University of Virginia Library

The Morning Visit on his Mistris.

It had been morn, but fairer Celia lay
With Curtaind-eyes, and so contrould the day

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182

When to her sacred shrine, in lovely guise
I came to pay my Morning-sacrifice,

Her Locks (or I might better say) her Rayes
Might from the Delphick Poets purchase prais
Rather then Phæbus beams, they do but light
The night of day, but these make day of night.
A purer red, her Damask Cheeks disclose,
Then when the Sun salutes the bashful Rose:
Or when the morn in crimson Robes arraid
Blushes to think, her night sports were betraid.
Her Lips (but here I want expression,)
For nothing, e're could make comparison
Were seal'd, as if they pleasure took in this,
That modestly they could each other Kiss.
On which such balmy drops of dew arise,
As ne're distill'd, from Trees in Paradise;
Whereat mine easie Genius, prompted me,
To tast the Fruit, of this Forbidden Tree.

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183

Twixt Eve's, and this sort, here the difference lies,
By that, Flesh fell, but this doth make it rise.
Now, mine encourag'd hand, presumes to Touch,
Her downy Breasts, whose rising hills, are such,
That every Grace might court them for her Sphear,
And all the Muses joy, t'inhabit there.
In whose blest vallyes, Love and Beauty lye,
And there decree, the Murthers, of her Eye,
Where, now, my willing hand (in fond amaze,)
Would seem to dwell, & circle in this maze,
But curious Fancy, will not be confin'd;
How well Love finds the way, though he be blind!

From thence, I wander ore the neighbring Hill,
Whose bottom founts such odorous streams distill,
As Cupid, tyr'd, with chasing Lovers hearts
Comes there, to bath, himself, and cool his Darts:

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184

And Venus, when her Doves unharness'd were,
Hath whipt 'em thither, for to Water there.

Here's the Elysian Fields! the happy Grove,
Where beauty banquets, with the god of love!
Whose shade, with violets strew'd, and Lillies spread,
Do seem a Chaplet, for her Maiden-Head:
Where, after feasting, Venus, with her Son,
Sports, on the banks, of this same Helicon;
And Love-knots tye, (what pretty sport th'ave found?)
With grass, that grows upon this holy ground.
Which, curling round Loves fingers (pretty Plot!)
He shews his Mother, what fine rings h'as got,
And kissing, did intreat her, to bestow,
One single thread to make a string for's bow:
And ask't, (as if the Lad could somthing do)
Whether, he might not have that quiver, too.
But Venus frown'd, & with the Flowers by.
She whipt the Boy, for's waggish Knavery,
And sharply told him, with Majestick Grace,
'Twas Sacriledge, to take, from such a Place,
And though to see or touch, she did approve,
Yet for such tricks she'd banish him that Grove:

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185

So, took him by the hand, & thence they go
And wanton on the melting Field of Snow:
And when th'had kist each other, and were Friends,
Venus (to make the Little Rogue amends)
Tol'd him, that, for his Bow she would allow,
The half bent Circle, in my Celia's Brow;
And, when he was resolv'd, to slay tame Hearts,
The Glances, of her eyes, should serve, for Darts:
And for his string (if he must needs have two)
Her locks would yield him strings, and fetters too.

Who, being thus provided needs would try,
To wound her, with her own Artillery
For well he knew, she did defie, and scorn,
The Shafts, which were, within his Quiver, worn:
(For, being baffeld, by her, on a Day,
He, angry, threw his Bow, and all away:)
But, since he's better furnisht, dares defie,
His former Foes, and sue for Victory:

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186

But wary Venus, did the Fight defer,
And caus'd her Son, to make a Truce, with Her:
Which, being enter'd, Love & She Combine
To Conquer All, and therefore do conjoyn,
Their single Forces, and their Power in One,
Wherefore—take heed! for All the world's undone.