I doe not grieue when some vnwholsome aire
Mildewes rich fields, nor when the clusters faire
Of Claret, rot through too abundant showers:
I grieue not when some gay vnsauory flowers
Are nipt and withered by th’vntimely Frost.
Onely herein my patience suffers most,
When the sweet Haruest and expected gaine
Of Vertues Vintage; ere full ripe is slaine.
When Time the Wheat with cruell sythe cuts downe,
But leaues such vulgar weeds as we vnmowne,
Darnell and Vetches: When these mortall lights
Extinguisht be, should guide our dimmer sights.
Then, then I weepe, and wish the watry clouds
Would furnish me with teares, to weepe whole flouds.
Then wish I Boreas (whose killing breath
is ne’er perfum’d with sweets of Indian Earth)
To lend me sighs. I wish the [illeg.] groanes,
The Pellicans thrill shrikes to expresse my moanes.
I wish my selfe those Dedalean wings,
To search the glorious Courts of th’Easterne Kings;
And a strong Pattent seal’d from powerfull IOVE,
Freely to take all that my thoughts approue.
First, would I then in Indian Forrests slit
The weeping Plant (with Iuorie Knife) to get
Such pretious liquor vncorrupted cleare.
As might enbalme heroyck Henrie here.
Then would I next to Tauris Gardens pierce
For rarest flowers, to strew vpon his Hearse:
Th’Indies should yeeld vs Diamonds, China Gold;
[illeg.] the Siluer that her lap doth hold;
Sylon and Ormus, all their Pearle should send,
The Congian Slaues from secret Caues should rend
The Chyan Marble, white Cassidonie,
Greene Lacedemon, and red Porpherie,
The pure white Marble got in Palestine,
And rare Numidian spotted Serpentine.
Tuskane should yeeld me then some Architect,
Whose artfull wit should first these Stones dissect
With Sand and toothlesse Saw; and then engraue
What stories there you memoriz’d would haue.
Which worke let mine imagination frame
So large, that the whole Earth might seeme to th’same
A fitting Basis, whence a loftie Spire,
Through the triple airie Regions, and much higher,
Should penetrate: so should the whole Earth be
His tombe, and the faire heauens his Canopie.
This Piramed, a Pharos, seruing right
For to direct the storme tost wandring VVight
To safetie: for since Fate dids life designe,
A patterne vnto this Cimmerian time
To imitate; tho Atropos accurst,
His Clew but new begun, in sunder burst;
Yet that small piece in tables Smaragdine,
I would preserue for light therein to shine
From these our Labyrinthian waies vneuen,
To guide vs iust that way he went to Heauen.
(John Hagthorpe)
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Based on Topics: Flowers Poems, Kings & Queens Poems, Gold Poems, Wit PoemsBased on Keywords: waies, siluer, storme, heauens, pharos, dissect, leaues, cimmerian, designe, dids, forrests