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Classic and Contemporary Poetry
TO MISTRESS CICELY CROFTS, by JOHN SUCKLING Poet's Biography
First Line: O that I were all soul, that I might prove
Last Line: Then let our souls begin where they did end.
First Line: O that I were all soul, that I might prove
Last Line: Then let our souls begin where they did end.
O THAT I were all soul, that I might prove
For you as fit a love
As you are for an angel; for, I know,
None but pure spirits are fit loves for you.
You are all ethereal; there 's in you no dross,
Nor any part that 's gross:
Your coarsest part is like a curious lawn,
The vestal relics for a covering drawn.
Your other parts, part of the purest fire
That e'er Heaven did inspire,
Makes every thought that is refin'd by it,
A quintessence of goodness and of wit.
Thus have your raptures reach'd to that degree
In Love's philosophy,
That you can figure to yourself a fire
Void of all heat, a love without desire.
Nor in Divinity do you go less:
You think, and you profess,
That souls may have a plenitude of joy,
Although their bodies meet not to employ.
But I must needs confess, I do not find
The motions of my mind
So purifi'd as yet, but at the best
My body claims in them an interest.
I hold that perfect joy makes all our parts
As joyful as our hearts.
Our senses tell us, if we please not them,
Our love is but a dotage or a dream.
How shall we then agree? you may descend,
But will not, to my end;
I fain would tune my fancy to your key,
But cannot reach to that obstructed way.
There rests but this, that whilst we sorrow here,
Our bodies may draw near:
And when no more their joys they can extend,
Then let our souls begin where they did end.
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A SUPPLEMENT OF AN IMPERFECT COPY OF VERSES OF MR. WILL. SHAKESPEARE'S by JOHN SUCKLING
UPON MY LADY CARLISLE'S WALKING IN HAMPTON COURT GARDEN by JOHN SUCKLING
A PEDLAR OF SMALL-WARES by JOHN SUCKLING
A PROLOGUE OF THE AUTHOR'S TO A MASQUE AT WHITTON by JOHN SUCKLING