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richard burton - elegy viii - the comparison lyrics

as the sweet sweat of roses in a still
as that which from chafed musk cat’s pores doth trill
as the almighty balm of th’ early east
such are the sweat drops of my mistress’ breast ;
and on her neck her skin such l+stre sets
they seem no sweat drops, but pearl carcanets
rank sweaty froth thy mistress’ brow defiles
like spermatic issue of ripe menstruous boils
or like the scum, which, by need’s lawless law
enforced, sanserra’s starvèd men did draw
from parboil’d shoes and boots, and all the rest
which were with any sovеreign fatness blest ;
and likе vile lying stones in saffron’d tin
or warts, or wheals, it hangs upon her skin
round as the world’s her head, on every side
like to the fatal ball which fell on ide ;
or that whereof god had such jealousy
as for the ravishing thereof we die
thy head is like a rough+hewn statue of jet
where marks for eyes, nose, mouth, are yet scarce set ;
like the first chaos, or flat seeming face
of cynthia, when th’ earth’s shadows her embrace
like proserpine’s white beauty+keeping chest
or jove’s best fortune’s urn, is her fair breast
thine’s like worm+eaten trunks, clothed in seal’s skin
or grave, that’s dust without, and stink within
and like that slender stalk, at whose end stands
the woodbine quivering, are her arms and hands
like rough+bark’d elm+boughs, or the russet skin
of men late scourged for madness, or for sin
like sun+parch’d quarters on the city gate
such is thy tann’d skin’s lamentable state ;
and like a bunch of ragged carrots stand
the short swollen fingers of thy gouty hand
then like the chemic’s masculine equal fire
which in the limbec’s warm womb doth inspire
into th’ earth’s worthless dirt a soul of gold
such cherishing heat her best loved part doth hold
thine’s like the dread mouth of a fired gun
or like hot liquid metals newly run
into clay moulds, or like to that ætna
where round about the grass is burnt away
are not your kisses then as filthy, and more
as a worm sucking an envenom’d sore?
doth not thy fearful hand in feeling quake
as one which gathering flowers still fears a snake?
is not your last act harsh and violent
as when a plough a stony ground doth rent?
so kiss good turtles, so devoutly nice
are priests in handling reverent sacrifice
and such in searching wounds the surgeon is
as we, when we embrace, or touch, or kiss
leave her, and i will leave comparing thus
she and comparisons are odious

- richard burton lyrics

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