The Countesse of Mountgomeries Urania :: :: University of Virginia Library

My heart is lost, what can I now expect,
An euening faire after a drowsie day?
Alas, fond Phant'sie, this is not the way,
To cure a mourning heart, or salue neglect:

They who should helpe, doe me, and helpe reiect,
Embracing loose desires, and wanton play,
While wanton base delights, doe beare the sway,
And impudency raignes without respect.

O Cupid let they Mother know her shame,
'Tis time for her to leaue this youthfull flame,
Which doth dishonor her, is ages blame,
And takes away the greatnes of thy name.

Thou God of Loue, she only Queene of lust,
Yet striues by weakning thee, to be vniust.

2.

Late in the Forrest I did Cupid see
Cold, wett, and crying, he had lost his way,
And being blinde was farther like to stray;
Which sight, a kind compassion bred in me.

I kindly tooke, and dry'd him, while that he,
(Poore Child) complain'd, he sterued was with stay
And pin'd for want of his accustom'd prey,
For none in that wilde place his Host would be.

I glad was of his finding, thinking sure,
This seruice should my freedome still procure,
And in my armes I tooke him then vnharm'd,

Carrying him safe vnto a Myrtle bowre,
But in the way he made me, feele his powre,
Burning my heart, who had him kindly warm'd.

3.

Ivno still iealous of her husband Ioue,
Descended from aboue, on earth to try,
Whether she there could find his chosen Loue,
Which made him from the Heau'ns so often flye.

Close by the place where I for shade did lye,
She chafing came, but when shee saw me moue,
Haue you not seene this way (said she) to hye
One, in whom vertue neuer grownde did proue?

Hee, in whom Loue doth breed, to stirre more hate,
Courting a wanton Nimph for his delight;
His name is Iupiter, my Lord, by Fate,
Who for her, leaues Me, Heauen, his Throne, and light.

I saw him not (said I) although heere are
Many, in whose hearts, Loue hath made like warre,

4.

When I beheld the Image of my deare,
With greedy lookes mine eies would that way bend,
Feare, and Desire, did inwardly contend;
Feare to be mark'd, Desire to draw still neere.

And in my soule a Spirit would appeare,
Which boldnes warranted, and did pretend
To be my Genius; yet I durst not lend,
My eyes in trust, where others seem'd so cleare.

Then did I search, from whence this danger rose,
If such vnworthynesse in me did rest,
As my staru'd eyes must not with sight be blest,
When Iealousie her poyson did disclose.

Yet in my heart vnseene of Iealous eye,
The truer Image shall in tryumph lye.

5.

Like to huge Clowdes of smoake which well may hide
The face of fairest day, though for a while:
So wrong may shaddow me, till truth doe smile,
And Iustice Sunne-like hath those vapours tyde.

O doating Time, canst thou for shame let slid,
So many minutes, while ills doe beguile
Thy age, and worth, and falshoods thus defile
Thy auncient good, where now but crosses bide?

Looke but once vp, and leaue thy toyling pace
And on my miseries thy dimme eye place,
Goe not so fast, but giue my care some ende,

Turne not thy glasse (alas) vnto my ill
Since thou with sand it canst not so farre fill,
But to each one my sorrowes will extend.

6.

O that no day would euer more appeare,
But clowdy night to gouerne this sad place,
Nor light from Heauen these haples roomes to grace
Since that light's shadow'd which my Loue holds deare.

Let thickest mists in enuy master here,
And Sunne-borne day for malice show no face,
Disdaining light, where Cupid, and the race
Of Louers are despisd, and shame shines cleere.

Let me be darke, since barr'd of my chiefe light,
And wounding Iealousie commands by might,
But Stage-play-like disguised pleasures giue:

To me it seemes, as ancient fictions make
The Starrs, all fashions, and all shapes partake,
While in my thoughts true forme of Loue shall liue.

7.

No time, no roome, no thought, or writing can
Giue rest, or quiet to my louing heart,
Or can my memory, or Phant'sie scan,
The measure of my still renewing smart.

Yet whould I not (deare Loue) thou should'st depart,
But let my passions as they first began,
Rule, wound, and please, it is thy choysest Art,
To giue disquiet, which seemes ease to man.

When all alone, I thinke vpon thy paine,
How thou dost trauell our best selues to gaine,
Then houerly thy lessons I doe learne;

Thinke on thy glory, which shall still ascend,
Vntill the world come to a finall end,
And then shall we thy lasting powre dicerne.

8.

How Glowworme-like the Sun doth now appeare,
Cold beames doe from his glorious face descend
Which shewes his daies, and force draw to an ende,
Or that to leaue taking, his time growes neere.

The day his face did seeme but pale, though cleare,
The reason is, he to the North must end
His light, and warmth must to that climat bend,
Whose frozen parts could not loues heat hold deare

Alas, if thou bright Sunne to part from hence
Grieue so, what must I haplesse leave from thence,
Where thou dost goe my blessing fall attend;

Thou shalt enioy that sight for which I dye,
And in my heart thy fortunes doe enuy,
Yet grieue, I'le loue thee, for this state may 'mend.

9.

My Muse now happy lay thy head to rest,
Sleepe in the quiet of a faithfull loue,
Write you no more, but let the Phant'sies mooue
Some other hearts, wake not to new vnrest.

But if you Study be those thoughts adrest
To truth, which shall eternall goodnes prooue;
Enioying of true ioy the most, and best
The endles gaine which neuer will remoue.

Leaue the discourse of Venus, and her sonne
To young beginners, and their braines inspire
With storyes of great Loue, and from that fire,
Get heat to write the fortunes they haue wonne.

And thus leaue off; what's past shewes you can loue,
Now let your Constancy your Honor proue.