Volume Ii Part 12 (1/2)

Thomas Carew [1598?-1639?]

A DEVOUT LOVER

I have a mistress, for perfections rare In every eye, but in my thoughts most fair.

Like tapers on the altar s.h.i.+ne her eyes; Her breath is the perfume of sacrifice; And wheresoe'er my fancy would begin, Still her perfection lets religion in.

We sit and talk, and kiss away the hours As chastely as the morning dews kiss flowers: I touch her, like my beads, with devout care, And come unto my courts.h.i.+p as my prayer.

Thomas Randolph [1605-1635]

ON A GIRDLE

That which her slender waist confined Shall now my joyful temples bind; No monarch but would give his crown His arms might do what this has done.

It was my Heaven's extremest sphere, The pale which held that lovely deer: My joy, my grief, my hope, my love, Did all within this circle move.

A narrow compa.s.s! and yet there Dwelt all that's good, and all that's fair!

Give me but what this ribbon bound, Take all the rest the sun goes round!

Edmund Waller [1606-1687]

CASTARA

Like the violet, which alone Prospers in some happy shade, My Castara lives unknown, To no looser eye betrayed: For she's to herself untrue Who delights i' the public view

Such is her beauty as no arts Have enriched with borrowed grace.

Her high birth no pride imparts, For she blushes in her place.

Folly boasts a glorious blood; She is n.o.blest, being good.

Cautious, she knew never yet What a wanton courts.h.i.+p meant; Nor speaks loud to boast her wit, In her silence, eloquent.

Of herself survey she takes, But 'tween men no difference makes.

She obeys with speedy will Her grave parents' wise commands; And so innocent, that ill She nor acts, nor understands.

Women's feet run still astray If to ill they know the way.

She sails by that rock, the court, Where oft virtue splits her mast; And retiredness thinks the port Where her fame may anchor cast.

Virtue safely cannot sit Where vice is enthroned for wit.