 | Poems (1983) |  |
196
POEMS FROM THE NEWBERRY MANUSCRIPT The Secound Part of the Countesse of Montgomery's Urania
[Why doe you thus torment my poorest hart?]
Why doe you thus torment my poorest hart?Why doe you cleerest eyes obscure all day,
From mee loves poorest vassall? Can my smart
Ad triumph to your Crowne? Make noe delay
Butt quickly O conclude, and doe nott stay,
Rebellions must bee crusht by present art
Yett I a subject ame without dismaye,
For loyalty I justly claime great part,
Butt if thos cruell eyes will nott impart
A favourable sensure, Oh poore claye
How can an new mould bee to ease my smart?
Noe an new death must all thes ills repay,
Then wellcom death since by thos eyes I dy,
Love looke, are any cleerer in your skye?
[Most deere, more hapy soverainsing harts]
Most deere, more hapy soverainsing harts,
Free from flattering;
Murdering peeces prove your sweet eye darts
Joys from desire scattering,
Free from flattering;
Murdering peeces prove your sweet eye darts
Joys from desire scattering,
Why alas were you framd if alone to kill?
You knowe murdering
A crime by all condemn'd, is this your skill,
Nor caus'd nor furdering?
You knowe murdering
A crime by all condemn'd, is this your skill,
Nor caus'd nor furdering?
Yett you alas may certainly controle
Thos humours flowing,
Butt if itt bee you love to fleet, and role
Poor slaves for honors showing,
Thos humours flowing,
Butt if itt bee you love to fleet, and role
Poor slaves for honors showing,
197
Certainly you will end att last as wee,
And pitty wanting cry alas wo's mee.
And pitty wanting cry alas wo's mee.
[Honor now injoye the day]
Honor now injoye the day
Love is falen into desmay,
Nay is conquer'd, yeeld all right
To the power of his might
Honor, honor, now is all:
Captive Cupid sees his fall;
Love is falen into desmay,
Nay is conquer'd, yeeld all right
To the power of his might
Honor, honor, now is all:
Captive Cupid sees his fall;
Never lett a slight love come,
In honors sight for a doombe
Or thinke light affections thrall
Dare apeere, noe now 't'is gall;
Honor Monarck is of Love,
Under him affections move,
In honors sight for a doombe
Or thinke light affections thrall
Dare apeere, noe now 't'is gall;
Honor Monarck is of Love,
Under him affections move,
This is Honors purest throne,
Heere hee brightly shines alone,
Poore love like meane sphears appeere,
In him's onely brightnes cleere,
Had I knowne him thus beefore,
Myne armes, I had layd att his dore,
Heere hee brightly shines alone,
Poore love like meane sphears appeere,
In him's onely brightnes cleere,
Had I knowne him thus beefore,
Myne armes, I had layd att his dore,
Now I yeeld them to his worthe
This doth knowledg true bring forthe
Arrowes, bowe, darts, and wings
Which death brought to mortallings:
All I offer up to you
Deere Honor, as the Monarck true.
This doth knowledg true bring forthe
Arrowes, bowe, darts, and wings
Which death brought to mortallings:
All I offer up to you
Deere Honor, as the Monarck true.
[This is Honor's holly day]
[1]
This is Honor's holly dayNow sheapheard swaines, neatheards play
Cupid wills itt soe:
Kings, and princes come alonge
You shall safely pass from wronge
Desire was your foe,
198
2
Fond desire is now layd wasteTruth of love in his stead plaste
Honor guides you now,
'T'is true Cupid was desire,
Fondly using wanton fire
Therfor thus doth bowe,
3
Love's nott Love, that vainely flingsLike a harmfull waspe that stings
Therin I did miss
Desire should nott bee stil'd love
Butt with honors wings to move
Bright love tells us this,
4
Honor like the brightest morneShines while clowded love is worne
And consum'd to dust,
Like faire flowrs long beeing pulld
Dy, and wither if nott culld
Slightest like the wurst,
Butt lett harts, and voices singe
Honor's Cupids just borne kinge.
[Come lusty gamesters of the sea]
Come lusty gamesters of the sea
Billowes, waves, and winds,
Like to most lovers make your plea
Say love all combinds;
Lett nott Dian rule your sprites,
Her pale face shuns all delights,
Billowes, waves, and winds,
Like to most lovers make your plea
Say love all combinds;
Lett nott Dian rule your sprites,
Her pale face shuns all delights,
Venus was borne, of the sea foame
Queene of love is she
Like her sweet pleasant phantisies roame,
This Varietie;
Juno yett a firme wife is,
Soe may I bee in my blis,
Queene of love is she
Like her sweet pleasant phantisies roame,
This Varietie;
Juno yett a firme wife is,
Soe may I bee in my blis,
199
Pallas is yett a fierce, sterne lass,
Wisdome doth profess,
Ceares a hous-wife I soone pass,
Lovers I express;
Venus, my deere sea borne Queene,
Gives mee pleasures still unseene,
Wisdome doth profess,
Ceares a hous-wife I soone pass,
Lovers I express;
Venus, my deere sea borne Queene,
Gives mee pleasures still unseene,
And you faire starry sky, beeholde
Venus mee commaunds,
That by noe meanes love should grow colde
Butt blowe the fire brands;
Soll's best heat must fill our vaines,
Thes are true loves highest straines.
Venus mee commaunds,
That by noe meanes love should grow colde
Butt blowe the fire brands;
Soll's best heat must fill our vaines,
Thes are true loves highest straines.
[This night the Moone eclipsed was]
This night the Moone eclipsed was
Alas,
Butt quickly she did brightlier shine
Devine,
Prognosticating by sweet raine
That all things showld bee cleere againe,
Alas,
Butt quickly she did brightlier shine
Devine,
Prognosticating by sweet raine
That all things showld bee cleere againe,
Sweet raine foretells us good to growe,
And flowe,
Coole drops sweet moisture, flowers bring
To spring,
Which fruict brings forthe, and soe shall wee
Live hopefully all good to see,
And flowe,
Coole drops sweet moisture, flowers bring
To spring,
Which fruict brings forthe, and soe shall wee
Live hopefully all good to see,
Butt in this time the sun is loste
And crost,
Thought in Antipides nott quite beereft
Nor left,
Butt in just course shall come againe,
And with pure light both shine, and raigne.
And crost,
Thought in Antipides nott quite beereft
Nor left,
Butt in just course shall come againe,
And with pure light both shine, and raigne.
200
[Stay holy fires]
Stay holy fires
Of my desires
Flame nott soe fast;
My loves butt young
From bud new sprunge
Scarce knowes loves taste,
Of my desires
Flame nott soe fast;
My loves butt young
From bud new sprunge
Scarce knowes loves taste,
Flames showld nott rise
Till sacrifies
Were reddy made;
A love scarce greene
Was never seene
In withring shade,
Till sacrifies
Were reddy made;
A love scarce greene
Was never seene
In withring shade,
Stray till 't'is blowne
If then orethrowne
With curst denyes;
Poore hart swell'out
Send flames about
With murdering eyes,
If then orethrowne
With curst denyes;
Poore hart swell'out
Send flames about
With murdering eyes,
Summon all men
To Court agen
Wher loves inthround,
If they persist
And smiles resist,
While chast love is scornd,
To Court agen
Wher loves inthround,
If they persist
And smiles resist,
While chast love is scornd,
Then spoile their harts
With fierce lovs darts,
And with that store
Of harts which shakes
Make martir stakes
Still framing more,
With fierce lovs darts,
And with that store
Of harts which shakes
Make martir stakes
Still framing more,
Then with thos eyes
Wher all truth lies
A blaze of fire frame,
As Heccatombbe
For victors doombe
To true loves name,
Wher all truth lies
A blaze of fire frame,
As Heccatombbe
For victors doombe
To true loves name,
Soe holy fires
Of my desirs
May rise, and flame
Pheanix for truth
Consum'de in youth
Burnt to loves fame.
Of my desirs
May rise, and flame
Pheanix for truth
201
Burnt to loves fame.
[Were ever eyes of such devinitie]
[1]
Were ever eyes of such devinitieDevine? Noe they are of the Gods
And soe have ods,
Of the Gods? Noe, more of Eternitie;
They are blew, sure they are then heavens sky
Firmly
Kings they rule and commaund,
Motives of government doe ly
To their imply
Readely
And soe att mercy stand,
2
Bee they nott two suns, most shininglyBeaming? Noe they are meators rare
Without compare,
Meators noe? Thunderbolts killingly
Were they of Gods, they would deale beningly
Gently
Two sunns were never seene
Att once, devinitie
Doth that deny
Really
Butt lightnings oft have binn,
3
Lightnings O noe, they are induring,And bright, are they nott Cupids eyes
Falen from the skies
While hee is doubly blinded in aluring?
Shall I yett name them must, O then say
202
They are of Gods, of eyes,
Of the heavens, of ayre most bright,
Of purest light,
Fierce sight,
Yett sweetest under skies.
[Fierce love, alas yett lett mee rest]
[1]
Fierce love, alas yett lett mee rest,Beeholde my boyling brest:
Lett mee butt slumber, if nott sleepe
Continually to weepe
Is too great a smart
To a hart
Transform'd like Niobé to watry powers
Telling howers
In drops of my misfortunes arte;
2
Cruell, alas, why doe thos eyesRule of the heavenly skies
Joye in my ruin? My poore streames
Flumes can nott coole your beames
For loves sacred fire
Must aspire
Transcendant to the highest powers
Telling howers
In flames of my consuming fire,
3
The Firmament may mee imbraceTher wanderers may finde place
Transform'd by love into a space
Borowing of lovers trace
Wher continuall faire
Will tell ayre
203
Bred in ire
May yett to evenings faire aspire,
4
Butt dull earth I see you contendNott willing I assend,
Give mee then fruicts of plenty heere
True increase of beauties cheere,
Why doe you create
Such a bate
To singe all harts, by such a fire
And intire
Consuming us to our last fate?
[Beehold this sacred fire]
[1]
Beehold this sacred fireIn waters curstest ire
Remaines in mee
Desdaining change to see
As hee makes waters touch
His prowd inclosing my desire
And in his bosome keeps my fire
While I lament too much,
2
This lampe inflamed with loveConsumes nott yett doth move
And spends the oyle
Soe doe I waste in toile
To clime to honors high
Which with water, and the time
Doth the flame make higher clime
And soe I may rise nigh;
3
Butt while I heere admireWater, and flames conspire
Nott yeeld to mee
204
Noe ease unto my burning smart
Butt extinguish fyry rays
The aulter for my loving bays
To act his lastest part;
4
Time butt an attome isLimited by powers blis
Of heavenly might
Made by eternall right
For heaven erelasting beeing
Makes eternitie the name,
And mee the attome of my flame,
Consumed, and burnt by seeing.
[Love lett mee live, ore lett mee dye]
Love lett mee live, ore lett mee dye,
Use mee nott wurse then poorest fly
Who finds some comfort, while alone
I live, and waste in moane;
Use mee nott wurse then poorest fly
Who finds some comfort, while alone
I live, and waste in moane;
I have noe shrouding place from woe,
The billowes beare my overthrowe,
And sands they cover in disgrace
Of my loves truest face.
The billowes beare my overthrowe,
And sands they cover in disgrace
Of my loves truest face.
Wretch sayth the sea heer stay, and drowne:
Can you nott feare her curstest frowne?
Alas she chides us that you stay,
After her just denay,
Can you nott feare her curstest frowne?
Alas she chides us that you stay,
After her just denay,
She is the Goddesse sole of Love;
How dare you mortall thus to move?
Bow hart, and soule to her least frowne
And sensur'd thus ly downe.
How dare you mortall thus to move?
Bow hart, and soule to her least frowne
And sensur'd thus ly downe.
205
[Love butt a phantesie light, and vaine]
[1]
Love butt a phantesie light, and vaineFluttering butt in poorest braine,
Birds in chimnies make a thunder
Putting silly soules in wounder
Soe doth this love, this all commaunder
To a weake poore understander;
2
Slight him, and hee'le your servant bee,Adore him, you his slave must bee,
Scorne him, O how hee will pray you,
Please him, and hee'lle sure beetray you,
Lett nott his faulshood bee esteemed
Least your self bee disesteemed.
3
Crush nott your witts to place him high,A thought thing, never seene by eye,
Implore nott heaven, nor deities
They know too well his forgeries
Nor saints by imprications move
'T'is butt the Idolatry of love.
[Was I to blame to trust]
[1]
Was I to blame to trustThy love like teares when t'is most just
To judg of others by our owne? While mine
From heads of love and faith did flow
Yett fruictles ran, could I suspect that thine
When in my hart each teare did write a line
Showld have noe spring butt outward showe?
2
My love I never wentIn maske, which made mee confident
206
Nott love put on, butt taken in,
Nor like a scarfe to bee putt off which lies,
Att choise to weare ore leave, butt when thine eyes
Did weepe thy hart had bled within,
3
Butt as the guilfull raineThe sky that weeps itt doth nott paine
Butt weares the place wherein the drops doe fall
Soe when thy clowdy lids impart
Thos showers of subtill teares; which seeme to call
Compassion when you doe nott grieve att all,
You weepe them, butt they frett my hart,
4
Deere eyes I wrong'd nott youTo thinke you were as faire, soe true;
Why wowld you then yourselves in griefe attire
With pitty to inlarge my smart
When beauty had enough inflam'd desire
And when you were even cumber'd with my fire?
Why would you blowe the coales with art?
5
For was less fault to leaveThen having left mee to deceave
For well you might have my unworthe refused,
Nor cowld I have of wronge complaind
Butt since your scorne, you with deceipt confusd
My undesert you have with teares excus'd
And with the guilt your self have stained.
[Lying upon the beach]
[1]
Lying upon the beach,Beelow mee on the sands,
I saw within small reach
A lady ly in bands,
With armes across, and hands
Infolded in thos twines,
207
And for loves triumph stands,
2
Alas, cride she, can loveBeequeath mee noe small space
Wher I may live, and love
Butt run in ruins race?
Nor yett to gaine deaths trace,
You locks of his owne haire,
Wittnes I still you beare
In my harts deerest place,
3
Butt O faulse is his hart,Yett faithfull is his haire,
Dead is his love, a pretty art
If wee thes two compare.
Haire once cutt off hath share
With death, loves lyfe beeing fled,
To shaddow haire is fled,
Soe are my joys to care.
4
Unconstant man, yett deereBeehold thy haire outlive
Thy faith, thy worthe, and cleere
As thine eyes, which did drive
Wrack to my hart, take back
Thes reliques, lay the rack
On shriveld harts, and cry
Haire outlives Constancy.
208
[Come deere, lett's waulke into this spring]
[1]
Come deere, lett's waulke into this springWher wee may heere the sweet birds sing
And lett us leave this darcksum place
Wher Cupid never yett had grace,
For loves bright light
Must us delight
And Cupids fire
Must still respire,
And brightest showe in darckest night.
2
'T'is nott the shades can harbour love;Hee lives in highest spheares above,
And from his beames gives worlds ther light,
Hee raigning Crownd with sweets delight,
In darknes spite
Hee rules in light,
For Cupids fire
Must still respire
And brightest show in dullest night,
3
Love doth nott dwell in colde fainte shade,Nor lurcks wher warme love growes to vade,
Hee's perfect heat, and strives to move
Wher equall flames with him showes love.
In Coldes despite
Hee rules in might
For Cupids fire
Must still aspire
And pow'rfulst show in darckest night.
209
[Most hapy memory bee ever blest]
Most hapy memory bee ever blest
Which thus brings into my most weary minde
Joys past though others would them tortures finde,
Butt I delighted was in them, though rest
Which thus brings into my most weary minde
Joys past though others would them tortures finde,
Butt I delighted was in them, though rest
I never felt, soe was my soule distrest,
Yett lov'd the fetters did mee slavelike binde,
O love, what is thy force? Some say thou'rt blind,
Noe thou canst see best, and can give ease best,
Yett lov'd the fetters did mee slavelike binde,
O love, what is thy force? Some say thou'rt blind,
Noe thou canst see best, and can give ease best,
Then grant my memery may with mee live,
And darken nott my first, and deerest choise,
From which though swervd, I in itt still rejoyse,
Nor lett the fates from mee those phantsies drive,
And darken nott my first, and deerest choise,
From which though swervd, I in itt still rejoyse,
Nor lett the fates from mee those phantsies drive,
For though a secound love doth mee infolde,
Non must the former from my soule unfolde.
Non must the former from my soule unfolde.
[Returne my thoughts, why fly you soe?]
Returne my thoughts, why fly you soe?
Sorrows may my good outgoe,
Phantsie's butt phantasticks skill
The soule alone hath onely will,
Sorrows may my good outgoe,
Phantsie's butt phantasticks skill
The soule alone hath onely will,
Heathen people had their Gods
Whom they implor'd to have the odds
Of mortalls all, butt 't'would nott bee
For Love was high'st inthron'd to see,
Whom they implor'd to have the odds
Of mortalls all, butt 't'would nott bee
For Love was high'st inthron'd to see,
Soe love of all things hath most sight,
And noe thing more then love is light,
Then Cupid take thy honor right:
Thou'rt neither God, nor Earthly sprite.
And noe thing more then love is light,
Then Cupid take thy honor right:
Thou'rt neither God, nor Earthly sprite.
| Poems (1983) | |