O then my joys,

So long distraught, shall rest Reposed soft in thy chaste breast, Exempt from all annoys.

You had the power

My wand'ring thoughts first to restrain,
You first did hear my love speak plain;

A child before,

Now it is grown

Confirm'd, do you it keep:

And let 't safe in your bosom sleep,

There ever made your own!

T. Campion.

CCXXXII

That Time and absence proves,

Rather helps than hurts to loves.

ABSENCE, hear thou my protestation,
Against thy strength,

Distance and length:

Do what thou can for alteration,

For hearts of truest mettle

Absence doth join and time doth settle.

Who loves a mistress of such quality,

He soon hath found

Affection's ground

Beyond time, place, and all mortality.
To hearts that cannot vary

Absence is present, Time doth tarry.

ABSENCE

My senses want their outward motions

Which now within

Reason doth win,

Redoubled in her secret notions :

Like rich men that take pleasure

In hiding more than handling treasure.

By absence this good means I gain,
That I can catch her

Where none doth watch her,

In some close corner of my brain:
There I embrace and kiss her,

And so I both enjoy and miss her.

J. Donne.

205

CCXXXIII

SWEET love, renew thy force: be it not said
Thine edge shall blunter be than appetite,
Which but to-day by feeding is allay'd,
To-morrow sharpen'd in his former might:

So, love, be thou: although to-day thou fill
Thy hungry eyes even till they wink with fulness,
To-morrow see again, and do not kill

The spirit of love with a perpetual dulness.

Let this sad interim like the ocean be

Which parts the shore, where two contracted new Come daily to the banks, that, when they see Return of love, more bless'd may be the view:

Or call it winter, which, being full of care,

Makes summer's welcome thrice more wish'd, more

rare.

CCXXXIV

Shakespeare.

BEING your slave, what should I do but tend
Upon the hours and times of your desire?
I have no precious time at all to spend,
Nor services to do, till you require.

Nor dare I chide the world-without-end hour
Whilst I, my sovereign, watch the clock for you,
Nor think the bitterness of absence sour
When you have bid your servant once adieu :

Nor dare I question with my jealous thought
Where you may be, or your affairs suppose,
But, like a sad slave, stay and think of nought
Save, where you are how happy you make those!

So true a fool is love, that in your will
Though you do any thing, he thinks no ill.

Shakespeare.

CCXXXV

COMPLAINT OF THE ABSENCE OF HER

LOVER BEING UPON THE SEA

O HAPPY dames! that may embrace
The fruit of your delight,

Help to bewail the woful case

And eke the heavy plight

COMPLAINT OF ABSENCE OF HER LOVER 207

Of me that wonted to rejoice

The fortune of my pleasant choice:
Good ladies, help to fill my mourning voice.

In ship, freight with rememberance
Of thoughts and pleasures past,
He sails that hath in governance
My life while it will last:

With scalding sighs, for lack of gale,
Furthering his hope, that is his sail,
Toward me, the sweet port of his avail.

Alas! how oft in dreams I see
Those eyes that were my food;
Which sometime so delighted me,
That yet they do me good :
Wherewith I wake with his return

Whose absent flame did make me burn:

But when I find the lack, Lord! how I mourn!

When other lovers in arms across

Rejoice their chief delight,
Drowned in tears, to mourn my loss

I stand the bitter night

In my window where I may see

Before the winds how the clouds flee:

Lo! what a mariner love hath made me !

And in green waves when the salt flood
Doth rise by rage of wind,

A thousand fancies in that mood

Assail my restless mind.

1

Alas! now drencheth 1 my sweet foe,
That with the spoil of my heart did go,
And left me; but alas! why did he so?

And when the seas wax calm again
To chase from me annoy,

My doubtful hope doth cause me plain;
So dread cuts off my joy.

Thus is my wealth mingled with woe

And of each thought a doubt doth grow;

-Now he comes! Will he come? Alas! no, no.
Earl of Surrey.

CCXXXVI

VALEDICTION, FORBIDDING MOURNING

As virtuous men pass mildly away,
And whisper to their souls to go;
While some of their sad friends do say,
Now his breath goes, and some say, No;

So let us melt, and make no noise,

No tear-floods nor sigh-tempests move; "Twere profanation of our joys

To tell the laity our love.

Moving of th' earth brings harms and fears,
Men reckon what it did and meant;
But trepidations of the spheres,

Though greater far, are innocent.

1 ¿,e, is drenched or drowned.