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Things are distinct, and must the same appear Thy teeth in white do Leda's swan exceed;
Close at thy lips, and, snatching it from thence, Whilst you smell nought at all, I may presume Bear it to Heaven, where 't is Jove's frankincense. You have that sense imperfect: so you may Fair goddess, since thy feature makes thee one, Affect a sad, merry, or humorous play;
Yet be not such for these respects alone ;
Amongst the myrtles as I walk'd,
Love and my sighs thus intertalk'd: For men of better palate will by it
“ Tell me, (said I in deep distress) Take the just elevation of your wit.
Where may I find my shepherdess?"
There thou mayst find her lip, her cheek.
“ In yon enamel'd pansy by,
Such sweets as in her bosom dwell."
But others, who were proof 'gainst love, did sit I went to pluck them one by one,
To make of parts a union;
But on a sudden all was gone.
Fond man, resemblances of thee:
Er'n in the twinkling of an eye:
And all thy hopes of her shall wither, Than the dull issue of the lawful sheets.
Like these short sweets thus knit together!.”
My first love, whom all beauties did adorn,
Firing my heart, supprest it with her scorn; Fresh roses, or thy teeth of ivory:
Sunlike to tinder in my breast it lies,
Each wanton eye now kindles my desire,
As those that in consumptions hunger most; Holds nothing earthly, but is all divine.
And now my wand'ring thoughts are uot confind Thy tresses are those rays that do arise,
Unto one woman, but to woman-kind :
1 This little poem, with the several little love The perfect crimson that thy cheek doth cloath verses and songs that follow, fully evince our poet's (But only that it far exceeds them both)
superior genius on the subject of love. We rish Aurora's blush resembles, or that red
he had never sacrificed at any shrine but the shrine That Iris strnts in when her mantle 's spread; in Cyprus.
This for her shape 1 love; that for her face ; Ask me no more, whither doth haste This for ber gesture or some other grace;
The nightingale, when May is past; And where I done of these do use to find,
For in your sweet dividing throat choose there by the kernel, not the rind : She winters, and keeps warın her nole. And so I hope, since first my hopes are gone, To find in inany what I lost in one;
Ask me no more, where those stars light, And, like to merchants after some great loss, That downwards fall in dead of night; Trade by retail, that cannot now in gross.
For in your eyes they sit, and there the fault is hers that made me go astray;
Fixed become, as in their sphere.
For unto you at last she flies,
SONG, lany less faces in her face are born: hus, like to tinder, am I prone to catch
Would you know what 's soft, I dare ach falling sparkle, fit for any match.
Not bring you to the down or air;
Nor, to please your sense, bring forth SIGHT OF A GENTLEWOMAN'S FACE
Bruised nard, or what's more worth.
IN THE WATER.
SAND still, you Aoods, do not deface
Or, on food were your thoughts plac'd,
o winds but lovers' sighs blow here,
THE HUE AND CRY.
o crystal then in baste congeal,
malice may despise ;
In Love's name, you are charg'd hereby,
Her hair a net of beams would prove,
Ask me no more where Jove bestows,
If you let her go, she may
Sure that mistress, to whose beauty
TO HIS MISTRESS CONFINED.
O THINK not, Phæbe, cause a cloud
My wand'ring eye
Rather be kind, and this eclipse
For we shall meet
When thou dost spy
For I am hid within a flame,
To let thee see
When each sad tone
Wheu thou dost please, they shall rebound
Of thy own voice;
Love can make old, as well as Time;
If he dare prove
In her fair cheeks two pits do lie,
Come then and kill me with thy eye,
For if thou let me live, I die. When I behold those lips again Reviving what those eyes have slain With kisses sweet, whose balsam pure Love's wounds, as soon as made, can cure ; Methinks 't is sickness to be sound, And there's no health to such a wound.
Come then, &c.
When in her chaste breast I behold, Those downy mounts of snow ne'er cold, And those blest hearts her beauty kills, Reviv'd by climbing those fair bills; Methinks there 's life in such a death, And so t' expire inspires new breath,
Come then, &c.
Nymph, since no death is deadly, where
Come then and kill me with thy eye,
THE PRIMROSE, Ask me why I send you here This firstling of the infant year; Ask me why I send to you Tbis primrose all bepearld with dew; I straight will whisper in your ears, The sweets of love are wash'd with tears: Ask me why this flow'r doth show So yellow, green, and sickly too; Ask me why the stalk is weak, And bending, yet it doth not break; I must tell you, these discover What doubts and fears are in a lover.
TO HIS MISTRESS.
A CARVER, having lov'd too long in vain,
Hew'd out the portraiture of Venus' son In marble rock, upon the which did rain
Small drizzling drops that from a fount did run;' Imagining the drops would either wear
His fury out, or quench bis living flame: But when he saw it bootless did appear,
He swore the water did augment the same. So I, that seek in verse to carve thee out,
Hoping thy beauty will my flame allay, Viewing my lines impolish'd all throughout,
Find my will rather than my love obey; That, with the carver, I my work do blame, Finding it still th' augmenter of my flame.
THE TINDER. Of what mould did Nature frame me? Or was it her intent to sbaine me, That no woman can come near me, Fair, but her I court to hear me?
Venus must lose her title now,
And leave to brag of Cupid's bow;
Silly queen! Fond man, that hop'st to catch that face
She hath but one, but I can spy Vith those false colours, whose short grace
Ten thousand Cupids in thy eye. erves but to show the lookers on he faults of thy presumption ;
Nor may the Sun behold our bliss, Ir at the least to let us see,
For sure thy eyes do dazzle his; That is divine, but yet not she:
If thou fear ay you could imitate the rays
That he ’ll betray thee with his light, * those eyes that out-shine the day's;
Let me eclipse thee from his sight. #p counterfeit, in red and white, hat most uncounterfeited light
And while I shade thee from his eye, of her complexion ; yet canst thou,
Oh let me hear thee gently cry, Great master though thou be) tell how
Celia yields. o print a virtue? Then desist;
Maids often lose their maidenhead, 'his fair your artifice hath miss'd:
Ere they set foot in nuptial bed. ou should have mark'd how she begins o grow in virtue, not in sins; istead of that same rosy dye, ou should have drawn out Modesty, Vhose beauty sits enthroned there,
ON A DAMASK ROSE nd learns to look and blush at her. is can you colour just the same,
STICKING UPON A LADY'S BREAST. Then virtue blushes ; or when shame, 'hen sickness, and when innocence,
Let pride grow big, my rose, and let the clear
And damask colour of thy leaves appear. news pale or white unto the sense?
Let scent and looks be sweet, and bless that hand an sucb coarse varnish e'er be said o imitate her white and red?
That did transplant thee to that sacred land. his may do well elsewhere in Spain,
O happy thou that in that garden rests,
That paradise between that lady's breasts: mong those faces dy'd in grain;
There 's an eternal spring; there shalt thou lie, » you may thrive, and wbat you do rove the best picture of the two.
Betwixt two lilly mounts, and never die: esides (if all I hear be true)
There shalt thou spring among the fertile vallies, Sis taken ill by some, that you
By buds, like thee, that grow in midst of allies. bould be so insolently vain,
There none dare pluck thee, for that place is such, s to contrive all that rich gain
That but a god divine there 's none dare touch; ito one tablet, which alone
if any but approach, straight doth arise say teach us superstition;
A blushing lightning-Nash, and blasts his eyes.
There, 'stead of rain, shall living fountains flow; istructing our amazed eyes ' adınire and worship imag'ries,
For wind, her fragrant breath for ever blow.
Nor now, as erst, one sun shall en thee shine, uch as quickly might out-shine
But those two glorious suns, her eyes divine. ome new saint, wer 't allow'd a shrine,
O then what monarch would not think 't a grace, nd turn each wand'ring looker-on
To leave his regal throne to have thy place? ito a new Pygmalion.
Myself, to gain thy blessed seat, do vow Cet your art cannot equalize
Would be transforın'd into a rose as thou. This picture in her lover's eyes: lis eyes the pencils are, which limb ser truly, as her's copy him; lis heart the tablet, which alone s for that portrait the tru'st stone ;
No more shall meads be deck'd with flowers,
Nor warbling birds delight to sing;
Nor April violets paint the grove;
If I forsake my Celia's love.
The fish shall in the ocean burn,
And fountains sweet shall bitter turn;
The huinble oak no flood shall know Mortals enjoy some happiness.
When floods shall highest hills o'erflow; Mars would disdain his mistress' charms,
Black Lethe shall oblivion leare;
If e'er my Celia 1 deceive.
Love shall his bow and shaft lay by,
And Venus' doves want wings to fly;
The Sun refuse to show his light,
OFT when I look, I may descry
A little face peep through that eye : Love shall no more inhabit Earth,
Sure that's the boy, which wisely chose Nor lovers more shall love for worth;
His throne among such beams as those,
Which, if his quiver chance to fall,
May serve for darts to kill withal.
When on fair Celia I did spy
A wounded heart of stone,
The wound had almost made me cry, Fate 's now grown merciful to men,
“ Sure this heart was iny own:" Turning disease to bliss : For had not kind rheum rex'd me then
But when I saw it was enthron'd I might not Celia kiss.
In her celestial breast, Physicians, you are now my scorn;
O then! I it no longer own'd,
For mine was ne'er so blest.
Yet if in highest Heavens do shine
Each constant martyr's heart; Patch up a body for a time, a
Then she may well give rest to mine,
That for her sake doth smart:
Where, seated in so high a bliss,
Though wounded, it shall live:
Death enters not in Paradise;
The place free life doth give.
Or, if the place less sacred were,
Did but her saving eye
Then should I never die.
Slight balms may heal a slighter sore;
No medicine less divine I have some idol lately fram'd;
Cau ever hope for to restore
A wounded heart like mine.
TO MY LORD ADMIRAL',
ON HIS LATE SICKNESS AND RECOVERY.
With joy like ours, the Thracian youth inrads That mask put on thou mad'st for me?
Orpheus returning from th' Elysian shade,
Embrace the hero, and his stay implore, I dare not call those childish fears,
Make it their public suit he would do more Coming from love, much less from thee,
Desert them so, and for his spouse's sake, Put wash away with frequent tears
His vanish'd love, tempt the Lethæau lake : This counterfeit idolatry;
The ladies too, the brightest of that time, And henceforth kneel at ne'er a shrine,
Ambitious all his lofiy bed to climb, To blind the world, but only thine.
Their doubtful hopes withi expectation feed,
Which shall the fair Eurydice succeed; "The pool of Bethesda near Jerusalem, which Euridice, for whom bis numerous moan was frequented by all kinds of diseased people. Through all the air; his sounding strings dilate
Makes list’ning trees and savage mountains gTUAI waiting for the moving of the waters. angel,” says St. John, “ went down at a certain Sorrow like that which touch'd our hearts of lats; season into the pool, and troubled the water: whosoever then first after the troubling of the water The duke of Buckingham, the unhappy fastepped in, was made whole of whatsoever disease rourite of Charles I. by whom he was appointin he bad."
Jord bigh admiral of Englanri.
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