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Thomas Carew Poems

A collection of select Thomas Carew famous poems that were written by Thomas Carew or written about the poet by other famous poets. PoetrySoup is a comprehensive educational resource of the greatest poems and poets on history.

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by Carew, Thomas
 We read of kings and gods that kindly took 
A pitcher fill'd with water from the brook ; 
But I have daily tender'd without thanks 
Rivers of tears that overflow their banks. 
A slaughter'd bull will appease angry Jove, 
A horse the Sun, a lamb the god of love, 
But she disdains the spotless sacrifice 
Of a pure heart,...Read More



by Carew, Thomas
 In Nature's pieces still I see
Some error that might mended be;
Something my wish could still remove,
Alter or add; but my fair love
Was fram'd by hands far more divine,
For she hath every beauteous line:
Yet I had been far happier,
Had Nature, that made me, made her.
Then likeness might (that love creates)
Have made her love what now she hates;
Yet I confess I...Read More

by Carew, Thomas
 Go thou gentle whispering wind,
Bear this sigh; and if thou find
Where my cruel fair doth rest,
Cast it in her snowy breast,
So, enflam'd by my desire,
It may set her heart a-fire.
Those sweet kisses thou shalt gain,
Will reward thee for thy pain:
Boldly light upon her lip,
There suck odours, and thence skip
To her bosom; lastly fall
Down, and wander over all:
Range about those...Read More

by Carew, Thomas
 Ask me no more where Jove bestows, 
When June is past, the fading rose; 
For in your beauty's orient deep 
These flowers as in their causes, sleep. 

Ask me no more whither doth stray 
The golden atoms of the day; 
For in pure love heaven did prepare 
Those powders to enrich your hair. 

Ask me no more whither doth...Read More

by Carew, Thomas
 Can we not force from widow'd poetry, 
Now thou art dead (great Donne) one elegy 
To crown thy hearse? Why yet dare we not trust, 
Though with unkneaded dough-bak'd prose, thy dust, 
Such as th' unscissor'd churchman from the flower 
Of fading rhetoric, short-liv'd as his hour, 
Dry as the sand that measures it, should lay 
Upon thy ashes,...Read More



by Carew, Thomas
 Ask me no more where Jove bestows,
When June is past, the fading rose;
For in your beauty's orient deep
These flowers, as in their causes, sleep.

Ask me no more whither do stray
The golden atoms of the day;
For in pure love heaven did prepare
Those powders to enrich your hair.

Ask me no more whither doth haste
The nightingale when May is past;
For in your...Read More

by Carew, Thomas
 He that loves a rosy cheek, 
Or a coral lip admires, 
Or from starlike eyes doth seek 
Fuel to maintain his fires; 
As old Time makes these decay, 
So his flames must waste away. 

But a smooth and steadfast mind, 
Gentle thoughts and calm desires, 
Hearts with equal love combined, 
Kindle never-dying fires. 
Where these are not, I despise...Read More

by Carew, Thomas
 He that loves a rosy cheek,
Or a coral lip admires,
Or from star-like eyes doth seek
Fuel to maintain his fires:
As old Time makes these decay,
So his flames must waste away.

But a smooth and steadfast mind,
Gentle thoughts, and calm desires,
Hearts with equal love combined,
Kindle never-dying fires:
Where these are not, I despise
Lovely cheeks or lips or eyes....Read More

by Carew, Thomas
 I do not love thee for that fair
Rich fan of thy most curious hair;
Though the wires thereof be drawn
Finer than threads of lawn,
And are softer than the leaves
On which the subtle spider weaves.

I do not love thee for those flowers
Growing on thy cheeks, love's bowers;
Though such cunning them hath spread,
None can paint them white and red:
Love's golden arrows thence...Read More

by Carew, Thomas
 Know, Celia, since thou art so proud,
'Twas I that gave thee thy renown.
Thou hadst in the forgotten crowd
Of common beauties lived unknown
Had not my verse extolled thy name,
And with it imped the wings of Fame.

That killing power is none of thine;
I gave it to thy voice and eyes.
Thy sweets, thy graces, all are mine;
Thou art my star, shin'st in...Read More

by Carew, Thomas
 IN Celia's face a question did arise,
Which were more beautiful, her lips or eyes ? 
“ We,” said the eyes, “send forth those pointed darts 
Which pierce the hardest adamantine hearts.” 
“ From us,” repli'd the lips, “proceed those blisses 
Which lovers reap by kind words and sweet kisses.” 
Then wept the eyes, and from their springs did pour...Read More

by Carew, Thomas
 Give me more love or more disdain; 
The torrid, or the frozen zone,
Bring equal ease unto my pain;
The temperate affords me none;
Either extreme, of love, or hate,
Is sweeter than a calm estate.

Give me a storm; if it be love,
Like Danae in that golden show'r
I swim in pleasure; if it prove
Disdain, that torrent will devour
My vulture-hopes; and he's possess'd
Of heaven,...Read More

by Carew, Thomas
 IF when the sun at noon displays
His brighter rays, 
Thou but appear, 
He then, all pale with shame and fear,
Quencheth his light,
Hides his dark brow, flies from thy sight,
And grows more dim,
Compared to thee, than stars to him.
If thou but show thy face again,
When darkness doth at midnight reign,
The darkness flies, and light is hurl'd
Round about the silent world...Read More

by Carew, Thomas
 GAZE not on thy beauty's pride, 
Tender maid, in the false tide 
That from lovers' eyes doth slide. 
Let thy faithful crystal show 
How thy colours come and go : 
Beauty takes a foil from woe. 

Love, that in those smooth streams lies 
Under pity's fair disguise, 
Will thy melting heart surprise. 

Nets of passion's finest thread, 
Snaring poems,...Read More

by Carew, Thomas
 GIVE me more love or more disdain ; 
The torrid or the frozen zone 
Bring equal ease unto my pain, 
The temperate affords me none : 
Either extreme of love or hate, 
Is sweeter than a calm estate. 

Give me a storm ; if it be love, 
Like Dana? in that golden shower, 
I swim in pleasure ; if...Read More

by Carew, Thomas
 I'LL gaze no more on her bewitching face, 
Since ruin harbours there in every place ; 
For my enchanted soul alike she drowns 
With calms and tempests of her smiles and frowns. 
I’ll love no more those cruel eyes of hers, 
Which, pleased or anger’d, still are murderers : 
For if she dart, like lightning, through the air 
Her...Read More

by Carew, Thomas
 How ill doth he deserve a lover's name, 
Whose pale weak flame 
Cannot retain 
His heat, in spite of absence or disdain; 
But doth at once, like paper set on fire, 
Burn and expire; 
True love can never change his seat, 
Nor did her ever love, that could retreat. 

That noble flame which my breast keeps alive 
Shall still...Read More

by Carew, Thomas
 Ask me why I send you here
The firstling of the infant year;
Ask me why I send to you
This primrose all bepearled with dew:
I straight will whisper in your ears,
The sweets of love are washed with tears.
Ask me why this flower doth show
So yellow, green, and sickly too;
Ask me why the stalk is weak
And bending, yet it doth not break:
I...Read More

by Carew, Thomas
 Now that the winter's gone, the earth hath lost 
Her snow-white robes, and now no more the frost 
Candies the grass, or casts an icy cream 
Upon the silver lake or crystal stream; 
But the warm sun thaws the benumbed earth, 
And makes it tender; gives a sacred birth 
To the dead swallow; wakes in hollow tree 
The drowsy...Read More

by Carew, Thomas
 HE that loves a rosy cheek, 
 Or a coral lip admires, 
Or from star-like eyes doth seek 
 Fuel to maintain his fires: 
As old Time makes these decay, 
So his flames must waste away. 

But a smooth and steadfast mind, 
 Gentle thoughts and calm desires, 
Hearts with equal love combined, 
 Kindle never-dying fires. 
Where these...Read More