Castara: The Third Edition of 1640; Edited and Collated with the Earlier Ones of 1634, 1635 — John Shaqi
Castara: The Third Edition of 1640; Edited and Collated with the Earlier Ones of 1634, 1635Habington, William
General
Castara: The Third Edition of 1640; Edited and Collated with the Earlier Ones of 1634, 1635
Habington, William
English poetry -- Early modern, 1500-1700; Love poetry, English
Scorn'd in thy watry Urne _Narcissus_ lye, 40
40. Banisht from you, I charg'd the nimble winde, 40
41. Blest Temple, haile, where the Chast Altar stands, 41
42. Bright Dew which dost the field adorne 41
43. Stay under the kinde shadow of this tree 42
44. Dare not too farre _Castara_, for the shade 43
45. Vowes are vaine. No suppliant breath 43
46. Night. Let silence close my troubled eyes, 44
47. Your judgement's cleere, not wrinckled with the Time, 45
48. What should we feare _Castara_? The coole aire, 46
49. More welcome my _Castara_, then was light 46
50. Why dost thou looke so pale, decrepit man? 52
51. T'was Night: when _Phœbe_ guided by thy rayes, 52
52. Why would you blush _Castara_, when the name 53
53. Like the Violet which alone 53
_CASTARA._ THE SECOND PART.
iv. THIRTY-SIX more Poems.
54. This day is ours. The marriage Angell now 59
55. Did you not see, _Castara_, when the King 59
56. Whose whispers soft as those which lovers breath 60
57. Forsake me not so soone. _Castara_ stay, 61
58. Hence prophane grim man, nor dare 61
59. Sleepe my _Castara_, silence doth invite 62
60. She is restor'd to life. Unthrifty Death, 62
61. May you drinke beare, or that adult'rate wine 63
62. _Castara_ whisper in some dead mans eare, 64
63. Forsake with me the earth, my faire, 64
64. _Castara_ weepe not, though her tombe appeare 65
65. What's death more than departure; the dead go 67
66. _Castara!_ O you are too prodigall 67
67. I heard a sigh, and something in my eare 68
68. You saw our loves, and prais'd the mutuall flame 68
69. Why should we build, _Castara_, in the aire 69
70. _Castara_, see that dust, the sportive wind 70
71. Were but that sigh a penitentiall breath 70
72. ARAPHILL. _Castara_ you too fondly court 71
73. My thoughts are not so rugged, nor doth earth 72
74. Tyrant o're tyrants, thou who onely dost 73
75. The breath of time shall blast the flowry Spring, 73
76. The reverend man by magicke of his prayer 74
77. Thy vowes are heard, and thy _Castara's_ name 75
78. Thou dreame of madmen, ever changing gale, 75
79.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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