Columbine
37
From The purple island by Phineas Fletcher
chosen by Hannah
So rushes green, smooth, full, are spungie light;
So their ragg’d stones in velvet peaches gown:
So rotten sticks seem starres in chearing night;
So quagmires false their mire with emeralds crown:
Smooth rush, hard peach, fere wood, false mire, a voice,
From Certain Learned and elegant works… by Fulke Greville
chosen by Emerald
The Earth with thunder torne, with fire blasted,
With waters drowned, with windie palsey shaken
Cannot for this with heaven be distasted,
Since thunder, raine and winds from earth and taken :
Man torne with Love, with inward furies blasted,
Drown’d with despaire, with fleshly lustings shaken,
Cannot for this with heaven be distasted,
Love, furie, lustings out of man are taken.
Then Man, endure thy selfe, those clouds will vanish;
Life is a Top which whipping Sorrow driveth,
Wisdome must beare what our flesh cannot banish,
The humble leade, the stubborne bottlesse striveth:
Or Man, forsake thy selfe, to heaven turne thee,
Her flames enlighten Nature, never burne thee.