University of Virginia Library

Against abused Loue.

Shall I stand still, and see the world on fire,
While wanton Writers ioyne in one desire,
To blow the coales of Loue, and make them burne,
Till they consume, or to the Chaos turne
This beautious frame by them so foully rent?
That wise men feare, lest they those flames preuent,
Which for the latest day th' Almightie keepes
In orbes of fire, or in the hellish deepes.
Best wits, while they possest with fury, thinke
They taste the Muses sober Well, and drinke
Of Phœbus Goblet (now a starry signe)
Mistake the Cup, and write in heat of wine.
Then let my cold hand here some water cast,
And drown their warmth, with drops of sweeter taste,
Mine angry lines shall whip the purblind Page.
And some will reade them in a chaster age;
But since true loue is most diuine, I know,
How can I fight with loue, and call it so?
Is it not Loue? It was not now: (O strange!)
Time and ill custome, workers of all change,
Haue made it loue, men oft impose not names
By Adams rule, but what their passion frames.
And since our Childhood taught vs to approue
Our Fathers words, we yeeld and call it loue.
Examples of past times our deeds should sway;
But we must speake the language of to day:
Vse hath no bounds, it may prophane once more
The name of God, which first an Idoll bore.
How many titles fit for meaner groomes,
Are knighted now, and marshal'd in high roomes!
And many which once good, and great were thought,
Posterity, to vice and basenesse brought,
As it hath this of loue, and we must bow,
As States vsurping Tyrants raignes allow,
And after-ages reckon by their yeeres:
Such force Possession, though iniurîous, beares:
Or as a wrongfull title, or foule crime
Made lawfull by a Statute for the time,
With reu'rend estimation blindes our eies,
And is call'd iust, in spight of all the wise.
Then heau'nly loue, this loathed name forsake,
And some of thy more glorious titles take:
Sunne of the Soule, cleare beauty, liuing fire,
Celestiall light, which dost pure hearts inspire,
While Lust, thy Bastard brother, shalbe knowne
By loues wrong'd name that Louers may him owne.
So oft with Hereticks such tearmes we vse,
As they can brooke, not such as we would chuse:
And since he takes the throne of Loue exil'd,
In all our Letters he shall Loue be stil'd:
But if true Loue vouchsafe againe his sight,
No word of mine shall preiudice his right:
So Kings by caution with their Rebels treate,
As with free States, when they are growne too great.
If common Drunkards onely can expresse
To life the sad effects of their excesse:
How can I write of Loue, who neuer felt
His dreadfull arrow, nor did euer melt
My heart away before a female flame,
Like waxen statues, which the witches frame?
I must confesse if I knew one that had
Bene poyson'd with this deadly draught, and mad,
And afterward in Bedlem well reclaym'd
To perfect sence, and in his wits not maym'd:
I would the feruour of my Muse restraine,
And let this subiect for his taske remaine:
But aged wand'rers sooner will declare
Their Eleusinian rites, then Louers dare
Renounce the Deuils pompe, and Christians die:
So much preuailes a painted Idols eye.
Then since of them like Iewes we can conuert
Scarce one in many yeeres, their iust desert,
By selfe confession, neuer can appeare;
But on presumptions wee proceed, and there
The Iudges innocence most credit winnes:
True men trie theeues, and Saints describe foule sinnes.
This Monster loue by day, and lust by night,
Is full of burning fire, but voyde of light,
Left here on earth to keepe poore mortals out
Of errour, who of Hell-fire else would doubt.
Such is that wandring nightly flame, which leades
Th' vnwary passenger, vntill he treades
His last step on the steepe and craggy walles
Of some high mountaine, whence he headlong falles
A vapor first extracted from the Stewes,
(Which with new fewell still the lampe renewes)
And with a Pandars sulph'rous breath inflam'd,
Became a Meteor, for destruction fram'd,
Like some prodigious Comet which foretells
Disasters to the Realme on which it dwells.
And now hath this false light preuail'd so farre
That most obserue, it is a fixed starre,
Yea as their load-starre, by whose beames impure,
They guide their ships, in courses not secure,
Bewitcht and daz'led with the glaring sight
Of this proud Fiend, attir'd in Angels light,
Who still delights his darksome smoke to turne
To rayes, which seeme t'enlighten, not to burne:
He leades them to the tree, and they beleeue
The fruite is sweete, so he deluded Eue.
But when they once haue tasted of the feasts,
They quench that sparke, which seuers men frō beasts
And feele effects of our first Parents fall
Depriu'd of reason, and to sence made thrall.
Thus is the miserable Louer bound
With fancies, and in fond affection drown'd.
In him no faculty of man is seene,
But when he sighes a Sonnet to his Queene:
This makes him more then man, a Poet fit
For such false Poets, as make passion wit.
Who lookes within an emptie caske, may see,
Where once a soule was, and againe may be,
Which by this diffrence from a Corse is knowne:
One is in pow'r to haue life, both haue none:
For Louers slipp'ry Soules (as they confesse,
Without extending racke, or straining presse)
By transmigration to their Mistresse flow:
Pithagoras instructs his Schollers so,
Who did for penance lustfull minds confine
To leade a second life, in Goates, and Swine.
Then Loue is death, and driues the soule to dwell
In this betraying harbour, which like hell
Giues neuer backe her bootie, and containes
A thousand firebrands, whips, and restlesse paines:
And which is worse, so bitter are those wheeles,
That many hells at once, the Louer feeles,
And hath his heart dissected into parts,
That it may meete with other double harts.
This loue stands neuer sure, it wants a ground,
It makes no ordred course, it findes no bound,
It aymes at nothing, it no comfort tastes,
But while the pleasure, and the passion lasts.
Yet there are flames, which two hearts one can make;
Not for th' affections, but the obiects sake.
That burning glasse, where beames disperst incline
Vnto a point, and shoot forth in a line.
This noble Loue hath Axeltree, and Poles
Wherein it moues, and gets eternall goales:
These reuolutions, like the heau'nly Spheres,
Make all the periods equall as the yeeres:
And when this time of motion finisht is,
It ends with that great Yeere of endlesse blisse.