Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, LOVES MONARCHIE, by JOSEPH BEAUMONT



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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

LOVES MONARCHIE, by                    
First Line: O mighty love / thou universall life & soule
Last Line: Poore soule should not obey love's monarchie.
Subject(s): Christianity; Worship


O MIGHTY LOVE,
Thou Universall Life & Soule
Whose Powers doe move
And reigne alone from Pole to Pole,
Give Me thy Worthlesse Subject leave to sing
My due Allegiance to ye Worlds Sweet King.

Let other Muses
Goe court ye Wanton Mysterie
Of lewd abuses
Into a young Spruce Deitie:
Mine does no homage owe, but unto Thee,
Who, whilst ye other's blind, do'st all Things see.

And sweetly by
That golden Tide of Flames which flow
Forth from thine eye,
The Universe do'st garnish so
That Sacrilege looks out at every eye
Which into Thine its Wondring doth deny.

Those glorious Flames,
In which ye Quire above doth shine
Kindle ye Beames
Of all their Braverie at thine:
Thou art That LOVE, whose heat together ties
The Brotherhood of Heavns fair Hierarchies.

Thou at ye first
Into ye Sphears that warmth didst breath
Which since hath nurst
And fostered all Things beneath.
The Heavns hug this our World, because thy Arme
By its Supreeme imbraces keeps them warme.

By heat from Thee
The Elements doe kindly move:
Ev'n Fire would be
A cold dead thing, but for thy love:
But Thou to Wedlock drawst them all, untill
With Procreations they ye yeare doe fill.

No Southerne Wind
Or Westerne Gale blows on ye Springs;
Onely thy kind
And teeming Look new verdure brings:
The Sun, because Thou send'st Him, neerer comes,
And wakes cold Roots into their warmer Blooms.

Nature could not
In every Creatures Tribe & kind
Duely grow hot
With fruitfull Flames, lesse Thine be joyn'd
To teach them Life; All Births from Thee alone
Doe grow, Who art Eternitie's great Sonne.

Increase, saidst Thou,
At first, & Multiplie: with force
That word did goe,
And through ye World maintaine its course;
Where still it springs, & shall forever rise,
Till weary Time it selfe growes faint & dies.

These honest are
And genuine Fires: but those, whose flames
Blush to appeare,
Unlesse array'd in borrowed Names,
Flow not from Thee: LUSTS stink, & Looks doe tell
That when most trimme, She's but dissembled Hell.

The Law of Nations
That Catholik Glue, which strongly bindes
The widest Passions
Of most discordant distant Mindes,
Streames from thy liberall Love, which breathed then
This Humane Rule, when first it breathed Man.

That Countries can
Their single scattred Might congest
Into one Man,
And crowne it there; is not ye least
Reflection of thy loving Monarchie,
In whom all Powers are Freinds, & well agree.

They who know how
To marry Soules, & make up one
Bosome of two
Work by no Charme, but thine alone;
That Harmonie of Genius, which doth joine
All other Friends ye Eccho is of thine.

The mutuall Tide
Of filiall & parentall love,
Which swells so wide
That all ye World in it does move,
Is but a drop of that delicious Sea
Whose boundlesse Deeps ly treasur'd up in Thee.

But yet of all
Thy mighty Powers, none may compare
With those which fall
Upon soft yeilding Hearts, and Beare
Them Captives after Thee, to fill ye Traine
Of those sweet Conquests Thou on Earth dost gaine.

Oh how Compleat
Is thy Dominion in a Breast
Which joyes to meet
And kisse thy Scepter, which can cast
It selfe away on Thee, and scorne to live,
But by that Life thy blessed Eyes doe give!

For from thine Eye
It dayly drinks those living Flames
Of Heavn, wherby
Deliciously it breath's, & frames
All its Deportments by that golden Book,
Whose Rules it reads in thy Majestik Look.

And heere dost Thou
Display thine absolute Monarchie,
And not allow
The conquer'd Heart its owne to bee.
'Tis not its owne: And yet by being Thine
'Tis more its owne, then if it still were mine.

Mine, did I say?
The ready Rhime made me too bold:
Such Hearts as they
Were those, which warm'd brave Breasts of old
In ye fresh Spring of Pietie: But I
In their chill lanquid Age, all frozen lie.

And yet this Ice
May capable of thawing bee
If Thy pure Eyes
Will glance their potent beames on Me.
Forbid it, mighty King of Hearts, that my
Poore Soule should not obey LOVE'S MONARCHIE.





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