Can mince it passing well!
She trips on toe!

Full fair to show:

Within doth poison dwell!

Now wanton LOVE at last is sped!
DISSEMBLING is his only joy!

Bare TRUTH, from VENUS' Court is fled!
Dissembling pleasures hide annoy.
It were in vain

To talk of pain;
The wedding yet doth last!

But pain is near;

And will appear

With a dissembling cast!

Despair and Hope are joined in one;
And Pain with Pleasure linkèd sure:
Not one of these can come alone!
No certain hope! no pleasure pure!
Thus sour and sweet,
In love do meet;
DISSEMBLING likes it so!

Of sweet, small store!

Of sour, the more!
Love is a pleasant woe!

Amor et mellis et fellis.

DISPRAISE OF LOVE, AND LOVERS'

FOLLIES.

IF Love be life, I long to die!
Live they that list, for me!
And he that gains the most thereby,

A fool, at least, shall be!

But he that feels the sorest fits,
'Scapes with no less than loss of wits!
Unhappy life they gain,

Which Love do entertain!

In day, by feignèd looks they live;
By lying dreams in night!
Each frown, a deadly wound doth give;
Each smile, a false delight!

If 't hap their Lady pleasant seem;
It is for others' love! they deem:
If void She seem of joy,
Disdain doth make her coy!

Such is the peace that Lovers find!
Such is the life they lead!
Blown here and there, with every wind,
Like flowers in the mead!

Now, war! Now, peace! Then, war again!
Desire! Despair! Delight! Disdain!

Though dead, in midst of life!
In peace; and yet at strife!

THE TOMB OF DEAD DESIRE.

WHEN VENUS saw DESIRE must die,
Whom high DISDAIN
Had justly slain,

For killing TRUTH with scornful eye;
The Earth she leaves, and gets her to the sky.
Her golden hairs she tears.

Black weeds of woe she wears.

For help, unto her father doth she cry!
Who bids her stay a space,

And hope for better grace.

To save his life, she hath no skill.
Whom should she pray!
What do or say!

But weep, for wanting of her will!
Meantime, DESIRE hath ta'en his last farewell:
And in a meadow fair,

To which the Nymphs repair,

His breathless corpse is laid, with worms to dwell. So Glory doth decay,

When Death takes life away!

When morning star had chased the night,
The Queen of Love

Looked from above,

To see the grave of her delight;

And as, with heedful eye, she viewed the place,
She spied a flower unknown,

That on his grave was grown,

Instead of learnèd Verse, his tomb to grace.
If you the name require;
Heart's-ease, from dead DESIRE.

A DEFIANCE TO DISDAINFUL LOVE.

Now, have I learned, with much ado, at last,
By true disdain to kill desire!

This was the mark at which I shot so fast!

Unto this height I did aspire!

Proud Love; now do thy worst, and spare not!
For thee, and all thy shafts, I care not!

What hast thou left, wherewith to move my mind!
What life, to quicken dead desire!

I count thy words and oaths as light as wind!
I feel no heat in all thy fire!

Go, change thy bow; and get a stronger!

Go, break thy shafts; and buy thee longer!

In vain, thou bait'st thy hook with Beauty's blaze!
In vain, thy wanton eyes allure !

These are but toys for them that love to gaze !
I know what harm thy looks procure!

Some strange conceit must be devised;
Or thou, and all thy skill, despised!

A REPENTANT POEM.

THOUGH late, my heart! yet turn at last;
And shape thy course another way!
'Tis better lose thy labour past;

Than follow on to sure decay!

What though thou long have strayed awry;
In hope of grace, for mercy cry!

Though weight of Sin doth press thee down,
And keep thee grov❜lling on the ground;
Though black Despair, with angry frown,
Thy wit and judgement quite confound;
Though Time and Wit have been misspent ;
Yet grace is left, if thou repent!

Weep, then, my heart! weep still, and still!
Nay, melt to floods of flowing tears!
Send out such shrieks as Heaven may fill;
And pierce thine angry Judge's ears!

And let thy soul, that harbours Sin,
Bleed streams of blood, to drown it in