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Come, live with me, add be my love,
And we will some new pleasures prove.
Of golden sands and crystal brooks,"
With silken lines and silver hooks.

There will the river whisp'ring run,
Warm'd by thine eyes more than the sun;
And there th' inamour'd fish will play,
Begging themselves they may betray.

When thou wilt swim in that live bath,

Each fish, which every channel hath, sfc

Will amorously to thee swim,

Gladder to catch thee than thou him.

If thou to be so seen art loth
By sun or moon, thou dark'nest both;
And if myself have leave to see,
I need not there light, having thee.

Let others freeze with angling reeds,

And cut their legs with shells and weeds,

Or treacherously poor fish beset

With strangling snare or winding net: 20


Let coarse bold hands from slimy nest
The bedded fish in banks out-wrest,
Or curious traitors sleave silk flies,
Bewitch poor fishes' wand'ring eyes:

For thee, thou need'st no such deceit.

For thou thyself art thine own Bait;

That fish that is not catch'd thereby,

Alas! is wiser far than I. 2.8


When by thy scorn, O, Murd'ress! I am dead,

And thou shalt think thee free

Of all solicitation from me.

Then shall my Ghost come to thy bed,

And thee, feign'd Vestal, in worse arms shall see;

Then thy sick taper will begin to wink,

And he, whose thou art, being tir'd before,

Will, if thou stir, or pinch to wake him, think

Thou call'st for more,

And in a false sleep even from thee shrink. 10

And then, poor aspin Wretch! neglected, thou,

Bath'd in a cold quicksilver sweat, wilt lie,

A verier Ghost than I.

What I will say I will not tell thee now,

Lest that preserve thee; and since my love is spent,

I'd rather thou shouldst painfully repent

Than by my threat'nings test still innocent. 17


He is stark mad whoever says

That he hath been in love an hour;

Yet not that love so soon decays,

But that it can in ten less space devour.

Who will believe me if I swear

That I have had the plague a year?

Who would not laugh at me, if I should say

I saw a flash of powder burn a day?

Ah! what a trifle is a heart

If once into Love's hands it come?

All other griefs allow a part

To other griefs, and ask themselves but some:

They come to us, but us Love draws,

He swal lows us and never chaws:

By him, as by chain'd shot, whole ranks do die;

He is the tyrant pike, and we the fry.

If't were not so, what did become

Of my heart when I first saw thee?

I brought a heart into the room,

But from the room I carried none with me:

If it had gone to thee, I know

Mine would have taught thine heart to show

More pity unto me; but Love, alas!

At one first blow did shiver it as glass.

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Yet nothing can to nothiDg fall,

Nor any place be empty quite,

Therefore I think my breast hath all

Those pieces still, tho' they do not unite:

And now as broken glasses show

A hundred lesser faces, so Jo

My rags ofheartca.i like, wish, and adore,

But after one such love can love no mere. 32



As virtuous men pass mildly' away,

And whisper to their souls to go,

Whilst 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 the earth brings harms and fears,

Men reckon what it did and meant; . 10

But trepidation of the spheres,

Tho' greater far, is innocent.

Dull sublunary lovers' love

(Whose soul is sense) cannot admit

Of absence, 'cause it doth remove

The thing which elemented it.

yjuau II. £

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