"How like a jade he stood, tied to the tree,
Servilely mastered with a leathern rein!

But when he saw his love, his youth's fair fee,
He held such petty bondage in disdain ;

Throwing the base thong from his bending crest,
Enfranchising his mouth, his back, his breast.

"Who sees his true love in her naked bed,
Teaching the sheets a whiter hue than white,
But, when his glutton eye so full hath fed,
His other agents aim at like delight?

Who is so faint that dare not be so bold
To touch the fire, the weather being cold?

"Let me excuse thy courser, gentle boy; And learn of him, I heartily beseech thee, To take advantage on presented joy;

Though I were dumb, yet his proceedings teach thee. O, learn to love; the lesson is but plain,

And, once made perfect, never lost again."

"I know not love," quoth he, "nor will not know it, Unless it be a boar, and then I chase it:

'Tis much to borrow, and I will not owe it;

My love to love is love but to disgrace it;

For I have heard it is a life in death,

That laughs, and weeps, and all but with a breath.

Who wears a garment shapeless and unfinished?
Who plucks the bud before one leaf put forth?
If springing things be any jot diminished,
They wither in their prime, prove nothing worth:

The colt that's backed and burthened being young
Loseth his pride, and never waxeth strong.

"You hurt my hand with wringing; let us part,
And leave this idle theme, this bootless chat:
Remove your siege from my unyielding heart;
To love's alarm it will not ope the gate.

Dismiss your vows, your feigned tears, your flat

tery;

For where a heart, is hard, they make no battery."

"What! canst thou talk," quoth she, "hast thou a tongue?

O, would thou hadst not, or I had no hearing!
Thy mermaid's voice1 hath done me double wrong;
I had my load before, now pressed with bearing:
Melodious discord, heavenly tine harsh sound-
ing,

Ear's deep-sweet music, and heart's deep-sore wounding.

"Had I no eyes, but ears, my ears would love
That inward beauty and invisible;

Or, were I deaf, thy outward parts would move
Each part in me that were but sensible :

Though neither eyes nor ears, to hear nor see,
Yet should I be in love, by touching thee.

"Say, that the sense of feeling were bereft me,
And that I could not see, nor hear, nor touch,
And nothing but the very smell were left me,
Yet would my love to thee be still as much;

1 Mermaid's voice. Mermaid and siren were formerly used as synonymous. So in The Comedy of Errors, Act III. Scene II. :

"O, train me not, sweet mermaid, with thy note,

To drown me in thy sister's flood of tears;
Sing, siren, for thyself, and I will dote."

For from the still'tory of thy face excelling

Comes breath perfumed, that breedeth love by smelling.

"But O, what banquet wert thou to the taste,
Being nurse and feeder of the other four!
Would they not wish the feast might ever last,
And bid Suspicion double-lock the door?

Lest Jealousy, that sour unwelcome guest,
Should, by his stealing in, disturb the feast."

Once more the ruby-colored portal opened,
Which to his speech did honey passage yield;
Like a red morn, that ever yet betokened
Wreck to the seaman, tempest to the field,

Sorrow to shepherds, woe unto the birds,
Gusts and foul flaws1 to herdmen and to herds.

This ill presage advisedly she marketh :
Even as the wind is hushed before it raineth,
Or as the wolf doth grin before he barketh,
Or as the berry breaks before it staineth,
Or like the deadly bullet of a gun,

His meaning struck her ere his words begun.

And at his look she flatly falleth down,
For looks kill love, and love by looks reviveth:
A smile recures the wounding of a frown,
But blessed bankrupt, that by love so thriveth!
The silly boy, believing she is dead,

Claps her pale cheek, till clapping makes it

red;

1 Flaws is here used in the sense of violent blasts.

And all-amazed brake off his late intent,
For sharply he did think to reprehend her,
Which cunning love did wittily prevent:
Fair fall the wit that can so well defend her!
For on the grass she lies as she were slain,
Till his breath breatheth life in her again.

He wrings her nose, he strikes her on the cheeks
He bends her fingers, holds her pulses hard;
He chafes her lips, a thousand ways he seeks
To mend the hurt that his unkindness marred;
He kisses her; and she, by her good will,
Will never rise so he will kiss her still.

The night of sorrow now is turned to day :
Her two blue windows' faintly she upheaveth,
Like the fair sun, when in his fresh array
He cheers the morn, and all the world relieveth:
And as the bright sun glorifies the sky,
So is her face illumined with her eye;

Whose beams upon his hairless face are fixed,
As if from thence they borrowed all their shine.
Were never four such lamps together mixed,
Had not his clouded with his brows' repine;

2

1 The windows are doubtless the eyelids, but the epithet blue is somewhat startling. We must remember that Shakspeare has described violets as

"Sweeter than the lids of Juno's eyes."

The propriety of this epithet is fully noticed by us in Cymbeline Act 11. Scene II.

2 Repine. Used as a substantive. Chaucer employs pine in the

same manner.

But hers, which through the crystal tears gave light, Shone like the moon in water seen by night.1

“O, where am I?" quoth she, "in earth or heaven, Or in the ocean drenched, or in the fire? What hour is this? or morn or weary even?

Do I delight to die, or life desire?

But now I lived, and life was death's annoy;
But now I died, and death was lively joy.

“O, thou didst kill me ; — kill me once again:
Thy eyes' shrewd tutor, that hard heart of thine,
Hath taught them scornful tricks, and such disdain
That they have murdered this poor heart of mine;
And these mine eyes, true leaders to their queen,
But for thy piteous lips no more had seen.

"Long may they kiss each other, for this cure!
O, never let their crimson liveries wear!
And as they last, their verdure still endure,
To drive infection from the dangerous year!
That the star-gazers, having writ on death,
May say the plague is banished by thy breath.

“Pure lips, sweet seals in my soft lips imprinted, What bargains may I make, still to be sealing?

1 In Shakspeare's early plays we frequently meet the same image that is found in these early poems. Thus in Love's Labor's Lost:

"Nor shines the silver moon one half so bright
Through the transparent bosom of the deep

As doth thy face through tears of mine give light;
Thou shin'st in every tear that I do weep."

2 The custom of strewing houses with fragrant herbs was universal at a period when the constant recurrence of the plague habitnated families to the use of what they considered preventives. It