CAELIA

Return? and whither love? Oh deadly word! That does import thy parting from my sighed, I herd thee name, mishap, ah my deer Lord! Should such strict limits bound so large delight? Oh cruel resolution, unkind dealing, And canst thou condescend to leave me so? Or from my presence privily thus stealing, Thinkest thou to rob a portion of my woe? This might indeed to thee yield some relief, To have thy ears not wounded with my moan, But would wound me with a continual grief. To fear all things where I should fear but one. Desist in time from this intended strife, With which thy thoughts have vnaduisdlie entered, Remember I have interest in thy life, Which I consent not to be thus aduentred. Hast thou not given a proof in thy green prime, That may content the most ambitious Hope's, While Atis was his own, Oh then was time To follow fancies unconfined scopes. Thy self then only camped in Fortune's bounds, Thou dost endanger Caelia likewise now, You sighs her breath, she suffer's in your wounds: You live in her, and she must die in you. YEt am I forced out of afflictions store, To ease my mind a few sad words to strain, And but unload it now to load it more, I empty but mine eyes to fill again. My soul must found even as my passion strike, Which now are tuned to nothing but mischief, My breast and eyes are both accursed alike, The cabinet of care, the cells of grief. Oh cruel heaven, fierce star, unhappy fate, Too foul injustice of the divine powers, Whose high disdain t'wards me with partial hate, The comfort of the world (sad world) devours. Cursed be the day in which I first was born, When lying tongues affirmed I come to light, A monstrous blasphemy, a mighty scorn, Since was to darkness and a ioy-set night. Oh happy if I then had chanced to smother, That the first hour had been the last to me, Then from one graven to-have gone unto another, I should have died to live, not lived to die. What profited to me my parents joys, That with such pomp did solemnize my birth, When I must be the mirror of annoys, And all my days taste but one dram of mirth? Which served for nothing but to make me know, The height of horror that was to succeed, I was but raised up high to be brought low, That short-lived joys might endless anguish breed. That nothing might for my confusion lack, All my best actions but betrayed my state, My virtues too were guilty of my wrack, And warred against me banded with my fate. For while my Virgin-yeares with praise I passed, Which did (ah that it did) too much import, My modest eye told that my mind was chased: This gained the warrant of the world's report, And Maids must have a great respect to fame, No greater dowry then and unstained name. Fair beauty's Goddess, thou canst bear record, My offering never made thine altar rich, All such lascivious fancies I abhorred, My freeborn thoughts no folly could bewitch. Till happily (ah so it seemed to some) Ah but unhappily th'euent hath proved: All this and more to Atis ears did come, Who straightway liked, and after liking loved: Then to our ears his purpose did impart, Not lip-sick-louer-like with words far sought, His tongue was but the agent of his heart, Yet could not tell the tenth partly of his thought. And lest his travels should have seemed to tend To breach my honour, work my fame's decay, He brought his wishes to a lawful end, And by effect, affection did bewray. Their Juno president of wedlock's vow, And Hymen with his saffron-coloured coat, Our love with sacred customs did allow, While ominous Owls no crosses did denote. The blessing that this marriage did procure, It was too great to have continued long, A thing that's vehement can not endure: Our joys far passed expressing of the tongue, Who ever did full satisfaction find, Yet with satiety were never cloyed, We seemed two bodies governed by one mind, Such was the happiness that we enjoyed. He loved me dearly, I obeyed his will, Proud of my self because that I was his, A harmony remained betwixt us still, Each in another placed their chiefest bliss. This moved immortals to a high disdain, That thus two worldlings who of death were heirs, Should in a paradise of joys remain, Which did exceed, at least did equal theirs. But chiefly Juno did despite it most, Who through a jealousy still jars with Jove, That bodie-prison'd souls of that could boast, Which she (although Heavens Queen) had not above. Thus even for envy of our rare delights; The fatal Sisters by the heavens suborned, Of my souls treasure closed the lovely lights, By which they thought the earth too much adorned. Oh but he is not dead, he lives in me, Ah but I live not, for I died in him, The one without the other can not be, If death have set his eyes, mine must look dim. Since to my sighed that Sun no more appeared, From whom my beauty's borrowed all their rays, A long eclipse that never shall be cleared, Hath darkened all the points of my sad days. Ay me! I live too long, he died too soon, Thus still the worst remain, the best depart, Of him who told how this black deed was done. The words Like swords shall ever wound my heart. Fierce tyrant Death, that in thy wrath didst take One half of me, and left and half behind, Take this to thee, or give me th'other back, Be altogether cruel, or all kind. For while I live, thou canst not wholly die, Oh! even in spite of death, yet still my choice, Oft with th'Imaginations love-quick eye, I think I see thee, and I hear thy voice. And to content my languishing desire, Each thing to ease my mind some help affords, I fancy while thy form, and then afire, In every found I apprehend thy words. Then with such thoughts my memory to wound, I call to mind thy looks, thy words, thy grace, Where thou didst haunt, yet I adore the ground, And where thou stepped, Oh sacred seems that place! My solitary walks, my widowd bed, My driery sighs, my sheets oft bathed with tears, These can record the life that I have led Since first sad news breathed death into mine ears. I live but with despair my sprite to dash, Thee first I loved, with thee all love I leave; For my chaste flames extinguished in thy ash Can kindle now no more but in thy graven. By night I wish for day; by day for night; Yet wish far more, that none of both might be; But most of all, that banishd from the light I were no more, their courses for to see. At night revolving my despaired estate, I go to sum with sighs my wonted joys, When in and agony, a grieved conceate Does blot unperfect count with new annoys. When Sleep the eldest brother of pale Death, The Child of darkness, and Father of rest, In a free prison hath confined my breath, That it may vent, but not with words expressed. Then with my sprite thou enterest for to speak With honeyed speeches to appease my grief, And my sad heart that laboured for to break, In this feigned comfort finds a while relief. Yea, it our souls remained united so, This late divorcement would not vex my mind, But when I waken, it augments my woe, While this a dream, and me a wretch I find. Oh happy, if I had been happy never, But happier, if my happiness had lasted: Yet had I in this state chanced to persever, My days had with excessive joys soon wasted. Why waste I thus, while vainly I lament, The precious treasure of that swift Post Time? Ah! pardon me, (deer Love) for I repent My lingering here, my Fate, and not my crime. Since first thy body did enrich the Tomb, In this spoiled world, my eye no pleasure sees, And Atis, Atis, lo, I come, I come To be thy Mate, amongst the Myrtle trees.