天涯在线书库《www.tianyabook.com》

《John Donne Selected Poems》


 -1

    <strong>A VALEDI FORBIDDING M.</strong><bdo>?９9ｌiｂ.</bdo>

    AS virtuous men pass mildly away,

    And whisper to their souls to go,

    Whilst some of their sad friends do say,

    &quot;Now his breath goes,&quot; and some say, &quot;No.&quot;

    So let us melt, and make no noise,

    No tear-floods, nh-tempests move ;

    Twere profanation of our joys

    To tell the laity our love.

    Moving of th earth brings harms and fears ;

    Men re what it did, a ;

    But trepidation of the spheres,

    Though greater far, is i.

    Dull sublunary lovers love

    —Whose soul is sense—ot admit

    Of absence, cause it doth remove

    The thing which eleme.

    But we by a love so much refined,

    That ourselves<tt>..t> know not what it is,

    Inter-assur鑔 of the mind,

    Care less, eyes, lips and hands to miss.

    Our two souls therefore, which are one,

    Though I must go, e yet

    A breach, but an expansion,

    Like gold to aery thinness beat.

    If they be two, they are two so

    As stiff t9９lｉｂ.win passes are two ;

    Th<samp></samp>y soul, the fixd foot, makes no show

    To move, but doth, if th other do.

    And though it in the tre sit,

    Yet, wheher far doth roam,

    It leans, and hearkens after it,

    And grows erect, as that es home.

    Such wilt thou be to me, who must,

    Like th other foot, obliquely run ;

    Thy firmness makes my circle just,

    And makes me end where I begun.

 -2

    <strong>THE FLEA.</strong>

    MARK but this flea, and mark in this,

    How little that which thou de me is ;

    It suckd me first, and now sucks thee,

    And in this flea our two bloods <mark></mark>mingled be.

    Thou knowst that this ot be said

    A sin, nor shame, nor loss of maidenhead ;

    Yet this enjoys before it woo,

    And pamperd swells with one blood made of two ;

    And this, alas ! is more than we would do.

    O stay, three lives in one flea spare,

    Where we almost, yea, more than married are.

    This flea is you and I, and this

    Our marriage bed, and marriage temple is.

    Though parents grudge, and you, were met,

    And cloisterd in these living walls of jet.

    Though use make you apt to kill me,

    Let not to that self-murder added be,

    And sacrilege, three sins in killing three.

    Cruel and sudden, hast thou since

    Purpled thy nail in blood of innoce?

    Wherein could this flea guilty be,

    Except in that drop which it suckd from thee?

    Yet thou triumphst, and sayst that thou

    Findst not thyself nor me the weaker now.

    Tis true ; then learn how false fears be ;

    Just so much honour, when thou yieldst to me,

    Will waste, as this fleas death took life from thee.

    <strong>THE GOOD-MORROW.</strong>

    I WONDER by my troth, what thou and I

    Did, till we loved ? were we not weand till then ?

    But suckd on try pleasures, childishly ?

    Or snorted we in the Seven Sleepers den ?

    Twas so ; but this, all pleasures fancies be ;

    If ever ay I did see,

    Which I desired, and got, twas but a dream of thee.

    And now good-morrow to our waking souls,

    Which watot one another out of fear ;

    For love all love of hts trols,

    And makes otle room an everywhere.

    Let sea-discoverers to new worlds have gone ;

    Let maps to other, worlds on worlds have shown ;

    Let us possess one world ; each hath one, and is one.

    My fa thine eye, thine in mine appears,

    And true plais do in the faces rest ;

    Where  we find two better hemispheres

    Without sharp north, without dei ?

    Whatever dies, was not mixd equally ;

    If our two loves be one, or thou and I

    Love so alike that none  sla, none  die.

    <strong>SONG.</strong>

    GO and catch a falling star,

    Get with child a mandrake root,

    Tell me where all past years are,

    Or who cleft the devils foot,

    Teach me to hear mermaids singing,

    Or to keep off envys stinging,

    And find

    What wind

    Serves to advan ho mind.

    If thou best born te sights,

    Things invisible to see,

    Ride ten thousand days and nights,

    Till age snow white hairs on thee,

    Thou, when thou returnst, wilt tell me,

    All strange wohat befell thee,

    And swear,

    No where

    Lives a woman true and fair.

    If thou findst one, let me know,

    Such a pilgr<tt></tt>image were sweet;

    Yet do not, I would not go,

    Though at  door we might meet,

    Though she were true, when you met her,

    And last, till you write your letter,

    Yet she

    Will be

    False, ere I e, to two, or three.

    <strong>WOMANS STANCY.</strong>

    NOW thou hast loved me one whole day,

    To-morrow when thou leavest, what wilt thou say ?

    Wilt thou then ae some new-made vow ?

    Or say that now

    We are not just those persons which we were ?

    Or that oaths made in reverential fear

    Of Love, and his wrath, any may forswear ?

    Or, as true deaths true marriages untie,

    So lovers tracts, images of those,

    Bind but till sleep, deaths image, them unloose ?

    Or, your owo justify,

    For having purposed ge and falsehood, you

    have no way but falsehood to be true ?

    Vain lunatic, against these scapes I could

    Dispute, and quer, if I would ;

    Which I abstain to do,

    For by to-morrow I may think so too.

    <strong>THE UAKING.</strong>

    I HAVE done one braver thing

    Than all the Worthies did ;

    A a braver theh spring,

    Which is, to keep that hid.

    It were but madness now to impart

    The skill of specular stone,

    When he, which  have learnd the art

    To cut it,  find none.

    So, if I now should utter this,

    Others—because no more

    Such stuff to work upon, there is—

    Would love but as before.

    But he who loveliness within

    Hath found, all outward loathes,

    For he who color loves, and skin,

    Loves but their oldest clothes.

    If, as I have, you also do

    Virtue in woman see,

    And dare love that, and say so too,

    And fet the He and She ;

    And if this love, though plac鑔 so,

    From profane men you hide,

    Which will no faith on this bestow,

    Or, if they do, deride ;

    Then you have done a braver thing

    Than all the Worthies did ;

    And a braver thence will spring,

    Which is, to keep that hid.

    <strong>THE SUN RISING.</strong>

    BUSY old fool, unruly Sun,

    Why dost thou thus,

    Through windows, and through curtains, call on us ?

    Must to thy motions lovers seasons run ?

    Saucy pedantic wretch, go chide

    Late school-boys and sour prentices,

    Go tell court-huhat the king will ride,

    Call try ants to harvest offices ;

    Love, all alike, no season knows nor clime,

    Nor hours, days, months, which are the rags of time.

    Thy beams so reverend, and strong

    Why shouldst thou think ?

    I could eclipse and cloud them with a wink,

    But that I would not lose her sight so long.

    If her eyes have not blihine,

    Look, and to-morrow late tell me,

    Whether both th Indias of spid mine

    Be where thou leftst them, or lie here with me.

    Ask for those kings whom thou sawst yesterday,

    And thou shalt hear, &quot;All here in one bed lay.&quot;

    Shes all states, and all princes I ;

    Nothing else is ;

    Princes do but play us ; pared to this,

    All honours mimic, all wealth alchemy.

    Thou, Sun, art half as happy as we,

    In that the worlds tracted thus ;

    Thine age asks ease, and sihy duties be

    To warm the world, thats done in warming us.

    Shio us, and thou art everywher<s>..</s>e ;

    This bed thy ter is, these walls thy sphere.

    <strong>THE INDIFFERENT.</strong>

    I  love both fair and brown ;

    Her whom abundance melts, and her whom warays ;

    Her who loves loneness best, and her who masks and plays ;

    Her whom the try formd, and whom the town ;

    Her who believes, and her who tries ;

    Her who still weeps with spongy eyes,

    And her who is dry cork, and never cries.

    I  love her, and her, and you, and you ;

    I  love any, so she be not true.

    Will no other vice tent you ?

    Will it not serve your turn to do as did your mothers ?

    Or have you all old vices spent, and now would find out others ?

    Or doth a fear that merue torment you ?

    O we are not, be not you so ;

    Let me—and do you—twenty know ;

    Rob me, but bi, a me go.

    Must I, who came to travel thh you,

    Grow your fixd subject, because you are true ?

    Venus heard me sigh this song ;

    And by loves sweetest part, variety, she swore,

    She heard not this till now ; and that it should be so no more.

    She went, examined, aurnd ere long,

    And sa<big>?</big>id, &quot;Alas ! some two or three

    Poor hereti love there be,

    Which think to stablish dangerous stancy.

    But I have told them, Since you will be true,

    You shall be true to them whore false to you. &quot;

 -3

    <strong>LOVES USURY.</strong>

    FOR every hour that thou wilt spare me now,

    I will allow,

    Usurious god of love, twenty to thee,

    When with my brown my gray hairs equal be.

    Till then, Love, let my be, a

    Me travel, sojourn, snatch, plot, have, fet,

    Resume my last years relict ; think that yet

    Wed never met.

    Let me think any rivals letter mine,

    And at  nine

    Keep midnights promise ; mistake by the way

    The maid, ahe lady of that delay ;

    Only let me love bbr></abbr>none ; no, not the sport

    From try grass to fitures of court,

    Or citys quelque-choses ; let not report

    My mind transport.

    This bargains good ; if when Im old, I be

    Inflamed by thee,

    If thine own honour, or my shame and pain,

    Thou covet most, at that age thou shalt gain.

    Do thy will then ; then subjed degree

    And fruit of love, Love, I submit to thee.

    Spare me till then ; Ill bear it, though she be

    Ohat love me.

    <strong>THE IZATION.</strong>

    Fods sake hold your tongue, a me love ;

    Or chide my palsy, or my gout ;

    My five gray hairs, or ruind fortune flout ;

    With wealth your state, your mind with arts improve ;

    Take you a course, get you a place,

    Observe his Honour, or his Grace ;

    Or the kings real, or his stampd face

    plate ; what you will, approve,

    So you will let me love.

    Alas ! alas ! whos injured by my love?

    What merts ships have my sighs drownd?

    Who says my tears have overflowd his ground?

    When did my colds a forward spring remove?

    When did the heats which my veins fill

    Add one more to the plaguy bill?

    Soldiers find wars, and lawyers find out still

    Litigious men, which quarrels move,

    Though she and I do love.

    Calls what you will, we are made such by love ;

    Call her one, me another fly,

    Were tapers too, and at our own cost die,

    And we in us find th eagle and the dove.

    The phoenix riddle hath more wit

    By us ; we two being one, are it ;

    So, to oral thing both sexes fit.

    We die and rise the same, and prove

    Mysterious by this love.

    We  die by it, if not live by love,

    And if unfit for tomb or hearse

    e will be fit for verse ;

    And if no piece of icle we prove,

    Well build in sos pretty rooms ;

    As well a well-wrought urn bees

    The greatest ashes, as half-acre tombs,

    And by these hymns, all shall approve

    Us ized for love ;

    And thus invoke us, &quot;You, whom reverend love

    Made one anothers hermitage ;

    You, to whom love eace, that now is rage ;

    Who did the whole worlds soul tract, and drove

    Into the glasses of your e></a>yes ;

    So made s<bdi></bdi>uch mirrors, and such spies,

    That they did all to you epitomize—

    tries, towns, courts beg from above

    A pattern of your love.&quot;

    <strong>THE TRIPLE FOOL.</strong>

    I am two fools, I know,

    For loving, and for saying so

    In whining poetry ;

    But wheres that wise man, that would not be I,

    If she would not deny ?

    Then as th earths inward narrow crooked lanes

    De sea waters fretful salt away,

    I thought, if I could draw my pains

    Through rhymes vexation, I should them allay.

    Grief brought to numbers ot be so fierce,

    For he tames it, that fetters it in verse.

    But when I have done so,

    Some man, his art and voice to show,

    Doth set and sing my pain ;

    And, by delighting many, frees again

    Grief, which verse did restrain.

    To love and grief tribute of verse belongs,

    But not of such as pleases when tis read.

    Both are increasèd by such songs,

    For both their triumphs so are published,

    And I, which was two fools, do so grow three.

    Who are a little wise, the best fools be.

    <strong>LOVERS INFINITENESS.</strong>

    IF yet I have not all thy love,

    Dear, I shall never have it all ;

    I ot breathe oher sigh, to move,

    Nor  i oher tear to fall ;

    And all my treasure, which should purchase thee,

    Sighs, tears, and oaths, aers I have spent ;

    Yet no more  be due to me,

    Than at the bargain made was meant.

    If then thy gift of love were partial,

    That some to me, some should to others fall,

    Dear, I shall never have thee all.

    Or if then thou gavest me all,

    All was but all, which thou hadst then ;

    But if in thy heart sihere be or shall

    New love created be by other men,

    Which have their stocks entire, and  in tears,

    In sighs, in oaths, aers, outbid me,

    This new love may beget new fears,

    For this love was not vowd by thee.

    A was, thy gift being general ;

    The ground, thy heart, is mine ; what ever shall

    Grow there, dear, I should have it all.

    Yet I would not have all yet.

    He that hath all  have no more ;

    And since my love doth every day admit

    New growth, thou shouldst have new rewards in store ;

    Thou st not every day give me thy heart,

    If thou st give it, then thou never gavest it ;

    Loves riddles are, that though thy heart depart,

    It stays at home, and thou with losing savest it ;

    But we will have a way more liberal,

    Than gis, to join them ; so we shall

    Be one, and one anothers all.

    <strong>SONG.</strong>

    SWEETEST love, I do not go,

    For weariness of thee,

    Nor in hope the world  show

    A fitter love for me ;

    But sihat I

    At the last must part, tis best,

    Thus to use myself i

    By feigned deaths to die.

    Yesternight the su hence,

    A is here to-day ;

    He hath no desire nor sense,

    Nor half so short a way ;

    Then fear not me,

    But believe that I shall make

    Speedier journey藏书网s, siake

    More wings and spurs than he.

    O how feeble is mans power,

    That if good fortune fall,

    ot add another hour,

    Nor a lost hour recall ;

    But e bad ce,

    And we join to it our strength,

    Aeach it art ah,

    Itself oer us to advance.

    When thou sighst, thou sighst not wind,

    But sighst my soul away ;

    When thou weepst, unkindly kind,

    My lifes blood doth decay.

    It ot be

    That thou lovest me as thou sayst,

    If in thine my life thou waste,

    That art the best of me.

    Let not thy divini

    Forethink me any ill ;

    Destiny may take thy part,

    And may thy fears fulfil.

    But think that we

    Are but turnd aside to sleep.

    They who one another keep

    Alive, neer parted be.

    <strong>THE LEGACY.</strong>

    WHEN last I died, and, dear, I die

    As often as from thee I go,

    Though it be but an ho

    —And lovers hours be full eternity—

    I  remember yet, that I

    Something did say, and something did bestow ;

    Though I be dead, which sent me, I might be

    Mine owor, and legacy.

    I heard me say, &quot;Tell her anon,

    That myself,&quot; that is you, not I,

    &quot; Did kill me,&quot; and when I felt me die,

    I bid me send my heart, when I was gone ;

    But I alas ! could there find none ;

    When I had rippd, and searchd where hearts should lie,

    It killd me again, that I who still was true

    In life, in my last will should  you.

    Yet I found something like a heart,

    But colours it, and ers had ;

    It was not good, it was not bad,

    It was eo none, and feart ;

    As good as could be made by art

    It seemd, and therefore for our loss be sad.

    I meant to send that heart instead of mine,

    But O !. no man could hold it, for twas thine.

 -4

    <strong>A FEVER.</strong>

    O ! DO not die, for I shall hate

    All women so, when thone,

    That thee I shall not celebrate,

    When I remember thou wast one.

    But yet thou st not die, I know ;

    To leave this world behind, is death ;

    But when thou from this world wilt go,

    The whole world vapours with thy breath.

    Or if, when thou, the worlds soul, gost,

    It stay, tis but thy carcase then ;

    The fairest woman, but thy ghost,

    But corrupt worms, the worthiest men.

    ling schools, that search what fire

    Shall burn this world, had he wit

    Unto this knowledge to aspire,

    That this her feaver might be it?

    A she ot waste by this,

    Nor lohis t wrong,

    For more corruption needful is,

    To fuel such a fever long.

    These burning fits but meteors be,

    Whose matter in thee is soo ;

    Thy beauty, and all parts, which are thee,

    Are ungeable firmament.

    Yet twas of my mind, seizing thee,

    Though it in thee ot perséver ;

    For I had rather owner be

    Of thee one hour, than all else ever.

    <strong>AIR AND ANGELS.</strong>

    TWICE or thrice had I loved thee,

    Before I khy face or name ;

    So in a voice, so in a shapeless flame

    Angels affect us oft, and worshippd be.

    Still when, to where thou wert, I came,

    Some lovely glorious nothing did I see.

    But since my soul, whose child love is,

    Takes limbs of flesh, and else could nothing do,

    More subtle than the parent is

    Love must not be, but take a body too ;

    And therefore what thou wert, and who,

    I bid Love ask, and now

    That it assume thy body, I allow,

    And fix itself in thy lip, eye, and brow.

    Whilst thus to ballast love I thought,

    And so more steadily to have gone,

    With wares which would sink admiration,

    I saw I had loves pinnace overfraught ;

    Thy every hair for love to work upon

    Is muuch ; some fitter must be sought ;

    For, nor in nothing, nor in things

    Extreme, and scattering bright,  love inhere ;

    Then as an.. angel fad wings

    Of air, not pure as it, yet pure doth wear,

    So thy love may be my loves sphere ;

    Just such disparity

    As is twixt airs and angels purity,

    Twixt womens love, and mens, will ever be.

    <strong>BREAK OF DAY.</strong>

    STAY, O sweet, and do not rise ;

    The light that shines es from thine eyes ;

    The day breaks not, it is my heart,

    Because that you and I must part.

    Stay, or else my joys will die,

    And perish in their infancy.

    [ANOTHER OF THE SAME.]

    TIS true, tis day ; what though it be?

    O, wilt thou therefore rise from me?

    Why should we rise because tis light?

    Did we lie down because twas night?

    Love, whi spite of darkness brought us hither,

    Should ie of light keep us together.

    Light hath no tongue, but is all eye ;

    If it could speak as well as spy,

    This were the worst that it could say,

    That being well I fain would stay,

    And that I loved my heart and honour so

    That I would not from him, that had them, go.

    Must busihee from hence remove?

    O ! thats the worst disease of love,

    The poor, the foul, the false, love

    Admit, but not the busied man.

    He wh<bdo></bdo>ich hath business, and makes love, doth do

    Such wrong, as when a married man doth woo.

    <strong>THE ANNIVERSARY.</strong>

    ALL kings, and all their favourites,

    All glory of honours, beauties, wits,

    The sun it self, which makes ti<bdo></bdo>me, as they pass,

    Is elder by a year now than it was

    When thou and I first one another saw.

    All other things to their destru draw,

    Only our love hath no decay ;

    This no to-morrow hath, nor yesterday ;

    Running it never runs from us away,

    But truly keeps his first, last, everlasting day.

    Two graves must hide thine and my corse ;

    If one might, death were no divorce.

    Alas ! as well as other princes, we

    —Who prinough in one another be—

    Must leave at last ih these eyes and ears,

    Oft fed with true oaths, and with sweet salt tears ;

    But souls where nothing dwells but love

    —All other thoughts being ihen shall prove

    This or a love increasèd there above,

    When bodies to their graves, souls from their graves remove.

    And then we shall be throughly blest ;

    But now no more than all the rest.

    Here upoh were kings, and  we

    be such kings, nor of such subjects be.

    Who is so safe as we? where none  do

    Treason to us, except one of us two.

    True and false fears let us refrain,

    Let us love nobly, and live, and add again

    Years and years unto years, till we attain

    To write threescore ; this is the sed of n.

    <strong>A VALEDI OF MY NAME, IN THE WINDOW.</strong>

    I.

    MY name engraved herein

    Doth tribute my firmo this glass,

    Which ever sihat charm hath been

    As hard, as that which graved it was ;

    Thine eye will give it priough, to mock

    The diamonds of either rock.

    II.

    Tis much that glass should be

    As all-fessing, and through-shine as I ;

    Tis more that it shows thee to thee,

    And clear reflects thee to thine eye.

    But all such rules loves magi undo ;

    Here you see me, and I am you.

    III.

    As no one point, nor dash,

    Which are but accessories to this name,

    The showers and tempests  outwash

    So shall all times fihe same ;

    You this entireness better may fulfill,

    Who have the pattern with you still.

    IV.

    Or if too hard and deep

    This learning be, for a scratame to teach,

    It as a givehs head keep,

    Lovers mortality to preach ;

    Or think this ragged bony o be

    My ruinous anatomy.

    V.

    Then, as all my souls be

    Emparadised in you—in whom alone

    I uand, and grow, and see—

    The rafters of my body, bone,

    Being still with you, the muscle, sinew, and vein

    Which tile this house, will e again.

    VI.

    Till my return repair

    And repact my scatterd body so,

    As all the virtuous powers which are

    Fixd iars are said to flow

    Into such characters as gravèd be

    When these stars have supremacy.

    VII.

    So sihis name was cut,

    When love and grief their exaltation had,

    No dainst this names influence shut.

    As much more loving, as more sad,

    Twill make thee ; and thou shouldst, till I return,

    Since I die daily, daily mourn.

    VIII.

    When thy insiderate hand

    Flings open this casement, with my trembling name,

    To look on one, whose wit or land

    New battery to thy heart may frame,

    Then think this name alive, and that thou thus

    In it offendst my Genius.

    IX.

    And when thy melted maid,

    Corrupted by thy lold and page,

    His letter at thy pillow hath laid,

    Disputed it, and tamed thy rage,

    And thou beginst to thaw towards him, for this,

    May my ep in, and hide his.

    X.

    And if this treason go

    To a ad that thou write again,

    In superscribing, this name flow

    Into thy fancy from the pane ;

    So, in fetting thou remembrest right,

    And unaware to me shalt write.

    XI.

    But glass and lines must be

    No means our firm substantial love to keep ;

    Near death inflicts this lethargy,

    And this I murmur in my sleep ;

    Ihis idle talk, to that I go,

    For dyialk often so.

 -5

    <strong>TWIHAM GARDEN.</strong>

    BLASTED with sighs, and surrounded with tears,

    Hither I e to seek the spring,

    And at mine eyes, and at mine ears,

    Receive such balms as else cure every thing.

    But O ! self-traitor, I d

    The spider Love, which transubstantiates all,

    And  vert manna to gall ;

    And that this place may thhly be thought

    True paradise, I have the serpent brought.

    Twere wholesomer for me that winter did

    Benight the glory of this place,

    And that a grave frost did forbid

    These trees to laugh and mock me to my face ;

    But that I may not this disgrace

    Endure, nor yet leave loving, Love, let me

    Some senseless piece of this place be ;

    Make me a mandrake, so I may grow here,

    Or a stone fountain weeping out my year.

    Hither with crystal phials, lovers, e,

    And take my tears, which are loves wine,

    And try your mistress tears at home,

    For all are false, that taste not just like mine.

    Alas ! hearts do not in eyes shine,

    Nor  you more judge womens thoughts by tears,

    Than by her shadow what she wears.

    O perverse sex, where none is true but she,

    Whos therefore true, because her truth kills me.

    <strong>VALEDI TO HIS BOOK.</strong>

    ILL tell thee now (dear love) what thou shalt do

    To anger destiny, as she doth us ;

    How I shall stay, though she eloighus,

    And how posterity shall know it too ;

    How thine may out-endure

    Sibyls glory, and obscure

    Her who from Pindar could allure,

    Ahrough whose help Lu is not lame,

    And her, whose book (they say) Homer did find, and name.

    Study our manuscripts, those myriads

    Of letters, which have past twixt thee and me ;

    Thence write our annals, and in them will be

    To all whom loves subliming fire invades,

    Rule and example found ;

    There the faith of any ground

    No schismatic will dare to wound,

    That sees, how Love this grace to us affords,

    To make, to keep, to use, to be these his records.

    This book, as long-lived as the elements,

    Or as the worlds form, this all-gravèd tome

    In cyphe<cite>?99ｌｉb?</cite>r writ, or new made idiom ;

    We for Loves clergy only are instruments ;

    When this book is<big>.９９lib.</big> made thus,

    Should again the ravenous

    Vandals and Goths invade us,

    Learning were safe ; in this our universe,

    Sight learn sces, spheres musigels verse.

    Here Loves divines—since all divinity

    Is love or wonder—may find all they seek,

    Whether abstract spiritual love they like,

    Their souls exhaled with what they do not see ;

    Or, loth so to amuse

    Faiths infirmity, they choose

    Something whic<s></s>h they may see and use ;

    For, though mihe heaven, where love doth sit,

    Beauty a veype may be to figure it.

    Here more than in their books may lawyers find,

    Both by what titles mistresses are ours,

    And hative these states devours,

    Transferrd from Love himself, to womankind ;

    Who, though from heart and eyes,

    They exact great subsidies,

    Forsake him who on them relies ;

    And for the cause, honour, or sce give ;

    Chimeras vain as they or their prerogative.

    Here statesmen—or of them, they which  read—

    May of their occupation find the grounds ;

    Love, and their art, alike it deadly wounds,

    If to sider what tis, one proceed.

    In both they do excel

    Who the present govern well,

    Whose weakness h, or dares tell ;

    In this thy book, such will there something see,

    As in the Bible some  find out alchemy.

    Thus vent thy thoughts ; abroad Ill study thee,

    As he removes far off, that great heights takes ;

    How great love is, presence best trial makes,

    But abseries how long this love will be ;

    To take a latitude

    Sun, or stars, are fitliest viewd

    At their brightest, but to clude

    Of longitudes, what other way have we,

    But to mark when and where the dark eclipses be?

    <strong>UNITY.</strong>

    GOOD we must love, and must hate ill,

    For ill is ill, and good good still ;

    But there are things indifferent,

    Which wee may her hate, nor love,

    But one, and then another prove,

    As we shall find our fancy bent.

    If then at first wise Nature had

    Made womeher good or bad,

    Then some wee might hate, and some choose ;

    But since she did them so create,

    That we may her love, nor hate,

    Only this rests, all all may use.

    If they were good it would be seen ;

    Good is as visible as green,

    And to all eyes itself betrays.

    If they were bad, they could not last ;

    Bad doth itself, and others waste ;

    So they deserve nor blame, nor praise.

    But they are ours as fruits are ours ;

    He that but tastes, he that devours,

    Ahat leaves all, doth as well ;

    ged loves are but ged sorts of meat ;

    And wheh the ker,

    Who doth not fling away the shell?

    <strong>LOVES GROWTH.</strong>

    I SCARCE believe my love to be so pure

    As I had thought it was,

    Because it doth endure

    Vicissitude, and season, as the grass ;

    Methinks I lied all winter, when I swore

    My love was infinite, if spring make it more.

    But if this medie, love, which cures all sorrow

    With more, not only be no quintessence,

    But mixd of all stuffs, vexing soul, or sense,

    And of the sun his active vigour borrow,

    Love抯 not so pure, and abstract as they use

    To say, which have no mistress but their Muse ;

    But as all else, being elemeoo,

    Love sometimes would plate, sometimes do.

    A no greater, but more emi,

    Love by the spring is grown ;

    As in the firmament

    Stars by the su enlarged, but shown,

    Gentle love deeds, as blossoms on a bough,

    From loves awakened root do bud out now.

    If, as in water stirrd more circles be

    Produced by one, love such additions take,

    Those l..ike so many spheres but one heaven make,

    For they are all trito thee ;

    And though each spring do add to love new heat,

    As princes do in times of a get

    axes, a them not in peace,

    No winter shall abate this spring抯 increase.

    <strong>LOVES EXGE.</strong>

    LOVE, any devil else but you

    Would fiven soul give something too.

    At court your fellows every day

    Give th art of rhyming, huntsmanship, or play,

    For them which were their own before ;

    Only I have nothing, which gave more,

    But am, alas ! by being lowly, lower.

    I ask no dispensation now,

    To falsify a tear, h, or vow ;

    I do not sue from thee to draw

    A  non obstante on natures law ;

    These are prerogatives, they inhere

    In thee and thine ; none should forswear

    Except that he Loves minion were.

    Give me thy weakness, make me blind,

    Both ways, as thou and thine, in eyes and mind ;

    Love, let me never know that this

    Is love, or, that love childish is ;

    Let me not know that others know

    That she knows my paines, lest that so

    A tender shame make me mine own new woe.

    If thou give nothing, yet thou rt just,

    Because I would not thy first motions trust ;

    Small towns which stand stiff, till great shot

    Enforce them, by wars law dition not ;

    Su Loves warfare is my case ;

    I may not article frace,

    Having put Love at last to show this face.

    This face, by which he could and

    And ge th idolatry of any land,

    This face, which, wheresoeer it es,

    call vowd men from cloisters, dead from tombs,

    A both poles at once, and store

    Deserts with cities, and make more

    Mines in the earth, than quarries were before.

    For this Love is enraged with me,

    Yet kills not ; if I must example be

    To future rebels, if th unborn

    Must learn by my being cut up and torn,

    Kill, and dissect me, Love ; for this

    Tainst thine own end is ;

    Rackd carcasses make ill anatomies.

    <strong>FINED LOVE.</strong>

    Some man unworthy to be possessor

    Of old or new love, himself being false or weak,

    Thought his pain and shame would be lesser,

    If on womankind he might his anger wreak ;

    And thence a law did grow,

    One might but one man know ;

    But are other creatures so?

    Are sun, moon, or stars by law forbidden

    To smile where they list, or lend away their light?

    Are birds divorced or are they chidden

    If they leave their mate, or lie abroad a night?

    Beasts do no jointures lose

    Though they new lovers choose ;

    But we are made worse than those.

    Whgd fair ships to lie in harbours,

    And not to seek lands, or not to deal with all?

    Or built fair houses, set trees, and arbours,

    Only to lock up, or else to let them fall?

    Good is not good, unless

    A thousand it possess,

    But doth waste with greediness.

    <strong>THE DREAM.</strong>

    DEAR love, for nothihan thee

    Would I have broke this happy dream ;

    It was a theme

    For reason, much to for fantasy.

    Therefore thou wakedst me wisely ; yet

    My dream thou brokest not, but ti it.

    Thou art so true that thoughts of thee suffice

    To make dreams truths, and fables histories ;

    Ehese arms, for sihou thoughtst it best,

    Not to dream all my dream, lets act the rest.

    As lightning, or a tapers light,

    Thine eyes, and not thy noise waked me ;

    Yet I thought thee

    —For thou lovest truth—an angel, at first sight ;

    But when I saw thou sawst my heart,

    And k <bdo></bdo>my thoughts beyond an angels art,

    When thou k what I dreamt, when thou k when

    Excess of joy would wake me, and camest then,

    I must fess, it could not choose but be

    Profao think thee any thing but thee.

    ing and staying showd thee, thee,

    But rising makes me doubt, that now

    Thou art not thou.

    That love is weak where fears as strong as he ;

    Tis not all spirit, pure and brave,

    If mixture it of fear, shame, honour have ;

    Perce as torches, which must ready be,

    Men light and put out, so thou dealst with me ;

    Thou camest to kindle, gost to e ; then I

    Will dream that hope again, but else would die.

 -6

    <strong>A VALEDI OF WEEPING.</strong>

    LET me pour forth

    My tears before thy face, whilst I stay here,

    For thy face s them, and thy stamp they bear,

    And by this mihey are something worth.

    For thus they be

    Pregnant of thee ;

    Fruits of much grief they are, emblems of more ;

    When a tear falls, that thou fallst which it bore ;

    So thou and I are nothing then, when on a divers shore.

    On a round ball

    A workman, that hath copies by,  lay

    An Europe, Afrid an Asia,

    And quickly make that, which was nothing, all.

    So doth each tear,

    Which thee doth wear,

    A globe, yea world, by that impression grow,

    Till thy tears mixd with mine do overflow

    This world, by waters sent from thee, my heaven dissolvèd so.

    O ! more than moon,

    Draw not up seas to drown me in thy sphere ;

    Weep me not dead, in thine arms, but forbear

    To teach the sea, what it may do too soon ;

    Let not the wind

    Example find

    To do me more harm than it purposeth :

    Sihou and I sigh one anothers breath,

    Whhs most is cruellest, and hastes the others death.

    <strong>LOVES ALCHEMY.</strong>

    Some that have deeper diggd loves mihan I,

    Say, where his tric happiness doth lie<u>９９ｌib?</u>.

    I have loved, and got, and told,

    But should I love, get, tell, till I were old,

    I should not find that hidden mystery.

    O ! tis imposture all ;

    And as no chemic yet th elixir got,

    But glorifies his pregna<dfn></dfn>nt pot,

    If by the way to him befall

    Some odoriferous thing, or medial,

    So, lovers dream a rid long delight,

    But get a winter-seeming summers night.

    Our ease, our thrift, our honour, and our day,

    Shall we for this vain bubbles shadow pay?

    Ends love in this, that my man

    be as happy as I , if he

    Ehe short s of a bridegrooms play?

    That loving wretch that swears,

    Tis not the bodies marry, but the minds,

    Which he in her angelids,

    Would swear as justly, that he hears,

    In that days rude hoarse minstrelsy, the spheres.

    Hope not for mind in women ; at their best,

    Sweetness and wit they are, but mummy, possessd.

    <strong>THE CURSE.</strong>

    WHuesses, thinks, or dreams, he knows

    Who is my mibbr></abbr>stress, wither by this curse ;

    Him, only for his purse

    May some dull whore to love dispose,

    And then yield unto all that are his foes ;

    May he be sd by one, whom all else s,

    Forswear to others, what to her he hath sworn,

    With fear of missing, shame of getting, torn.

    Madness his sorrow, gout his cramps, may he

    Make, by but thinking who hath made him such ;

    And may he feel no touch

    Of sce, but of fame, and be

    Anguishd, not that twas sin, but that twas she ;

    Or may he for her virtue reverence

    Ohat hates him only for impotence,

    And equal traitors be she and his sense.

    May he dream treason, and believe that he

    Meant to perform it, and fesses, and die,

    And no record tell why ;

    His sons, whione of his may be,

    I nothing but his infamy ;

    Or may he so long parasites have fed,

    That he would faiheirs whom he hath bred,

    And at the last be circumcised for bread.

    The venom of all stepdames, gamesters gall,

    What tyrants and their subjects interwish,

    lants, mine, beasts, fowl, fish,

    tribute, all ill, which all

    Prophets or poets spake, and all which shall

    Be annexd in schedules unto this by me,

    Fall on that man ; For if it be a she

    Nature beforehand hath out-cursèd me.

    <strong>THE MESSAGE.</strong>

    SEND home my long strayd eyes to me,

    Which, O ! too long have dwelt on thee ;

    Yet sihere they have learnd such ill,

    Such forced fashions,

    And false passions,

    That they be

    Made by thee

    Fit for no good sight, keep them still.

    Send home my harmless heart again,

    Whio unworthy thought could stain ;

    Which if it be taught by thine

    To make jestings

    Of protestings,

    And break both

    Word and oath,

    Keep it, for then tis none of mine.

    Yet send me back my heart and eyes,

    That I may know, ahy lies,

    And may laugh and joy, when thou

    Art in anguish

    And dost languish

    For some one

    That will none,

    Or prove as false as thou art now.

    <strong>A NOAL UPON ST. LUCYS DAY,</strong>

    <strong>BEING THE SHORTEST DAY.</strong>

    TIS the years midnight, and it is the days,

    Lucys, who scarce seven hours herself unmasks ;

    The sun is spent, and now his flasks

    Send forth light squibs, no stant rays ;

    The worlds whole sap is sunk ;

    The general balm th hydroptic earth hath drunk,

    Whither, as to the beds-feet, life is shrunk,

    Dead and interrd ; yet all these seem to laugh,

    pared with me, who am their epitaph.

    Study me then, you who shall lovers be

    At the  world, that is, at the  spring ;

    For I am every dead thing,

    In whom Love wrought new alchemy.

    For his art did express

    A quintessence even from nothingness,

    From dull privations, and leainess ;

    He ruind me, and I am re-begot

    Of absence, darkness, death—things which are not.

    All others, from all things, draw all thats good,

    Life, soul, form, spirit, whehey being have ;

    I, by Loves limbec, am the grave

    Of all, thats nothing. Oft a flood

    Have ept, and so

    Drownd the whole world, us two ; oft did we grow,

    To be two chaoses, when we did show

    Care to aught else ; and often absences

    Withdrew our souls, and made us carcasses.

    But I am by her death—which word wrongs her—

    Of the first nothing the elixir grown ;

    Were I a man, that I were one

    I needs must know ; I should prefer,

    If I were a,

    Some ends, some means ; yea plants, yea stones detest,

    And love ; all, all some properties i.

    If I an ordinary nothing were,

    As shadow, a light, and body must be here.

    But I am none ; nor will my sun renew.

    You lovers, for whose sake the lesser sun

    At this time to the Goat is run

    To fetew lust, and give it you,

    Enjoy your summer all,

    Since she enjoys her long nights festival.

    Let me prepare towards her, a me call

    This hour her vigil, and her eve, sihis

    Both the years and the days deep midnight is.

    <strong>WITCHCRAFT BY A PICTURE.</strong>

    I FIX mine eye on thine, and there

    Pity my picture burning in thine eye ;

    My picture drownd in a transparent tear,

    When I look lower I espy ;

    Hadst thou the wicked skill

    By pictures made and marrd, to kill,

    How many ways mightst thou perform thy will?

    But now Ive drunk thy sweet salt tears,

    And though thou pour more, Ill depart ;

    My picture vanished, vanish all fears

    That I  be endamaged by that art ;

    Though thou retain of me

    One picture <s></s>more, yet that will be,

    Being in thine ow, from all malice free.

    <strong>THE BAIT.</strong>

    E live with me, and be my love,

    And we will some new pleasures prove

    Of golden sands, and crystal brooks,

    With silken lines and silver hooks.

    There will the river whispring run

    Warmd by thy eyes, more than the sun ;

    And there th enamourd fish will stay,

    Begging themselves they may betray.

    When thou wilt swim in that live bath,

    Each fish, which every el hath,

    Will amorously to thee swim,

    Gladder to catch thee, than thou him.

    If thou, to be so see loth,

    By sun or moon, thou dark both,

    And if myself have leave to see,

    I need not their light, having thee.

    Let others freeze with angling reeds,

    And cut their legs with shells and weeds,

    Or treacherously poor fish beset,

    With strangling snare, or windowy .

    Let coarse bold hands from slimy

    The bedded fish in banks out-wrest ;

    Or curious traitors, sleeve-silk flies,

    Bewitch poor fishes wandring eyes.

    For thee, thou  no such deceit,

    For thou thyself art thine own bait :

    That fish, that is not catchd thereby,

    Alas ! is wiser far than I.

    <strong>THE APPARITION.</strong>

    WHEN by thy s, O murdress, I am dead,

    And that thou thinkst thee free

    From all solicitation from me,

    Then shall my ghost e to thy bed,

    And thee, feigal, in worse arms shall see :

    Then thy sick taper will begin to wink,

    And he, whose thou art then, being tired before,

    Will, if thou stir, or pinch to wake him, think

    Thou callst for more,

    And, in false sleep, will from thee shrink :

    And then, poor aspeeglected thou

    Bathed in a cold quicksilver sweat wilt lie,

    A verier ghost than I.

    What I will say, I will not tell thee now,

    Lest that preserve thee ; and since my love is spent,

    Id rather thou shouldst painfully repent,

    Than by my threatenings rest still i.

 -7

    <strong>THE BROKE.</strong>

    He is stark mad, whoever says,

    That he hath been in love an hour,

    Yet not that love so soon decays,

    But that it  ten in less space devour ;

    Who will believe me, if I swear

    That I have had the plague a year?

    Who would not laugh at me, if I should say

    I saw a flash of powder burn a day?

    Ah, what a trifle is a heart,

    If oo loves hands it e !

    All riefs alloart

    To riefs, and ask themselves but some ;

    They e to us, but us love draws ;

    He swallows us and never chaws ;

    By him, as by d shot, whole ranks do die ;

    He is the tyrant pike, our hearts the fry.

    If twere not so, what did bee

    Of my heart when I first saw thee?

    I brought a heart into the room,

    But from the room I carried h me.

    If it had goo thee, I know

    Mine would have taught thi to show

    More pity unto me ; but Love, alas !

    At one first blow did shiver it as glass.

    Yet nothing  to nothing fall,

    Nor any place be empty quite ;

    Therefore I think my breast hath all

    Those pieces still, though they be not unite ;

    And now, as broken glasses show

    A hundred lesser faces, so

    My rags of heart  like, wish, and adore,

    But after one such love,  love no more.

    <strong>THE ECSTACY.</strong>

    WHERE, like a pillow on a bed,

    A pregnant bank swelld up, to rest

    The violets reing head,

    Sat we two, one anothers best.

    Our hands were firmly ted

    By a fast balm, which thence did spring ;

    Our eye-beams twisted, and did thread

    Our eyes upon one double string.

    So to engraft our hands, as yet

    Was all the means to make us one ;

    And pictures in our eyes to get

    Was all our propagation.

    As, twixt two equal armies, Fate

    Suspends uain victory,

    Our souls—which to advaheir state,

    Were go—hung twixt her and me.

    And whilst our souls iate there,

    We like sepulchral statues lay ;

    All day, the same our postures were,

    And<cite>?9９liｂ?</cite> we said nothing, all the day.

    If any, so by love refined,

    That he souls language uood,

    And by good love were grown all mind,

    Within ve distaood,

    He—though he knew not which soul spake,

    Because both meant, both spake the same—

    Might thence a new co take,

    And part far purer than he came.

    This ecstasy doth unperplex

    (We said) and tell us what we love ;

    We see by this, it was not sex ;

    We see, we saw not, what did move :

    But as all several souls tain

    Mixture of things they know not what,

    Love these mixd souls doth mix again,

    And makes both one, each this, and that.

    A single violet transplant,

    The strength, the colour, and the size—

    All which before oor and st—

    Redoubles still, and multiplies.

    When love with one another so

    Interanimates two souls,

    That abler soul, which theh flow,

    Defects of loneliness trols.

    We then, who are this new soul, know,

    Of what we are posed, and made,

    For th atomies of which we grow

    Are souls, whom no ge  invade.

    But, O alas ! so long, so far,

    Our bodies why do we forbear?

    They are ours, though not we ; we are

    Th intelligehey the spheres.

    We owe them thanks, because they thus

    Did us, to us, at first vey,

    Yielded their senses force to us,

    Nor are dross to us, but allay.

    On man heavens influence works not so,

    But that it first imprints the air ;

    For soul into the soul may flow,

    Though it to body first repair.

    As our blood labours to beget

    Spirits, as lik<bdi></bdi>e souls as it  ;

    Because such fingers o knit

    That s></a>ubtle knot, which makes us man ;

    So must pure lovers souls desd

    To affes, and to faculties,

    Which sense may read apprehend,

    Else<tt>.t> a great prin prison lies.

    To our bodies turhen, that so

    Weak men on love reveald may look ;

    Loves mysteries in souls do grow,

    But yet the body is his book.

    And if some lover, such as we,

    Have heard this dialogue of one,

    Let him still mark us, he shall see

    Small ge wheo bodies gone.

    <strong>LOVES DEITY.</strong>

    I LONG to talk with some old lhost,

    Who died before the god of love was born.

    I ot think that he, who then loved most,

    Sunk so low as to love one which did s.

    But sihis god produced a destiny,

    And that viature, , lets it be,

    I must love her that loves not me.

    Sure, they which made him god, meant not so much,

    Nor he in his young godhead practised it.

    But when an even flame two hearts did touch,

    His office was indulgently to fit

    Actives to passives. C<bdo>.99liｂ?</bdo>orrespondency

    Only his subject was ; it ot be

    Love, till I love her, who loves me.

    But every mod will end

    His vast prerogative as far as Jove.

    Te, to lust, to write to, to end,

    All is the purlieu of the god of love.

    O ! were we wakend by this tyranny

    To ungod this child again, it could not be

    I should love her, who loves not me.

    Rebel and atheist too, why murmur I,

    As though I felt the worst that love could do?

    Love might make me leave loving, ht try

    A deeper plague, to make her love me too ;

    Which, since she loves before, Im loth to see.

    Falsehood is worse than hate ; and that must be,

    If she whom I love, should love me.

 -8

    <strong>LOVES DIET.</strong>

    TO what a cumbersome unwieldiness

    And burdenous corpulence my love had grown,

    But that I did, to make it less,

    And keep it in proportion,

    Give it a diet, made it feed upon

    That which love worst endures, discretion

    Above one sigh a day I allowd him not,

    Of which my fortune, and my faults had part ;

    And if sometimes by stealth he got

    A she sigh from my mistress heart,

    And thought to feast upon that, I let him see

    Twas her very sound, nor meant to me.

    If he wrung from me a tear, I bri so

    With s and shame, that him it nourishd not ;

    If he suckd hers, I let him know

    Twas not a tear which he had got ;

    His drink was terfeit, as was his meat ;

    For eyes, which roll towards all, weep not, but sweat.

    Whatever he would dictate I writ that,

    But burnt <u>藏书网</u>her letters when she writ to me ;

    And if that favour made him fat,

    I said, &quot;If any title be

    veyd by this, ah ! what doth it avail,

    To be the fortieth name in aail?&quot;

    Thus I reclaimd my buzzard love, to fly

    At what, and when, and how, and where I choose.

    Now negligent of sports I lie,

    And now, as other falers use,

    I spring a mistress, swear, write, sigh, and weep ;

    And the game killd, or lost, go talk or sleep.

    <strong>THE WILL. </strong>

    BEFORE I sigh my last gasp, let me breathe,

    Great Love, some legacies ; I here bequeath

    Mine eyes tus, if mine eyes  see ;

    If they be blind, then, Love, I give them thee ;

    My too Fame ; to ambassadors mine ears ;

    To women, or the sea, my tears ;

    Thou, Love, hast taught me heretofore

    By making me serve her who had twenty more,

    That I should give to none, but such as had too much before.

    My stancy I to the plas give ;

    My truth to them who at the court do live ;

    My iy and openness,

    To Jesuits ; <s>?９９ｌｉｂ?</s>to buffoons my pensiveness ;

    My sileo any, who abroad hath been ;

    My moo a Capu :

    Thou, Love, taughtst me, by appointing me

    To love there, where no love received  be,

    Only to give to such as have an incapacity.

    My faith I give to Roman Catholics ;

    All my good works unto the Schismatics

    Of Amsterdam ; my best civility

    And courtship to an Uy ;

    My modesty I give to soldiers bare ;

    My patie gamesters share :

    Thou, Love, taughtst me, by making me

    Love her that holds my love disparity,

    Only to give to those that t my gifts indignity.

    I give my reputation to those

    Which were my friends ; mine industry to foes ;

    To sen I bequeath my doubtfulness ;

    My siess to physis, or excess ;

    To nature all that I in rhyme have writ ;

    And to my pany my wit :

    Thou, Love, by making me adore

    Her, who begot this love in me before,

    Taughtst me to make, as though I gave, when I do but restore.

    To him for whom the passing-bell olls,

    I give my physic books ; my written rolls

    Of moral sels I to Bedlam give ;

    My brazen medals unto them which live

    In want of bread ; to them which pass among

    All fners, mine English tongue :

    Though, Love, by making me love one

    Who thinks her friendship a fit portion

    For younger lovers, dost my gifts thus disproportion.

    Therefore Ill give no more, but Ill undo

    Thbbr>..</abbr>e world by dying, because love dies too.

    Then all your beauties will be no more worth

    Than gold in mines, where h draw it forth ;

    And all yrao more use shall have,

    Than a sun-dial in a grave :

    Thou, Love, taughtst me by making me

    Love her who doth  both me and thee,

    To i, and practise this one way, to annihilate all three.

    <strong>THE FUNERAL.</strong>

    WHOEVER es to shroud me, do not harm,

    Nor question much,

    That subtle wreath of hair, which s my arm ;

    The mystery, the sign, you must not touch ;

    For tis my outward soul,

    Viceroy to that, which then to heaven being gone,

    Will leave this to trol

    Ahese limbs, her provinces, from dissolution.

    For if the sihread my brais fall

    Through every part

    tie those parts, and make me one of all,

    Those hairs which upward grew, and strength and art

    Have from a better brain,

    better do t ; except she meant that I

    By this should know my pain,

    As prisohen are manacled, when theyre nd to die.

    Whateer she meant by it, bury it with me,

    For since I am

    Loves martyr, it might breed idolatry,

    If into other hands these relics came.

    As twas humility

    To afford to it all that a soul  do,

    So tis some bravery,

    That since you would have non<samp>藏书网</samp>e of me, I bury some of you.

    <strong>THE BLOSSOM.</strong>

    LITTLE thinkst thou, poor flower,

    Whom Ive watchd six or seven days,

    Ahy birth, and seen what every hour

    Gave to thy growth, thee to this height to raise,

    And now dost laugh and triumph on this bough,

    Little thinkst thou,

    That it will freeze anon, and that I shall

    To-morrow find thee fallen, or not at all.

    Little thinkst thou, poor heart,

    That labourest yet to le thee,

    And thinkst by h here to get a part

    In a forbidden or forbidding tree,

    And hopest her stiffness by long siege to bow,

    Little thinkst thou

    That thou to-morrow, ere the sun doth wake,

    Must with the sun and me a jourake.

    But thou, which lovest to be

    Subtle to plague thyself, wilt say,

    Alas ! if you must go, whats that to me?

    Here lies my business, and here I will stay

    You go to friends, whose love and means present

    Various tent

    To your eyes, ears, and taste, and every part ;

    If then your body go, what need your heart?

    Well then, stay here ; but know,

    When thou hast stayd and dohy most,

    A hinki, that makes no show,

    Is to a woman but a kind of ghost.

    How shall she know my heart ; or having none,

    Know thee for one?

    Practice may make her know some other part ;

    But take my word, she doth not know a heart.

    Meet me in London, then,

    Twenty days hence, and thou shalt see

    Me fresher and more fat, by being with men,

    Than if I had stayd still with her and thee.

    Fods sake, if you , be you so too ;

    I will give you

    There to another friend, whom we shall find

    As glad to have my body as my mind.

    THE PRIMROSE, BEING AT MONTGOMERY CASTLE

    UPON THE HILL, ON WHICH IT IS SITUATE.

    UPON this Primrose hill,

    Where, if heaven would distil

    A shower of rain, each several drop might go

    To his own primrose,<s>..</s> and grow manna so ;

    And where their form, and their infinity

    Make a terrestrial galaxy,

    As the small stars do in the sky ;

    I walk to find a true love ; and I see

    That tis not a mere woman, that is she,

    But must or more or less than woman be.

    Yet know I not, which flower

    I wish ; a six, or four ;

    For should my true-love less than woman be,

    She were scarything ; and then, should she

    Be more than woman, she would get above

    All thought of sex, and think to move

    My heart to study her, and not to love.

    Both these were monsters ; sihere must reside

    Falsehood in woman, I could more abide,

    She were by art, than nature falsified.

    Live, primrose, then, and thrive

    With thy true number five ;

    And, woman, whom this flower doth represent,

    With this mysterious number be tent ;

    Ten is the farthest number ; if half ten

    Belongs to eaan, then

    Eaan may take half us men ;

    Or—if this will not serve their turn—since all

    Numbers are odd, or even, and they fall

    First into five, women may take us all.

 -9

    <strong>THE RELIC.</strong>

    WHEN my grave is broke up again

    Some sed guest to eain,

    —Fraves have learnd that woman-head,

    To be to more than one a bed—

    Ahat digs it, spies

    A bracelet ht hair about the bone,

    Will he not let us alone,

    And think that there a loving couple lies,

    Who thought that this device might be some way

    To make their souls at the last busy da>..</a>y

    Meet at this grave, and make a little stay?

    If this fall in a time, or land,

    Where mass-devotion doth and,

    Thehat di９９lib?gs us up will bring

    Us to the bishop or the king,

    To make us relics ; then

    Thou shalt be<var></var> a Mary Magdalen, and I

    A something else thereby ;

    All women shall adore us, and some men.

    And, si such time miracles are sought,

    I would have that age by this paper taught

    What miracles we harmless lovers wrought.

    First we loved well and faithfully,

    Yet knew not what we loved, nor why ;

    Difference of sex we never knew,

    No more than guardian angels do ;

    ing and going we

    Perce might kiss, but not between those meals ;

    Our hands ouchd the seals,

    Whiature, injured by late law, sets free.

    These miracles we did ; but now alas !

    All measure, and all language, I should pass,

    Should I tell what a miracle she was.

    <strong>THE DAMP.</strong>

    WHEN I am dead, and doctors know not why,

    And my friends curiosity

    Will have me cut up to survey each part,

    When they shall find your picture in my heart,

    You think a sudden damp of love

    Will thh all their senses move,

    And work on them as me, and so prefer

    Your murder to the name of massacre,

    Poor victories ; but if you dare be brave,

    And pleasure in your quest have,

    First kill th enormous giant, your Disdain ;

    Ah entress Honour,  be slain ;

    And like a Goth and Vandal rise,

    Deface records and histories

    Of your own arts and triumphs over men,

    And without such advantage kill me then,

    For I could muster up, as well as you,

    My giants, and my witches too,

    Which are vast stand Seess ;

    But these I her look for nor profess ;

    Kill me as woma me die

    As a mere man ; do you but try

    Your passive valour, and you shall find then,

    Naked you have odds enough of any man.

    <strong>THE DISSOLUTION.</strong>

    SHEs dead ; and all which die

    To their first elements resolve ;

    And we were mutual elements to us,

    And made of one another.

    My body then doth hers involve,

    And those things whereof I sist hereby

    In me abundant grow, and burdenous,

    And nourish not, but smother.

    My fire of passion, sighs of air,

    Water of tears, ahly sad despair,

    Which my materials be,

    But near worn out by loves security,

    She, to my loss, doth by her death repair.

    And I might live long wretched so,

    But that my fire doth with my fuel grow.

    Now, as those active kings

    Whose fn quest treasure brings,

    Receive more, and spend more, and soo break,

    This —which I am amazed that I  speak—

    This death, hath with my store

    My use increased.

    And so my soul, more early released,

    Will outstrip hers ; as bullets flown before

    A latter bullet may oertake, the powder being more.

    <strong>A JET RI.</strong>

    THOU art not so black as my heart,

    Nor half so brittle as her heart, thou art ;

    What wouldst thou say ? shall both our properties by thee be spoke,

    —Nothing more endless, nothing sooner broke?

    Marriage rings are not of this stuff ;

    Oh, why should ought less precious, or less tough

    Figure our loves ? except in thy hou have bid it say,

    &quot;—Im cheap, and nought but fashion ; fling me away.&quot;

    Yet stay with me sihou art e,

    Circle this fiop, which didst her thumb ;

    Be justly proud, and gladly safe, that thou dost dwell with me ;

    She that, O ! broke her faith, would soohee.

    <stroIVE LOVE.</strong>

    I oopd so low, as they

    Whi an eye, cheek, lip,  prey ;

    Seldom to them which soar no higher

    Than virtue, or the mind to admire.

    For sense and uanding may

    Know what gives fuel to their fire ;

    My love, though silly, is more brave ;

    For may I miss, wheneer I crave,

    If I know yet what I would have.

    If that be simply perfectest,

    Which  by no way be expressd

    But ives, my love is so.

    To all, which all love, I say no.

    If any who deciphers best,

    What we know not—ourselves— know,

    Let him teach me that nothing. This

    As yet my ease and fort is,

    Though I speed not, I iss.

    <strong>THE PROHIBITION.</strong>

    TAKE heed of loving me ;

    At least remember, I forbade it thee ;

    Not that I shall repair my unthrifty waste

    Of breath and blood, upon thy sighs and tears,

    By being to thee then what to me thou wast ;

    But so great joy our life at owears.

    Thehy love by my death frustrate be,

    If thou love me, take heed of loving me.

    Take heed of hating me,

    Or too much triumph in the victory ;

    Not that I shall be mine own officer,

    And hate with hate agaialiate ;

    But thou wilt lose the style of queror,

    If I, thy quest, perish by thy hate.

    The my being nothing lessen thee,

    If thou hate me, take heed of hating me.

    Yet love and hate me too ;

    So these extremes shall heir office do ;

    Love me, that I may die the gentler way ;

    Hate me, because thy loves too great for me ;

    Or let these two, themselves, not me, decay ;

    So shall I live thy sta<bdo>藏书网</bdo>ge, not triumph be.

    Lest thou thy love and hate, and me undo,

    O let me live, yet love and hate me too.

    <strong>THE EXPIRATION.</strong>

    SO, so, break off this last lamenting kiss,

    Which sucks two souls, and vapours both away ;

    Turn, thou ghost, that way, a me turn this,

    A ourselves benight our happiest day.

    We ask none leave to love ; nor will we owe

    Any so cheap a death as saying, &quot;Go.&quot;

    Go ; and if that word have not quite killed thee,

    Ease me with death, by bidding me go too.

    Or, if it have, let my word work on me,

    And a just offi a murderer do.

    Except it be too late, to kill me so,

    Being double dead, going, and bidding, &quot;Go.&quot;

    <strong>THE PUTATION.</strong>

    FOR my first twenty years, since yesterday,

    I scarce believed thou couldst be gone away ;

    For forty more I fed on favours past,

    And forty on hopes that thou wouldst they might last ;

    Tears drownd one hundred, and sighs blew out two ;

    A thousand, I did her think nor do,

    Or not divide, all being ohought of you ;

    Or in a thousand more, fot that too.

    Yet call not this long life ; but think that I

    Am, by being dead, immortal ;  ghosts die ?

    <strong>THE PARADOX.</strong>

    NO lover saith, I love, nor any other

    judge a perfect lover ;

    He thinks that else none  or will agree,

    That any loves but he ;

    I ot say I loved, for who  say

    He was killd yesterday.

    Love with excess of heat, more young than old,

    Death kills with too much cold ;

    We die but once, and who loved last did die,

    He that saith, twice, doth lie ;

    For though he seem to move, and stir a while,

    It doth the sense beguile.

    Such life is like the light which bideth yet

    When the lifes light is set,

    Or like the heat which fire in solid matter

    Leaves behind, two hours after.

    Once I loved and died ; and am now bee

    Miaph and tomb ;

    Here dead meheir last, and so do I ;

    Love-slain, lo ! here I die.

    <strong>SONG.</strong>

    SOULS joy, now I am gone,

    And you alone,

    —Which ot be,

    Since I must leave myself with thee,

    And carry thee with me—

    Yet when unto our eyes

    Absence denies

    Each others sight,

    And makes to us a stant night,

    When others ge to light ;

    O give no way to grief,

    But let belief

    Of mutual love

    This woo the vulgar prove,

    Our bodies, not we move.

    Let not thy wit beweep

    Words but sense deep ;

    For when we miss

    By distance our hopes joining bliss,

    Even then our souls shall kiss ;

    Fools have no means to meet,

    But by their feet ;

    Why should our clay

    Over our spirits so much sway,

    To tie us to that way?

    O give no way to grief, &amp;c.

    <strong>FAREWELL TO LOVE.</strong>

    WHILST yet to prove

    I thought there was some deity in love,

    So did I reverence, and gave

    Worship ; as atheists at their dying hour

    Call, what they ot name, an unknown power,

    As ignorantly did I crave.

    Thus when

    Things not yet known are coveted by men,

    Our desires give them fashion, and so

    As they wax lesser, fall, as they size, grow.

    But, from late fair,

    His highness sitting in a golden chair,

    Is not less cared for after three days

    By children, thahing which lovers so

    Blindly admire, and with such worship woo ;

    Being had, enjoying it decays ;

    And thence,

    What before pleased them all, takes but one sense,

    And that so lamely, as it leaves behind

    A kind of sorrowing dulo the mind.

    Ah ot we,

    As well as cocks and lions, jod be

    After such pleasures, unless wise

    Nature decreed—since each such act, they say,

    Dimihe length of life a day—

    This ; as she would man should despise

    The sport,

    Because that other curse of being short,

    And only for a minute made to be

    Eager, desires to raise posterity.

    Siny mind

    Shall not desire what no man else  find ;

    Ill no more dote and run

    To pursue things which had endamaged me ;

    And when I e where moviies be,

    As men do when the summers sun

    Grows great,

    Though I admire their greatness, shun their heat.

    Each place  afford shadows ; if all fail,

    Tis but applying worm-seed to the tail.

    <strong>A LECTURE UPON THE SHADOW.</strong>

    STAND still, and I will read to thee

    A lecture, Love, in Loves philosophy.

    These three hours that we have spent,

    Walking here, two shadows went

    Along with us, which we ourselves produced.

    But, now the sun is just above our head,

    We do those shadows tread,

    And to brave clearness all things are reduced.

    So whilst our infant loves did grow,

    Disguises did, and shadows, flow

    From us and our cares ; but now tis not so.

    That love hath not attaind the highest degree,

    Which is still dilige others see.

    Except our loves at this noon stay,

    We shall new shadows make the other way.

    As the first were made to blind

    Others, these whie behind

    Will work upon ourselves, and blind our eyes.

    If our loves faint, aerwardly dee,

    To me thou, falsely, thine

    And I to thee miions shall disguise.

    The m shadows wear away,

    But these grow longer all the day ;

    But O ! loves day is short, if love decay.

    Love is a growing, or full stant light,

    And his short minute, after noon, is night.

    <strong>A DIALOGUE BETWEEN SIR HENRY WOTTON AND</strong>

    <strong>MR. DONNE.</strong>

    [W.]

    IF her disdai ge in you  move,

    You do not love,

    For when that hope gives fuel to the fire,

    You sell desire.

    Love is not love, but given free ;

    And so is mine ; so should yours be.

    [D.]

    Her heart, that weeps to hear of others moan,

    To mine is stone.

    Her eyes, that weep a strangers eyes to see,

    Joy to wound me.

    Yet I so well affect each part,

    As—caused by them—I love my smart.

    [W.]

    Say her disdainings justly must be graced

    With name of chaste ;

    And that she frow longing should exceed,

    And raging breed ;

    So her disdains eer offend,

    Unless self-love take private end.

    [D.]

    Tis love breeds love in me, and cold disdain

    Kills that again,

    As water causeth fire to fret and fume,

    Till all e.

    Who  of love more rich gift make,

    That to Loves self for loves own sake?

    Ill never dig in quarry of a

    To have no part,

    Nor roast in fiery eyes, which always are

    icular.

    Who this way would a lover prove,

    May show his patienot his love.

    A frown may be sometimes for physic good,

    But not for food ;

    And for that raging humour there is sure

    A gentler cure.

    Why bar you love of private end,

    Whiever should to publid?

    <strong>THE TOKEN.</strong>

    SEND me some tokens, that my hope may live

    Or that my easeless thoughts may sleep a ;

    Send me some hoo make sweet my hive,

    That in my passions I may hope the best.

    I beg nor ribbht with thine own hands,

    To knit our loves in the fantastic strain

    Of ouchd youth ; n to show the stands

    Of our affe, that, as thats round and plain,

    So should our loves meet in simplicity ;

    No, nor the corals, which thy wrist enfold,

    Laced up together in gruity,

    To show our thoughts should rest in the same hold ;

    No, nor thy picture, though most gracious,

    And most desired, cause tis like the best

    Nor witty lines, which are most copious,

    Within the writings which thou hast addressd.

    Send me nor this nor that, to increase my score,

    But swear thou thinkst I love thee, and no more.

    <strong>SELF-LOVE.</strong>

    HE that ot choose but love,

    And strives against it still,

    Never shall my fancy move,

    For he loves against his will ;

    Nor he which is all his own,

    And ot pleasure choose ;

    When I am caught he  be gone,

    And when he list refuse ;

    Nor he that loves  fair,

    For such by all are sought ;

    Nor he that  for foul ones care,

    For his judgement then is nought ;

    Nor he that hath wit, for he

    Will make me his jest or slave ;

    Nor a fool when others —

    He either —

    Nor he that still his mistress prays,

    For she is thralld therefore ;

    Nor he that pays, not, for he says

    Within, shes worth no more.

    Is there then no kind of men

    Whom I may freely prove?

    I will vent that humour then

    In mine own self-love.天涯在线书库《www.tianyabook.com》