Then she spake; her speech was such, "Astrophel," said she, "my love, me. "If that any thought in me "If those eyes you praised, be "If to secret of my heart, Where thou art not foremost placed, "If more may be said, I say If thoủ love, my love content thee, MOST RICH OF SHADE "Trust me, while I thee deny, Tyrant Honour doth thus use thee, 'Therefore, dear, this no more move, Lest, though I leave not thy love, Which too deep in me is framed, I should blush when thou art named." Therewithal away she went, Leaving him to passion, rent With what she had done and spoken, That therewith my song is broken. When Shall it be O dear life, when shall it be Or if I myself find not, Nor debarred from Beauty's treasure, Let no tongue aspire to tell In what high joys I shall dwell: Thought, therefore, I will send thee Thought, see thou no place forbear, Seize on all to her belonging; O DEAR LIFE Fearing her beams, take with thee Think of that most grateful time Think of my most princely power, Think, think of those dallyings, When with dovelike murmurings, With glad moaning, passed anguish, We change eyes, and heart for heart Each to other do depart, Joying till joy makes us languish. O my Thought, my thoughts surcease, Thy delights my woes increase, My life melts with too much thinking; Think no more, but die in me, Till thou shalt revived be, At her lips my nectar drinking. This Dark Night Who is it that this dark night, Why, alas! and are you he? Be not yet those fancies changed? Well, in absence this will die; Can learn how myself to sunder But time will these thoughts remove: Time doth work what no man knoweth. Time doth as the subject prove, With time still the affection groweth In the faithful turtle dove. |