Never a greater foe did Love disdaine,
Or trode on grasse so gay,
Nor Nimph greene leaves with whiter hand hath rent,
More golden haire the wind did never blow,
Nor fairer Dame hath bound in white attire,
Or hath in Lawne more gracious features tied,
Then my sweete Enemie.
Beautie and chastitie one place refraine,
In her beare equall sway:
Filling the world with wonder and content.
But they doo give me paine and double woe,
Since love and beautie kindled my desire,
And cruell chastitie from me denied
All sence of jollitie.
There is no Rose, nor Lillie after raine,
Nor flower in moneth of May,
Nor pleasant meade, nor greene in Sommer sent,
That seeing them, my minde delighteth so,
As that faire flower which all the heavens admire,
Spending my thoughts on her, in whom abide
All grace and gifts on hie.
Me thinks my heavenly Nimph I see againe
Her neck and breast display:
Seeing the whitest Ermine to frequent
Some plaine, or flowers that make the fairest show.
O Gods, I never yet beheld her nier,
Or farre, in shade, or Sunne, that satisfied
I was in passing by.
The Meade, the Mount, the River, Wood, and Plaine,
With all their brave array,
Yeeld not such sweete, as that faire face that’s bent
Sorrowes and joy in each soule to bestow
In equall parts, procur’d by amorous fire:
Beauty and Love in her their force have tried,
to blind each humane eye.
Each mind and will, which wicked vice dooth staine,
her vertues breake and stay:
All ayres infect by fire are purg’d and spent,
Though of a great foundation they did grow.
O body, that so brave a soule doo’st hire,
And blessed soule, whose vertues ever pried
above the starrie skie.
Onely for her my life in joyes I traine
my soule sings many a Lay:
Musing on her, new Seas I doo invent
Of soveraigne joy, wherein with pride I rowe.
The deserts for her sake I doo require,
For without her, the Springs of joy are dried.
and that I doo defie.
Sweete Fate, that to a noble deede doo’st straine,
and lift my hart to day:
Sealing her there with glorious ornament,
Sweete seale, sweete greefe, and sweetest overthrowe,
Sweete miracle, whose fame cannot expire,
Sweete wound, and golden shaft, that so espied
such heavenly companie
Of beauties grace in sweet vertues died,
As like were never in such yeares descried.
(Bartholomew Young)
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Based on Topics: God Poems, World Poems, Joy & Excitement Poems, Fire Poems, Beauty Poems, Fate & Destiny Poems, Body Poems, Desire Poems, Miracles PoemsBased on Keywords: infect, deede, raine, yeeld, pried, trode, disdaine, plaine, dooth, breake, defie