 | Poems |  |
52
Upon the sicknesse of (E.S.)
Mvst she then languish, and we sorrow thus,And no kind god helpe her, nor pitty us?
Is justice fled from heaven? can that permit
A foule deformed ravisher to sit
Vpon her Virgin cheek, and pull from thence
The Rose-buds in their maiden excellence?
To spread cold palenesie on her lips, and chase
The frighted Rubies from their native place?
To lick up with his searching slames, a flood
Of dissolv'd Corall, flowing in her blood;
And with the dampes of his infectious breath,
Print on her brow moyst characters of death?
Must the cleare light, 'gainst course of nature cease
In her faire eyes, and yet the flames encrease?
Must feavers shake this goodly tree, and all
That ripened fruit from the faire branches fall,
Which Princes have desir'd to taste? must she
Who hath preserv'd her spotlesse chastitie
From all solicitation, now at last
By Agues, and diseases be embrast?
Forbid it holy Dian; else who shall
Pay vowes, or let one graine of Incense fall
53
No better this thy zealous Votaresse?
Haste then, O maiden Goddesse, to her ayde,
Let on thy quiver her pale cheeke be layd;
And rock her fainting body in thine armes;
Then let the God of Musick, with still charmes,
Her restlesse eyes in peacefull slumbers close,
And with soft straines sweeten her calme repose.
Cupid descend; and whilst Apollo sings,
Fanning the coole ayre with thy panting wings,
Ever supply her with refreshing wind;
Let thy faire mother, with her tresses bind
Her labouring temples, with whose balmie sweat,
She shall perfume her hairie Coronet,
Whose precious drops, shall upon every fold
Hang, like rich Pearles about a wreath of gold:
Her looser locks, as they unbraded lye,
Shall spread themselves into a Canopie:
Vnder whose shadow let her rest secure
From chilling cold, or burning Calenture;
Vnlesse she freeze with yee of chast desires,
Or holy Hymen kindle nuptiall fires.
And when at last Death comes to pierce her heart.
Convey into his hand thy golden dart.
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