Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, TO A LADY THAT FORBADE TO LOVE BEFORE COMPANY, by JOHN SUCKLING


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

TO A LADY THAT FORBADE TO LOVE BEFORE COMPANY, by                     Poet's Biography
First Line: What! No more favours? Not a ribband more
Last Line: Then smil'd, and then away did run.


WHAT! no more favours? Not a ribband more,
Not fan nor muff to hold as heretofore?
Must all the little blisses then be left,
And what was once love's gift become our theft?
May we not look ourselves into a trance,
Teach our souls parley at our eyes, not glance,
Not touch the hand, not by soft wringing there
Whisper a love that only yes can hear?
Not free a sigh, a sigh that's there for you?
Dear, must I love you, and not love you too?
Be wise, nice fair; for sooner shall they trace
The feather'd choristers from place to place,
By prints they make in th' air, and sooner say
By what right line the last star made his way
That fled from heaven to earth, than guess to know
How our loves first did spring, or how they grow.
Love is all spirit: fairies sooner may
Be taken tardy, when they night-tricks play,
Than we. We are too dull and lumpish rather:
Would they could find us both in bed together!

LEANING her head upon my breast,
There on love's bed she lay to rest;
My panting heart rock'd her asleep,
My heedful eyes the watch did keep;
Then love by me being harbour'd there,
(No hope to be his harbinger,)
Desire his rival kept the door;
For this of him I begg'd no more,
But that, our mistress to entertain,
Some pretty fancy he would frame,
And represent it in a dream,
Of which myself should give the theme.
Then first these thoughts I bid him show,
Which only he and I did know,
Array'd in duty and respect,
And not in fancies that reflect;
Then those of value next present,
Approv'd by all the world's consent;
But to distinguish mine asunder,
Apparell'd they must be in wonder.
Such a device then I would have,
As service, not reward, should crave,
Attir'd in spotless innocence,
Not self-respect, nor no pretence:
Then such a faith I would have shown,
As heretofore was never known,
Cloth'd with a constant clear intent,
Professing always as it meant:
And if love no such garments have,
My mind a wardrobe is so brave,
That there sufficient he may see
To clothe Impossibility.
Then beamy fetters he shall find,
By admiration subtly twin'd,
That will keep fast the wanton'st thought
That e'er imagination wrought:
There he shall find of joy a chain,
Fram'd by despair, of her disdain,
So curiously that it can't tie
The smallest hopes that thoughts now spy.

There acts as glorious as the sun
Are by her veneration spun,
In one of which I would have brought
A pure, unspotted, abstract thought,
Considering her as she is good,
Not in her frame of flesh and blood.
These atoms then, all in her sight,
I bade him join, that so he might
Discern between true love's creation,
And that love's form that's now in fashion.
Love, granting unto my request,
Began to labour in my breast;
But with the motion he did make,
It heav'd so high that she did wake,
Blush'd at the favour she had done,
Then smil'd, and then away did run.





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