Lucasta [18]
of wit, When ev'ry thing is free as well as fit: For metaphors packt up and crowded close Swath minds sweetnes, and display the throws, And, like those chickens hatcht in furnaces, Produce or one limbe more, or one limbe lesse Then nature bids. Survey such when they write, No clause but's justl'd with an epithite. So powerfully you draw when you perswade, Passions in you in us are vertues made; Such is the magick of that lawfull shell That where it doth but talke, it doth compell: For no Apelles 'till this time e're drew A Venus to the waste so well as you. W. Rudyerd.<7.1>
<7.1> Only son of Sir Benjamin Rudyerd, Kt., known as a poet and a friend of poets, and as a warm advocate of Episcopacy. See MEMOIRS OF SIR B. R., edited by Manning, 1841, 8vo, p. 257.
The world shall now no longer mourne nor vex For th' obliquity of a cross-grain'd sex; Nor beauty swell above her bankes, (and made For ornament) the universe invade So fiercely, that 'tis question'd in our bookes, Whether kils most the Amazon's sword or lookes. Lucasta in loves game discreetly makes Women and men joyntly to share the stakes, And lets us know, when women scorne, it is Mens hot love makes the antiparisthesis; And a lay lover here such comfort finds As Holy Writ gives to affected minds. The wilder nymphs, lov's power could not comand, Are by thy almighty numbers brought to hand, And flying Daphnes, caught, amazed vow They never heard Apollo court till now. 'Tis not by force of armes this feat is done, For that would puzzle even the Knight o' th' Sun;<8.1> But 'tis by pow'r of art, and such a way As Orpheus us'd, when he made fiends obay. J. Needler, Hosp. Grayensis.
<8.1> A celebrated romance, very frequently referred to by our old writers. Sir Thomas Overbury, in his CHARACTERS, represents a chambermaid as carried away by the perusal of it into the realms of romance, insomuch that she can barely refrain from forsaking her occupation, and turning lady-errant. The book is better known under the title of THE MIRROR OF PRINCELY DEEDES AND KNIGHTHOOD, wherein is shewed the worthinesse of the Knight of the Sunne, &c. It consists of nine parts, which appear to have been published at intervals between 1585 and 1601.
TO HIS NOBLE FRIEND, MR. RICHARD LOVELACE, UPON HIS POEMS.
SIR, Ovr times are much degenerate from those, Which your sweet Muse, which your fair fortune chose; And as complexions alter with the climes, Our wits have drawne th' infection of our times. That candid age no other way could tell To be ingenious, but by speaking well. Who best could prayse, had then the greatest prayse; 'Twas more esteemd to give then wear the bayes. Modest ambition studi'd only then To honour not her selfe, but worthy men. These vertues now are banisht out of towne, Our Civill Wars have lost the civicke crowne. He highest builds, who with most art destroys, And against others fame his owne employs. I see the envious caterpillar sit On the faire blossome of each growing wit. The ayre's already tainted with the swarms Of insects, which against you rise in arms. Word-peckers, paper-rats, book-scorpions, Of wit corrupted the unfashion'd sons. The barbed censurers begin to looke Like the grim Consistory on thy booke; And on each line cast a reforming eye Severer then the yong presbytery. Till, when in vaine they have thee all perus'd, You shall for being faultlesse be accus'd. Some reading your LUCASTA will alledge You wrong'd in her the Houses priviledge; Some that you under sequestration are, Because you write when going to the Warre; And one the book prohibits, because Kent Their first Petition by the Authour sent. But when the beauteous ladies came to know, That their deare Lovelace was endanger'd so: Lovelace, that thaw'd the most congealed brest, He who lov'd best, and them defended best, Whose hand so rudely grasps the steely brand, Whose hand so gently melts the ladies hand, They all in mutiny, though yet undrest, Sally'd, and would in his defence contest. And one, the loveliest that was
<7.1> Only son of Sir Benjamin Rudyerd, Kt., known as a poet and a friend of poets, and as a warm advocate of Episcopacy. See MEMOIRS OF SIR B. R., edited by Manning, 1841, 8vo, p. 257.
The world shall now no longer mourne nor vex For th' obliquity of a cross-grain'd sex; Nor beauty swell above her bankes, (and made For ornament) the universe invade So fiercely, that 'tis question'd in our bookes, Whether kils most the Amazon's sword or lookes. Lucasta in loves game discreetly makes Women and men joyntly to share the stakes, And lets us know, when women scorne, it is Mens hot love makes the antiparisthesis; And a lay lover here such comfort finds As Holy Writ gives to affected minds. The wilder nymphs, lov's power could not comand, Are by thy almighty numbers brought to hand, And flying Daphnes, caught, amazed vow They never heard Apollo court till now. 'Tis not by force of armes this feat is done, For that would puzzle even the Knight o' th' Sun;<8.1> But 'tis by pow'r of art, and such a way As Orpheus us'd, when he made fiends obay. J. Needler, Hosp. Grayensis.
<8.1> A celebrated romance, very frequently referred to by our old writers. Sir Thomas Overbury, in his CHARACTERS, represents a chambermaid as carried away by the perusal of it into the realms of romance, insomuch that she can barely refrain from forsaking her occupation, and turning lady-errant. The book is better known under the title of THE MIRROR OF PRINCELY DEEDES AND KNIGHTHOOD, wherein is shewed the worthinesse of the Knight of the Sunne, &c. It consists of nine parts, which appear to have been published at intervals between 1585 and 1601.
TO HIS NOBLE FRIEND, MR. RICHARD LOVELACE, UPON HIS POEMS.
SIR, Ovr times are much degenerate from those, Which your sweet Muse, which your fair fortune chose; And as complexions alter with the climes, Our wits have drawne th' infection of our times. That candid age no other way could tell To be ingenious, but by speaking well. Who best could prayse, had then the greatest prayse; 'Twas more esteemd to give then wear the bayes. Modest ambition studi'd only then To honour not her selfe, but worthy men. These vertues now are banisht out of towne, Our Civill Wars have lost the civicke crowne. He highest builds, who with most art destroys, And against others fame his owne employs. I see the envious caterpillar sit On the faire blossome of each growing wit. The ayre's already tainted with the swarms Of insects, which against you rise in arms. Word-peckers, paper-rats, book-scorpions, Of wit corrupted the unfashion'd sons. The barbed censurers begin to looke Like the grim Consistory on thy booke; And on each line cast a reforming eye Severer then the yong presbytery. Till, when in vaine they have thee all perus'd, You shall for being faultlesse be accus'd. Some reading your LUCASTA will alledge You wrong'd in her the Houses priviledge; Some that you under sequestration are, Because you write when going to the Warre; And one the book prohibits, because Kent Their first Petition by the Authour sent. But when the beauteous ladies came to know, That their deare Lovelace was endanger'd so: Lovelace, that thaw'd the most congealed brest, He who lov'd best, and them defended best, Whose hand so rudely grasps the steely brand, Whose hand so gently melts the ladies hand, They all in mutiny, though yet undrest, Sally'd, and would in his defence contest. And one, the loveliest that was