Lucasta [30]
aire doth sing, and fire is<32.4> musicall.
IX. Awake from the dead vault in which you dwell, All's loyall here, except your thoughts rebell Which, so let loose, often their gen'rall quell.
X. See! she obeys! By all obeyed thus, No storms, heats, colds, no soules contentious, Nor civill war is found; I meane, to us.
XI. Lovers and angels, though in heav'n they show, And see the woes and discords here below, What they not feele, must not be said to know.
<32.1> Original has COLME.
<32.2> i.e. own.
<32.3> Original reads YOUR.
<32.4> Original has FIRE'S, but FIRE IS is required by the metre, and it is probably what the poet wrote.
AMARANTHA. A PASTORALL.<33.1>
Up with the jolly bird of light Who sounds his third retreat to night; Faire Amarantha from her bed Ashamed starts, and rises red As the carnation-mantled morne, Who now the blushing robe doth spurne, And puts on angry gray, whilst she, The envy of a deity, Arayes her limbes, too rich indeed To be inshrin'd in such a weed; Yet lovely 'twas and strait, but fit; Not made for her, but she to it: By nature it sate close and free, As the just bark unto the tree: Unlike Love's martyrs of the towne, All day imprison'd in a gown, Who, rackt in silke 'stead of a dresse, Are cloathed in a frame or presse, And with that liberty and room, The dead expatiate in a tombe. No cabinets with curious washes, Bladders and perfumed plashes; No venome-temper'd water's here, Mercury is banished this sphere: Her payle's all this, in which wet glasse She both doth cleanse and view her face. Far hence, all Iberian smells, Hot amulets, Pomander spells, Fragrant gales, cool ay'r, the fresh And naturall odour of her flesh, Proclaim her sweet from th' wombe as morne. Those colour'd things were made, not borne. Which, fixt within their narrow straits, Do looke like their own counterfeyts. So like the Provance rose she walkt, Flowerd with blush, with verdure stalkt; Th' officious wind her loose hayre curles, The dewe her happy linnen purles, But wets a tresse, which instantly Sol with a crisping beame doth dry. Into the garden is she come, Love and delight's Elisium; If ever earth show'd all her store, View her discolourd budding floore; Here her glad eye she largely feedes, And stands 'mongst them, as they 'mong weeds; The flowers in their best aray As to their queen their tribute pay, And freely to her lap proscribe A daughter out of ev'ry tribe. Thus as she moves, they all bequeath At once the incense of their breath. The noble Heliotropian Now turnes to her, and knowes no sun. And as her glorious face doth vary, So opens loyall golden Mary<33.2> Who, if but glanced from her sight, Straight shuts again, as it were night. The violet (else lost ith' heap) Doth spread fresh purple for each step, With whose humility possest, Sh' inthrones the Poore Girle<33.3> in her breast: The July-flow'r<33.4> that hereto thriv'd, Knowing her self no longer-liv'd, But for one look of her upheaves, Then 'stead of teares straight sheds her leaves. Now the rich robed Tulip who, Clad all in tissue close, doth woe Her (sweet to th' eye but smelling sower), She gathers to adorn her bower. But the proud Hony-suckle spreads Like a pavilion her heads, Contemnes the wanting commonalty, That but to two ends usefull be, And to her lips thus aptly plac't, With smell and hue presents her tast. So all their due obedience pay, Each thronging to be in her way: Faire Amarantha with her eye Thanks those that live, which else would dye: The rest, in silken fetters bound, By crowning her are crown and crown'd.<33.5> And now the sun doth higher rise, Our Flora to the meadow hies: The poore distressed heifers low, And as sh' approacheth gently bow, Begging her charitable leasure To strip them of their milkie treasure. Out of the yeomanry oth' heard, With grave aspect, and feet prepar'd, A rev'rend lady-cow drawes neare, Bids Amarantha welcome here; And from her privy purse lets fall A pearle or two, which
IX. Awake from the dead vault in which you dwell, All's loyall here, except your thoughts rebell Which, so let loose, often their gen'rall quell.
X. See! she obeys! By all obeyed thus, No storms, heats, colds, no soules contentious, Nor civill war is found; I meane, to us.
XI. Lovers and angels, though in heav'n they show, And see the woes and discords here below, What they not feele, must not be said to know.
<32.1> Original has COLME.
<32.2> i.e. own.
<32.3> Original reads YOUR.
<32.4> Original has FIRE'S, but FIRE IS is required by the metre, and it is probably what the poet wrote.
AMARANTHA. A PASTORALL.<33.1>
Up with the jolly bird of light Who sounds his third retreat to night; Faire Amarantha from her bed Ashamed starts, and rises red As the carnation-mantled morne, Who now the blushing robe doth spurne, And puts on angry gray, whilst she, The envy of a deity, Arayes her limbes, too rich indeed To be inshrin'd in such a weed; Yet lovely 'twas and strait, but fit; Not made for her, but she to it: By nature it sate close and free, As the just bark unto the tree: Unlike Love's martyrs of the towne, All day imprison'd in a gown, Who, rackt in silke 'stead of a dresse, Are cloathed in a frame or presse, And with that liberty and room, The dead expatiate in a tombe. No cabinets with curious washes, Bladders and perfumed plashes; No venome-temper'd water's here, Mercury is banished this sphere: Her payle's all this, in which wet glasse She both doth cleanse and view her face. Far hence, all Iberian smells, Hot amulets, Pomander spells, Fragrant gales, cool ay'r, the fresh And naturall odour of her flesh, Proclaim her sweet from th' wombe as morne. Those colour'd things were made, not borne. Which, fixt within their narrow straits, Do looke like their own counterfeyts. So like the Provance rose she walkt, Flowerd with blush, with verdure stalkt; Th' officious wind her loose hayre curles, The dewe her happy linnen purles, But wets a tresse, which instantly Sol with a crisping beame doth dry. Into the garden is she come, Love and delight's Elisium; If ever earth show'd all her store, View her discolourd budding floore; Here her glad eye she largely feedes, And stands 'mongst them, as they 'mong weeds; The flowers in their best aray As to their queen their tribute pay, And freely to her lap proscribe A daughter out of ev'ry tribe. Thus as she moves, they all bequeath At once the incense of their breath. The noble Heliotropian Now turnes to her, and knowes no sun. And as her glorious face doth vary, So opens loyall golden Mary<33.2> Who, if but glanced from her sight, Straight shuts again, as it were night. The violet (else lost ith' heap) Doth spread fresh purple for each step, With whose humility possest, Sh' inthrones the Poore Girle<33.3> in her breast: The July-flow'r<33.4> that hereto thriv'd, Knowing her self no longer-liv'd, But for one look of her upheaves, Then 'stead of teares straight sheds her leaves. Now the rich robed Tulip who, Clad all in tissue close, doth woe Her (sweet to th' eye but smelling sower), She gathers to adorn her bower. But the proud Hony-suckle spreads Like a pavilion her heads, Contemnes the wanting commonalty, That but to two ends usefull be, And to her lips thus aptly plac't, With smell and hue presents her tast. So all their due obedience pay, Each thronging to be in her way: Faire Amarantha with her eye Thanks those that live, which else would dye: The rest, in silken fetters bound, By crowning her are crown and crown'd.<33.5> And now the sun doth higher rise, Our Flora to the meadow hies: The poore distressed heifers low, And as sh' approacheth gently bow, Begging her charitable leasure To strip them of their milkie treasure. Out of the yeomanry oth' heard, With grave aspect, and feet prepar'd, A rev'rend lady-cow drawes neare, Bids Amarantha welcome here; And from her privy purse lets fall A pearle or two, which