William Cartwright.

1611-1643

339   To Chloe

Who for his sake wished herself younger

THERE are two births; the one when light
   First strikes the new awaken’d sense;
The other when two souls unite,
   And we must count our life from thence:
When you loved me and I loved you
Then both of us were born anew.

Love then to us new souls did give
   And in those souls did plant new powers;
Since when another life we live,
   The breath we breathe is his, not ours:
Love makes those young whom age doth chill,
And whom he finds young keeps young still.

340   Falsehood

STILL do the stars impart their light
To those that travel in the night;
Still time runs on, nor doth the hand
Or shadow on the dial stand;
The streams still glide and constant are:
        Only thy mind
        Untrue I find,
        Which carelessly
        Neglects to be
Like stream or shadow, hand or star.

Fool that I am! I do recall
My words, and swear thou’rt like them all,
Thou seem’st like stars to nourish fire,
But O how cold is thy desire!
And like the hand upon the brass
        Thou point’st at me
        In mockery;
        If I come nigh
        Shade-like thou’lt fly,
And as the stream with murmur pass.

341   On the Queen’s Return from the Low
                                                       Countries

HALLOW the threshold, crown the posts anew!
    The day shall have its due.
Twist all our victories into one bright wreath,
    On which let honour breathe;
Then throw it round the temples of our Queen!
’Tis she that must preserve those glories green.

When greater tempests than on sea before
    Received her on the shore;
When she was shot at ‘for the King’s own good’
  By legions hired to blood;
How bravely did she do, how bravely bear!
And show’d, though they durst rage, she durst not fear.

Courage was cast about her like a dress
    Of solemn comeliness:
A gather’d mind and an untroubled face
    Did give her dangers grace:
Thus, arm’d with innocence, secure they move
Whose highest ‘treason’ is but highest love.

342   On a Virtuous Young Gentlewoman
                                        that died suddenly

SHE who to Heaven more Heaven doth annex,
Whose lowest thought was above all our sex,
Accounted nothing death but t’ be reprieved,
And died as free from sickness as she lived.
Others are dragg’d away, or must be driven,
She only saw her time and stept to Heaven;
Where seraphims view all her glories o’er,
As one return’d that had been there before.
For while she did this lower world adorn,
Her body seem’d rather assumed than born;
So rarified, advanced, so pure and whole,
That body might have been another’s soul;
And equally a miracle it were
That she could die, or that she could live here.