CELIA SINGING. [I]
HARK, how my Celia with the choice
Music of her hand and voice
Stills the loud wind, and makes the wild
Incensed boar and panther mild.
Mark how those statues like men move,
Whilst men with wonder statues prove.
This stiff rock bends to worship her ;
That idol turns idolater.
Now, see how all the new-inspired
Images with love are fired ;
Hark, how the tender marble groans,
And all the late transformed stones
Court the fair nymph, with many a tear,
Which she, more stony than they were,
Beholds with unrelenting mind ;
Whilst they, amazed to see combined
Such matchless beauty with disdain,
Are all turn'd into stones again.
Vincent, Arthur, ed. The Poems of Thomas Carew.
London: George Routledge & Sons, Ltd., nd. 53.
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