Classic and Contemporary Poetry
LOVES ADVENTURE, by JOSEPH BEAUMONT First Line: Love once a wooing went, & tride Last Line: His nuptiall feast princelike to solemnize. Subject(s): Churches; Courtship; God; Cathedrals | ||||||||
LOVE once a wooing went, & tride To winne Himselfe a Rurall Bride: His robe of State He layd aside And clad in homely country weeds, he took For his bright Scepter a plaine shepherds Crook. Nor was't some Masque yt He intended, But in good earnest thus He rended Through Heavn his passage, & descended, Where in a Stable His first Bed He made: What Shepherd ever playner Lodging had? There meeting wth his Love, arrayd In equall Habit (for ye Maid Was Humane Nature) He assayd To captive Her affections by all arts That Love can trie upon beloved Hearts. By Blandishments of Tongue & Eye, By many a tear & many a sigh, He strove Her Soule to mollifie. No dowry He required, yet was content. To jointure Her in Heavn, would shee consent. But proud & coy Shee scorned his Love, And with resolved denyall strove Her peremptory Heart to prove As hard as His was soft: No spouse sayes Shee, But one thats great & gallant is for Mee. (As if some rare piece She had been Of Beautie, or of Fortune Queen, And not a lump of Dust, as meane As He is Great: Had Pride not made her blind, In's Miracles She might his Godhead find). This cruell Word's unworthy Dart Strook deep in Love's most tender Heart Yet was too weak to make him start From his sweet enterprise: I have sayd He As good an aime; & darts as sharp as Shee. With that ten thousand times He shot; But Shee all flint & steele would not Yeild to one wound; which made Him plot An amorous vengeance, & brave tryall make Seing Life could not, by Death her Heart to break. I'l dye, He cryes, I'l soundly dye By mine owne mortall wounds I'le try To make her bleed, & venture by My languishment & death to make Her prove The dainty languishments, & deaths of Love. Good as this Great Word up he flyes Unto his Throne of Miseries, Where fastened by his wounds, he cryes Was ever Griefe like Mine, who here must dye For Love of Her, who doth my Love defye? And now His conquered Spouse does yeild Unto her Lord his bloody field, Who both Himselfe & Her hath killed: His most convincing Death it selfe did dart Into her breast, & slew her hardned Heart. And now by Love's Life shee doth live, Which dying He to her did give, And doth with loyall fervour strive To quit that mighty Score, & to repay Him to Him selfe, upon their Wedding Day. For He reviv'd againe & now Waits till ye Church be drest below, That He againe his Face may show Not now in Servile, but Majestik guise His Nuptiall Feast Princelike to solemnize. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...VIRGIN IN GLASS by JOSEPHINE JACOBSEN THE HOUR BETWEEN DOG AND WOLF: 3. FEEDING THE RABBITS by LAURE-ANNE BOSSELAAR EXPLICATION OF AN IMAGINARY TEXT by JAMES GALVIN DOMESDAY BOOK: FATHER WHIMSETT by EDGAR LEE MASTERS HALF-AND-HALF by NAOMI SHIHAB NYE AT THE CHURCH DOOR by GEORGE SANTAYANA Γενεθλιακον by JOSEPH BEAUMONT Γενεθλιακον by JOSEPH BEAUMONT A CONCLUSORIE HUMNE TO THE SAME WEEK; & FOR MY FRIEND by JOSEPH BEAUMONT |
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