 | The Poetry of George Wither |  |
See, these trees so ill did hide us,
That the shepherd hath espied us,
And, as jealous of his cunning,
All in haste away is running.
To entreat him back again
Would be labour spent in vain.
You may therefore now betake ye
To the music I can make ye,
Who do purpose my invention,
Shall pursue my first intention.
That the shepherd hath espied us,
And, as jealous of his cunning,
All in haste away is running.
To entreat him back again
Would be labour spent in vain.
You may therefore now betake ye
To the music I can make ye,
Who do purpose my invention,
Shall pursue my first intention.
For in her whose worth I tell
Many excellences dwell
Yet unmention'd, whose perfections
Worthy are of best affections.
Many excellences dwell
Yet unmention'd, whose perfections
Worthy are of best affections.
That which is so rare to find,
Both in man and womankind,
That, whose absence love defaceth,
And both sexes more disgraceth
Than the spite of furrow'd age,
Sicknesses, or sorrow's rage,
That's the jewel so divine
Which doth on her forehead shine,
And therewith endow'd is she
In an excellent degree:
Constancy, I mean, the purest
Of all beauties, and the surest;
For whoe'er doth that profess,
Hath an endless loveliness.
Both in man and womankind,
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And both sexes more disgraceth
Than the spite of furrow'd age,
Sicknesses, or sorrow's rage,
That's the jewel so divine
Which doth on her forehead shine,
And therewith endow'd is she
In an excellent degree:
Constancy, I mean, the purest
Of all beauties, and the surest;
For whoe'er doth that profess,
Hath an endless loveliness.
All afflictions, labours, crosses,
All our dangers, wounds, and losses,
Games of pleasure we can make
For that matchless woman's sake,
In whose breast that virtue bideth;
And we joy whate'er betideth.
All our dangers, wounds, and losses,
Games of pleasure we can make
For that matchless woman's sake,
In whose breast that virtue bideth;
And we joy whate'er betideth.
Most dejected hearts it gladdeth,
Twenty thousand glories addeth
Unto beauty's brightest ray,
And preserves it from decay;
'Tis the salt that's made to season
Beauty for the use of reason;
'Tis the varnish, and the oiling,
Keeps her colours fresh from spoiling;
'Tis an excellence whereby
Age, though join'd with poverty,
Hath more dear affection won
Than fresh youth and wealth have done;
'Tis a loveliness endearing
Beauties scarce worth note appearing;
Whilst a fairer fickle dame
Nothing gains but scorn and shame.
Twenty thousand glories addeth
Unto beauty's brightest ray,
And preserves it from decay;
'Tis the salt that's made to season
Beauty for the use of reason;
'Tis the varnish, and the oiling,
Keeps her colours fresh from spoiling;
'Tis an excellence whereby
Age, though join'd with poverty,
Hath more dear affection won
Than fresh youth and wealth have done;
'Tis a loveliness endearing
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Whilst a fairer fickle dame
Nothing gains but scorn and shame.
Further, 'tis a beauty such
As I cannot praise too much,
Nor frame measures to express,
No, nor any man, unless
He who more than all men crost
Finds it in that woman lost,
On whose faith he would have pawn'd
Life, and all he could command.
Such a man may by that miss
Make us know how dear it is,
When, o'ercharg'd with grief, he shall
Sigh, and break his heart withal.
As I cannot praise too much,
Nor frame measures to express,
No, nor any man, unless
He who more than all men crost
Finds it in that woman lost,
On whose faith he would have pawn'd
Life, and all he could command.
Such a man may by that miss
Make us know how dear it is,
When, o'ercharg'd with grief, he shall
Sigh, and break his heart withal.
This is that perfection which
In her favour makes me rich.
All whose beauties, named before,
Else would but torment me more;
And in having this, I find,
Whate'er haps, a quiet mind.
Yea, 'tis that which I do prize
Far above her lips, her eyes,
Or that general beauty whence
Shines each several excellence.
In her favour makes me rich.
All whose beauties, named before,
Else would but torment me more;
And in having this, I find,
Whate'er haps, a quiet mind.
Yea, 'tis that which I do prize
Far above her lips, her eyes,
Or that general beauty whence
Shines each several excellence.
For, alas! what gain'd hath he
Who may clip the fairest she
That the name of woman bears,
If, unhappily, he fears
Any other's worth may win
What he thought his own had bin?
Him base-minded deem I should,
Who, although he were in hold,
Wrapp'd in chains, would not disdain
Love with her to entertain
That both daughter to a peer,
And most rich and lovely were,
When a brainless gull shall dare
In her favours with him share,
Or the action of a player
Rob him of a hope so fair.
Who may clip the fairest she
That the name of woman bears,
If, unhappily, he fears
Any other's worth may win
What he thought his own had bin?
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Who, although he were in hold,
Wrapp'd in chains, would not disdain
Love with her to entertain
That both daughter to a peer,
And most rich and lovely were,
When a brainless gull shall dare
In her favours with him share,
Or the action of a player
Rob him of a hope so fair.
This I dread not: for I know
Strained gestures, painted show,
Shameless boastings, borrow'd jests,
Female looks, gay-plumed crests,
Vows nor protestations vain,
Wherewith fools are made so vain,
Move her can, save to contemn,
Or, perhaps, to laugh at them.
Strained gestures, painted show,
Shameless boastings, borrow'd jests,
Female looks, gay-plumed crests,
Vows nor protestations vain,
Wherewith fools are made so vain,
Move her can, save to contemn,
Or, perhaps, to laugh at them.
Neither can I doubt or fear
Time shall either change or wear
This her virtue, or impair
That which makes her soul so fair:
In which trust great comforts are,
Which the fear of loss would mar.
Time shall either change or wear
This her virtue, or impair
That which makes her soul so fair:
In which trust great comforts are,
Which the fear of loss would mar.
Nor hath this my rare hope stood
So much in her being good,
With her love to blessed things,
As in her acknowledgings
From a higher Power to have them,
And her love to Him that gave them.
For, although to have a mind
Naturally to good inclin'd,
And to love it, would assure
Reason that it might endure,
Yet, since man was first unjust,
There's no warrant for such trust.
Virtues that most wonder win,
Would converted be to sin,
If their flourishings began
From no better root than man.
Our best virtues, when they are
Of themselves, we may compare
To the beauty of a flower
That is blasted in an hour,
And which, growing to be fuller,
Turns into some loathed colour.
But those being freely given
And confirm'd in us from heaven,
Have a promise on them past,
And for evermore shall last,
Diamond-like, their lustre clearing
More and more by use and wearing.
So much in her being good,
With her love to blessed things,
As in her acknowledgings
From a higher Power to have them,
And her love to Him that gave them.
For, although to have a mind
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And to love it, would assure
Reason that it might endure,
Yet, since man was first unjust,
There's no warrant for such trust.
Virtues that most wonder win,
Would converted be to sin,
If their flourishings began
From no better root than man.
Our best virtues, when they are
Of themselves, we may compare
To the beauty of a flower
That is blasted in an hour,
And which, growing to be fuller,
Turns into some loathed colour.
But those being freely given
And confirm'd in us from heaven,
Have a promise on them past,
And for evermore shall last,
Diamond-like, their lustre clearing
More and more by use and wearing.
But if this rare worth I praise
Should by Fate's permission raise
Passions in some gentle breast
That distemper may his rest,
And be author of such treason
As might nigh endanger reason,
Or enforce his tongue to crave
What another man must have,
Mark, in such a strait as this,
How discreet her dealing is.
She is nothing of their humours
Who their honour build on rumours,
And had rather private sporting
Than allow of open courting;
Nor of theirs that would seem holy
By divulging others' folly:
Further is she from their guise,
That delight to tyrannize,
Or make boastings in espying
Others for their favours dying.
Should by Fate's permission raise
Passions in some gentle breast
That distemper may his rest,
And be author of such treason
As might nigh endanger reason,
Or enforce his tongue to crave
What another man must have,
Mark, in such a strait as this,
How discreet her dealing is.
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Who their honour build on rumours,
And had rather private sporting
Than allow of open courting;
Nor of theirs that would seem holy
By divulging others' folly:
Further is she from their guise,
That delight to tyrannize,
Or make boastings in espying
Others for their favours dying.
She a spirit doth possess
So replete with nobleness,
That, if she be there beloved
Where she ought not to be moved
Equally to love again,
She doth so well entertain
That affection, as there's none
Can suppose it ill bestown.
So replete with nobleness,
That, if she be there beloved
Where she ought not to be moved
Equally to love again,
She doth so well entertain
That affection, as there's none
Can suppose it ill bestown.
From deluding she is free;
From disdain as far is she;
And so feelingly bears part
Of what pains another's heart,
That no curse of scorned duty
Shall draw vengeance on her beauty.
Rather, with so tender fear
Of her honour and their care
She is touch'd, that neither shall
Wrong unto herself befall,
By the favour she doth show,
Nor will she neglect them so
As may just occasion give
Any way to make them grieve.
From disdain as far is she;
And so feelingly bears part
Of what pains another's heart,
That no curse of scorned duty
Shall draw vengeance on her beauty.
Rather, with so tender fear
Of her honour and their care
She is touch'd, that neither shall
Wrong unto herself befall,
By the favour she doth show,
Nor will she neglect them so
As may just occasion give
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Hope she will not let them see,
Lest they should presuming be,
And aspire to that which none
Ever must enjoy but one.
From despair she keeps them too,
Fearing they might hap to do,
Either through love's indiscretions
Or much over-stirred passions,
What might with their hurt and shame
Into question call her name,
And a scandal on her bring
Who is just in everything.
She hath mark'd how others run,
And by them hath learn'd to shun
Both their fault who, overwise,
Err by being too precise;
And their folly that, o'erkind,
Are to all complaints inclin'd.
For her wit hath found the way
How awhile to hold them play;
And that inconvenience shun
Whereinto both seem to run,
By allowing them a scope
Just bewixt despair and hope.
Where confin'd, and reaching neither,
They do take a part in either,
Till, long living in suspense,
Tired by her indifference,
Time at last their passion wears;
Passions wearing, reason clears;
Reason gives their judgment light;
Judgment bringeth all to right.
So their hope appearing vain,
They become themselves again,
And with high applauses, fit
For such virtue with such wit,
They that service only proffer
She may take and they may offer.
Lest they should presuming be,
And aspire to that which none
Ever must enjoy but one.
From despair she keeps them too,
Fearing they might hap to do,
Either through love's indiscretions
Or much over-stirred passions,
What might with their hurt and shame
Into question call her name,
And a scandal on her bring
Who is just in everything.
She hath mark'd how others run,
And by them hath learn'd to shun
Both their fault who, overwise,
Err by being too precise;
And their folly that, o'erkind,
Are to all complaints inclin'd.
For her wit hath found the way
How awhile to hold them play;
And that inconvenience shun
Whereinto both seem to run,
By allowing them a scope
Just bewixt despair and hope.
Where confin'd, and reaching neither,
They do take a part in either,
Till, long living in suspense,
Tired by her indifference,
Time at last their passion wears;
Passions wearing, reason clears;
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Judgment bringeth all to right.
So their hope appearing vain,
They become themselves again,
And with high applauses, fit
For such virtue with such wit,
They that service only proffer
She may take and they may offer.
Yet this course she never proves,
Save with those whose virtuous loves
Use the noblest means of gaining
Favours worthy the obtaining.
And if such should chance to err,
Either 'gainst themselves or her,
In some oversights, when they
Are through passion led astray,
She so well man's frailty knows,
With the darts that beauty throws,
As she will not adding terror
Break the heart for one poor error.
Rather, if still good they be,
Twenty remedies hath she
Gently to apply, where sense
Hath invaded reason's fence,
And, without or wound or scar,
Turns to peace a lawless war.
Save with those whose virtuous loves
Use the noblest means of gaining
Favours worthy the obtaining.
And if such should chance to err,
Either 'gainst themselves or her,
In some oversights, when they
Are through passion led astray,
She so well man's frailty knows,
With the darts that beauty throws,
As she will not adding terror
Break the heart for one poor error.
Rather, if still good they be,
Twenty remedies hath she
Gently to apply, where sense
Hath invaded reason's fence,
And, without or wound or scar,
Turns to peace a lawless war.
But to those whose baser fires
Breathe out smoke of such desires
As may dim with impure steams
Any part of beauty's beams,
She will deign no milder way
Those foul burnings to allay,
Save with such extreme neglect
As shall work her wish'd effect.
Breathe out smoke of such desires
As may dim with impure steams
Any part of beauty's beams,
She will deign no milder way
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Save with such extreme neglect
As shall work her wish'd effect.
And to use so sharp a cure
She's not oft constrained, sure,
'Cause upon her forehead still
Goodness sits, so fear'd of ill,
That the scorn and high disdains,
Wherewithal she entertains
Those loathed glances, giveth ending
To such flamings in the tinding,
That their cooled hopes needs must
Freeze desires in heat of lust.
She's not oft constrained, sure,
'Cause upon her forehead still
Goodness sits, so fear'd of ill,
That the scorn and high disdains,
Wherewithal she entertains
Those loathed glances, giveth ending
To such flamings in the tinding,
That their cooled hopes needs must
Freeze desires in heat of lust.
'Tis a power that never lies
In the fair'st immodest eyes.
Wantons, 'tis not your sweet eyeings,
Forced passions, feigned dyings,
Gestures, temptings, tears, beguilings,
Dancings, singings, kissings, smilings,
Nor those painted sweets with which
You unwary men bewitch,
All united, nor asunder,
That can compass such a wonder,
Or to win you love prevails
Where her moving virtues fails.
In the fair'st immodest eyes.
Wantons, 'tis not your sweet eyeings,
Forced passions, feigned dyings,
Gestures, temptings, tears, beguilings,
Dancings, singings, kissings, smilings,
Nor those painted sweets with which
You unwary men bewitch,
All united, nor asunder,
That can compass such a wonder,
Or to win you love prevails
Where her moving virtues fails.
Beauties, 'tis not at all those features,
Placed in the fairest creatures,
Though their best they should discover,
That can tempt from her a lover.
'Tis not those soft snowy breasts,
Where love rock'd in pleasure rests,
And, by their continual motions,
Draweth hearts to vain devotions;
Nor the nectar that we sip
From a honey-dropping lip;
Nor those eyes whence beauty's lances
Wound the heart with wanton glances;
Nor those sought delights that lie
In love's hidden treasury,
That can liking gain where she
Will the best beloved be.
Placed in the fairest creatures,
Though their best they should discover,
That can tempt from her a lover.
'Tis not those soft snowy breasts,
Where love rock'd in pleasure rests,
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Draweth hearts to vain devotions;
Nor the nectar that we sip
From a honey-dropping lip;
Nor those eyes whence beauty's lances
Wound the heart with wanton glances;
Nor those sought delights that lie
In love's hidden treasury,
That can liking gain where she
Will the best beloved be.
For should those who think they may
Draw my love from her away,
Bring forth all their female graces,
Wrap me in their close embraces,
Practise all the art they may,
Weep, or sing, or kiss, or pray,
And with sighs and looks come woo me,
When they soonest may undo me,
One poor thought of her would arm me
So as Circe could not harm me.
Since beside those excellences
Wherewith others please the senses,
She whom I have prized so
Yields delights for reason too,
Who could dote on thing so common
As mere outward-handsome woman?
Those half-beauties only win
Fools to let affection in;
Vulgar wits, from reason shaken,
Are with such impostures taken;
And with all their art in love,
Wantons can but wantons move.
But when unto those are join'd
Those things which adorn the mind,
None their excellences see
But they straight enthralled be.
Fools and wise men, worst and best,
Subject are to love's arrest.
For, when virtue woos a lover,
She's an unresisted mover,
That will have no kind of nay,
And in love brooks no delay.
Draw my love from her away,
Bring forth all their female graces,
Wrap me in their close embraces,
Practise all the art they may,
Weep, or sing, or kiss, or pray,
And with sighs and looks come woo me,
When they soonest may undo me,
One poor thought of her would arm me
So as Circe could not harm me.
Since beside those excellences
Wherewith others please the senses,
She whom I have prized so
Yields delights for reason too,
Who could dote on thing so common
As mere outward-handsome woman?
Those half-beauties only win
Fools to let affection in;
Vulgar wits, from reason shaken,
Are with such impostures taken;
And with all their art in love,
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But when unto those are join'd
Those things which adorn the mind,
None their excellences see
But they straight enthralled be.
Fools and wise men, worst and best,
Subject are to love's arrest.
For, when virtue woos a lover,
She's an unresisted mover,
That will have no kind of nay,
And in love brooks no delay.
She can make the sensual wights
To restrain their appetites;
And, her beauty when they see,
Spite of vice, in love to be;
Yea, although themselves be bad,
Praise the good they never had.
She hath to her service brought
Those that her have set at nought,
And can fair enough appear
To enflame the most severe.
To restrain their appetites;
And, her beauty when they see,
Spite of vice, in love to be;
Yea, although themselves be bad,
Praise the good they never had.
She hath to her service brought
Those that her have set at nought,
And can fair enough appear
To enflame the most severe.
She hath oft allured out
The religiously devout
From their cloisters and their vows,
To embrace what she allows,
And to such contentments come,
As blind zeal had barr'd them from,
While, her laws misunderstood,
They did ill for love of good.
The religiously devout
From their cloisters and their vows,
To embrace what she allows,
And to such contentments come,
As blind zeal had barr'd them from,
While, her laws misunderstood,
They did ill for love of good.
Where I find true worth to be
Sweetest are their lips to me;
And embraces tempt me to
More than outward beauties do,
That my firm belief is this:
If ever I do amiss,
Seeming good the bait will lay
That to ill shall me betray,
Since, where shows of goodness are,
I am oft embolden'd there
Freedoms to permit and use
Which I elsewhere do refuse,
For because I think they mean
To allow no deed unclean.
Sweetest are their lips to me;
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More than outward beauties do,
That my firm belief is this:
If ever I do amiss,
Seeming good the bait will lay
That to ill shall me betray,
Since, where shows of goodness are,
I am oft embolden'd there
Freedoms to permit and use
Which I elsewhere do refuse,
For because I think they mean
To allow no deed unclean.
Yet where two love virtue shall
Both at once, they seldom fall.
For when one hath thoughts of ill,
T'other helps exile them still.
Both at once, they seldom fall.
For when one hath thoughts of ill,
T'other helps exile them still.
My fair virtue's power is this.
And that power the beauty is,
Which doth make her here exprest
Equally both fair and blest.
And that power the beauty is,
Which doth make her here exprest
Equally both fair and blest.
This was that contenting grace
Which affection made me place
With so dear respect that never
Can it fail, but last for ever.
Which affection made me place
With so dear respect that never
Can it fail, but last for ever.
This a servant made me sworn,
Who beforetime held in scorn
To yield vassalage or duty,
Though unto the queen of beauty.
Yet that I her servant am,
It shall more be to my fame
Than to own these woods and downs,
Or be lord of fifty towns.
And my mistress to be deem'd,
Shall more honour be esteem'd
Than those titles to acquire
Which most women most desire.
Yea, when you a woman shall
Countess or a duchess call,
That respect it shall not move,
Neither gain her half such love
As to say, Lo, this is she
That supposed is to be
Mistress to Philarete,
And that lovely nymph which he
In a pastoral poem famed,
And Fair Virtue there hath named.
Yea, some ladies, ten to one,
If not many, now unknown,
Will be very well-a-paid
When by chance she hears it said
She that fair one is whom I
Here have praised concealedly.
Who beforetime held in scorn
To yield vassalage or duty,
Though unto the queen of beauty.
Yet that I her servant am,
It shall more be to my fame
Than to own these woods and downs,
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And my mistress to be deem'd,
Shall more honour be esteem'd
Than those titles to acquire
Which most women most desire.
Yea, when you a woman shall
Countess or a duchess call,
That respect it shall not move,
Neither gain her half such love
As to say, Lo, this is she
That supposed is to be
Mistress to Philarete,
And that lovely nymph which he
In a pastoral poem famed,
And Fair Virtue there hath named.
Yea, some ladies, ten to one,
If not many, now unknown,
Will be very well-a-paid
When by chance she hears it said
She that fair one is whom I
Here have praised concealedly.
And though now this age's pride
May so brave a hope deride,
Yet when all their glories pass
As the thing that never was,
And on monuments appear
That they e'er had breathing here
Who envy it, she shall thrive
In her fame, and honour'd live
Whilst Great Britain's shepherds sing
English in their sonneting.
And whoe'er in future days
Shall bestow the utmost praise
On his love that any man
Attribute to creature can,
'Twill be this, that he hath dared
His and mine to have compared.
May so brave a hope deride,
Yet when all their glories pass
As the thing that never was,
And on monuments appear
That they e'er had breathing here
Who envy it, she shall thrive
In her fame, and honour'd live
Whilst Great Britain's shepherds sing
English in their sonneting.
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Shall bestow the utmost praise
On his love that any man
Attribute to creature can,
'Twill be this, that he hath dared
His and mine to have compared.
Oh! what stars did shine on me
When her eyes I first did see!
And how good was their aspect
When we first did both affect!
For I never since to changing
Was inclined, or thought of ranging.
When her eyes I first did see!
And how good was their aspect
When we first did both affect!
For I never since to changing
Was inclined, or thought of ranging.
Me so oft my fancy drew
Here and there, that I ne'er knew
Where to place desire before
So that range it might no more,
But as he that passeth by,
Where in all her jollity
Flora's riches in a row
Doth in seemly order grow,
And a thousand flowers stand
Bending as to kiss his hand,
Out of which delightful store
One he may take, and no more,
Long he pausing, doubteth whether
Of those fair ones he should gather:
Here and there, that I ne'er knew
Where to place desire before
So that range it might no more,
But as he that passeth by,
Where in all her jollity
Flora's riches in a row
Doth in seemly order grow,
And a thousand flowers stand
Bending as to kiss his hand,
Out of which delightful store
One he may take, and no more,
Long he pausing, doubteth whether
Of those fair ones he should gather:
First the primrose courts his eyes;
Then the cowslip he espies;
Next the pansy seems to woo him;
Then carnations bow unto him,
Which whilst that enamour'd swain
From the stalk intends to strain,
As half fearing to be seen,
Prettily her leaves between
Peeps the violet, pale to see
That her virtues slighted be,
Which so much his liking wins,
That to seize her he begins;
Yet, before he stoop'd so low,
He his wanton eye did throw
On a stem that grew more high,
And the rose did there espy,
Who, beside her precious scent,
To procure his eyes content,
Did display her goodly breast;
Where he found at full exprest
All the good that nature showers
On a thousand other flowers;
Wherewith he, affected, takes it,
His beloved flower he makes it,
And, without desire of more,
Walks through all he saw before:
Then the cowslip he espies;
Next the pansy seems to woo him;
Then carnations bow unto him,
Which whilst that enamour'd swain
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As half fearing to be seen,
Prettily her leaves between
Peeps the violet, pale to see
That her virtues slighted be,
Which so much his liking wins,
That to seize her he begins;
Yet, before he stoop'd so low,
He his wanton eye did throw
On a stem that grew more high,
And the rose did there espy,
Who, beside her precious scent,
To procure his eyes content,
Did display her goodly breast;
Where he found at full exprest
All the good that nature showers
On a thousand other flowers;
Wherewith he, affected, takes it,
His beloved flower he makes it,
And, without desire of more,
Walks through all he saw before:
So I wandering but erewhile
Through the garden of this isle,
Saw rich beauties, I confess,
And in number numberless;
Yea, so differing-lovely too,
That I had a world to do
Ere I could set up my rest
Where to choose, and choose the best.
Through the garden of this isle,
Saw rich beauties, I confess,
And in number numberless;
Yea, so differing-lovely too,
That I had a world to do
Ere I could set up my rest
Where to choose, and choose the best.
One I saw whose hair excell'd,
On another's brow there dwell'd
Such a majesty, it seem'd
She was best to be esteem'd.
On another's brow there dwell'd
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She was best to be esteem'd.
This had with her speeches won me,
That with silence had undone me.
On her lips the Graces hung,
T'other charm'd me with her tongue.
In her eyes a third did bear
That which did anew ensnare.
Then a fourth did fairer show,
Yet wherein I did not know;
Only this perceived I,
Somewhat pleas'd my fantasy.
Now the wealth I most esteem'd;
Honour then I better deem'd.
Next, the love of beauty seiz'd me,
And then virtue better pleas'd me.
Juno's love I nought esteem'd,
Whilst a Venus fairer seem'd.
Nay, both could not me suffice;
Whilst a Pallas was more wise:
Though I found enough in one
To content if still alone.
That with silence had undone me.
On her lips the Graces hung,
T'other charm'd me with her tongue.
In her eyes a third did bear
That which did anew ensnare.
Then a fourth did fairer show,
Yet wherein I did not know;
Only this perceived I,
Somewhat pleas'd my fantasy.
Now the wealth I most esteem'd;
Honour then I better deem'd.
Next, the love of beauty seiz'd me,
And then virtue better pleas'd me.
Juno's love I nought esteem'd,
Whilst a Venus fairer seem'd.
Nay, both could not me suffice;
Whilst a Pallas was more wise:
Though I found enough in one
To content if still alone.
Amaryllis I did woo;
And I courted Phyllis too.
Daphne for her love I chose;
Chloris for that damask rose
In her cheek I held as dear;
Yea, a thousand lik'd well near,
And, in love with altogether,
Feared the enjoying either,
'Cause, to be of one possest,
Barred the hope of all the rest.
And I courted Phyllis too.
Daphne for her love I chose;
Chloris for that damask rose
In her cheek I held as dear;
Yea, a thousand lik'd well near,
And, in love with altogether,
Feared the enjoying either,
'Cause, to be of one possest,
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Thus I fondly far'd, till Fate—
Which, I must confess, in that
Did a greater favour to me
Than the world can malice do me—
Show'd to me that matchless flower,
Subject for this song of our.
Whose perfection having eyed,
Reason instantly espied
That desire, which rang'd abroad,
There would find a period.
And no marvel if it might;
For it there hath all delight,
And in her hath Nature placed
What each several fair one graced.
Which, I must confess, in that
Did a greater favour to me
Than the world can malice do me—
Show'd to me that matchless flower,
Subject for this song of our.
Whose perfection having eyed,
Reason instantly espied
That desire, which rang'd abroad,
There would find a period.
And no marvel if it might;
For it there hath all delight,
And in her hath Nature placed
What each several fair one graced.
Nor am I alone delighted
With those graces all united
Which the sense's eye doth find
Scattered throughout womankind,
But my reason finds perfections
To inflame my soul's affections.
Yea, such virtues she possesseth,
As with firmest pleasures blesseth,
And keeps sound that beauty's state
Which would else grow ruinate.
With those graces all united
Which the sense's eye doth find
Scattered throughout womankind,
But my reason finds perfections
To inflame my soul's affections.
Yea, such virtues she possesseth,
As with firmest pleasures blesseth,
And keeps sound that beauty's state
Which would else grow ruinate.
In this flower are sweets such store
I shall never wish for more,
Nor be tempted out to stray
For the fairest buds in May.
I shall never wish for more,
Nor be tempted out to stray
For the fairest buds in May.
Let who list for me advance
The admired flowers of France;
Let who will praise and behold
The reserved marigold;
Let the sweet-breath'd violet now
Unto whom she pleaseth bow,
And the fairest lily spread
Where she will her golden head;
I have such a flower to wear,
That for those I do not care.
The admired flowers of France;
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The reserved marigold;
Let the sweet-breath'd violet now
Unto whom she pleaseth bow,
And the fairest lily spread
Where she will her golden head;
I have such a flower to wear,
That for those I do not care.
Never shall my fancy range,
Nor once think again of change;
Never will I, never more,
Grieve or sigh as heretofore,
Nor within the lodgings lie
Of despair or jealousy.
Nor once think again of change;
Never will I, never more,
Grieve or sigh as heretofore,
Nor within the lodgings lie
Of despair or jealousy.
Let the young and happy swains
Playing on the Britain plains
Court unblam'd their shepherdesses,
And with their gold-curled tresses
Toy uncensur'd, until I
Grutch at their prosperity.
Playing on the Britain plains
Court unblam'd their shepherdesses,
And with their gold-curled tresses
Toy uncensur'd, until I
Grutch at their prosperity.
Let all times, both present, past,
And the age that shall be last,
Vaunt the beauties they bring forth;
I have found in one such worth
That, content, I neither care
What the best before me were,
Nor desire to live and see
Who shall fair hereafter be;
For I know the hand of Nature
Will not make a fairer creature;
Which, because succeeding days
Shall confess, and add their praise
In approving what my tongue,
Ere they had their being, sung;
Once again come lend an ear,
And a rapture you shall hear,
Though I taste no Thespian spring,
Will amaze you whilst I sing.
I do feel new strains inspiring,
And to such brave heights aspiring,
That my Muse will touch a key
Higher than you heard to-day.
And the age that shall be last,
Vaunt the beauties they bring forth;
I have found in one such worth
That, content, I neither care
What the best before me were,
Nor desire to live and see
Who shall fair hereafter be;
For I know the hand of Nature
Will not make a fairer creature;
Which, because succeeding days
145
In approving what my tongue,
Ere they had their being, sung;
Once again come lend an ear,
And a rapture you shall hear,
Though I taste no Thespian spring,
Will amaze you whilst I sing.
I do feel new strains inspiring,
And to such brave heights aspiring,
That my Muse will touch a key
Higher than you heard to-day.
I have beauties to unfold
That deserve a pen of gold,
Sweets that never dream'd of were,
Things unknown, and such as ear
Never heard a measure sound
Since the sun first ran his round.
That deserve a pen of gold,
Sweets that never dream'd of were,
Things unknown, and such as ear
Never heard a measure sound
Since the sun first ran his round.
When Apelles limn'd to life
Loathed Vulcan's lovely wife,
With such beauties he did trim
Each sweet feature and each limb,
And so curiously did place
Every well-becoming grace,
That 'twas said, ere he could draw
Such a piece, he naked saw
Many women in their prime,
And the fairest of that time;
From all which he parts did take,
Which aright disposed make
Perfect beauty. So, when you
Know what I have yet to show,
It will seem to pass so far
Those things which expressed are
That you will suppose I've been
Privileged, where I have seen
All the good that's spread in parts
Through a thousand women's hearts,
With their fair'st conditions, lie
Bare without hypocrisy,
And that I have took from thence
Each dispersed excellence
To express her who hath gained
More than ever one obtained.
Loathed Vulcan's lovely wife,
With such beauties he did trim
Each sweet feature and each limb,
And so curiously did place
Every well-becoming grace,
That 'twas said, ere he could draw
Such a piece, he naked saw
Many women in their prime,
And the fairest of that time;
From all which he parts did take,
Which aright disposed make
Perfect beauty. So, when you
Know what I have yet to show,
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Those things which expressed are
That you will suppose I've been
Privileged, where I have seen
All the good that's spread in parts
Through a thousand women's hearts,
With their fair'st conditions, lie
Bare without hypocrisy,
And that I have took from thence
Each dispersed excellence
To express her who hath gained
More than ever one obtained.
And yet soft; I fear in vain
I have boasted such a strain.
Apprehensions ever are
Greater than expression far;
And my striving to disclose
What I know, hath made me lose
My invention's better part,
And my hopes exceed my art.
I have boasted such a strain.
Apprehensions ever are
Greater than expression far;
And my striving to disclose
What I know, hath made me lose
My invention's better part,
And my hopes exceed my art.
Speak I can; yet think I more;
Words compar'd with thoughts are poor.
And I find, had I begun
Such a strain, it would be done
When we number all the sands
Wash'd o'er perjured Goodwin's lands.
For of things I should indite,
Which, I know, are infinite.
I do yield my thoughts did climb
Far above the power of rhyme;
And no wonder it is so,
Since there is no art can show
Red in roses, white in snow,
Nor express how they do grow.
Yea, since bird, beast, stone, and tree,
That inferior creatures be,
Beauties have which we confess
Lines unable to express,
They more hardly can enrol
Those that do adorn a soul.
But suppose my measures could
Reach the height I thought they would,
Now relate I would not tho'
What did swell within me so.
For if I should all descry,
You would know as much as I,
And those clowns the Muses hate
Would of things above them prate,
Or with their profaning eyes,
Come to view those mysteries
Whereof, since they disesteem'd them,
Heaven hath unworthy deem'd them.
Words compar'd with thoughts are poor.
And I find, had I begun
Such a strain, it would be done
When we number all the sands
Wash'd o'er perjured Goodwin's lands.
For of things I should indite,
Which, I know, are infinite.
I do yield my thoughts did climb
Far above the power of rhyme;
And no wonder it is so,
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Red in roses, white in snow,
Nor express how they do grow.
Yea, since bird, beast, stone, and tree,
That inferior creatures be,
Beauties have which we confess
Lines unable to express,
They more hardly can enrol
Those that do adorn a soul.
But suppose my measures could
Reach the height I thought they would,
Now relate I would not tho'
What did swell within me so.
For if I should all descry,
You would know as much as I,
And those clowns the Muses hate
Would of things above them prate,
Or with their profaning eyes,
Come to view those mysteries
Whereof, since they disesteem'd them,
Heaven hath unworthy deem'd them.
And beside, it seems to me
That your ears nigh tired be.
I perceive the fire that charmeth
And inspireth me scarce warmeth
Your chill hearts; nay, sure, were I
Melted into poesy,
I should not a measure hit,
Though Apollo prompted it,
Which should able be to leave
That in you which I conceive.
That your ears nigh tired be.
I perceive the fire that charmeth
And inspireth me scarce warmeth
Your chill hearts; nay, sure, were I
Melted into poesy,
I should not a measure hit,
Though Apollo prompted it,
Which should able be to leave
That in you which I conceive.
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You are cold; and here I may
Waste my vital heat away
Ere you will be moved so much
As to feel one perfect touch
Of those sweets which, yet conceal'd,
Swell my breast to be reveal'd.
Waste my vital heat away
Ere you will be moved so much
As to feel one perfect touch
Of those sweets which, yet conceal'd,
Swell my breast to be reveal'd.
Now my words I therefore cease,
That my mounting thoughts in peace
May alone those pleasures share
Whereof lines unworthy are.
And so you an end do see
Of my song, though long it be.
That my mounting thoughts in peace
May alone those pleasures share
Whereof lines unworthy are.
And so you an end do see
Of my song, though long it be.
| The Poetry of George Wither | |