Also Known As the Clarke Ms

Worcester Coll Ms 6.13.

Also known as the Clarke Ms

Transcribed February 2015.

This transcript of Philips’ work may be freely used by scholars and students interested in her poetry and life. Help me to provide as clean a copy for readers as I can by forwarding errors in transcription to me at .

Please cite as: Philips, Katherine. “Title of Poem.” Title of Ms. Date of Ms. Name of Library or Owner, city. Transcribed by Paul Trolander. Katherinephilips.org. Inclusive pages. Date of access. Web.

Katherine Fowler Philips(1632-1664) was born and educated in London. At the age of sixteen, she married James Philips, whose family had prominent gentry connections throughout Pembrokeshire and Cardiganshire. James' positions in Cromwell's government often brought Katherine back to London where she and her friends socialized at the home and salon of Henry Lawes (former court musician and band leader). Her songs were performed at Lawes' concerts and found their way into editions of his songbooks printed in the 1650s. This inner circle of friends and family served as both the inspiration and audience for her early friendship poetry. When Charles II returned to England in 1661, James lost his government positions and was exiled to his family seat in Cardigan. During this time, Katherine appears to have worked her royalist connections to cultivate a strong friendship with courtier Sir Charles Cotterell. With his help, Katherine's verse became popular at White Hall, providing a spring board to acareer as a print poet and translator. With the material aid of Charles Boyle, Earl of Orrery, and other Irish courtiers, Katherine staged and printed her translation of Corneille's rhyming tragedyPompeyin Dublin and in London. After this success, Sir Charles Cotterell and Lady Mary Aubrey Montagu worked hard to find James a position in Charles II's government, so that Katherine could return to London to further her writing career. Katherine Philips, on the verge of great success, died in London of smallpox while at work on her translation of Corneille'sHorace.

EditorBio: Paul Trolander, scholar of seventeenth- and eighteenth-century English literary culture, specializes in the history of criticism and small group interactions among literary networks. His monograph Literary Sociability in Early Modern England, the Epistolary Record, 1620-1720, examines early modern literary sociability from the perspective of letter exchange. Sociable Criticism in England, 1625 to 1725 (Delaware, 2007), written with co-author Prof. Zeynep Tenger, explores how cultural modes of sociability impacted genres of print criticism in the seventeenth and early eighteenth centuries. He is a professor in the English Department at Berry College.

Adam Matthewsdescription:

Worcester Coll Ms 6.13 Clarke Ms 73 poems

Folio, 281pp (plus blanks), written c1662. A verse miscellany commencing with Abraham Cowley's commendatory poem on Orinda and largely featuring the poems of Katherine Philips. There are some later additions from the late 17th and 18th centuries including those of George Clarke (1661-1736), once owner of this volume (and son of Sir William Clarke (1623?-1736), Secretary of War to the Commonwealth and Charles II.) Contains 73 poems by Orinda.

Beal CELMdescription:

Conventions: Titles are those given in the text transcribed. Poems are numbered first by their order of placement in Patrick Thomas’s Volume I: The Poems vol. 1 of The Collected Poems of Katherine Philips, The Matchless Orinda. Stump Cross, Essex: Stump Cross Press, 1990. The second number in parentheses represents the order of the poems in the text transcribed. Pagination has been added at the bottom of the page. However, the page breaks reflect those from the text transcribed.

74 (1)

Happines

Nature Courts happynes, although it be

unknowne as ye Athenian Deity

It dwels not in mans sence, but he supplies

That want by growing fond of it's disguise

The false appearances of Joy deceive

And seeking her unto her like we cleave

For sinning man hath scarce sence left to know

Whither the planke he grasps will hold or noe

While all ye busines of ye world is this

To seeke that good wch by mistake they misse

And all ye severall passions Men expresse

Are but for pleasure in a different dresse

They hope for happines in being greate

Or Rich, or loved, then hug their owne conceite;

And those wch promise what they never had

Ith’middist of Laughter, leave ye spirit sad

But ye good man can find this treasure out

For wch in vaine others doe dig,doubt

And hath such secret full content within

Though all abroad be stormes, yet he can sing

tis peace is made, all’s quiet in that place

Where nature’s cur'd & exercised by grace

His inward calme prevents his Enemies

For he canne neither Envy nor despise

But in ye Beauty of his orderd mind

Doth still a new, rich satisfaccon find

Innocent Epicure, whose single breast

Can furnish him wth a continuall feast

A prince at home,Scepters can refuse

valuing only what he canot loose

He studdies to doe good (a man may be

Harmelessefor want of Opportunity)

But Hee’s industrious kindnes to dispence

And therein only covets Eminence

Others doe court applausefame, but he

Thinkes allyt giddy noise but vanity.

He takes no paines to be observed or seene

While all his Acts are Ecchoed from within

He still himselfe when company are gone

Too well employed ever to be alone

For studying god in all his Volumes he

Begins ye busines of Eternity

And unconcernedwthout retaines a power

To sucke like bees a sweete from every flower

And as the Manna of ye Israelites

Had severall tasts to please all appetites

So his contentmt is that Catholicke food

That makes all states seeme fit, as well as good.

He dares not wish, nor his owne fate propound

But (if god sends) reades love in Every wound

And would not loose for all ye joyes of Sence

The glorious pleasures of Obedience.

His better part canne neither change nor loose

Andall Gods will can doecanbeare,choose.

75 (2)

Death

How weake a starre doth Rule mankind

wch owes its Ruine to ye same

Causes, wch nature had designed

To cherishpreserve ye frame.

As Com̅onwealths may be secure

Andno remote Invasion dread

Yet may a sadder fall endure

From traytors in their bosome bred.

So while we feele no violence

Andon our active health doe trust

A secret hand doth snatch us hence

Andtumbles us into ye Dust

Yet carelessly we runne our race

As if we could death's sum̅ons wave

And thinke not onthe narrow space

Betweene a Tablea grave.

But since we cantDeath repreive

our Soulesfame we ought to mind

For they our Bodies will Survive

That goes beyond, this stayes behind

If I be sure my Soule is safe

Andyt my Accons will provide

My Tombe a nobler Epitaph

Thenyt I only lived & dyed

So that in various accidents

I conscience mayhonour keepe

I with that EaseInnocence

shal dye as Infants goe to sleepe

72 (3)

The World.

Wee falsely thinke it due unto our freinds

That we should greive for their too early ends

Heyt Surveyes ye world wth seriousEyes

And strips her from her grosse weake disguise

shal find tis Injury to mourne their fate

He only dies untimely who dyeslate

For if ’twere told to children in ye wombe

To wt a stage of mischeives they must come

Could they foresee wth how much toylesweate

Men court that guilded nothing being greate

What paines they take not to be what they seeme

Rating their blisse by others false Esteeme

And sacrificing their content to be

guilty of graveserious vanity

How each condicon hath its proper thornes

And wt one man admires another scornes

How frequently their happines they misse

And so farre from agreeing wt it is

That ye same pson we canne hardly find

who is an houre togeather in one mind

Sure they would beg a period of their breath

And wt we call their birth would count their death

Mankind are mad: for none canne live alone

Because yr joyes stand by Comparison.

And yet they quarrell at Society

And strive to kill theyknow not whom nor why

We all live by mistake, delight in dreames

Lost to our selvesdwelling in Extreames

Rejecting wt we have though nere so good

And prizing wt we never understood.

Compared to our boystrous inconstancy

Tempests are calmeand discords Harmony

Hence we reverse ye worldand yet doe find

The god yt made, cannehardly please our mind

We live by chanceand slip into Events

Have all of Beasts except their Innocence

The Soule wch no manspower cannereach, a thing

That makes each woman man, each man a King

Doth so much loosefrom its height so fall

That some contend to have no Soule at all

Tis either not observed or atye best

by passion fought wthall by sin deprest

Freedome of will gods Image is forgot

And if weknow it we improve it not

our Thoughts thou nothing canne be more our owne

are still unguided very seldome knowne

Time 'scapes our hands as water in a Sive

We come to dye ere we begin to Live

Truth ye most suitableand noble prize

Foode of our spirits yet neglected lyes

Errorsshadowes are our choise,and we

Owe our Perdicon to our owne decree

If we search truth we make it more obscure

And when it shines we cantthe Light endure

For most men who plod onand eateand drinke

Have nothing lessetheir busines then to thinke.

And those few that enquire; how small a share

of Truth they find? how darke their notions are

That serious Evenes that calmes the breast

And in a Tempest canne bestow a Rest

We either not attempt or else decline

By every trifle snatched from our designe

(others he must in his deceites involve

who is not true unto his owne resolve)

We governe not our selves but loose ye reines

Courting our bondage to a thousand chaines

And wth as many Slaveryes content

As there are tyrants ready to torment

We live upon a racke, extended still

To one extreame or both, but alwayes ill,

For since our fortune is not understood

We suffer lessefrom bad then from ye good

The sting is better drestlonger lasts

As surfeites are more dangerous than fasts

And to compleate ye misery to us

We see extreames are still contiguous

And as we runne so fast from what we hate

Like squibs on Ropes toknow no midle state

So (outward stormes strengthned by us) we find

Our fortune as disordered as our mind

But thats excused by this it doth its pte

A treacherous world befits a treacherous heart,

All ill’s our own; the outward stormes we loath

Receive from us their birth, their sting, or both

And yt our vanity be past a doubt

T'is one new vanity to find it out

Happy are they to whom God gives a grave

And from themselves as from his wrath doth save

Tis good not to be borne, but if we must

The next good is soone to returne to dust

When ye uncag'd soule fled to Eternity

Shall rest,livesinglovesee.

Here we but crawlegrabbeplaycry

Are first our owne then others Enemy

But there shalbe defaced both stainescore

For timedeathsin shalbe no more.

73 (4)

The Soule

How vaine a thing is man whose noblest part

That Soule wch through ye world doth come

Traverses heaven, finds out ye depths of Art

yet is so ignorant at home.

In Every brooke our Mirrour we can find

Reflecons of our face to be

But a true opticke to present our mind

We hardly getdarkely see.

Yet in ye search after our selves we runne

Acconscauses we Survey

And when ye weary chase is almost done

From ourQuest we slipp away

Tis strangesad that since we doe beleive

we have a Soule must never dye

There are so few yt canne a Reason give

How it obteynes yt life, or why

I wonder not to find those yt know most

Professe so much their ignorance

Since in their owne Soulesgreatest wits are lost

And of themselves have scarce a glance

But somewhat sure doth here obscurely lye

That above Drosse would faine advance

And PantsCatches at Eternity

As ’twere it's owne Inheritance.

A Soule selfemoved wch can dilate contract

Peircesjudges things unseene

But this grosse heape of matter canotAct

Unlesimpulsed from within.

DistanceQuantity is to bodies due

The state ofSoulescanot admit

And all ye contraries wch nature knew,

Meete there nor hurt themselves, nor it

God never made body so brightcleane

Wch goodEvill could discerne

What these words honestyhonour meane

The Soule alone knowes how to learne.

And though ’tis true shee is imprisoned here

Yet hath shee nocion of her owne

WhichSence doth only jog awakecleare

But canot at ye first make knowne.

The Soule her owne felicity hath layd

And independant on ye Sence

Seesthe weake terrors wch ye world invade

with pitty or wth negligence

So unconcernedshee lives so much above

The Rubbish of her Clotty goale

That nothing doth her Energy improve

So much as when those structures faile

Shees then a Substance Subtile strongpure

So imateriallrefined

As speakes her from ye bodies fate secure

As wholy of a different kind

Religion for reward in vaine would looke

Virtue were doom'd to misery

All Accons were like bubbles in a brooke

Were it not for Im̅ortallity

And as that Conquerour who Millions spent

Thought it to meane to give a mite

So ye worlds Judge can never be content

To bestow lessethen infinite.

Treason agst eternall Maty

must have eternall Justice too

And since unbounded love did satisfy

He will unbounded Mercy show

It is our narrow Thoughts shortens these things

By their companion flesh enclin'd

Wch feeling its owne weaknes gladly brings

The same opinion to ye mind.

We stifle our owne Sunnelive in shade

But where its beames doe once appeare

They make that Person of himselfe afrayd

And to his owne Acts most severe

For wayes to sin close,our breasts disguise

From outward search we soone may find

But who canne his owne Soule bribe or Surprize

Or sin wthout a sting behind

He thatcom̅ands himselfe is more a Prince

Then he who nacons keepes in awe

And those who yield to what theirSoulesconvince

Shall never neede another Law.

65 (5)

L’Accord du bien

Order by wch all things are made

And this greate worlds foundacon laid

Is nothing else but Harmony

where different pts are brought to agree.

As Empires are still best maintained

Those wayes wch first their greatnes gain'd

So in this universall frame

what madekeepes it is ye same

Thus all things unto peace doe tend

Even discords have it for their end

The cause why Elemts doe fight

Is but their instinct to unite.

Musicke could never please ye sence

But by united Exelence

The sweetest note wch numbers know

Ifstruckealone would tedious grow

Man,the whole world'sEpitomy

Is, by Creacon,Harmony

’Twas sin first quarrell'd in his breast

Then made him angry wth the rest.

But goodneskeepeshat Unity

And Loves its owne Society

So wellyt seldome it is knowne

One soule worth to dwell alone

And hence it is we freindship call

Not, by one virtue’s name but all

Nor is it when bad things agree

Thoughunion but conspiracy

Naturegrace such Enemies

That when one fell t'other did rise

are now by mercy even set

As Stars in constellacons mett.

If nature were it selfe a sinne

Her author god had guilty bin

But man by sin contracting staine

Shall purged from yt be cleare againe

To prove that Natures Excelent

Ev’n sin it selfe's an argumt

Therefore we natures staine deplore

Because it selfe was pure before.

And Grace destroyes not but refines

Unvailesour Reason, yn it shines

Restores what was deprest by sin

The fainting beame of god wthin

The mainespring Judgmt rectified

will all ye lesser mocons guide

To spend our labour love care

Not as things seeme but as they are

Tis fancy lost, wit throwne away

In trifles to employ yt ray

Which then doth in full lustre shine

When both ingeniousdivine.

To eyes by humours vitiated

All things seeme falsely colored

So ’tis our prejudiciall thought

That makes cleare objects seeme in fault

They scarce beleiveunited good

By whom ’twas never understood

They thinke one grace enough for one

And tis because their selves have none

We hunt Extreames run so fast

we canne no steady Judgment cast

He best surveyes the Circuit round

who stands in the midle of ye ground

That happy meane would let us see

Knowledgemeekenes may agree

And find when each thing hath its name

PassionZeale are notthe same

Who studies God, doth upwards fly

And heights still lessen to ourEye

And heknowes god himselfe will see

Vast cause for his humility

For by that search it will be knowne

There’s nothing but our will our owne

And who doth that stocke so employe

But finds more cause for shame then joy

Weknow so littleso darke

And so extinguish our owne sparke

That he who farthest here can goe

Knows nothing as he ought to know

It will wth ye most learned suit

More to enquire then to dispute

But Vapours swell wthin a cloud

And Ignorance ’tis makes us proud.

So whom their owne vaine heart belyes

Like inflammacons quickly rise

Butthat Soule wch is truly greate

Is lowest in its owne conceit

Yet whilst we hug our owne mistake

We censures but not Judgments make

And thence it is we canot see