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POEMS, SONGS, SONNETS. 37
Are sun, moon, or stars, by law forbidden
To smile where they list, or lend away their light?
Are birds divorc'd, or are they chidden itf
If they leave their mate, or lie abroad all night?
Beasts do no jointures lose
Tho' they new lovers choose;
But we are made worse than those.
Whoe'er rigg'd fair ships to lie in harbours,
And not to seek lands, or not to deal with all?
Or build fair houses, set trees and arbours,
Only to lock up, or else to let them fall?
Good is not good unless
A thousand it possess,
But doth waste with greediness. 21
Deab Love! for nothing less than thee
For reason, much too strong for phantasy,
Volum» Jf. Q
As lightning or a taper's light,
(For thou lov'st truth) an angel at first sight;
Coming and staying shew'd thee thee,
But rising makes me doubt that now
Thou art not thou.
That Love is weak where Fear's as strong as ha;
'Tis not all spirit, pure and brave,
If mixture it of fear, shame, honour, have.
Perchance as torches, which muit ready be,
Men light and put out, so thou deal'st with me;
Thou cam'st to kindle, goest to come: then I
Will dream that hope again, but else would die. jo
A VALEDICTION OF WEEPING.
Let me pour forth
My tears before thy face whilst I stay here,
For thy face coins them, and thy stamp' they bear;
And by this mintage they are something worth,
POEMS, SONGS, SONNETS. JO
For thus they be • -..
Pregnant of thee:
Fruits of much grief they are emblems of more,
When a tear falls, that thou fall'st, which it bore;
So thou and I are nothing then when on a diverse shore.
On a round ball J#
A workman, that hath copies by, can lay
An Europe, Afrique, and an Asia,
And quickly make that which was nothing all:
So doth each tear
Which thou doth wear
A globe, yea, world, by that impression grow.
Till thy tears mixt with mine do overflow
This world, by waters sen? from thee, my heav'n dis
[solved so. O more than moon.
Draw not up seas (b drown me in thy sphere; 20
Weep me not dead in thine.arms, but forbear
To do me more harm than it purposeth:
D'nne-1 , . .,Dij
Oome that have deeper digg'd Love's mine than I,
Say where his centric happiness doth lie:
I've lov'd, and got, and told,
Bui should I love, get, tell, till I were old,
I should not find that hidden mystery:
Oh! 'tis imposture all:
And as no chymic yet th' elixir got,
But glorifies his pregnant pot,
If by the way to bim befall
Some odoriferous thing, or medicinal, 10
So lovers dream a rich and long delight,
But get a winter-seeming summer's night.
Our ease, our thrift, our honour, and our day,
Shall we for this vain bubble's shadow pay?
Ends love in this, that my man
Can be as happy as I can? If he can
Endure the short scorn of a bridegroom's play,
That loving wretch that swears
*Tis not the bodies marry, but the minds,
Which he in her angelic finds, 20
Would swear as justly that he hears,
In that day's rude hoarse minstrelsy the spheres.
Hope not for mind in women; at their best
Sweetness and wit they're but mummy possest. 34
"^W Hoever guesses, thinks, or dreams, he knows
Madness his sorrow, gout his cramp, may he
Of conscience, but of fame, and be ... .' ,..
Anguish'd, not that't was sin, but that't was she:
May he dream treason, and believe that he
Inherit nothing but his infamy: ...
Or may he so long parasites have fed,