Divine poems Containing The History of Ionah. Ester. Iob. Sampson. Sions Sonets. Elegies. Written and newly augmented, by Fra: Quarles |
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 | Divine poems |  |
Medit. 2.
Evil manners breed good Lawes: & that's the best
That e're was made of bad: The Persian feast
(Finding the mischiefe that was growne so rife)
Admitted not with men a married wife.
How carefull were they in preserving that,
Which we so watchfull are to violate!
O Chastity the Flower of the soule,
How is thy perfect fairenesse turn'd to foule!
How are thy Blossomes blasted all to dust,
By sudden Lightning of untamed Lust!
How hast thou thus defil'd thy Iv'ry feet!
Thy sweetnesse that was once, how far from sweet!
Where are thy maiden-smiles, thy blushing cheeke?
Thy Lamb-like countenance, so faire, so meeke?
Where is that spotlesse Flower, that while-ere
Within thy lilly bosome thou didst weare?
Has wanton Cupid snatcht it? Hath his Dart
Sent courtly tokens to thy simple heart?
Where dost thou bide? the Country halfe disclaimes thee;
The City wonders when a body names thee.
Or have the rurall woods engrost thee there,
And thus fore-stall'd our empty markets here?
Sure th'art not, or kept where no man showes thee;
Or chang'd so much, scarce man or woman knowes thee.
That e're was made of bad: The Persian feast
(Finding the mischiefe that was growne so rife)
Admitted not with men a married wife.
105
Which we so watchfull are to violate!
O Chastity the Flower of the soule,
How is thy perfect fairenesse turn'd to foule!
How are thy Blossomes blasted all to dust,
By sudden Lightning of untamed Lust!
How hast thou thus defil'd thy Iv'ry feet!
Thy sweetnesse that was once, how far from sweet!
Where are thy maiden-smiles, thy blushing cheeke?
Thy Lamb-like countenance, so faire, so meeke?
Where is that spotlesse Flower, that while-ere
Within thy lilly bosome thou didst weare?
Has wanton Cupid snatcht it? Hath his Dart
Sent courtly tokens to thy simple heart?
Where dost thou bide? the Country halfe disclaimes thee;
The City wonders when a body names thee.
Or have the rurall woods engrost thee there,
And thus fore-stall'd our empty markets here?
Sure th'art not, or kept where no man showes thee;
Or chang'd so much, scarce man or woman knowes thee.
Our Grandame Eve, before it was forbid,
Desired not the fruit, she after did:
Had not the Custome of those times ordain'd
That women from mens feasts should be restrain'd,
Perhaps (Assuerus) Vashti might have dyed
Vnsent for, and thy selfe beene undenyed:
Such are the the fruits of mirth's and wine's abuse,
Customes must crack, & love must breake his truce,
Conjugall bands must loose, and sullen Hate
Ensues the Feast, where Wine's immoderate.
Desired not the fruit, she after did:
Had not the Custome of those times ordain'd
That women from mens feasts should be restrain'd,
Perhaps (Assuerus) Vashti might have dyed
Vnsent for, and thy selfe beene undenyed:
Such are the the fruits of mirth's and wine's abuse,
Customes must crack, & love must breake his truce,
Conjugall bands must loose, and sullen Hate
Ensues the Feast, where Wine's immoderate.
More difficult it is, and greater skill
To beare a mischiefe, 'than prevent an ill:
Passion is naturall, but to bridle Passion,
Is more divine, and vertues operation:
To doe amisse, is Natures act; to erre,
Is but a wretched mortalls Character;
But to prevent the danger of the ill,
Is more then Man, surpassing humane skill:
Who playes a happy game with crafty slight,
Confirmes himselfe but fortunes Favorite;
But he that husbands well an ill-dealt game,
Deserves the credit of a Gamesters name;
To beare a mischiefe, 'than prevent an ill:
Passion is naturall, but to bridle Passion,
Is more divine, and vertues operation:
106
Is but a wretched mortalls Character;
But to prevent the danger of the ill,
Is more then Man, surpassing humane skill:
Who playes a happy game with crafty slight,
Confirmes himselfe but fortunes Favorite;
But he that husbands well an ill-dealt game,
Deserves the credit of a Gamesters name;
Lord, if my Cards be bad, yet lend me skill
To play them wisely and make the best of ill.
To play them wisely and make the best of ill.
| Divine poems | |