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Best Famous Censured Poems

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Epistle to Katherine, Lady Aubigny

XIII. — EPISTLE TO KATHARINE LADY AUBIGNY.

As what they have lost t' expect, they dare deride. So both the prais'd and praisers suffer ; yet, For others ill ought none their good forget. I therefore, who profess myself in love With every virtue, wheresoe'er it move, And howsoever ; as I am at feudBy arts, and practice of the vicious, Such as suspect themselves, and think it fit, For their own capital crimes, to indict my wit ; I that have suffer'd this ; and though forsook Of fortune, have not alter'd yet my look, Or so myself abandon'd, as because Men are not just, or keep no holy laws Of nature and society, I should faint ;If it may stand with your soft blush, to hear Yourself but told unto yourself, and see In my character what your features be, You will not from the paper slightly pass : No lady, but at some time loves her glass. And this shall be no false one, but as much Remov'd, as you from need to have it such. Look then, and see your self — I will not sayIt perfect, proper, pure, and natural, Not taken up o' the doctors, but as well As I, can say and see it doth excel ; That asks but to be censured by the eyes : And in those outward forms, all fools are wise. Nor that your beauty wanted not a dower, Do I reflect. Some alderman has power, Or cozening farmer of the customs, soAnd raise not virtue ; they may vice enhance. My mirror is more subtle, clear, refined, And.takes and gives the beauties of the mind ; Though it reject not those of fortune : such As blood, and match. Wherein, how more than much Are you engaged to your happy fate, For such a lot ! that mixt you with a state Of so great title, birth, but virtue most,For he that once is good, is ever great. Wherewith then, madam, can you better pay This blessing of your stars, than by that way Of virtue, which you tread ? What if alone, Without companions ? 'tis safe to have none. In single paths dangers with ease are watch'd ; Contagion in the press is soonest catch'd. This makes, that wisely you decline your lifeNot looking by, or back, like those that wait Times and occasions, to start forth, and seem. Which though the turning world may disesteem, Because that studies spectacles and shows, And after varied, as fresh objects, goes, Giddy with change, and therefore cannot see Right, the right way ; yet must your comfort be Your conscience, and not wonder if none asksMaintain their liegers forth for foreign wires, Melt down their husbands land, to pour away On the close groom and page, on new-year's day, And almost all days after, while they live ; They find it both so witty, and safe to give. Let them on powders, oils, and paintings spend, Till that no usurer, nor his bawds dare lend Them or their officers ; and no man know,When their own parasites laugh at their fall, May they have nothing left, whereof they can Boast, but how oft they have gone wrong to man, And call it their brave sin : for such there be That do sin only for the infamy ; And never think, how vice doth every hour Eat on her clients, and some one devour. You, madam, young have learn'd to shun these shelves,Into your harbor, and all passage shut 'Gainst storms or pirates, that might charge your peace ; For which you worthy are the glad increase Of your blest womb, made fruitful from above, To pay your lord the pledges of chaste love ; And raise a noble stem, to give the fame To Clifton's blood, that is denied their name. Grow, grow, fair tree ! and as thy branches shoot,Before the moons have fill'd their triple trine, To crown the burden which you go withal, It shall a ripe and timely issue fall, T' expect the honors of great AUBIGNY ; And greater rites, yet writ in mystery, But which the fates forbid me to reveal. Only thus much out of a ravish'd zeal Unto your name, and goodness of your life,What your tried manners are, what theirs should be ; How you love one, and him you should, how still You are depending on his word and will ; Not fashion'd for the court, or strangers' eyes ; But to please him, who is the dearer prize Unto himself, by being so dear to you. This makes, that your affections still be new, And that your souls conspire, as they were goneMadam, be bold to use this truest glass ; Wherein your form you still the same shall find ; Because nor it can change, nor such a mind. Of any good mind, now ; there are so few. The bad, by number, are so fortified, As what they have lost t' expect, they dare deride. So both the prais'd and praisers suffer ; yet, For others ill ought none their good forget. I therefore, who profess myself in love With every virtue, wheresoe'er it move, And howsoever ; as I am at feud

Written by Christopher Marlowe |

Who Ever Loved That Loved Not at First Sight?

 It lies not in our power to love or hate,
For will in us is overruled by fate.
When two are stripped, long ere the course begin,
We wish that one should love, the other win;

And one especially do we affect
Of two gold ingots, like in each respect:
The reason no man knows; let it suffice
What we behold is censured by our eyes.
Where both deliberate, the love is slight:
Who ever loved, that loved not at first sight?

Written by Thomas Hardy |

At the War Office London

 I 

Last year I called this world of gain-givings 
The darkest thinkable, and questioned sadly 
If my own land could heave its pulse less gladly, 
So charged it seemed with circumstance whence springs 
 The tragedy of things. 

II 

Yet at that censured time no heart was rent 
Or feature blanched of parent, wife, or daughter 
By hourly blazoned sheets of listed slaughter; 
Death waited Nature's wont; Peace smiled unshent 
 From Ind to Occident.

Written by Robert Herrick |

To His Muse

 Whither, mad maiden, wilt thou roam?
Far safer 'twere to stay at home;
Where thou mayst sit, and piping, please
The poor and private cottages.
Since cotes and hamlets best agree
With this thy meaner minstrelsy.
There with the reed thou mayst express
The shepherd's fleecy happiness;
And with thy Eclogues intermix:
Some smooth and harmless Bucolics.
There, on a hillock, thou mayst sing
Unto a handsome shepherdling;
Or to a girl, that keeps the neat,
With breath more sweet than violet.
There, there, perhaps such lines as these
May take the simple villages;
But for the court, the country wit
Is despicable unto it.
Stay then at home, and do not go
Or fly abroad to seek for woe;
Contempts in courts and cities dwell
No critic haunts the poor man's cell,
Where thou mayst hear thine own lines read
By no one tongue there censured.
That man's unwise will search for ill,
And may prevent it, sitting still.