 | The poems of John Marston |  |
177
POEMS FROM LOVE'S MARTYR
A narration and description of a most exact wondrous creature, arising out of the Phœnix and Turtle Doues ashes.
O twas a mouing Epicedium!
Can Fire? can Time? can blackest Fate consume
So rare creation? No; tis thwart to sence,
Corruption quakes to touch such excellence,
Nature exclaimes for Iustice, Iustice Fate,
Ought into nought can neuer remigrate.
Then looke; for see what glorious issue (brighter
Then clearest fire, and beyond faith farre whiter
Then Dians tier) now springs from yonder flame?
Can Fire? can Time? can blackest Fate consume
So rare creation? No; tis thwart to sence,
Corruption quakes to touch such excellence,
Nature exclaimes for Iustice, Iustice Fate,
Ought into nought can neuer remigrate.
Then looke; for see what glorious issue (brighter
Then clearest fire, and beyond faith farre whiter
Then Dians tier) now springs from yonder flame?
Let me stand numb'd with wonder, neuer came
So strong amazement on astonish'd eie
As this, this measurelesse pure Raritie.
So strong amazement on astonish'd eie
As this, this measurelesse pure Raritie.
Lo now; th'xtracture of deuinest Essence,
The Soule of heauens labour'd Quintessence,
(Peans to Phœbus) from deare Louer's death,
Takes sweete creation and all blessing breath.
The Soule of heauens labour'd Quintessence,
(Peans to Phœbus) from deare Louer's death,
Takes sweete creation and all blessing breath.
What strangenesse is't that from the Turtles ashes
Assumes such forme? (whose splendor clearer flashes,
Then mounted Delius) tell me genuine Muse.
Assumes such forme? (whose splendor clearer flashes,
Then mounted Delius) tell me genuine Muse.
Now yeeld your aides, you spirites that infuse
A sacred rapture, light my weaker eie:
Raise my inuention on swift Phantasie,
That whilst of this same Metaphisicall
God, Man, nor Woman, but elix'd of all
My labouring thoughts, with strained ardor sing,
My Muse may mount with an vncommon wing.
A sacred rapture, light my weaker eie:
Raise my inuention on swift Phantasie,
That whilst of this same Metaphisicall
God, Man, nor Woman, but elix'd of all
My labouring thoughts, with strained ardor sing,
My Muse may mount with an vncommon wing.
178
The description of this Perfection.
Dares then thy too audacious sense
Presume, define that boundlesse Ens,
That amplest thought transcendeth?
O yet vouchsafe my Muse, to greete
That wondrous rarenesse, in whose sweete
All praise begins and endeth.
Presume, define that boundlesse Ens,
That amplest thought transcendeth?
O yet vouchsafe my Muse, to greete
That wondrous rarenesse, in whose sweete
All praise begins and endeth.
Diuinest Beautie? that was slightest,
That adorn'd this wondrous Brightest,
Which had nought to be corrupted.
In this, Perfection had no meane
To this, Earths purest was vncleane
Which virtue euen instructed.
That adorn'd this wondrous Brightest,
Which had nought to be corrupted.
In this, Perfection had no meane
To this, Earths purest was vncleane
Which virtue euen instructed.
By it all Beings deck'd and stained,
Ideas that are idly fained
Onely here subsist inuested.
Dread not to giue strain'd praise at all,
No speech is Hyperbolicall,
To this perfection blessed.
Ideas that are idly fained
Onely here subsist inuested.
Dread not to giue strain'd praise at all,
No speech is Hyperbolicall,
To this perfection blessed.
Thus close my Rimes, this all that can be sayd,
This wonder neuer can be flattered.
This wonder neuer can be flattered.
To Perfection.
A Sonnet.
Oft haue I gazed with astonish'd eye,
At monstrous issues of ill shaped birth,
When I haue seene the Midwife to old earth,
Nature produce most strange deformitie.
At monstrous issues of ill shaped birth,
When I haue seene the Midwife to old earth,
Nature produce most strange deformitie.
So haue I marueld to obserue of late,
Hard fauour'd Feminines so scant of faire,
That Maskes so choicely, sheltred of the aire,
As if their beauties were not theirs by fate.
Hard fauour'd Feminines so scant of faire,
That Maskes so choicely, sheltred of the aire,
As if their beauties were not theirs by fate.
179
But who so weake of obseruation,
Hath not discern'd long since how vertues wanted,
How parcimoniously the heauens haue scanted,
Our chiefest part of adornation?
Hath not discern'd long since how vertues wanted,
How parcimoniously the heauens haue scanted,
Our chiefest part of adornation?
But now I cease to wonder, now I find
The cause of all our monstrous penny-showes:
Now I conceit from whence wits scarc'tie growes,
Hard fauord features, and defects of mind.
The cause of all our monstrous penny-showes:
Now I conceit from whence wits scarc'tie growes,
Hard fauord features, and defects of mind.
Nature long time hath stor'd vp vertue, fairenesse,
Shaping the rest as foiles vnto this Rarenesse.
Shaping the rest as foiles vnto this Rarenesse.
Perfectioni Hymnus.
What should I call this creature,Which now is growne vnto maturitie?
How should I blase this feature
As firme and constant as Eternitie?
Call it Perfection? Fie!
Tis perfecter then brightest names can light it:
Call it Heauens mirror? I.
Alas, best attributes can neuer right it.
Beauties resistlesse thunder?
All nomination is too straight of sence:
Deepe Contemplations wonder?
That appellation giue this excellence.
Within all best confin'd,
(Now feebler Genius end thy slighter riming)
No Suburbes all is Mind
As farre from spot, as possible defining.
Iohn Marston.
| The poems of John Marston | |