Classic Poem

The Argument

The Lovers sad despairing plaints ,
Bright Venus with his love acquaints ;
Sweetly importun'd he doth shew,
From whom proceedeth this his woe.

1

Yet never durst his faint and coward heart,
(Ah foole! faint heart faire Lady ne're could win)
Assaile faire Venus with his new-learnt arte,
But kept his love, and burning flame within,
Which more flam'd out, the more he prest it in:
 And thinki[n]g oft, how just shee might disdaine him;
 While some coole mirtle shade did entertaine him,
 Thus sighing would he sit, & sadly would he plain him.

2

Ah fond, and haplesse Boy! nor know I whether,
More fond, or haplesse more, that all so high
Hast plac't thy heart, where love and fate together,
May never hope to end thy misery,
Nor yet thy selfe dare wish a remedy.
 All hindrances (alas) conspirc to let it;
 Ah fond, and haplesse Boy! if canst not get it,
 In thinking to forget, at length learne to forget it.

3

Ah farre too fond, but much more haplesse Swaine!
Seeing thy love can be forgotten never.
Serve and observe thy love with willing paine;
And though in vaine thy love thou doe persever,
Yet all in vaine doe thou adore her ever.
 No hope can crowne thy thoughts so farre aspiring,
 Nor dares thy selfe desire thine owne desiring,
 Yet live thou in her love, and dye in her admiring.

4

Thus oft the hopelesse Boy complayning lyes;
But she that well could guesse his sad lamenting,
(Who can conceale love from loves mothers eyes?)
Did not disdaine to give his love contenting:
Cruell the soule, that feedes on soules tormenting:
 Nor did she scorne him though not nobly borne,
 (Love is nobility) nor could she scorne,
 That with so noble skill her title did adorne.

5

One day it chanc't, thrice happy day and chance!
While loves were with the Graces sweetly sporting,
And to fresh musique sounding play and dance;
And Cupids selfe with Shepheards boyes consorting,
Laught at their pritty sport, and simple courting:
 Faire Venus seates the fearefull Boy close by her,
 Where never Phœbus Jealous lookes might eye her,
 And bids the Boy his Mistris, and her name descry her.

6

Long time the youth bound up in silence stood,
While hope and feare with hundred thoughts begun,
Fit Prologue to his speech; and fearefull blood
From heart and face, with these post-tydings runne,
That eyther now he's made, or now undone:
 At length his trembling words, with feare made weake,
 Began his too long silence thus to breake,
 While from his humble eies first reverence seem'd to speake.

7

Faire Queene of Love, my life thou maist command,
Too slender price for all thy former grace,
Which I receive at thy so bounteous hand;
But never dare I speake her name and face;
My life is much lesse-priz'd than her disgrace:
 And, for I know if I her name relate,
 I purchase anger, I must hide her state,
 Unlesse thou sweare by stix I purchase not her hate.

8

Faire Venus well perceiv'd his subtile shift,
And swearing gentle patience, gently smil'd:
While thus the Boy persu'd his former drift:
No tongue was ever yet so sweetely skil'd,
Nor greatest Orator so highly stil'd;
 Though helpt [with all] the choisest artes direction,
 But when he durst describe her heav'ns perfection,
 By his imperfect praise, disprais'd his imperfection.

9

Her forme is as her selfe, perfect Cælestriall,
No mortall spot her heavenly frame disgraces:
Beyond compare; such nothing is terrestriall;
More sweete then thought or pow'rfull wish embraces,
The map of heaven; the summe of all the Graces.
 But if you wish more truely limb'd to eye her,
 Than fainting speech, or words can well descry her,
 Look in a glasse, & there more perfect you may spy her.