Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, THE ADVICE, by JOHN WILMOT


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

THE ADVICE, by                 Poet Analysis     Poet's Biography
First Line: All things submit themselves to your command
Last Line: Forgoing sense for a fantastic name.
Alternate Author Name(s): Rochester, 2d Earl Of
Subject(s): Love


All things submit themselves to your command,
Fair Celia, when it does not Love withstand;
The power it borrows from your eyes alone
All but the god must yield to, who has none.
Were he not blind, such are the charms you have,
He'd quit his godhead to become your slave,
Be proud to act a mortal hero's part,
And throw himself, for fame, on his own dart.
But fate has otherwise disposed of things,
In different bands subjecting slaves and kings:
Fettered in forms of royal state are they,
While we enjoy the freedom to obey.
That fate (like you, resistless) does ordain
To Love, that over beauty he shall reign.
By harmony the universe does move,
And what is harmony but mutual love?
Who would resist an empire so divine,
Which universal nature does enjoin?
See gentle brooks, how quietly they glide,
Kissing the rugged banks on either side,
While in their crystal streams at once they show,
And with them feed, the flowers which they bestow.
Though rudely thronged by a too-near embrace,
In gentle murmurs they keep on their pace
To their loved sea, for ev'n streams have desires:
Cool as they are, they feel Love's powerful fires,
And with such passion that if any force
Stop or molest them in their amorous course,
They swell with rage, break down and ravage o'er
The banks they kissed, the flowers they fed before.
Submit then, Celia, ere you be reduced,
For rebels, vanquished once, are vilely used,
And such are you whene'er you dare obey
Another passion, and your love betray.
You are Love's citadel; by you he reigns
And his proud empire o'er the world maintains.
He trusts you with his stratagems and arms:
His frowns, his smiles, and all his conquering charms.
Beauty's no more but the dead soil which Love
Manures, and does by wise commerce improve.
Sailing by sighs, through seas of tears he sends
Courtships from foreign hearts. For your own ends
Cherish the trade, for as with Indians we
Get gold and jewels for our trumpery,
So to each other, for their useless toys,
Lovers afford whole magazines of joys.
But if you're fond of baubles, be, and starve;
Your gewgaw reputation still preserve;
Live upon modesty and empty fame,
Forgoing sense for a fantastic name.





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