Seven Minor Epics of the English Renaissance (1596-1624) Part 18

Nature deuis'd her owne despaire in thee, Thine eye not to be match'd, but by the other, Doth beare the influence of my destiny.

And where they stray, my soule must wander thither Beauty of beauty, mother of Loues mother.

All parts he praises, coming to her lip, Currall beneath the waues, vermilion dye, And being so neere, he wold not ouerslip.

55

Now tyres the famish'd Eagle on his pray, Incorporating his rude lips in hers, Sucking her balmey breath soft as he may: Which did more vigor, through his brest disperse, Such kisses louers vse at first conuerse.

All parts were to that center drawne I wis, Close as the dew-wormes at the breake of day, That his soule shew'd, as t'were a melting kisse.

56

Till breathles now, he breath'd into her loue, Who scorn'd to take possession by degrees, No law with her strange pa.s.sion, will he proue, But hauing interest, scorn'd one inch to leese, _Cupid_, sheele set thee free withouten fees.

But though his wings she well nie set on fire, And burn'd the shaft, that first her brest did moue, Yet _Cupid_ would be Lord of her desire.

57

Tis sayd, _Aurora_ blushes euery morne, For feare that _t.i.tan_ should her fault espy, And blushes so did _Hirens_ cheekes adorne, Fearing least _Mahomet_ perceiu'd her eye.

Louers are blind, and what could he espy.

No, twas the hidden vertue of that kisse, That her chast lips were nere vs'd to beforne, That did vnframe her, and confirme her his.

58

Louers beleeue, lips are inchanted baites, After fifteene, who kisses a faire maide, Had need to haue friends trusty of the fates, For by my muse (I sweare) I am a afraid, Hee's Iourney-man already in Loues trade.

A kiffe is porter to the caue of loue, Well see, and you may enter all the gates: "Women were made to take what they reproue.

59

A kisse is the first Tutor and instinct, The guider to the Paphian shrine and bowers.

They who before ne're entred loues precinct, Kissing shall finde it, and his sundry powers.

O how it moues this continent of aires, And makes our pulse more strong & hye to beat, Making vs know when lips are sweetly linck't, That to those Kickshawes 'longs more dainty meate.

60

And so indeed bewitched _Hiren_ knowes, The pressure of his lips was not in vaine, Seldome proue women friends vnto their foes, But when with ouer kindnesse they are tane, So weake professors do swalow their owne bane: Shew them the axe they'l suffer martyrdome, But if promotion to them you propose, And flattery, then to the lure they come.

61

Thus _Mahomet_ blinds her with _Cupids_ vaile, And this new conuert.i.te building on hope, Loue makes folks hardy, alas the flesh is fraile, Dispences now a little with the Pope: And fr[=o] restrictions giues her heart more scope.

O Liberty, Author of heresie.

Why with such violent wing dost thou a.s.saile, To hurry vertue to impiety.

62

No pardon will she now implore of _Rome_, Her selfe she pardons twenty times an houre, Nor yet an heretike her selfe doth doome, Since she hath _Mahomet_ within her power.

O loue too sweet, in the digestion sower!

Yet was he made, as nature had agreed, To match them both together from her wombe, And be a ioyfull grandam in their seed.

63

A face Nature intended for a maister peece, And louely as the maide (though a blacke pearle) Painters and women say, an _Eben_ fleece, Doth well beseeme the shoulders of an Earle: Blacke snares they were, that did entrap this girle Each haire like to a subtile serpent taught her, Of the forbidden fruit to taste a peece, Whil'st _Eue_ is stain'd againe here in her daughter.

64

His eyes were stuck like Comets in his head, As if they came to treate of nouelties, And bring the world and beautie into dread: That he must conquer chastest chast.i.ties.

O who such tempting graces could despise, All voluntarie sinnes soules may refraine, But Natures selfe that of the flesh is bred, Such power she hath, that vice she will retaine.

65

Let me, faire Greeke, a little plead for thee, Like a vaine Orator, more for applause, And swolne commends, of those are standers by, Then profits sake, or goodnesse of the cause.

If men that vpon holy vowes do pawse, Haue broke, alas, what shall I say of these, The last thing thought on by the Deitie, Natures step-children, rather her disease.

66

Maide, why commit you wilfull periurie?

To you I speake that vowe a single life, I must confesse y'are mistresse of beauty: Which beautie with your oaths is still at strife.

Then know of me, thou, widow, maide or wife, She that is faire and vowes still chast to stand, Shall find an opposite to constancie, Fooles Oracles last not, are writ in sand.

_The end of the first Tome._

TO THE PERFECTION OF Perfection, and wisedome of Womanhood, the intelligent, and worthily admired, Elizabeth Countesse of Darby, wife to the thrice-n.o.ble William Earle _of Darby_.

_VVhen as the skilfull Statuaries make, The image of some great & worthy one, They still, as they intend his forme to take, Forecast the Basis he shall rest vpon, Whose firme infixe thunders nor winds can shake, Nor Time, that Nature deeds to liue alone.

So (worthiest Lady) may I proudly vaunt, (Being neuer guilty of that crime before) That to this Laye, which I so rudely chaunt, Your diuine selfe, which_ Dian _doth adore, As her maids her, I haue select to daunt Enuy: as violent as these nam'd before_.

_Uertue and beauty both with you enioy,_ Gorgon _and_ Hydra (_all but death_) _destroy._

Your honors from youth oblig'd,

Wil. Barksted.

The second Tome.