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As oft 'twixt May April is to see,
When winds breathe sweet, unruly though they
His rudeness so with his authoriz'd youth
Did livery falseness in a pride of truth.
Well could he ride, and often men would say,
That horse his mettle from his rider takes:
Proud of subjection, noble by the sway,
What rounds, what bounds, what course, what stop

he makes?

[be. 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;
Thought, characters, and words, merely but art,
Knew vows were ever brokers to defiling;
And bastards of his foul adulterate heart.
Till thus he 'gan besiege me: "Gentle maid,
And long upon these terms I held my city,
Have of my suffering youth some feeling pity,
And be not of my holy vows afraid:

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,
Accomplish'd in himself, not in his case:
All aids themselves made fairer by their place;
Came for additions, yet their purpos'd trim
Piec'd not his grace, but were all grac'd by him.

So on the tip of his subduing tongue
All kind of arguments and question deep,
All replication prompt, and reason strong,
For his advantage still did wake and sleep:
To make the weeper laugh, the laugher weep,

He had the dialect and different skill,
Catching all passions in his craft of will;
That he did in the general bosom reign

That's to you sworn, to none was ever said;
For feast of love I have been call'd unto,
Till now did ne'er invite, nor never vow.
All my offences that abroad you see,
Are errors of blood, none of the mind;
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, By how much of me their reproach contains. Among the many that mine eyes have seen, Not one whose flame my heart so much aswarm'd, or any of my leisures ever charm'd: Or my affection put to the smallest teen, Harin have I done to them, but ne'er was harm'd; Kept hearts in liveries, but mine own was free. Of And reign'd, commanding in his monarchy. young, of old; and sexes both enchanted, To dwell with him in thoughts, or to remain Look here, what tributes wounded fancies sent In personal duty, following where he haunted: Of paled pearls, and rubies red as blood; [me, Consents bewitch'd, ere he desire, have granted; Figuring that they their passions likewise lent And dialogu'd from him what he would say, Of grief and blushes, aptly understood [me Ask'd their own wills, and made their wills obey. Effects of terror and dear modesty, In bloodless white and the encrimson'd mood: Many there were that did his picture get, Encamp'd in hearts, but fighting outwardly. To serve their eyes, and in it put their mind; And lo! behold these talents of their hair, Like fools that in the imagination set With twisted metal amorously impleach'd, The goodly objects which abroad they find I have receiv'd from many a several fair, Of lands and inansions, their's in thought as-(Their kind acceptance weepingly beseech'd.) sign'd: [them, With the annexions of fair gems enrich'd, And labouring in more pleasures to bestow And deep-brain'd sonnets, that did amplify Than the true gouty landlord which doth owe Each stones's dear nature, worth, and quality. The diamond; why 'twas beautiful and hard, Whereto his invis'd properties did tend; The deep-green emerald, in whose fresh regard Weak sights their sickly radiance do amend; The heaven-hued sapphire and the opal blend With objects manifold; each several stone. With wit well blazon'd, smil'd or made some

them.

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
Of proofs new-bleeding, which remain'd the foil
Of this false jewel, and his amorous spoil.
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 a while 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,
Though reason weep, and ery--it is thy last,

moan.

Lo all these trophies of affections hot,
Of pensiv'd and subdued desires the tender.
Nature hath charg'd me that I hoard them not,
But yield them up where I myself must render,
That is, to you, my origin and ender:
For these, of force, must your oblations be,
Since I their altar, you enpatron me.

O then advance of yours that phraseless hand,
Whose white weighs down the airy scale of
praise;

Take all these similes to your own command,
What me your minister, for you obeys, (raise;
Hallow'd with sighs that burning lungs did
Works under you; and to your audit comes
Their distract parcels in combined sums.
Lo! this device was sent me from a nun,
Or sister sanctified, of holiest note;
Which late her noble suit in court did shun,
Whose rarest havings made the blossoms dote;
For she was sought by spirits of richest coat,
But kept cold distance, and did thence remove,
To spend her living in eternal love.

But O, my sweet, what labour is't to leave
The thing we have not, mastering what not
strives?

Paling the place which did no form receive;-
Playing patient sports in unconstrained gyves:
She that her fame so to herself contrives,
The scars of battle scapeth by the flight,
And makes her absence valiant, not her might.
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.
How mighty then you are, O hear me tell!
The broken bosoms that to me belong,
Have emptied all their fountains in my well,
And mine I pour your ocean all among:
I strong o'er them, and you o'er me being strong,
Must for your victory us all congest,
As compound love to physic your cold breast.
My parts had power to charm a sacred sun,
Who, disciplin'd and 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,
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;

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,
Lending soft audience to my sweet design,
And credent soul to that strong-bonded oath
That shall prefer and undertake my troth."
This said, his watery eyes he did dismount,
Whose sights till then were level'd on my face
Each cheek a river running from a fount
With brinish current downward flow'd apace:

roses

O, how the channel to the stream gave grace!
Who, glaz'd with crystal, gave the glowing
[closes.
That flame through water which their hue in-
O father, what a hell of witchcraft lies
In the small orb of one particular tear?
But with the inundation of the eyes
What rocky heart to water will not wear?

What breast so cold that is not warmed here?
O cleft effect! cold modesty, hot wrath,
Both fire from hence and chill extincture hath!
For lo! his passion, but an art of craft,
Even there resolv'd my reason into tears;
There my white stole of chastity I daff'd,
Shook off my sober guards and civil fears;
Appear to him, as he to me appears,
[bore,
All melting; though our drops this difference
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 swooning 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 swoon at tragic shews.
That not a heart which in his level came,
Could 'scape the hail of his all-hurting aim,
Shewing fair nature is both kind and tame;
And veil'd in them, did win whom he would

maim:

Against the thing he sought he would exclaim:
When he most burn'd in heart-wish'd luxury,
Ile preach'd pure maid, and prais'd cold chastity.
Thus merely with the garment of a Grace
The naked and concealed fiend he cover'd;
That the unexperienc'd gave the tempter place,
Which, like a cherubim, above them hover'd.
Who, young and simple, would not be so lover'd?
Ah me! I fell; and yet do question make,
What I should do again for such a sake.
O, that infected moisture of his eye,
O, that false fire which in his cheek so glow'd,
O, that forc'd thunder from his heart did fly,
O, that sad breath his spongy lungs bestow'd,
O, all that borrow'd motion, seeming ow'd,
Would yet again betray the fore-betray'd,
And new pervert a reconciled maid.

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I.

SWEET Cytherea, sitting by a brook,

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.

She told him stories to delight his ear;

She shew'd him favours to allure his eye; To win his heart, she touch'd him here and Touches so soft still conquer chastity. [there: But whether unripe years did want conceit, Or he refus'd to take her figur'd proffer, The tender nibbler would not touch the bait, But smile and jest at every gentle offer: Then fell she on her back, fair queen, and toward;

He rose and ran away; ah, fool too froward!

II.

Scarce had the sun dried up the dewy morn, And scarce the herd gone to the hedge for shade,

When Cytherea, all in love forlorn,

A longing tarriance for Adonis made, Under an osier growing by a brook,

A brook, where Adon us'd to cool his spleen: Hot was the day; she hotter that did look

For his approach, that often there had been. Anon he comes, and throws his mantle by, And stood stark naked on the brook's green brim;

The sun look'd on the world with glorious eye,
Yet not so wistly, as this queen on him:
He spying her, bounc'd in, whereas he stood;
O Jove, quoth she, why was not I a flood?

III.

Fair was the morn, when the fair queen of love,

Paler for sorrow than her milk-white dove,

She told the youngling how god Mars did try her,

And as he fell to her, so fell she to him. Even thus, quoth she, the warlike god embrac'd me,

And then she clipp'd Adonis in her arms; Even thus, quoth she, the warlike god unlac'd me;

As if the boy should use like loving charms:
Even thus, quoth she, he seized on my lips,
And with her lips on his did act the seizure;
And as she fetched breath, away he skips,
And would not take her meaning nor her
pleasure.

Ah! that I had my lady at this bay,
To kiss and clip me till I run away!

V.

Crabbed age and youth
Cannot live together;
Youth is full of pleasance,

Age is full of care:
Youth like summer morn,

Age like winter weather;
Youth like summer brave,
Age like winter bare.
Youth is full of sport,
Age's breath is short,

Youth is nimble, age is lame;
Youth is hot and bold,
Age is weak and cold;

Youth is wild, and age is tame.
Age, I do abhor thee,
Youth, I do adore thee;

O, my love, my love is young;
Age, I do defy thee;

O, sweet shepherd, hie thee,

For methinkst thou stay'st too long.

faded,

VI.

For Adon's sake, a youngster proud and wild; | Sweet rose, fair flower, untimely pluck'd, soon Her stand she takes upon a steep-up hill: Anon Adonis comes with horn and hounds; She, silly queen, with more than love's good will, Forbade the boy he should not pass those grounds;

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Pluck'd in the bud, and faded in the spring! Bright orient pearl, alack! too timely shaded! Fair creature, kill'd too soon by death's sharp

sting!

Like a green plum that hangs upon a tree,
And falls, through wind, before the fall should
I weep for thee, and yet no cause I have; [be.
For why? thou left'st me nothing in thy will.
And yet thou left'st me more than I did crave;
For why? I craved nothing of thee still:
O yes, dear friend, I pardon crave of thee:
Thy discontent thou didst bequeath to me.
VII.

Fair is my love, but not so fair as fickle,
Mild as a dove, but neither true nor trusty;

Brighter than glass, and yet, as glass is, brittle,
Softer than wax, and yet, as iron, rusty:
A lily pale, with damask die to grace her,
None fairer, nor none falser to deface her.
Her lips to mine how often hath she join'd,
Between each kiss her oaths of true love
swearing!

How many tales to please me hath she coin'd, Dreading my love, the loss thereof still fearing!

Yet in the midst of all her pure protestings, Her faith, her oaths, her tears, and all were jestings.

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She bade good night, that kept my rest away; And daff'd me to a cabin hang'd with care,

To descant on the doubts of my decay. Farewell, quoth she, and come again to-morrow; She burn'd with love, as straw with fire flameth; Fare well I could not, for I supp'd with sorrow. She burn'd out love, as soon as straw out-burn-Yet at my parting sweetly did she smile,

eth; [ing; She fram'd the love, and yet she foil'd the framShe bade love last, and yet she fell a turning. Was this a lover, or a lecher whether? Bad in the best, though excellent in neither. VIII.

Did not the heavenly rhetoric of thine eye,
'Gainst whom the world cannot hold argu-
ment,

Persuade my heart to this false perjury?
Vows for thee broke deserve not punishment.
A woman, forswore; but I will prove,

Thou being a goddess, I foreswore not thee: My vow was earthly, thou a heavenly love; Thy grace being gain'd, cures all disgrace in

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Where all those pleasures live, that art can comprehend.

If knowledge be the mark, to know thee shall suffice;

Well learned is that tongue that well can thee commend;

All ignorant that soul that sees thee without wonder;

Which is to me some praise, that I thy parts admire:

Thine eye Jove's lightning seems, thy voice his dreadful thunder,

Which (not to anger bent) is music and sweet fire, Celestial as thou art, O do not love that wrong, To sing the heavens' praise with such an earthly tongue.

X.

Beauty is but a vain and doubtful good,

A shining gloss, that fadeth suddenly; A flower that dies, when first it gins to bud; A brittle glass, that's broken presently; A doubtful good, a gloss, a glass, a flower, Lost, faded, broken, dead within an hour.

In scorn or friendship, nill I construe whether "Tmay be, she joy'd to jest at my exile, 'Tmay be, again to make me wander thither; Wander, a word for shadows like thyself, As take the pain, but cannot pluck the pelf. XII.

Lord, how mine eyes throw gazes to the east! My heart doth charge the watch; the morn ing rise

Doth cite each moving sense from idle rest.

Not daring trust the office of mine eyes, While Philomela sits and sings, I sit and mark, And wish her lays were tuned like the lark; For she doth welcome day-light with her ditty, And drives away dark dismal-dreaming night: The night so pack'd, I post unto my pretty; Heart hath his hope, and eyes their wished

sight; [row; Sorrow chang'd to solace, solace mix'd with sorFor why? she sighed, and bade me come to

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XIII.

It was a lording's daughter, the fairest one of three, [be, That liked of her master as well as well might Till looking on an Englishman, the fairest eye Her fancy fell a turning. [could see, Long was the combat doubtful, that love with love did fight, [lant knight: To leave the master loveless, or kill the galTo put in practice either, alas it was a spite Unto the silly damsel.

But one must be refused, more mickle was the pain, [to gain, That nothing could be used, to turn them both For of the two the trusty knight was wounded with disdain:

Alas, she could not help it! [the day, Thus art with arms contending was victor of Which by a gift of learning did hear the maid [lady gay;

away; Then lullaby, the learned man hath got the For now my song is ended.

XIV.

On a day (alack the day!)

Love, whose month was ever May,
Spy'd a blossom passing fair,
Playing in the wanton air:
Through the velvet leaves the wind,
All unseen, 'gan passage find;

That the lover, sick to death,
Wish'd himself the heaven's breath.
Air, quoth he, thy cheeks may blow.
Air, would I might triumph so!
But, alas! my hand hath sworn
Ne'er to pluck thee from thy thorn:
Vow, alack, for youth unmeet;
Youth, so apt to pluck a sweet.
Do not call it sin in me,
That I am forsworn for thee;

Thou for whom Jove would swear
Juno but an Ethiope were;
And deny himself for Jove,
Turning mortal for thy love.

XV.

My flocks feed not, My ewes breed not,

My rams speed not, All is amiss: Love's denying, Faith's defying, Heart's denying,

Causer of this.

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Let reason rule things worthy blame,
As well as fancy, partial like:
Take counsel of some wiser head,
Neither too young, nor yet unwed.
And when thou com'st thy tale to tell,
Smooth not thy tongue with filed talk.
Lest she some subtle practice swell;
(A cripple soon can find a halt:)
But plainly say thou lov'st her well,
And set thy person forth to sell.
And to her will frame all thy ways;
Spare not to spend,--and chiefly there
Where thy desert may merit praise,
By ringing always in her ear:

The strongest castle, tower, and town,
The golden bullet beats it down.
Serve always with assured trust,
And in thy suit be humble, true;
Unless thy lady prove unjust,
Seek never thou to choose anew:

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When time shall serve, be thou not slack To proffer, though she put thee back. What though her frowning brows be bent, Her cloudy looks will clear ere night; And then too late she will repent That she dissembled her delight;

And twice desire, ere it be day,

That with such scorn she put away. What though she strive to try her strength, And ban and brawl, and say thee nay, Her feeble force will yield at length, When craft hath taught her thus to say,

Had women been so strong as men,
In faith you had not had it then.
The wiles and guiles that women work,
Dissembled with an outward shew,
The tricks and toys that in them lurk,
The cock that treads them shall not know.
Have you not heard it said full oft,

A woman's nay doth stand for nought?
Think, women love to match with men,
And not to live so like a saint:
Here is no heaven; they holy then
Begin, when age doth them attaint.
Were kisses all the joys in bed,
One woman would another wed.
But soft enough,-too much I fear;
For if my lady hear my song,
She will not stick to ring mine ear,
To teach my tongue to be so long:
Yet will she blush, here be it said,
To hear her secrets so bewray'd.
XVII.

As it fell upon a day,

In the merry month of May,
Sitting in a pleasant shade

Which a grove of myrtles made,

Beasts did leap, and birds did sing.

Trees did grow, and plants did spring:
Every thing did banish moan,

Save the nightingale alone:

She, poor bird, as all forlorn,

Lean'd her breast up-till a thorn,

And there sung the dolefull'st ditty,
That to hear it was great pity:
Fie, fie, fie, now would she cry,
Teru, Teru, by and by:
That to hear her so complain,
Scarce I could from tears refrain;
For her griefs so lively shewn,
Made me think upon mine own.
Ah! (thought I) thou mourn'st in vain;
None take pity on thy pain:

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