Thomas Stanley: His Original Lyrics, Complete, In Their Collated Readings of 1647, 1651, 1657.: With an Introduction, Textual Notes, a List of Editions, an Appendix of Translations, and a Portrait.Stanley, Thomas
General
Thomas Stanley: His Original Lyrics, Complete, In Their Collated Readings of 1647, 1651, 1657.: With an Introduction, Textual Notes, a List of Editions, an Appendix of Translations, and a Portrait.
Stanley, Thomas
English poetry -- Early modern, 1500-1700; Stanley, Thomas, 1625-1678
Or those soft fetters of thy hair,
(A bondage that disdains
All liberty,) do guard thine ear 15
Free from all other chains.
Then my complaint how canst thou hear,
Or I this passion fly,
Since thou imprison'd hast thine ear,
And not confin'd thine eye? 20
THE TOMB.
When, cruel fair one, I am slain
By thy disdain,
And as a trophy of thy scorn
To some old tomb am borne,
Thy fetters must their power bequeath 5
To those of Death;
Nor can thy flame immortal burn
Like monumental fires within an urn.
Thus freed from thy proud empire, I shall prove
There is more liberty in Death than Love. 10
And when forsaken lovers come
To see my tomb,
Take heed thou mix not with the crowd,
And, as a victor, proud
To view the spoils thy beauty made, 15
Press near my shade!
Lest thy too cruel breath, or name,
Should fan my ashes back into a flame.
And thou, devour'd by this revengeful fire, }[39:1]
His sacrifice, who died as thine, expire. } 20
Or should my dust thy pity move
That could not, love,
Thy sighs might wake me, and thy tears
Renew my life and years;
Or should thy proud insulting scorn 25
Laugh at my urn,
Kindly deceiv'd by thy disdain,
I might be smil'd into new life again.
Then come not near: since both thy love and hate
Have equal power to kill[39:2] or animate. 30
But if cold earth or marble must
Conceal my dust,
Whilst, hid in some dark ruins, I
Dumb and forgotten lie,
The pride of all thy victory 35
Will sleep with me;
And they who should attest thy glory
Will or forget, or not believe this story.
Then, to increase thy triumph, let me rest,
(Since by thine eye slain,) buried in thy breast! 40
TO CELIA.
PLEADING WANT OF MERIT.[40:1]
Dear, urge no more the killing cause
Of our divorce:
Love is not fetter'd by such laws,
Nor bows to any force.
Though thou deniest I should be thine, 5
Yet say not thou deserv'st not to be mine!
Oh, rather frown away my breath
With thy disdain,
Or flatter me with smiles to death;
By joy or sorrow slain, 10
'Tis less crime to be kill'd by thee,
Than I thus cause of mine[40:2] own death should be.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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