 | Poems (1872) |  |
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XXIII. LOVE'S POWER.
Shall Love, that gave Latona's heire the foile,(Proud of his archerie and Pethon's spoile,)
And so enthral'd him to a nimph's disdaine
As, when his hopes were dead, hee, full of paine,
Made him above all trees the lawrell grace,
An embleme of Loue's glory, his disgrace;
Shall he, I say, be termed a foot-boy now
Which made all powers in Heauen and Earth to bowe?
Or is't a fancy which themselves doe frame,
And therefore dare baptize by any name?
A flaming straw! which one sparke kindles bright,
And first hard breath out of itselfe doth fright;
Whose father was a smile, and death a frowne,
Soon proud of little and for lesse cast downe?
'Tis so! and this a lackie terme you may,
For it runs oft, and makes but shortest stay.
But thou, O Love! free from Time's eating rust,
That sett'st a limite unto boundles lust,
Making desire grow infinitely stronge,
And yett to one chast subiect still belong;
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Quick'ning our witts to striue that they may please;
Fixing the wand'ring thoughts of straying youth,
The firmest bond of Faith, the knott of Truth:
Thou that did'st never lodge in worthles hart,
Thou art a master, whersoe're thou art.
Thou mak'st food loathsome, sleep to be unrest,
Lost labor easeful, scornefull lookes a feast;
And when thou wilt, thy ioyes as farr excell
All elce as, when thou punish'st, thy Hell.
Oh make that rebell feele thy matchles power,
Thou that mad'st Jove a bull, a swan, a showre.
Give him a love as tirannous as faire,
That his desire goe yoakèd with despaire;
Live in her eyes, but in her frozen heart
Lett no thaw come that may have sence of smart.
Lett her a constant silence never breake,
Till he doe wish repulse to heare her speake;
And last, such sence of error lett him haue
As he may never dare for mercy crave.
Then none will more capittulate with thee,
But of their harts will yield the empire free.
| Poems (1872) | |