The Phanseys of William Cavendish Marquis of Newcastle ::

Wilde Phansey, goe possesse some younger Sole,
Whose giddy humor suffers no controll;
Whose Minde yett hath no bounds settl'd att all,
No Pale about him, Hedg, or Ditch, or wall;
Who hath no Center, cause not Circkl'd in;
Bridles no Passion but is loose to Sinne,
Takes lust for love, runnes over Woman kinde;
Lookes for Contentment, never doth it finde;
His food Inconstancy, and Various winde;
Nothinge like Love about him, but what's blinde;
Such a selfe lover, yett this doth not see.
Thinkes greatest Ladys prostitute must bee
Unto his will; though Under honor's locks,
Courts these, but with a whoore doth gett the Poxe;
Or Els his high ambition Ends in stenche,
Lays his great fury with a Kitchinge wenshe;
Or Else doth worse for to save charges, and
Like a good husband makes for whoore his hand.
Nay, his Vayne glory spoyl'd, growne wretched tame,
Misseinge to lye with a greate lady's fame,
Which was his Second Plott; so all his Payne
To loose his labour, all his dresse in Vayne.
Poore Various Color'd fethers now is lost,
Ribbans att knees, Under his waste; the Coste
Is to no purpose; nor Each ribban'd boote,
Like a Ruff footed Pigion in Each foote;

Nor his greate bunshe of Ribbands in his hatt,
Which hee did buy full deare, hee knows for whatt;
And so do I, some lady to defame her,
When I dare sweare hee knowes not how to name her.
Thus wee will leave him and his weaker Crimes,
Not Wonder att the follys of these tymes.
Hymen makes mee these follys to forbeare;
I move and onely move in my owne Spheere,
Inlightn'd by the holy flame of love;
In my owne Circkle onely I doe move,
Virtue my Orbe; seal'd with a sweeter kisse,
Makes quiett sleepe still softer then it is.
After Religious rights that peace doth bringe,
As my cleer Contience is without a Stinge;
No frowny clouds, darknes, or what is night,
But when I'm out of her beloved sight.
Or, like the Sunne, that powre shee now hath gott
To Inflame others, yett herselfe not hott;
A Presedent of Virtue, shininge bright;
Who lives as good must borrow from her light;
And mortall lovers, waken'd from their dreames,
Can live and love but by our scatter'd Beames.
But Purity of love, they all will say,
Is onely our love, that perpeatuall day;
Our love's Eternall, when our bodys die
Wee'le make one Constellation in the Skie;
And then wee'r Joyn'd againe by pure desire.
Our Soules made one, thus married wee'l mount higher,
And, what so Ever living heer we are,

After our death both bee one fixed starre.
To all Posterity, when shee is nam'd,
Love's Miracle shee shall be call'd, so fam'de;
Love's Diety, so pray'd to shee shall bee:
I lost that starre call'd Lucas, that is shee.

University of Virginia Library

36 Love's Constellation

36
Love's Constellation