send Whose drowsiness hath wrong'd the Muses friend What hope Aurora to propitiate thee Unless the Muse sing my Apology O in that Morning of my shame when I Lay folded up in sleeps Captivity How at the sight didst thou draw back thine Eyes Into thy modest veyl how did'st thou rise Twice Dy'd in thine own Blushes and did'st run To draw the Curtains and awake the Sun Who rowzing his illustrious Tresses came An seeing the loath'd Object hid for shame His Head in thy fair Bosome and still hides Me from his Patronage I pray he chides And pointing to dull Morpheus bids me take My own Apollo try if I can make His Lethe be my Helicon and see If Morpheus have a Muse to wait on me Hence 't is my humble Fancy finds no wings No nimble Raptures starts to Heaven and brings Enthusiastick Flames such as can give Marrow to my plump Genius make it live Drest in the glorious Madness of a Muse Whose Feet can walk the Milky way and chuse Her Starry Throne whose Holy heats can warm The Grave and hold up an exalted Arm To lift me from my lazy Urne and climb Upon the stopped shoulders of old Time And trace Eternity But all is dead All these delicious hopes are buried In the deep wrinkles of his angry Brow Where Mercy cannot find them but O thou Bright Lady of the Morn pitty doth lye So warm in thy soft Brest it cannot dye Have Mercy then and when he next shall rise O meet the angry God invade his Eyes And stroak his radiant Cheeks one timelly kiss Will kill his Anger and revive my Bliss So to the Treasure of thy pearly Deaw Thrice will I pay three Tears to show how true My grief is so my wakeful lay shall knock At th' Oriental Gates and duly mock The early Larks shrill Orizons to be An Anthem at the Days Nativity And the same Rosie-finger'd hand of thine That shuts Nights dying Eyes shall open mine But thou saint God of sleep forget that I Was ever known to be thy votary No more my Pillow shall thine Altar be Nor will I offer any more to thee My self a melting-Sacrifice I 'm born Again a fresh Child of the Buxome Morn Heir of the Suns first Beams why threat'st thou so Why dost thou shake thy Leaden Scepter goe Bestow thy Poppy upon wakeful woe Sickness and Sorrow whose pale Lids ne'r know Thy Downy Finger dwell upon their Eyes Shut in their Tears shut out their Miseries Loves Horoscope LOve brave vertues younger Brother Erst hath made my Heart a Mother She consults the conscious Sphears To câ—…lculate her young Sons years She asks if sad or saving pow'rs Gave Omen to his Infant hours She asks each â—…tar that then stood by If poor Love shall live or dye Ah my heart is that the way Are these the Beams that rule thy Day Thou know'st a Face in whose each look Beauty lays ope Loves Fortune-Book On whose fair Revolutions wait The obsequious Motions of Loves Fate Ah my Heart her Eyes and she Have taught thee new Astrology How e'r Loves Native hours were set What ever Starry Synod met T is in the Mercy of her Eye If poor Love shall live or dye If those sharp Rays putting on Points of Death bid Love begone Though the Heavens in Council sate To crown an uncontrouled Fate Though their best Aspects twin'd upon The kindest Constellation Cast amorous glances on his Birth And whisper'd the confederate Earth To pave his Paths with all the good That warms the Bed of Youth and Blood Love ha's no plea against her Eye Beauty frowns and Love must dye But if her milder infltence move And guild the hopes of humble Love Though Heavens inauspicious Eye Lay black on Loves Nativity Though every Diamond in Joves Crown Fixt his forehead to a frown Her Eye a strong appeal can give Beauty smiles and Love shall live O if Love shall live O where But in her Eye or in her Ear In her Breast or in her Breath Shall I hide poor Love from Death For in the life ought else can give Love shall dye although he live Or if Love shall dye O where But in her Eye or in her Ear In her Breath or in her Brest Shall I build his Funeral Nest While Love shall thus entombed lye Love shall live although he dye Out of Virgil In the praise of the Spring ALL Trees all Leavy Groves confess the Spring Their gentlest Friend then then the Lands begin To swell with forward pride and seed desire To generation Heavens Almighty Sire Melts on the Bosome of his Love and powrs Himself into her Lap in fruitful showres And by a soft insinuation mixt With Earths large Masse doth cherish and assist Her weak Conceptions No loan shade but Rings With chatting Birds delicious murmurings Then Venus mild instinct at set times yields The Herds to kindly meetings then the Fields Quick with warm Zephires lively breath lay forth Their pregnant Bosomes in a fragrant Birth Each body 's plump and jucy all things full Of supple moisture no coy twig but will Trust his beloved Bosome to the Sun Grown lusty now No Vine so weak and young That fears the foul-mouth'd Auster or those storms That the South-west wind hurries in his Arms But hastes her forward Blossomes and lays out Freely lays out her Leaves nor do I doubt But when the World first out of Chaos sprang So smil'd the days and so the tenor ran Of their felicity A spring was there An everlasting spring the jolly year Led round in his great Circle no winds Breath As then did smell of Winter or of Death When life's sweet Light first shone on Beasts and when From their hard Mother Earth sprang hardy men When Beasts took up their Lodging in the Wood Stars in their higher Chambers never cou'd The tender growth of things endure the sence Of such a change but that the Heav'ns indulgence Kindly supplys sick Nature and doth mold A sweetly temper'd Mean nor hot nor cold With a Picture sent to a Friend I Paint so ill my Piece had need to be Painted again by some good Poesie I write so ill my slender Line is scarce So much as th' Picture of a well-Lim'd Verse Yet may the Love I send be true though I Send not true Picture nor true Poesie Both which away I should not need to fear My Love or Feign'd or Painted should appear In praise of Lessius his rule of Health GOe now with some daring Drugg Bâ—…it the disease and while they tug Thou to maintain their cruel strife Spend the dear Treasure of thy life Go take Physick doat upon Some big-nam'd Composition The Oraculous Doctors mistick Bills Certain hard Words made into Pills And what at length shalt get by these Onely a Costlyer disease Goe poor Man think what shall be Remedy against thy Remedy That which makes us have no need Of Physick that 's Physick indeed Hark hither Reader wouldst thou see
morning And reinthron'd thee in thy Rosy Nest With blush of thine own blood thy day adorning It was the wit of Love oreflow'd the bounds Of Wrath and made the way through all these wounds Welcome Dear All-Adored Name For sure there is no Knee That knows not thee Or if there be such Sons of shame Alas what will they do When stubborn Rocks shall bow And Hills hang down their Heav'n-saluting Heads To seek for humble Beds Of Dust where in the bashful shades of night Next to their own low Nothing they may lye And couch before the dazeling light of thy dread Majesty They that by Love's mild dictate now Will not adore the Shall then with just Confusion bow And break before thee In the Glorious Epiphany of our Lord God a Hymn sung as by the Three Kings 1. KING BRight Babe whose awful Beauties make The morn incurr a sweet mistake 2. For whom th' officious Heav'ns devise To disinherit the Suns Rise 3. Delicately to displace The Day and plant it fairer in thy Face 1. O thou born King of Loves 2. Of Lights 3 Of Joys Cho. Look up Sweet Babe look up and see For love of thee Thus far from home The East is come To seek her self in thy sweet Eyes 1. We who strangely went astray Lost in a bright Meridian night 2. A Darkness made of too much Day 3 Becken'd from far By thy fair Star Lo at last have found our way Cho. To Thee thou Day of Night thou East of West Lo we at last have found the way To thee the Worlds great Universal East The general and indifferent day 1 All-circling point All-centring sphere The World 's One Round Eternal year 2 Whose full and all-unwrinkled face Nor sinks nor swells with time or place 3 But every where and every while Is one consistent solid smile 1 Not vext and tost 2. 'Twixt Spring and Frost 3 Nor by alternate shreds of Light Sordidly shifting hands with Shades and Night Cho. O little all in thy embrace The World lies warm and likes his place Nor does his full Globe fail to be Kist on both his Cheeks by thee Time is too narrow for thy year Nor makes the whole World thy half Sphere 1 To thee to thee From him we flee 2 From him whom by a more illustrious lye The blindness of the World did call the Eye 3 To him who by these mortal Clouds hast made Thy Self our Sun though thine own Shade 2 Farewel the World 's false Light Farewel the white Egypt a long farewel to thee Bright Idol black Idolatry The dire face of inferiour darkness kist And courted in the pompous Mask of a more specious Mist. 2 Farwell farewell The proud and misplac't Gates of Hell Perch't in the morning's way And double-guilded as the doors of Day The deep Hypocrisie of Death and Night More desperately dark because more bright 3 Welcome the World 's sure way Heav'ns wholsome Ray. Cho. Welcome to us and we Sweet to our selves in thee 1 The deathless Heir of all thy Fathers day 2 Decently born Embosom'd in a much more Rosie Morn The Blushes of thy all-unblemish't Mother 3 No more that other Aurora shall set ope Her Ruby Casements or hereafter hope From mortal Eyes To meet Religious welcomes at her Rise Cho. We pretious ones in you have won A gentler Morn a juster Sun 1 His superficial Beams Sun-burn't our skin 2 But left within 3 The night and Winter still of Death and Sin Cho. Thy softer yet more certain Darts Spare our Eyes but pierce our Hearts 1 Therefore with his proud Persian spoils 2 We court thy more concerning smiles 3 Therefore with his disgrace We guild the humble Cheek of this chast place Cho. And at thy Feet pour forth his Face 1 The doating Nations now no more Shall any day but thine adore 2 Nor much less shall they leave these Eyes For cheap Egyptian Deities 3 In whatsoe'r more Sacred shape Of Ram He-Goat or Reverend Ape Those beauteous ravishers opprest so sore The too-hard-tempted Nations 1 Never more By wanton Heyfer shall be worn 2 A Garland or a guilded Horn. The Altar-stall'd Ox fat Osyris now With his fair Sister Cow 3 Shall kick the Clouds no more but lean and tame Cho. See his horn'd Face and dy for shame And Mithra now shall be no name 1. No longer shall the immodest Lust Of adulterous Godles dust 2 Fly in the face of Heav'n as if it were The poor World's Fault that he is fair 3 Nor with perverse Loves and Religious Rapes Revenge thy Bounties in their beauteous shapes And punish best things worst because they stood Guilty of being much for them too good 1 Proud sons of death that durst compel Heav'n it self to find them Hell 2 And by strange wit of madness wrest From this World's East the other's West 3 All-Idolizing worms that thus could crowd And urge their Sun into thy Cloud Forcing his sometimes eclips'd face to be A long deliquium to the light of thee Cho. Alas with how much he avier shade The shamfac't Lamp hung down his head For that one Eclipse he made Then all those he suffered 1 For this he lookt so big and every morn With a red face confest this scorn Or hiding his vext cheeks in a hir'd mist Kept them from being so unkindly kist 2 It was for this the day did rise So oft with blubber'd Eyes For this the Evening wept and we ne'r knew But call'd it Dew 3 This daily wrong Silenc't the morning Sons and dampt their song Cho. Nor was 't our deafness but our sins that thus Long made th' Harmonious orbs all mute to us 2 Time has a day in store When this so proudly poor And self-oppressed spark that has so long By the love-sick World been made Not so much their Sun as Shade Weary of this Glorious wrong From them and from himself shall flee For shelter to the shadow of thy Tree Cho. Proud to have gain'd this precious loss And chang'd his false Crown for thy Cross. 2 That dark day's clear doom shall define Whose is the Master Fire which Sun would shine That sable iudgement-seat shall by new laws Decide and settle the Great cause Of controverted light Cho. And natur's wrongs rejoyce to do thee right 3 That forfeiture of noon to night shall pay All the idolatrous Thefts done by this night of day And the great Penitent press his own pale Lips With an elaborate Love-eclipse To which the low world's Laws Shall lend no cause Cho. Save those domestick which he borrows From our sins and his own sorrows 1 Three sad hours sackcloth then shall show to us His pennance as our fault conspicuous 2 And he more needfully and nobly prove The Nation 's terror now then erst their love 3 Their hated loves chang'd into wholsom fears Cho. The shutting of his Eye shall open theirs 2 As by a fair-ey'd fallacy of day Mis-led before they lost their way So shall
of us his Lamb will bring Each his pair of Silver Doves At last in fire of thy fair Eyes We 'l burn our own best Sacrifice Sospetto d' Herode Libro Primo Argomento Casting the times with their strong signes Death's Master his own his own death Divines Strugling for Help his best Hope is Herod's suspition may heal his Therefore he sends a Fiend to wake The sleeping Tyrants fond mistake Who fears in vain that he whose Birth Mean's Heav'n should meddle with his Earth 1 MUse now the servant of soft Loves no more Hate is thy Theame and Herod whose unblest Hand so what dares not jealous Greatness tore A thousand sweet Babes from their Mothers Brest The Blooms of Martydome O be a Door Of Language to my Infant Lips ye best Of Confessors whose Throats answering his swords Gave forth your Blood for Breath spoke Souls for Words 2 Great Anthony Spains well-beseeming pride Thou Mighty Branch of Emperours and Kings The Beauties of whose dawn what Eye may bide Which with the Sun himself weighs equal Wings Mapp of Heroick worth whom far and wide To the beleeving World Fame boldly sings Deign thou to wear this humble Wreath that bowes To be the sacred Honour of thy Brows 3. Nor needs my Muse a Blush or these bright Flow'rs Other then what their own blest Beauties bring They were the smiling Sons of those sweet Bow'rs That drink the Dew of Life whose deathless Spring Nor Sirian Flame nor Borean Frost deflow'rs From whence Heav'n-labouring Bees with busie wing Suck hidden Sweets which well digested proves Immortal Honey for the Hive of Loves 4. Thou whose strong Hand with so transcendent worth Holds high the Rein of fair Parthenope That neither Rome nor Athens can bring forth A Name in Noble Deeds Rival to thee Thy Fames full noise makes proud the patient Earth Far more then Matter for my Muse and me The Tyrrhâ—…ne Seas and Shores sound all the same And in their Murmures keep thy Mighty Name 5. Below the bottom of the great Abysse There where one Center reconciles all things The Worlds profound Heart pants there placed is Mischiefs old Master close about him clings A curl'd knot of embracing Snakes that kiss His correspondent Cheeks these loathsome Strings Hold the perverse Prince in Eternal Ties Fast bound since first he forfeited the Skies 6. The Judge of Torments and the King of Tears He fills a burnisht Throne of quenchless fire And for his old fair Robes of Light he wears A gloomy Mantle of dark Flames the Tire That Crowns his hated head on high appears Where seav'n tall Horns his Empires pride aspire And to make up Hells Majesty each Horn Seav'n Crested Hydra's horribly adorn 7. His Eyes the sullen Dens of Death and Night Startle the dull Air with a dismal Red Such his fell Glances as the fatal Light Of staring Comets that look Kingdoms dead From his black Nostrils and blew Lips in spight Of Hells own stink a worser stench is spread His Breath Hells Lightning is and each deep groan Disdains to think that Heav'n Thunders alone 8. His Flaming Eyes dire exhalation Unto a dreadful Pile gives fiery Breath Whose unconsum'd Consumption preys upon The never-dying Life of a long death In this sad House of slow Destruction His shop of Flames he fries himself beneath A mass of Woes his Teeth for Torment gnash While his Steel sides sound with with his Tails strong lash 9. Three Rigorous Virgins waiting still behind Assist the Throne of th'Iron-Sceptered King With whips of Thorns and knotty Vipers twin'd They rouse him when his rank Thoughts need a sting Their Locks are Beds of uncomb'd Snakes that wind About their shady Brows in wanton Rings Thus Reigns the wrathful King and while he Reigns His Scepter and himself both he disdains 10. Disdainful wretch how hath one bold Sin cost Thee all the Beauties of thy once bright Eyes How hath one black Eclipse cancell'd and crost The Glories that did Guild thee in thy Rise Proud Morning of a perverse Day how lost Are thou unto thy self thou too self-wise Narcissus foolish Phaeton who for all Thy high-aim'd hopes gain'dst but a Flaming fall 11. From Death's sad shades to the Life-breathing Air This mortal Enemy to Mankinds good Lifts his malignant Eyes wasted with care To become Beautiful in humane Blood Where Jordan melts his Chrystal to make fair The Fields of Palestine with so pure a Flood There does he fix his Eyes and there Detect New matter to make good his great suspect 12. He calls to mind th' old quarrel and what spark Set the contending Sons of Heav'n on fire Oft in his deep Thought he revolves the Dark Sibills Divining Leaves he does enquire Into th' old Prophesies trembling to mark How many present Prodigies conspire To Crown their past Predictions both he lays Together in his pondrous mind both weighs 13. Heavens Golden-winged Herald late he saw To a poor Galilean Virgin sent How low the Bright Youth bow'd and with what awe Immortal Flow'rs to her fair Hand present He saw th' old Hebrews womb neglect the Law Of Age and Barrenness and her Babe prevent His Birth by his Devotion who began Betimes to be a Saint before a Man 14. He saw Rich Nectar Thaws release the Rigor Of th' Icy North from Frost-bound Atlas hands His Adamantine Fetters fall green Vigor Gladding the Scythian Rocks and Libian Sands He saw a vernal smile sweetly disfigure Winters sad Face and through the flowry Lands Of fair Engaddi Honey-sweating Fountains With Manna Milk and Balm new broach the Mountains 15. He saw how in that Blest Day-bearing Night The Heav'n rebuked shades made haste away How bright a Dawn of Angels with new Light Amaz'd the midnight World and made a Day Of which the Morning knew not Mad with Spight He markt how the poor Shepheards ran to pay Their simple Tribute to the Babe whose Birth Was the great Business both of Heav'n and Earth 16. He saw a threefold Sun with rich encrease Make proud the Ruby Portals of the East He saw the Temple Sacred to sweet Peace Adore her Princes Birth flat on her Brest He saw the falling Idols all confess A coming Deity He saw the Nest Of pois'nous and unnatural Loves Earth-nurst Toucht with the Worlds true Antidote to burst 17. He saw Heav'n Blossome with a new-born Light On which as on a Glorious stranger gaz'd The Golden Eyes of Night whose Beam made Bright The way to Beth'lem and as boldly blaz'd Nor askt leave of the Sun by Day as Night By whom as Heav'ns illustrious Hand-maid rais'd Three Kings or what is more three Wise men went Westward to find the Worlds true Orient 18. Struck with these great concurrences of things Symptomes so deadly unto Death and him Fain would he have forgot what fatal Strings Eternally bind each rebellious Limb. He shook himself and spread his spatious Wings Which like two bosom'd Sails embrace the dimme Air with a dismal
winged Vowes Makes haste to meet her morning Spouse And close with his immortal kisses Happy Soul who never misses To improve that precious hour And every day Seize her sweet Prey All fresh and fragrant as he rises Dropping with a Balmy showr A delicious dew of Spices O let that happy Soul hold fast Her Heavenly Armful she shall taste At once ten thousand Paradises She shall have power To Rifle and Deflower The rich and roseal Spring of those rare sweets Which with a swelling Bosome there she meets Boundless and infinite bottomless Treasures Of pure inebriating pleasures Happy soul she shall discover What joy what bliss How many Heavens at once it is To have a God become her Lover On Mr G. Herbert's Book entituled The Temple of Sacred Poems sent to a Gentlewoman KNow you Fair on what you look Divinest Love lies in this Book Expecting Fire from your Eyes To kindle this his Sacrifice When your Hands unty these strings Think you 've an Angel by the wings One that gladly will be nigh To wait upon each morning sigh To flutter in the balmy Air Of your well perfumed Prayer These white Plumes of his Hee 'l lend you Which every day to Heaven will send you To take acquaintance of the Sphear And all the smooth-fac'd kindred there And though Herberts Name do owe These Devotions fairest know That while I lay them on the shrine Of your white Hand they are mine A Hymn to the Name and Honour of the Admirable Saint TERESA Foundress of the Reformation of the Discalced Carmelites both Men and Women a Woman for Angelical heighth of speculation for Masculine courage of performance more then a Woman who yet a Child out ran Maturity and durst plot a Martyrdom LOve thou art absolute sole Lord Of Life and Death To prove the Word â—…e need to go to none of all â—…hose thy old soldiers stout and tall â—…ipe and full grown that could reach down â—…ith strong Arms their Triumphant Crown â—…ch as could with lusty breath â—…eak loud unto the face of Death â—…eir great Lords glorious Name to none â—…f those whose large Brests built a Throne â—…r Love their Lord glorious and great â—…e'll see him take a private seat â—…nd make his Mansion in the milde â—…d milky Soul of a soft Child Scarce had she learnt to Lisp a name Of Martyr yet she thinks it shame Life should so long play with that Breath Which spent can buy so brave a Death 〈◊〉 never undertook to know â—…at Death with â—…ove should have to doe Nor hath she e'r yet understood Why to show Love she should shed Blood Yet though she cannot tell you why She can Love and she can Dye Scarce had she Blood enough to make A guilty Sword blush for her sake Yet has she a heart dares hope to prove How much less strong is Death then Love Be love but there let poor six years Be pos'd with the maturest Fears Man trembles at we straight shall find Love knows no nonage nor the Mind 'T is Love not Years or Limbs that can Make the Martyr or the Man Love toucht her Heart and loe it beats High and burns with such brave heats Such thirst to die as dare drink up A thousand cold Deaths in one Cup Good reason for she breaths all fire Her weak Brest heaves with strong desire Of what she may with fruitless wishes Seek for amongst her Mothers Kisses Since 't is not to be had at home She 'll travel to a Martyrdome No home for her confesses she But where she may a Martyr be She 'll to the Moors and Trade with them For this unvalued Diadem She offers them her dearest Breath With Christs name in 't in change for Death She 'll bargain with them and will give Them God and teach them how to live In him or if they this denie For him she 'll teach them how to die So shall she leave amongst them sown Her Lords Blood or at least her own Farewel then all the World adieu Teresa is no more for you Farewel all pleasures sports and joyes Never till now esteemed toyes Farewell whatever dear may be Mothers Arms or Fathers Knee Farewel House and Farewel Home She 's for the Moors and Martyrdome Sweet not so fast Loe thy fair Spouse Whom thou seek'st with so swift vows Calls thee back and bids thee come T' embrace a milder Martyrdome Blest pow'rs forbid thy tender life Should bleed upon a barbarous knife Or some base hand have power to rase Thy Brests chaste Cabinet and uncase A Soul kept there so sweet O no Wise Heaven will never have it so Thou art Love's victim and must dye A death more mystical and high Into Loves hand thou shalt let fall A still surviving Funeral He is the Dart must make the death Whose stroke wall taste thy hallowed Breath A Dart thrice dipt in that rich flame Which writes thy Spouses radiant name Upon the roof of Heaven where ay It shines and with a Soveraign ray Beats bright upon the burning faces Of souls which in that names sweet graces Find everlasting smiles so Rare So Spiritual Pure and Fair Must be the immortal instrument Upon whose choice point shall be spent A life so lov'd and that there be Fit Executioners for thee The fairest and the first-born Loves of fire Blest Seraphims shall leave their Quire And turn Loves soldiers upon thee To exercise their Archery O how oft shalt thou complain Of a sweet and subtile pain Of intollerable joyes Of a death in which who dies Loves his death and dies again And would for ever so be slain And lives and dies and knows not why To live but that he still may dye How kindly will thy gentle Heart Kisse the sweetly killing Dart And close in his Embraces keep Those delicious wounds that weep Balsome to heal themselves with thus When these thy Deaths so numerous Shall all at once dye into one And melt thy souls sweet Mansion Like a soft Lump of Incense hasted By too hot a fire and wasted Into perfuming Clouds So fast Shalt thou exhale to Heaven at last In a dissolving sigh and then O what ask not the Tongues of men Angels cannot tell suffice Thy self shalt feel thine own full joyes And hold them fast for ever there So soon as thou shalt first appear The Moon of Maiden Stars thy white Mistress attended by such bright Souls as thy shining self shall come And in her first ranks make thee room Where 'mongst her snowy Family Immortal welcomes wait on thee O what delight when she shall stand And teach thy Lips Heaven with her hand On which thou now may'st to thy wishes Heap up thy consecrated Kisses What joy shall seize thy Soul when she â—…ending her Blessed Eyes on thee Those second smiles of Heaven shall dart Her mild Rays through thy melting heart Angels thy old friends there shall greet thee Glad at their own home now to meet thee All thy good Works
which went before And waited for thee at the Door Shall own thee there and all in one Weave a Constellation Of Crowns with which the King thy spouse Shall build up thy triumphant Brows All thy old Woes shall now smile on thee And thy pains set bright upon thee All thy sorrows here shall shine And thy sufferings be Divine Tears shall take Comfort and turn Gems And wrongs repent to Diadems Even thy deaths shall live and new Dress the soul which late they slew Thy wounds shall blush to such bright scarrs As keep account of the Lambs wars Those rare Works where thou shalt leave Writ Loves Noble History with Wit Taught thee by none but him while here They seed our souls shall cloath thine there Each Heavenly Word by whose hid flame Our hard hearts shall strike fire the same Shall flourish on thy Brows and be Both Fire to us and Flame to thee Whose Light shall live bright in thy face By Glory in our Hearts by Grace Thou shalt look round about and see Thousands of crown'd Souls throng to be Themselves thy Crown Sons of thy Nows The Virgin Births with which thy Spouse Made fruitful thy fair soul Go now And with them all about thee bow To him put on he 'l say put on My Rosy Love that thy rich Zone Sparkling with the sacred Flames Of thousand souls whose happy names Heaven keeps upon thy score thy bright Life brought them first to kiss the Light That kindled them to starrs and so Thou with the Lamb thy Lord shall 't goe And where so e'r he sits his white Steps walk with him those ways of Light Which who in death would live to see Must learn in life to dye like thee An Apology for the precedent Hymn as having been writ when the Author was yet a Protestant THus have I back again to thy bright name Fair sea of Holy fires transfus'd the Flame 〈◊〉 took from reading thee 't is to thy wrong 〈◊〉 know that in my weak and worthless song Thou here art set to shine where thy full day â—…carce dawns O pardon if I dare to say â—…hine own dear Books are guilty for from thence 〈◊〉 Learnt to know that Love is Eloquence â—…hat Heavenly Maxim gave me heart to try 〈◊〉 what to other Tongues is Tun'd so high â—…hy praise might not speak English too forbid By all thy Mysteries that there lye hid â—…orbid it Mighty Love let no fond hate â—…f Names and Words so far prejudicate â—…uls are not Spaniards too one friendly Flood â—…f Baptisme blends them all into one Blood â—…hrists Faith makes but one body of all souls â—…nd loves that Bodies Soul no Law controuls â—…ur free Trafick for Heaven we may maintain â—…eace sure with Piety though it dwell in Spain â—…hat Soul soever in any Language can â—…eak Heav'n like hers is my Souls countrey-man O 'T is not Spanish but 't is Heaven she speaks 'T is Heaven that lies in Ambush there and breaks From thence into the wondring Readers Brest Who finds his warm heart hatch into a nest Of little Eagles and young Loves whose high Flights scorn the Lazie Dust and things that dye There are enow whose Draughts as deep as Hell Drink up all Spain in Sack let my Soul swell With thee strong Wine of Love let others swim In puddles we will pledge this Seraphim Bowls full of richer Blood then blush of Grape Was ever guilty of change we our shape My soul some drink from Men to Beasts O then Drink we till we prove more not less then Men And turn not Beasts but Angels Let the King Me ever into these his Cellars bring Where flows such Wine as we can have of none But him who trode the Wine-press all alone Wine of Youths life and the sweet deaths of Love Wine of immortal mixture which can prove Its Tincture from the Rosie Nectar Wine That can exalt weak Earth and so refine Our Dust that in one Draught Mortality May drink it self up and forget to dye On a Treatise of Charity RIse then immortal Maid Religion rise Put on thy self in thine own looks t' our Eyes Be what thy Beauties not our blots have made thee Such as e'r our dark sins to Dust betray'd thee Heav'n set thee down new drest when thy bright Birth Shot thee like Lightning to th' astonisht Earth From th' dawn of thy fair Eye-lids wipe away Dull Mists and melancholly Clouds take day And thine own Beams about thee bring the best Of whatsoe'r persum'd thy Eastern Nest. Girt all thy Glories to thee then sit down Open this Book fair Queen and take thy Crown These learned Leaves shall vindicate to thee Thy Holiest Humblest Handmaid Charity She 'l dress thee like thy self set thee on high Where thou shalt reach all hearts command each Eye Lo where I see thy offrings wake and rise From the pale Dust of that strange Sacrifice which they themselves were each one putting on A Majesty that may beseem thy Throne The Holy Youth of Heav'n whose Golden Rings Girt round thy awful Altars with bright wings Fanning thy fair Locks which the World believes As much as sees shall with these sacred Leaves Trick their tall Plumes and in that garb shall go If not more glorious more conspicuous tho Be it enacted then By the fair Laws of thy firm-pointed Pen Gods services no longer shall put on A sluttishness for pure Religion No longer shall our Churches frighted stones Lie scatter'd like the Burnt and Martyr'd bones Of dead Devotion nor faint Marbles weep â—…n their sad Ruines nor Religion keep A melancholly Mansion in those cold â—…rns Like Gods Sanctuaries they lookt of old Now seem they Temples consecrate to none Or to a new God Desolation No more the Hypocrite shall th' upright be Because he 's stiff and will confess no Knee While others bend their Knee no more shalt thou Disdainful Dust and Ashes bend thy Brow Nor on Gods Altar cast two scorching Eyes Bak't in hot scorn for a burnt Sacrifice But for a Lamb thy tame and tender Heart New struck by Love still trembling on his Dart Or for two Turtle Doves it shall suffice To bring a pair of meek and humble Eyes This shall from henceforth be the Masculine Theme Pulpits and Pens shall sweat in to redeem Vertue to Action that Life-feeding flame That keeps Religion warm not swell a name Of faith a Mountain word made up of Air With those dear spoils that wont to dress the Fair And fruitful Charities full Breasts of old Turning her out to tremble in the cold What can the Poor hope from us when we be Uncharitable ev'n to Charity On the Glorious Assumption of the Blessed Virgin HArk she is call'd the parting hour is come take thy farwel poor world heaven must go home A piece of Heavenly Light purer and brighter Then the chast stars whose choice Lamps come to ligâ—… 〈◊〉 While through the Christal Orbs clearer then they She climbs and makes a
presence and our future now Crashaw Faith's Sister Nurse of fair desire Fears Antidote a wise and well stay'd fire Temper'd 'twixt cold despair and torrid joy Queen Regent in young Loves Minority Though the vext Chymick vainly chases His fugiâ—…ve Gold through all her faces And loves more sierce more fruitless fires assay One Face more fugitive then all they True Hope 's a glorious Huntress and her chase The God of Nature in the Field of Grace THE DELIGHTS OF THE MUSES OR Other Poems written on several occasions By RICHARD CRASHAVV Mart. Dic mihi quid melius desidiosus agas THE DELIGHTS OF THE MUSES Musick 's Duel NOw Westward Sol had spent the richest Beams Of Noons high Glory when hard by the streams Of Tiber on the Scene of a green Plat Under protection of an Oak there sate A sweet Lutes-Master in whose gentle Airs He lost the Days heat and his own hot cares Close in the covert of the Leaves there stood A Nightingale come from the Neighbouring Wood The sweet Inhabitant of each glad Tree Their Muse their Syren harmless Syren she There stood she listning and did entertain The Musick 's soft report and mold the same In her own Murmures that what ever mood His curious fingers lent her voice made good The man perceiv'd his Rival and her Art Dispos'd to give the Light-foot Lady sport Awakes his Lute and 'gainst the Fight to come Informs it in a sweet Praeludium Of closer strains and e'r the War begin He lightly skirmishes on every string Charg'd with a flying touch and streight way she Carves out her dainty voice as readily Into a thousand sweet distinguish'd 〈◊〉 ones And reckons up in soft divisions Quick Volumes of wild Notes to let him know By that shrill Taste she could do something too His nimble hands instinct then taught each string A cap'ring cheâ—…rfulness and made them sing To their own dance now negligently râ—…sh He throws his Arm and with a long drawn dash Blends all together then distinctly trips From this to that then quick returning skips And snatches this again and pauses there She measures every Measure every where Meets Art with Art sometimes as if in doubt Not perfect yet and fearing to be out Trails her plain Ditty in one long spun Note Through the sleâ—…k passage of her open Throat A clear unwrinkled song then doth she point it With tender Accents and severely joynt it By short dimunitives that being rear'd In controverting warbles evenly shar'd With her sweet self she wrangles he amaz'd That from so small a Channel should be rais'd The Torrent of a voice whose melody Could melt into such sweet variety Strains higher yet that tickled with rare Art The â—…atling strings each breathing in his part Most kindly do fall out the grumbling Base â—…n surly Groans disdains the Trebles Grace The high-perch't Treble chirps at this and chides Until his Finger Moderatour hides And closes the sweet quarrel rousing all Hoarse shrill at once as when the Trumpets call Hot Mars to th' Harvest of Deaths Field and woo Mens hearts into their hands this Lesson too She gives him back her supple Brest thrills out Sharp Airs and staggers in a warbling doubt Of dallying sweetness hovers o'r her skill And folds in wav'd Notes with a trembling Bill The plyant Series of her slippery Song Then starts she suddenly into a Throng Of short thick sobs whose thundring Volleys float And roul themselves over her Lubrick Throat â—…n panting Murmurs still'd out of her Breast That ever-bubling Spring the sugred Nest Of her delicious soul that there does lye Bathing in streams of liquid Melodie Musicks best Seed-plot when in ripen'd Airs A Golden-headed Harvest fairly rears His Honey-dropping tops plow'd by her Breath Which there reciprocally laboureth In that sweet soyl it seems a Holy Quire Founded to th' Name of great Apollo's Lyre Whose Silver-roof rings with the sprightly Notes Of sweet-Lip'd Angel-â—…mps that swill their Throats In Cream of morning Helicon and then Preferr soft Anthems to the Ears of Men To woo them from their Beds still murmuring That Men can sleep while they their Mattens sing Most Divine Service whose so early lay Prevents the Eye-lids of the blushing day There might you hear her kindle her soft voice In the close murmur of a sparkling noise And lay the ground-work of her hopeful song Still keeping in the forward Stream so long Till a sweet whirlwind striving to get out Heaves her soft Bosome wanders round about And makes a pretty Earthquake in her Brest Till the fledg'd Notes at length forsake their Nest Fluttering in wanton shoals and to the Sky Wing'd with their own wild Eccho's pratling fly She opes the Floodgate and le ts loose a Tide Of streaming Sweetness which in State doth ride On the wav'd back of every swelling strain Rising and falling in a pompous Train And while she thus discharges a shrill Peal Of flashing Airs she qualifies their Zeal With the cool Epode of a graver Noat Thus high thus low as if her Silver Throat Would reach the Brazen voice of Wars hoarse Bird Her little soul is ravisht and so pour'd Into loose extasies that she is plac't Above her self Musicks Enthusiast Shame now and Anger mixt a double stain In the Musitians face yet once again Mistress I come now reach a strain my Lute Above her mock or be for ever mute Or Tune a Song of victory to me Or to thy self sing thine own Obsequie So said his hands sprightly as Fire he flings And with a quavering coyness tasts the strings The sweet-Lip'd Sisters Musically frighted Singing their fears are fearfully delighted Trembling as when Apollo's Golden Hairs Are fan'd and frizâ—…d in the wanton Airs Of his own Breath which married to his lyre Doth Tune the Sphears and make Heavens self look higher From this to that from that to this he flies Feels Musicks pulse in all her Arteries Caught in a Net which there Apollo spreads His Fingers struggle with the vocal Threads Following those little Rills he sinks into A Sea of Helicon his Hand does go Those parts of sweetness which with Nectar drop Softer then that which pants in Hebe's Cup The humourous strings expound his Learned touch By various Glosses now they seem to grutch And murmure in a buzzing dinne then gingle In shrill-tongu'd Accents striving to be single Every smooth turn every delicious stroke Gives life to some new Grace thus doth h'invoke Sweetness by all her Names thus bravely thus Fraught with a Fury so harmonious The Lutes light Genius now does proudly rise Heav'd on the surges of swoln Rapsodies Whose flourish Meteor like doth curle the Air With flash of high-born Fancies here and there Dancing in lofty measures and anon Creeps on the soft touch of a tender tone Whose trembling Murmurs melting in wilde Airs Runs to and fro complaining his sweet Cares Because those precious mysteries that dwell â—…n Musick 's ravish't soul he dare not tell But whisper to
triumphi Et satis ah nostri causa doloris erat Causa doloris erat Carolus sospes licet esset Anglia quod saltem discere posset Abest Et satis est nostri Carolus nunc causa triumphi Dicere quod saltem possumus Ille redit Ad Principem nondum natum NAscere nunc O nunc quid enim puer alme moraris Nulla tibi dederit dulcior hora diem Ergone tot tardos O lente morabere menses Rex redit Ipse veni dic bone Gratus ades Nam quid Ave nostrum quid nostri verba triumphi Vagitu melius dixeris ista tuo At maneas tamen nobis nova causa triumphi Sic demum fueris nec nova causa tamen Nam quoties Carolo novus aut nova nascitur infans Revera toties Carolus ipse redit CARMEN DEO NOSTRO Te Decet HYMNUS SACRED POEMS COLLECTED CORRECTED AUGMENTED Most Humbly PRESENTED TO MY LADY THE COUNTESSE OF DENBIGH By her Most devoted Servant RICH. CRASHAW In hearty acknowledgement of his immortal Obligation to her Goodness and Charity CRASHAWE THE ANAGRAM HE WAS CAR. WAs Car then Crashaw or was Crashaw Car Since both within one name combined are Yes Car's Crashaw he Car 't is Love alone Which melts two hearts of both composing one So Crashaw's still the same so much desired By strongest Wits so honor'd so admired Car Was but He that enter'd as a friend With whom he shar'd his thoughts and did commend While yet he liv'd this Work they lov'd each other Sweet Crashaw was his friend he Crashaws Brother So Car hath Title then 't was his intent That what his Riches pen'd poor Car should Print Nor fears he check praising that happy one Who was belov'd by all disprais'd by none To wit being pleas'd with all things he pleas'd all Nor would he give nor take offence befal What Might he would possess himself and live As dead devoid of interest t' all might give Disease t' his well composed mind forestall'd With Heavenly Riches which had wholly call'd His thoughts from Earth to live above in th' Air A very Bird of Paradise No care Had he of earthly trash What might suffice To fit his soul to Heavenly exercise Sufficed him and may we guess his hart By what his Lips bring forth his onely part Is God and Godly thoughts Leaves doubt to none But that to whom one God is all all 's one What he might eat or wear he took no thought His needful food he rather found then sought He seeks no Downs no Sheets his Bed's still made If he can find a Chair or Stool he 's laid When day peeps in he quits his restless rest And still poor soul before he 's up he 's drest Thus dying did he live yet liv'd to dye In th' Virgins Lap to whom he did ayply His Virgin thoughts and words and thence was styl'd By foes the Chaplain of the Virgin mild While yet he liv'd without his Modesty Imparted this to some and they to me Live happy then dear soul injoy thy rest Eternally by pains thou purchasedst While Car must live in Care who was thy friend Nor cares he how he live so in the end He may injoy his dearest Lord and thee And sit and sing more skilful songs Eternally THOMAS CAR. TO THE Noblest and best of LADIES THE COUNTESSE OF DENBIGH Perswading her to Resolution in Religion and to render her self without further delay ino the Communion of the Catholick Church WHat Heaven-intreated Heart is this Stands trembling at the Gate of Bliss Holds fast the door yet dares not venture Fairly to open it and enter Whose Definition is a doubt 'Twixt Life and Death 'twixt in and out Say lingring fair why comes the birth Of your brave Soul so slowly forth Plead your pretences O you strong In weakness why you choose so long In labor of your self to lie Nor daring quite to live nor die Ah linger not lov'd Soul a slow And late consent was a long no Who grants at last long time try'd And did his best to have deny'd What Magick bolts what Mystick Barrs Maintain the Will in these strange Warrs What fatal what fantastick Bands Keep the free Heart from its own Hands So when the year takes cold we see Poor Waters their own Prisoners be Fetter'd and lock d up fast they ly In a sad self-captiâ—…ity Th' astonisht Nymphs their floods strange fate deplore To see themselves their own severer shore Thou that alone canst thaw this cold And fetch the Heart from its strong Hold Almighty Love end this long War And of a Meteor make a Star O fix this fair Indefinite And mongst thy shafts of Soveraign light Choose out that sure decisive Dart Which has the Key of this close Heart Knows all the corners of 't and can controul The self-shut Cabinet of an unsearcht soul. O let it be at last Love s hour Raise this tall Trophee of thy Pow'r Come once the conquering way not to confute But kill this Rebel-word Irresolute That so in spight of all this peevish strength Of weakness she may write Resolv'd at Length Unfold at length unfold fair Flow'r And use the season of Love's show'r Meet his well-meaning wounds wise Heart And haste to drink the wholsome Dart That Healing shaft which Heav'n till now Has in Loves Quiver hid for you O Dart of Love Arrow of Light O happy you if it hit right It must not fall in vain it must Not mark the dry regardless dust Fair one it is your Fate and brings Eternal Words upon its Wings Meet it with wide-spread Arms and see It 's seat your soul 's just center be Disband dull fears give faith the day To save your life kill your delay It is Loves Siege and sure to be Your triumph though his Victory 'T is cowardise that keeps this Field And want of Courage not to yield Yield then O yield that Love may win The Fort at last and let Life in Yield quickly lest perhaps you prove Death's prey before the prize of Love This Fort of your fair self if 't be not won He is repulst indeed but you 'r undone To the Name above every Name the Name of JESUS A Hymn I Sing the Name which none can say But touch't with an interiour Ray The name of our new Peace our Good Our Blisse and supernatural Blood The name of all our Lives and Loves Hearken and help ye Holy Doves The high-born Brood of Day you bright Candidates of blissful Light The Heirs Elect of Love whose Names belong Unto the everlasting life of Song All ye wise souls who in the wealthy Brest Of this unbounded Name build your warm Nest. Awake my Glory Soul if such thou be And that fair Word at all refer to thee Awake and Sing And be all Wing Bring hither thy whole Self and let me see What of thy Parent Heav'n yet speaks in Thee O thou art Poor Of Noble Pow'rs I see And full of
fallacy of fire That is a Seraphim they say And this the great Teresia Readers be rul'd by me and make Here a well-plac't and wise mistake You must transpose the picture quite And spell it wrong to read it right Read Him for Her and Her for Him And call the Saint the Seraphim Painter what didst thou understand To put her Dart into his hand See even the years and size of him Shows this the Mother Seraphim This is the Mistress flame and duteous he Her happy fire-works here comes down to see O most poor-spirited of men Had thy cold Pencil kist her Pen Thou couldst not so unkindly err To show us this faint shade for her Why Man this speaks pure mortal frame And mocks with female Frost Love's manly flame One would suspect thou meanst to print Some weak inferiour Woman Saint But had thy pale-fac't purple took Fire from the burning checks of that bright Book Thou wouldst on her have heapt up all That could be found Seraphical What e'r this youth of fire wears fair Rosie Fingers Radiant Hair Glowing Cheek and glistring Wings All those fair and flagrant things But before all that fiery Dart Had fill'd the Hand of this great Heart Do then as equal right requires Since his the blushes be and her 's the fires Resume and rectify thy rude design Undress thy Seraphim into Mine Redeem this injury of thy Art Give him the Vail give her the Dart. Give him the vail that he may cover The red Cheeks of a rivall'd Lover Asham'd that our worl'd now can show Nests of new Seraphims here below Give her the Dart for it is she Fair youth shoots both thy shaft and Thee Say all ye wise and well-pierc'd hearts That live and dy amidst her Darts What is 't your tastful spirits do prove In that rare life of her and Love Say and bear witness Sends she not A Seraphim at every shot What Magazins of immortal Arms there shine Heav'ns great Artillery in each'love-spun line Give then the Dart to her who gives the flame Give him the veil who gives the shame But if it be the frequent fate Of worst faults to be fortunate If all 's prescription and proud wrong Hearkens not to an humble song For all the gallantry of him Give me the suffring Seraphim His be the bravery of all those bright things The glowing Cheeks the glistering wings The Rosie hand the radiant Dart Leave her alone the Flaming Heart Leave her that and thou shalt leave her Not one loose shaft but Love's whole Quiver For in Love's Field was never found A Nobler weapon then a wound Love's Passives are his Activ'st part The wounded is the wounding heart O Heart the equal poise of Love 's both parts Big alike with Wounds and Darts Live in these conquering Leave 's Live all the same And walk through all Tongues one Triumphant flame Live here great Heart and love and dye and kill And bleed and wound and yield and conquer still Let this immortal Life where e'r it comes Walk in a croud of Loves and Martyrdomes Let mystick Deaths wait on 't and wise souls be The Love-slain witnesses of this life of thee O sweet incendiary shew here thy Art Upon this Carcass of a hard cold Heart Let all thy scatter'd shafts of Light that play Among the Leaves of thy large Books of day Combin'd against this Brest at once break in And take away from me my self and sin This Gracious Robbery shall thy bounty be And my best fortunes such fair spoils of me O thou undaunted Daughter of Desires By all thy Dow'r of Lights and Fires By all the Eagle in thee all the Dove By all thy Lives and Deaths of Love By thy large draughts of intellectual day And by thy thirsts of Love more large then they By all thy brim-fill'd Bowls of fierce desire By thy last mornings draught of liquid Fire By the full Kingdom of that final kiss That seiz'd thy parting Soul and seal'd thee his By all the Heav'ns thou hast in him Fair Sister of the Seraphim By all of Him we have in Thee Leave nothing of my Self in me Let me so read thy life that I Unto all life of mine may dy A Song LOrd when the sense of thy sweet Grace Sends up my Soul to seek thy Face Thy Blessed Eyes breed such desire I dye in Love's delicious Fire O Love I am thy Sacrifice Be still Triumphant Blessed Eyes Still shine on me fair Suns that I Still may behold though still I dye Second part Though still I dye I live again Still longing so to be still slain So gainful is such loss of breath I dye even in desire of death Still live in me this loving strife Of living Death and dying Life For while thou sweetly slayest me Dead to my self I live in thee To Mistrses M. R. Councel concerning her Choise DEar Heav'n-designed Soul Amongst the rest Of Suiters that besiege your Maiden brest Why may not I My fortune try And venture to speak one good word Not for my self alas but for my dearer Lord You 'ave seen already in this lower sphear Of Froth and Bubbles what to look for here Say gentle Soul what can you find But painted shapes Peacocks and Apes Illustrious Flies Guilded Dunghils Glorious Lyes Goodly surmises And deep disguises Oaths of Water Words of Wind Truth bids me say 't is time you cease to Trust Your Soul to any son of Dust. 'T is time you listen to a braver Love Which from above Calls you up higher And bids you come And choose your room Among his own fair sons of fire Where you among The Golden throng That watches at his Palace doors May pass along And follow those fair Stars of yours Stars much too fair and pure to wait upon The false smiles of a sublunary Sun Sweet let me Prophesie that at last 't will prove Your wary Love Lays up his purer and more precious vows And means them for a far more worthy Spouse Then this world of Lies can give you Ev'n for him with whom nor cost Nor love nor labour can be lost Him who never will deceive you Let not my Lord the Mighty Lover Of souls disdain that I discover The hidden Art Of his high stratagem to win your heart It was his Heav'nly Art Kindly to cross you In your mistaken Love That at the next remove Thence he might toss you And strike your troubled heart Home to himself to hide it in his Brest The bright ambrosial Nest Of Love of Life and everlasting Rest. Happy mistake That thus shall wake Your wise soul never to be won Now with a love below the Sun Your first choice fails O when you choose agen May it not be among the sons of men ALEXIAS The Complaint of the forsaken wife of Saint Alexis The First ELEGY I Late the Roman Youth 's lov'd praise and pride Whom long none could obtain though thousands try'd Lo here am left alas For my lost
mate T' embrace my Tears and kiss an unkind Fate Sure in my early woe Stars were at strife And try'd to make a Widow e'r a Wife Nor can I tell and this new Tears doth breed In what strange path my Lord 's fair footsteps bleed O knew I where he wander'd I should see Some solace in my sorrow's certainty I 'd send my woes in words should weep for me Who knows how powrful well-writ pray'rs would be Sending's too slow a word my self would fly Who knows my own heart's woes so well as I But how shall I steal hence Alexis thou Ah thou thy self alas has taught me how Love too that leads thee would lend thee the wings To bear me harmless through the hardest things And where Love lends the wing and leads the way What dangers can there be dare say me nay If I be shipwrackâ—…t Love shall teach to swim If drown'd sweet is the death indur'd for him The noted sea shall change his name with me I 'mongst the blest Stars a new name shall be And sure where Lovers make their watry Graves The weeping Mariner will augment the waves For who so hard but passing by that way Will take acquaintance of my woes and say Here 't was the Roman Maid found a hard fate While through the world she sought her wandring Mate Here perisht she poor heart Heav'ns be my vows As true to me as she was to her Spouse O live so rare a love live and in thee The too frail life of femal constancy Farewel and shine fair soul shine there above Firm in thy Crown as here fast in thy Love There thy lost fugitive thou hast found at last Be happy and for ever hold him fast The Second ELEGY THough all the Joys I had fled hence with thee Unkind yet are my Tears still true to me I 'm wedded o'r again since thou art gone Nor couldst thou cruel leave me quite alone Alexis's Widdow now is sorrow's wife With him shall I weep out my weary life Welcome my sad sweet Mate Now have I got At last a constant Love that leaves me not Firm he as thou art false nor need my crys Thus vex the Earth and tear the Skies For him alas ne'r shall I need to be Troublesome to the World thus as for thee For thee I talk to Trees with silent Groves Expostulate my woes and much-wrong'd loves Hills and relentless Rocks or if there be Things that in hardness more allude to thee To these I talk in Tears and tell my pain And answer too for them in Tears again How oft have I wept out the weary Sun My watry hour-Glass hath old time out-run O I am Learned grown poor Love and I Have studied over all Astrology I 'm perfect in Heav'ns state with every Star My skilful grief is grown familiar Rise fairest of those fires what e'r thou be Whose Rosie beam shall point my Sun to me Such as the Sacred Light that er'st did bring The Eastern Princes to their infant King O rise pure Lamp and lend thy Golden ray That wary Love at last may find his way The Third ELEGY RIch churlish Land that hid'st so long in thee My Treasures rich alas by robbing me Needs must my Miseries owe that man a spite Who e'r he be was the first wandring Knight O had he ne'r been at that cruel cost Nature's Virginity had ne'r been lost Seas had not been rebuk't by saucy Oars But lain lock't up safe in their sacred shores Men had not spurn'd at Mountains nor made wars With Rocks nor bold hands struck the World's strong bars Nor lost in too large bounds our little Rome Full sweetly with it self had dwelt at home My poor Alexis then in peaceful life Had under some low roof lov'd his plain wife But now ah me from where he has no foes He flies and into wilful exile goes Cruel return or tell the reason why Thy dearest Parents have deserv'd to dye And I what is my crime I cannot tell Unless it be a crime t' have lov'd too well If Heats of Holier Love and high Desire Make big thy fair Brest with immortal Fire What needs my virgin Lord fly thus from me Who only wish his virgin Wife to be Witness chaste Heav'ns no happier vows I know Then to a virgin Grave untouch't to goe Love's truest knot by Venus is not ty'd Nor do embraces only make a Bride The Queen of Angels and men chaste as you Was Maiden-Wife and Maiden-Mother too Cecilia Glory of her Name and Blood With happy gain her Maiden vows made good The lusty Bridegroom made appoach young man Take heed said she take heed Valerian My bosome Guard a Spirit great and strong Stands arm'd to shield me from all wanton wrong My Chastity is Sacred and my Sleep Wakeful her dear vows undefil'd to keep Pallas bears Arms forsooth and should there be No fortress built for true Virginity No gapâ—… Gorgon this none like the rest Of your learn'd Lyes here you 'l find no such jest I 'm yours O were my God my Christ so too I 'd know no name of Love on Earth but you He yields and straight Baptiz'd obtains the Grace To gaze on the fair souldier 's Glorious face Both mixt at last their Blood in one rich Bed Of Rosie Martydome twice Married O burn our Hymen bright in such high Flame Thy Torch terrestrial Love has here no name How sweet the mutual yoke of Man and Wife When Holy fires maintain Love's Heav'nly life But I so help me Heav'n my hopes to see When Thousands sought my Love lov'd none but Thee Still as their vain Tears my firm vows did try Alexis he alone is mine said I Half true alas half false proves that poor Line Alexis is alone but is not mine Description of a Religious House and condition of Life Out of BARCLAY NO roofs of Gold o'r riotous Tables shining Whole Days and Suns devour'd with endless Dining No Sails of Tyrian Silk proud pavements sweeping Nor ivory couches costlyer slumbers keeping False Lights of flâ—…iring Gemms tumultuous joys Halls full of flattering Men and frisking Boys Whate'r false shows of short and slippery good Mix the mad sons of Men in mutual blood But Walks and unshorn Woods and Souls just so Unforc't and genuine but not shady tho Our Lodgings hard and homely as our Fare That Chaste and Cheap as the few Clothes we wear Those course and negligent as the natural Locks Of these loose Groves rough as th' unpolisht Rocks A hasty portion of prescribed sleep Obedient slumbers that can wake and weep And Sing and Sigh and Work and Sleep again Still rowling a round Sphear of still-returning pain Hands full of hearty labours do much that more they may And work for work not wages let to morrows New drops wash off the sweat of this days sorrows A long and daily dying-life which breaths A respiration of reviving deaths But neither are there those ignoble stings That nip the bosome