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 |  |
The doubtful Riddle being thus propounded,
They muse; the more they mus'd, the more cōfounded:
One rounds his whispring neighbour in the eare,
Whose lab'ring lips deny him leave to heare:
Another, trusting rather to his owne
Conceit, sits musing, by himselfe, alone:
Here, two are closely whispring, till a third
Comes in, nor to the purpose speakes a word:
There, sits two more, and they cannot agree
How rich the clothes, how fine the Sheets must be
Yonder stands one that, musing, smiles; no doubt,
But he is neere it, if not found it out;
To whom another rudely rushes in,
And puts him quite beside his thought agin:
Here, three are Whispring, and a fourths intrusion
Spoiles all, and puts them all into confusion:
There sits another in a Chaire, so deepe
In thought, that he is nodding fast asleepe:
The more their busie fancie doe endever,
The more they erre; Now, farther off, than ever:
Thus when their wits, spur'd on with sharpe desire,
Had lost their breath, and now began to tire,
They ceas'd to tempt conceit beyond her strength;
And, weary of their thoughts, their thoughts at length
Present a new exploit: Craft must supply
Defects of wit; Their hopes must now rely
Vpon the frailty of the tender Bride;
She must be mov'd; Perswasions may attaine;
If not, then rougher language must constraine:
She must diclose the Riddle, and discover
The bosome secrets of her faithfull Lover.
They muse; the more they mus'd, the more cōfounded:
One rounds his whispring neighbour in the eare,
Whose lab'ring lips deny him leave to heare:
Another, trusting rather to his owne
Conceit, sits musing, by himselfe, alone:
Here, two are closely whispring, till a third
Comes in, nor to the purpose speakes a word:
There, sits two more, and they cannot agree
How rich the clothes, how fine the Sheets must be
Yonder stands one that, musing, smiles; no doubt,
But he is neere it, if not found it out;
To whom another rudely rushes in,
And puts him quite beside his thought agin:
311
Spoiles all, and puts them all into confusion:
There sits another in a Chaire, so deepe
In thought, that he is nodding fast asleepe:
The more their busie fancie doe endever,
The more they erre; Now, farther off, than ever:
Thus when their wits, spur'd on with sharpe desire,
Had lost their breath, and now began to tire,
They ceas'd to tempt conceit beyond her strength;
And, weary of their thoughts, their thoughts at length
Present a new exploit: Craft must supply
Defects of wit; Their hopes must now rely
Vpon the frailty of the tender Bride;
She must be mov'd; Perswasions may attaine;
If not, then rougher language must constraine:
She must diclose the Riddle, and discover
The bosome secrets of her faithfull Lover.
| Divine poems | |