Seven Minor Epics of the English Renaissance (1596-1624)Barksted, William, active 1611
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Seven Minor Epics of the English Renaissance (1596-1624)
Barksted, William, active 1611
English poetry -- Early modern, 1500-1700; Epic poetry, English; Renaissance -- England
And proud of such a prise, they doe infer
With their embassage vnto _Jupiter_,
And there presented it: who, as 'twas right,
Did make the windes returne't with swiftest flight,
Vnto the place where _Amos_ stood amazed
At that which hapt, who like a mad-man gazed,
Wondring what she by this illusion meant,
When to allure him was her whole intent:
But led in admiration most of all,
At the rich Scarfe which from the Maide did fall.
He viewes the worke, where finding of _Apollo_
Chasing a Nymph, who swifter then a Swallow
Flyeth his armes, for feare did lend her wings
To flye from him which after her soone flings.
Himselfe a foole he cals, that wanting skill,
Being allur'd, he had not knowne her will.
Doubtfull, he feares offence committed to her,
That he so rashly, gain'st her will, durst wooe her.
To cleare himselfe of which offence he flyes,
Resolu'd to winne the Maide, or lose the prize,
With prosperous hast. Oh may thy hast well speed,
Whose wondrous loue did vertuously proceed:
Not from the flames of filthy lusts desire,
As was that Rome-borne _Tarquins_ lustfull fire:
But as vnspotlesse from that filthy thought,
From that most hell-deseruing thing of nought,
As euer heart lodg'd in a loyall brest,
Or tongue, vntaught to lye, euer exprest.
But why doe I digresse the path I tread,
Cloying your eares with that your eyes doe read?
Pardon my boldnesse, and giue eare a while
To that, of him, which my inferiour stile
Shall now expresse: though't not with honor stands,
He thinkes one paire of legs worth twice two hands.
The arrow swift sent from the sturdy bow,
May be accounted (to his flight) but slow:
At last he gain'd the Court, to vvhich being come,
It shew'd like to the Pallace of the Sunne
Describ'd in _Ouid_: for in length and fairenesse,
None might surpasse the workmanship and rarenes.
Through which his way lies, & he needs must passe,
The pauement Marble vvas, the vvals of Glasse:
VVhereunder vvas so liuely caru'd the Story
Of great _Joues_ loue, his vvondrous vvorks, & glory,
VVith many others loue: vvhich to rehearse
VVould adde a mighty volume to my Verse,
Besides mine owne weake vvit: for I doe know it,
He vvas a better workeman, then I Poet.
Yet could not this abate the Louers pace:
For he still holds the louely Maide in chase.
Passing the Court, he comes into a greene,
VVhich vvas in middest of the Pallace seene:
Thorough the midst there ranne a pleasant Spring,
On each side with a vvall of Bricke hemm'd in,
Onely in midst, a Stile; beyond, a Plancke,
VVhich for a Bridge did serue to eyther bancke.
Ouer this Stile as _Laura_ lightly skips,
In her rent garment happily it slips,
And held her there a while till hee came to her,
VVhere once againe the Nouice gins to wwoe her.
Flye not thy friend, our Maker vvilleth so,
Things reasonlesse approue and vvish it so,
If vvithout sense and reason all things then
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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