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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 | The Phanseys of William Cavendish Marquis of Newcastle |  |
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Love's Consideration of his Mistres' Picture
When View'd your Picture, so divine,
And did consider Every line,
The Figure, and each mingl'd Colour,
That life it selfe could not be fuller;
So Pensil'd by the Paynter's Arte
That att my Eyes it struck my Harte;
And did consider Every line,
The Figure, and each mingl'd Colour,
That life it selfe could not be fuller;
So Pensil'd by the Paynter's Arte
That att my Eyes it struck my Harte;
And all Love's Passions it did move
That ever yett was knowne in Love.
Then thought to touch that parte, then this,
And then to steale a gentle Kisse;
But check't those thoughts as Sinne, and then,
Turn'd all to Eys, look't on't agen.
That ever yett was knowne in Love.
Then thought to touch that parte, then this,
And then to steale a gentle Kisse;
But check't those thoughts as Sinne, and then,
Turn'd all to Eys, look't on't agen.
The more I look't, that Urg'd Each thought
To thinke a kisse now not a falte,
Nor Rudenesse in my Lips att all
On your twinnes temptinge lips to fall;
Since their magnettick power did drawe
Mine to them by love's, Nature's, lawe.
To thinke a kisse now not a falte,
Nor Rudenesse in my Lips att all
On your twinnes temptinge lips to fall;
Since their magnettick power did drawe
Mine to them by love's, Nature's, lawe.
When Kiste, then sigh'd and drop't a teare
Because my touch found you not there;
T'was not your Picture I did see
Drawne by the Paynter, but in me
By first Impressions; and this newe
Picture those motions did renewe.
Because my touch found you not there;
T'was not your Picture I did see
Drawne by the Paynter, but in me
By first Impressions; and this newe
Picture those motions did renewe.
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Those Speties, cousinnge, glidinge passe
Like 'Sissus in his water Glasse;
But truly all thinges doe obtaine
Nothinge but motion in our Braine.
Since touch not pleas'd but onely sight,
I'le winke, so please my Touch delight.
Like 'Sissus in his water Glasse;
But truly all thinges doe obtaine
Nothinge but motion in our Braine.
Since touch not pleas'd but onely sight,
I'le winke, so please my Touch delight.
| The Phanseys of William Cavendish Marquis of Newcastle | |