THENOT

Far from me are these Hight flashes bred from wanton heat and ease, I have forgotten what love and loving meant, Rhymes, Songs, and merry rounds, that oft are sent To the soft ear of Maid, are strange to me: Only I live admire a chastity, That neither pleasing age, smooth tongue, or gold, Could ever break upon, so sure the mould Is, that her mind was cast in: 'tis to her I only am reserved, she is my form, I stir By, breath, and move: 'tis she and only she Can make me happy or give misery. Stay there, thou constant Clorin if there be, Yet any partly of woman left in thee, To make thee light think yet before thou speak, think yet deer Clorin of your love, how true, If you had died, he would have be to you Think but how blessed, A constant woman is above the rest, Thon hadst no fame, that which thou didst Like good Was but thy Appetite that swayed thy blood, For than time to the best, for as a blast, That through a nouse comes, usually does cast, Things out of order: yet by chance may come, And blow some one thing to his proper room, So did thy Appetite, and not thy zeal. Sway the by chance to do some one thing well. Yet turn. Ther's none shall know that thou didst ever stain, Thy worthy stricknes, but shalt honnerd be And I will lie again under this tree, And pine and die for thee with more delight, Then I have sorrow now to know thee light, Right holy Sir I have not known this night, What the smooth face of Mirth was: or the sighed, Of any looseness, music, joy and ease, Have be to me, as bitter drug to please A Stomach lost with weakness, not a game That I am skilled at throghly, nor a dame, Went her tongue smoother then the feet of Time, Her beauy ever living Like the Rhyme, Our blessed Tyterus did sing of yore, No, were she more enticing then the store Of fruitful Summr, when the loaded tree, Bids the faint Traveller be bold and free It but to me Like Thunder gainst the bay, Whose lightning may enclose, but never stay Upon his charmed branches, such am I, Against the catchiug flames of woman's eye. It a vow, that drew me out last night, which I have now, Strictly performed, and homeward go to give fresh pasture to my sheep, that they may live. Father 'tis my care. Exit Theon to. Was ever man but I, Thus truly taken with uncertainty? Where shall that man be found that loves a mind Made up in constancy, and dares not find his love rewarded? here, let all men know, A wretch that lives to love his mistress so. This is the Cabin where the best of all Her sex, that ever breathed, or ever shall Give heat or happiness to the Shepherds side, Does only to her worthy self abide. Thou blessed star, I thank thee for thy light, Thou by whose power the darkness of sad night Is banished from the earth, in whose dull place Thy chaster beams play on the heavy face Of all the world: making the blue sea smile, To see how cunningly thou dost beguile Thy brother of his brightness, giving day Again from Chaos whiter then that way That leads to Jove's hie Court, and chaster far Then chastity it self: the blessed star That nightly shines, thou all the constancy That in all women was, or ere shall be: From whose fair eyeballs flies that holyfire, That ports style the mother of desire, Infusing into every gentle breast, A soul of greater price, and far more blessed Then that quick power which gives a difference Betwixt man and creatures of a lower sense. You may, and by her virtue learn to square And level out your life: for to be fair And nothing virtuous, only fits the eye Of gaudy youth, and swelling vanity. Then know, she's called the virgin of the grove, She that hath long since buried her chaste love, And now lives by his graven, for whose deer soul She hath vowed her self into the holy role Of strict virginity, 'tis her I so admire, Not any looser blood or new de ire. Thy brightness does amaze, So Phœbus may at Noon bid mortals gaze, Thy glorious constancy appears so bright, I dare not meet the Beams with my weakesight Why dost thou keep such spottlesse constancy? I do contemn thee now: and dare come near. And gayse upon thee, for me thinks that grace: Austerity, which sat upon that ace, Is gone, and thou Like others false maid see, This is the gain of foul Inconstance, Exit. Chaster then the morn, I have not wandered, or by strong illusion Into this virtuous place have made intrusion, But hither am I come (believe me fair) To seek you out, of whose great good the Air Is full, and strongly labors, while the found, Breaks against heaven, and drives into a stround The amazed Shepherd, that such virtue can Be resident in lesser then a man. Thou art of women's raze and full of gilded, Farewell all hope of that sex, while I thought, There was one good, I feared to find one nought But since there minds I all alike espy Hence forth I'll choose as the, by mine eye, why dost thou wound, His heart with Malice, against Women more. That hated all the Sex, but thee before, How much more pleasant had it be to me, To die then behold this change in thee, Yet, you return: let not the woman sway, Thou hast not ventured but bought Certain shame, Your Sexes Curse, foul falsehood, must and shall, I see once in your lives light on you all; I hate thee now: yet turn 'Tis no pain I suffer through disease, no beating vain Conveys infection dangerous to the heart, No partly impostumde to be curd by Art: This body holds, and yet a feller grief Then ever skilful hand did give relief Dwells on my soul, and may be healed by you, Fair beauteous virgin: Then fairest know I love you, Let me not Thou all perfection merit such a blot, For my true zealous faith. 'Tis not the white or read Inhabits in your cheek, that thus and wed My mind to adoration: nor your eye, Though it be full and fair, your forehead hie, And smooth as Pelops shoulder: not the smile Lies watching in those dimples, to beguile The easy soul, your hands and fingers long, With veins inameld richly, nor your tongue, Though it spoke sweeter then Arions Harp, Your hair woven into many a curious warp, Able in endless error to unfold The wandering soul, not the true perfect mould, Of all your body, which as pure does show, In Maiden whiteness as the Alpsien snow, All these, were but your constancy away, Would please me less then a black stormy day The wretched Seaman toiling through the deep. But while this honoured strictness you dare keep, Though all the plagues that ere begotten were, In the great womb of air were settled here In opposition, I would Like the tree, Shake off those drops of weakness, and be free Even in the arm of danger. Dearest deer, I dare not ask it, nor you must not grant, Stand strongly to your vow, and do not faint: Remember how he loved you, and be still, The same opinion speaks you, let not will, And that great God of wowen Appetite, Set up your blood again, do not invite Desire, and fancy for their long exile, To seat them once more in a pleasing smile: Be Like a Rock made firmly up gainst all The power of angry heaven, or the strong fallen Of Neptune's battery, if you yield I die To all affection: 'tis that loyalty You tie unto this graven I so admire, And yet theres something else I would desire, If you would hear me, but withal deny, Oh Pan, what and uncertain destiny Hangs over all my Hope's! I will retire, For if I longer stay, this double fire, Will lick my life up. Farewell thou soul of virtue, and be blessed For ever, while I wretched rest Thus to my self, yet grant me leave to dwell In kenning of this Arbour, yond am dell Over topped with mourning Cypress and sad Ewe, Shall be my Cabin, where I'll early r w, Before the Sun hath kissed this dew away, The hard uncertain chance which Fate does lay Upon this head.