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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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6 Love's Creature
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11

6
Love's Creature

I Now sitt downe with Penne and Inke and Paper,
Invoake my Muse by my dimme single Taper.
Faire as your selfe; for ther's nothinge so faire,
Your Skinne is sulli'd with Transparent Aire;
Well favour'd like your selfe; it must be so,
For there is nothinge like you that I know.
Here is no Simulisinge, you must know it;
And if not that, why then you spoyle a Poett.
Then your discription is, to do you righte,
No Sircumscription, beinge infinite.
Incomprehensible you are, oh, then
To comprehend you how can Mortall Men?
Then some Unexpressible thinge thou arte,
That fills my Immortallity and Harte
With over joye; but whether that or this
I can not call it, or know what it is.
But there it is, somethinge as farre above
Man's kindnesse, or all Mortall Humayne love,
As Infinite to finite thinges; wee'r lesse,
Since we poore Creatures att you cannot guesse.
Sweare by thy selfe then; and so for my parte
To tell what thou art, thou art what thou arte.
I sweare by thee, all other Oaths refrayne,
That I will never take thy name in Vaine:
As I love thee, and thou lov'st onely me,
Thy thankefull creature I will Ever bee.