Classic and Contemporary Poetry
EPISTLE TO THE LADY ANNE CLIFFORD, by SAMUEL DANIEL Poet Analysis Poet's Biography First Line: Unto the tender youth of those fair eyes Last Line: Than th' ancestors' fair glory gone before. Subject(s): Clifford, Anne. Countess Of Pembroke; Eyes; Praise; Silence; Women; Youth | ||||||||
Unto the tender youth of those fair eyes The light of judgment can arise but new, And young the world appears t' a young conceit, Whilst through the unacquainted faculties The late-invested soul doth rawly view Those objects which on that discretion wait. Yet you that such a fair advantage have, Both by your birth and happy powers, t' outgo And be before your years, can fairly guess What hue of life holds surest without stain, Having your well-wrought heart full furnished so With all the images of worthiness, As there is left no room at all t' invest Figures of other form but sanctity, Whilst yet those clean-created thoughts within The garden of your innocencies rest, Where are no motions of deformity, Nor any door at all to let them in. With so great care doth she that hath brought forth That comely body labor to adorn That better part, the mansion of your mind, With all the richest furniture of worth, To make you'as highly good as highly born, And set your virtues equal to your kind. She tells you how that honor only is A goodly garment put on fair deserts, Wherein the smallest stain is greatest seen, And that it cannot grace unworthiness, But more apparent shows defective parts, How gay soever they are decked therein. She tells you too how that it bounded is, And kept enclosed with so many eyes As that it cannot stray and break abroad Into the private ways of carelessness, Nor ever may descend to vulgarize, Or be below the sphere of her abode; But like to those supernal bodies set Within their orbs, must keep the certain course Of order, destined to their proper place, Which only doth their note of glory get; Th' irregular appearances enforce A short respect, and perish without grace, Being meteors, seeming high but yet low placed, Blazing but while their dying matters last. Nor can we take the just height of the mind But by that order which her course doth show, And which such splendor to her actions gives; And thereby men her eminency find, And thereby only do attain to know The region and the orb wherein she lives. For low in th' air of gross uncertainty Confusion only rolls, order sits high. And therefore, since the dearest thing on earth, This honor, madam, hath his stately frame From th' heav'nly order, which begets respect, And that your nature, virtue, happy birth Have therein highly interplaced your name, You may not run the least course of neglect. For where not to observe is to profane Your dignity, how careful must you be To be yourself, and though you may to all Shine fair aspects, yet must the virtuous gain The best effects of your benignity; Nor must your common graces cause to fall The price of your esteem t' a lower rate Than doth befit the pitch of your estate. Nor may you build on your sufficiency, For in our strongest parts we are but weak; Nor yet may over-much distrust the same, Lest that you come to check it so thereby As silence may become worse than to speak, Though silence women never ill became, And none, we see, were ever overthrown By others' flatt'ry more than by their own. For though we live amongst the tongues of praise, And troops of soothing people that collaud All that we do, yet 'tis within our hearts Th' ambushment lies, that evermore betrays Our judgments, when ourselves be come t' applaud Our own ability, and our own parts. So that we must not only fence this fort Of ours against all others' fraud, but most Against our own, whose danger is the most Because we lie the nearest to do hurt, And soon'st deceive ourselves, and soon'st are lost By our best powers that do us most transport. Such are your holy bounds, who must convey (If God so please) the honorable blood Of Clifford and of Russell, led aright To many worthy stems, whose offspring may Look back with comfort to have had that good To spring from such a branch that grew so'upright; Since nothing cheers the heart of greatness more Than th' ancestors' fair glory gone before. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...BETWEEN THE WARS by ROBERT HASS THE GOLDEN SHOVEL by TERRANCE HAYES ALONG WITH YOUTH by ERNEST HEMINGWAY THE BLACK RIVIERA by MARK JARMAN |
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