 | Poesis Rediviva |  |
68
To a Lady wadrring why I prais'd a yellow skin.
Gilt pictures Papists for devotion use;
To raise my fancy gilded skin I choose:
No face I see but yellow doth commend;
An Angel is the fee doth th' Cause befriend.
What mad man silver would to gold compare?
Shall we praise white 'fore those that yellow are?
I prais'd a golden skin, but fanci'd there
The gold that reall in her virtues were.
Or 'twas the Image I did there behold
Of what I lov'd, an El'zabeth in Gold.
Say not the yellow Jaundies in my eye,
Or that I new broach Magus heresie:
While in the Church was gold, there was more zeal:
Who gold from thence, sure did Religion steal.
Who picture Angels, make them golden wings;
As if 'tis Angel gold heav'ns blessings brings.
'Tis wonder working gold we Angels call:
None think him blest, no Angel hath at all.
What though I ransack th' treasuries of the deep,
Know all that Nature doth confined keep?
Want gold, though I know all, I nothing know.
Schoolmen say Angels teach all things below;
'Tis gold makes honour'd, lovely, virtuous, wise,
Nay holy too: ah who would gold despise!
An Asse with gold but laden Towns may take,
Nay Kingdomes to her ears Idolaters make.
Was there a Swines fac'd Lady rich indeed,
The Jew would Christian turn, on swines flesh feed.
Yet some rich discontents call glorious hell;
What shall there not be heav'n where Angels dwell?
That joyes be currant virtues Image take;
Let Love be th' gold where you th' impression make;
Love yellow skin for golden may mistake,
Love's an Elixir gold of brasse may make.
Love can the rag of a blew point make more,
Then all the riches pave blew Neptunes shore.
To raise my fancy gilded skin I choose:
No face I see but yellow doth commend;
An Angel is the fee doth th' Cause befriend.
What mad man silver would to gold compare?
Shall we praise white 'fore those that yellow are?
I prais'd a golden skin, but fanci'd there
The gold that reall in her virtues were.
Or 'twas the Image I did there behold
Of what I lov'd, an El'zabeth in Gold.
Say not the yellow Jaundies in my eye,
Or that I new broach Magus heresie:
While in the Church was gold, there was more zeal:
Who gold from thence, sure did Religion steal.
Who picture Angels, make them golden wings;
As if 'tis Angel gold heav'ns blessings brings.
'Tis wonder working gold we Angels call:
None think him blest, no Angel hath at all.
What though I ransack th' treasuries of the deep,
Know all that Nature doth confined keep?
Want gold, though I know all, I nothing know.
Schoolmen say Angels teach all things below;
'Tis gold makes honour'd, lovely, virtuous, wise,
Nay holy too: ah who would gold despise!
An Asse with gold but laden Towns may take,
Nay Kingdomes to her ears Idolaters make.
Was there a Swines fac'd Lady rich indeed,
The Jew would Christian turn, on swines flesh feed.
69
What shall there not be heav'n where Angels dwell?
That joyes be currant virtues Image take;
Let Love be th' gold where you th' impression make;
Love yellow skin for golden may mistake,
Love's an Elixir gold of brasse may make.
Love can the rag of a blew point make more,
Then all the riches pave blew Neptunes shore.
Love is the gold that with no fire will change,
No losse will alter, nor no time estrange.
No losse will alter, nor no time estrange.
| Poesis Rediviva | |