Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, AFFLICTION, by JOSEPH BEAUMONT



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AFFLICTION, by            
First Line: Would you make your sweets more sweet?
Last Line: Heavn does prescribe for us, & that alone.
Subject(s): Temptation


WOULD you make your Sweets more Sweet?
Then you must both presse & beat,
Till that distresse
Make them confesse
Their uttmost Secrets in a deep-drawne breath;
Which drives a Clowd of Odours from beneath.

Would you make your idle Vine
Buisie grow, & big with Wine?
Kind Crueltie
The Salve must be.
Call for your hook, & lop ye wanton boughs
By which Shee grows indeed, but fruitlesse grows.

Has ye long neglected Dust
Sheath'd thy glittering Sword in Rust?
You must not spare
Your sharpest care:
Rubbing, & scouring, & such churlish wayes
Must faded Metalls to their splendor raise.

Yf you say, Whats that to Mee?
I'm no Odours, Sword, nor Tree:
Then tell me plain,
Do'st appertain
To Thee to be in thy Great Masters sight
(Though on those harsh termes) Fertile, Sweet, & Bright?

If so, in these Copies read
What salve best will suit thy need.
What e'r it be
Heer's none we see
But hard & sharp. Wholsome Affliction
Heavn does prescribe for Us, & that alone.





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