Who would imagine it possible that in a very few lines so many remote ideas could be brought together? Since 'tis my doom, Love's undershrieve, Why doth my she advowson fly To sell thyself dost thou intend And hold the contrast thus in doubt, Think but how soon the market fails, And if to measure age's span, The sober Julian were th' account of man, CLEIVELAND. Of enormous and disgusting hyperboles, these may be examples: By every wind that comes this way, Send me at least a sigh or two, Such and so many I'll repay As shall themselves make winds to get to you. COWLEY. His bloody eyes he hurls round, his sharp paws Beasts creep COWLEY. into their dens, and tremble there; COWLEY. THEIR fictions were often violent and unnatural. Of his Mistress bathing. The fish around her crowded, as they do And all with as much ease might taken be, As she at first took me ; For ne'er did light so clear Among the waves appear, Though every night the sun himself set there. COWLEY. The poetical effect of a lover's name upon glass: My name engrav'd herein Doth contribute my firmness to this glass; DONNE. THEIR conceits were sentiments slight and trifling. On an inconstant woman: He enjoys the calmy sunshine now, And trusts the faithless April of thy May. CoWLEY. Upon a paper written with the juice of lemon, and read by the fire: Nothing yet in thee is seen, But when a genial heat warms thee within, A new-born wood of various lines there grows: Here buds an L, and there a B, Here spouts a V, and there a T, And all the flourishing letters stand in rows. COWLEY. As they sought only for novelty, they did not much enquire whether their allusions were to things high or low, elegant or gross; whether they compared the little to the great, or the great to the little. Physick and Chirurgery for a Lover. Gently, ah gently, madam, touch COWLEY The World and a Clock. Mahol th' inferior world's fantastic face Thro' all the turns of matter's maze did trace; Made up the whole again of every part. COWLEY. A coal-pit has not often found its poet; but, that it may not want its due honour, Cleiveland has paralleled it with the Sun: The moderate value of our guiltless ore Makes no man atheist, and no woman whore ; Had he our pits, the Persian would admire The sun's heaven's coalery, and coals our sun. Death, a Voyage: No family E'er rigged a soul for Heaven's discovery, With whom more venturers might boldly dare DONNE. THEIR thoughts and expressions were sometimes grossly absurd, and such as no figures or licence can reconcile to the understanding. A Lover neither dead nor alive: Then down I laid my head Down on cold earth; and for a while was dead, When back to its cage again I saw it fly: 2 Fool to resume her broken chain, Fool, to that body to return Where it condemn'd and destin'd is to burn! Once dead, how can it be, Death should a thing so pleasant seem to thee, That thou should'st come to live it o'er again in me? COWLEY, A Lover's heart, a hand grenade: Wo to her stubborn heart, if once mine come "Twill tear and blow up all within, Like a grenado shot into a magazin. Then shall Love keep the ashes, and torn parts, Shall out of both one new one make: From her's th' allay, from mine the metal take. The poetical propagation of Light: The prince's favour is diffus'd o'er all, COWLEY, From which all fortunes, names, and natures fall: And sowes the court with stars, and doth prevent, First her eye kindles other ladies' eyes, Then from their beams their jewels' lustres rise: And from their jewels torches do take fire, DONNE. THEY were in very little care to clothe their notions with elegance of dress, and therefore miss the notice and the praise which are often gained by those who think less, but are more diligent to adorn their thoughts. That a Mistress beloved is fairer in idea than in reality, is by Cowley thus expressed: Thou in my fancy dost much higher stand, To change thee as thou'rt there, for very thee. That prayer and labour should co-operate, are thus taught by Donne: In none but us are such mix'd engines found, We till with them; and them to heaven we raise : By the same author, a common topick, the danger of procrastination, is thus illustrated: That which I should have begun In my youth's morning, now late must be done; And I, as giddy travellers must do, Which stray or sleep all day, and having lost Light and strength, dark and tir'd, must then ride post. All that man has to do is to live and die; the sum of humanity is comprehended by Donne in the following lines: Think in how poor a prison thou didst lie; Think, when 'twas grown to most, 'twas a poor inn, And that usurp'd, or threaten'd with a rage But think that death hath now enfranchis'd thee; Think, that a rusty piece discharg'd is flown And freely flies: this to thy soul allow, Think thy shell broke, think thy soul hatch'd but now. THEY were sometimes indelicate and disgusting. Cowley thus apostrophises beauty: Thou tyrant, which leav'st no man free! Thou subtle thief, from whom nought safe can be! Thou murderer, which hast kill'd; and devil, which would'st damn me! Thus he addresses his Mistress; Thou who, in many a propriety, So truly art the sun to me, Add one more likeness, which I'm sure you can, And let me and my sun beget a man. Thus he represents the meditations of a Lover: Though in thy thoughts scarce any tracts have been Such charms thy beauty wears, as might Desires in dying confest saints excite. |