The English and Latin Poems of Sir Robert Ayton Edited by Charles B. Gullans |
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 | The English and Latin Poems of Sir Robert Ayton |  |
149
11. [A Protestation]
My heart Exhale thy greife
With an Eternall grone
And never sease to sigh and mourne
Till life or love begone.
With an Eternall grone
And never sease to sigh and mourne
Till life or love begone.
Thy life is crost with love,
Thy love is loathed breath,
Thou heats thyselfe to live such lyffe,
A life even such is death.
Thy love is loathed breath,
Thou heats thyselfe to live such lyffe,
A life even such is death.
Resolve then one of two
And patiently agrie
Either to live a loveless life
Or els to love and dye.
And patiently agrie
Either to live a loveless life
Or els to love and dye.
But this thou canst not doe
And that doth the but greive,
Thou canst not live vnless thou love
Nor love vnless thou live.
And that doth the but greive,
Thou canst not live vnless thou love
Nor love vnless thou live.
Soe thou must live and love,
Live wretched, love disgrac'd,
Disgrac'd by her in whome thy life,
In whome thy love was plac'd.
Live wretched, love disgrac'd,
Disgrac'd by her in whome thy life,
In whome thy love was plac'd.
O thrisse vnhappy heart,
Of life and love forlorne!
In what strange postures was the starrs
The houre that thou was borne?
Of life and love forlorne!
In what strange postures was the starrs
The houre that thou was borne?
150
Since then there bad aspects
Did all conspire in one
To make a man whose luck should be
To be belov'd of none.
Did all conspire in one
To make a man whose luck should be
To be belov'd of none.
And when they fram'd they saint,
They did decree above
That even her shaddow should infect
A world of hearts with love.
They did decree above
That even her shaddow should infect
A world of hearts with love.
Of those, ah, thou was one,
O that thou hadest not beene,
But either had bin voyde of sense
Or els depriv'd of eene.
O that thou hadest not beene,
But either had bin voyde of sense
Or els depriv'd of eene.
And yet I would not soe,
Noe, noe, I wish that thou
Had lov'd her many yeares agoe
And seene her long ere now.
Noe, noe, I wish that thou
Had lov'd her many yeares agoe
And seene her long ere now.
For this I must confess,
Although I live in strife,
I count the first day of my love
The first day of my life.
Although I live in strife,
I count the first day of my love
The first day of my life.
If I had made a choice
Of some vnworthy Dame,
I might perchance have curst the Sunn
That shyn'd to see the same.
Of some vnworthy Dame,
I might perchance have curst the Sunn
That shyn'd to see the same.
But since in the, my deare,
Such rare perfections lye,
As might make Cupid dye for love
If he had Eyes as I,
Such rare perfections lye,
As might make Cupid dye for love
If he had Eyes as I,
I must confess the truth
Thy love bringes life to mee,
And I esteeme him as starke dead
That lives vnloving thee.
Thy love bringes life to mee,
151
That lives vnloving thee.
I never was my owne
But since I thought mee thyne,
And I would thinke I had no heart
If that my heart were myne.
But since I thought mee thyne,
And I would thinke I had no heart
If that my heart were myne.
I sacrafic'd it once
Vnto thy sacred Eyes,
And aye since syne I thinke it lives
Because for the it dyes.
Vnto thy sacred Eyes,
And aye since syne I thinke it lives
Because for the it dyes.
Now this to thee perchance
A paradoxe doth prove,
Yet none mistrusts such misteryes
But Heriticks in love.
A paradoxe doth prove,
Yet none mistrusts such misteryes
But Heriticks in love.
Lov'd thou as well as I
Thou would confess the same,
But thou are not well purifyed
With loves refyning flame.
Thou would confess the same,
But thou are not well purifyed
With loves refyning flame.
Thou takes as greate delight
To murder with dissdaine,
As others take delight to save
An innocent vnslaine.
To murder with dissdaine,
As others take delight to save
An innocent vnslaine.
And yet disdaine mee still,
My soule shall still abide
Content to saile the seas of love
Against both winde and tyde,
My soule shall still abide
Content to saile the seas of love
Against both winde and tyde,
And ever while thy grace
Some kinde of succours send,
My sorrow shall be like my love
Where it begon, its end.
Some kinde of succours send,
My sorrow shall be like my love
Where it begon, its end.
152
Soe shall I oblige the
That thou shall either be
The most ingrate that ever liv'd
Or thou shall pitty mee,
That thou shall either be
The most ingrate that ever liv'd
Or thou shall pitty mee,
For soe resolv'd a love,
And soe dispaird a paine,
Might oblige stockes, might oblidge stones
To pity mee againe.
And soe dispaird a paine,
Might oblige stockes, might oblidge stones
To pity mee againe.
Behold while I did weepe
The cloudes did melt in teares,
The whispering windes to heare mee mourne
Did change there mouthes in eares,
The cloudes did melt in teares,
The whispering windes to heare mee mourne
Did change there mouthes in eares,
Yea, even Appollos selfe
Or'e vail'd his face for woe
And thought it horrour to be hold
A man tormented soe.
Or'e vail'd his face for woe
And thought it horrour to be hold
A man tormented soe.
Whilst thou still like thy selfe,
Still cruell and vnkinde
Did thinke it was thy beauties praise
To see thy patient pind.
Still cruell and vnkinde
Did thinke it was thy beauties praise
To see thy patient pind.
But pitie, pitie now
Not mine but thy disgrace
And suffer not a Tigers heart
To wrong an Angells face.
Not mine but thy disgrace
And suffer not a Tigers heart
To wrong an Angells face.
Behold thou'rt faire, thou'rt wise,
Thou'rt good, thou'rt all, what then
If cruelty convert those gifts
In monsters into men?
Thou'rt good, thou'rt all, what then
If cruelty convert those gifts
In monsters into men?
153
Were thy perfections more
As more they cannot be
Since there infinitnes disdaines
Both number and degree,
As more they cannot be
Since there infinitnes disdaines
Both number and degree,
Yet if they were not all
At Clemencies command,
They were but like a naked sword
Put in a maddmans hand,
At Clemencies command,
They were but like a naked sword
Put in a maddmans hand,
For this is out of doubt,
That who soe should the see,
Should straight way love and loving straight
Should thy poore Martyr be.
That who soe should the see,
Should straight way love and loving straight
Should thy poore Martyr be.
I wishe not to be one
That those adventures prove,
I wish not to be Canoniz'd
In Kallendars of love,
That those adventures prove,
I wish not to be Canoniz'd
In Kallendars of love,
Though my affections wings
Might soe Ambitious be,
Yet I beleive there is noe blanke
Left in that booke for mee.
Might soe Ambitious be,
Yet I beleive there is noe blanke
Left in that booke for mee.
I rather wish to live
To testify my truth
And by good service to deserve
The recompense of Ruth.
To testify my truth
And by good service to deserve
The recompense of Ruth.
Yet if there be noe way
To reconcile this strife
But by the ruyne of my love
Or shippwrack of my life,
To reconcile this strife
But by the ruyne of my love
Or shippwrack of my life,
Content I am, sweet Nimph,
Even with my dearest blood,
To seale th'indenture of my death
If that can doe the good.
Even with my dearest blood,
154
If that can doe the good.
Mean whyle I live like one
That waites for deaths decree
And thinke that I shall gaine my life
When I shall los't for the,
That waites for deaths decree
And thinke that I shall gaine my life
When I shall los't for the,
For I attest t'the roundes
That runn aboute above
I rather dye for love of thee
Then live for others love.
That runn aboute above
I rather dye for love of thee
Then live for others love.
Though my misshapp in love
Might cause mee to disspayre,
Yet hope assures mee thou art meeke
As well as thou art fayre.
Might cause mee to disspayre,
Yet hope assures mee thou art meeke
As well as thou art fayre.
Methought that in thyne Eyes
There shynd some beames of grace,
And may not love lodge in thy heart
As well as in thy face?
There shynd some beames of grace,
And may not love lodge in thy heart
As well as in thy face?
I will beleive the best
And thinke that thou art myne
As well as thou may safely say
That I am only thyne.
And thinke that thou art myne
As well as thou may safely say
That I am only thyne.
| The English and Latin Poems of Sir Robert Ayton | |