Natures Picture Drawn by Fancies Pencil To the Life Being several Feigned Stories, Comical, Tragical, Tragi-comical, Poetical, Romancical, Philosophical, Historical, and Moral: Some in Verse, some in Prose; some Mixt, and some by Dialogues. Written by the Thrice Noble, Illustrious, and most Excellent Princess, The Duchess of Newcastle [i.e. Margaret Cavendish]. The Second Edition |
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 | Natures Picture Drawn by Fancies Pencil To the Life |  |
Sweetest, You have exprest your Love to me
With so much plainness and sincerity;
And yet your stile severely have you writ,
And rul'd your Lines with a Commanding-wit:
Heroick Flourishes your Pen doth draw,
Or executes as in a Martial-Law.
Then solemnly doth march in Mourning-trail,
And melancholy words all hopes do vail.
As Golden dust on written lines strewn were,
Your written lines seem sprinkled with a Tear;
As by the Heat of Passion spread about,
For fear that Cruelty should blot it out.
But let me tell you, That my love is such,
As never Lover loved half so much,
And with so fervent Zeal, and purest Flame,
Nay, something above Love, that wants a Name
For to express it; like to Gods on high:
For, who can comprehend a Deity?
And though I honour all your Sex, yet my
Having another Mistress, I deny,
Besides your self; and though I do obey
To visit the fair Princess, nothing say
Concerning Love, nor yet Professions make,
As common Lovers, promise for her sake
Wonders; and yet my Life to her will give
To do her service: but whilst I do live,
My Heart and Soul is yours; and when I dye,
Still will my Soul keep yours in company:
Though by Honour my active life is bound
Unto your Sex, you only will be found
Within my Heart, and only Love to be,
From whence my Brain doth Copies take of thee:
On which my Soul doth view with much delight,
Because the Soul sees not with vulgar sight:
For Souls do see, not as the Senses do,
But as transparent Glass, the Minds quite through:
Or rather as the Gods see all that's past,
Present, or what's to come, or the World vast;
Or what can be, all unto them is known;
And so are Souls to one another shown:
And if our Souls do equally agree,
Our Thoughts and Passions to each known will be.
With so much plainness and sincerity;
And yet your stile severely have you writ,
And rul'd your Lines with a Commanding-wit:
Heroick Flourishes your Pen doth draw,
Or executes as in a Martial-Law.
Then solemnly doth march in Mourning-trail,
And melancholy words all hopes do vail.
As Golden dust on written lines strewn were,
Your written lines seem sprinkled with a Tear;
As by the Heat of Passion spread about,
For fear that Cruelty should blot it out.
But let me tell you, That my love is such,
As never Lover loved half so much,
And with so fervent Zeal, and purest Flame,
Nay, something above Love, that wants a Name
For to express it; like to Gods on high:
For, who can comprehend a Deity?
23
Having another Mistress, I deny,
Besides your self; and though I do obey
To visit the fair Princess, nothing say
Concerning Love, nor yet Professions make,
As common Lovers, promise for her sake
Wonders; and yet my Life to her will give
To do her service: but whilst I do live,
My Heart and Soul is yours; and when I dye,
Still will my Soul keep yours in company:
Though by Honour my active life is bound
Unto your Sex, you only will be found
Within my Heart, and only Love to be,
From whence my Brain doth Copies take of thee:
On which my Soul doth view with much delight,
Because the Soul sees not with vulgar sight:
For Souls do see, not as the Senses do,
But as transparent Glass, the Minds quite through:
Or rather as the Gods see all that's past,
Present, or what's to come, or the World vast;
Or what can be, all unto them is known;
And so are Souls to one another shown:
And if our Souls do equally agree,
Our Thoughts and Passions to each known will be.
| Natures Picture Drawn by Fancies Pencil To the Life | |