Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, ODE, by RICHARD LOVELACE


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

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First Line: You are deceiv'd: I sooner may, dull fair
Last Line: No poet's pencil must or can do so.


YOU are deceiv'd: I sooner may, dull fair,
Seat a dark Moor in Cassiopeia's Chair,
Or on the glow-worm's useless light
Bestow the watching flames of night,
Or give the rose's breath
To executed death,
Ere the bright hue
Of verse to you;
It is just Heaven on beauty stamps a fame,
And we, alas! its triumphs but proclaim.

What chains but are too light for me, should I
Say that Lucasta in strange arms could lie?
Or that Castara were impure,
Or Saccharissa's faith unsure;
That Chloris' love, as hair,
Embrac'd each en'my's air:
That all their good
Ran in their blood?
'Tis the same wrong th' unworthy to enthrone,
As from her proper sphere t' have Virtue thrown.

That strange force on the ignoble hath renown,
As aurum fulminans it blows Vice down;
'Twere better, heavy one, to crawl
Forgot, than, raised, trod on fall:

All your defections now
Are not writ on your brow.
Odes to faults give
A shame must live.
When a fat mist we view, we coughing run;
But that once meteor drawn, all cry, Undone!

How bright the fair Paulina did appear,
When hid in jewels she did seem a star!
But who could soberly behold
A wicked owl in cloth of gold?
Or the ridiculous ape
In sacred Vesta's shape?
So doth agree
Just praise with thee;
For since thy birth gave thee no beauty, know
No poet's pencil must or can do so.





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