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Who, being looked on, ducks as quickly in;
So offers he to give what she did crave;

But when her lips were ready for his pay,
He winks, and turns his lips another way.

Never did passenger in summer's heat
More thirst for drink, than she for this good turn :
Her help she sees, but help she cannot get;
She bathes in water, yet her fire must burn;

“O, pity,” ’gan she cry, “flint-hearted boy !
'Tis but a kiss I beg; why art thou coy?

“ I have been wooed, as I entreat thee now,
Even by the stern and direful god of war,
Whose sinewy neck in battle ne'er did bow,
Who conquers where he comes, in every jar;

Yet hath he been my captive and my slave,
And begged for that which thou unasked shalt have.

“Over my altars hath he hung bis lance,
His battered shield, his uncontrolled crest,
And for my sake hath learned to sport and dance,
To toy, to wanton, dally, smile, and jest ;

Scorning his churlish drum, and ensign red,
Making my arms his field, his tent my bed.

- Thus he that overruled I overswayed, Leading him prisoner in a red-rose chain :

authority. One of the familiar names of the dab-chick is di-dapper; and this was the old poetical name. Beaumont and Fletcher, in “The Woman Hater," have a comparison of the mutability of fortune with this nimble water-bird : " The misery of man may fitly be compared to a di-dapper, who, when she is under water past our sight, and indeed can scem no more to us, rises again, shakes but herself, and is the same she was."

Strong-tempered steel his stronger strength obeyed,
Yet was he servile to my coy disdain.

O, be not proud, nor brag not of thy might,
For mastering her that foiled the god of fight!

“ Touch but my lips with those fair lips of thine, (Though mine be not so fair, yet are they red.) The kiss shall be thine own as well as mine : What seest thou in the ground ? hold up thy

head; Look in mine eyeballs, there thy beauty lies: Then why not lips on lips, since eyes in eyes?

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“ Art thou ashamed to kiss? then wink again,
And I will wink, so shall the day seem night:
Love keeps his revels where there are but twain ;
Be bold to play, our sport is not in sight :

These blue-veined violets whereon we lean
Never can blab, nor know not what we mean.

“The tender spring upon thy tempting lip
Shows thee unripe ; yet mayst thou well be tasted ;
Make use of time, let not advantage slip;
Beauty within itself should not be wasted:

Fair flowers that are not gathered in their prime
Rot and consume themselves in little time.

“ Were I hard-favored, foul, or wrinkled-old,
Ill-nurtured, crooked, churlish, harsh in voice,
O’er-worn, despised, rheumatic, and cold,
Thick-sighted, barren, lean, and lacking juice,

Then mightst thou pause, for then I were not for

thee;

But having no defects, why dost abhor me

“ Thou canst not see one wrinkle in my brow; Mine eyes are gray,' and bright, and quick in turn

ing; My beauty as the spring doth yearly grow, My Aesh is soft and plump, my marrow burning;

My smooth moist hand, were it with thy hand felt, Would in thy palm dissolve, or seem to melt.

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“ Bid me discourse, I will enchant thine ear,
Or, like a fairy, trip upon the green,
Or, like a nymph, with long dishevelled hair,
Dance on the sands, and yet no footing seen:

Love is a spirit all compact of fire,
Not gross to sink, but light, and will aspire.

“ Witness this primrose bank whereon I lie ;
These forceless flowers like sturdy trees support me;
Two strengthless doves will draw me through the sky,
From morn to night, even where I list to sport me:

Is love so light, sweet boy, and may it be
That thou shouldst think it heavy unto thee?

• Is thine own heart to thine own face affected ?
Can thy right hand seize love upon thy left?
Then woo thyself, be of thyself rejected,
Steal thine own freedom, and complain on theft.

Narcissus so himself himself forsook,
And died to kiss his shadow in the brook.

· Torches are made to light, jewels to wear, Dainties to taste, fresh beauty for the use,

i Gray is said to be here used as blue. We have subsequently

“ Her two blue windows faintly she upheaveth." But the eye-lids are the blue windows."

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Herbs for their smell, and sappy plants to bear;
Things growing to themselves are growth's abuse ,

Seeds spring from seeds, and beauty breedeth beauty;
Thou wast begot, - to get it is thy duty.

“Upon the earth's increase why shouldst thou feed,
Unless the earth with thy increase be fed ?
By law of Nature thou art bound to breed,
That thine may live, when thou thyself art dead

And so in spite of death thou dost survive,
In that thy likeness still is left alive."

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By this the love-sick queen began to sweat,
For, where they lay, the shadow had forsook them,
And Titan, 'tired' in the midday heat,
With burning eye did hotly overlook them ;

Wishing Adonis had his team to guide,
So he were like him, and by Venus' side.

And now Adonis, with a lazy spright,
And with a heavy, dark, disliking eye,
His lowering brows o'erwhelming his fair sight,
Like misty vapors when they blot the sky,

Souring his cheeks, cries, “ Fie, no more of love'
The sun doth burn my face ; I must remove."

“ Ah me,” quoth Venus, "young, and so unkind !
What bare excuses mak'st thou to begone!
I'll sigh celestial breath, whose gentle wind
Shall cool the heat of this descending sun;

I'll make a shadow for thee of my hairs ;
If they burn too, I'll quench them with my tears

1 Tired, attired.

« The sun that shines from heaven shines but warm,
And lo, 1 lie between that sun and thee;
The heat I have from thence doth little harm,
Thine eye darts forth the fire that burneth me;

And were not immortal, life were done,
Between this heavenly and earthly sun.

“ Art thou obdurate, flinty, hard as steel,
Nay, more than flint, for stone at rain relenteth?
Art thou a woman's son, and canst not feel
What 'tis to love ? how want of love tormenteth ?

O, had thy mother borne so hard a mind,
She had not brought forth thee, but died unkind.

“ What am I, that thou shouldst contemno me this?
Or what great danger dwells upon my suit ?
What were thy lips the worse for one poor kiss ?
Speak, fair; but speak fair words, or else be mute:

Give me one kiss, I'll give it thee again,
And one for interest, if thou wilt have twain.

“ Fie, lifeless picture, cold and senseless stone,
Well-painted idol, image dull and dead,
Statue contenting but the eye alone,
Thing like a man, but of no woman bred ;

Thou art no man, though of a man's complexion,
For men will kiss even by their own direction.”

This said, impatience chokes her pleading tongue, And swelling passion doth provoke a pause;

1 Unkind. Milton applies the same epithet, in the same way, in his “ Doctrine of Divorce : ” “ The desire and longing to put off an unkindly solitariness by uniting another body, but not without a fit soul, to his, in the cheerful society of wedlock.”

2 Contemn is here used in the sense of throw aside ; as Malone explains it, “ contemptuously refuse this favor.”

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