The Grecian Story Being an Historical Poem, in Five Books. To which is Annex'd The Grove: Consisting of Divers Shorter Poems upon several Subjects. By J. H. [i.e. John Harington] |
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 | The Grecian Story |  |
The Corps when view'd, She takes her nimble flight
(Tho sent sad voice before) and like some bright,
Shot Meteors Flame, falling upon his Brest,
These Words conjoyned there: O thou, the Best
Of Men but late (true Lovers honour, Glory)
As now of Ghosts; tho for thy Fortune's Story
To th' worst of Fates ordain'd; I'm come, I'm come,
My dearest Lord (clasping her Joy's spread Tomb
His Body, Neck) thy Wretch'd Clermanthe 'tis
O Cursed Name! that kneels to take last Kiss;
Last Dire Farewell; then break my Loving Heart,
Ah cold, cold Kiss of Death (small, sudden start
Conjoyn'd, She said; Quick, hast, that Villain crying)
Death's Frost Alas! then, blood-steep'd Wounds espying,
Ah Crimson Founts (said she) that you had flow'd
From mine own Heart: Life's open Sluce and Road,
Sad Forts (as twere) whence bravest Soul convey'd:
Had we not Both but One? Why Tardy stay'd
My half behind? Stiff Marble felt, no Voice
Breath'd Whisper heard; Death's my resolved Choice;
Life torment found: You that did prove of late
Cruel, Severe, now Kind become; stern Fate
Divorc'd us here on Earth, grown Friendly now
Joyn us again in th' other World; I bow
To th' Stroke withal, with him would partner prove:
O Kill me or'e my breathless Lord and Love.
(Tho sent sad voice before) and like some bright,
Shot Meteors Flame, falling upon his Brest,
These Words conjoyned there: O thou, the Best
Of Men but late (true Lovers honour, Glory)
As now of Ghosts; tho for thy Fortune's Story
To th' worst of Fates ordain'd; I'm come, I'm come,
My dearest Lord (clasping her Joy's spread Tomb
His Body, Neck) thy Wretch'd Clermanthe 'tis
O Cursed Name! that kneels to take last Kiss;
Last Dire Farewell; then break my Loving Heart,
Ah cold, cold Kiss of Death (small, sudden start
Conjoyn'd, She said; Quick, hast, that Villain crying)
Death's Frost Alas! then, blood-steep'd Wounds espying,
Ah Crimson Founts (said she) that you had flow'd
From mine own Heart: Life's open Sluce and Road,
Sad Forts (as twere) whence bravest Soul convey'd:
Had we not Both but One? Why Tardy stay'd
My half behind? Stiff Marble felt, no Voice
Breath'd Whisper heard; Death's my resolved Choice;
145
Cruel, Severe, now Kind become; stern Fate
Divorc'd us here on Earth, grown Friendly now
Joyn us again in th' other World; I bow
To th' Stroke withal, with him would partner prove:
O Kill me or'e my breathless Lord and Love.
| The Grecian Story | |