THE Poets feign, that, when the world began,
Both Sexes in one body did remain;
Till Jove, offended with this Double Man,
Caused VULCAN to divide him into twain
In this division, he the heart did sever;

But cunningly he did indent the heart,
That, if there were a reuniting ever,

Each Part might know which was his Counterpart. See then, dear Love! th' Indenture of my heart! And read the Cov'nants, writ with holy fire! See, if your heart be not the Counterpart

Of my true heart's indented chaste desire! And if it be; so may it ever be!

Two hearts in one, 'twixt you, my Love, and me!

WERE I as base as is the lowly plain,

And you, my Love, as high as heaven above! Yet should the thoughts of me, your humble Swain, Ascend to heaven! in honour of my love. Were I as high as heaven above the plain; And you, my Love, as humble and as low As are the deepest bottoms of the Main:

Wheresoe'er you were, with you my love should go! Were you the Earth, dear Love! and I, the Skies; My love should shine on you, like to the sun! And look upon you, with ten thousand eyes,

Till heaven waxed blind! and till the world were done! Wheresoe'er I am! below, or else above, you! Wheresoe'er you are! my heart shall truly love you!

A CONTENTED MIND.

I WEIGH not Fortune's frown or smile!
I joy not much in earthly joys!
I seek not State! I reck not style!
I am not fond of Fancy's toys!

I rest so pleased with what I have;
I wish no more! no more I crave!

I quake not at the thunder's crack!
I tremble not at noise of war!
I swound not at the news of wrack!
I shrink not at a blazing star!

I fear not loss! I hope not gain!
I envy none! I none disdain!

I see Ambition never pleased!

I see some TANTAL'S starved in store! I see gold's dropsy seldom eased!

I see even MIDAS gape for more!

I neither want; nor yet abound!
Enough's a feast! Content is crowned!

I feign not friendship, where I hate!
I fawn not on the Great (in show)!

I prize, I praise, a mean estate;
Neither too lofty, nor too low!

This, this, is all my choice, my cheer;
A mind content! A conscience clear!

EVEN as the timely sweet heat-temp'ring showers
Feed the faint earth, and fill it all with flowers green;
Green grain, and grass, and plants, and fruits, and flowers:
Whereby the beauty of the world is seen.

Even so, my tears, temp'ring mine inward fire,
Do feed my love, and foster my desire!

And as a sudden and a stormy rain

Makes FLORA's children hang their painted heads: And beateth down the pride of CERES' plain; Drowning the pastures, and the flow'ry meads.

Even so, my tears, that overflow my fire,
Drown my delight; but not my love's desire!

And as a little water, cast upon

A forge, doth force the flame to mount the more; Which being by the panting bellows blown,

It glows, and grows much hotter than before!

Even so, my tears, cast on mine inward fire,
Blown by my sighs, augment my high desire!

[fair;

And as a brook, that meadows undermines,
Doth make them seem more green, more fresh, more
And as the dew, before bright PHŒBUS shines,
Gives the sweet rose a more delightful air:

Even so, my tears, wat ring mine inward fire,
Adorn my love, and garnish my desire!

Thus, then, though weeping waste my life away,
And drench my soul in ever-floods of care;
Yet, by my tears, I do my faith display!
Whereby my merits still recorded are:

So that my tears refresh mine inward fire;
And yet my tears quench not my high desire!

THE FRUITS OF A CLEAR CONSCIENCE. To shine in silk, and glister all in gold,

To flow in wealth, and feed on dainty fare,
To have thy houses stately to behold,

Thy Prince's favour, and the people's care:
The groaning gout, the colic, or the stone,
Will mar thy mirth, and turn it all to moan!

But, be it, that thy body subject be

To no such sickness, or the like annoy;
Yet if thy Conscience be not firm and free,
Riches are trash! and Honours but a toy!
This Peace of Conscience is the perfect joy,
Wherewith GOD's children in the world be blest:
Wanting the which, as good want all the rest!
The want thereof made ADAM hide his head!
The want of this made CAIN to wail and weep!
This want, alas, makes many go to bed;

When they, God wot! have little list to sleep.
Strive, O, then strive to entertain and keep
So rich a jewel, and so rare a guest!
Which being had; a rush for all the rest!

THE AUTHOR'S RESOLUTION.

SHALL I, wasting in despair,
Die because a woman 's fair?
Or make pale my cheeks with care,
'Cause another's rosy are?

Be She fairer than the Day,
Or the flow'ry Meads in May;
If She think not well of me,
What care I, how Fair She be!

Shall my silly heart be pined,
'Cause I see a woman kind?
Or a well-disposed nature
Joined with a lovely feature?

Be she meeker, kinder, than
Turtle-dove, or pelican;

If She be not so to me,
What care I, how Kind She be!

Shall a woman's virtue move
Me to perish for her love?
Or her well-deservings known,
Make me quite forget mine own?

Be She with that goodness blest,
Which may merit name of best;
If She be not such to me,
What care I, how Good She be!