DEATH, who'ld not change prerogatives with thee, That dost such rapes, yet may'st not question'd be? Here cease thy wanton lust, be satisfied: Hope not a second and so fair a bride. Where was her Mars, whose valiant arms did hold This Venus once, that thou durst be so bold By thy too nimble theft? I know 'twas fear, Lest he should come that would have rescu'd her. Monster, confess, didst thou not blushing stand, And thy pale cheek turn red to touch her hand? Did she not lightning-like strike sudden heat Through thy cold limbs, and thaw thy frost to sweat. Well, since thou hast her, use her gently, Death, And in requital of such precious breath, Watch sentinel to guard her; do not see The worms thy rivals, for the gods will be. Remember Paris, for whose pettier sin The Trojan gates let the stout Grecians in. So, when time ceases (whose unthrifty hand Has now almost consum'd his stock of sand), Myriads of angels shall in armies come, And fetch (proud ravisher) their Helen home. And to revenge this rape, thy other store Thou shalt resign too, and shalt steal no more. Till then, fair ladies (for you now are fair, But till her death I fear'd your just despair), Fetch all the spices that Arabia yields, Distil the choicest flowers of the fields? And when in one their best perfections meet, Embalm her corse, that she may make them sweet, Whilst for an epitaph upon her stone I cannot write, but I must weep her one. @3Epitaph@1. Beauty itself lies here, in whom alone Each part enjoy'd the same perfection. In some the eyes we praise, in some the hair: In her the lips, in her the cheeks are fair: That nymph's fine feet, her hands we beauteous call: But in this form we praise no part, but all. The ages past have many beauties shown, And I more plenty in our time have known. But in the age to come I look for none; Nature despairs, because her pattern's gone. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...PRAYERS OF STEEL by CARL SANDBURG PLAYING IT SAFE by FRANKLIN PIERCE ADAMS ODES: BOOK 1: ODE 9. TO CURIO by MARK AKENSIDE WRITTEN IN IRELAND by MARY (CUMBERLAND) ALCOCK THE TRUANTS by RICHARD HARRIS BARHAM CLOUDS by EDUARD VON BAUERNFELD |