Jim Clark..London.England
06-09-2003, 06:19 AM
Thomas Carew (pronounced Carey) was possibly born in 1594 or 1595 at west Wickham in Kent southeast England the son of a lawyer....During his life as poet,courtier and soldier his willingness to speak his mind often got him into trouble .....after losing one of his first jobs as secretary to the English embassador in Italy for allegedly making insulting remarks it became difficult for him to find gainfull employment on his return to England,but eventualy he did settling into a comfortable life as a courtier....he had gained a reputation though for being mischevious and his liberated style of living was perhaps reflected in several of his poems where he was out of step with the manners of his time in his frankness about sexual matters....
In old age he sought forgiveness for a dissolate life,but his libertine life had set him at odds with the church and his final plea on his death bed was denied....
In this delightful unforgettable poem he surely pays homage to the mystical beauty of women.....
I have taken the slight liberty of changing "jove" in the first line to "love".....it seemed to me to be more appropriate to our modern age...Heres the link to the page where you can hear this online sound poem...
http://groups.msn.com/acousticmusiciansandpoetssoundarchive/poetrysounds.msnw?action=get_message&mview=0&ID_Me ssage=352
Regards.
Jim Clark...
PS..Dont forget you can if you prefer listen to my sound poems at my Yahoo "sound poetry" web group (look in "files") heres that link
http://groups.yahoo.com/group/bloozman_uk/
All rights are reserved on this sound recording/copyright/patent Jim Clark/Wiliam Beatty aka "Hyperbole"
ASK ME NO MORE
Ask me no more where Jove bestows,
When June is past, the fading rose;
For in your beauty's orient deep
These flowers, as in their causes, sleep.
Ask me no more whither do stray
The golden atoms of the day;
For in pure love heaven did prepare
Those powders to enrich your hair.
Ask me no more whither doth haste
The nightingale when May is past;
For in your sweet dividing throat
She winters and keeps warm her note.
Ask me no more where those stars 'light
That downwards fall in dead of night;
For in your eyes they sit, and there
Fixèd become as in their sphere.
Ask me no more if east or west
The Phoenix builds her spicy nest;
For unto you at last she flies,
And in your fragrant bosom dies.
In old age he sought forgiveness for a dissolate life,but his libertine life had set him at odds with the church and his final plea on his death bed was denied....
In this delightful unforgettable poem he surely pays homage to the mystical beauty of women.....
I have taken the slight liberty of changing "jove" in the first line to "love".....it seemed to me to be more appropriate to our modern age...Heres the link to the page where you can hear this online sound poem...
http://groups.msn.com/acousticmusiciansandpoetssoundarchive/poetrysounds.msnw?action=get_message&mview=0&ID_Me ssage=352
Regards.
Jim Clark...
PS..Dont forget you can if you prefer listen to my sound poems at my Yahoo "sound poetry" web group (look in "files") heres that link
http://groups.yahoo.com/group/bloozman_uk/
All rights are reserved on this sound recording/copyright/patent Jim Clark/Wiliam Beatty aka "Hyperbole"
ASK ME NO MORE
Ask me no more where Jove bestows,
When June is past, the fading rose;
For in your beauty's orient deep
These flowers, as in their causes, sleep.
Ask me no more whither do stray
The golden atoms of the day;
For in pure love heaven did prepare
Those powders to enrich your hair.
Ask me no more whither doth haste
The nightingale when May is past;
For in your sweet dividing throat
She winters and keeps warm her note.
Ask me no more where those stars 'light
That downwards fall in dead of night;
For in your eyes they sit, and there
Fixèd become as in their sphere.
Ask me no more if east or west
The Phoenix builds her spicy nest;
For unto you at last she flies,
And in your fragrant bosom dies.