But who so weak of observation,
Hath not discern’d long since how virtues wanted, 10
How parsimoniously the Heavens have scanted
Our chiefest part of adoration?
But now I cease to wonder, now I find
The cause of all our monstrous penny-shows;
Now I conceit from whence wit’s scarcety grows,
Hard favour’d features, and defects of mind.
Nature long time hath stor’d up virtue, fairness,
Shaping the rest as foils unto this Rareness.
Perfectioni Hymnus.
What should I call this Creature,
Which now is grown unto maturity?
How should I blaze this feature
As firm and constant as eternity?
Call it perfection? Fie!
’Tis perfecter than brightest names can light it;
Call it Heaven’s mirror? Ay,
Alas! best attributes can never right it.
Beauty’s resistless thunder?
All nomination is too straight of sense. 10
Deep contemplation’s wonder?
That appellation give this excellence.
Within all best confined,
(Now, feebler Genius, end thy slighter rhyming),
No suburbs,[622]—all is mind,—
As far from spot as possible defining.
John Marston.
[621] The verses are from the appendix to Love’s Martyr. The appendix has a separate title—Hereafter Follow Diverse Poeticall Essaies on the former Subiect; viz.: the Turtle and Phœnix. Done by the best and chiefest of our moderne writers, with their names subscribed to their particular workes: neuer before extant, &c. Marston’s verses follow Shakespeare’s Phœnix and Turtle.