Guile would Gild

a True Intent

Dear, if I with guile would gild a true intent,

Heaping flatteries that in heart were never

meant:

Easily could I then obtain

What now in vain I force;
Falsehood much doth gain,

Truth yet holds the better course.

Love forbid that through dissembling I should thrive,

Or in praising you myself of truth deprive!

Let not your high thoughts debase

A simple truth in me:

Great is Beauty's grace,

Truth is yet as fair as she!

Praise is but the wind of pride, if it ex

ceeds;

Wealth, prized in itself, no outward value

needs.

DEAR, IF I WITH GUILE

Fair you are, and passing fair; You know it, and 'tis true: Yet let none despair

But to find as fair as you.

Inflaming
Eyes

Her fair inflaming eyes,

Chief authors of my cares,
I prayed in humblest wise
With grace to view my tears:
They beheld me broad awake,
But, alas, no ruth would take.

Her lips with kisses rich,

And words of fair delight,

I fairly did beseech,

To pity my sad plight:

But a voice from them brake forth,
As a whirlwind from the north.

Then to her hands I fled,

That can give heart and all;

To them I long did plead,

And loud for pity call:

But, alas, they put me off,

With a touch worse than a scoff.

HER FAIR INFLAMING EYES

So back I straight returned,
And at her breast I knocked;
Where long in vain I mourned,
Her heart so fast was locked:
Not a word could passage find,
For a rock enclosed her mind.

Then down my prayers made way
To those most comely parts,
That make her fly or stay,
As they affect deserts:

But her angry feet, thus moved,
Fled with all the parts I loved.

Yet fled they not so fast,
As her enraged mind:

Still did I after haste,

Still was I left behind;

Till I found 'twas to no end
With a Spirit to contend.

(B 325)

449

2 G

Lesbia, let us
Live and Love

My sweetest Lesbia, let us live and love; And though the sager sort our deeds reprove,

Let us not weigh them: heaven's great lamps do dive

Into their west, and straight again revive:

But soon as once set is our little light, Then must we sleep one ever - during night.

If all would lead their lives in love like

me,

Then bloody swords and armour should not be;

No drum nor trumpet peaceful sleeps should move,

Unless alarm came from the camp of love:

But fools do live, and waste their little

light,

And seek with pain their ever - during

night.