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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 | The History of Polindor and Flostella |  |
Close by these Palms and plumed Myrtle-covers
Their Journey prov'd some while, chief walks delight;
When (lo) the thundring Noyse did both affright
Of Horses hoofs, with six tall armed Men
(Down went their Veyles in hast) heard balling then
Loud throats, to boot: Those, those are they, they sayd,
Take, nimbly seize'em. O, we'r both betrayd
(Cry'd th' Aspine-trembling Lady) lost, undone:
Sweet'st-utter'd words, though breath'd with mournfull tone,
Nigh swoonding. He's become Tempestuous too,
Soul-tortur'd, agoniz'd, her single Wo
Though deeply'st Stab'd enrag'd his manly Brest
(Through self-enlightning Guilt both charg'd, confest
Prime-dismall Author on't) endur'd such Passion
As felt the Load of all Mankinds vexation,
Th' whole Globe of grief: wants usefull Armes, beside:
Wherewith he might or there have bravely Dy'd,
Or cut her Passage through them; no escape
(Least glimps) unless by wily force and Rape
He could disarm some one, so gain'd a Sword:
Though all the rest with murthering Pistolls stor'd:
Yet seem'd this dangerous Project fixt upon,
Freedome, or Death; these words sigh'd forth alone,
Dear, hope still. Gallop'd up the Rout, they cry'd,
Yeild, or th' art dead; when from's beloved side
She's rudely seiz'd, Five tumbling strait on him
Like pond'rous falling Tow'rs, as thus would seem
By th' Press to execute, ere sentenc'd so:
Their Leaders words, Here's that Male She, the Shrow,
Fine femall Youth; All, Bind him, bind him (crying)
Quick, hast; worst doom it was, seem'd next to Dying:
Since being once Bound, his main Plot's frivolous.
Sore galled Heart, sad-glancing Eyes, since thus
Snatch'd from his Chief (how dearly'st-earned) Treasure,
Neer-grasp'd Delights; one Moments plundring seizure
Rob'd all, like Gem stor'd Indian Vessell, split
Ith' blisfull Harbours mouth; or, neerer yet,
Stronger portrait, like one from Heaven hurl'd
To th' Hells Abiss. Unvayled both to th' world,
Oth' cooz'ning Fates! This is not He (they cry'd)
Nor is this She; as Bugbears, charms espy'd:
Glad sounds to th' drooping Pris'ners, joyntly thus
Wonder-reviv'd; though (Mayd-like timorous)
Shrewd Qualm stil seiz'd the dear Flostella's brest,
Whilst those continu'd on their rambling Quest.
Their Journey prov'd some while, chief walks delight;
When (lo) the thundring Noyse did both affright
Of Horses hoofs, with six tall armed Men
(Down went their Veyles in hast) heard balling then
Loud throats, to boot: Those, those are they, they sayd,
Take, nimbly seize'em. O, we'r both betrayd
(Cry'd th' Aspine-trembling Lady) lost, undone:
Sweet'st-utter'd words, though breath'd with mournfull tone,
Nigh swoonding. He's become Tempestuous too,
Soul-tortur'd, agoniz'd, her single Wo
Though deeply'st Stab'd enrag'd his manly Brest
(Through self-enlightning Guilt both charg'd, confest
Prime-dismall Author on't) endur'd such Passion
As felt the Load of all Mankinds vexation,
77
Wherewith he might or there have bravely Dy'd,
Or cut her Passage through them; no escape
(Least glimps) unless by wily force and Rape
He could disarm some one, so gain'd a Sword:
Though all the rest with murthering Pistolls stor'd:
Yet seem'd this dangerous Project fixt upon,
Freedome, or Death; these words sigh'd forth alone,
Dear, hope still. Gallop'd up the Rout, they cry'd,
Yeild, or th' art dead; when from's beloved side
She's rudely seiz'd, Five tumbling strait on him
Like pond'rous falling Tow'rs, as thus would seem
By th' Press to execute, ere sentenc'd so:
Their Leaders words, Here's that Male She, the Shrow,
Fine femall Youth; All, Bind him, bind him (crying)
Quick, hast; worst doom it was, seem'd next to Dying:
Since being once Bound, his main Plot's frivolous.
Sore galled Heart, sad-glancing Eyes, since thus
Snatch'd from his Chief (how dearly'st-earned) Treasure,
Neer-grasp'd Delights; one Moments plundring seizure
Rob'd all, like Gem stor'd Indian Vessell, split
Ith' blisfull Harbours mouth; or, neerer yet,
Stronger portrait, like one from Heaven hurl'd
To th' Hells Abiss. Unvayled both to th' world,
Oth' cooz'ning Fates! This is not He (they cry'd)
Nor is this She; as Bugbears, charms espy'd:
Glad sounds to th' drooping Pris'ners, joyntly thus
Wonder-reviv'd; though (Mayd-like timorous)
Shrewd Qualm stil seiz'd the dear Flostella's brest,
Whilst those continu'd on their rambling Quest.
| The History of Polindor and Flostella | |