Classic and Contemporary Poetry
DETRACTION EXECRATED, by JOHN SUCKLING Poet's Biography First Line: Thou vermin slander, bred in abject minds Last Line: And in one year outlive methusalem. | ||||||||
THOU vermin slander, bred in abject minds Of thoughts impure, by vile tongues animate, Canker of conversation! couldst thou find Naught but our love whereon to show thy hate? Thou never wert when we two were alone; What canst thou witness then? thy base dull aid Was useless in our conversation, Where each meant more than could by both be said. Whence hadst thou thy intelligence; from earth? That part of us ne'er knew that we did love. Or from the air? Our gentle sighs had birth From such sweet raptures as to joy did move. Our thoughts, as pure as the chaste morning's breath, When from the night's cold arms it creeps away, Were cloth'd in words and maiden's blush that hath More purity, more innocence than they. Nor from the water couldst thou have this tale: No briny tear hath furrow'd her smooth cheek; And I was pleas'd: I pray what should he ail That had her love, for what else could he seek? We short'ned days to moments by love's art, Whilst our two souls in amorous ecstasy Perceiv'd no passing time, as if a part Our love had been of still eternity. Much less could have it from the purer fire: Our heat exhales no vapour from coarse sense. Such as are hopes, or fears, or fond desires; Our mutual love itself did recompense. Thou hast no correspondency in heaven, And th' elemental world thou seest is free: Whence hadst thou then this talking, monster? even From hell, a harbour fit for it and thee. Curs'd be th' officious tongue that did address Thee to her ears, to ruin my content: May it one minute taste such happiness, Deserving loos'd, unpiti'd it lament! I must forbear her sight, and so repay In grief those hours joy short'ned to a dram: Each minute I will lengthen to a day, And in one year outlive Methusalem. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A SUPPLEMENT OF AN IMPERFECT COPY OF VERSES OF MR. WILL. SHAKESPEARE'S by JOHN SUCKLING UPON MY LADY CARLISLE'S WALKING IN HAMPTON COURT GARDEN by JOHN SUCKLING A PEDLAR OF SMALL-WARES by JOHN SUCKLING A PROLOGUE OF THE AUTHOR'S TO A MASQUE AT WHITTON by JOHN SUCKLING |
|