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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required XI. — EPODE. And her black spite expel, Which to effect (since no breast is so sure, Or safe, but she'll procure Some way of entrance) we must plant a guard Of thoughts to watch, and ward At the eye and ear, the ports unto the mind, Give knowledge instantly, To wakeful reason, our affections' king : Who, in th' examining, Will quickly taste the treason, and commit Close, the close cause of it. 'Tis the securest policy we have, To make our sense our slave. But this true course is not embraced by many : Or else the sentinel, That should ring larum to the heart, doth sleep ; Or some great thought doth keep Back the intelligence, and falsely swears, They are base, and idle fears Whereof the loyal conscience so complains, Thus, by these subtile trains, Do several passions invade the mind, The first ; as prone to move Most frequent tumults, horrors, and unrests, In our enflamed breasts : But this doth from the cloud of error grow, Which thus we over-blow. The thing they here call Love, is blind desire, Arm'd with bow, shafts, and fire ; Inconstant, like the sea, of whence 'tis born, And boils, as if he were In a continual tempest. Now, true love No such effects doth prove ; That is an essence far more gentle, fine, Pure, perfect, nay divine ; It is a golden chain let down from heaven, Whose links are bright and even, That falls like sleep on lovers, and combines To murder different hearts, But in a calm, and god-like unity, Preserves community. O, who is he, that, in this peace, enjoys The elixir of all joys ? A form more fresh than are the Eden bowers, And lasting as her flowers : Richer than Time, and as time's virtue rare Who, blest with such high chance Would, at suggestion of a steep desire, Cast himself from the spire Of all his happiness ? But soft : I hear Some vicious fool draw near, That cries, we dream, and swears there's no such thing, As this chaste love we sing. Peace, Luxury, thou art like one of those No, Vice, we let thee know, Though thy wild thoughts with sparrows' wings do flie, Turtles can chastly die ; And yet (in this t' express ourselves more clear) We do not number here Such spirits as are only continent, Because lust's means are spent : Or those, who doubt the common mouth of fame, Is mere necessity. Nor mean we those, whom vows and conscience Have fill'd with abstinence : Though we acknowledge, who can so abstain, Makes a most blessed gain. He that for love of goodness hateth ill, Is more crown-worthy still, Than he, which for sin's penalty forbears ; Graced with a Phoenix' love ; A beauty of that clear and sparkling light, Would make a day of night, And turn the blackest sorrows to bright joys ; Whose odorous breath destroys All taste of bitterness, and makes the air As sweet as she is fair. A body so harmoniously composed, O, so divine a creature, Who could be false to? chiefly, when he knows How only she bestows The wealthy treasure of her love on him ; Making his fortune swim In the full flood of her admired perfection ? What savage, brute affection, Would not be fearful to offend a dame To virtuous moods inclined That knows the weight of guilt ; he will refrain From thoughts of such a strain, And to his sense object this sentence ever, "Man may securely sin, but safely never." Is virtue and not fate : Next to that virtue, is to know vice well, And her black spite expel, Which to effect (since no breast is so sure, Or safe, but she'll procure Some way of entrance) we must plant a guard Of thoughts to watch, and ward At the eye and ear, the ports unto the mind,
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XI. — EPODE.