expulsed were She by her friends and neere acquaintance led Like other Maids oft walkt to take the ayre AVRORA blusht at such a sight vnknowne To see those cheekes were redder then her owne Th' obsequious Louer alwayes followes them And where they goe that way his journey feines Should they turne backe he would turne backe againe For where his Love his businesse there remaines Nor is it strange hee should be loath to part From her since shee had stolne away his heart PHILETVS hee was call'd sprung from a race Of Noble ancestors But destroying Time And envious Fate had laboured to deface The glory which in his great Stocke did shine His state but small so Fortune did decree But Love being blind hee that could never see Yet hee by chance had hit his heart aright And on CONSTANTIA'S eye his Arrow whet Had blowne the Fire that would destroy him quite Vnlesse his flames might like in her beget But yet he feares because he blinded is Though he have shot him right her heart hee 'l misse Vnto Loves Altar therefore hee repayres And offers there a pleasing Sacrifice Intreating CVPID with inducing Prayers To looke vpon and ease