The Poetry of George Wither Edited by Frank Sidgwick |
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| 14. | 14. CERTAIN VERSES WRITTEN TO HIS LOVING
FRIEND, UPON HIS DEPARTURE. |
 | The Poetry of George Wither |  |
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14. CERTAIN VERSES WRITTEN TO HIS LOVING FRIEND, UPON HIS DEPARTURE.
Swift Time, that will by no entreaty stay,
Is now gone by, and summons me away;
And what my grief denies my tongue to do,
My true affection drives my pen unto.
Dear heart, that day and that sad hour is come
In which thy face I must be banished from,
And go to live where peradventure we
Hereafter must for aye divided be.
Is now gone by, and summons me away;
And what my grief denies my tongue to do,
My true affection drives my pen unto.
Dear heart, that day and that sad hour is come
In which thy face I must be banished from,
And go to live where peradventure we
Hereafter must for aye divided be.
For, 'twixt our bodies, which now close are met,
A thousand hills and valleys shall be set,
A thousand groves, a thousand weeping springs,
And many thousand other envious things,
Which, when we are departed, keep us may
From coming nearer till our dying day.
A thousand hills and valleys shall be set,
A thousand groves, a thousand weeping springs,
And many thousand other envious things,
Which, when we are departed, keep us may
From coming nearer till our dying day.
So these our hands, which thus each other touch
Shall never after this time do so much;
Nor shall these eyes, which yet themselves delight,
With mutual gazing on each other light,
Be ever raised up again so near
To view each other in their proper sphere;
Nor e'er again, through those their crystal orbs,
Read what sad passion our poor hearts disturbs.
Shall never after this time do so much;
Nor shall these eyes, which yet themselves delight,
With mutual gazing on each other light,
Be ever raised up again so near
To view each other in their proper sphere;
Nor e'er again, through those their crystal orbs,
Read what sad passion our poor hearts disturbs.
Which when we think upon, we scarce contain
Their swelling flood-gates, but a pearly rain
Drops from those plenteous springs; and forth are sent
From those sad dungeons where our hearts are pent,
So many sighs that, in our parting now,
A storm of passions we must venture through,
Whose fury I would stay to see o'erpast
Before I went, in spite of all my haste,
But that I view some tokens which foretell
That by delay the floods will higher swell,
And, whilst to be divided we are loth,
With some worse peril overwhelm us both.
Their swelling flood-gates, but a pearly rain
Drops from those plenteous springs; and forth are sent
From those sad dungeons where our hearts are pent,
So many sighs that, in our parting now,
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Whose fury I would stay to see o'erpast
Before I went, in spite of all my haste,
But that I view some tokens which foretell
That by delay the floods will higher swell,
And, whilst to be divided we are loth,
With some worse peril overwhelm us both.
Oh! rather let us wisely undergo
A sorrow that will daily lesser grow,
Than venture on a pleasing mischief which
Will unawares our honest hearts bewitch,
And bring us to such pass at last that we
Shall ne'er perceive it till undone we be.
A sorrow that will daily lesser grow,
Than venture on a pleasing mischief which
Will unawares our honest hearts bewitch,
And bring us to such pass at last that we
Shall ne'er perceive it till undone we be.
I find your love, and so the same approve,
That I shall ever love you for that love,
And am so covetous of such dear pelf,
That for it I could give away myself.
And yet I rather would go pine and die
For want thereof, than live till you or I
Should give or take one dram of that delight
Which is another's, and so mar outright
Our most unstain'd affection, which hath yet
No inclination unto ill in it.
That I shall ever love you for that love,
And am so covetous of such dear pelf,
That for it I could give away myself.
And yet I rather would go pine and die
For want thereof, than live till you or I
Should give or take one dram of that delight
Which is another's, and so mar outright
Our most unstain'd affection, which hath yet
No inclination unto ill in it.
Nay, though it more unsufferable were,
I would e'en that just liberty forbear
Which honest friendship is allow'd to take,
If I perceived it me unapt did make
To master my affections, or to go
On those affairs that reason calls me to.
I would e'en that just liberty forbear
Which honest friendship is allow'd to take,
If I perceived it me unapt did make
To master my affections, or to go
On those affairs that reason calls me to.
Those parents that discreet in loving be,
When on their new-born child a wen they see
Which may perchance in aftertime disgrace
The sweet proportion of a lovely face,
Although it wound their souls to hear the moan,
And see the tortures of their pretty one,
To weep a little rather are content
Whilst he endures the surgeon's instrument,
Than suffer that foul blemish there to spread,
Until his face be quite disfigured.
When on their new-born child a wen they see
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The sweet proportion of a lovely face,
Although it wound their souls to hear the moan,
And see the tortures of their pretty one,
To weep a little rather are content
Whilst he endures the surgeon's instrument,
Than suffer that foul blemish there to spread,
Until his face be quite disfigured.
So we, betwixt whose souls there is begot
That sweet babe, friendship, must beware no spot
Through our indulgent indiscretion grow,
That may the beauty of our love o'erthrow;
Let's rather bear a little discontent,
And learn of reason those things to prevent
Which mar affection, that our friendship may
Wax firmer and more lovely every day.
That sweet babe, friendship, must beware no spot
Through our indulgent indiscretion grow,
That may the beauty of our love o'erthrow;
Let's rather bear a little discontent,
And learn of reason those things to prevent
Which mar affection, that our friendship may
Wax firmer and more lovely every day.
There is indeed to gentle hearts no smarting
That is more torment to them than departing
From those they love; and doubtless if that we
Were so united as the married be,
Our bodies at our parture would be so
As if each of them did a soul forego.
That is more torment to them than departing
From those they love; and doubtless if that we
Were so united as the married be,
Our bodies at our parture would be so
As if each of them did a soul forego.
But in our flesh we are, and must remain,
Perpetual strangers, and ourselves contain
From that embrace which marriage love allows,
Or else, I injure virtue, you your vows,
And for a short unworthy pleasure mar
Those rich contentments which eternal are,
Of which I am in hope that always we
Should in each other's presence guiltless be.
But in our absence sure I am we shall
Not only still be innocent of all
That simple folly and that oversight
To which our many frailties tempt us might,
But by this means shall also 'scape the blot
Wherewith ill tongues our names would seek to spot.
Perpetual strangers, and ourselves contain
From that embrace which marriage love allows,
Or else, I injure virtue, you your vows,
And for a short unworthy pleasure mar
Those rich contentments which eternal are,
Of which I am in hope that always we
Should in each other's presence guiltless be.
But in our absence sure I am we shall
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That simple folly and that oversight
To which our many frailties tempt us might,
But by this means shall also 'scape the blot
Wherewith ill tongues our names would seek to spot.
Which if you fear, and would avoid the wrongs
That may befall you by malicious tongues,
Then seek my absence, for I have in that
Unto my friends been too unfortunate;
Yet as I love fair virtue, there is no man
E'er heard me boast the favours of a woman
To her dishonour, neither, by my soul,
Was I e'er guilty of an act so foul
As some imagine; neither do I know
That woman yet with whom I might be so;
For never kindnesses to me were show'd
Which I dared think for evil end bestow'd:
Nor ever, to this present hour, did I
Turn friendship, favour, opportunity,
Or ought vouchsaf'd me, thereby to acquire
Those wicked ends which wantons do desire:
For whensoever lust begun to flame,
It was extinguish'd by true love and shame.
That may befall you by malicious tongues,
Then seek my absence, for I have in that
Unto my friends been too unfortunate;
Yet as I love fair virtue, there is no man
E'er heard me boast the favours of a woman
To her dishonour, neither, by my soul,
Was I e'er guilty of an act so foul
As some imagine; neither do I know
That woman yet with whom I might be so;
For never kindnesses to me were show'd
Which I dared think for evil end bestow'd:
Nor ever, to this present hour, did I
Turn friendship, favour, opportunity,
Or ought vouchsaf'd me, thereby to acquire
Those wicked ends which wantons do desire:
For whensoever lust begun to flame,
It was extinguish'd by true love and shame.
But what would this my innocence prevail
When your fair name detraction should assail?
And how abhorr'd should I hereafter be
If you should suffer infamy by me?
You fear it not one half so much, you say,
As you are loth I should depart away,
And hap what will, you think to be content
Whilst I am here, and you still innocent.
Indeed, those friends approve I not which may
By every slanderous tongue be talk'd away;
But yet I like not him that will not strive,
As much as in him lieth, free to live
From giving just occasions of offence,
For else he vainly brags of innocence;
And so do we, unless that without blame
We purpose with our love to keep our fame.
When your fair name detraction should assail?
And how abhorr'd should I hereafter be
If you should suffer infamy by me?
You fear it not one half so much, you say,
As you are loth I should depart away,
And hap what will, you think to be content
Whilst I am here, and you still innocent.
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By every slanderous tongue be talk'd away;
But yet I like not him that will not strive,
As much as in him lieth, free to live
From giving just occasions of offence,
For else he vainly brags of innocence;
And so do we, unless that without blame
We purpose with our love to keep our fame.
Then let us pleased part; and though the dearness
Of our affection covets both a nearness
In mind and body, let us willingly
Beget a virtue of necessity.
And since we must compelled be to live
By time and place divided, let us strive
In the despite of time and distance, so
That love of virtue may more perfect grow,
And that this separation we lament
May make our meeting fuller of content.
Of our affection covets both a nearness
In mind and body, let us willingly
Beget a virtue of necessity.
And since we must compelled be to live
By time and place divided, let us strive
In the despite of time and distance, so
That love of virtue may more perfect grow,
And that this separation we lament
May make our meeting fuller of content.
Betwixt our bodies, this I'll not deny,
There is a dear respective sympathy,
Which makes us mutually both joy and grieve
As there is cause: and farther, I believe
That our contentment is imperfect till
They have each other in possession still:
But that which in us two I love dare name,
Is 'twixt our souls, and such a powerful flame,
As nothing shall extinguish nor obscure
Whilst their eternal substance doth endure;
No, not our absence, nor that mighty space
Betwixt my home and your abiding-place.
There is a dear respective sympathy,
Which makes us mutually both joy and grieve
As there is cause: and farther, I believe
That our contentment is imperfect till
They have each other in possession still:
But that which in us two I love dare name,
Is 'twixt our souls, and such a powerful flame,
As nothing shall extinguish nor obscure
Whilst their eternal substance doth endure;
No, not our absence, nor that mighty space
Betwixt my home and your abiding-place.
For ere your eyes my eyes had ever seen,
When many thousand furlongs lay between
Our unknown bodies, and before that you
Had seen my face, or thought the same to view,
You most entirely loved me, you say;
Which shows our souls had then found out the way
To know each other, and unseen of us,
To make our bodies meet unthought of thus.
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Our unknown bodies, and before that you
Had seen my face, or thought the same to view,
You most entirely loved me, you say;
Which shows our souls had then found out the way
To know each other, and unseen of us,
To make our bodies meet unthought of thus.
Then much less now shall hill, or dale, or grove,
Or that great tract of ground which must remove
My body from you, there my soul confine,
To keep it back from yours, or yours from mine.
Nay, being more acquainted than they were,
And active spirits, that can anywhere
Within a moment meet, they to and fro
Will every minute to each other go,
And we shall love with that dear love wherein
Will neither be offence nor cause of sin.
Or that great tract of ground which must remove
My body from you, there my soul confine,
To keep it back from yours, or yours from mine.
Nay, being more acquainted than they were,
And active spirits, that can anywhere
Within a moment meet, they to and fro
Will every minute to each other go,
And we shall love with that dear love wherein
Will neither be offence nor cause of sin.
Yea, whereas carnal love is ever colder
As youth decays, and as the flesh grows older,
And, when the body is dissolved, must
Be buried with oblivion in the dust,
We then shall dearer grow, and this our love,
Which now imperfect is, shall perfect prove,
For there's no mortal power can rob true friends
Of that which noblest amity attends,
Nor any separation that is able
To make the virtuous lovers miserable.
Since, when disasters threaten most dejection,
Their goodness maketh strongest their affection,
And that which works in others' loves denial
In them more noble makes it by the trial.
As youth decays, and as the flesh grows older,
And, when the body is dissolved, must
Be buried with oblivion in the dust,
We then shall dearer grow, and this our love,
Which now imperfect is, shall perfect prove,
For there's no mortal power can rob true friends
Of that which noblest amity attends,
Nor any separation that is able
To make the virtuous lovers miserable.
Since, when disasters threaten most dejection,
Their goodness maketh strongest their affection,
And that which works in others' loves denial
In them more noble makes it by the trial.
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'Tis true that when we part we know not whether
These bodies shall for ever meet together,
As you have said. Yet, wherefore should we grieve,
Since we a better meeting do believe?
If we did also know that when we die
This love should perish everlastingly,
And that we must, as brutish creatures do,
Lose with our bodies all our dearness too,
Our separation then a sorrow were
Which mortal heart had never power to bear,
And we should faint and die to think upon
The passions would be felt when I were gone.
But seeing in the soul our love is plac'd,
And seeing souls of death shall never taste,
No death can end our love—nay, when we die,
Our souls, that now in chains and fetters lie,
Shall meet more freely to partake that joy,
Compar'd to which our friendship's but a toy,
And for each bitterness in this our love
We shall a thousand sweet contentments prove.
These bodies shall for ever meet together,
As you have said. Yet, wherefore should we grieve,
Since we a better meeting do believe?
If we did also know that when we die
This love should perish everlastingly,
And that we must, as brutish creatures do,
Lose with our bodies all our dearness too,
Our separation then a sorrow were
Which mortal heart had never power to bear,
And we should faint and die to think upon
The passions would be felt when I were gone.
But seeing in the soul our love is plac'd,
And seeing souls of death shall never taste,
No death can end our love—nay, when we die,
Our souls, that now in chains and fetters lie,
Shall meet more freely to partake that joy,
Compar'd to which our friendship's but a toy,
And for each bitterness in this our love
We shall a thousand sweet contentments prove.
Meanwhile, we that together living may
Through human weaknesses be led astray,
And unawares make that affection foul
Which virtue yet keeps blameless in the soul,
By absence shall preserved be as clean
As to be kept in our best thoughts we mean,
And in our prayers for each other shall
Give and receive more kindnesses than all
The world can yield us; and when other men
Whose love is carnal are tormented when
Death calls them hence, because they robbed be
Of all their hope for evermore to see
The object of their love, we shall avoid
That bitter anguish wherewith they are cloy'd.
And whensoe'er it happens thou or I
Shall feel the time approaching us to die,
It shall not grieve us at our latest breath
To mind each other on the bed of death,
Because of any oversight or sin
Whereof we guilty in our souls have bin;
Nor will death fear us, 'cause we shall perceive
That these contentments which we had not leave
To take now we are living, shall be gain'd
When our imprison'd souls shall be unchain'd:
Nay, rather wish to die, we might possess
The sweet fruition of that happiness
Which we shall then receive in the perfection
Of Him that is the fullness of affection.
Through human weaknesses be led astray,
And unawares make that affection foul
Which virtue yet keeps blameless in the soul,
By absence shall preserved be as clean
As to be kept in our best thoughts we mean,
And in our prayers for each other shall
Give and receive more kindnesses than all
The world can yield us; and when other men
Whose love is carnal are tormented when
Death calls them hence, because they robbed be
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The object of their love, we shall avoid
That bitter anguish wherewith they are cloy'd.
And whensoe'er it happens thou or I
Shall feel the time approaching us to die,
It shall not grieve us at our latest breath
To mind each other on the bed of death,
Because of any oversight or sin
Whereof we guilty in our souls have bin;
Nor will death fear us, 'cause we shall perceive
That these contentments which we had not leave
To take now we are living, shall be gain'd
When our imprison'd souls shall be unchain'd:
Nay, rather wish to die, we might possess
The sweet fruition of that happiness
Which we shall then receive in the perfection
Of Him that is the fullness of affection.
If time prevented not, I had in store
To comfort thee so many reasons more,
That thou wouldst leave to grieve, although we should
Each other's persons never more behold.
But there is hope. And then, that know you may
True friends can in their absence find the way
To compass their contentments whom they love,
You shall ere long the power it hath approve.
Meanwhile, you still are dear; yea, live or die,
My soul shall love you everlastingly.
And howsoe'er there seem such cause of sorrow,
Yet those that part and think to meet to-morrow
Death may divide to-night, and as before
Their fear was less, their grief will be the more.
Since, therefore, whether far I live or nigh
There is in meeting an uncertainty,
Let us for that which surest is provide,
Part like those friends whom nothing can divide;
And since we lovers first became, that we
Might to our power each other's comfort be,
Let's not the sweetness of our love destroy,
But turn these weepings into tears of joy.
On which condition I do give thee this,
To be both mine and sorrow's parting kiss.
To comfort thee so many reasons more,
That thou wouldst leave to grieve, although we should
Each other's persons never more behold.
But there is hope. And then, that know you may
True friends can in their absence find the way
To compass their contentments whom they love,
You shall ere long the power it hath approve.
Meanwhile, you still are dear; yea, live or die,
My soul shall love you everlastingly.
And howsoe'er there seem such cause of sorrow,
Yet those that part and think to meet to-morrow
Death may divide to-night, and as before
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Since, therefore, whether far I live or nigh
There is in meeting an uncertainty,
Let us for that which surest is provide,
Part like those friends whom nothing can divide;
And since we lovers first became, that we
Might to our power each other's comfort be,
Let's not the sweetness of our love destroy,
But turn these weepings into tears of joy.
On which condition I do give thee this,
To be both mine and sorrow's parting kiss.
Philarete.
| The Poetry of George Wither | |