| |
| NOT to know vice at all, and keep true state, | |
| Is virtue, and not fate: | |
| Next to that virtue is to know vice well, | |
| And her black spite expel, | |
| Which to effect (since no breast is so sure, | 5 |
| Or safe, but she’ll procure | |
| Some way of entrance) we must plant a guard | |
| Of thoughts to watch and ward | |
| At th’eye and ear, the ports unto the mind, | |
| That no strange or unkind | 10 |
| Object arrive there, but the heart, our spy, | |
| Give knowledge instantly | |
| To wakeful reason, our affections’ king: | |
| Who, in th’ examining, | |
| Will quickly taste the treason, and commit | 15 |
| Close, the close cause of it. | |
| ’Tis the securest policy we have, | |
| To make our sense our slave. | |
| But this true course is not embraced by many: | |
| By many? scarce by any. | 20 |
| For either our affections do rebel, | |
| Or else the sentinel, | |
| That should ring larum to the heart, doth sleep: | |
| Or some great thought doth keep | |
| Back the intelligence, and falsely swears | 25 |
| They’re base and idle fears | |
| Whereof the loyal conscience so complains. | |
| Thus, by these subtle trains, | |
| Do several passions invade the mind, | |
| And strike our reason blind: | 30 |
| Of which usurping rank, some have thought love. | |
| The first, as prone to move | |
| Most frequent tumults, horrors, and unrests, | |
| In our inflamèd breasts: | |
| But this doth from the cloud of error grow, | 35 |
| Which thus we over-blow. | |
| The thing they here call Love is blind Desire, | |
| Armed with bow, shafts, and fire; | |
| Inconstant, like the sea, of whence ’t is born, | |
| Rough, swelling, like a storm; | 40 |
| With whom who sails, rides on the surge of fear, | |
| And boils as if he were | |
| In a continual tempest. Now, true Love | |
| No such effects doth prove; | |
| That is an essence far more gentle, fine, | 45 |
| Pure, perfect, nay, divine; | |
| It is a golden chain let down from heaven, | |
| Whose links are bright and even, | |
| That falls like sleep on lovers, and combines | |
| The soft and sweetest minds | 50 |
| In equal knots: this bears no brands nor darts, | |
| To murther different hearts, | |
| But in a calm and godlike unity | |
| Preserves community. | |
| O, who is he that in this peace enjoys | 55 |
| Th’ elixir of all joys? | |
| A form more fresh than are the Eden bowers, | |
| And lasting as her flowers: | |
| Richer than Time, and as Time’s virtue rare: | |
| Sober, as saddest care; | 60 |
| A fixèd thought, an eye untaught to glance: | |
| Who, blest with such high chance, | |
| Would, at suggestion of a steep desire, | |
| Cast himself from the spire | |
| Of all his happiness? But, soft, I hear | 65 |
| Some vicious fool draw near, | |
| That cries we dream, and swears there’s no such thing | |
| As this chaste love we sing. | |
| Peace, Luxury, thou art like one of those | |
| Who, being at sea, suppose, | 70 |
| Because they move, the continent doth so. | |
| No, Vice, we let thee know, | |
| Though thy wild thoughts with sparrows’ wings do fly, | |
| Turtles can chastely die. | |
| And yet (in this t’ express ourselves more clear) | 75 |
| We do not number here | |
| Such spirits as are only continent | |
| Because lust’s means are spent; | |
| Or those who doubt the common mouth of fame, | |
| And for their place and name | 80 |
| Cannot so safely sin. Their chastity | |
| Is mere necessity. | |
| Nor mean we those whom vows and conscience | |
| Have filled with abstinence: | |
| Though we acknowledge, who can so abstain | 85 |
| Makes a most blessèd gain; | |
| He that for love of goodness hateth ill | |
| Is more crown-worthy still | |
| Than he, which for sin’s penalty forbears: | |
| His heart sins, though he fears. | 90 |
| But we propose a person like our Dove, | |
| Grac’d with a Phœnix’ love; | |
| A beauty of that clear and sparkling light, | |
| Would make a day of night, | |
| And turn the blackest sorrows to bright joys: | 95 |
| Whose od’rous breath destroys | |
| All taste of bitterness, and makes the air | |
| As sweet as she is fair. | |
| A body so harmoniously composed, | |
| As if nature disclosed | 100 |
| All her best symmetry in that one feature! | |
| O, so divine a creature, | |
| Who could be false to? chiefly when he knows | |
| How only she bestows | |
| The wealthy treasure of her love on him; | 105 |
| Making his fortunes swim | |
| In the full flood of her admired perfection? | |
| What savage, brute affection | |
| Would not be fearful to offend a dame | |
| Of this excelling frame? | 110 |
| Much more a noble and right generous mind | |
| To virtuous moods inclined, | |
| That knows the weight of guilt: he will refrain | |
| From thoughts of such a strain; | |
| And to his sense object this sentence ever, | 115 |
| ‘Man may securely sin, but safely never.’ | |
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