Classic and Contemporary Poetry
NATALITIUM: MARTIJ 13, 1645, by JOSEPH BEAUMONT First Line: Tire'd with my psyche, (for ye song Last Line: Then, whilst in ease I live, of these soft poisons die. Subject(s): Birth; Prayer; Child Birth; Midwifery | ||||||||
TIRE'D with my PSYCHE, (for ye Song Though wondrous hudled, yet was long, And near A year Consumed in such singing, well may force A stronger Voice then mine, & make it hoarse.) 2 I took some time to breath, but strait Curs'd LAZINES which lay in wait, Did heap Its sleep Upon my Heart, & I grew well content With Ease, ev'n in the midst of active Lent. 3 Lent, & ye Spring, & my great Need Of being Buisie could not breed Desires Brisk fires, No, nor ye Spark of any Thought wch might Me in ye ways of good Imployment light: 4 Till rows'd by this important Day I started up, & wip'd away The Mist Which prest Upon mine Eys; & now I am awake: But whoe will say so else that hears me speak! 1 Can any Charitie beleve That I a fiction doe not weave, When I shall talk How I have heer In this Lifes Walk Gone Thirtie Year And yet can nothing shew wherby This Course of mine it self may justifie, Unless I use the trick of Travellers, to Lie? 2 He whoe would paint my Life aright Has nothing but a Blank to write; Pure Vanitie Its Arms doth reach About all my Fond Life; where such A plenitude of Emptines In all its annuall Circles bubling is That thirtie Cyphers may my Thirtie years express. 3 The more my Shame, You'l say: & so All blushing guilty I say too. I shall be yet More vain, yf I Did not admit That Vanitie Which everie Ey that reads but Me Doth in that prospect so compleatly see, That 'tis too late to crave Help of Hypocrisie! 4 'Tis true, our Nations sinfull Score From patient Heavn hath Vengance bore: Love, Peace, & Law, Obedience, Right, And Safetie, now Have taken flight, E'r since our woefull Isle began Within it self to raise an Ocean, And Tides of Blood about the desperate Country ran. 5 'Tis true, my Self have felt some share Of headlong & injurious Warr: But had my Hart Been brave & right, Surely my Part Had not been sleight; But with those faithfull Hero's whoe Impatient gallantrie bid battell to All Persecution, I had had the grace to goe. 6 They, noble Soules, long time before Layd up substantiall Virtue's store, But heedless I Had not the Witt Of Gallantrie That Stock to gett: Fond Drone, I playd & wantonized Untill my sunshine Summer was surprized With Winter, which all Heavn with clowds & storms disguized. 7 And now, alas, what can I doe But sitt, & think, & sing my Woe! I might have been All pure & white, As was this clean Leaf where I write, But now am farr more spotted, then Is this unhappie virgin Papyr when Deflour'd & stained thus, by my adulterate Pen. 8 Yet I can sigh, & wish for Tears To wash my Thirtie blotted years. And whoe can say But languishment And longing may Make Heavn relent! Whoe knows but Jesus will supplie What wants both in my hardned Hart, & Ey Out of his own deep Wounds, the Springs wch ne'r are drie? 9 This is my Hope: else would I not To Live, on any terms be got. Life is a thing Which doth belie Its Name, & cling With flatterie About the Hart it means to slay, Yf JESUS helpeth not to purge away The Poison wch amidst its smiling Looks does play. 10 O onely LORD OF LIFE & LOVE, Those pretious Names upon Me prove! I am thy DUST And ASHES, and My onely trust On Thee doth stand: Since Thou art pleased to repreive Me still, oh crown the Favour Thou dost give, And to thy Mercie's Praise & Honor let Me live. 11 I care not what becomes of Me In this our Warrs Calamitie: I care not though All Mischeifs bend At Me their Bowe, And everie Friend Turns Stranger unto my Distress, So long as I Thy favour may possess, And duelie answer it with bounden Loyallness. 12 I feel Rebellious Seeds would fain Amidst my Hart spring up again, And taint this year As they have done All these which are Allready runn. Help, help, sweet JESU; rather I In any deadly Agonie would frie; Then, whilst in ease I live, of these soft Poisons die. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...WHY I AM AFRAID OF TURNING THE PAGE by CATE MARVIN ACCIDENTS OF BIRTH by WILLIAM MEREDITH ONE FOR ALL NEWBORNS by THYLIAS MOSS CURRICULUM VITAE by LISEL MUELLER FOUND IN THE CABBAGE PATCH by LISEL MUELLER 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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