Thomas Caren

OF

THOMAS CARE W.

GENTLEMAN OF THE PRIVY-CHAMBER TO
KING CHARLES I., AND CUP-BEARER

TO HIS MAJESTY.

With an Introductory Memoir, an Appendix of
Unauthenticated Poems from MSS., Notes,
and a Table of First Lines.

EDITED BY

JOSEPH WOODFALL EBSWORTH,

M.A., F.S.A., ETC.

LONDON:

REEVES AND TURNER, 196 STRAND.

4

Dedicatory Prelude

ΤΟ

THE POEMS OF THOMAS CAREW.

AD PSYCHEM.

MAIDEN FAIR, we bring to thee

Choicest Lyric Poesy,

Such as our world rarely hears,
After five times fifty years:

No crude jests of mocking tongue;

Sweeter songs were never sung,

When both Time and Love were young.

Hearken strains from One who knew

How to praise, and how to sue :
Celia's lover, TOM CAREW.

He had bask'd in Beauty's smile,
Learn'd to prize her daintiest wile,
Yet could chide her, when he found
She would crush him to the ground;
Gave her worship, gave her fame—
Though we may not guess her name;
Saw her fickle, coy and cold,
Sometimes radiant, with the gold
Nimbus of her hair (like thine,
Where my fingers love to twine):
Now, a sun, begirt with rays;
Then, chill, with a moon-lit haze
Of impenetrable sadness,
Driving men to gloom or madness,
Till she won them back to gladness.

p. 129.]

1638.]

Live in verse the varied charms
That allured him to her arms;
Live in verse, no less complete,
Pride, that trod him 'neath her feet;
Till her petty scorn set free
Outraged Love from tyranny:
Then to others would he turn,
Hoping some new flame might burn
With unwavering warmer light—
Seeking peace, in her despite.
Still misled by fen-fire gleams,
These too were illusive dreams,
While his memory retain'd

Thoughts of her, whose love was feign'd,
Who had yet unequall'd reign'd.

Blame not, thou, his wasted hours,
Flitting round those fading flowers;
Nor account his labour vain
Whilst he Celia sought to gain—
Fairest face that Vandyck drew,
Of Whitehall's bewildering crew ;
Nymphs, who laughing partners play'd
In his Shrove-tide masquerade:
Love its own pursuit can bless,
Though it never meet success.
Happy he, whom Celia foil'd,
Since to grace his Queen he toil'd;
Faithful to the Martyr-King,
Of whose worth he lov'd to sing ;
Happy, with unshaken trust
That his reign was wise and just.
Unforeseen were all the woes
Following swiftly his life's close ;
When the Revels ebb'd away,
Soon would dawn the Evil Day.
Happier he, thus laid to rest,
Ere Rebellion rear'd its crest;
Folly's thraldom from him cast,
Contrite for all errors past:
Peace and Wisdom found at last.