Berkeley, William · published 1638 · first performed or written 1637 [1637-1638] (Annals) not in BritDrama unassigned nearest T4 Love-longing and the lover's complaint · 527 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T4: love, heart, sweet, loves, fair, phillis, eyes, beauty, amyntas, lovers.
This declaration of your favouring me, will plead My pardon, if I do omit the Ceremonial circumstance, Which usually makes way for this great truth I now must utter. Madam, I do love Your virtues with that adoration, That the all-seeing Sun does not behold A Lady that I love with equal ardour. Our friends have most power over us, both Do second my desires of joining us In the sacred tie of Marriage. My Lord, I thought at first how ill my words Became a virgin's but give'em the right sense They were designed, which was to speak you truly, Not with a flattering ambition: They might engage you to the love of one So far unequal, if I have ever gained Any thing on your goodness, I'll not lose it By foolishly aspiring to that height, You must in honour dispossess me of When I was seated: Marry you my Lord! The King, our neighbour Princes, all good men Must curse me as a stain to those great virtues You're the single Lord of; if you speak this to try What easy conquest you can make of all, You faintly but pretend to, I'll confess The weakness of our Sex, who would be prouder Only to have the shows of your affection, Than real loves of any they can hope With Justice to attain to. whatever I deserve, The gods have largely recompensed my intent Of doing virtuously, if it hath gained so much Upon your goodness, as to make a way for my affection. My Lord, I do not understand you. Pardon me dearest Lady, if my words Too boldly do deliver what my actions And frequent services should first have smoothed The way they are to take, my Happiness So nearly is concerned, you shall approve Me for your Servant, that I trembling haste, To know what rigours or what joys expect me. But ere you do begin to speak my Fate, Know whom you do condemn, or whom make happy: One, that when misery had made so wretched, That it ravished his desires to change, Whose eyes were turned inward on his grief, Pleased with no object but what caused their tears, Your beauty only raised from his dark seat Of circling sorrows, lighting me a hope By you I might receive all happiness, The gods have made my heart capacious of. Good my Lord, give me leave again to say, I dare not understand you, you are too noble To glory in the conquest of a heart That ever hath admired you, and to think You can so far forget your Birth and Virtue, As to believe me fit to be your Wife, Were a presumption, that swelling pride Must be the father of, which never yet My heart could be allied to: continue Prince, Be the example of a constant love, And let not your MILESIA'S ashes shrink With a new piercing cold, which they will feel I'th' instant, that your heart shall be consenting To any new affection, and give me leave to say, Your mind can ne'er admit a noble Love, If it hath banished hers your memory.
seed 43: unassigned · seed 44: unassigned — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
This declaration of your favouring me, will plead My pardon, if I doe omit the Ceremoniall circumstance, Which usually makes way for this great truth I now must utter. Madam, I doe love Your vertues with that adoration, That the all-seeing Sunne does not behold A Lady that I love with equall ardour. Our friends have most power over us, both Doe second my desires of joyning us In the sacred tye of Marriage. My Lord, I thought at first how ill my words Became a Virgins but give'em the right sence They were design'd, which was to speake you truely, Not with a flatt'ring ambition: They might engage you to the love of one So farre unequall, if I have ever gain'd Any thing on your goodnesse, I'le not lose it By foolishly aspiring to that height, You must in honour dispossesse me of When I was seated: Marry you my Lord! The King, our neighbour Princes, all good men Must curse me as a staine to those great vertues You're the single Lord of; if you speake this to try What easie conquest you can make of all, You faintly but pretend to, I'le confesse The weakenesse of our Sexe, who would be prouder Onely to have the shewes of your affection, Than reall loves of any they can hope With Justice to attaine to. What ever I deserve, The gods have largely recompenc'd my intent Of doing vertuously, if it hath gain'd so much Upon your goodnesse, as to make a way for my affection. My Lord, I doe not understand you. Pardon me dearest Lady, if my words Too boldly doe deliver what my actions And frequent services should first have smooth'd The way they are to take, my Happinesse So nearely is concern'd, you shall approve Me for your Servant, that I trembling hast, To know what rigours or what joyes expect me. But ere you doe begin to speake my Fate, Know whom you doe condemne, or whom make happy: One, that when misery had made so wretched, That it ravisht his desires to change, Whose eyes were turned inward on his griefe, Pleas'd with no object but what caus'd their teares, Your beauty onely rais'd from his darke seate Of circling sorrowes, lighting me a hope By you I might receive all happinesse, The gods have made my heart capacious of. Good my Lord, give me leave againe to say, I dare not understand you, you are too noble To glory in the conquest of a heart That ever hath admir'd you, and to thinke You can so farre forget your Birth and Vertue, As to beleeve me fit to be your Wife, Were a presumption, that swelling pride Must be the father of, which never yet My heart could be ally'd to: continue Prince, Be the example of a constant love, And let not your MILESIA'S ashes shrinke With a new piercing cold, which they will feele I'th 'instant, that your heart shall be consenting To any new affection, and give me leave to say, Your mind can ne're admit a noble Love, If it hath banisht hers your memory.