Lucasta [64]
smell. No serpent kiss poyson'd the tast, Each touch was naturally chast, And their mere Sense a Miracle.
VIII. Naked as their own innocence, And unembroyder'd from offence, They went, above poor riches, gay; On softer than the cignet's down, In beds they tumbled off their own: For each within the other lay.
IX. Thus did they live: thus did they love, Repeating only joyes above, And angels were but with cloaths on, Which they would put off cheerfully, To bathe them in the Galaxie, Then gird them with the heavenly zone.
X. Now, Chloris! miserably crave The offer'd blisse you would not have, Which evermore I must deny: Whilst ravish'd with these noble dreams, And crowned with mine own soft beams, Injoying of my self I lye.
<71.1> This and the succeeding stanza are omitted by Mr. Singer in his reprint.
TO A LADY WITH CHILD THAT ASK'D AN OLD SHIRT.<72.1>
And why an honour'd ragged shirt, that shows, Like tatter'd ensigns, all its bodie's blows? Should it be swathed in a vest so dire, It were enough to set the child on fire; Dishevell'd queen[s] should strip them of their hair, And in it mantle the new rising heir: Nor do I know ought worth to wrap it in, Except my parchment upper-coat of skin; And then expect no end of its chast tears, That first was rowl'd in down, now furs of bears.
But since to ladies 't hath a custome been Linnen to send, that travail and lye in; To the nine sempstresses, my former friends, I su'd; but they had nought but shreds and ends. At last, the jolli'st of the three times three Rent th' apron from her smock, and gave it me; 'Twas soft and gentle, subt'ly spun, no doubt; Pardon my boldnese, madam; HERE'S THE CLOUT.
<72.1> A portion of this little poem is quoted in Brand's POPULAR ANTIQUITIES (edit. 1849, ii. 70), as an illustration of the custom to which it refers. No second example of such an usage seems to have been known to Brand and his editors.
<> P. 183. TO A LADY WITH CHILDE THAT ASK'T AN OLD SHIRT. The custom to which the Poet here refers, was no doubt common in his time; although the indefatigable Brand does not appear to have met with any illustration of it, except in LUCASTA. But since the note at p. 183 was written, the following passage in the old morality of THE MARRIAGE OF WIT AND WISDOM (circa 1570) has come under my notice:--
"INDULGENCE [to her son WIT]. Well, yet before the goest, hold heare MY BLESSING IN A CLOUTE, WELL FARE THE MOTHER AT A NEEDE, Stand to thy tackling stout."
The allusion is to the contemplated marriage of WIT to his betrothed, WISDOM.
SONG.
I. In mine one monument I lye, And in my self am buried; Sure, the quick lightning of her eye Melted my soul ith' scabberd dead; And now like some pale ghost I walk, And with another's spirit talk.
II. Nor can her beams a heat convey, That may my frozen bosome warm, Unless her smiles have pow'r, as they, That a cross charm can countercharm. But this is such a pleasing pain, I'm loth to be alive again.
ANOTHER.
I did believe I was in heav'n, When first the heav'n her self was giv'n, That in my heart her beams did passe As some the sun keep in a glasse, So that her beauties thorow me Did hurt my rival-enemy. But fate, alas! decreed it so, That I was engine to my woe: For, as a corner'd christal spot, My heart diaphanous was not; But solid stuffe, where her eye flings Quick fire upon the catching strings: Yet, as at triumphs in the night, You see the Prince's Arms in light, So, when I once was set on flame, I burnt all ore the letters of her name.
ODE.
I. You are deceiv'd; I sooner may, dull fair, Seat a dark Moor in Cassiopea's<73.1> chair, Or on the glow-worm's uselesse light Bestow the watching flames of night, Or give the rose's breath To executed death, Ere the bright hiew
VIII. Naked as their own innocence, And unembroyder'd from offence, They went, above poor riches, gay; On softer than the cignet's down, In beds they tumbled off their own: For each within the other lay.
IX. Thus did they live: thus did they love, Repeating only joyes above, And angels were but with cloaths on, Which they would put off cheerfully, To bathe them in the Galaxie, Then gird them with the heavenly zone.
X. Now, Chloris! miserably crave The offer'd blisse you would not have, Which evermore I must deny: Whilst ravish'd with these noble dreams, And crowned with mine own soft beams, Injoying of my self I lye.
<71.1> This and the succeeding stanza are omitted by Mr. Singer in his reprint.
TO A LADY WITH CHILD THAT ASK'D AN OLD SHIRT.<72.1>
And why an honour'd ragged shirt, that shows, Like tatter'd ensigns, all its bodie's blows? Should it be swathed in a vest so dire, It were enough to set the child on fire; Dishevell'd queen[s] should strip them of their hair, And in it mantle the new rising heir: Nor do I know ought worth to wrap it in, Except my parchment upper-coat of skin; And then expect no end of its chast tears, That first was rowl'd in down, now furs of bears.
But since to ladies 't hath a custome been Linnen to send, that travail and lye in; To the nine sempstresses, my former friends, I su'd; but they had nought but shreds and ends. At last, the jolli'st of the three times three Rent th' apron from her smock, and gave it me; 'Twas soft and gentle, subt'ly spun, no doubt; Pardon my boldnese, madam; HERE'S THE CLOUT.
<72.1> A portion of this little poem is quoted in Brand's POPULAR ANTIQUITIES (edit. 1849, ii. 70), as an illustration of the custom to which it refers. No second example of such an usage seems to have been known to Brand and his editors.
<
"INDULGENCE [to her son WIT]. Well, yet before the goest, hold heare MY BLESSING IN A CLOUTE, WELL FARE THE MOTHER AT A NEEDE, Stand to thy tackling stout."
The allusion is to the contemplated marriage of WIT to his betrothed, WISDOM.
SONG.
I. In mine one monument I lye, And in my self am buried; Sure, the quick lightning of her eye Melted my soul ith' scabberd dead; And now like some pale ghost I walk, And with another's spirit talk.
II. Nor can her beams a heat convey, That may my frozen bosome warm, Unless her smiles have pow'r, as they, That a cross charm can countercharm. But this is such a pleasing pain, I'm loth to be alive again.
ANOTHER.
I did believe I was in heav'n, When first the heav'n her self was giv'n, That in my heart her beams did passe As some the sun keep in a glasse, So that her beauties thorow me Did hurt my rival-enemy. But fate, alas! decreed it so, That I was engine to my woe: For, as a corner'd christal spot, My heart diaphanous was not; But solid stuffe, where her eye flings Quick fire upon the catching strings: Yet, as at triumphs in the night, You see the Prince's Arms in light, So, when I once was set on flame, I burnt all ore the letters of her name.
ODE.
I. You are deceiv'd; I sooner may, dull fair, Seat a dark Moor in Cassiopea's<73.1> chair, Or on the glow-worm's uselesse light Bestow the watching flames of night, Or give the rose's breath To executed death, Ere the bright hiew