The poems of William Habington Edited with introduction and commentary by Kenneth Allott |
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Quoniam ego in flagella paratus sum. DAVID.
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 | The poems of William Habington |  |
Quoniam ego in flagella paratus sum. DAVID.
Fix me on some bleake precipice,
Where I ten thousand yeares may stand:
Made now a statue of ice,
Then by the sommer scorcht and tan'd!
Where I ten thousand yeares may stand:
Made now a statue of ice,
Then by the sommer scorcht and tan'd!
Place me alone in some fraile boate
'Mid th' horrors of an angry Sea:
Where I while time shall move, may floate
Despairing either land or day!
'Mid th' horrors of an angry Sea:
Where I while time shall move, may floate
Despairing either land or day!
137
Or under earth my youth confine
To th' night and silence of a cell:
Where Scorpions may my limbes entwine.
O God! So thou forgive me hell.
To th' night and silence of a cell:
Where Scorpions may my limbes entwine.
O God! So thou forgive me hell.
Æternitie! when I thinke thee,
(Which never any end must have,
Nor knew'st beginning) and fore-see
Hell is design'd for sinne a grave.
(Which never any end must have,
Nor knew'st beginning) and fore-see
Hell is design'd for sinne a grave.
My frighted flesh trembles to dust,
My blood ebbes fearefully away:
Both guilty that they did to lust
And vanity, my youth betray.
My blood ebbes fearefully away:
Both guilty that they did to lust
And vanity, my youth betray.
My eyes, which from each beautious sight
Drew Spider-like blacke venome in:
Close like the marigold at night
Opprest with dew to bath my sin.
Drew Spider-like blacke venome in:
Close like the marigold at night
Opprest with dew to bath my sin.
My eares shut up that easie dore
Which did proud fallacies admit:
And vow to heare no follies more;
Deafe to the charmes of sinne and wit.
Which did proud fallacies admit:
And vow to heare no follies more;
Deafe to the charmes of sinne and wit.
My hands (which when they toucht some faire,
Imagin'd such an excellence,
As th' Ermines skin ungentle were)
Contract themselves, and loose all sence.
Imagin'd such an excellence,
As th' Ermines skin ungentle were)
Contract themselves, and loose all sence.
But you bold sinners! still pursue
Your valiant wickednesse, and brave
Th' Almighty Iustice: hee'le subdue
And make you cowards in the grave.
Your valiant wickednesse, and brave
Th' Almighty Iustice: hee'le subdue
And make you cowards in the grave.
Then when he as your judge appeares,
In vaine you'le tremble and lament.
And hope to soften him with teares,
To no advantage penitent.
In vaine you'le tremble and lament.
And hope to soften him with teares,
To no advantage penitent.
138
Then will you scorne those treasures, which
So fiercely now you doate upon:
Then curse those pleasures did bewitch
You to this sad illusion.
So fiercely now you doate upon:
Then curse those pleasures did bewitch
You to this sad illusion.
The neighb'ring mountaines which you shall
Wooe to oppresse you with their weight:
Disdainefull will deny to fall;
By a sad death to ease your fate.
Wooe to oppresse you with their weight:
Disdainefull will deny to fall;
By a sad death to ease your fate.
In vaine some midnight storme at sea
To swallow you, you will desire:
In vaine upon the wheele youle pray
Broken with torments to expire.
To swallow you, you will desire:
In vaine upon the wheele youle pray
Broken with torments to expire.
Death, at the sight of which you start,
In a mad fury then you'le Court:
Yet hate th' expressions of your heart,
Which onely shall be sigh'd for sport.
In a mad fury then you'le Court:
Yet hate th' expressions of your heart,
Which onely shall be sigh'd for sport.
No sorrow then shall enter in
With pitty the great judges eares.
This moment's ours. Once dead, his sin
Man cannot expiate with teares.
With pitty the great judges eares.
This moment's ours. Once dead, his sin
Man cannot expiate with teares.
| The poems of William Habington | |