Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, FASTING, by JOSEPH BEAUMONT


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

FASTING, by                    
First Line: What though her face be pale? This onely showes
Last Line: Keeps her stomach fresh for paradise.
Subject(s): Heaven; Humility; Sacrifices; Strength; Paradise


WHAT though Her face be pale? This onely showes
How She's of kin to Lilie-Chastitie:
And still that venerable palenesse flows
With Sprightfull vigor from her sober Eye.
She cares for no more Blood then will suffice
To clothe her Modestie in blushing guise.

What though Her looks leannesse & faintnesse speak?
Tis policy to keep Her strength within.
Let ye plump Gallants mighty Outworks make,
And fortifie their double lined Skin.
She better bears ye Seige, what ever foes
Whither from Earth or Hell themselves oppose.

Lesse are Her Walls, & therfore lesser need
Of Amunition to maintaine ye fight:
But greater far, and subtler is Her heed,
Who stands upon Her Watch both day & night
Whilst those fat Bulwarks first exposed lye
To ease & sleep, then to their Enemy.

Shee is no bigger then Her Selfe; She knows
What ballast fits Her, & layes in no more
Then keeps Her sure & steady as Shee Goes:
Her other Stowage Shee reserves for store
Of Virtues fraught, wch though ye glorious East
It selfe were hither ship'd, would prove ye best.

I'm not at leisure yet, bold Belly, stay
Sayes She, I must goe feed my hungry Heart:
This most needs meat, for this, if well fed, may
For ever live, whilst Thou but Mortall art.
Yet when ye Sunne is set, & I can see
My Heavn no more, Ile take some care of Thee.

Thus Shee Her dangerous Body doth secure,
Keeping it tame & humble; thus Her mind
Like to its native Heavn, is allway pure
From Clowds & Tempests, wch ye boistrous Wind
Of puft up Flesh doth raise: No rampant passion
Ruffles Her thoughts, & puts them out of fashion.

Shee allwayes is Her Selfe, active & free,
Absolute Mistress of Her owne calme Breast:
Whilst every part, & every facultie
Knows its owne Dutie, & does like it best,
No sparkle of Rebellion can peep
Where all their proper Orbs & Stations keep.

Then blame Her not, if freely Shee refuse
What learned Luxurie has studied out;
And scorne ye fulnesse Shee might justly use,
Those Dainties ever dear, & double bought;
For though unto ye Purse they costly are
Alas, they spend ye Heart much more by far.

Shee knows a Garden where true Dainties grow,
Sweets ever Sweet, ev'n after they are downe:
There would Shee feast, but 'tis not here below
In our dull World that those Delights are sowne.
Blame not Her Abstinence, She is most wise
Keeps Her Stomach fresh for Paradise.





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