Classic and Contemporary Poetry
A DIVINE LOVE, by EDWARD HERBERT Poet's Biography First Line: Why should dull art, which is wise nature's ape Last Line: But a true hell that leads to her false heaven? Alternate Author Name(s): Cherbury, 1st Baron Herbert Of; Herbert Of Cherbury, Edward Herbert, 1st Baron; Herbert Of Cherbury, Lord | ||||||||
WHY should dull Art, which is wise Nature's ape, If she produce a shape So far beyond all patterns that of old Fell from her mould, As thine, admir'd Lucinda, not bring forth An equal wonder to express that worth In some new way , that hath Like her great work no print of vulgar path? Is it because the rapes of poetry, Rifling the spacious sky Of all his fires, light, beauty, influence, Did those dispense On aëry creations, that surpass'd The real works of Nature, she at last, To prove their raptures vain, Show'd such a light as poets could not feign? Or is it 'cause the factious wits did vie, With vain idolatry, Whose goddess was supreme, and so had hurl'd Schism through the world; Whose priest sung sweetest lays; thou didst appear, A glorious mystery, so dark, so clear, As Nature did intend All should confess, but none might comprehend? Perhaps all other beauties share a light Proportion'd to the sight Of weak mortality, scatt'ring such loose fires As stir desires, And from the brain distil salt amorous rheums, Whilst thy immortal flame such dross consumes, And from the earthy mould With purging fires severs the purer gold. If so, then why in Fame's immortal scroll Do we their names enrol, Whose easy hearts and wanton eyes did sweat With sensual heat? If Petrarch's unarm'd bosom catch a wound From a light glance, must Laura be renown'd? Or both a glory gain, He from ill-govern'd love, she from disdain? Shall he more fam'd in his great art become, For wilful martyrdom? Shall she more title gain to chaste and fair, Through his despair? Is Troy more noble 'cause to ashes turn'd Than virgin cities that yet never burn'd? Is fire, when it consumes Temples, more fire than when it melts perfumes? 'Cause Venus from the ocean took her form, Must love needs be a storm? 'Cause she her wanton shrines in islands rears, Through seas of tears, O'er rocks and gulfs, with our own sighs for gale, Must we to Cyprus or to Paphos sail? Can there no way be given But a true hell that leads to her false heaven? | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...DITTY IN IMITATION OF THE SPANISH: ENTRE TANTO QUE L'AVRIL by EDWARD HERBERT EPITAPH FOR SIR PHILIP SIDNEY, AT ST. PAUL'S WITHOUT A MONUMENT ... by EDWARD HERBERT TO HIS WATCH, WHEN HE COULD NOT SLEEP by EDWARD HERBERT A DESCRIPTION by EDWARD HERBERT A DITTY MADE BY LORENZO ALLEGRE TO ONE SLEEPING TO BE SUNG by EDWARD HERBERT A MEDITATION UPON HIS WAX CANDLE BURNING OUT by EDWARD HERBERT A MERRY RHYME SENT TO THE LADY WROTH .. BIRTH OF LORD PEMBROKE'S CHILD by EDWARD HERBERT |
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