The Shorter Poems of Ralph Knevet :: :: University of Virginia Library

How did my sorowes mount above
My hopes, and threate
Me to defeate,
While I did wander in a grove,
Through crooked pathes of doubts, and feares,
Where little light of joy appeares.

On neither hand I could descry,
A beacon bright,
To sett mee right,
No pillar, or dumbe Mercury,
Appear'd to answere my desires:
I nothing saw but foolish fires.

Sometimes I thought to rest, and stay,
Conceiveing it,
Better to sitt,
Then more and more to goe astray:
But then I found, that I could have,
No resting place, but in the grave.

Fortune.
While thus perplex'd I did abide,
A beauto'us Dame,
Unto mee came,
And profferd for to bee my guide,
Then I, who long since wont t'admire,
The fairest objects of desire,

357

Her proffer gladly did embrace,
Not doting on,
Proportion,
Or any beauty in her face,
But hopeing that her prudencye,
Should sett mee right, that went awrye.

Shee with Her cinque foyl'd Lilly prest,
my rougher hand,
And did command,
I should chase terrours from my brest,
For shee would mee conduct in peace,
Unto a place of joy, and ease.

Shee led, I followed close behind,
But ere wee had
Three furlongs made.
I did perceive my guide was blind,
Deepe holes, steepe Hills, and pathwayes glaz'd
With slipp'ry ice, made mee amaz'd.

Then I conceiv'd it better farre,
To wander still,
At mine owne will,
Then follow such an errant starre,
Wherefore I presently withdrew,
And bade my leader blind adieu.

Pleasure.

I had no sooner taken leave,
When t'was my fate,
To meete a Mate,
Whose lookes seem'd destin'd to deceive,
Her face, her dresse, might even have mov'd
A second Joseph to have lov'd.

358

Her hayres, in a disorderd order,
Disheveld hung,
With tresses long.
Her temples circled in a border,
Of rubyes, pearles, and emraulds greene,
Declar'd her to be beautyes Queene.

Her mantel breath'd Arabian fumes,
And seemd t'envuy,
The precious dye
Of thee, immortall Pheenix's plumes:
Shee woo'd mee to submit to her,
And then I should no longer erre.

Then shee mee to a mountaine led,
Where flowers grew,
Of every hue,
And Trees of pleasure their armes spred,
Where did melodious Birds rejoyce
Admir'd for colour, and for voyce.

This Hill appear'd so exquisite,
That now I thought,
I had found out,
The very palace of delight.
Now no more errours did I feare,
Bicause I thought my rest was neare.

With mickle joy I did ascend,
This pleasant Mount,
And did account,
I was come to my journeys end;
But horride spectacles did then
Make mee myself wish backe age'n.

359

For the swolne Toade, and th' hisseing Snake,
With speckled hides,
Upon all sides
Did crawle, and their vagaryes make,
Who did their livide poyson spue,
Upon all flowers which there grew.

These objects caus'd mee to make halte,
While this coy Dame,
Cry'd fye for shame,
And did my lacke of courage fault:
Shee drew mee on, but then a cry
Did warne mee to returne, or dye.

I heard one cry: returne, returne:
If you proceede,
You are but dead:
Then I beheld the mountaine burne:
For Ætna like, it fire did vomite,
And flames of sulphur issu'd from it.

Then I, with terrour sore aga'st,
My Guide forsooke,
No leave I tooke:
But downe the mountaines side fled fast:
With more haste, then I did ascend
For feare did much my speed amend.

Knowledge.

When I had left this horride place,
I chanc'd to meete
A Lady sweet,
Of sober garbe, and comely grace,
Her eyes were perspicills to find,
The hidden beautyes of her mind.

360

No Torce of flowres, or precious stones,
Did decke her browes,
With glorious showes:
Her beauty needed no additions,
Nor did her will of things approve,
That rather tempte to lust, then love.

She proffered my course to steere,
But I, as one,
Who had misdone,
Through my credulity, did feare
To bring my self to worse estate,
Then I had rashly done of late.

But then my Genius prompted mee,
not to be nice,
But take advice
From Her: then wee did soone aggree,
And shee did mee t'a garden guide,
Where Art, and Nature mastr'yes try'd./

All fruites, and flowers there did grow,
Here birds did warble;
And polish'd marble,
Did streames from his hard intrayles throwe,
Which did perpetually gush,
And made the very cristall blush.

Here statues prais'd the Sculptour's art,
And like things stood,
Of flesh and blood:
Onely the touch serv'd to convert,
Deceiv'd spectatours, who did guesse,
That these were liveing substances.

361

While I admired these delights,
Which seem'd design'd,
To take the mind,
As well as sense: the Dame m'invites
To plucke fine flowres, and fruite to taste;
Whose gentle offer I embrac'd.

But when I had well satisfy'd,
My appetite,
And curious sight;
The Dame did to a porte mee guide,

Grace./

And here another Lady was,
Mee to conduct to a new place.

It to my mind was troublesome,
To leave so soone,
This station,
Which I thought an Elysium:
But yet I was resolv'd t'obey,
Bicause I could not well say nay.

Nor did th' aspect of this last Dame,
lesse good foreshew,
Then I earst knew;
With modesty her cheekes did flame,
Devotion in her eyes did blase:
The mappe of heaven was in her face.

Her faire diportment did mee winne,
And her sweet mine,
Which was divine,
And seem'd an antidote 'gainst sinne:
For it such pow'rfull rayes did cast,
As might have made a Tarquine, chast.

362

I followd Her, and shee mee leades,
into a vale,
unhospitall:
Where thorny shrubbes uprear'd their heads,
And prickeing briers did abound,
Which did my feet and ankles wound.

While that these difficultyes hard,
Procur'd my smart,
And vex'd my heart.
The Lady no good Counsell spar'd,
But still repayr'd my courage weake,
Which ready was to faile, and breake.

To patience shee did mee incite,
And to beare out,
With a mind stout,
This brunt displeasant; that I might
Arrive soone at a place of rest,
Where I should dwell for ever blest.

Then I my spirits recollected,
And in my sorow,
Did comfort borow,
From future joyes, which I expected;
My tedious toyle I did subdue,
Bicause my hopes had blisse in view.

When I had pass'd this dreary vale,
My self I found,
On better ground,
And in aire that was cordiall;
Fresh spirits here did in mee breathe,
My former life was but a death.

363

All things seemd here compos'd, and sett
To please a mind,
From sinne refind:
Order, and beauty here were mett,
No sullen cloude envuy'd the day,
No blustring windes their prankes did play.

Here was such fullnes of delight,
That forepast joyes,
I counted toyes.
And former labours forgott quite;
Here of my God I did request,
To sett up my repose, and rest.