Had it any been but she,

And that very Face,
There had been at least ere this

A dozen dozen in her Place.

Love turn'd to Hatred

I will not love one Minute more, I swear,
No, not a Minute ; nor a Sigh or Tear
Thou gettist from me, or one kind look again,
Though thou should'st court me to’t, and would'st

begin.
I will not think of thee, but as Men do
Of Debts and Sins, and then I'll curse thee too.
For thy sake Women shall be now to me
Less welcome than as Midnight Ghosts shall be :
I'll hate so perfectly, that it shall be
Treason to love that Man that loves a she;
Nay, I will hate the very Good, I swear,
That's in thy Sex, because it doth lie there ;
Their very virtue, Grace, Discourse and Wit,
And all for thee; what, wilt thou love me yet ?

The Careless Lover

NEVER believe me if I love,
Or know what 'tis, or mean to prove ;
And yet in Faith, I lie, I do,
And she's extremely handsome too,

She's fair, she's wondrous fair,
But I care not who know it :
Ere I'll die for Love, I'll fairly forego it.

This Heat of Hope or Cold or Fear
My foolish Heart could never bear :

One Sigh imprison'd ruins more
Than Earthquakes have done heretofore :

She's fair, etc.

When I am hungry, I do eat
And cut no Fingers 'stead of meat ;
Nor, with much Gazing on her Face
Do e'er rise hungry from the Place.

She's fair, etc.

A gentle Round fill'd to the Brink
To this and t'other Friend I drink;
And when 'tis nam'd another's Health,
I never make it hers by Stealth.

She's fair, etc.

Blackfriars to me and old Whitehall
Is even as much as is the Fall
Of Fountains on a pathless Grove,
And nourishes as much my Love.

She's fair, etc.

а

I visit, talk, do Business, play,
And, for a need, laugh out a Day:
Who does not thus in Cupid's school,
He makes not Love, but plays the Fool.

She's fair, etc.

Love and Debt alike

Troublesome

This one Request I make to him that sits the Clouds

above, That I were freely out of Debt, as I am out of Love ; Then for to dance, to drink and sing, I should be very

willing, I should not owe a Lass a Kiss, nor ne'er a Knave a Shilling

'Tis only being in Love and Debt that breaks us of

our Rest, And he that is quite out of both, of all the World is

blest : He sees the Golden Age, wherein all Things were

free and common, He eats, he drinks, he takes his Rest, he fears no Man

or Woman. Though Croesus compassed great Wealth, yet he still

craved more, He was as needy a Beggar still, as goes from Door to

Door. Though Ovid were a merry Man, Love ever kept him

sad, He was as far from Happiness as one that is stark

mad. Our Merchant, he in Goods is rich, and full of Gold

and Treasure, But when he thinks upon his Debts, that Thought de

stroys his Pleasure. Our Courtier thinks that he's preferr'd, whom every

Man envies ; When Love so rumbles in his Pate, no Sleep comes in

his Eyes. Our Gallant's Case is worst of all, he lies so just be

twixt them, For he's in Love and he's in Debt, and knows not

which most vex'th him. But he that can eat Beef and feed on Bread which is

so brown, May satisfy his Appetite, and owe no man a Crown : And he that is content with Lasses clothed in plain

Woollen, May cool his Heat in every Place, he need not to be

sullen, Nor sigh for Love of Lady fair ; for this each wise

Man knows : As good Stuff under Flannel lies as under silken

Clothes.

Love's Representation

LEANING her Head upon my Breast There on Love's Bed she lay to rest ; My panting Heart rock'd her asleep, My heedful Eyes the Watch did keep ; Then Love by me being harbour'd there, In Hope to be his Harbinger, Desire his Rival kept the Door, For this of him I begged no more, But that our Mistress to entertain, Some pretty Fancy he would frame, And represent it in a Dream Of which myself should give the Theme. Then first these Thoughts I bid him show Which only he and I did know, Array'd in Duty and Respect, And not in Fancies that reflect, Then those of Value next present, Approv'd by all the World's Consent ; But to distinguish mine asunder, Apparelld they must be in Wonder. Such a Device then I would have As Service, not Reward, should crave, Attir'd in spotless Innocence, Not Self-respect, nor no Pretence ; Then such a Faith I would have shown And heretofore was never known. Cloth'd with a constant, clear Intent, Professing always as it meant; And if Love no such Garments have, My Mind a Wardrobe is so brave, That there sufficient he may see To clothe Impossibility. Then beamy Fetters he shall find, By Admiration subtly twined, That will keep fast the wanton'st Thought That e'er Imagination wrought :

There he shall find of Joy a Chain,
Framed by Despair of her Disdain
So curiously that it can't tie
The smallest Hopes that Thoughts now spy.
There Acts, as glorious as the Sun,
Are by her Veneration spun,
In one of which I would have brought
A pure, unspotted, abstract Thought.
Considering her as she is good,
Not in her Frame of Flesh and Blood;
These Atoms, then, all in her Sight,
I bade him join, that so he might
Discern between true Love's Creation
And that Love's Form that's now in Fashion.
Love, granting unto my Request,
Began to labour in my Breast;
But with this Motion he did make,
It heaved so high that she did wake,
Blush'd at the Favour she had done,
Then smiled and then away did run.

To a Lady who forbade to

love before Company

a

WHAT! no more Favours ? Not a Ribbon more,
Not Fan nor Muff to hold as heretofore ?
Must all the little Blisses then be left,
And what was once Love's Gift, become our Theft ?
May we not look ourselves into a Trance,
Teach our Souls Parley at our Eyes, not glance,
Not touch the Hand, not by soft Wringing there
Whisper a Love that only yes can hear?
Not free a Sigh, a Sigh that's there for you?
Dear, must I love you, and not love you too?
Be wise, nice, fair : for sooner shall they trace
The featherd Choristers from Place to Place,