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He drank so much he scarce could stir,
So JULIA took the Pilferer.

And thus surpris'd, as filchers use,
He thus began himself to' excuse:
Sweet Lady-Flower, I never brought
Hither the least one thieving thought;
But taking those rare lips of yours
For some fresh, fragrant, luscious flowers,
I thought I might there take a taste,
Where so much syrup ran at waste.
Besides, know this, I never sting
The flower that gives me nourishing;
But with a kiss, or thanks, do pay
For honey that I bear away.
This said, he laid his little scrip
Of honey 'fore her Ladyship:
And told her, as some tears did fall,
That that he took, and that was all.
At which she smil'd, and bade him go
And take his bag; but thus much know,
When next he came a pilfering so,
He should from her full lips derive,
Honey enough to fill his hive.

TO ANTHEA.

BID me to live, and I will live
Thy Protestant to be;
Or bid me love, and I will give
A loving heart to thee:

A heart as soft, a heart as kind,
A heart as sound and free,

As in the whole world thou can'st find-
That heart I'll give to thee.

Bid that heart stay, and it will stay,

To honour thy decree;

Or bid it languish quite away,
It shall do so for thee.

Bid me despair, and I'll despair
Under yon cypress tree;
Or bid me die, and I will dare
E'en death, to die for thee.

Thou art my life, my love, my heart,
The very eyes of me:
And hast command of every part,
To live and die for thee.

HYMN TO VENUS.

GODDESS! I do love a Girl
Ruby-lipt, and tooth'd with pearl!
If so be I may but prove
Lucky in this Maid I love;
I will promise there shall be
Myrtles offered up to Thee.

TO JULIA:

WHY dost thou wound and break my heart, As if we should for ever part?

Hast thou not heard an oath from me,

After a day, or two, or three,

I would come back and live with thee?

Take, if thou dost distrust that vow,
This second protestation now.

Upon thy cheek that spangled tear,
Which sits as dew of roses there,-
That tear shall scarce be dried, before
I'll kiss the threshold of thy door.

Then weep not, Sweet! but thus much know,
I'm half return'd before I go.

JULIA! when thy HERRICK dies,
Close thou up thy poet's eyes!
And his last breath, let it be
Taken in by none but thee !

THOMAS RANDOLPH.

1630.

Randolph was born in Northamptonshire, about the year 1607, educated on the foundation of Westminster, and afterwards sent to Trinity College, Cambridge. A strong propensity to youthful pleasures, too freely indulged, brought him prematurely to the grave, when he had scarcely attained the twenty-seventh year of his age.

I HAVE a Mistress, for perfections rare
In every eye, but in my thoughts most fair!
Like tapers, on the altar, shine her eyes;
Her breath is the perfume of sacrifice;
And wheresoe'er my fancy would begin,
Still her perfection lets religion in !

I touch her, like my beads, with devout care;
And come unto my courtship, as my prayer:
We sit, and talk; and kiss away the hours,
As chastely as the morning dews kiss flowers.

We wear no flesh: but one another greet,
As blessed souls in separation meet.
Were it possible that my ambitious sin
Durst commit rapes upon a cherubin ;
I might have lustful thought to her, of all
Earth's heavenly quire the most angelical !
Looking into my breast, her form I find,
That, like my guardian angel, keeps my mind
From rude attempts; and when affections stir,
I calm all passions with one thought of her.

Thus they whose reasons love, and not their sense,
The Spirits love: thus one intelligence

Reflects upon his like; and by chaste loves,
In the same sphere this and that Angel moves.
Beasts love like men; if men in lust delight,
And call that love which is but appetite!
When essence meets with essence, and souls join
In mutual knots, that's the true nuptial twine.
Such, Lady! is my love; and such is true:
All other love is to your sex, not you.

FAIR Lady, when you see the grace
Of beauty in your looking-glass—
A stately forehead, smooth and high,
And full of princely majesty;
A sparkling eye, no gem so fair,
Whose lustre dims the cyprian star ;
A glorious cheek, divinely sweet,
Wherein both roses kindly meet;
A cherry lips that would entice
Even gods to kiss, at any price;
You think no beauty is so rare,
That with your shadow might compare,
That your reflection is alone

The thing that men most doat upon.
Madam, alas! your glass doth lie;
And you are much deceiv'd, for I
A beauty know of richer grace.
Sweet! be not angry-'tis your face.
Hence then, O learn more mild to be,
And leave to lay your blame on me!
If me your real substance move,
When you so much your shadow love.

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