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



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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.

2

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.

3

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.

4

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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