The History of Polindor and Flostella With Other Poems. By I. H. [i.e. John Harington] The third Edition, Revised and much Enlarged |
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FLOSTELLAS Hand and Glove. |
 | The History of Polindor and Flostella |  |
FLOSTELLAS Hand and Glove.
Fair FLOSTEL, my ambitious Muse,Through its aspiring zeal wu'd choose
Rather to chant thy Hand then Glove,
Court that Diviner form, my Love;
T'whom Snow, with th' Alablaster mine,
Great stile of Whiteness do resigne:
Where azure streams in purling measure
Make Cupids Isles, and place of pleasure:
But this eclipses vails their light,
And pleads commission for't; worse spight.
Whilst, cas'd up, beauteous those appear
Like sacred Twin-like Relicks there,
Worth 'bove all Romes; like cloyster'd Nuns,
Or silver, Orbe-involved Moons.
Nor nak'd to each unworthy eye,
Or the Sun's bolder kisses lye
(Sight fit'st for Kings) but then devest,
Break forth like Morns, their dusky East,
When Silk and Gold ask touch more fine;
Some Needle-miracle, designe.
Where shown to th' eye small new Creation;
Birds, Beasts so neer inanimation,
So true, that Natures self does start;
Half mothering that meer Child of Art:
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For her own work th' Hills, Plants, and Lakes.
Sweet'st Recluse-payr! you meanly choyce
Beauties triumph it now, rejoyce;
Let coorser Hands now boldly shew.
And seek t'enamour with worse Snow.
Your Gloves kind pardon, if I seem
Transported here with what's their Gem,
Chief Riches, Glory; wherefore spight
Should not ore-long debar my Sight:
Since I love These too, even in this
Fine, pritty'st winning Beauty is;
Both as it self, and as 'tis Thine:
So dainty-shap'd, Symmetrick fine,
Pure-white withall, that it might stand
A rude-drawn Picture to that Hand:
From whence (methinks) breath highest sweets,
Whose sublimation Juno fits.
This Pattern seem's for best of Gloves
(As that for Hands) like Queen of Love's.
O Cupid, would'st ordain, that I,
Under that form might hug so nye
That loved Hand (stupendious feat!)
But ah, I fear my Youthfull Heat,
Sighes, soft-breath'd Whispers, joyfull Dance
Oth' Panting-heart, then colder Trance
With fervent ravenous Kisses, soon
Would blab the Cozenage; all undone;
When I'm cashier'd eternally:
Whereas, that Favourit-Glove layd by,
Recloathes that Beauty; exalted is
To it's late Paradisian Bliss.
| The History of Polindor and Flostella | |