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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| 25. | 25 Love's Murder |
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 | The Phanseys of William Cavendish Marquis of Newcastle |  |
34
25
Love's Murder
When your least sadder looke on me, it still
Doth make me thinke which way my selfe to kill;
Then Melancholy Vapors presse my Brayne;
Feeds on dispare all Comforts, Joy disdayne.
Phansies a Valte, darke, Under ground, like hell,
Hung all with black; and with a fatall Spell
Invoakes th'infernall Speritts, as they're Divells,
For to appeare, and counsell mee with Evills;
But their advise so childishely did tell
As I did kick and Cudgell them to hell.
Thoughts multiplyinge thoughts, how to discover
The next way to Cruelty for a lover:
Sent for a Glorious burning Taper bright,
Though a darke deed, durst doe it by the light;
Pul'd off my Dublett, all my Shert did teare,
To see my naked brest, and, without feare,
With my drawne sword wounded that Very Parte
That led Unto my more then wounded harte;
And furiously my blood gusht out, but found
Your name it writt still as it fell o'th' Ground,
Till it droun'd that and me, being all ore;
Delightfull bathinge thus in my owne gore.
My last breath nam'd you, but did not repent;
Your purer Name to heaven thus I sent.
So parted with you; thus have sevrall fames;
You sav'd, and I to Everlasting flames.
| The Phanseys of William Cavendish Marquis of Newcastle | |