Mel Heliconium or, Poeticall Honey, Gathered out of The Weeds of Parnassus ... By Alexander Rosse |
 | I. |
ATALANTA.
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| II. |
| III. |
| IV. |
| V. |
| VI. |
| VII. |
 | CHAP. I. A Mel Heliconium |  |
ATALANTA.
43
We're all in Atalanta's case,
We run apace,
Untill our wandring eyes behold
The glitt'ring gold:
And then we lose in vanity
Our race, and our virginity.
We run apace,
Untill our wandring eyes behold
The glitt'ring gold:
And then we lose in vanity
Our race, and our virginity.
Gods holy Temple we pollute,
And prostitute
Our souls to foul Hippomenes,
With all boldnesse;
So having lost humanity,
Fierce Lyons we become to be.
And prostitute
Our souls to foul Hippomenes,
With all boldnesse;
So having lost humanity,
Fierce Lyons we become to be.
And then our heads we must submit,
To curb and bit
Of mother earth, whose heavie Wain
We draw with pain:
And yet we cannot cease to draw
Earth, till earth hide us in her maw.
To curb and bit
Of mother earth, whose heavie Wain
We draw with pain:
And yet we cannot cease to draw
Earth, till earth hide us in her maw.
O that we could our sins deplore,
And kill the Boare
Of wanton lusts, e're we hence go
To shades below:
O that our rocky hearts could rend,
And from them Chrystall Rivers send.
And kill the Boare
Of wanton lusts, e're we hence go
To shades below:
O that our rocky hearts could rend,
And from them Chrystall Rivers send.
O God, all filthy lusts destroy,
Which me annoy,
And give my flinty heart a blow,
That tears may flow:
O let me not thy house profane,
Which thou hast purchas'd with thy pain.
Which me annoy,
And give my flinty heart a blow,
That tears may flow:
O let me not thy house profane,
Which thou hast purchas'd with thy pain.
| CHAP. I. A Mel Heliconium | |