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But natures of the noblest frame

These toils and dangers please; And they take comfort in the same

As much as you in ease; And with the thought of actions past

Are recreated still : When Pleasure leaves a touch at last

To show that it was ill.


That doth Opinion only cause

That's out of Custom bred,
Which makes us many other laws

Than ever Nature did.
No widows wail for our delights,

Our sports are without blood;
The world we see by warlike wights

Receives more hurt than good,


But yet the state of things require

These motions of unrest: And these great spirits of high desire

Seem born to turn them best :
To purge the mischiefs that increase

And all good order mar,
For oft we see a wicked peace

To be well changed for war.



Well, well, Ulysses, then I see

I shall not have thee here :
And therefore I will come to thee,

And take my fortune there.
I must be won, that cannot win,

Yet lost were I not won,
For beauty hath created been
Tundo, or be undone.

S. Daniel.



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WHOE'ER she be
That not impossible She
That shall command my heart and me;

Where'er she lie,


from mortal eye 1 In shady leaves of destiny;

Till that ripe birth
Of studied Fate step

And teach her fair steps to our earth ;

Till that divine
Idea take a shrine
Of crystal flesh, through which to shine;

Meet you her, my Wishes,
Bespeak her to my blisses,
And be



absent kisses.
I wish her Beauty,
That owes not all its duty
To gaudy tire, or glist'ring shoe-tie :
Something more than
Taffata or tissue can,
Or rampant feather, or rich fan.
A Face, that's best
By its own beauty drest,
And can alone command the rest :

A Face made up
Out of no other shop
Than what Nature's white hand sets ope.

A Cheek, where youth
And blood, with pen of truth,
Write what the reader sweetly rueth.
A Cheek where
More than a morning rose,
Which to no box his being owes.
Lips, where all day
A lover's kiss may play,
Yet carry nothing thence away.
Eyes, that displace
The neighbour diamond, and outface
That sunshine by their own sweet grace.



Tresses, that wear
Jewels but to declare
How much themselves more precious are :
Whose native ray
Can tame the wanton day
Of gems that in their bright shades play.
Each ruby there,
Or pearl that dare appear,
Be its own blush, be its own tear.

A well tamed Heart,
For whose more noble smart
Love may be long choosing a dart.
Sydneian showers
Of sweet discourse, whose powers
Can crown old Winter's head with flowers.

Soft silken hours,
Open suns, shady bowers,
'Bove all, nothing within that lowers.
Whate'er delight
Can make Day's forehead bright,
Or give down to the wings of night.
Days that need borrow
No part of their good morrow,
From a fore-spent night of sorrow :
Days that, in spite
Of darkness, by the light
Of a clear mind are day all night.


Life that dares send
A challenge to his end,
And when it comes, say Welcome, friend !

I wish her store
Of worth


leave her poor Of wishes; and I wish-no more.

Now, if Time knows
That Her, whose radiant brows
Weave them a garland of my vows;

Her that dares be
What these lines wish to see;
I seek no further, it is She.

'Tis She, and here,
Lo! I unclothe and tear
My Wish's cloudy character.

May she enjoy it,
Whose merit dare apply it,
But modesty dares still deny it !

Such work as this is
Shall fix my flying wishes,
And determine them to kisses.

Let her full glory,
My fancies fly before ye,
Be ye my fictions—but her story.

Rich, Crashaw,

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