Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, THE POETRESS'S PETITION, by MARGARET LUCAS CAVENDISH



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THE POETRESS'S PETITION, by             Poet's Biography
First Line: Like to a fever's pulse my heart doth beat
Last Line: And for her glory, garlands of fresh bayes.
Alternate Author Name(s): Newcastle, Duchess Of; Lucas, Margaret
Subject(s): Hearses; Hearts; Poetry & Poets; Silence


Like to a Feavers pulse my heart doth beat,
For fear my Book some great repulse should meet.
If it be naught, let her in silence lye,
Disturbe her not, let her in quiet dye;
Let not the Bells of your dispraise ring loud,
But wrap her up in silence as a Shrowd;
Cause black oblivion on her Hearse to hang,
Instead of Tapers, let darke night there stand;
Instead of Flowers to the grave her strow
Before her Hearse, sleepy, dull Poppy throw;
Instead of Scutcheons, let my Teares be hung,
Which greife and sorrow from my eyes out wrung:
Let those that beare her Corps, no Jesters be,
But sad, and sober, grave Mortality:
No Satyr Poets to her Funerall come;
No Altars rays'd to write Inscriptions on:
Let dust of all forgetfulnesse be cast
Upon her Corps, there let them lye and waste:
Nor let her rise againe; unlesse some know,
At Judgements some good Merits shee can shew;
Then shee shall live in Heavens of high praise:
And for her glory, Garlands of fresh Bayes.





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