A reverend man that graz'd his cattle nigh-
Sometime a blusterer, that the ruffle knew
Of court, of city, and had let go by
The swiftest hours, observed as they flew
Towards this afflicted fancy fastly drew;
And, privileg'd by age, desires to know

In brief the grounds and motives of her woe.

So slides he down upon his grained bat,
And comely-distant sits he by her side;
When he again desires her, being sat,
Her grievance with his hearing to divide:

108

64

And controversy hence a question takes, Whether the horse by him became his deed, Or he his manage by the well-doing steed.

'But quickly on this side the verdict went: His real habitude gave life and grace To appertainings and to ornament,

Which may her suffering ecstasy assuage, 'Tis promis'd in the charity of age.

88

'His browny locks did hang in crooked curls,
And every light occasion of the wind
Upon his lips their silken parcels hurls.
What's sweet to do, to do will aptly find:
Each eye that saw him did enchant the mind,
For on his visage was in little drawn
What largeness thinks in Paradise was sawn.
'Small show of man was yet upon his chin; 92
His phoenix down began but to appear
Like unshorn velvet on that termless skin
Whose bare out-bragg'd the web it seem'd to
wear;

Yet show'd his visage by that cost more dear, 96
And nice affections wavering stood in doubt
If best were as it was, or best without.

'His qualities were beauteous as his form,
For maiden-tongu'd he was, and thereof
free;
100

Yet, if men mov'd him, was he such a storm
As oft 'twixt May and April is to see,
When winds breathe sweet, unruly though they
be.

His rudeness so with his authoriz'd youth
Did livery falseness in a pride of truth.

104

112

116

'That he did in the general bosom reign
Of young, of old; and sexes both enchanted, 128
To dwell with him in thoughts, or to remain
In personal duty, following where he haunted:
Consents bewitch'd, ere he desire, have granted;
And dialogu'd for him what he would say, 132
Ask'd their own wills, and made their wills obey.
'Many there were that did his picture get,
To serve their eyes, and in it put their mind;
Like fools that in the imagination set
The goodly objects which abroad they find
Of lands and mansions, theirs in thought

assign'd;

136

144

'So many have, that never touch'd his hand,
Sweetly suppos'd them mistress of his heart.
My woeful self, that did in freedom stand,
And was my own fee-simple, not in part,
What with his art in youth, and youth in art,
Threw my affections in his charmed power,
Reserv'd the stalk and gave him all my flower.
'Yet did I not, as some my equals did,
Demand of him, nor being desired yielded;
Finding myself in honour so forbid,
With safest distance I mine honour shielded.
Experience for me many bulwarks builded 152
Of proofs new-bleeding, which remain'd the foil
Of this false jewel, and his amorous spoil.

148

156

160

164

'But, ah! who ever shunn'd by precedent
The destin'd ill she must herself assay?
Or forc'd examples, 'gainst her own content,
To put the by-pass'd perils in her way?
Counsel may stop awhile what will not stay;
For when we rage, advice is often seen
By blunting us to make our wits more keen.
'Nor gives it satisfaction to our blood,
That we must curb it upon others' proof;
To be forbid the sweets that seem so good,
For fear of harms that preach in our behoof.
O appetite! from judgment stand aloof;
The one a palate hath that needs will taste, 167
Though Reason weep, and cry "It is thy last."
'For further I could say "This man's untrue,"
And knew the patterns of his foul beguiling;
Heard where his plants in others' orchards grew,
Saw how deceits were gilded in his smiling; 172
Knew vows were ever brokers to defiling;
Thought characters and words merely but art,
And bastards of his foul adulterate heart.

""All my offences that abroad you see Are errors of the blood, none of the mind; 184 Love made them not: with acture they may be, Where neither party is nor true nor kind: They sought their shame that so their shame did find,

And so much less of shame in me remains, 188 By how much of me their reproach contains. "Among the many that mine eyes have seen, Not one whose flame my heart so much as warm'd,

Or my affection put to the smallest teen, 192 Or any of my leisures ever charm'd:

Harm have I done to them, but ne'er was harm'd;

Kept hearts in liveries, but mine own was free, And reign'd, commanding in his monarchy. 196 "Look here, what tributes wounded fancies

sent me,

Paling the place which did no form receive,
Playing patient sports in unconstrained gyves?
She that her fame so to herself contrives,
And makes her absence valiant, not her might.
The scars of battle 'scapeth by the flight,

666

"O! pardon me, in that my boast is true; The accident which brought me to her eye Upon the moment did her force subdue, And now she would the caged cloister fly; Religious love put out Religion's eye: Not to be tempted, would she be immur'd, And now, to tempt, all liberty procur'd.

244

248

252

666

261

'My parts had power to charm a sacred nun, Who, disciplin'd, ay, dieted in grace, Believ'd her eyes when they to assail begun, All vows and consecrations giving place. O most potential love! vow, bond, nor space, In thee hath neither sting, knot, nor confine, For thou art all, and all things else are thine. "When thou impressest, what are precepts worth

Of stale example? When thou wilt inflame, 268
How coldly those impediments stand forth
Of wealth, of filial fear, law, kindred, fame!
Love's arms are peace, 'gainst rule, 'gainst
sense, 'gainst shame,

273

And sweetens, in the suffering pangs it bears, The aloes of all forces, shocks, and fears. "Now all these hearts that do on mine depend, Feeling it break, with bleeding groans they pine; And supplicant their sighs to you extend, To leave the battery that you make 'gainst mine,

276

Lending soft audience to my sweet design,
And credent soul to that strong-bonded oath
That shall prefer and undertake my troth." 280
'This said, his watery eyes he did dismount,
Whose sights till then were levell'd on my face;
Each cheek a river running from a fount
With brinish current downward flow'd apace.
O! how the channel to the stream gave grace;
Who glaz'd with crystal gate the glowing roses
That flame through water which their hue

encloses.

'O father! what a hell of witchcraft lies In the small orb of one particular tear, But with the inundation of the eyes

283

All melting; though our drops this difference bore,

300

304

His poison'd me, and mine did him restore.
'In him a plenitude of subtle matter,
Applied to cautels, all strange forms receives,
Of burning blushes, or of weeping water,
Or swounding paleness; and he takes and leaves,
In either's aptness, as it best deceives,
To blush at speeches rank, to weep at woes,
Or to turn white and swound at tragic shows:
"That not a heart which in his level came

309

Could 'scape the hail of his all-hurting aim, Showing fair nature is both kind and tame; And, veil'd in them, did win whom he would maim: 312

Against the thing he sought he would exclaim; When he most burn'd in heart-wish'd luxury, He preach'd pure maid, and prais'd cold chas tity.

'Thus merely with the garment of a Grace 316 The naked and concealed fiend he cover'd; Which like a cherubin above them hover'd. That the unexperient gave the tempter place, Who, young and simple, would not be so lover'd?

320

I.

IV.

6

I do believe her, though I know she lies,
That she might think me some untutor'd youth,
Unskilful in the world's false forgeries.
Thus vainly thinking that she thinks me young,
Although I know my years be past the best,
I smiling credit her false-speaking tongue,
Outfacing faults in love with love's ill rest.
But wherefore says my love that she is young?
And wherefore say not I that I am old?
O! love's best habit is a soothing tongue,
And age, in love, loves not to have years
told.
12
Therefore I'll lie with love, and love with me,
Since that our faults in love thus smother'd
be.

II.

Two loves I have of comfort and despair,
Which like two spirits do suggest me still;
The better angel is a man, right fair,
The worser spirit a woman, colour'd ill.
To win me soon to hell, my female evil
Tempteth my better angel from my side,
And would corrupt a saint to be a devil,
Wooing his purity with her fair pride:
And whether that my angel be turn'd fiend
Suspect I may, but not directly tell;
For being both to me, both to each friend,
I guess one angel in another's hell.

The truth I shall not know, but live
doubt,

Till my bad angel fire my good one out.

III.

12

With young Adonis, lovely, fresh, and green, Did court the lad with many a lovely look, Such looks as none could look but beauty's queen.