The poets vvillow: or, The passionate shepheard with sundry delightfull, and no lesse passionate sonnets: describing the passions of a discontented and perplexed louer. Diuers compositions of verses concording as well with the lyricke, as the Anacreonticke measures; neuer before published ...

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Title
The poets vvillow: or, The passionate shepheard with sundry delightfull, and no lesse passionate sonnets: describing the passions of a discontented and perplexed louer. Diuers compositions of verses concording as well with the lyricke, as the Anacreonticke measures; neuer before published ...
Author
Brathwaite, Richard, 1588?-1673.
Publication
Imprinted at London :: By Iohn Beale, for Samuel Rand, and are to be sold at his shop at Holborne bridge,
1614.
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"The poets vvillow: or, The passionate shepheard with sundry delightfull, and no lesse passionate sonnets: describing the passions of a discontented and perplexed louer. Diuers compositions of verses concording as well with the lyricke, as the Anacreonticke measures; neuer before published ..." In the digital collection Early English Books Online Collections. https://name.umdl.umich.edu/a16671.0001.001. University of Michigan Library Digital Collections. Accessed June 15, 2024.

Pages

In laudem Dorindae: per Antiphrasen.

She is the mirror and the type of fame, If that a blemish did not daze her light, But that one blot doth much empaire the same, And hath obscur'd the splendor of her sight: The scope she aimes at is not aimd aright, If that one soile did not ecclips the rest, She might be well reputed, worldes best.
—Te Roma aligine caecam efficit insequitur fugientem Roma Dorindam. vid. Mant & Luc. in Fragment.
O what content haue I conceau'd in thee My sweete Dorinda? what a sugred smile, A lippe of comfort relish'd pleasantly, An eie that would the prudent'st thoughts beguile? O with what character, or in what stile Shall I describe thy feature glorious Saint, Made of the most refined element?
Thē iudge what wound it was surpris'd mine hart. When thou proscribd me from thy cherefull court,

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And with contracted brow bad me depart, From that repose where comforts make resort: The birds themselues that heard can make report: For manie time since I tooke leaue of thee, The birds themselues sung dirges ouer me.
Recall to minde the time, the place, the words, For I haue cause for to remember them, And then conceaue what sorrow they afford, What cause I haue for to surrender them Into thy hands, that first did tender them, O be not so hard-hearted, well I wot, Thou canst not answer that thou knowest thē not.
O that so weake defectiue elements, Vessels of frailtie should insult ore strength, That gould should be prest downe by excrements, Or womans power extended to that length, That men (as clergie men) haue but the tenth Of their affections in you, and receiue Lesse comfort in your bed, then in your graue.
O what vnhappie planet did attend, The first arriuall of mine haplesse foote, Or what discomforts did the furies send To make me runne a course so farre about, With no more thanks then if I ran it not? O fruitlesse labour, for what labour lighter Thē wash the Aethyope that is nere made whiter?

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Much haue I read of beautie, more of guile, Which like a snake lies in the tender grasse, The baine whereof her glorie doth defile, And lies interd, as that, which neuer was, Or like a gliding streame whose course doth passe, And passing, cuts both hill and flowrie plaine, Scorning by nature to returne againe.
But thou condemn'st me for some carelesse words, In that I was respectlesse of thy loue: O doe not forge vnkindenesse, that affords More sorrow to my heart, then heauens aboue, Or fatall Eris in her stigian groue, What I haue spoke I pray thee speake no more, And Ile re••••nt what I haue said before.
Inioyne me penance, I will vndertake, Alcydes labours to obtaine your loue, Climing the Alps for my beloued sake, So you distrust from your hard▪heart remoue, And of my faith inuiolate approue: For be assur'd I nere my loue did shew To your estate, but loue I bore to you,
But why runne I astray so farre remote From that celestiall scope I aimed at: I loue my loue, and yet she knoweth not, Or will not know my minds perplex'd estate, Those great distractions I conceiu'd of late,

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She will not loue, she cannot like a swaine, Who once repuls'd can make no sute againe,
VVell then surcease, and let this dolefull Ode Abridge the web of thy extracted griefe, Take vp thy shepheards crooke, make no abode, This barraine pasture yeelds thee no reliefe, But riuolets of teres whereof it's chiefe: Then bid farewell to this disaster groue, To Cupids arrowes, and the queene of loue.
Lumine qui semper proditur ipse suo.
Yet when I talke of Cupid and his bow. The queene of loue that from mount Ida came, Some more affecting passions I must show, And paraphrase vpon Dorindas name: Where though I blush, for I am full of shame, Yet in my blush, I seeme to represent, The beautie of my loues faire continent.
And when I looke me in the dismall glasse, Where face redarts a face, me thinks I see, The splendor of Dorindas comely face, Where with her smile she doth encounter me, And driues my sences to that extasie: That I in Lethe droun'd, as all forgotten, Lets the glasse fall, and so my glasse is broken.

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Then am I eas'd, depriu'd of that I lou'd, Opprest with sleepe yet cannot sleepe at all, Till the remainders of my glasse remou'd, VVhich were disperst by their vntimely fall. For they (an ecco like) doe seeme to call And rouse me from my rest, surpris'd which care, And rest of rest, declining to despaire.
It may be (my Dorinda) if you wed, Some splay-foot'd Vulcan you must make recourse, Too too vnwilling, to a loathed bed, Whereas distastefull pleasure hath no force. But mixt with sorrow and with deepe remore: Heare me (Dorinda) these few hymns shall tell That though you loath me, yet I wish you well.
Diue to the verie bottome of your heart, And see the idiome of your louer there, An indigested lumpe compos'd of art, Where natures gifts did neuer yet appeare, Where folly first her banner seem'd to reare, An harsh distempred humour shown in him, A Brillus wit, and a Thersytes limme.
But hee's religious: he can dirges say, And has our ladies psalter all by heart: He is modest, rich, and will each morning pray, As if he had his prayers composd by art, What you sustaine he euer beares a part:

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Nay more, to purchase your respectiue fauour, Hee'l take himselfe to any cotqueanes labour.
Indeede Alcydes for his Omphale, Past many perils much degenerate From former glorie, pristine dignitie, Which euer made attendance on his state, Too much obscur'd by infamie of hate, For he to win a queene did then begin, To tease his wooll, to card and eke to spinne,
—Et qui reges vicit, grandes labores egit. victus amore cecidit: Qui clauum, lanam exercet: ibid: Nec nouit mentem comprimere, qui tanta fecit. vid Senec.
Each morne would he his taske imposed haue, Which in a womans habit he perform'd, And all to purchase her whom he did craue, With curious roabes & precious gemmes adorn'd, With whom in this disguise he long soiorn'd, Till his long absence had his ruine wrought, By Nessus blood, long time by Nessus sought.

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—Nessus hos struxit dolos: cruore tincta est pallia semiferi (pater) Nessusque nunc has exigit paenas sibi. —Et Oetaeum Nemus suscipiat, ignis, Herculem accipiat rogus. Senec: in Oetae: Hercul.
Beleeue me (faire Dorinda) if that loue Consist in orisons, I must confesse, Reason you haue your fancie to remoue, Since heauens forgiue, frequent I nothing lesse, Nor can I loue by solemne praiers expresse. Hymns, pastorals, and pleasant laies beseeme, Rather then orisons so faire a Queene.
If Hero had Leanders forme affected, For rites or ceremonies consecrate Vnto the powers aboue: she had respected The Temple more to Iuno dedicate, And had distempred lust in greater hate, But she deuoted was vnto his shrine, For carnall pleasures, not for hests diuine.
What comfort can a beauteous maide conceaue In contemplation, since the practike part Better accords with her, and she doth craue A soueraigne salue to cure her wounded heart, Which cannot be perform'd by men of art, For learned Sophisters may reason well, But what will please your sexe they cannot tell.

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Thus therefore praise I, and yet discommend, This harsh, yet sober kinde of speculation, That frames her engine to a fruitlesse end, About heauens motion and Sphaeres eleuation, Yet cannot make her vse of recreation: VVherefore it's fruitlesse, and a barraine seede That loues to grow alone, and hates to breede.
Renoumed ladie, least I wrong your eares VVith the distastfull temper of my pen, My muse her selfe from further course forbeares, To shadow out your vertues to such men, As liue obscured in obliuions den. This therefore I haue writ to blase your name, And not through hate for to ecclips the same.
Sooner shall Phaebus leaue his iuorie carre, And giue his regiment to Phaeton: Sooner shall Mars that powerfull god of warre Retire in peace, and loue to lie alone: Sooner shall Sysiphus to rowle his stone Surcease, then I surcease to empall your daies VVith poets wreaths, the laurell and the baies.
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