XXXIV.

EPISTLE

TO A FRIEND.

They are not, sir, worst owers that do pay Debts when they can: good men may break their day,

And yet the noble nature never grudge;
'Tis then a crime, when the usurer is judge,
And he is not in friendship: nothing there
Is done for gain; if't be, 'tis not sincere.
Nor should I at this time protested be,

But that some greater names have broke with me,
And their words too, where I but break my band;*
I add that BUT, because I understand

That as the lesser breach: for he that takes
Simply my band, his trust in me forsakes,
And looks unto the forfeit. If you be
Now so much friend, as you would trust in me,
Venture a longer time, and willingly:
All is not barren land doth fallow lie;
Some grounds are made the richer for the rest;
And I will bring a crop, if not the best.

s Where I but break my band.] i. e. whereas, in the old sense of the word. Jonson pleads his cause well; and probably kept his word (if it was taken) better than his bond.

XXXV.

AN ELEGY.

Can beauty, that did prompt me first to write,
Now threaten, with those means she did invite?
Did her perfections call me on to gaze,
Then like, then love; and now would they amaze!
Or was she gracious afar off, but near

A terror? or is all this but my fear?

That as the water makes things, put in't strait,
Crooked appear; so that doth my conceit:
I can help that with boldness; and Love sware,"
And Fortune once, t'assist the spirits that dare.
But which shall lead me on? both these are blind.
Such guides men use not, who their way would
find,

Except the way be error to those ends;

And then the best are still the blindest friends.
Oh how a lover may mistake! to think
Or Love, or Fortune blind, when they but wink
To see men fear; or else for truth and state,
Because they would free justice imitate,
Vail their own eyes, and would impartially
Be brought by us to meet our destiny.
If it be thus; come Love, and Fortune go,
I'll lead you on; or if my fate will so,
That I must send one first, my choice assigns
Love to my heart, and Fortune to my lines.

• And Love sware.] He alludes to the two proverbs, Faint heart, &c. and Fortes Fortuna juvat.

XXXVI.

AN ELEGY.

By those bright eyes, at whose immortal fires
Love lights his torches to inflame desires;
By that fair stand, your forehead, whence he
bends

His double bow, and round his arrows sends;
By that tall grove, your hair, whose globy rings
He flying curls, and crispeth with his wings;
By those pure baths your either cheek discloses,
Where he doth steep himself in milk and roses;'
And lastly, by your lips, the bank of kisses,
Where men at once may plant and gather blisses:
Tell me, my lov'd friend, do you love or no?
So well as I may tell in verse, 'tis so?

You blush, but do not:-friends are either none,
Though they may number bodies, or but one.
I'll therefore ask no more, but bid you love,
And so that either may example prove
Unto the other; and live patterns, how
Others, in time, may love as we do now.
Slip no occasion; as time stands not still,
I know no beauty, nor no youth that will.

By those pure baths your either cheek discloses,

Where he doth steep himself in milk and roses.] Though no date is prefixed to this Elegy, it was written before the celebration of Charis; for in the fifth ode there is an allusion to these and the following verses;

Such my mother's blushes be
As the bath your verse discloses

In her cheeks of milk and roses, &c. WHAL.

This is a curious mode of settling precedency; but it shall be as Whalley pleases. This little piece begins much better than it ends.

To use the present, then, is not abuse,
You have a husband is the just excuse
Of all that can be done him; such a one
As would make shift to make himself alone
That which we can; who both in you, his wife,
His issue, and all circumstance of life,
As in his place, because he would not vary,
Is constant to be extraordinary.

XXXVII.

A SATIRICAL SHRUB.'

A woman's friendship! God, whom I trust in,
Forgive me this one foolish deadly sin,
Amongst my many other, that I may

No more, I am sorry for so fond cause, say
At fifty years, almost, to value it,

That ne'er was known to last above a fit!
Or have the least of good, but what it must
Put on for fashion, and take up on trust.
Knew I all this afore? had I perceiv'd,
That their whole life was wickedness, though
weav'd

Of many colours; outward, fresh from spots,
But their whole inside full of ends, and knots?
Knew I that all their dialogues and discourse
Were such as I will now relate, or worse?

This is more in the style and manner of Donne than of our author. It may, however, be his; though I suspect that the loose scraps found after his death, among his papers, were committed to the press without much examination. There was undoubtedly an intercommunity of verse between the two friends; but I do not wish to carry the argument any further. Here (the folio says) something is wanting.

and yes,

you

do see,

Knew I this woman?
How penitent I am, or I should be.
Do not you ask to know her, she is worse
Than all ingredients made into one curse,
And that pour'd out upon mankind, can be:
Think but the sin of all her sex, 'tis she!
I could forgive her being proud! a whore!
Perjur'd! and painted! if she were no more-
But she is such, as she might yet forestall
The devil, and be the damning of us all.

XXXVIII.

A LITTLE SHRUB GROWING BY.

Ask not to know this Man.' If fame should speak
His name in any metal, it would break.
Two letters were enough the plague to tear
Out of his grave, and poison every ear.
A parcel of Court-dirt, a heap, and mass
Of all vice hurl'd together, there he was,
Proud, false, and treacherous, vindictive, all
That thought can add, unthankful, the lay-stall
Of putrid flesh alive! of blood the sink!
And so I leave to stir him, lest he stink.

XXXIX.

AN ELEGY.

Though beauty be the mark of praise,
And yours of whom I sing, be such,
As not the world can praise too much,
Yet 'tis your virtue now I raise.

Ask not to know this Man, &c.] This too is in the style of Donne. It was evidently designed to be a pendant of the former; whoever wrote that wrote this.