Seven Minor Epics of the English Renaissance (1596-1624) — John Shaqi
Seven Minor Epics of the English Renaissance (1596-1624)Barksted, William, active 1611
General
Seven Minor Epics of the English Renaissance (1596-1624)
Barksted, William, active 1611
English poetry -- Early modern, 1500-1700; Epic poetry, English; Renaissance -- England
Enroll'd mens deeds, and gaue them fame to raise.
Then furious _Mars_ came next with sulphure eies,
Flashing forth fire as lightning from the skies;
Whose vncontrolled crest and battered shield
Greeke-wounding _Hector_ and _AEneas_ held.
Light-headed _Bacchus_ with a cup of golde
Brimfull of wine, next _Mars_ his place did holde;
The which quaft off, one reeling on before
Filled againe, and still supplied more.
Him followed sicknesse, by excesse, being lead,
With faint weake hands holding his pained head.
Thus was the roofe adorn'd: but for the bed,
The which those sacred limmes encanaped,
I could say much: yet poised with her selfe,
That gorgeous worke did seeme but drossy pelfe.
All-conquering Loue inspire my weaker Muse,
And with thy iocund smiles daigne to infuse
Heauen-prompted praises to my vntaught story,
That I may write her worth, and tell thy glory.
Vpon her backe she lay (o heauenly blisse!);
Smiling like _Ioue_, being couzend of a kisse;
The enuious pillow, which did beare her head,
Was with it selfe at warre, and mutined:
For if the midst receiu'd her chaste impression,
Then the two ends would swell at such a blessing;
And if she chanst to turne her head aside,
Gracing one end with natures only pride,
The rest for enuy straight would swell so much,
As it would leape asunder for a touch.
Her Sun-out-shining eyes were now at set,
Yet somewhat sparkling through their cabinet;
Her scorne white forehead was made vp by nature,
To be a patterne to succeeding creature
Of her admiring skill: her louely cheeke,
To Rose, nor Lyllie, will I euer leeke,
Whose wondrous beautie had that boy but prou'd,
Who died for loue, and yet not any lou'd,
Neuer had riuer beene adorned so,
To burie more then all the world could shew.
Her sweetest breath from out those sweeter lips,
Much like coole winde which from the valleys skips
In parching heat of Summer, stealeth forth,
Wandring amongst her haire; her wel formd mouth:
No art hath left vs such proportion,
To modell out so true perfection.
Her smoothe moist hands the sheets kept from his sight,
Lest by comparing, they should staine their white.
As thus she lay like _Venus_ in her pride,
(Tempting sweet _Adon_, lowring by her side)
_Philos_ approcht, who with this sight strooke dumbe
Came stealing on to see, and being come,
His greedie eye, which on the sudden meets
So many various and delicious sweets,
As rackt with pleasure (neuer hauing fill)
Would faine looke off, and yet would looke on still.
Thus do we surfet on our sudden ioyes,
And ranck-fed pleasure thus it selfe destroyes:
For when his eye doth light vpon her hand,
He then protests, that that is whitenesse land;
But when the whitenesse of her whiter brow
Doth steale his eye from thence, he sweareth now
Her brow is fellowlesse without all peere;
When being snatcht off vnto her fairer haire,
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