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 Despairing Lover.
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 | The History of Polindor and Flostella |  |
The Despairing Lover.
How like's that wretch't, unhappy Lover,Whose Travels nought but scorns discover,
To the chas'd Deer; their Dwellings are
Like-rac'd, and sadly alike they fare.
As Wilderness his Fancy shewes
About him, which wild thoughts compose.
Those Dogs that hunt him, lean Dispair,
Grief, Sorrow; fierce th' whole Kennell are:
Killingly fleet, well-nos'd for scent,
Too True, too Bloody-diligent:
Whose mouthes spit Venome, from whose eyes
Quick Balls of raging wild-fire flyes.
Those dismall Hornes that storm about
His eares, and ring his Funerall out,
Those last disdainfull breath'd Checks, came
From his o're-coy, Heart-breaking Dame;
Made terribler, far far more shrill
Through Fancy's doubling Eccho still.
The frightfull Hunter's glance, call'd View
(Whilst through the Road or Lawn pursue)
Seem's th' oft imagin'd Vision, forme,
Ot's Doom-fac'd Mistress; that she-storme.
That Shaft sheath'd in his side. Desire,
Worst-pointed with a flame of fire;
Which drinks Life-spirits, feeds upon
Blood, yea, fries th' marrow through the bone,
Full-blown with sighs, and sobbings oft:
Imbost with rage, and heat of thought.
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Has run, and so long held the Chase
As faintest gasping hopes supply
With fleeting breath; when 'midst the Cry,
No Comforts cooler stream relieving,
For Soyl; nor Reasons Bay help giving:
With Stag-like tears he falling dyes,
Scorns Triumph, and Love's Sacrifice.
| The History of Polindor and Flostella | |