Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, UPON A RIBBAND, by THOMAS CAREW


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UPON A RIBBAND, by                 Poet Analysis     Poet's Biography
First Line: This silken wreath, which circles in mine arm
Last Line: This makes my arm your prisoner; that, my heart.
Variant Title(s): Upon A Ribbon
Subject(s): Love


THIS silken wreath, which circles in mine arm,
Is but an emblem of that mystic charm
Wherewith the magic of your beauties binds
My captive soul, and round about it winds
Fetters of lasting love. This hath entwin'd
My flesh alone; that hath impal'd my mind.
Time may wear out these soft weak bands, but those
Strong chains of brass Fate shall not discompose.
This holy relic may preserve my wrist,
But my whole frame doth by that power subsist:
To that my prayers and sacrifice, to this
I only pay a superstitious kiss.
This but the idol, that's the deity;
Religion there is due; here, ceremony.
That I receive by faith, this but in trust;
Here I may tender duty: there, I must.
This order as a layman I may bear,
But I become Love's priest when that I wear.
This moves like air; that as the centre stands;
That knot your virtue tied; this but your hands.
That, Nature fram'd; but this was made by Art;
This makes my arm your prisoner; that, my heart.





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