The Harmony of the muses, or, The gentlemans and ladies choisest recreation full of various, pure and transcendent wit : containing severall excellent poems, some fancies of love, some of disdain, and all the subjects incident to the passionate affections either of men or women
R. C., Donne, John, 1572-1631., King, Henry, 1592-1669., Strode, William, 1600 or 1601-1645.
To his Lady.
SO may my Verses pleasing be,
So may you laugh at them; and not at me,
'Tis something to you I would gladly say,
But how to do it, cannot find the way;
I would avoid the common trodden wayes,
To Ladies us'd, which be of Love or praise,
As for the first, that little wit I have,
Is not yet grown so neer unto the •rave,
But that I can by that dim fading light,
Perceive of what, and unto whom I write,
Let such as in a hopeless, witless rage,
Can sigh a Quire, and read it to a Page;
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Such as can make ten Sonnets ere they rest,
When each is but a great blot at the best,
Such as can backs of books and windows fill,
With their too furious Diamond or Quill,
Such as are well resolved to end their dayes,
With a lowd laughter blown beyond the Seas;
Such as are mortified, that they can live,
Laught at by all the world, and yet forgive:
Wright love to you I would not willingly,
Be pointed at in every company,
As was the little Taylor, who till death,
Was great in love with Queen Elizabeth;
And for the last in all my idle dayes,
• never yet did living woman praise,
•n Verse or Prose, And when I do begin,
•le pick some woman out as full of sin,
•s you are full of Vertue, with a soul,
•s black as yours is white, a face as foul
•s yours is beautifull; for it shall be
•ut of the Rules of Phisiognomie;
•o far, that I do fear I must displace
•he Art a little, to let in the face;
• shall at least four faces be below
•he Devils; and her parched corps shall show,
•n her loose skin, as if some spirit she were,
K•pt in a bag by some great Conjurer;
Her breath shall be so horrible and vild,
As every word you speak is meet and mild,
It shall be such a one as will not be,
Covered with any Art or Policie,
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But let her take all waters, fumes, and drink,
She shall make nothing but a dearer stink,
She shall have such a foot, and such a nose,
As will not stand in any thing but Prose;
If I bestow my praises upon such,
'Tis Charity, and I shall merit much;
My praise will come to her like a full bowl,
Bestowed at most need on a thirsty soul;
Where if I sing your praises in my Rime,
I loose my Ink, my paper, and my ti••,
Adde nothing to your overflowing store,
And tel you nought but what you knew before
Nor do the vertuous minded (which I swear
Madam I think you are) endure to hear
Their own perfections into question brought,
But stop their ears at them, for if I thought,
You took a pride to have your vertues known,
Pardon me Madam, I should think them none▪
But if you brave thoghts (which I must respect
Above your glorious Titles) shall accept
These harsh disordered Lines, I shall ere long,
Dress up your vertues new in a new Song,
Yet farre from all base praise or flattery,
Although I know what ere my Verses be,
They will like the most servile flattery shew,
If I write truth, and make my subject you.
