Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, THE SENTINEL; TO MY FRIEND, by JOSEPH BEAUMONT

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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

THE SENTINEL; TO MY FRIEND, by            
First Line: Thanks sweetest friend, who deckest me
Last Line: Be thou my second, though my self thou art.
Subject(s): Friendship; Gratitude

THANKS sweetest friend, who deckest me
In shewing me mine own Deformitie.
Alas, the eys ev'n of my Minde
Though plac'd within, to things within are blinde;
And, like those of my Body, on
Externals spend their gazing selvs alone.
Ay me, who thus become
Abroad quicksighted, but stark blinde at home.


My faithfull eyes are those whereby
The darkest bottom of my self I spy.
What fools were Poets, who could finde
No way but to conclude that Love is blinde!
He who himself would right discover,
The eys must borrow of a trusty Lover;
Eys whence indeed those darts
Of piercing fire flash forth which serch through hearts.


Dear Spie of me, thanks thanks again
For this discovery; now me thinks 'tis plain
How ougly I did muffled go
In Melancholies veil. I know no Foe
Whom more I hate than that black Witch,
Yet much I love her too: Alas in such
A snarled maze I move
That heer I love my hate, & hate my love.


Inestimable Sentinel,
Upon thy loving guard oh stand thou still:
Give the alarm whenever thou
These clowds discoverest gathering on my brow;
And help me in the charge, that I
May conquer by thy cheerfull bravery.
This way, my better Heart,
Be thou my Second, though my Self thou art.

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