The Phanseys of William Cavendish Marquis of Newcastle addressed to Margaret Lucas and her Letters in reply: Edited by Douglas Grant |
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| 7. | 7 Hymen's Ancorett |
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 | The Phanseys of William Cavendish Marquis of Newcastle |  |
12
7
Hymen's Ancorett
Like an old Soldier in Queene Venus' warres,
My wounds of love turn'd all to mangl'd Scarrs,
Love's broaken speere and bowed sworde doe meet
As offrings att your Sacred Alter's feete.
My discharg'd Pistoll, Rusty Armes, though stronge,
Dismounted Cannon, here doth lie alonge;
And all Love's Magazine, that's thought divine,
I Sacrifise here att love's flaminge Shrine:
As all sweet powders, Essence, sweet balls, Oyles,
Rich Cloaths, Fethers, Ribbans, and all Love's Spoyles
I here give Up; all Poetry renounce,
Gainst phansi'd Ryme or Verse I here pronounce.
Though your maim'd Soldier, Venus, scorne to begg
So much of you to buy a woodne legge,
Nor Pention from love's County; I'le be stript
Starke naked first, so to my parishe whipt.
You have a Shrine but are no Saynte, they say;
I have a Hymen's Saynt to whom I'le pray.
A Glorified body shee doth holde,
So Purslaine-like, so Cristall-puer her molde,
As not a spott of Sinne on her doth faule;
Most thinkes shee's free of what's Origenall.
There dropinge Hymen's beads, with homage bowe
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Your holy Ancorett to be alone
Within your Marrige walls, thus two's made one;
And so with holy rights more pleasure have
Then Soles that's damn'd for it, yett ours Wee'le save;
So have two Heavens by Infused grace,
See you heere, and so God there, face to face.
Beatificall Vision, thus wee'le doe,
Sav'd by you here, and in the next world too.
| The Phanseys of William Cavendish Marquis of Newcastle | |