 | The poems of William Habington |  |
21
In CASTARA,
All fortunes.
Ye glorious wits, who finde then Parian stoneA nobler quarry to build trophies on,
Purchast 'gainst conquer'd time, go court loud fame,
He wins it, who but sings Castara's name?
Aspiring soules, who grow but in a Spring,
Forc't by the warmth of some indulgent King:
Know if Castara smile: I dwell in it,
And vie for glory with the Favourit.
Ye sonnes of avarice, who but to share
Vncertaine treasure with a certaine care,
Tempt death in th' horrid Ocean: I, when ere
I but approach her, find the Indies there.
Heaven brightest Saint, kinde to my vowes, made thee
Of all ambition courts, th' Epitome.
| The poems of William Habington | |