| LET the bird of loudest lay, |
|
| On the sole Arabian tree, |
|
| Herald sad and trumpet be, |
|
| To whose sound chaste wings obey. |
|
|
| But thou shrieking harbinger, |
5 |
| Foul precurrer of the fiend, |
|
| Augur of the fever’s end, |
|
| To this troop come thou not near. |
|
|
| From this session interdict |
|
| Every fowl of tyrant wing, |
10 |
| Save the eagle, feather’d king: |
|
| Keep the obsequy so strict. |
|
|
| Let the priest in surplice white |
|
| That defunctive music can, |
|
| Be the death-divining swan, |
15 |
| Lest the requiem lack his right. |
|
|
| And thou treble-dated crow, |
|
| That thy sable gender mak’st |
|
| With the breath thou giv’st and tak’st, |
|
| ’Mongst our mourners shalt thou go. |
20 |
|
| Here the anthem doth commence: |
|
| Love and constancy is dead; |
|
| Phoenix and the turtle fled |
|
| In a mutual flame from hence. |
|
|
| So they lov’d, as love in twain |
25 |
| Had the essence but in one; |
|
| Two distincts, division none: |
|
| Number there in love was slain. |
|
|
| Hearts remote, yet not asunder; |
|
| Distance, and no space was seen |
30 |
| ’Twixt the turtle and his queen: |
|
| But in them it were a wonder. |
|
|
| So between them love did shine, |
|
| That the turtle saw his right |
|
| Flaming in the phoenix’ sight; |
35 |
| Either was the other’s mine. |
|
|
| Property was thus appall’d, |
|
| That the self was not the same; |
|
| Single nature’s double name |
|
| Neither two nor one was call’d. |
40 |
|
| Reason, in itself confounded, |
|
| Saw division grow together; |
|
| To themselves yet either neither, |
|
| Simple were so well compounded, |
|
|
| That it cried, ‘How true a twain |
45 |
| Seemeth this concordant one! |
|
| Love hath reason, reason none, |
|
| If what parts can so remain.’ |
|
|
| Whereupon it made this threne |
|
| To the phoenix and the dove, |
50 |
| Co-supremes and stars of love, |
|
| As chorus to their tragic scene. |
|
|
| THRENOS
Beauty, truth, and rarity, |
|
| Grace in all simplicity, |
|
| Here enclos’d in cinders lie. |
55 |
|
| Death is now the phoenix’ nest; |
|
| And the turtle’s loyal breast |
|
| To eternity doth rest, |
|
|
| Leaving no posterity: |
|
| ’Twas not their infirmity, |
60 |
| It was married chastity. |
|
|
| Truth may seem, but cannot be; |
|
| Beauty brag, but ’tis not she; |
|
| Truth and beauty buried be. |
|
|
| To this urn let those repair |
65 |
| That are either true or fair; |
|
| For these dead birds sigh a prayer. |
|
