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I aft no difpenfation now

To falfify a tear, a figh, a vow;

I do not fue from thee to draw

A Non obflante on Nature's law;
Thele are prerogatives; they inhere

la thee and thine; none fhould forfwear,
Except that he Love's minion were.

Give me thy weaknefs, make me blind

Both ways, as thou and thine, in eyes and mind:
Love! let me never know that this

Is love, or that love childish is:

Let me not know that others know

That he knows my pains, left that fo

A tender shame make me mine own new woe.

If thon give nothing, yet thou'rt juft,
Beaufe I would not thy first motions trust.
Smail towns which ftand stiff, till great shot
Enforce them, by war's law condition not.
Such in love's warfare is my cafe,

I may not article for grace,

Having put Love at laft to fhew this face.
Th, by which he could command
And change th' idolatry of any land;
Tas face, which, wherefoe'er it comes,

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DEAR LOVE! for nothing less than thee
Would I have broke this happy Dream:
It was a theme

For reafon, much too ftrong for phantafy,
Therefore thou wak'dft me wifely; yet
My Dream thou brok'st not, but continueft it.
Thou art fo true, that thoughts of thee fuffice
To make Dreams truths, and fables hiftories.
Enter these arms; for fince thou thought'ft it beft
Not to dream all my dream, let's act the rest.

As lightning or a taper's light,

Thine eyes, and not thy noife, wak'd me;
Yet I thought thee

(For thou lov'ft truth) an angel at first fight;
But when I faw thou faw'ft my heart,

And knew'ft my thoughts beyond an angel's art, When thou knew'ft what I dreamt, then thou knew'ft when

Excefs of joy would wake me, and cam'ft then.

Ca all vow'd men from cloifters, dead from 1 muft confefs it could not choose but be

tombs,

And melt both poles at once, and ftore

Iirts with cities, and make more

Mines in the earth than quarries were before.

For this love is enrag'd with me,
Yet kills not. If I must example be

To fatore rebels; if th' unborn

Mat kan, by my being cut up and torn,

and diffect me, Love! for this

ture against thine own end is: Bat carcaffes make ill anatomies.

Profane to think thee any thing but thee.

Coming and staying fhew'd thee thee,
But rifing makes me doubt that now
Thou art not thou.

That love is weak where fear 's ftrong as he:
'Tis not all fpirit, pure and brave,

If misture it of fear, fhame, honour, have.
Perchance as torches, which must ready be,
Men light and put out, fo thou deal'ft with me;
Thou cam'ft to kindle, goeft to come: then I
Will dream that hope again, but elfe would die.

CONFINED LOVE.

bot man, unworthy to be poffeffor

Út der new love, himself being false or weak,
Thought his pain and fhame would be leffer

womankind he might his anger wreak,
And thence a law did grow,
One might but one man know;
Entre other creatures fo?

Are fan, moon, or flars, by law forbidden
To file where they lift, or lend away their light?
Ace birds divorc'd, or are they chidden

by leave their mate, or lie abroad all night?
Bs do no jointures lofe

Though they new lovers choose;

k we are made worse than those.

A VALEDICTION OF WEEPING.

LET me pour forth

My tears before thy face whilft I stay here,
For thy face coins them, and thy ftamp they bear;
And by this mintage they are fomething worth,
For thus they be

Pregnant of thee:

Fruits of much grief they are, emblems of more,
When a tear falls, that thou fall'ft, which it bore;
So thou and I are nothing then when on a di-
verfe fhore.

On a round ball

A workman, that hath copies by, can lay
An Europe, Afric, and an Afia,

And quickly make that which was nothing all:

So doth each tear

Which thee doth wear

A globe, yea, world, by that impreffion grow.
Till thy tears mixt with thine do overflow
This world, by waters fent from thee, my heav'n
diffolved fo.

O more than moon,

Draw not up feas to drown me in thy sphere; Weep me not dead in thine arms, but forbear To teach the fea what it may do too foon: Let not the wind

Example find

To do me more harm than it purposeth : Since thou and I figh one another's breath,

Anguish'd, not that 't wat fin, but that 't was f
Or may he for her virtue reverence
One that hates him only for impotence,
And equal traitors be fhe and his fenfe.

May he dream treason, and believe that he
Meant to perform it, and confess and die,
And no record tell why:

His fons, which none of his may be,
Inherit nothing but his infamy :

Or may he fo long parafites have fed,
That he would fain be theirs whom he hath bre
And at the last be circumcis'd for bread.

The venom of all ftepdames, gamefter's gall,

Whoe'er fighs moft is crueleft, and haftes the What tyrants and their fubjects interwish,

other's death.

LOVE'S ALCHYMY.

SOME that have deeper digg'd Love's mine than I,
Say where his centric happiness doth lie:
I've lov'd, and got, and told.

But should I love, get, tell, till I were old,
I fhould not find that hidden mystery:
Oh! 't is impofture all:

And as no chemic yet th' elixir got,
But glorifies his pregnant pot,

If by the way to him befal

Some odoriferous thing, or medicinal,
So lovers dream a rich and long delight,
But get a winter-feeming fummer's night.

Our ease, our thrift, our honour, and our day,
Shall we for this vain bubble's shadow pay?
Ends love in this, that my man
Can be as happy as I can? If he can

Endure the fhort fcorn of a bridegroom's play,
That loving wretch that swears

'Tis not the bodies marry, but the minds,
Which he in her angelic finds,
Would fwear as juftly that he hears,

In that day's rude hoarse minstrelfey the spheres,
Hope not for mind in women; at their best
Sweetness and wit they're but mummy possest.

THE CURSE.

WHOEVER gucffes, thinks, or dreams, he knows
Who is my mistress, whither by this Curfe;
Him only for his purfe

May fome dull whore to love difpofe,
And then yield unto all that are his foes;
May he be scorn'd by one whom all elfe fcorn,
Forfwear to others what to her he 'hath sworn,
With fear of miffing, fhame of getting, torn.

Madness his forrow, gout his cramp, may he Make, by but thinking who hath made them fuch;

And may he feel no touch

Of conscience, but of fame, and be

What plants, mine, beasts, fowl, fish,
Can contribute, all ill which all
Prophets or poets fpake; and all which shall
Be' annexed in schedules unto this by me
Fall on that man; for if it be a fhe,
Nature before-hand hath out-curfed me.

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The world's whole fap is funk:

The general balm th' hydroptic earth hath drunk,

Whither, as to the bed's-feet, life is fhrunk, Dead and interr'd; yet all these seem to laugh, Compar'd with me, who am their epitaph.

Study me then, you who fhall lovers be

At the next world, that is, at the next spring;
For I am a very dead thing,

In whom love wrought new alchymy;
For his art did exprefs

A quinteffence even from nothingness,
From dull privations and lean emptiness;
He ruin'd me, and I am re-begot

Of abfence, darkness, death; things which are not.

All others from all things draw all that's good,
Life, foul, form, fpirit, whence they being have;
J, by Love's limbec, am the grave

Of all, that's nothing. Oft' a flood
Have we two wept, and fo

Brown'd the whole world, us twe; oft did we

grow

To be two chaofes, when he did show

Care to ought elfe; and often absences

Withdrew our fouls, and made us carcases.

But I am by her death (which word wrongs her) Of the first nothing the elixir grown:

Were I a man, that I were one

I needs must know, I fhould prefer,

If I were any beast,

Though thou retain of me

One Picture more, yet that will be,
Being in thine own heart, from all malice free.

THE BAIT.'

COME, live with me, and be my love,
And we will fome new pleasures prove
Of golden fands and crystal brooks,
With filken lines and filver hooks.

There will the river whisp'ring run,
Warm'd by thine eyes more than the fun;
And there th' enamour'd fish will play,
Begging themselves they may betray.

When thou wilt fwim in that live bath,
Each fish, which every channel hath,
Will amorously to thee fwim,
Gladder to catch thee than thou him.

If thou to be fo feen art loth
By fun or moon, thou dark'neft both;
And if myself have leave to fee,

I need not there light, having thee.

Let others freeze with angling reeds,'
And cut their legs with fhells and weeds,
Or treacherously poor fish befet
With ftrangling fnare or winding net:

Some ends, fome means; yea plants, yea ftones, Let coarfe bold hands from flimy nest

deteft,

And love, all, all some properties inveft.
If I an ordinary nothing were,

As fhadow, a light and body must be here.

But I am none: nor will my fun renew,
You lovers, for whofe fake the leffer fun
At this time to the Goat is run
To fetch new luft, and give it you,
Enjoy your fummer all,

Since the enjoys her long night's festival :
Let me prepare towards her, and let me call
This hour her Vigil and her Eve, fince this
Both the year's and the day's deep midnight is.

WITCHCRAFT BY A PICTURE.

I FIX mine eye on thine, and there,
Pity my Picture burning in thine eye,
My Picture drown'd in a tranfparent tear,
When I look lower, I elpy.
Hadft thou the wicked skill,

By Pictures made and marr'd to kill,

The bedded fish in banks out-wrest, Or curious traitors fleave filk flies, Bewitch poor fishes' wand'ring eyes:

For thee, thou need'ft no fuch deceit, For thou thyself art thine own Bait; That fish that is not catch'd thereby, Alas! is wifer far than I.

THE APPARITION.

WHEN by thy fcorn, O, Murd'refs! I am dead, And thou shalt think thee free

Of all folicitation from me,
Then fhall my ghoft come to thy bed,
And thee, feign'd veftal, in worfe arms fhall fee;
Then thy fick taper will begin to wink,
And he, whofe thou art, being tir'd before,
Will, if thou ftir, or pinch to wake him, think
Thou call' it for more,

And in a falfe fleep even from thee shrink.
And then, poot afpin wretch! neglected, thos,

How many ways might'it thou perform thy will? Bath'd in a cold quickfilver fweat, wilt lie,

But now I've drunk thy fweet falt tears, And though thou pour more I'll depart: My Picture vanished, vanish all fears That I can be endamag'd by that art.

VOL. IV.

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THE BROKEN HEART.

He is ftark mad whoever fays
That he hath been in love an hour;
Yet not that love fo foon dec: ys,
But that it can ten in lefs space devour.
Who will believe me if I fwear
That I have had the plague a year?
Who would not laugh at me, if I should fay
I faw a flash of powder burn a day?

Ah! what a trifle is a heart

If once into love's hands it come?
All other griefs allow a part

To other griefs, and afk themfelves but fome :
They come to us, but us love draws,

He fwallows us and never chaws:

By him, as by chain'd fhot, whole ranks do die; He is the tyrant pike, and we the fry.

If 'twere not fo, what did become

Of my heart when I first faw thee?

I brought a heart into the room,

But from the room I carried none with me: If it had gone to thee I know

Mine would have taught thine heart to fhow More pity unto me; but love, alas!

At one first blow did fhiver it as glass.

Yet nothing can to nothing fall,
Nor any place be empty quite,
Therefore I think my breaft hath all

Those pieces ftill, though they do not unite:
And now as broken glaffes fhow
A hundred leffer faces, fo

My rags of heart can like, wifh, and adore,
But after one fuch love can love no more.

A VALEDICTION,

Forbidding Mourning.

As virtuous men pafs mildly away,
And whisper to their fouls to go,
Whilft fome of their fad friends do fay
Now his breath goes, and fome fay No:

So let us melt, and make no noife,
No tear-floods nor figh-tempefts move,
'Twere profanation of our joys
To tell the laity our love.

Moving of th' earth brings harms and fears,
Men reckon what it did and meant;

But trepidation of the spheres,
Though greater far, is innocent.

Dull fublunary lovers love
(Whole foul is fenfe) cannot admit
Of abfence, 'cause it doth remove
The thing which elmented it.

But we by a love fo far refin'd,
That ourselves know not what it is,
Inter-affured of the mind,

Careless eyes, lips, and hands, to mifs,

Our two fouls therefore, which are one,
Though I must go, endure not yet
A breach, but an expanfion,
Like gold to airy thinnefs beat.

If they be two, they are two fo
As ftiff twin compaffes are two;
Thy foul, the fixt foot, makes no show
To move, but doth if th' other do.

And though it in the center fit,
Yet when the other far doth roam,
It leans and bearkens after it,
And grows ered as that comes home.

Such wilt thou be to me who must,
Like th' other foot, obliquely run:
Thy firmness makes my circle just,
And makes me end where I begun.

THE ECSTASY.

WHERE, like a pillow on a bed,
A pregnant bank fwell'd up, to reft
The violet's declining head,
Sat we on one another's breaft.

Our hands were firmly cemented
By a faft balm, which thence did spring,
Our eye-beams twifted, and did thread
Our eyes upon one double ftring:

So to engraft our hands as yet
Was all the means to make us one,
And pictures in our eyes to get
Was all our propagation.

As 'twixt two equal armies fate
Sufpends uncertain victory,

Our fouls (which, to advance our state,
Were gone out) hung 'twixt her and me:

And, whilft our fouls negociate there,
We like fepulchral statues lay,
All day the fame our poftures were,
And we faid nothing all the day,

If any fo by love refin'd

That he fouls' language understood,
And by good love were grown all mind,
Within convenient diftance ftood,

He (though he knew not which foul spake,
Because both meant, both fpake, the fame)
Might thence a new concoction take,
And part far purer than he came.

This Ecflafy doth unperplex
(We faid) and tell us what we love;

We fee by this it was not fex,
We fee, we faw not what did move :

But as all feveral fouls contain
Mixture of things they know not what,
Love these mixt fouls doth mix again,
And makes both one, each this and that.

A fingle violet transplant,

The strength, the colour, and the size, (All which before was poor and fcant) Redouble still and multiplies.

When love with one another so
Inter-animates two fouls,

That abler foul, which thence doth flow,
Defects of lovelinefs controuls.

We then, who are this new foul, know
Of what we are compos'd and made;
For the atoms, of which we grow,
Are foul, whom no change can invade.

But, O, alas! fo long, fo far,
Our bodies why do we forbear?
They are ours, though not we; we are
Ta' intelligencies, they the spheres.

We owe them thanks, because they thus
Did us to us at first convey.
Yielded their fenfe's force to us,
Nor are drols to us, but allay.

On man heaven's influence works not fo;
But that it first imprints the air;
For foul into the foul may flow,
Though it to body first repair.

As our bloed labours to beget
Spirits as like fouls as it can,
Becaufe fuch fingers need to knit

That fubtile knot which makes us man;

So must pure lovers' fouls defcend
T'affections and to faculties,
Which fenfe may reach and apprehend,
Ede a great prince in prifon lies.

Tour bodies turn we then, and fo
Weak men on love reveal'd may look ;
Love's mysteries in fouls do grow,
But yet the body is the book:

And if fome lover, fuch as we,
Have heard this dialogue of one,
Let him still mark us, he shall fee

Small change when we're to bodies grown.

LOVE'S DEITY.

I LONG to talk with fome old lover's ghost, Who dy'd before the god of love was born: I cannot think that he, who then lov'd most, Sunk fo low as to love one which did fcorn:

But fince this god produc'd a definy,

And that vice nature cuftom lets it be, I'muft love her that loves not me:

Sure they which made him god meant not fo much,

Nor he in his young godhead practis'd it,
But when an even flame two hearts did touch,
His office was indulgently to fit
Actives to paffives; correfpondency
Only his fubject was; it cannot be
Love, till I love her that loves me.

But every modera god will now extend
His vaft prerogative as far as Jove,
To rage, to luft, to write to, to commend,
All is the purleau of the god of love.
Oh! were we waken'd by this tyranny
Tungod this child again, it could not be
I fhould love her who loves not me.

Rebel and Atheist too, why murmur I,

As though I felt the worst that love could do? Love may make me leave loving, or might try A deeper plague, to make her love me too, Which, fince she loves before, I'm loth to fee Falsehood is worse than hate; and that must be, If the whom I love fhould love me.

LOVE'S DIET.

To what a cumber fome unwieldinefs

And burdenous corpulence my love had grown! But that I did, to make it lefs,

And keep it in proportion,

Give it a diet, made it feed upon

That which love worft endures, difcretion.

Above one figh a day I allow'd him not,
Of which my fortune and my faults had part
And if fometimes by ftealth he got

A fhe figh from my miftrefs' heart,
And thought to feast on that, I let him fee
'Twas neither very found nor meant to me.

If he wrung from me a tear, I brin'd it fo
With fcorn or shame, that him it nourish'd not;
If he fuck'd her's I let him know

'Twas not a tear which he had got.

His drink was counterfeit, as was his meat; Her eyes, which rowl t'wards all, weep not, but fweat.

Whatever he would dictate, I writ that,
But burnt my letters which fhe writ to me :
And if that favour made him fat,

I faid, If any title be

Convey'd by this, ah! what doth it avail To be the fortieth man in an entail?

Thus I reclaim'd my buzzard love, to fly
At what, and when, and how, andwhere, I chofe,

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