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Into such furrowes? Why dost thou appeare
Cautious she kner never yet
What a wanton courtship meant;
She obeyes with speedy will
Her grave parents' wise commands. To th' hoiy fane. Bauish thy aged ruth,
And so innocent, that ill, That virgins may admire and court thy youth.
She nor acts, nor understands. And the approaching Sunne when she shall finde
Women's feet rupne still astray,
If once to ill they know the way.
Where her fame may anchor cast.
Vertue safely cannot sit, "Twas night: when Phæbe guided by thy rayes,
Where vice is enthron'd for wit. Chaste as my zeale, with inceuce of her praise,
She holds that daye's pleasure best, I humbly crept to my Castara's shrine.
Where sinne waits not on delight, But oh my fond mistake! for there did shine
Without maske, or ball, or feast, A noone of beauty, with such lustre crowu’d,
Sweetly spends a winter's night. As showd 'mong th' impious onely night is found.
O're that darknesse, whence is thrust,
Prayer and sleepe oft governs lust.
And each article of time,
All her vowes religious be,
OF THE CHASTITY OP HIS LOVE.
THE SECOND PART.
Vatumque lascivos triumphos
Why would you blash Castara, when the name
THE DESCRIPTION OF CASTARA.
Por shee's to her selfe untrue,
Who delights i'th' publicke view.
Folly boasts a glorious blood,
Is the sweetest part in the harmony of our being.
To the love of which, as the charmes of Nature inchant us, so the law of Grace by speciall priviledge invites us.
Without her, man if piety not restraine hiin; is the creator of sinne; or, if an innated cold render him not onely the businesse of the present age; the murderer of posterity. She is so religious that every day crownes her a martyr, and her zeale neither rebellious nor uncivill. Shee is so true a friend, her husband may to her communicate even his ambitions, and if successe crowne not expectation, remaine neverthelesse uncontemn'd. Shee is colleague with him in the empire of prosperity; and a safe retyring place when ailversity exiles him from the world. Shee is so chaste, she never understoorl the language lust speakes in; nor with a smile applaudes it, although there appeare wit in the metaphore. Shce is faire onely to winne on his affections, nor would she be mistris of the most eloqnent beauty; if there were danger, that might perswade the passionate auditory, to the least irregular thought. T'incounter his brave heat; how great a fame Shee is noble by a long descent, but her me- From their brests meeting, on the sudden came? mory is so evill a herald, shee never boasts The Stoike, who all easie passion flies, the story of her ancestors. Shee is so mo- Could he but heare the language of their eyes, derately rich, that the defect of portion doth As he recies would from his faith remove neither bring penury to his estate, nor the The tenets of bis sect, and practise love. superfluity licence her to riot. Shee is liberall, The barb'rous nations which supply the Earth and yet owes not ruine to vanity, but knowes With a promiscuous and ignoble birth, charily to be the soule of goodnesse, and ver- Wonid by this precedent correct their life, tue without reward often prone to bee her owne Each wisely choose, and chastely love a wife. destroyer. Shee is much at home, and when Princes' example is a law. Then we, shee visits 'tis for mutuall commerce, not for If loyall subjects, must true lovers be. intelligence. Shee can goe to court, and returne no passionate doater on bravery; and when shee hath seene the gay things muster up them
TO ZEPHIRUS. selves there, shee considers them as cobwebs the spider vanity hath spunne.
Shee is so
Wuose whispers, soft as those which lovers breath, generall in her acquaintance, that shee is fami- Castara and my selfe, I here bequeath, liar with all whom fame speakes vertuous; but To the calme wind. For Heaven such joyes afford thinkes there can bee no friendship but with To her and me, that there can be no third. one; and therefore bath neither shiee friend nor And you, kinde starres, be thriftier of your light: private servant. Shee so squares her passion to Her eyes supply your office with more bright her husband's fortunes, that in the countrey sbee And constant lustre. Angels guardians, like lives without a froward melancholly, in the The nimbler ship boyes, shall be joy'd to strike towne withont a fantastique pride. She is so Or hoish up saile : nor shall our vessell more temperate, she never read the moderne pollicie By card or compasse, but a heavenly love. of glorious surfeits: since she finds nature is ro
The couresie of this more prosperous gale epicure if art provoke her not by curiositie. Shall swell our canvas, and wee'le swiftly saile Shee is inquisitive onely of new wayes to please 'To some blest port, where ship hath never lane bim, and her wit sayles by no other conspasse
At anchor, whose chaste soile no foot prophane than that of his direction. Shee lookes upon
Hath ever trod; where Nature doth dispence him as conjurers upon the circle, beyond which Her infant wealth, a beautious innocence. there is nothing but Death and Hell; and in him Pompe, (even a barthen to it self) nor pride, shee beleeves Paradice circumscrib'd. His ver- (The magistrate of sinnes) did e're abide tues are her wonder and imitation; and his On that so sacred earth. Ambition pe're errors, her credulitje thinkes no more frailtie, Built, for the sport of ruine, fabrickes there. than makes bim descend to the title of nian. Thence age and death are exil'd, all offt nce In a word, shee so lives that shee may dye, And sear expellid, all boyse and faction thence and leave no cloude upon her memory, but
A silence there so melancholly sweet, have her character nobly mentioned: wbile the That pone but whispring tarlles ever meet : bad wife is Aattered into infamy, and buyes Thus Paradise did our first parents wooe pleasure at too deare a rate, if slice onely payes To harmelesse sweets, at first possest by two. for it repeutance.
And o're this second wee'le usurpe the throue;
For the rich vertue of this soyle, I feare,
Would be deprar'd, should but a third be there.
NOW POSSEST OF PER IN MARRIAGE.
TO C.ISTARA IN A TRANCE.
lle 6ll the canvas with m'expiring breath, View how his temples shine, on which he weares And with thee saile o're the vast maine of Death. A wreath of pearle, made of those precious teares
Some cherubia thus, as we passc, shall play: Thou wepst a virgin, when crosse winds did blow, “ Goc, happy twins of love! the courteous sea Our hopes disturbing in their quiet Aow.
Shall smooth her wrinkled brow: the winds shal But now Castara smile, no envious night
Or onely wbisper musicke to the deepe. (sleep, Dares enterpose it selfe, t'eclipse the light Every uogentle rocke shall melt away, Of our cleare joyes. For even the laws divine The Syrens sing to please, not to betray. Permit our mutuall love so to entwine,
Th' indulgent skie shall smile: each starry quire That kings, to vallance true content, shall say; Contend, which shall afford the brighter fire." " Would they were great as we, we blest as they." While Love, the pilot, steeres his course so even,
Ne're to cast anchor till we reach at Heaven.
TO DEATH, U PON THE MUTUALL LOVE OF THEIR MAJESTIES.
CASTARA BEING SICKL. Did you not see, Castara, when the king (bring Hence, prophane grim man! nor dare Met his lov'd queene; what sweetnesse she did To approach so deere my faire.
Marble vaults, and gloomy caves,
T'adore my genius. Of this wine should Prynne Church-yards, charnell-houses, graves,
Drioke but a plenteous glasse, he would beginne Where the living loath to be,
A health to Shakespeare's ghost. But you may Heaven hath design'd to thee.
bring But if needs 'mongst us thou'lt rage,
Some excuse forth, and answer me, the king Let thy fury feed on age.
To day will give you audience, or that on Wrinckled browes, and withered thighs,
Affaires of state you and some serious don May supply thy sacrifice.
Are to resolve ; or else perhaps you'le sin Yet, perhaps, as thou few'st by,
So farre, as to leave word y' are not within. A flamed dart, shot from her eye,
The least of these will make me onely thinke Sing'd thy wings with wanton fire,
Him subtle, who can in his closet drmke, Whence th' art forc't to hover nigh her.
Drunke even alone, and, thus made wise, create If Love so mistooke his aimne,
As dangerous plots as the Low Countrey state, Gently welcome in the flame :
Projecting for such baits, as shall draw ore They who loath'd thee, when they see
To Holiand all the herrings from our shore. Where thou harbor'st, will love thee.
But y'are too full of cavdour: and I know Onely I, such is my fate,
Will sooner stones at Salis'bury casements throw, Must thce as a rivall hate;
Or buy up for the silenc'd Levits all Court her gently, learn to prove
The rich impropriations, than let pall Nimble in the thefts of love.
So pure Canary, and breake such an oath: Gaze on th' errors of her haire :
Since charity is sinn'd against in both. Tonch her lip; but, oh! beware,
Come, therefore, blest even in the Lollards' zeale, Lest too ravenous of thy blisse,
Who canst, wiih conscience safe, 'fore ben and veale Thou shouldst murder with a kisse.
Say grace in Latine; while I faintly sing
Come, then, and bring with you, prepard for fight,
Inmixt Canary, Heaven send both prove right!
This I am sure: my sacke will disingage
All humane thoughis, inspire so high a rage, SLEEPB, my Castara, silence doth invite
That Hypocre ne shall henceforth poets lacke,
How good Castara is, box deare my friend.
Hee'le say they fow not on th' uprertaine lide May sleepe thy fever calmely chase away. Of greatnesse, they can no firme basis have
V pou the tripidation of a wave.
Nor lurke they in the caverns of the earth,
Whence all the wealthy minerals draw their birth,
To covetous man so fatall. Nor i'th' grace She is restor'd to life. V'nthrifty Death,
Love they to wanton of a brighter face, Thy mercy in permitting vitall breath
For th’are above time's battery, and the light Backe to Castara, hath enlarg'd us all,
Of beauty, age's cloud will soone be night. Whom griefe had martyrd in her funerall.
If among these content, he thus doth prove, While others in the ocean of their teares
Hath no abode; where dwells it but in love?
FORSAKE with me the Earth, my faire,
Till we have reacht th' adıniring skies; “ Her earth lyes here below; her soul's above,
Then lend sight to those heavenly eyes This wonder speakes her vertue, and my love." Which, blind themselves, make creatures see.
And taking view of all, when we
Shall finde a pure aud glorious spheare,
Wee'le fix like starres for ever there.
Nor will we still each other view,
Wee'le gaze on lesser starres than you;
WHERE TKVE HAPPIXESSE ABIDOS.
BEING TO TAKE A JOURNEY
Her haire abroad: as she did weare
Laid onely downe to slumber. Then forbeare The selfe-same beauty in a beare,
To let on her blest ashes fall a teare. As wben she a cold virgin stood,
But if th’art too much woman, softly weepe, And yet inflam'd love's Justfull blood.
Lest griefe disturbe the silence of her sleepe.
What's death more than departure? The dead go By the adult'rous lust of love ;
Like travelling exiles, compellid to know
Those regions they heard mention of: 'tis th' art
The beauteous tresses of the weeping morne,
Will rob me of: and thus my tombe shall be VPON THE DEATH OF A LADY,
As naked, as it had no obsequie. CASTARA, weepe not, tho' her tombe appeare
Know in these lines, sad musicke to thy eare, Sometime tny griefe to answer with a teare :
My sad Castara, you the sermon here 'The marble will but wanton with thy woe.
Which I preach o're my hearse: and dead, I tell Death is the sea, and we like rivers flow
My owne live's story, ring but my owne knell. To lose our selves in the insatiate maine,
But when I shall returne, know 'tis thy breath, Whence rivers may, she ne're returne againe.
In sighs divided, rescues me from death.
WEEPING. Which now adorne her hearse. The violet there
CASTARA! O you are too prodigall On her pale cheeke doth the sad livery weare, Which Heaven's compassion gave her: and since Make no returne: well plac'd calme peace might
O'th' treasure of your teares; which, thus let fall, she,
bring 'Cause cloath'd in purple, can no mourner be,
To the loud wars, each free a captiv'd king. As incense to the tombe she gives her breath,
So the unskilfull Indian those bright jems, And fading on her lady waits in death :
Which might adde majestie to diadems, Such office the Ægyptian handmaids did
'Mong the waves scatters, as if he would store Great Cleopatra, when she dying chid
The thanklesse sea, to make our empire poore: The asp's slow venom, trembling she should be
When Heaven darts thunder at the wombe of time, By Fate rob'd even of that blacke victory.
'Cause with each moment it brings forth a crime, The flowers instruct our sorrowes. Come, then, all
Or else despairing to root out abuse, Ye beauties, to true beautie's funerall,
Would ruine vitions Earth ; be then profuse. And with her to increase death's pompe, decay.
Light chas'd rude chaos from the world before, Since the supporting fabricke of your clay
Thy, teares, by hindring its returne, Korke more. Is falne, how can ye stand ? How can the night Show stars, when Fate puts out the daye's great light?
TO CASTARA, But 'mong tbe faire, if there live any yet,
PON A CIGI. She's but the fairer Digbie's counterfeit. Come you, who speake your titles. Reade in this I heard a sigh, and something in my eare Pale booke, how vaine a boast your greatnesse is ! Did whisper, what my soule before did feare, What's honour but a hatchment? What is here That it was breath'd by thee. May th’easie Spring, Of Percy left, and Stanly, names most deare
Enricht with odours, wanton on the wing To vertue ! but a crescent turn'd to th' wane,
Of th'easterne wind, may ne're his beauty fade, An eagle groaning o're an infant slaine ?
If he the treasure of this breath convey'd : Or what availes her, that she once was led, 'Twas thine by th' musicke which th' harmonious A glorious bride, to valiant Digbie's bed,
breath Since death hath them divorc'ú? If then alive Of swans is like, propheticke in their death: There are, who these sad obseqnies survive,
And th' odour, for as it the nard expires, And vaunt a proud descent, they onely be
Perfuming, phenix-like, his funerall fires.
The winds of Paradice send such a gale,
THE RIGHT HONOURABLE THE LADY F. What blessings ancient prophesie foretold,
You saw our loves, and prais'd the mutuall fame: So sweetly from the world, as if her clay
In wbich as incense to your sacred name
BETWEENE ARAPHILL AND CASTARA.
Burnes a religious zeale. May we be lost
WERE but that sigh a penitentiall breath
That thou art mine, it would blow with it death, But beauteous parts o'th' feinale body: she
T'inclose me in my marble, where I'de be Who boasts how many nimble Cupids skip
Slave to the tyrant wormes, to set thee free. Through her bright face, is but an eye or lip;
What should we envy? Though with larger saile The other, who in her soft brests can show
Some dance upon the ocean; yet more fraile Warme violets growing in a banke of snow,
And faithlesse is that wave, than where we glide,
Blest in the safety of a private tide.
We still have land in ken; and 'cause our boat The chrystall violl of her wealthy palme,
Dares not affront the weather, wee'le ne're Aoat The precious sweating of the easterne balme.
Farre from the shore. To daring them each cloud And all these, if you them together take,
Is big with thunder, every wind speaks loud. And joyne with art, will but one body make,
And rough wild rockes about the shore appeare,
Yet virtue will find roome to anchor there.
CASTARA, you too fondly court
The silken peace with which we cover'd are :
Up from its iron den rouse sleepy Warre.
Then, in the language of the drum,
All women shall in me be dumbe,
If I but with my Araphill be there.
If Pate, like an unfaithfull gale,
Which having vow'd to th' ship a faire event, Why should we build, Castara, in the aire
O'th' sudden rends her hopefull saile,
Blow ruine: will Castara then repent?
Love shall in that tempestuous showre [show:
Her brightest blossome like the black-thorne
Weake friendship prospers by the powre
l'le in her winter grow. As they, who saile like witches in the wind Of court applause. What can their powerfull spell
ARAPHILL. Over inchanted man more than compe!
If on my skin the noysome skar Hiin into various formes ? Nor serves their charme I should o'th' leprosie or canker weare; Themselves to good, but to worke others harme. Or if the sulph'rvus breath of warre (feare? Tyrant Opinion but depose; and we
Should blast my youth : should I not be thy Will absolute i'th' happiest empire be,
In Mesh mag sicknesse horror move,
But heavenly zeale will be by it refin'd;
For then wee'd like two angels love,
Without a sense; embrace each other's mind.
ARAPHILL. CASTARA, see that dust, the sportive wind
Were it not impious to repine, So wantons with. 'Tis happ'ly all you'le finde 'Gainst rigid Fate I should direct my breath: Left of some beauty: and how still it Hies, i That two must be, whom Heaven did joyne To trouble, as it did in life, our eyes.
In such a happy one, disjoin’d by death. O empty boast of Mesh! though our heires gila
CASTARA. The farre frutch Phrigian marble, which shall build
That's no divource. Then shall we see A burthen to our ashes, yet will death
The rites in life, were types o'th' marriage state, Betray them to the sport of every breath.
Our souls on Earth contracted be: Dost thou, poore relique of our frailty, still
But they in Heaven their nuplials consumate. Swell up with glory? Or is it thy skill To mocke weake man, whom every wind of praise Into the aire doth 'bore his center raise?
TO THE RIGHT HONOURALE LORD M. If so, mocke on; and tell him that his lust To beauti's madnesse: for it courts but dust.
MY LORD, My thoughts are not so rugged, nor doth carth so farre predominate in me, that mirth
V PON BEAUTIE.