The Constant Lover   DIARY-A

Out upon it, I have lov’d
Three whole days together;
And am like to love three more,
If it prove fair weather.

Time shall molt away his wings
Ere he shall discover
In such whole wide world again
Such a constant lover.

But the spite on’t is, no praise
Is due at all to me:
Love with me had made no stays
Had it any been but she.

Had it any been but she
And that very face,
There had been at least ere this
A dozen dozen in her place


Sir John Suckling was an English, Cavalier poet.  His mother died when he was just a toddler. His father was the Comptroller of James the First’s household. Suckling matriculated at Trinity College in 1623 but left in 1629 before he got his degree. He studied law at Grey’s Inn but after his father’s death, he also abandoned that pursuit.  He was just a young man when in inherited a large estate from his father.  At age 18, he was pursuing a military and an ambassadorial career and was knighted for those efforts.

“He returned to the English court in 1632 where through his wealth and charm he was known as an ‘elegant and popular gallant and gamester, credited with having invented the game of cribbage.’ (MacLean 252)”

Crofts writes:
“Suckling’s verse, of course, smacks of the court: it is witty, decorous, sometimes naughty; all requisites for the courtier poet. But these qualities alone would not have sufficed to “perpetuate his memory.” It should be remembered that the court swarmed with now-forgotten versifiers. Suckling has his own voice, a deft conversational ease mixed at times with a certain hauteur or swagger, which qualities were not incompatible with his high birth and military occupation…. Though his oeuvre is comparatively small, Suckling is an exemplary lyric poet, as well as one of the most vivid personalities of his age.” (Crofts 51) 

He was intimate with Ben Jonson,Thomas CarewRichard LovelaceThomas Nabbes, John Hales and Sir William Davenant.

“Suckling had only a small stock of words, phrases, and images, which he used repeatedly” (Beaurline). Although his critical reception is not as great as expected, he remains an important piece in British literary history. Suckling’s place “in some Parnassian hierarchy of seventeenth-century poets…is among the first poets of the second rank” (Squier 156). 

So, not unlike myself, he was known for some Wit, some Charm, some Talent .  He liked Farts, Love, Intrigue, Gambling, Writing, and had a penchant for Lost Causes.

Purportedly in despair, shamed, exiled and facing poverty, he died at his own hand by taking poison.

Something I’ve yet to achieve.

He has always been fascinating to me.  Libertine1