Admit I sleep, I'll still pursue the Theam,
And eagerly I'l kisse thee in a dream.
O give me way; grant love to me thy friend,
Did hundred thousand Suiters all contend
For thy Virginity, there's none shall woe
With heart so firm as mine; none better do
Then I with your sweet-sweetnesse; if you doubt,
Pierce with your eyes my heart, or pluck it out.
Dearest, thy twin'd haires are not threds of gold,
Nor thine eyes Diamonds; nor do I hold
Thy lips for Rubies, nor thy cheeks to be
Fresh Roses; nor thy Dugs of Ivory;
The skin that doth thy dainty body sheath,
Not alabaster is; nor dost thou breath
Arabian odours; these the earth brings forth,
Compar'd with thine, they would impair thy worth;
Such then are other mistresses; but mine
Hath nothing of the earth, but all divine.
If earth doth never change, nor move,
There's nought of earth sure in thy love;
Sith heavenly bodies with each one,
Concur in generation;
And wanting gravity are light,
Or in a borrowed lustre bright;
If meteors and each falling starre,
Of heavenly matter framed are,
Earth hath my Mistresse, but sure thine
All heavenly is, though not divine.
*I love, because it comes to me by kind;
And much, because it much delights my mind:
And thee because thou art within my heart:
And thee alone, because of thy desert.
I love, and much, and thee, and thee alone,
By kind, mind, heart, desert, and every one.
Thou lovest not, because thou art unkind,
Nor much, cause it delighteth not thy mind:
Nor me, because I am not in thy heart:
Nor me alone, because I want desert:
"Thou lov'st nor much, nor me, nor me alone, By kind, mind, heart, desert, nor any one.
Excellent Mistresse, brighter than the moon,
Then scoured Pewter, or the Silver-spoon,
Fairer then Phoebus, or the morning starre;
Dainty faire Mistresse, by my troth you are
As far excelling Dian and her nymphs,
As lobsters crawfish, and as crawfish shrimps:
Thine eyes like Diamonds, do shine most clearly,
As I'm an honest Man, I love thee dearly.
Like to the self-inhabiting snaile,
Or like a Squirrell pent-hous'd under his taile,
Even such is my Mistresse face in a vaile :
Or like to a Carp that's lost in mudding,
Nay, more like to a black-pudding:
For as the pudding, the skin lies within,
So doth my Mistresse beauty in a taffity gin.
Tell me (Sweet-heart) how spell'st thou Fone, Tell me but that, 'tis all I crave;
I shall not need to be alone,
If such a lovely mate I have;
That thou art one, who can deny?
And all will grant that I am I,
If I be I, and thou art one,
Tell me (Sweet-heart) how spell'st thou Fone.
I tell you Sir, and tell you true,
That I am F, and I am one,
So can I spell Fone without you,
And spelling so, can lye alone:
My eye to one is consonant,
But as for yours it is not so ;
If that your eye agreement want,
I to your eye must answer no ;
Therefore leave off your loving plea.
And let your I be I per se.
Dear Love, do not your fair beauty wrong
With thinking still you are too young,
The Rose and Lilly in your cheek
Do flourish, and no ripening seek :
Those flaming beams shot from your eye,
Do show Loves Midsumer is nigh.
Your cherry-lip, red, soft and sweet,
Proclaim such fruit for taste is meet:
Then lose no time, for love hath wings,
And flies away from aged things.
Another to his Mistresse.
When first I saw thee, thou didst sweetly play
The gentle thief, and stol'st my heart away;
Render me mine again, or leave thy owne,
Two are too much for thee, since I have none :
But if thou wilt not, I will swear thou art
A sweet-fac'd creature with a double heart.
Sweetest fair be not too cruell,
Blot not beauty with disdain,
Let not those bright eyes adde fewell
To a burning heart in vain ;
Lest men justly when I dye,
Deem you the Candle, me the Flye.
I cannot pray you in a studyed stile,
Nor speak words distant from my heart a mile;
I cannot visit Hide-Park every day,
And with a Hackney court my time away;
I cannot spaniolize it week by week,
Or wait a month to kisse your hand or cheek; If when you'r lov'd, you cannot love again, Why, do but say so, I am out of pain.
You'll ask perhaps wherefore I stay,
(Loving so much,) so long away?
I do not think 'twas I did part,
It was my body, not my heart:
For like a Compasse in your love,
One foot was fixt, and cannot move;
Th'other may follow the blind guide
Of giddy fortune, but cannot slide
Beyond your service; nor will venter
To wander far from you the Center.
To a fair, but unkind Mistresse.
I prethee turn that face away,
Whose splendor but benights my day;
Sad eyes like mine, and wounded hearts,
Shun the bright rayes that beauty darts;
Unwelcome is the Sun that pries
Into those shades where sorrow lyes.
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