|
Elegia .1.a| |
Not yt in color it was like thy haire [f. 12] |
For armelets of that thou maist let me weare; |
Nor yt thy hand it ofte embrac'd & kist, |
For so it had that good, wch ofte I mist, |
Nor for yt sely old moralitee |
That as those Lincks are tyed or loue should bee |
Mourne I: yt I thy seuenfold chayne haue lost |
Nor for ye lucks sake but the bitter cost. |
Oh shall twelve righteous Angels wch as yet |
No leauen of vile sodder did admitt; |
Nor yet by any taint haue stray'd or gone |
From the first State of the Creation; |
Angels wch heauen com̀„anded to prouide |
All things to me, and be my faythfull guide |
To gayne new frinds, to'appease great enemyes |
To comfort my Soule when I ly or rise; |
Shall these twelue innocents, by thy seuere |
Sentence, dradd Iudge, my sins great burden beare? |
Shall they be damn'd and in ye furnace throwne |
And punisht for offenses, not their owne. |
They saue not me, they do not ease my paynes |
When in yt hell they'are burn'd and tyed in chaynes. |
Weare they but crownes of France, I cared not |
for most of them their naturall cuntry rott |
I thinke possesseth, they come here to vs |
So leane, so pale, so lame, so ruinous, |
And howsoere french kings most Christian bee |
Their crownes are circumcis'd most Iewishly. |
Or weare they Spanish Stampes, still trauailing |
That are become as Catholique as their king |
Those vnlick'd beare-whelps, vnfil'd pistolets, |
That more then Canon shotts auayles or letts, |
Wch negligently lefte vnrounded looke |
Like many angled figures in ye booke |