The Grecian Story Being an Historical Poem, in Five Books. To which is Annex'd The Grove: Consisting of Divers Shorter Poems upon several Subjects. By J. H. [i.e. John Harington] |
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 | The Grecian Story |  |
Hence proves the Cause; 'tis so, Love's wounding Dart
Transpierced hath (Unarm'd) his Tender Heart;
Thrown from your Eye, which foul Effect displays,
Long Watchful Nights, and sad, complaining Days.
Good, Gentle Youth! you may be Informed still
More Glory 'tis to save by far, then Kill.
My Self withal that choicely valu'd Son
Should owe like Debt to You, ere Lost, undon.
'Tis for grand Cause, the Light of my own Eye
And your true Servant, next, sworn Votary
That thus I Plead, Perswade, Things proving so,
Fair Innocence should not foul Murth'ress shew.
Nor move I strange, Injurious Thing, that jars
With Friendship ought; tho from th' unkinder Stars
Small Turfy ground Enjoy'd, He's Rich within;
Whose Breast appears Young Virtue-magazin
For Person, Parts by None whatere Excell'd;
If Mothers do not Doat, Prime Piece beheld.
Nature (well Task'd) not Playd at all when made him;
And my Alliance weigh'd, let none Degrade him
From Nobleness, if that Transcendent Mind
Stile him not so: for Wealthy Lands combin'd,
You'l have Estate for Both; let sordid Moals
Dig still beneath, to Brave and Virtuous Souls
All's in that Term, Enough: besides 'twill prove
Obliging Grant, ingage to stronger Love.
For Titles, last, no Doubt conceived there,
My Son in Wedlock ty'd to th' lawful Heyr,
Shall strait great Lord become, advanced Head;
Styl'd Duke in th' End, Your Father being Dead.
Transpierced hath (Unarm'd) his Tender Heart;
37
Long Watchful Nights, and sad, complaining Days.
Good, Gentle Youth! you may be Informed still
More Glory 'tis to save by far, then Kill.
My Self withal that choicely valu'd Son
Should owe like Debt to You, ere Lost, undon.
'Tis for grand Cause, the Light of my own Eye
And your true Servant, next, sworn Votary
That thus I Plead, Perswade, Things proving so,
Fair Innocence should not foul Murth'ress shew.
Nor move I strange, Injurious Thing, that jars
With Friendship ought; tho from th' unkinder Stars
Small Turfy ground Enjoy'd, He's Rich within;
Whose Breast appears Young Virtue-magazin
For Person, Parts by None whatere Excell'd;
If Mothers do not Doat, Prime Piece beheld.
Nature (well Task'd) not Playd at all when made him;
And my Alliance weigh'd, let none Degrade him
From Nobleness, if that Transcendent Mind
Stile him not so: for Wealthy Lands combin'd,
You'l have Estate for Both; let sordid Moals
Dig still beneath, to Brave and Virtuous Souls
All's in that Term, Enough: besides 'twill prove
Obliging Grant, ingage to stronger Love.
For Titles, last, no Doubt conceived there,
My Son in Wedlock ty'd to th' lawful Heyr,
Shall strait great Lord become, advanced Head;
Styl'd Duke in th' End, Your Father being Dead.
| The Grecian Story | |