Poems With the Muses Looking-Glasse. Amyntas. Jealous Lovers. Arystippus. By Tho: Randolph ... The fourth Edition enlarged [by Thomas Randolph] |
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An Elegy upon the Lady Venetian Digby.
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An Elegy upon the Lady Venetian Digby.
Death
, whol'd not change prerogatives with thee
That dost such rapes, yet maist not question'd be?
Here cease thy wanton lust, be satisfi'd,
Hope not a second, and so fair a bride.
Where was her Mars, whose valiant arms did hold
This Venus once, that thou durst be so bold
By thy too nimble theft? I know 'twas fear,
Lest he should come, that would have rescued her.
Monster confesse, didst thou not blushing stand,
And thy pale cheek turnd red to touch her hand?
Did she not lightning like strike sudden heat
Through thy cold limbs, and thaw thy frost to sweat?
Well since thou hast her, use her kindly, Death,
And in requitall of such preious breath
Watch sentinell to guard her, do not see
The worms thy rivals, for the gods will be.
Remember Paris, for whose pettier sin,
The Troian gates let the stout Grecian in:
So when time ceases, (whose unthrifty hand
Ha's now almost consum'd his stock of sand)
Myriads of Angels shall in Armies come,
And fetch (proud ravisher) their Helen home.
And to revenge this rape, thy other store
Thou shalt resign too, and shalt steal no more,
Till then fair Ladies (for you now are fair,
But till her death I fear'd your just despair,)
Fetch all the spiees that Arabia yeelds,
Distill the choysest flowers of the fields?
And when in one their best perfections meet
Embalm nor course that she may make them sweet.
Whilst for an Epitaph upon her stone
I cannot write, but I must weep her one.
That dost such rapes, yet maist not question'd be?
Here cease thy wanton lust, be satisfi'd,
Hope not a second, and so fair a bride.
Where was her Mars, whose valiant arms did hold
This Venus once, that thou durst be so bold
By thy too nimble theft? I know 'twas fear,
Lest he should come, that would have rescued her.
Monster confesse, didst thou not blushing stand,
And thy pale cheek turnd red to touch her hand?
Did she not lightning like strike sudden heat
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Well since thou hast her, use her kindly, Death,
And in requitall of such preious breath
Watch sentinell to guard her, do not see
The worms thy rivals, for the gods will be.
Remember Paris, for whose pettier sin,
The Troian gates let the stout Grecian in:
So when time ceases, (whose unthrifty hand
Ha's now almost consum'd his stock of sand)
Myriads of Angels shall in Armies come,
And fetch (proud ravisher) their Helen home.
And to revenge this rape, thy other store
Thou shalt resign too, and shalt steal no more,
Till then fair Ladies (for you now are fair,
But till her death I fear'd your just despair,)
Fetch all the spiees that Arabia yeelds,
Distill the choysest flowers of the fields?
And when in one their best perfections meet
Embalm nor course that she may make them sweet.
Whilst for an Epitaph upon her stone
I cannot write, but I must weep her one.
Epitaph.
Beauty it self lies here, in whom alone,Each part enjoy'd the same perfection.
In some the eyes we praise, in some the hair;
In her the lips, in her the cheeks are fair;
That Nymphs fine feet; her hands we beauteous call;
But in this form we praise no part, but all.
The ages past have many beauties shown,
And I more plenty in our time have known:
But in the age to come I look for none;
Nature despairs because the pattern's gone,
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