To My Fancie Upon Theophila Poem by Edward Benlowes

Fly, Fancie, Beauties arched Brow,
Darts, wing'd with Fire, thence sparkling flow.
From Flash of Lightning Eye--balls turn;
Contracted Beams of Chrystal burn.
Wave Curls, which Wit Gold--tresses calls,
That golden Fleece to Tinsel falls.

Evade Thou peach--bloom Cheek--Decoies,
Where both the Roses blend false Joyes.
Presse not the two--leav'd Rubie Gates,
Which fence their Pearl--Portcullis Grates.
Suck not the Breath, though it return
Fragrant, as Phoenix spicie Urn.

Lock up thine Ears, and so disarm
The Magick of inamoring Charm.
The lily'd Breasts with Violets vein'd
Are Flow'rs, as soon deflowr'd as gain'd.
Love--locks, Perfume, Paint, Spots dispraise;
These by the Black--Art Spirits raise.

Garnish no Bristows with rich Mine,
Glow--worms are Vermin, though they shine.
Should one Love--knot All Lovelies tie,
This One, These All, soon cloy and die.
Cupid, as lame as blinde, being gone,
Live One with Him, Who made Thee One.

Avoid exotick Pangs o'th' Brain,
Nor let thy Margent blush a Stain.
With artful Method Misc'line sow:
May Judgement with Invention grow.
Profit with Pleasure bring to th' Test,
Be Oar refin'd, before imprest.

Passe Forge and File, be Point and Edge
'Gainst what severest Browes alledge.
Mix Balm with Ink; Let thy Salt heal:
T' each Palate various Manna deal.
Have for the Wise strong Sense, deep Truth:
Grand--Sallet of choice Wit for Youth.

Cull Metaphors well--weigh'd and clear,
Enucle'ate Mysteries to th' Ear.
Be Wit Stenography'd, yet free;
'Tis largest in Epitome.
Fly through Arts Heptarchie, be clad
With Wings to soar, but not to gad.

Thy Pineons raise with mystick Fire,
Sometimes 'bove high--roof't Sense aspire.
So draw Theoph'la, that each Line,
Centring in Heav'n, may seem Divine.
Her Voice soon fits Thee for that Quire;
W' are cindred by intrinsick Fire.

Magnetick Virtue's in her Brest
Impregn'd with Grace, the noblest Guest.
Who in Loves Albo are enrol'd,
Unutterable Joyes behold.
Geographers Earths Globe survey,
Fancie, Heavn's Astrolabe display.

Six hast thou view'd of Europs Courts,
Soon, as Idaeas, pass'd their Sports.
Sense, canst thou perse and construe Blisse?
Only Souls sanctify'd know This.
Then hackney not to Toyes, Lifes Span.
The Saints Rere tops the Courtiers Van.

In Hopes Cell holy Hermit be:
Let Ecstasies transfigure Thee.
There, as Truths Champion, strive all Waies,
To storm Loves Towre with Hosts of Praise.
Keep strong Faiths Court of Guard. The Stars
March in Batalia to these Wars.

Zealous in Pray'r besiege the Skie,
Conquests are Crown'd by Constancie:
Stand Cen'tnell at the Bridegrooms Gates;
Who serve there, reign o're earthly States,
Rais'd on Devotions flaming Wings
Disdain the crakling Blaze of Things.

No Musick courts Spiritual Ears
Like high--tun'd Anthems; This uprears
Thee, Fancie, rapt through Mists of Fears,
And Clouds of Penitential Tears;
Eagling 'bove transitory Sphears,
Till ev'n the Invisible appears.

Divorc'd from past and present Toyes,
Spouse New Jerus'lems future Joyes;
Be Re--baptiz'd in Eye--dew--Fall,
Of All forgot, forget Thou All.
These Acts well kept, Commence, and prove
Professor in Seraphick Love.