ject, best ordinances are interpreted innovations. Had I slept in the silence of my acquaintance, and effected no study beyond that which the chase or field allowes, poetry had then beene no scandall upon me, and the love of learning no suspition of ill husbandry. But what malice, begot in the country upon ignorance, or in the city upon criticisme, shall prepare against me, I am armed to endure. For as the face of vertue lookes faire without the adultery of art, so fame needes no ayde from rumour to strengthen her selfe. If these lines want that courtship, (I will not say flattery) which insinuates it selfe into the favour of great men, best; they partake of my modesty: If satyre to win applause with the envious multitude; they expresse my content, which maliceth none the fruition of that, they esteeme happie. And if not too indulgent to what is my owne; I thinke even these verses will have that proportion in the world's opinion, that Heaven hath allotted me in fortune; not so high, as to be wondred at, nor so low as to be contemned. COMMENDATORY VERSES. TO HIS BEST FRIEND AND KINSMAN I write not this in hope t' incroach on fame, GEORGE TALBOT. POEMS OF WILLIAM HABINGTON. CASTARA. THE FIRST PART. -Carmina non prius Audita, Musarum sacerdos virginibus. A MISTRIS Is the fairest treasure, the avarice of Love can covet; and the onely white, at which he shootes his arrowes, nor while his aime is noble, can he ever hit upon repentance. She is chaste, for the devill enters the idoll and gives the oracle, when wantonnesse possesseth beauty, and wit maintaines it lawfall. She is as faire as Nature intended her, helpt perhaps to a more pleasing grace by the sweetnesse of education, not by the slight of art. She is young, for a woman past the delicacie of her spring, may well move by vertue to respect, never by beauty to affection. Shee is innocent even from the knowledge of sinne, for vice is too strong to be wrastled with, and gives her frailty the foyle. She is not proude, though the amorous youth interpret her modestie to that sence; but in her vertue weares so much majestie, lust dares not rebell, nor though masqued, under the pretence of love, capitulate with her. She entertaines not every parley offer'd, although the articles pretended to her advantage: advice and her owne feares restraine her, and woman never owed ruine to too much caution. She glories not in the plurality of servants, a multitude of adorers Heaven can onely challeng; and it is impietie in her weakenesse to desire superstition from many. She is deafe to the whispers of love, and even on the marriage houre can breake off, without the least suspition of scandall, to the former liberty of her carriage. She avoydes a too neere conversation with man, and like the Parthian overcomes by flight. Her language is not copious but apposit, and she had rather suffer the reproach of being dull company, than have the title of witty, with that of bold and wanton. In her carriage she is sober, and thinkes her youth expresseth life enough, without the giddy motion, fashion of late hath taken up. She danceth to the best applause but doates not on the vanity of it, nor licenceth an irregular meeting to vaunt the levity of her skill. She sings, but not perpetually, for she knowes, silence in woman is the most perswading oratory. She never arrived to so much familiarity with man as to know the demunitive of his name, and call him by it; and she can show a competent favour: without yeelding her hand to his gripe. Shee never understood the language of a kisse, but at salutation, nor dares the courtier use so much of his practised impudence as to offer the rape of it from her: because chastity hath write it unlawfull, and her behaviour proclaimes it unwelcome. She is never sad, and yet not jiggish; her conscience is cleere from guilt, and that secures her from She is not passionately in love with poetry, because it softens the heart too much to love but she likes the harmony in the composition; and the brave examples of vertue celebrated by it, she proposeth to her imitation. She is not vaine in the history of her gay kindred or acquaintance: since vertue is often tenant to a cottage, and familiarity with greatnesse (if worth be not transcendant above the title) is but a glorious servitude, fooles onely are willing to suffer. She is not ambitious to be praised, and yet vallues death beneath infamy. And Ile conclude, (though the next sinod of ladies condemne this character as an heresie broacht by a precision) that onely she who sorrow. TO CASTARA, A VOW. By those chaste lamps which yeeld a silent light, Whose beauty is the shrine of chastity. Thus my bright Muse in a new orbe shall move, And even teach religion how to love. hath as great a share in vertue as in beauty, deserves a noble love to serve her, and a free poesie to speake her. TO CASTARA, A SACRIFICE. LET the chaste phoenix from the flowry East, [shine While I the priest, my untam'd heart, surprise, And in this temple mak't her sacrifice. TO CASTARA, PRAYING. I SAW Castara pray, and from the skie, Best subject of my pen, queene of my love. TO. ROSES IN THE BOSOME OF CASTARA. YEE blushing virgins happie are Then that which living gave you roome, TO CASTARA, OF HIS BEING IN LOVE. WHERE am I? not in Heaven: for oh I feele If then Castara I in Heaven nor move, TO MY HONOURED FRIEND, NOT still i'th' shine of kings. Thou dost retire It's azur'd like the skie: when she doth bow TO CASTARA. Dor not their prophane orgies heare, There shalt thou see the earely Spring, No North winde shall the corne infest, Our sent with perfum❜d banquets feast. TO CASTARA, SOFTLY SINGING TO HER SELFE. SING forth, sweete cherubin, (for we have choice And thus there will be left no bird to sing. TO A WANTON. In vaine, faire sorceresse, thy eyes speake charmes, ΤΟ THE HONOURABLE MY MUCH HONOURED WHILE you dare trust the loudest tongue of fame, While in the narrow limits of my state [thee. I bound my hopes, which if Castara daigne But should she scorne my sute, l'le tread that path TO CASTARA, INQUIRING WHY I LOVED HER. WHY doth the stubborne iron prove "Robert Brudenell, afterwards second earl of Cardigan, How know you that the orbs doe move; The dages, bast nimbly; and while as they wie, With musicke wo? since heard of none ? Each of them with their predecessors vie, And I will answer why I love. Which yecide most pleasure; you to them dispence, What Time lost with his cradle, innocence. 'Tis not thy vertues, each a starre So I (if fancie not delade my sight,). See often the pale monarch of the night, Diana, 'mong her nimphs. For every quire Of vulgar starres who lend their weaker fire Our vertues ofren meteors are. To conquer the night's chilnesse, with their queene, 'Tis not thy face, I cannot spie, In harmelesse revels tread the happy greene. When poets weepe sorne virgin's death, But I who am proscrib'd by tyrant Love, That Cupid wantons in her eye, Seeke out a silent exile in some grove, Or perfumes vapour from her breath, Where Dought except a solitary spring, And ’mongst the dead thou once must lie. Was ever beard, to which the Nimphs did sing Narcissus' obsequies: For onely there Nor is't thy birth. For I was ne're Is musique apt to catch an am'rous eare: So vaine as in that to delight: Castara! oh my heart! how great a flame Which, ballance it, no weight doth beare, Did even shoot into me with her name? Nor yet is object to the sight, Castara hath betray'd me to a żeale But onely fils the vulgar eare. Which thus distracts my hopes. Flints may conceale Nor yet thy fortunes: since I know In their cold veynes a fire. But I whose heart They, in their motion like the sea, By love's dissolv’d, ne're practis'd that cold art. Ebbe from the good, to the impious flow : But truce thou warring passion, for I'le now And so in flattery betray, Maddam to you addresse this solemne vow. That raising they but overthrow. Ry vertue and your selfe (best friends) I finde la the interiour province of your minde And yet these attributes might prove Such government: that if great men obey Puell enough t'enflame desire; Th' example of your order, they will sway But there was something from above, Without reproofe; for onely you unitė Shot without reason's guide, this fire. Honour with sweetenesse, vertue with delights I know, yet know not, why I love. VPON CASTARA'S PROWNE OR SMILE. LEARNED shade of Tycho Brache, who to us, I'th'eye, or brest or any part, The stars propheticke language didst impart, So thou, Castara, spare my heart. And even in life their mysteries discusse: Castara hath o'rethrowne thy strongest art. The cold Cymerian by that bright When custome struggles from her beaten path, Warme wound i'th' darknesse of his night, Then accidents must needs uncertaine be, Might both recover heat, and light. For if Castara smile; though winter hath The rugged Scythian gently move, Lock't up the rivers: summer's warme in me. I'th' whispering shadow of some grove, And Flora by the miracle reviv'd, That's consecrate to sportive love. Doth even at her owne beauty wondring stand, December see the primrose grow, But should she frowne, the northerne wind arrird, The rivers in soft murmurs flow, In midst of summer, leads his frozen band : And from his head shake off his snow. Which doth to yce my youthfull blood congeale; Yet in the midst of yce, still dames my zeale. And crooked age might feele againe Those heates, of which youth did complaine, While fresh blood swels each withered veyne. For the bright lustre of thy eyes, IN CASTARA, Which but to warme them would suffice, ALL FORTUNES. Ye glorious wits, who finde than Parian stone, Purchast 'gainst conquer'd time, go court loud He wins it, who but sings Castara's name? (fame, THE COUNTESSE OF AR! Aspiring soules, who grow but in a spring, Forc't by the warmth of some indalgent king: Wisa'd with delight, (yet such as still doth beare Know if Castara smile: I dwell in it, Chast vertue's stamp) those children of the yeere, And vie for glory with the favourit. Ye sonues of avarice, who but to share • Margaret daughter of William Douglas, earlvncertaine treasure with a certaine care, of Morton, wife of Archibald, eighth earl of Teinpt death in th' horrid ocean: I, when ere Argyle. I but approach her, and the Indies there. |