The poems of William Habington Edited with introduction and commentary by Kenneth Allott |
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To the Right Honourable the Lady F.
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 | The poems of William Habington |  |
67
To the Right Honourable the Lady F.
Madam.
You saw our loves, & prais'd the mutuall flame:In which as incense to your sacred name
Burnes a religious zeale. May we be lost
To one another, and our fire be frost;
When we omit to pay the tribute due
To worth and vertue, and in them to you:
Who are the soule of women. Others be
But beauteous parts oth' female body; she
Who boasts how many nimble Cupids skip
Through her bright face, is but an eye or lip;
The other who in her soft brests can show
Warme Violets growing in a banke of snow,
And vaunts the lovely wonder, is but skin:
Nor is she but a hand, who holds within
The chrystall violl of her wealthy palme,
The precious sweating of the Easterne balme.
And all these if you them together take,
And joyne with art, will but one body make,
To which the soule each vitall motion gives;
You are infus'd into it, and it lives.
But should you up to your blest mansion flie,
How loath'd an object would the carkasse lie?
You are all mind. Castara when she lookes,
On you th' Epitome of all, that bookes
Or e're tradition taught; who gives such praise
Vnto your sex, that now even custome sayes
He hath a female soule, who ere hath writ
Volumes which learning comprehend, and wit.
Castara cries to me; Search out and find
The Mines of wisedome in her learned mind,
And trace her steps to honour; I aspire
Enough to worth, while I her worth admire.
| The poems of William Habington | |