The History of Polindor and Flostella With Other Poems. By I. H. [i.e. John Harington] The third Edition, Revised and much Enlarged |
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THE AUTHORS First DREAM of FLOSTELLA,
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 | The History of Polindor and Flostella |  |
THE AUTHORS First DREAM of FLOSTELLA,
Seen in a Winters Morning, as he rode on Hunting.
Went I this Morn, in cruell sport,To fright the poor Hare from her Fort?
Up-rouze her from the solemn Cell
With horrors of a Fun'rall-knell?
Did Tyrant-I seek others Prize?
My self now made the Sacrifice?
Fates, you are equall, and thou Love;
Like mercy I (just Talio) prove
As meant to others; Torture, Pain;
Dire Scourge! 'tis my reward again.
'Twas She my Huntress was, by th' way,
That ayr'd her so, like Princess May;
Such sweets and beauties scattring round.
Dull Winter seem'd turn'd jolly, Crown'd
With Rose-buds, fragrant breath'd. What Rayes
Then strook our eyes! what wonders blaze,
Sweet'st Lightnings! O, what Charms divine!
Th' ore-coming Glory did define
Some Angel-Form; if Earthly race,
Then Woman, lovely'st woman, 'twas;
Or rare I know not what: she's All
We Men admire, perfection call.
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While th' sun (cloud muffled scout) close lyes,
Asham'd on's gaudier blasing so,
Those Copper-rayes to hers in shew:
Perhaps, some Love-dart fear'd, least he
By th' jealous Morne forsaken be;
Or, indeed struck, with amorous head
Jog'd on, and so went sick to Bed:
The world not needing beg th' old Sun,
Since from her eyes flam'd Two for one,
No Christall frost worke deck'd the ground
T'intice her foot, whose Beamings round
That Morne disperst, perhaps ore-aw'd
The glaz'd Earth, Congelations thawd.
Her pace Court-measure, gratefull'st showd;
Whilst through her Breath, th' Aire, spicy, good,
Purg'd wholsome seem'd: as Goblins light,
Fogs shun her Purity, take flight.
Ten thousand Cupids came along,
Playing in her eyes, her cheeks, or hung
Oth' Brest, Lips, Hayr; incamp'd appeare,
In Bright and loveli'st Musters, there,
As with their quiver'd Hoast would peirce
All Hearts, and conquer th' Universe:
A moving world of wonder shewing;
Heaven of flesh all Joyes bestowing.
Twas fairely-sweetly-cruell Shee,
That chas'd and seiz'd my liberty;
That let whole Mint of lightnings fly,
Heap of Granadoes from her Eye,
Dart-magazine, that shot through mine;
I saw their flaming points to shine
All th' way they came, when, through the Eye,
Th' heart bled in kindest sympathy:
I hop'd, fear'd, mus'd (Non-self'd, confesse)
Strange Seeing Road! what wonders presse
Through th' eyes glaz'd Organs, Souls possess!
| The History of Polindor and Flostella | |