THE WELCOME,

Go, let the fatted calf be kill'd;
My prodigal's come home at last,
With noble resolutions fill'd,

And fill'd with sorrow for the past:
No more will burn with love or wine;
But quite has left his women and his swine.
Welcome, ah! welcome, my poor Heart!

Welcome! I little thought, I'll swear ('Tis now so long since we did part)

Ever again to see thee here:

Dear wanderer! since from me you fled, How often have I heard that thou wert dead! Hast thou not found each woman's breast (The lands where thou hast travelled) Either by savages possest,

Or wild, and uninhabited?

What joy could'st take, or what repose, In countries so unciviliz'd as those?

Lust, the scorching dog-star, here
Rages with immoderate heat;
Whilst Pride, the rugged northern bear,
In others makes the cold too great:

And where these are temperate known, The soil 's all barren sand or rocky stone. When once or twice you chanc'd to view A rich, well-govern'd heart,

Like China, it admitted you

But to the frontier-part.

From Paradise shut for evermore,

What good is 't that an angel kept the door?

Well fare the pride, and the disdain,
And vanities, with beauty join'd;
I ne'er had seen this heart again,
If any fair-one had been kind:

My dove, but once let loose, I doubt
Would ne'er return, had not the lood been out.

THE HEART FLED AGAIN. FALSE, foolish Heart! didst thou not say That thou would'st never leave me more? Behold! again 'tis fled away,

Fled as far from me as before.

I strove to bring it back again;
I cry'd and hollow'd after it in vain.
Ev'n so the gentle Tyrian dame,

When neither grief nor love prevail,
Saw the dear object of her flame,

Th' ingrateful Trojan, hoist his sail :
Aloud she call'd to him to stay;
The wind bore him and her lost words away.
The doleful Ariadne so,

On the wide shore forsaken stood:
"False Theseus whither dost thou go?"
Afar false Theseus cut the flood.
But Bacchus came to her relief;
Bacchus himself 's too weak to ease my grief.
Ah! senseless Heart, to take no rest,

But travel thus eternally!
Thus to be froz'n in every breast!

And to be scorch'd in every eye!
Wandering about like wretched Cain,
Thrust-out, ill-us'd, by all, but by none slain!
Well, since thou wilt not here remain,

I'll e'en to live without thee try;
My head shall take the greater pain,
And all thy duties shall supply:
I can more easily live, I know,
Without thee, than without a mistress thou.

WOMEN'S SUPERSTITION.
OR I'm a very dunce, or woman-kind
Is a most unintelligible thing:
I.can no sense nor no contexture find,

Nor their loose parts to method bring:
I know not what the learn'd may see,
But they're strange Hebrew things to me.

By customs and traditions they live,
And foolish ceremonies of antique date;
We lovers, new and better doctrines give,
Yet they continue obstinate:

Preach we, Love's prophets, what we will, Like Jews, they keep their old law still,

Sire of Repentance! child of fond Desire!
That blow'st the chymics', and the lovers', fire,
Leading them still insensibly' on
By the strange witchcraft of "anon!"
By thee the one does changing Nature, through
Her endless labyrinths, pursue;
And th' other chases woman, whilst she goes
More ways and turns than hunted Nature knows.

FOR HOPE.

HOPE! of all ills that men endure,
The only cheap and universal cure! [health!
Thou captive's freedom, and thou sick man's
Thou loser's victory, and thou beggar's wealth!
Thou manna, which from Heaven we eat,
To every taste a several meat!

Thou strong retreat! thou sure-entail'd estate,
Which nought has power to alienate!
Thou pleasant, honest flatterer! for none
Flatter unhappy men, but thou alone!

Hope! thou first-fruits of happiness! Thou gentle dawning of a bright success! Thou good preparative, without which our joy Does work too strong, and, whilst it cures, destroy!

Who out of Fortune's reach dost stand, And art a blessing still in hand! Whilst thee, her earnest-money, we retain, We certain are to gain,

Whether she her bargain break, or else fulfil; Thou only good, not worse for ending ill!

Brother of Faith! 'twixt whom and thee The joys of Heaven and Earth divided be! Though Faith be heir, and have the fixt estate, Thy portion yet in moveables is great.

Happiness itself's all one
In thee, or in possession!

Only the future's thine, the present his!
Thine's the more hard and noble bliss:
Best apprehender of our joys! which hast
So long a reach, and yet canst hold so fast!
Hope! thou sad lovers' only friend!

Thou Way, that may'st dispute it with the End!

For love, I fear, a fruit that does delight
The taste itself less than the smell and sight,

Fruition more deceitful is

What ill returns dost thou allow!

I fed thee then, and thou dost starve me now.
There was a time when thou wast cold and chill,
Nor hadst the power of doing ill;
Into my bosom did I take

This frozen and benumbed snake,
Not fearing from it any harm;

But now it stings that breast which made it warm.
What cursed weed's this Love! but one grain sow,
And the whole field 'twill overgrow;

Straight will it choak up and devour

Each wholesome herb and beauteous flower! Nay, unless something soon I do, 'Twill kill, I fear, my very laurel too.

But now all's gone-I now, alas! complain,
Declare, protest, and threat, in vain;
Since, by my own unforc'd consent,
The traitor has my government,
And is so settled in the throne,

That 'twere rebellion now to claim mine own,

THE FRAILTY.

I KNOW 'tis sordid, and 'tis low,

(All this as well as you I know)
Which I so hotly now pursue,
(I know all this as well as you)

But, whilst this cursed flesh I bear, And all the weakness and the baseness there, Alas! alas! it will be always so.

In vain, exceedingly in vain,

I rage sometimes, and bite my chain; Yet to what purpose do I bite With teeth which ne'er will break it quite! For, if the chiefest Christian head Was by this sturdy tyrant buffeted, What wonder is it if weak I be slain ?

COLDNESS.

As water fluid is, till it do grow Solid and fixt by cold;

So in warm seasons Love does loosely flow;
Frost only can it hold:

A woman's rigour and disdain
Does his swift course restrain.

Though constant and consistent now it be,
Yet, when kind beams appear,
It melts, and glides apace into the sea,
And loses itself there.

So the Sun's amorous play

Kisses the ice away.

You may in vulgar loves find always this;
But my substantial love

Of a more firm and perfect nature is ;
No weathers can it move:
Though heat dissolve the ice again,
The crystal solid does remain.

ENJOYMENT.

THEN like some wealthy island thou shalt lie, And like the sea about it, I;

Thou, like fair Albion to the sailor's sight,
Spreading her beauteous bosom all in white;
Like the kind Ocean I will be,
With loving arms for ever clasping thee.
But I'll embrace thee gentlier far than so;
As their fresh banks soft rivers do:
Nor shall the proudest planet boast a power
Of making my full love to ebb one hour;
It never dry or low can prove,
Whilst thy unwasted fountain feeds my love.
Such heat and vigour shall our kisses bear,

As if like doves w' engender'd there:
No bound nor rule my pleasures shall endure,
In love there's none too much an epicure:

Nought shall my hands or lips control; I'll kiss thee through, I'll kiss thy very soul. Yet nothing but the Night our sports shall know; Night, that's both blind and silent too! Alpheus found not a more secret trace, His lov'd Sicanian fountain to embrace,

Creeping so far beneath the sea, Than I will do t'enjoy and feast on thee. Men, out of wisdom; women, out of pride, The pleasant thefts of love do hide : That may secure thee; but thou 'ast yet from me A more infallible security;

For there's no danger I should tell The joys which are to me unspeakable.

SLEEP.

In vain, thou drowsy god! I thee invoke ;
For thou, who dost from fumes arise-
Thou, who man's soul dost overshade
With a thick cloud by vapours made-
Canst have no power to shut his eyes,

Or passage of his spirits to choke,
Whose flame's so pure that it sends up no smoke.
Yet how do tears but from such vapours rise?
Tears, that bewinter all my year?
The fate of Egypt I sustain,
And never feel the dew of rain,
From clouds which in the head appear;
But all my too much moisture owe
To overflowings of the heart below.

THE PARTING.

As men in Greenland left beheld the Sun
From their horizon run,

And thought upon the sad half-year
Of cold and darkness they must suffer there
So on my parting mistress did I look;

With such swoln eyes my farewell took :
Ah, my fair star! said I;

Ah, those blest lands to which bright Thou dost

fly!

In vain the men of learning comfort me,
And say I'm in a warm degree;

Say what they please, I say and swear 'Tis beyond eighty at least, if you 're not here.

It is, it is; I tremble with the frost,

And know that I the day have lost; And those wild things which men they call, I find to be but bears or foxes all. Return, return, gay planet of mine East,

Of all that shines thou much the best! And, as thou now descend'st to sea, More fair and fresh rise up from thence to me Thou, who in many a propriety, So truly art the Sun to me,