The Exequies. DRaw neer You Lovers that complain Of Fortune or Disdain, Melt the hard marble with your grones, Whose cold imbraces the sad Subject hide No Verse No Epicedium bring, Nor peaceful Requiem sing, Yet strew Upon my dismall Grave, Such offerings as you have, Forsaken Cypresse and sad Ewe; For kinder Flowers can take no Birth Or growth from such unhappy Earth. Weep only o're my Dust, and say, Here lies To Love and Fate an equal Sacrifice. Thomas Stanley. IO 20 Though you as beauteous are, and flowers as gay, Hough you be absent here, I needs must say As ever they were wont to be; As if they sung to pleasure you: I saw a Rose-Bud o'pe this morn; I'll swear 10 How could it be so fair, and you away? Could they remember but last year, How you did Them, They you delight, The sprouting leaves which saw you here, Would, looking round for the same sight in vain, Where ere you walk'd trees were as reverend made, Is't possible they should not know, Dull Creatures! 'tis not without Cause that she, In ancient times sure they much wiser were, When Orpheus had his song begun, How would those learned trees have followed you? But who can blame them now? for, since you're gone, You did their Natural Rights invade; Where ever you did walk or sit, The thickest Boughs could make no shade, The fairest Flowers could please no more, neer you, IO 20 30 40 When e're then you come hither, that shall be "Tis you the best of Seasons with you bring; Abraham Cowley. L The Change. Ove in her Sunny Eyes does basking play ; Love walks the pleasant Mazes of her Hair; Within Love's foes, his greatest foes abide, So the Earths face, Trees, Herbs, and Flowers do dress, But at the Center, Darkness is, and Hell; There wicked Spirits, and there the Damned dwell. With me alas, quite contrary it fares; Darkness and Death lies in my weeping eyes, Keeps his proud Court, and ne're is seen. Oh take my Heart, and by that means you'll prove Give me but Yours, I'll by that change so thrive, So powerful is this change, it render can, 20 Abraham Cowley. To his Coy Mistress. HAd Ad we but World enough, and Time, Should'st Rubies find: I by the Tide Love you ten years And you should if you please refuse My vegetable Love should grow Heart. 10 20 |