Analysis of To A. L. Persuasions to Love.



THINK not, 'cause men flattering say
You're fresh as April, sweet as May,
Bright as is the morning star,
That you are so ; or, though you are,
Be not therefore proud, and deem
All men unworthy your esteem :
For, being so, you lose the pleasure
Of being fair, since that rich treasure
Of rare beauty and sweet feature
Was bestow'd on you by nature
To be enjoy'd ; and 'twere a sin
There to be scarce, where she hath bin
So prodigal of her best graces.
Thus common beauties and mean faces
Shall have more pastime, and enjoy
The sport you lose by being coy.
Did the thing for which I sue
Only concern myself, not you ;
Were men so framed as they alone
Reap'd all the pleasure, women none ;
Then had you reason to be scant :
But 'twere a madness not to grant
That which affords (if you consent)
To you the giver, more content
Than me, the beggar.  Oh, then be
Kind to yourself, if not to me.
Starve not yourself, because you may
Thereby make me pine away ;
Nor let brittle beauty make
You your wiser thoughts forsake ;
For that lovely face will fail.
Beauty's sweet, but beauty's frail,
'Tis sooner past, 'tis sooner done,
Than summer's rain, or winter's sun ;
Most fleeting, when it is most dear,
'Tis gone, while we but say 'tis here.
These curious locks, so aptly twined,
Whose every hair a soul doth bind,
Will change their auburn hue and grow
White and cold as winter's snow.
That eye, which now is Cupid's nest,
Will prove his grave, and all the rest
Will follow ; in the cheek, chin, nose,
Nor lily shall be found, nor rose.
And what will then become of all
Those whom now you servants call ?
Like swallows, when your summer's done,
They'll fly, and seek some warmer sun.
Then wisely choose one to your friend
Whose love may, when your beauties end,
Remain still firm : be provident,
And think, before the summer's spent,
Of following winter ; like the ant,
In plenty hoard for time of scant.
Cull out, amongst the multitude
Of lovers, that seek to intrude
Into your favour, one that may
Love for an age, not for a day ;
One that will quench your youthful fires,
And feed in age your hot desires.
For when the storms of time have moved
Waves on that cheek which was beloved,
When a fair lady's face is pined,
And yellow spread where once red shined ;
When beauty, youth, and all sweets leave her,
Love may return, but lover never :
And old folks say there are no pains
Like itch of love in aged veins.
O love me, then, and now begin it,
Let us not lose this present minute ;
For time and age will work that wrack
Which time or age shall ne'er call back.
The snake each year fresh skin resumes,
And eagles change their aged plumes ;
The faded rose each spring receives
A fresh red tincture on her leaves :
But if your beauties once decay,
You never know a second May.
O then, be wise, and whilst your season
Affords you days for sport, do reason ;
Spend not in vain your life's short hour,
But crop in time your beauty's flower,
Which will away, and doth together
Both bud and fade, both blow and wither.


Scheme AABBCCDDDDEEFGHHIIJKLLMMNNAAOOPPKKQRSSTTUUVVWWKKXXYMLLZZAA1 1 2 3 SSDD4 4 5 6 7 7 8 8 9 9 AAKKDDDD
Poetic Form
Metre 11111001 11110111 1110101 11111111 111101 11010101 110111010 110111110 11100110 10111110 11010101 11111111 110010110 110100110 1111001 01111101 1011111 1001111 01111101 11010101 11110111 11010111 11011101 11010110 11010111 11011111 11010111 1111101 1110101 1110101 1110111 11111 11011101 11011101 11011111 11111111 110011101 110010111 11110101 1011101 1111111 11110101 11000111 11011111 01110111 1111101 11011101 11011101 11011111 11111101 01111100 01010101 110010101 01011111 1101010 11011101 0111111 11111101 111111010 010111010 11011111 11111101 10110111 01011111 110101110 110111010 01111111 1111011 111101011 111111010 11011111 11111111 01111101 0101111 01011101 01110101 11110101 11010101 111101110 011111110 110111110 11011110 110101010 110111010
Closest metre Iambic tetrameter
Characters 2,933
Words 559
Sentences 17
Stanzas 1
Stanza Lengths 84
Lines Amount 84
Letters per line (avg) 27
Words per line (avg) 7
Letters per stanza (avg) 2,299
Words per stanza (avg) 578
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Submitted on May 13, 2011

Modified on March 05, 2023

2:52 min read
94

Thomas Carew

Thomas Carew pronounced Carey was an English poet Carews poems are sensuous lyrics more…

All Thomas Carew poems | Thomas Carew Books

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