University of Virginia Library

The Descripcōn of a Woman.

Whose head befringed with bescattered tresses
Seemes like Apollo's when the morne he blesses
Or like vnto Aurora when shee setts
Her long disheuel'd rose-crown'd tramaletts:
Her forehead smooth full polisht bright and high
Bares in it selfe a gracefull maiestye.
Vnder the which twoe crawling eyebrowes twine
Like to the tendrells of a flattring vine,
Vnder whose shade twoe starry sparkling eyes
Are beawtifi'd with faire fring'd canopies.
Her comly nose with vniformall grace
Like purest white stands in the middle place
Parting the paire, as wee may well suppose
Each cheeke resembling still a damaske rose,
Which like a garden manifestly show
How roses lillies and carnations grow,
Which sweetly mixed both with white and redd
Like rose leaves, white and redd seeme mingled.
Then nature for a sweet allurement setts
Twoe smelling swelling [bashful] Cherriletts,
The which with ruby rednes being tipt
Doe speake a virgin merry cherry-lip't.
Over the which a meet sweet skin is drawne
Which makes them shewe like roses vnder lawne.
These be the Ruby portalls and devine
Which ope themselves to shewe an holy shrine
Whose breath is rich perfume, that to the sence
Smells like the burnt Sabæan Frankinsense
In which the tongue, though but a member small,
Stands garded with a rosy hilly wall,
And her white teeth which in the gum̄s are sett
Like pearle and gold make one rich Carcanett.
Next doth her chinne with dimpled beawty striue
For his plumpe white and smooth prrogatiue,
At whose faire topp to please the sight there growes
The blessed Image of a blushing rose
Mou'd by the chinne whose motion causeth this
That both her lipps doe pt, doe meete, doe kisse;
Her eares, which like twoe Laborinths are plac'd
On either side with rich rare Jewells grac'd,
Mooving a question whether that by them
The gem is grac'd? or they grac'd by the Jemme?
But the foundacōn of this Architect
Is the swan-stayning faire rare stately neck
Which with ambitious humblenes stands vnder
Bearing aloft this rich round world of wonder.
In wch the veynes ymplanted seeme to lye
Like loving vines hid vnder Ivorye,
Soe full of clarrett that whoe soe pricks a vine
May see it sprout forth streames of muscadine.
Her brest (a place for beawtyes throne most fitt)
Beares vp twoe globes where loue and pleasure sitt,
Which headed with twoe rich round rubies showe
Like wanton rose buds growing out of snowe,
And in the milky vally that's betweene
Sits Cupid kissing of his mother Queene,
[Fingring] the paps that feele like sleeded silke
And prest a little they will weepe new milke.
Then comes the belly seated next belowe
Like a faire mountaine in Riphean snowe,
Where nature in a whitenes without spott
Hath in the middle ty'de a Gordian knott
Or ells that she on that white waxen hill
Hath seal'd the promise of her vtmost skill.
But now my muse hath spi'de a darke descent
From this soe peereles pretious permanent,
A milky high waye that direction yeilds
Vnto the port mouth of th'Elisian feilds,
A place desir'd of all but got by theis
Whome love admitts to this Hesperides.
Here's golden fruit that farre exceeds all price
Growing in this love garded paradice.
Aboue the entrance there is written this
This is the portall to the bowre of blisse.
Through mid'st thereof a christall stream there flowes
Passing the sweet sweet of a musky rose.
Now loue invites me to survey her thighes
Swelling in likenes like twoe christall skyes
With plumpe soft flesh of mettle pure and fine
Resembling sheilds both smooth and christalline.
Hence rise those twoe ambitious hills that looke
Into the middle [most] sight pleasing crooke
Which for the better beawtifying shrowdes
Its humble selfe twixt twoe aspiring cloudes,
Which to the knees by nature fastned on
Deriue their overwell grac'd motion.
Her leggs with twoe cleire calves like siluer tride
Kindly swell vp with little pretty pride,
Leaving a distance for the beawtious small
To beawtify the legg and foote withall.
Then lowly yet most lovely stand the feete,
Round short and cleire, like pounded spices sweete
And whatsoever thing they tread vpon
They make it scent like bruized Cinnamon.
The lovely shoulders now allure the eye
To see two tablets of pure Ivory
From wch two armes like branches seem to spread
With tender ryne and silver coloured,
With little hands and fingers long and small
To grace a Lute, a vyall, Virginall.
In length each finger doth his next excell,
Each richly headed with a pearly shell
Richer then that faire pretious virtuos horne
That armes the forehead of the Vnicorne.
Thus every part in contrariety
Meets in the whole and maks a harmony
As divers strings do singly disagree
But form'd by number make sweet melody.
Vnto the Idoll of ye work devine
I consecrate this loving work of mine,
Bowing my lips vnto yt stately root
Whence beawty springs, and thus I kisse thy foot.