The poems of George Daniel ... From the original mss. in the British Museum: Hitherto unprinted. Edited, with introduction, notes, and illustrations, portrait, &c. By the Rev. Alexander B. Grosart: In four volumes |
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II. |
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II. |
III. |
IV. |
V. |
VI. |
VII. |
VIII. |
IX. | ODE IX.
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X. |
XI. |
XII. |
XIII. |
XIV. |
XV. |
XVI. |
XVII. |
XVIII. |
XIX. |
XX. |
XXI. |
XXII. |
XXIII. |
XXIV. |
XXV. |
XXVI. |
XXVII. |
XXVIII. |
XXIX. |
XXX. |
XXXI. |
XXXII. |
XXXIII. |
XXXIV. |
XXXV. |
XXXVI. |
XXXVII. |
XXXVIII. |
XXXIX. |
XL. |
XLI. |
XLII. |
XLIII. |
XLIV. |
XLV. |
XLVI. |
XLVII. |
XLVIII. |
XLIX. |
L. |
LI. |
LII. |
LIII. |
LIV. |
LV. |
LVI. |
LVII. |
LVIII. |
LIX. |
III, IV. |
The poems of George Daniel | ||
20
ODE IX.
[Goe, dote, fond Lover; Seeke]
1
Goe, dote, fond Lover; Seeke(To smooth lascivious Rhime)
Some beautie, where Sublime
Graces adorne the Cheeke;
Court Lips, or Eyes,
Or what you prise,
With most Affection, as you can devise.
2
And see how long they pleaseThe flitting Sence, with Ioy;
Either they kill or Cloy,
And aggravate Disease;
Noe reall good
Is vnderstood,
Where the maine obiect is but Flesh and Blood.
3
But if you would beholdA Beautie to Entice;
Revert your pur-blind Eyes;
Too blind, and yet too bold.
I'le Shew you here,
In her true Sphere,
Perfection, crownéd in a golden Chaire.
21
4
'Gainst which the Rage of TimeCould never yet prevaile;
Nor doth She want the Haile
Of Poets, in a Rhime;
Remaining yonge,
Although she sprunge
Ere Time, the Chaos into Forme had flung.
5
Nor Shall you need to bringAttributes to her praise;
For her Aspect will raise
A Store too vast to Singe;
Such as would pose
Art to disclose
In any verse, and fill a Rheme of Prose.
6
This is that Beautie whichStrikes dead all humane Sence;
From whose sole Influence,
All Creatures are made rich;
And what wee praise,
Soe manie waies,
Are but light Sparkes, shot from these liveing raies.
22
7
Bring, bring the loftie verse,And Sonnet out your Dayes;
Let everie word be praise,
And everie Accent peirce
The Ears of Men
With wonder; when
You faile, goe to this Source and fill your Pen.
8
Here, never Ending Love,Runns in a liveing Streame;
Peace sitts vnder the Beame
Of Glorie; all that move
Is holie here:
Pale Doubt and ffeare
Exiléd are, and Envie comes not neare.
9
The witts who sung of oldTheir feilds of lasting pleasure,
Meant this; though in some measure,
(Perhaps) it would not hold;
For humane witt
Can onlie ffitt,
The Sence with Ioy; Soe much they failed of it.
23
10
Bring in fresh Chaplets: CrowneHer, worthy all your praise;
And mightie Rapture raise
To sing her Name; lay downe
Your brittle Theame,
Caught in a Dreame,
And raise a Character, in her great name.
The poems of George Daniel | ||