Ingrateful Beauty Threatened
Know Celia, since thou art so proud, 'Twas I that gave thee thy renown; Thou hadst, in the forgotten crowd Of common beauties, liv'd unknown, Had not my verse exhal'd thy name, And with it imp'd the wings of fame. That killing power is none of thine, I gave it to thy voice, and eyes; Thy sweets, thy graces, all are mine; Thou art my star, shin'st in my skies; Then dart not from thy borrow'd sphere Lightning on him that fix'd thee there. Tempt me with such affrights no more, Lest what I made,
I uncreate; Let fools thy mystic forms adore, I'll know thee in thy mortal state; Wise poets that wrapp'd Truth in tales, Knew her themselves, through all her veils.
Form: ababcc6. imp'd: repaired, from the practice (in falconry) of grafting new feathers to an injured falcon's wing. 15. mystic forms: i.e., her supernatural soul, the soul being the \
Thomas Carew
Other author posts
Persuasions to Enjoy
If the quick spirits in your eye Now languish and anon must die; If every sweet and every grace Must fly from that forsaken face; Then, Celia, let us reap our joys Ere Time such goodly fruit destroys Or if that golden fleece must grow Fo...
Lips And Eyes
IN Celia's face a question did arise, Which were more beautiful, her lips or eyes “ We,” said the eyes, “send forth those pointed darts Which pierce the hardest adamantine hearts ” “ From us,” repli'd the lips, “proceed those blisse...
The Spring
Now that the winter's gone, the earth hath lost Her snow-white robes, and now no more the frost Candies the grass, or casts an icy cream Upon the silver lake or crystal stream; But the warm sun thaws the benumbed earth, And makes it tender; gives ...
To His Lady
SK me no more where Jove bestows, When June is past, the fading rose; For in your beauties' orient deep, These flow'rs, as in their causes, sleep
