Poetry Explorer

Classic and Contemporary Poetry

THE CURE by THOMAS STANLEY

Poet Analysis

First Line: WHAT BUSY CARES TOO TIMELY BORN
Last Line: HATH FORFEITED HER OWN.
@3Nymph.@1

WHAT busy cares too timely born
(Young Swain!) disturb thy sleep?
Thy early sighs awake the Morn,
Thy tears teach her to weep.

@3Shepherd.@1

Sorrows, fair Nymph, are full alone;
Nor counsel can endure.

@3Nymph.@1

Yet thine disclose, for until known
Sickness admits no cure.

@3Shepherd.@1

My griefs are such as but to hear
Would poison all thy joys,
The pity which thou seem'st to bear
My health, thine own destroys.

@3Nymph.@1

How can diseased minds infect?
Say what thy grief doth move!

@3Shepherd.@1

Call up thy virtue to protect
Thy heart, and know 'twas love.

@3Nymph.@1

Fond Swain!

@3Shepherd.@1

By which I have been long
Destin'd to meet with hate.

@3Nymph.@1

Fy, Shepherd, fy: thou dost love wrong,
To call thy crime thy fate.

@3Shepherd.@1

Alas what cunning could decline
What force can love repel?

@3Nymph.@1

Yet, there's a way to unconfine
Thy heart.

@3Shepherd.@1

For pity tell.

@3Nymph.@1

Choose one whose love may be allur'd
By thine: who ever knew
Inveterate diseases cur'd
But by receiving new?

@3Shepherd.@1

All will like her my soul perplex.

@3Nymph.@1

Yet try.

@3Shepherd.@1

Oh could there be,
But any softness in that sex,
I'd wish it were in thee.

@3Nymph.@1

Thy prayer is heard: learn now t' esteem
The kindness she hath shown,
Who thy lost freedom to redeem
Hath forfeited her own.



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