The History of Polindor and Flostella With Other Poems. By I. H. [i.e. John Harington] The third Edition, Revised and much Enlarged |
 |
|
| I. |
| II. |
| III. |
|
| 1. |
| 3. |
|
|
 | The History of Polindor and Flostella |  |
Though, growing bigger yet, th' enlarged Queen
Her self would say, whilst kiss'd embrac'd between,
Your Mother (pritty one) intruth was crown'd
Dear to me, Sister-like, th' especiall ground
You share this kinder Love; although you do
Revive to th' thoughts my bury'd Daughter too
Most like the First (twain once this Womb producing)
Thus, Love with Sorrow both at once infusing.
To which reply'd that royall Bud (anon)
With pleasing'st grace; Would heaven that she alone
(Madam) survived yet, that I might prove
Her humble Handmayd. Showring tears of love
In smiles, No sweet (reply'd Clarvesia then)
Youl'd Mayd of honour prove perhaps to th' Queen.
'Bout eight years old, to th' Lord's own house transplanted
(As neer of Blood) she was, which Court-like vanted,
Since made this Princely'st Jewels Cabinet;
Now seem'd Clarvesias Joy almost compleat.
Thus, growing on, at full Ten years (no more)
Choice Aprils early Blooms her Cheeks they wore:
Till, mounted up to th' gallant pitch, Fifteen,
Grown Woman-ripe as then, true Princess, Queen
Blaz'd in her sunny eye, Breath'd from her brest,
Both Coyn'd as 'twere for empire; Beauties crest
Her brow presents, with Honours glorious Throne:
When strait her Mystick Birth's discover'd, shown
In private room, Lorele, Clarvesia by
(Fit'st time) But O the various Extasie,
Bosome-intrancements, folds that very hour!
Smiles, kisses, tears! Joy shew'd its soveraign pow'r
In th' One, at first; Joy, wonder in the Other;
Grief shortly both in Daughter though and Motler
Prov'd equall rule, through th' envious wrongs of Fate.
The Virtue, worthy'st Passion shewn in that
Prime Scean of nature (Reader) fancy may,
Much nimbler then my Pen, to th' full Portray.
Her self would say, whilst kiss'd embrac'd between,
Your Mother (pritty one) intruth was crown'd
Dear to me, Sister-like, th' especiall ground
You share this kinder Love; although you do
Revive to th' thoughts my bury'd Daughter too
Most like the First (twain once this Womb producing)
Thus, Love with Sorrow both at once infusing.
To which reply'd that royall Bud (anon)
With pleasing'st grace; Would heaven that she alone
(Madam) survived yet, that I might prove
Her humble Handmayd. Showring tears of love
In smiles, No sweet (reply'd Clarvesia then)
Youl'd Mayd of honour prove perhaps to th' Queen.
'Bout eight years old, to th' Lord's own house transplanted
(As neer of Blood) she was, which Court-like vanted,
Since made this Princely'st Jewels Cabinet;
Now seem'd Clarvesias Joy almost compleat.
Thus, growing on, at full Ten years (no more)
Choice Aprils early Blooms her Cheeks they wore:
Till, mounted up to th' gallant pitch, Fifteen,
Grown Woman-ripe as then, true Princess, Queen
Blaz'd in her sunny eye, Breath'd from her brest,
Both Coyn'd as 'twere for empire; Beauties crest
Her brow presents, with Honours glorious Throne:
When strait her Mystick Birth's discover'd, shown
In private room, Lorele, Clarvesia by
(Fit'st time) But O the various Extasie,
Bosome-intrancements, folds that very hour!
Smiles, kisses, tears! Joy shew'd its soveraign pow'r
In th' One, at first; Joy, wonder in the Other;
Grief shortly both in Daughter though and Motler
Prov'd equall rule, through th' envious wrongs of Fate.
The Virtue, worthy'st Passion shewn in that
90
Much nimbler then my Pen, to th' full Portray.
| The History of Polindor and Flostella | |