Tho expense of spirit in a waste of shame

So now I have confess'd that he is thine,
Is lust in action; and till action, lust

And I myself am mortgag'd to thy will;
Is perjur'd, murderous, bloody, full of blame, Myself I'll forfeit, so that other mine
Savage, extreme, rude, cruel, not to trust;

Thou wilt restore, to be my comfort still:
Enjoy'd no sooner, but despised straight;

But thou wilt not, nor he will not be free,
Past reason hunted; and, no sooner had,

For thou art covetous, and he is kind;
Past reason hated, as a swallow'd bail,

He learn'd but, surety-like, to write for me,
On purpose laid to make the taker mad:

Under that bond that him as fast doth bind.
Mad in pursuit, and in possession so ;

The statute of thy beauty thou wilt take,
Had, having, and in quest to have, extreme;

Thou usurer, that put'st forth all to use,
A bliss in proof,—and prov'd a very wo;

And sue a friend, came debtor for my sake;
Before, a joy propos'd; behind, a dream:

So him I lose through my unkind abuse.
All this the world well knows; yet none knows well Him have I lost; thou hast both him and mo;
To shun the heaven that leads men to this hell. He pays the whole, and yet am I not free.


My mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun; Whoever hath her wish, thou hast thy will,
Coral is far more red than her lips' red:

And will to boot, and will in overplus :
If snow be white, why then her breasts are dun, More than enough am I that vex thee still,
If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head. To thy sweet will making addition thus.
I have seen roses damask'd, red and white,

Wilt thou, whose will is large and spacious,
But no such roses see I in her cheeks;

Not once vouchsafe to hide my will in thine ?
And in some perfumes is there more delight

Shall will in others seem right gracious,
Than in the breath that from my mistress reeks. And in my will no fair acceptance shine ?
I love to hear her speak,-yet well I know

The sea, all water, yet receives rain still,
That music hath a far more pleasing sound; And in abundance addeth to his store ;
grant I never saw a goddess go,

So thou, being rich in will, add to thy will
My mistress, when she

walks, treads on the ground: One will of mine, to make thy large will moro.
And yet, by heaven, I think my love as rare Let no unkind, no fair beseechers kill :
As any she, bely'd with false compare.

Think all but one, and me in that one Will. CXXXI.


If thy soul check thee that I come so near,
Thou art as tyrannous, so as thou art,
As those whose beauties proudly make them cruel; And will, thy soul knows, is admitted there

Swear to thy blind soul that I was thy Willy
For well thou know'st to my dear doting heart

Thus far for love, my love-suit, sweet, fulfil.
Thou art the fairest and most precious jewel.

Will will fulfil the treasure of thy love,
Yet, in good faith, some say, that thee behold,

Ay, fill it full with wills, and my will one,
Thy face hath not the power to make love groan:

In things of great receipt with ease we prove,
To say they err, I dare not be so bold,

Among a number one is reckon'd uone.
Although I swear it to myself alone.

Then in the number let me pass untold,
And, to be sure that is not false I swear,

Though in thy store's account I one must be:
A thousand groans, but thinking on thy face,
One on another's neck, do witness bear,

For nothing hold me, so it please thee hold
Thy black is fairest in my judgment's place.

That nothing me, a something sweet to thee;
In nothing art thou black, save in thy deeds,

Make but my name thy love, and love that still, And thence this slander, as I think, proceeds.

And then thou lov'st me,-for my name is Will.


Thou blind fool, Love, what dost thou to mine eyes,
Thine eyes I love, and they, as pitying me,

That they behold, and see not what they see? Knowing thy heart, torment me with disdain ;

They know what beauty is, see where it lies,
Have put on black, and loving mourners be, Yet what the best is, take the worst to be.
Looking with pretty ruth upon my pain.

If eyes, corrupt by over-partial looks,
And truly not the morning sun of heaven

Be anchor'd in the bay where all men ride,
Better becomes the gray cheeks of the east,

Why of eyes' falsehood hast thou forged hooks,
Nor that full star that ushers in the even,
Doth half that glory to the sober west,

Whereto the judgment of my heart is tied?

Why should my heart think that a several plot, As those two mourning eyes become thy face: Which my heart knows the wide world's common 0, let it then as well beseem thy heart

To mourn for me, since mourning doth thee grace,

Or mine eyes seeing this, say this is not?
And suit thy pity like in every part.

To put fair truth upon so foul a face?
Then will I swear, beauty herself is black,

In things right true my heart and eyes have err'd
And all they foul that thy complexion lack.

And to this false plague are they now transferr'd.

Beshrew that heart that makes my heart to groan When my love swears that she is made of truth,
For that deep wound it gives my friend and me! I do believe her, though I know she lies;
Is't not enough to torture me alone,

That she might think me some untutor'd youth,
But slave to slavery my sweet'st friend must be ? Unlearned in the world's false subtleties.
Me from myself thy cruel eye hath taken,

Thus vainly thinking that she thinks me young,
And my next self thou harder hast engross'd; Although she knows my days are past the best,
Or him, myself, and thee, I am forsaken ;

Simply I credit her false-speaking tongue;
A torrent ihrice threefold thus to be cross'd. On both sides thus is simple truth supprest,
Prison my heart in thy steel bosom's ward,

But wherefore says she not, she is unjust?
But then my friend's heart let my poor heart bail; And wherefore say not I, that I am old?
Whoe'er keeps me, let my heart be his guard; O love's best habit is in seeming trust,
Thou canst not then use rigour in my gaol ; And age in love loves not to have years told.
And yet thou wilt; for I, being pent in thee, Therefore I lie with her, and she with ine,
Perforce am thine, and all that is in me.

And in our faults by lies we flatter'd be.

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O call not me to justify the wrong,
That thy unkindness lays upon my heart;

Two loves I have of comfort and despair,
Wound me not with thine eye, but with thy tongue ; The better angel is a man right fair,

Which like two spirits do suggest me still; Use power with power, and slay me not by art.

The worser spirit a woman, colourd ill.
Tell me thou lov'st elsewhere; but in my sight,

To win me soon to hell, my female evil
Dear heart, forbear to glance thine eye aside.
What need'st thou wound with cunning, when thy And would corrupt my saint to be a devil,

Tempteth my better angel from my side,

Wooing his purity with her foul pride. Is more than my o'erpress'd defence can 'bide ?

And whether that my angel be turn'd fiend, Let me excuse thee: 'ah! my love well knows

Suspect I may, yet not directly tell; Her pretty looks have been mine enemies;

But being bosh from me, both to each friend. And therefore from my face she turns my foes,

I guess one angel in another's hell. That they elsewhere might dart their injuries :

Yet this shall I ne'er know, but live in doubt Yet do not so; but since I am near slain,

Till my bad angel fire my good one out.
Kill me outright with looks, and rid my pain.

Be wise as thou art cruel; do not

Those lips that Love's own hand did make,

Breath'd forth the sound that said, I hate, My tongue-tied patience with too much disdain ;

To me that languish'd for her sake: Lest sorrow lend me words, and words express

But when she saw my woful state, The manner of my pity-wanting pain,

Straight in her heart did mercy come, If I might teach thee wit, better it were,

Chiding that tongue, that ever sweet Though not to love, yet, love to tell me so;

Was usd in giving gentle doom; (As testy sick men, when their deaths be near, No news but health from their physicians know ;)

And taught it thus a-new to greet;

I hate shc alter'd with an end,
For if I should despair, I should grow mad,

That follow'd it as gentle day
And in my madness might speak ill of thee :
Now this ill-wresting world is grown so bad,

Doth follow night, who, like a fiend,

From heaven to hell is flown away;
Mad slanderers by mad ears believed be
That I may not be so, nor thou belied,

I hate from hate away she threw,

And sav'd my life, saying—not you.
Bear thine eyes straight, though thy proud heart go

In faith I do not love thee with mine eyes,

Poor soul, the centre of my sinful earth,

Foold by those rebel powers that thee array
For they in thee a thousand errors note;
But 'tis my heart that loves what they despise,

Why dost thou pine within, and suffer dearth,
Who in despite of view is pleased to dote.

Painting thy outward walls so costly gay?
Nor are mine ears with thy tongue's tune delighted : Dost thou upon thy fading mansion spend ?

Why so large cost, having so short a lease,
Nor tender feeling, to base touches prone,
Nor taste nor smelí, desire to be invited

Shall worms, inheritors of this excess,
To any sensual feast with thee alone :

Eat up thy charge? Is this thy body's end ? But my five wits, nor my five senses can

Then, soul, live ihou upon thy servant's loss, Dissuade one foolish heart from serving thee,

And let that pine to aggravate thy store; Who lives unsway'd the likeness of a man,

Buy terms divine in selling hours of dross;

Within be fed, without be rich no more:
Thy proud heart's slave and vassal wretch to be ;
Only my plague thus far I count my gain,

So shalt thou feed on death, that feeds on men, That she that makes me sin, awards me pain.

And, death once dead, there's no more dying then.

Love is my sin, and thy dear virtue hate,

My love is as a fever, longing still
Hale of my sin, grounded on sinful loving;

For that which longer nurseth the disease ; O but with mine compare thou thine own state,

Feeding on that which doth preserve the ill, And thou shalt find it merits not reproving,

The uncertain sickly appetite to please. Or if it do, not from those lips of thine,

My reason, the physician to my love, That have profan'd their scarlet ornaments,

Angry that his prescriptions are not kept, And seald false bonds of love as oft as mine ;

Hath left me, and I desperate now approve, Robb'd others' beds revenues of their rents;

Desire is death, which physic did except. Be it lawful I love thee, as thou lovest those

Past cure I am, now reason is past care,

And frantic-mad with ever-more unrest;
Whom thine eyes woo as mine importune thee:
Root pity in thy heart, that when it grows,

My thoughts and my discourse as madmen's are, Thy pity may deserve to pitied be.

At random from the truth vainly express'd; If thou dost seek to have what thou dost hide,

For I have sworn thee fair, and thought thee bright, By self-oxample may'st thou be denied !

Who art as black as hell, as dark as night.

Lo, as a careful house-wife runs to catch

O me! what eyes hath love put in my head, One of her feather'd creatures broke away, Which have no correspondence with true sight! Sets down her habe and makes all swift dispatch Or, if they have, where is my judgment fled, In pursuit of the thing she would have stay, That censures falsely what ihey see aright? Whilst her neglected child holds her in chace, If that be fair whereon my false eyes dote, Cries to catch her whose busy care is bent What means the world to say it is not so ? To follow that which flies before her face,

If it be not, then love doth well denote Not prizing her poor infant's discontent ;

Love's eye is not so true as all men's; no, So runn'st thou after that which flies from thee, How can it? O, how can Love's eye be true, Whilst I, thy babe, chace thee afar behind; That is so vex'd with watching and with tears? But if thou catch ihy hope, turn back to me, No marvel, then, though I mistake my view; And play the mother's part, kiss me, be kind : The sun itself sees not, till heaven clears. So will I pray that thou may'st have thy will, O cunning Love! with tears thou keep'st me blind, I thou turn back and my loud crying still.

Lest eyes well-seeing thy foul faults should find.


CLII. Canst thou, O cruel! say I love thee not,

In loving thee thou know'st I am forsworn, When I, against myself, with thee partake? But thou art twice forsworn, to me love swearing ; Do I not think on thee, when I forgot

In act thy bed-vow broke, and new faith torn, Am of myself, all tyrant, for thy sake?

In vowing new hate after new love bearing. Who hateth thee, that I do call my friend?

But why of two oaths' breach do I accuse thee On whom frown'st thou, that I do fawn upon ? When I break twenty? I am perjur'd most; Nay, if thou low'rst on me, do I not spend

For all my vows are oaths but to misuse thee, Revenge upon myself with present moan?

And all my honest faith in thee is lost: What merit do I in myself respect,

For I have sworn deep oaths of thy deep kindness, That is so proud thy service to despise,

Oaths of thy love, thy truth, thy constancy;
When all my best doth worship thy defect, And, to enlighten thee, gave eyes to blindness,
Commanded by the motion of thine eyes! Or made them swear against the thing they see;
But, love, hate on, for now I know thy mind; For I have sworn thee fair: more perjur'd i,
Those that can see thou lovst, and I am blind. To swear, against the truth, so foul a lie!

O, from what power hast thou this powerful might, Cupid laid by his brand, and fell asleep;
With insufficiency my heart to sway?

A maid of Dian's this advantage found,
To make me give the lie to my true sight,

And his love-kindling fire did quickly steep And swear that brightness doth not grace the day? In a cold valley-fountain of that ground; Whence hast 1hou this becoming of things ill, Which borrow'd from this holy fire of love That in the very refuse of thy deeds

A dateless lively heat, still to endure, There is such strength and warrantise of skill, And grew a seething bath, which yet men pruvo, That in my mind thy worst all best exceeds? Against strange maladies a sovereign cure. Who taught thee how to make me love thee more, But at my mistress' eye love's brand new fir'd, The more I hear and see just cause of hate? The boy for trial needs would touch my breast O, though I love what others do abhor,

I sick withal, the help of bath desir'd, With others thou should'st not abhor my state;

And thither hied, a sad distemper'd guest, If thy unworthiness rais'd love in me,

But found no cure : the bath for my help lies More worthy I to be belov'd of thee.

Where Cupid got new fire; my mistress' eyes.

Love is too young to know what conscience is ; The little love-god lying once asleep,
Yet who knows not, conscience is born of love? Laid by his side his heart-inflaming brand,
Then, gentle cheater, urge not my amiss,

Whilst many nymphs that vow'd chasto lifo to keep,
Lest guilty of my faults thy sweet self prove. Came tripping by; but in her maiden hand
For, thou betraying me, I do betray

The fairest votary took up that fire My nobler part to my great body's treason; Which

many legions of true hearts had warm'd; My soul doth tell my body that he may

And so the general of hot desire
Triumph in love ; fiesh stays no farther reason; Was sleeping by a virgin hand disarm'd.
But rising at thy name, doth point out thee This brand she quenched in a cool well by,
As his triumphant prize. Proud of this pride, Which from love's fire took heat perpetual,
He is contented thy poor drudge to be,

Growing a bath and healthful remedy
To stand in thy affairs, fall by thy side.

For men diseas'd; but I, my mistress' thrall, No want of conscience hold it that I call

Came there for cure, and this by that I prove, Her-love, for whose dear love I rise and fall. Love's fire heats water, water cools not love.


FROM off a hill whose concave womb re-worded
A plaintful story from a sistering vale,
My spirits to attend this double voice accorded,
And down I lay to list the sad-tun'd tale:
Ere long espy'd a fickle maid full pale,
Tearing of papers, breaking rings a-twain,,
Stormning her world with sorrow's wind and rain.
Upon her head a platted hive of straw,
Which fortified her visage from the sun,
Whereon the thought might think sometime it saw
The carcase of a beauty spent and done.
Time had not scythed all that youth begun,
Nor youth all quit; but, spite of heaven's fell rage,
Some beauty peep'd through lattice of sear'd age.
Oft did she heave her napkin to her eyne,
Which on it had conceited characters,
Laund'ring the silken figures in the brine
That season'd wo had pelleted in tears,
And often reading what contents it bears ;
As often shrieking undistinguish'd wo,
In clamours of all size, both high and low.

Sometimes her levell’d eyes their carriage ride,
As they did battery to the spheres intend:
Sometime diverted their poor balls are tyd
To the orbed earth; sometimes they do extend
Their view right on; anon their gazes lend
To every place at once, and no where fix’d,
The mind and sight distractedly commix’d.
Her hair, nor loose, nor ty’d in formal plat,
Proclaim'd in her a careless hand of pride;
For some, untuck'd, descended her sheav'd hat,
Hanging her pale and pined cheek beside;
Some in her threaded fillet still did bide,
And, true to bondage, would not break from thonco,
Though slackly braided in loose negligence.
A thousand favours from a maund she drew
Of amber, crystal, and of bedded jet,
Which one by one she in a river threw,
Upon whose weeping margent she was set;
Like usury, applying wet to wet,
Or monarch's hands, that let not bounty fall
Where want cries some, but where excess begs all.

Of folded schedules had she many a one, But quickly on this side the verdict went;
Which she

perus’d, sigh'd, tore, and gave the flood; His real habitude gave life and grace Crack'd many a ring of posied gold and bone, To appertainings and to ornament, Bidding them find their sepulchres in mud;

Accomplish'd in himself, not in his case : Found yet more letters sadly pennd in blood, All aids themselves made fairer by their place; With slided silk feat and affectedly

Came for additions, yet their purpos'd trim Enswath'd, and seald to curious secrecy.' Piec'd not his grace, but were all grac'd by him. These often bath'd she in her fluxive


So on the tip of his subduing tongue And often kiss'd, and often 'gan to tear;

All kind of arguments and question deep,
Cry'd, 0 false blood! thou register of lies,

All replication prompt, and reason strong,
What unapproved witness dost thou bear?
Ink would have seem'd more black and damned here! To make the weeper laugh, the laugher weep,

For his advantage still did wake and sleep:
This said, in top of rage the lines she rents,

He had the dialeci and different skill, Big discontent so breaking their contents.

Catching all passions in his craft of will; A reverend man that graz'd his cattle nigh,

That he did in the general bosom reign (Sometime a blusterer, that the ruffle knew Of court, of city, and had let go by

Of young, of old ; and sexes both enchanteda

To dwell with him in thoughts, or to remain
The swiftest hours,) observed as they flew;
Towards this afflicted fancy fastly drew;

In personal duty, following where he haunted:

Consents bewitch'd, ere he desire, have granted ; And, privileg'd by age, desires to know

And dialogu'd from him what he would say, In brief, the grounds and motives of her wo.

Ask'd their own wills, and made their wills obey. So slides he down upon his grained bat, And comely-distant sits he by her side ;

Many there were that did his picture get, When he again desires her, being sat,

To serve their eyes, and in it put their mind; Her grievance with his hearing to divide:

Like fools that in the imaginaiion set If that from him there may be aught apply'd,

The goodly objects which abroad they find Which may her suffering ecsiasy assuage,

Of lands and mansions, their's in thought assign'd; 'Tis promis'd in the charity of age.

And labouring in more pleasures to bestow them,

Than the true gouty landlord which doch owe them. Father, she says, though in me you behold

So many have, that never touch'd his hand,
The injury of many a blasting hour,

Sweetly suppos'd them mistress of his heart.
Let it not tell your judgment I am old;
Not age, but sorrow, over ine hath power:

My woful sell, that did in freedom stand,

And was my own fee-simple, (not in part,)
I might as yet have been a spreading flower, What with his art in youth, and youth in art,
Fresh to myself
, if I had self-apply'd

Threw my affections in his charmed power,
Love to myself
, and to no love beside.

Reserv'd the stalk, and gave him all my flower. But wo is me! too early I attended

Yet did I not, as some my equals did, A youthful suit (it was to gain my grace)

Demand of him, nor being desired, yielded; of one by nature's outwards so commended, That maidens' eyes stuck over all his face !

Finding myself in honour so forbid,

With safest distance I mine honour shielded : Love lack'd a dwelling, and made him her place; Experience for me many bulwarks builded And when in his fair parts she did abide,

Of proofs new-bleeding, which remain'd the foil She was new lodg’d, and newly deified.

of this false jewel, and his amorous spoil. His browny locks did hang in crooked curls; But ah! who ever shunn'd by precedent And every light occasion of the wind

The destin'd ill she must herself assay ? Upon his lips their silken parcels hurls.

Or forc'd examples, 'gainst her own content, What's sweet to do, to do will aptly find;

To put the by-pass'd perils in her way?
Each eye that saw him did enchant the mind; Counsel may stop a while what will not stay ;
For on his visage was in little drawn,

For when we rage, advice is often seen
What largeness thinks in paradise was sawn. By blunting us to make our wits more keen.
Small show of inan was yet upon his chin ; Nor gives it satisfaction to our blood,
His phænix down began hut to appear,

That we must curb it upon others' proof;
Like unshorn velvet on that termless skin,

To be forbid the sweets that seem so good,
Whose bare out-bragg'd the web it seem'd to wear; For fear of harms that preach in our behoof.
Yet show'd his visage by that cost most doar ; O appetite, from judgment stand aloof!
And nice affection's wavering stood in doubt The one a palate hath that needs will taste,
If best 'twere as it was, or best without.

Though reason weep, and cry—it is thy lasi.
His qualities were beauteous as his form,

For further I could say, this man's untrue, For maiden-tongu'd he was, and thereof free; And knew the patterns of his foul beguiling ; Yet, if men mov'd him, was he such a storm Heard where his plants in others' orchards grow As oft 'twixt May and April is to see,

Saw how deceits were gilded in his smiling; When winds breathe sweet, unruly though they be. Knew vows were ever brokers to defiling; His rudeness so with his authoriz'd youth

Thought, characters, and words, merely but art, Did livery falseness in a pride of truth.

And bastards of his foul adulterate heart. Well could he ride, and often men would say,

And long upon these terms I held my city. That horse his mettle from his rider takes :

Till thus he'gan besiege me: “Genile maid, Proud of subjection, noble by the swny,

Have of my suffering youth some feeling pity, Whal rounds, what bounds, whal course, what slop he And be not of my holy vows afraid : makes!

That's to you sworn, io none was ever said; And controversy hence a question takes,

For feasts of love I have been callid unto, Whether the horse by him became his deed,

Till now did ne'er invite, nor never vow. Or he his manage by the well-doing steed. All my offences that abroad you see,

Are errors of the blood, none of the mind; . With sleided silk, feat and affectedly

Love made them not : with acture they may be, Enswathed and sealed to curious secrecy.'

Where neither party is nor true por kind: Anciently, the ends of a piece of narrow ribbon were They sought their shame that so their shame did find, placed under the scals of leuers, to connect them more And so much less of shame in me remains, closely.-Steedens.

By how much of me their reproach contains,


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Among the many that mine eyes have seen, My parts had power to charm a sacred sun,
Not one whose ilame my heart so much as warm'd, Who, disciplin'd and dieted in grace,
Or my affection put to the smallest teen,

Believ'd her eyes, when they to assail begun,
Or any of my leisures ever charm'd:

All vows and consecrations giving place :
Harın have I done to them, but ne'er was harm'd; O most potential love! vow, bond, nor space,
Kept hearts in liveries, but mine own was free, In thee hath neither sting, knot, nor contine,
And reign'd commanding in his monarchy.

For thou art all, and all things else are thine.
Look here, what tributes wounded fancies sent me, When thou impressest, what are precepts worth
Of paled pearls, and rubies red as blood;

Of stale example? When thou wilt intiame,
Figuring that they their passions likewise lent me How coldly those impediments stand forth
Of grief and blushes, aptly understood

Of wealth, of filial fear, law, kindred, fame?
In bloodless white and the encrimson'd mood; Love's arms are peace, 'gainst rule, 'gainst senso,
Effects of terror and dear modesty,

'gainst shame;
Encamp'd in hearts, but fighting outwardly. And sweetens, in the suffering pangs it bears,
And lo! behold, these talents of their hair,

The aloes of all forces, shocks, and fears.
With twisted metal amorously impleach'u,

Now all these hearts that do on mine depend,
I have receiv'd from many a several fair,

Feeling it break, with bleeding groans they pine ;
(Their kind acceptance weepingly beseech'd,) And supplicant their sighs to you extend,
With the annexions of fair gems enrich'd,

To leave the battery that you make 'gainst mine,
And deep-brain’d sonnets, that did amplify

Lending soft audience to my sweet design,
Each stone's dear nature, worth, and quality. And credent soul to that strong-bonded oath
The diamond; why 'twas beautiful and hard,

That shall prefer and undertake my troth."
Whereto his invis'd properties did tend;

This said, his watery eyes he did dismount,
The deep green emerald, in whose fresh regard Whose sights till then were leveld on my face;
Weak sights their sickly radiance do amend; Each cheek a river running from a fount

The heaven-hued sapphire and the opal blend With brinish current downward flow'd apace :
With objects manifold: each several stone, O, how the channel to the stream gave grace!
With wil well blazon'd, smild or made some moan. Who, glaz’d with crystal gate the glowing roses
Lo! all these trophies of affections hot,

That flame through water which their hue incloses.
Of pensiv'd and subdued desires the tender, O, father, what a hell of witchcraft lies
Nature hath charg'd me that I hoard them not, In the small orb of one particular tear ? .
But yield them up where I myself must render, But with the inundation of the eyes
That is, to you, my origin and ender:

What rocky heart to water will not wear?
For these, of force, must your oblations be,

What breast so cold that is not warmed here?
Since I their altar, you enpatron me.

O, cleft effect! cold modesty, hot wrath,
O, then, advance of yours that phraseless hand,

Both fire from hence and chill extincture hath!
Whose white weighs down the airy scale of praise; For lo! his passion, but an art of craft,
Take all these similes to your own command, Even there resolv'd my reason into tears:
Hallow'd with sighs that burning lungs did raise ; There my white stole of chastily I daft'd,
What me, your minister, for you obeys,

Shook off my sober guards and civil fears;
Works under you; and io your audit comes Appear to him, as he to me appears,
Their distract parcels in combined sums.

All melting; though our drops this difference borg
Lo! this device was sent me from a nun,

His poison'd me, and mine did him restore.
Or sister sanctified, of holiest note;

In him a plenitude of subtle matter,
Which late ber noble suit in court did shun, Applied to cautels, all strange forms receives,
Whose rarest havings made the blossoms dote; of burning blushes, or of weeping water,
For she was sought by spirits of richest coat, Or swooning paleness ; and he takes and leaves,
But kept cold distance, and did thence remove, In either's apiness, as it best deceives
To spend her living in eternal love.

To blush at speeches rank, to weep at woes,
But O, my sweet, what labour is't to leave Or to turn white and swoon at tragic shows.
The thing we have not, mastering what not That not a heart which in his level came,
strives ?

Could'scape the hail of his all-hurting aim,
Paling the place which did no form receive;- Showing fair nature is both kind and iame;
Playing patient sports in unconstrained gyves. And veil'd in them, did win whom he would maim:
She that her fame so to herself contrives,

Against the thing he sought he would exclaim:
The scars of battle scapeth by the flight,

When he most burn'd in heart-wish'd luxury,
And makes her absence valiant, not her might, He preach'd pure maid, and prais'd cold chastity.
O pardon me, in that my boast is true;

Thus merely with the garment of a Grace
The accident which brought me to her eye,

The naked and concealed fiend he cover'd;
Upon the moment did her force subdue,

That the unexperienc'd gave the tempter place,
And now she would the caged cloister fly;

Which, like a cherubin, above them hover'd.
Religious love put out religion's eye:

Who, young and simple, would not be so lover'd ?
Not to be tempied, would she be immur'd,

Ah me! I fell; and yet do question make,
now, to tempt all, liberty procur'd.

What I should do again for such a sake.
How mighty then you are, O, hear me tell ! O, that infected moisture of his eye,
The broken bosoms that to me belong,

O, that false fire which in his cheek so glow'd,
Have emptied all their fountains in my well, O, that forc'd thunder from his heart did fly,
And mine I pour your ocean all among:

O, that sad breath his spongy lungs bestow'd,
I strong o'er them, and you o'er me being strong,

o, all that borrow'd motion, seeming ow'd,
Must for your viciory us all congest,

Would yet again betray the fore betray'd,
As compound love to physic your cold breast. And new pervert a reconciled maid !

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