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At court your fellows every day
Give th' art of rhyming, huntmanship, or play,
For them, which were their own before ;
Only I've nothing which gave more,
But am, alas! by being lowly, lower.

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I ask no dispensation now
To falsify a tear, a sigh, a vow;
I do not sue from thee to draw
A Non obstante on Nature's law;
These are prerogatives; they inhere
In thee and thine; none should forswear,
Except that he Love's minion were.

Give me thy weakness, make me blind
Both ways, as thou and thine, in eyes and m'nd:
Love! let me never know that this
Is love, or that love childish is:
Let me not know that others know
That she knows my pains, lest that so
A tender shame make me mine own new woe.

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If thou give nothing, yet thou ’rt just,
Because I would not thy first motions trust.
Small towns which stand stiff, till great shot
Enforce them, by war's law condition no:.
Such in love's warfare is my case,
I may not article for grace,
Having put Love at last 10 shew this face.

A VALEDICTION

OF MY NAME IN THE WINDOW.

I.

My name, ingrav'd herein,
Doth contribute my firmness to this glass,
Which ever since that charm hath been
As hard as that which grav'd it was:
Thine eye will give it price enough to mock
The diamonds of either rock.

II.

'Tis much that glass should be
As all confessing and th'rough-shine as I:
'Tis more that it shews thee to thee,
And clear reflects thee to thine eye.
But all such rules Love's magic can undo;
Here you see me and I see you.

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III.

As no one point nor dash,
Which are but accessaries to this name,
The show'rs and tempests can outwash,
So shall all times find me the same:
You this intireness better may fulfill,
Who have the pattern with you still.

IV.'

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Or if too hard and deep
This learning be for a scratch'd name to teach,
It as a given Death's-head keep,
Lovers' mortality to preach,'
Or think this ragged bony name to be
My ruinous anatomy.

Then as all my souls be
Emparadis'd in you (in whom alone
I understand, and grow, and see)
The rafters of my body, bone,
Being still with you, the muscle, sinew, and vein,
Which tile this house, will come again.

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VI.
Till my return, repair
And recompact my scatter'd body sô,
As all the virtuous powers which are
Fix'd in the stars, are said to flow as
Into such characters as graved be,
When those stars had supremacy."

VII.
So since this name was cut
When love and grief their exaltation had,
No door 'gainst this name's influence shut;
As much more loving as more sad

40 'Twill make thee; and thou shouldst, till I return, Since I die daily, daily mourn. Donne. ]

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VIII.

When thy inconsiderate hand
Flings.ope this casement, with my trembling name,
To look on one whose wit or land
New battery to thy heart may frame,
Then think this name alive, and that thou thus
In it offend'st my genius.

IX,
And when thy melted maid,
Corrupted by thy lover's gold or page,
His letter at thy pillow' hath laid,
Dispute thou it, and tame thy rage.
If thou to him beginn'st to thaw for this,
May my name step in and hide his.

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And if this treason go
To an overt act, and that thou write again,
In superscribing my name flow
Into thy fancy from the pen,
So in forgetting thou rememb’rest right,
And unaware to me shalt write.

XI.
But glass and lines must be
No means our firin substantial love to keep;
Near death inflicts this lethargy,
And thus I murmur in my sleep:
Impute ihis idle talk to that I go,
For dying men talk often so,

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4

TWICKNAM GARDEN.

Blasted with sighs, and surrounded with tears,
Hither I come to seek the spring,
And at mine eyes, and at mine ears,
Receive such balm as else cures every thing :
But, O! self-traitor, I do bring
The spider Love, which transubstantiates all,
And can convert manna to gall;
And that this place may thoroughly be thought
True Paradise, I have the serpent brought.

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"Twere wholesomer for me that winter did
Benight the glory of this place,
And that a grave frost did forbid
These trees to laugh and mock me to my face :
But since I cannot this disgrace
Endure, nor leave this garden, Love, let me
Some senseless piece of this place be:
Make me a mandrake, so I may grow here,
Or a stone fountain weeping out my year.

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Hither with crystal vials, Lovers! come,
And take my tears, which are love's wine,
And try your mistress' tears at home,
For all are false that taste not just like mine:
Alas! hearts do not in eyes shine,

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