Bors rebb'd of air, we both lie in one ground; Both whom one fire had burnt, one water drown'd.
Two by themselves each other love and fear; Sain, cruel friends by parting have join'd here.
Br children's births and death I am become Se dry, that I am now mine own fad tomb.
Out of a fired ship, which by no way
But drowning could be rescued from the flame,
Some men leap'd forth, and ever as they came
Near the foes' fhips, did by their shot decay :
So all were loft which in the ship were found,
They in the fea being burnt, they in the burnt
ship drown'd.
UNDER an under-min'd and fhot-bruis'd wall
A too bold captain perish'd by the fall,
Whole brave misfortune happiest men envy'd,
That had a tower for tomb his bones to hide.
IAM unable, yonder Beggar cries,
To fand or move; if he fays true, he lies.
Your mistress that you follow whores ftill taxeth you;
'Tis frange that the should thus confess it though it be true.
THY fins and hairs may no man equal call; For as thy fins increase, thy hairs do fall.
Ir in his study he hath fo much care
To hang old ftrange things, let his wife beware,
THY father all from thee, by his last will, Gave to the poor; thou hast good title still.
THY flattering picture, Phryne, is like to thee Only in this, that you both painted be.
PHILO with twelve years' ftudy hath been griev'd To b' understood: when will he be believ'd? KLOCKIUS fo deeply 'ath fworn ne'er more to
In bawdyhouse, that he dares not go home.
Way this man gelded Martial I amufe,
Except himself alone his tricks would use,
As Kath'rine for the court's fake put down ftews.,
Mercurius Gallo-Belgicus.
LIKE Efop's fellow-flaves, O Mercury!
Which could do all things, thy faith is; and I
Like Ælop's felf, which nothing. I confefs
I should have had more faith if thou hadst lefs;
Thy credit loft thy credit; it is fin to do,
In this cafe, as thou wouldst be done unto,
To believe all. Change thy name; thou art like
Mercury in stealing, but lieft like a Greek.
Compaffion in the world again is bred:
Ralphius is fick, the broker keeps his bed.
ELEGY I. JEALOUSY.
FOND woman! which wouldft have thy hufband die,
And yet complain'ft of his great Jealoufy:
If fwoln with poifon he lay in his last bed,
His body with a fere-cloth covered,
Drawing his breath as thick and fhort as can
The nimbleft crocheting musician,
Ready with loathfome vomiting to fpuc
His foul out of one hell into a new,
Made deaf with his poor kindred's howling cries,
Begging with few feign'd tears great legacies,
Thou would'ft not weep, but jolly and frolic be,
As a flave which to-morrow should be free;
Yet weep'st thou when thou feeft him hungerly
Swallow his own death, heart's-bane Jealousy.
O give him many thanks, he's courteous,
That in fufpecting kindly warneth us:
We must not, as we us'd, flout openly
In fcoffing riddles his deformity;
Nor, at his board together being fate
With words, nor touch, scarce looks adulterate :
Nor when he, fwoln and pamper'd with high fare,
Sits down and fnorts, cag'd in his basket chair,
Muft we ufurp his own bed any more,
Nor kifs and play in his houfe as before.
Now do I fee my danger, for it is
His realm, his caftle, and his diocefe.
But if (as envious men, which would revile
Their prince, or coin his gold, themselves exile
Into another country, and do it there)
We play in another's houfe, what should we fear?
There will we fcorn his household policies,
His filly plots and penfionary fpies;
As the inhabitants of Thames right fide
What though her cheeks be yellow, her hair's red;
Give her thine, and the hath a maidenhead.
These things are beauty's elements; where these
Meet in one, that one muft, as perfect, please.
If red and white, and each good quality,
Be in thy wench, ne'er afk where it doth lie.
In buying things perfum'd, we ask if there
Bc mufk and amber in it, but not where.
Though all her parts be not in th' usual place,
She hath yet the Anagrams of a good face.
If we might put the letters but one way,
In that lean dearth of words what could we say?
When by the gamut fome muficians make
A perfect fong, others will undertake,
By the fame gamut chang'd, to equal it.
Things fimply good can never be unfit;
She's fair as any, if all be like her;
And if none be, then fhe is fingular.
All love is wonder if we justly do
Account her wonderful, why not lovely too?
Love built on beauty foon as beauty dies;
Choofe this face, chang'd by no deformities.
Women are all like angels; the fair be
Like thofe which fell to worfe; but fuch as fhe,
Like to good angels, nothing can impair :
'Tis lefs grief to be foul than to have been fair.
For one night's revels filk and gold we choose,
But in long journies cloth and leather ufe.
Beauty is barren oft; best husbands fay
There is beft land where there is fouleft way.
Oh! what a fovereign plaifter will the be,
If thy paft fins have taught thee jealousy!
Here needs no fpies nor eunuchs, her commit
Safe to thy foes, yea, to a marmofit.
Like Belgia's cities, when the country drowns,
Do London's Mayor, or Germans the Pope's pride. That dirty foulnefs guards and arms the towns;
MARRY and love thy Flavia, for fhe
Hath all things whereby others beauteous be;
For though her eyes be small, her mouth is great;
Though theirs be ivory, yet her teeth be jet;
Though they be dim, yet fhe is light enough.
And though her harth hair's foul, herkin is rough,
So doth her face guard her; and fo for thee
Who, forc'd by bus'nefs, abfert oft muit be:
She, whofe face, like clouds, turns the day to night,
Who, mightier than the fea, makes Moors feem
Whom, though feven years fhe in the stews had laid,
A nunnery durft receive, and think a maid;
And though in childbirth's labour she did lie,
Midwives would fwear 't were but a tympany;
Whom, if the accufe herfelf, I credit leis
Than witches, which impofliblos confefs,
One like none, and lik'd of none, fittest were;
For things in fashion every man will wear.
ALTHOUGH thy hand and faith, and good works too,
Have feal'd thy love, which nothing should undo,
Yea, though thou fall back, that apoftafy
Confirms thy love; yet much, much I fear thee.
Women are, like the arts, forc'd unto none,
Open to all fearchers, unpriz'd if unknown.
If I have caught a bird, and let him flie,
Another fowler, ufing thofe means as 1,
May catch the same bird; and, as these things be,
Women are made for men, not him nor me.
Foxes, goats, and all beafts, change when they❘
please,
Shall women, more hot, wily, wild, than thefe,
Be bound to one man, and bid Nature then
Idly make them apter to endure than men?
They're our clogs, not their own; if a man be
Chain'd to a galley, yet the galley's free.
Who hath a plow-land cafts all his feed-corn there,
And yet allows his ground more corn fhould bear.
Though Danuby into the fea must flow,
The fea receives the Rhine, Volga, and Po,
By Nature, which gave it this liberty.
Thou lov't, but, oh! canft thou love it and me?
Likeness glews Love; and if that thou fo do,
To make us like and love muft I change too?
More than thy hate I hate it; rather let me
Allow her change, than change as oft as fhe ;
And fo not teach, but force my opinion
To love not any one nor every one,
To live in one land is captivity;
To run all countries a wild roguery.
Waters ftink foon if in one place they chide,
And in the vaft fea are more purify'd:
But when they kifs one bank, and leaving this
Never look back, but the next bank do kiss,
Then are they pureft. Change is the nursery
Of mufic, joy, life, and eternity.
ONCE, and but once, found in thy company,
All thy fuppofed 'fcapes are laid on me;
And as a thief at bar is queftion'd there
By all the men that have been robb'd that year,
So am 1 (by this traiterous means furpris'd)
By thy hydroptic father catechis’d.
Though he had wont to fearch with glazed eyes,
As though he came to kill a cockatrice;
Though he hath oft fworn that he would remove
Thy Leauty's beauty, and food of our love,
Hope of his goods, if I with thee were feen,
Yet clofe and fecret as our fouls we've been.
Though thy immortal mother, which doth lie
Still buried in her bed, yet will not die,
Takes this advantage to fleep out day light,
And watch thy entries and returns all right;
And when he takes thy hand, and would feem
Doth fearch what rings and armlets she can find;
And, kifling, notes the colour of thy face,
And, fearing left thou'rt fwoln, doth thee embrace;
And, to try if thou long, doth name strange meats,
And notes thy palenefs, blufhes, fighs, and fweats,
And politicly will to thee confefs
The fins of her own youth's rank luftinefs;
Yet love thefe forc'ries did remove, and move
Thee to gull thine own mother for my love.
Thy little brethren which, like fairy fp'rits,
Oft fkip into our chamber thofe fweet nights,
And, kifs'd and dandled on thy father's knee,
Were brib'd next day to tell what they did fee;
The grim eight-foot high iron-bound ferving man,
That oft names God in oaths, and only then,
He that, to bar the first gate, doth as wide
As the great Rhodian Coloffus ftride,
Which, if in hell no other pains there were,
Makes me fear hell, becaufe he must be there :
Though by thy father he were hir'd to this,
Could never witness any touch or kifs.
But, oh! too common ill, I brought with me
That which betray'd me to mine enemy;
A loud Perfume, which at my entrance cry'd
Ev'n at thy father's nofe, fo were we foy'd.
When, like a tyrant king, that in his bed
Smelt gunpowder, the pale wretch shivered;
Had it been fome bad imell, he would have thought
That hisown feet or breath the finell had wrought:
But as we in our ifle imprifoned,
Where cattle only, and divers dogs are bred,
The precious unicorns ftrange monsters call,
So thought he fweet ftrange that had none at all.
I taught my filks their whistling to forbear,
Ev'n my oppreft fhoes dumb and speechlefs were;
Only thou bitter fweet, whom I had laid
Next me, me traitorously haft betray'd,
And unfufpected haft invisibly
At once fled unto him and ftay'd with me.
Bafe excrement of earth, which doft confound
Senfe from diftinguishing the fick from found;
By thee the fully amorous fucks his death,
By drawing in a leprous harlot's breath;
By thee the greateft ftain to man's eftate
Falls on us, to be call'd effeminate;
Though you be much lov'd in the prince's hall,
There things that feem exceed fubftantial.
Gods, when ye fum'd on altars, were pleas'd well,
Because you're burnt, not that they lik'd your smelt.
You're lothfome all, being ta'en fimply alone;
Shall we love ill things join'd, and hate each one?
If you were good, your good doth foon decay,
And you are rare that takes the good away.
All my Perfumes I give most willingly
Tembalm thy father's corfe. What! will he die?
HERE, take my Picture; though I bid farewell: Thine in my heart, where my foul dwells, thali dwell;
'Tis like me now, but, I dead, 'twill be more,
When we are fhadows both, than 'twas before.
When weather-beaten I come back, my hand,
Perhaps, with rude oars torn, or fun-beams tann'd;
My face and breast of hair-cloth, and my head
"With Care's harsh sudden hoarinefs o'erspread;
My body a fack of bones, broken within,
And powder's blue ftain's fcatter'd on my fkin;
If rival fools tax thee t' have lov'd a man
So foul and coarfe as, oh! I may feem then,
This fhall fay what I was; and thou shalt fay,
Do his hurts reach me? doth my worth decay?
Or do they reach his judging mind, that he
Should now love lefs what he did love to fee?
'That which in him was fair and delicate,
Was but the milk which in Love's childish ftate
Did nurse it, who now is grown ftrong enough
To feed on that which to weak tastes feems tough.
OH! let me not serve so as those men serve
Whom honour's fmokes at once flatter and farve:
Poorly enrich'd with great men's words or looks,
Nor fo write my name in thy loving books,
As thofe idolatrous flatterers, which ftill
Their prince's ftiles which many names fulfil,
Whence they no tribute have, and bear no fway.
Such fervices I offer as fhall pay
.Themselves; I hate dead names: oh! then let me
Favourite in ordinary, or no favourite, be.
When my foul was in her own body sheath'd,
Nor yet by oaths betroth'd, nor kiffes breath'd
Into my purgatory, faithless thee,
Thy heart feem'd wax, and feel thy conftancy :
So careless flowers, ftrow'd on the water's face,
The curled whirlpools fuck, fmack, and embrace,
Yet drown them; fo the taper's beamy eye,
Amorously twinkling, beckons the giddy fie,
Yet burns his wings; and fuch the devil is,
Scarce vifiting them who're entirely his.
When I behold a ftream, which from the spring
Doth, with doubtful melodious murmuring,
Or in a fpeechlefs flumber, calmly ride
Her wedded channel's bofom, and there chide,
And bend her brows, and fwell, if any bough
Do but ftoop down to kifs her utmost brow;
Yet if her often gnaw ing kiffes win
The traitorous banks to gape and let her in,
See rufheth violently, and doth divorce
Her from her native and her long kept course,
And roars and braves it, and in gallant fcorn,
In flattering eddies promifing return.
She flouts her channel, which thenceforth is dry;
Then fay I that is fhe, and this am I.
Yet let not thy deep bitterness beget
Careless defpair in me, for that will whet
My mind to fcorn; and, oh! Love dull'd with pain
Was ne'er fo wife nor well arm'd as Difdain.
Then with new eyes 1 fhall furvey and spy
Death in thy cheeks, and darknefs in thine eye.
Though hope breed faith and love, thus taught, I
fhall,
As nations do froza Rome, from thy love fall;
My hate shall outgrow thine, and utterly
I will renounce thy dalliance; and when I
Am the recufant, in that refolute state
What hurts it me to be excommunicate?
NATURE'S lay idiot, I taught thee to love,
And in that sophistry, oh! how thou dost prove
Too fubtle! fool, thou didst not understand
The mystic language of the eye nor hand;
Nor couldst thou judge the diff'rence of the air
Of fighs, and fay this lies, this founds despair ;
Nor by th' eye's water know a malady
Desperately hot, or changing feverously.
I had not taught thee then the alphabet
Of flowers, how they, devifefully being fet
And bound up, might, with fpeechless secrecy,
Deliver errands mutely and mutually.
Remember, fince all thy words us'd to be
To ev'ry fuitor," I, if my friends agree;',
Since household charmsthy husband's name to teach
Were all the love-tricks that thy wit could reach;
And fince an hour's difcourfe could fcarce have
made
One answer in thee, and that ill array'd
In broken proverbs and torn sentences,
Thou art not by so many duties his
(That from the world's common having fever'd
thee,
Inlaid thee, neither to be seen nor fee)
As mine; who have, with amorous delicacies,
Refin'd thee into a blissful Paradise.
Thy graces and good works my creatures be;
I planted knowledge and life's tree in thee;
Which, oh! shall strangers tafte? must I, alas!
Frame and enamel plate, and drink in glafs?
Chafe wax for others feals? break a colt's force,
And leave him then, being made a ready horse?
ELEGY VIII. THE COMPARISON.
As the sweet sweat of roses in a still,
As that which from chaf'd musk-cats pores doth
trill,
As the almighty balm of th' early east,
Such are the fweat-drops of my mistress' breast;
And on her neek her skin fuch luftre fets,
They feem no fweat-drops, but pearly coronets.
Rank fweaty froth thy mistress' brow defiles,
Like fpermatic iffue of ripe menftruous boiles,
Or like the skum which, by need's lawless law
Enforc'd, Sanferra's ftarved men did draw
From parboil'd shoes and boots, and all the reft,
Which were with any fovereign fatness bleft;
And like vile ftones lying in faffron'd tin,
Or warts, or weales, it hangs upon her skin.
Round as the world's her head, on ev'ry fidd
Like to the fatal ball which fell on Ide;
Or that whereof God had fuch jealousy,
As for the ravishing thereof we die.
Thy head is like a rough-hewn ftatue of jet, Where marks for eyes, nose, mouth, are yet scarce fet ;
Like the first chaos, or flat-feeming face
Of Cynthia, when th' earth's shadows her embrace;
Like Proferpine's white beauty-keeping cheft,
Or Jove's best fortune's urn, is her fair breast.
Thine's like worm-eaten trunks cloth'd in feal's
skin,
Or grave, that's duft without and stink within;
And like that flender ftalk, at whofe end ftands
The wood-bine quivering are her arms and hands;
Like rough-bark'd elm boughs, or the ruffet skin
Of men late scourg'd for madness or for fin;
Like fun-parch'd quarters on the city gate,
Such is thy tann'd skin's lamentable state;
And like a bunch of ragged carrets stand
The short swoln fingers of thy mistress' hand.
Then like the chemic's mafculine equal fire,
Which in the limbec's warm womb doth inspire
Into th' earth's worthless dirt a foul of gold,
Such cherishing heat her best lov'd part doth hold,
Thine's like the dread mouth of a fired gun,
Or like hot liquid metals newly run
Into clay moulds! or like to that Etna,
Where, round about, the grass is burnt away.
Are not your kiffes then as filthy, and more,
As a worm fucking an envenom'd fore?
Doth not thy fearful hand in feeling quake,
As one which gathering flowers ftill fears a snake?
Is not your last act harsh and violent,
As when a plough a tony ground doth rent?
So kifs good turtles, fo devoutly nice
A priest is in his handling facrifice,
And nice in searching wounds the surgeon is,
As we when we embrace, or touch, or kiss.
Leave her, and I will leave comparing thus;
She and Comparisons are odious.
No fpring nor fummer's beauty hath fuch grace
As I have feen in one Autumnal face.
Young beauties force our loves, and that's a rape;
This doth but counsel, yet you cannot 'scape.
If 't were a fhame to love, here 't were no fhame;
Affections here take Reverence's name.
Were her first years the golden age; that's true,
But now he's gold oft' try'd, and ever new:
That was her torrid and inflaming time,
This is her habitable tropic clime.
Fair eyes who afks more heat than comes from hence,
He in a fever wishes peftilence.
Call not these wrinkles graves; if graves they
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Here dwells he; though he fojourn ev'ry where
In progrefs, yet his standing house is here;
Here, where still evening is, not noon nor night,
Where no voluptuoufness, yet all delight.
In all her words, unto all hearers fit,
You may at revels, you at councils, fit.
This is Love's timber, youth his underwood;
There he, as wine in June, enrages blood,
Which then comes feasonableft when our taste
And appetite to other things is pait.
Xerxes' ftrange Lydian love, the platane tree,
Was lov'd for age, none being so old as the,
Or elfe because, being young, Nature did bless
Her youth with age's glory, barrenness.
If we love things long fought, age is a thing
Which we are fifty years in compaffing;
If tranfitory things, which soon decay,
Age must be lovelieft at the latest day,
But name not winter-faces, whose skin's flack,
Lank as unthrift's purse, but a foul's fack :
Whofe eyes feek light within; for all'here's fhade;
Whose mouths are holes, rather worn out than
made;
Whose every tooth to a feveral place is gone
To vex the foul at refurrection;
Name not thefe living death-heads unto me,
For these not ancient but antic be.
I hate extremes; yet I had rather stay
With tombs than cradles to wear out the day.
Since fuch Love's natural station is, may still
My love defcend, and journey down the hill;
Not panting after growing beauties; fo
I shall ebb on with them who homeward go.
IMAGE of her whom I love more than fhe
Whofe fair impreffion in my faithful heart
Makes me her medal, and makes her love me,
As kings do coins, to which their stamps impart
The value; go, and take my heart from hence,
Which now is grown too great and good for me.
Honours opprefs weak spirits and our fenfe
Strong objects dull; the more, the lefs we fee.
When you are gone, and Reason gone with you,
Then Fantafy is queen, and foul and ali;
She can prefent joys meaner than you do,
Convenient, and more proportional.
So if I Dream I have you, I have you;
For all our joys are but fantastical;
And fo I 'fcape the pain, for pain is true;
And fleep, which locks up sense, doth lock out all.
After fucha fruition I fhall wake,
And, but the waking, nothing fhall repent;
And fhall to Love more thankful fonncts make,
Than if more honour, tears, and pains, were spent.
But, dearest heart! and, dearer image! ftay;
Alas! true joys at beft are Dreams enough;
Though you stay here you pafs too fast away,
For even at first life's taper is a fnuff.
Fill'd with her love, may 1 be rather grown
Mad with much heart than idiot with none.
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