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; la thee and thine; none fhould forfwear, Give me thy weaknefs, make me blind Both ways, as thou and thine, in eyes and mind: 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, I may not article for grace, Having put Love at laft to fhew this face. DEAR LOVE! for nothing less than thee For reafon, much too ftrong for phantafy, As lightning or a taper's light, Thine eyes, and not thy noife, wak'd me; (For thou lov'ft truth) an angel at first fight; 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, 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, That love is weak where fear 's ftrong as he: If misture it of fear, fhame, honour, have. CONFINED LOVE. bot man, unworthy to be poffeffor Út der new love, himself being false or weak, womankind he might his anger wreak, Are fan, moon, or flars, by law forbidden by leave their mate, or lie abroad all night? 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, Pregnant of thee: Fruits of much grief they are, emblems of more, On a round ball A workman, that hath copies by, can lay And quickly make that which was nothing all: So doth each tear Which thee doth wear A globe, yea, world, by that impreffion grow. 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 May he dream treason, and believe that he His fons, which none of his may be, Or may he fo long parafites have fed, 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, But should I love, get, tell, till I were old, And as no chemic yet th' elixir got, If by the way to him befal Some odoriferous thing, or medicinal, Our ease, our thrift, our honour, and our day, Endure the fhort fcorn of a bridegroom's play, 'Tis not the bodies marry, but the minds, In that day's rude hoarse minstrelfey the spheres, THE CURSE. WHOEVER gucffes, thinks, or dreams, he knows May fome dull whore to love difpofe, 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, 1 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; In whom love wrought new alchymy; A quinteffence even from nothingness, Of abfence, darkness, death; things which are not. All others from all things draw all that's good, Of all, that's nothing. Oft' a flood 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, THE BAIT.' COME, live with me, and be my love, There will the river whisp'ring run, When thou wilt fwim in that live bath, If thou to be fo feen art loth I need not there light, having thee. Let others freeze with angling reeds,' Some ends, fome means; yea plants, yea ftones, Let coarfe bold hands from flimy nest deteft, And love, all, all some properties inveft. As fhadow, a light and body must be here. But I am none: nor will my fun renew, Since the enjoys her long night's festival : WITCHCRAFT BY A PICTURE. I FIX mine eye on thine, and there, 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, And in a falfe fleep even from thee shrink. 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. THE BROKEN HEART. He is ftark mad whoever fays Ah! what a trifle is a heart If once into love's hands it come? To other griefs, and afk themfelves but fome : 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, Those pieces ftill, though they do not unite: My rags of heart can like, wifh, and adore, A VALEDICTION, Forbidding Mourning. As virtuous men pafs mildly away, So let us melt, and make no noife, Moving of th' earth brings harms and fears, But trepidation of the spheres, Dull fublunary lovers love But we by a love fo far refin'd, Careless eyes, lips, and hands, to mifs, Our two fouls therefore, which are one, If they be two, they are two fo And though it in the center fit, Such wilt thou be to me who must, THE ECSTASY. WHERE, like a pillow on a bed, Our hands were firmly cemented So to engraft our hands as yet As 'twixt two equal armies fate Our fouls (which, to advance our state, And, whilft our fouls negociate there, If any fo by love refin'd That he fouls' language understood, He (though he knew not which foul spake, This Ecflafy doth unperplex We fee by this it was not fex, But as all feveral fouls contain 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 That abler foul, which thence doth flow, We then, who are this new foul, know But, O, alas! fo long, fo far, We owe them thanks, because they thus On man heaven's influence works not fo; As our bloed labours to beget That fubtile knot which makes us man; So must pure lovers' fouls defcend Tour bodies turn we then, and fo And if fome lover, fuch as we, 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 every modera god will now extend 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, A fhe figh from my miftrefs' heart, If he wrung from me a tear, I brin'd it fo '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, 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 |