Lucasta | ||
49
To Lucasta. From Prison.
An Epode.
I
Long in thy Shackels, liberty,I ask not from these walls, but thee;
Left for a while anothers Bride
To fancy all the world beside.
II
Yet e're I doe begin to love,See! How I all my objects prove;
Then my free Soule to that confine,
'Twere possible I might call mine.
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III
First I would be in love with Peace,And her rich swelling breasts increase;
But how alas! how may that be,
Despising Earth, she will love me?
IV
Faine would I be in love with War,As my deare Just avenging star;
But War is lov'd so ev'ry where,
Ev'n He disdaines a Lodging here.
V
Thee and thy wounds I would be moaneFaire thorough-shot Religion;
But he lives only that kills thee,
And who so bindes thy hands, is free.
VI
I would love a ParliamentAs a maine Prop from Heav'n sent;
But ah! Who's he that would be wedded
To th'fairest body that's beheaded?
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VII
Next would I court my Liberty,And then my Birth-right, Property;
But can that be, when it is knowne
There's nothing you can call your owne?
VIII
A Reformation I would have,As for our griefes a Sov'raigne salve;
That is, a cleansing of each wheele
Of State, that yet some rust doth feele:
IX
But not a Reformation so,As to reforme were to ore' throw;
Like Watches by unskilfull men
Disjoynted, and set ill againe.
X
The Publick Faith I would adore,But she is banke-rupt of her store;
Nor how to trust her can I see,
For she that couzens all, must me.
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XI
Since then none of these can beFit objects for my Love and me;
What then remaines, but th'only spring
Of all our loves and joyes? The King.
XII
He who being the whole BallOf Day on Earth, lends it to all;
When seeking to ecclipse his right,
Blinded, we stand in our owne light.
XIII
And now an universall mistOf Error is spread or'e each breast,
With such a fury edg'd, as is
Not found in th'inwards of th'Abysse.
XIV
Oh from thy glorious Starry WaineDispense on me one sacred Beame
To light me where I soone may see
How to serve you, and you trust me.
Lucasta | ||