The Phanseys of William Cavendish Marquis of Newcastle addressed to Margaret Lucas and her Letters in reply: Edited by Douglas Grant |
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 | The Phanseys of William Cavendish Marquis of Newcastle |  |
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The Ravisheing Voyce
Your Voyce, that's ravisheing, so rare,
It moves the Cereane panting Ayre,
And makes the woods to walke;
Hard harted rocks are mov'd to teares,
And Earth doth stretch her porous Eares;
Rivers leaves murm'ring talke.
It moves the Cereane panting Ayre,
And makes the woods to walke;
Hard harted rocks are mov'd to teares,
And Earth doth stretch her porous Eares;
Rivers leaves murm'ring talke.
The Sunne so ravisht in his Eare
As will not leave thy Hemispheare;
The Fixed Starres now move,
And all the Plannetts have no choyce
But now are fixed by thy Voyce:
Thus all is turn'd to love.
As will not leave thy Hemispheare;
The Fixed Starres now move,
And all the Plannetts have no choyce
But now are fixed by thy Voyce:
Thus all is turn'd to love.
Hard Mineralls now liquid flow;
Swel'd hills falls into Valleys lowe,
Amas'd wher you doe come;
The wilder beasts tame, Voyd of feares;
And all man's sences, turn'd to Eares;
The twatling Echo dumme.
Swel'd hills falls into Valleys lowe,
Amas'd wher you doe come;
The wilder beasts tame, Voyd of feares;
And all man's sences, turn'd to Eares;
The twatling Echo dumme.
| The Phanseys of William Cavendish Marquis of Newcastle | |