Imágenes de páginas

A new-born wood of various lines there grows; But, since I knew thy falsehood and thy pride, Hare buds an A, and there a B,

And all thy thousand faules beside, Here sprouts a V, and there a T,

A very Mour, methiuks, plac'd near to thee, And all the flourishing letters stand in rows.

White as his teeth would feem to be. Sill, Gilly paper! thou wilt think

So men (they say) by hell's delusions led,

Have ta'en a succubus to their bed; That all this might as well be writ with ink :

Believe it fair, and themselves happy call, Ok, no; there's sense in this, and mystery

'Till the cleft foot discovers all : Thoa yow may't change thy author's name, And to her hand lay noble claim ;

Then they start from 't, half ghosts then selves

with sear; For, as the reads, she makes, the words in thee.

And devil, as 'tis, it does arpear. Yet-if thine own unworthiness

So, fince against my will I found the foul, Will fill that thou are nine, not her's, confess Deform’d and crooked in thy foul, Consume thylelf with fire before her eyes, My reason ftrait did to my senses thew, And so her grace or pity nove :

That they might be mistaken ton : The gods, though beasts they do not love, Nay, when the world but knows how false you are, Yat like them when they're burnt in facrifice. There's not a man will think you fair;

Thy shape will monstrous in their lancies be,

They'll call their eyes as falle as the.

Be what thou wilt, hate will prefert thee so

As Puritans do the Pope, and Papists Luther do. FILE Fears ago (says Story) I lov'd row,

For which you call me most inconstant now;
Pardon me, Madam! you niiftake the man,
For I am not the same that I was then;

No fcin is now the same 'twas then in me;
And that my mind is chang'd, yourself may see.

NDEED I must consess,

When fouls mix 'tis an happiness;
The fame thoughts to retain fill, and intents,
Were more inconstant far; for accidents

But not compleat till bodies too combine,
Mult of all things molt strangely' inconstant prove,

And closely as our minds together join :

But half of heaven thc fouls in glory taste, li from one subje& they t' another move;

Till by love in heaven, at last,
My members then the father-mcnibers were
From whence these take their birth which now

Their bodies too are plac'd. are bere.

In thy inimortal part If then this budy love what th' other dil,

Man, as well as I, thou art; 'Twere incest; which hy Nature is forbid. But something 'tis that differs thee and me ; You might as well this day inconstant name,

And we must one even in that difference bc, Brcause the weather is not still the same

I thee, both as a man and woman, prize; That it was yeiterday—or blame the year,

For a perfect love implics Cance the spring flowers, and autumn fruit, does Love in all capacities. bear.

Can that for true love pass, The world's a scene of changes; and to be

When a fair woman courts her glaf: ? (na lant, in Nature were inconstancy ; Fr 'twere to break the laws herself has made :

Something unlike must in love's likeness be;

His wonder is, one, and varicty : Our fubtances themselves do fleet aud fade; for he, whose foul nought but a soul can move, The molt fix'd being fill does move and fly,

Docs a rew Narcissus prove, swift as the wings of time'tis it afur’d by.

And his own image love. l'imagine then that Love should never cease Love, which is but the ornament of these)

That fouls de beauty know, Were quite as senseless, as to wonder why

"Tis to the bodics help they owe; Ezuty and colour stays not when we die.

If, when they know ’, they strait abule that trust,
And shut the body from 't, 'uis as unjust
As if I brought my dearest friend to fee

My mistress, and at th' instant he

Should Itcal her quite from me.
T's very true, I thought you once as fair

As women in th' idea arc;
Whatever here seems beauteous, seem'd to be

Ect a faint metaphor of thee:
Put then, methoughis, there something shin'd OVE in her sunny eyes does basking play;


Which cast this lustre o'er thy skin ;
Nor could I chufe but count it the sun's light,

Love does on both her lips for ever stray,
Which piade this cloud appear to bright.

And sows and reaps a thousar.d kifies there,

In all her outward parts Love's always seen;

But oh! he never went within.

Within, Love's soes, his greatest foes, abide,

Malice, Inconstancy, and Pride : So, the earth's face trees, herbs, and flowers, do


With other beauties numberless ; But at the centre darkaess is, and hell; There wicked spirits, and there the damned,


With me, alas! quite contrary it fares;
Darkness and death lie in my weeping eyes,
Despair and paleness in my face appears,
And grief, and fear, Love's gréatekt cnemies;
But, like the Perlian tyrant, Love within

Keeps his proud court, and ne'er is seen.
Oh! take my heart, and by that means you'll


Within too stor'd enough of love : Give me but your's, I'll by that change so thrive,

That love in all my parts shall live. So powerful is this change, it render can My outside Woman, and your inüide Man.

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"Tis not the linen shews fo fair;
Her skin fines through, and makes it bright :
So clouds themselves like suns appear,
When the sun pierces them with light :
So, lilies in a glass inclose,
The glass will seem as white as those.
Thou now one heap of beauty art;
Nought outwards, or within, is foul :
Condensed beams make every part;
Thy body's cloathed like thy soul;
Thy soul, which does itself display,
Like a star, piac'd i' th' milky-way.
Such robes the saints c'eparted wear,
Woven all with light divine;
Such their exalted bodies are,
And with such full glory shine:
But they regard not mortals' pain;
Men pray, I fear, to both in vain.
Yet, seeing thee fo gently pure,
My hopes will needs continue ftill;
Thou would't not take this garment, sure,
When thou hadît an intent to kill!
of peace and yielding who would doubt,
When the white flag he sees hung out?




who once have cast the truth awis,

S Force ;

So the vain Gentiles, when they left t'adore One Deity, could not stop at thousands more : Their meal was senseless strait, and boundless,

grown; They worship'd many a beast and many a stone. Ah, sair apoitate! couldit thou think to flee From Truth and Goodness, yet keep unity? I reign'd alone; and my blest self could call The universal monarch of her all. Mine, mine, her fair East-Indies were above, Where those suns rise that cheer the world of

Love? Where beauties shine like gems of richest price ; Where coral grows, and every breath is {pice : Mine too her rich Weft-Indies were below, Where mines of gold and endless treasures grow. But, as when the Pellæan conqueror dy'd, Many small princes did his crown divide; So, fince my love his vanquish'd world forsook, Murder'd by poisons from her falsehood cook, An hundred petty kings claim each their part, And rend that glorious empire of her heart.


(ER body is so gently bright,


(Clear as fair crystal to the view, Yet fost as that, ere stone it grew) That through her fleth, methinks, is seen The brighter foul that dwells within : Our eyes the subtile covering pass, And see that lily through its glass. I through her breast her heart espy, As souls in hearts do souls descry: I see 't with gentle motions beat; I sec light in 't, but find no heat. Within, like angels in the sky, A thousand gilded thoughts do fly; Thoughts of bright and noblest kind, Fair and chaste as mother-mind. But oh! what other heart is there, Which fighs and crouds to her's so near? 'Tis all on flame, and does, like fire, To that, as to its heaven, aspire! The wounds are many in't and deep; Still does it bleed, and still does weep! Whole-ever wretched heart it bc, I cannot choose but grieve to see: What pity in my breast does reign! Methinks I feel too all its pain. So torn, and so dcfac'd, it lies, That it could ne'er be known by th' eyes; But oh! at last I heard it groan, And knew by th' voice that 'twas mine own. So poor Alcione, when she saw A shipwreck'd body tow'rds her draw,

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So in a zeal the fons of Israel

Sometimes upon their idols fell,
And they depos'd the powers of heli;
Baal and Astarte down they threw,

And Acharon and Moloch too:
All this imperfect piety did no good,
Whilft yet, alaz ! the calf of Bethel stood.
Fondly I boast, that I have drest my vine

With painful art, and that the wine
Is of a taste rich and divine;
Since Love, by mixing poison there,

Fas made it worse than vinegar.
Love ev'n the taste of Ne&ar changes so,
That Gods chuse rather water here below.
Fear, Anger, Hope, all passions else that be,

Drive this one tyrant out of me,
And practise all your tyranny !
The change of ills some good will do :

Th’opprelied wretched Indians so,
Being flaves by the great Spanish monarch made,
Call in the States of Holland to their aid.

If ever I an hope admit,
Without thy image stamp'd on it;
Or any fear, till i begin
To find that you're concern'd therein;
If a joy c'er come to me,

That tastes of any thing but thce;
If any sorrow touch my mind,
Whilst you are well, and not unkind;
If I a minutc's space debate,
Whether I shall curse and hate
The things bencath thy hatred fall,
'Though all the world, myself and all;
And for love-if ever I
Approach to it again so nigh,
As to allow a toleration
To the least glimmering inclination;
If thou alonc dost not controul
All those tyrants of my soul,
And to thy beauties ty’st them so,
That constant they as habits grow;
If any passion of my heart,
By any force, or any art,
Be brought to move one step from thee,
May'st thou no paffion have for ine!
If my busy'Imagination,
Do not thee in all things fashion;
So that all fair species be
Hieroglyphic marks of thce ;
If when she her sports does keep
(The lower soul being all asleep)
She play one dream, with all her art,
Where thou hast not the longest part ;
If aught get plive in my remembrance,
Without come badçe of thy resemblance
So that thy parts become to me
A kind of art of memory;--
If my Understanding do
Seck any knowiedyc but of you;
If the do near thy body prize
Her bodies of philofophies;
If she to the Will do hew
Aught desirable but you;
Or, if that would not rebel,
Should she another do&rine tell;
If my Will i'o not resign
All her liberty to thine;
If thc would not follow thee,
Though Fate and thou should'st disagree;
And if (for I a curse will give,
Such as shall force thee to believe)
My soul be not entirely thine;
May thy dear body ne'er be mine!


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'I$ mighty wise that you would now be

thought, With your grave rules from musty morals brought; Through which some streaks tou of divinity ran, Partly of Monk and partly Puritan; With tedious rcpetitions too yon’ave ta'en Often the name of vanity in vain. Things which, I take it, friend, you'd ne'er recite, Should the I love but say t' you, ,

« Come at “ night The wiselt king resus'd all pleasures quite, "Till Wisdom from above did him enlight; Bat, when that gist his ignorance did remove, Pleasures he chofe, and plac'd them all in love. And, if by' event the counsels may be seen, This Wisdom 'was that brought the southern

queen : She came not, like a good old wife, to know The wholesome nature of all plants that grow; Nor did so far from her own country roam, To curc fcald-heads and broken-fhins at home; She came for that, which more befits all wires, The art of giving, not of saving, lives.

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When thoughts of Love I entertain,

The Gods, when they descended, hither I meet no words but “ Never," and“ In vain." From heaven did always chuse their way; " Never," alas! that dreadful name

And therefore we may boldly say,
Which fucls the internal flame :

That 'tis the way too thither.
Never” my time to come mult waste;

How happy here should I, " In vain" torments the present and the past.

And one dear She, live, and embracing die! “ In vain, in vain," said I;

She, who is all the world, and can exclude " In vain, in vain!” twice did I sadly cry;

In dcfarts folitude. * In vain, in vain!” the fields and floods reply.

I should have then this only fearNo more hall fields or floods do so; Lest men, when they my pleasures fee, For I to shades more dark and filent go:

Should hither throng to live like me,
All this world's noise appears to me

And so make a city here.
A dull, ill-acted coniedy :

No comfort to my wounded fight,
In the fun's busy and impertinent light.
Then down I laid my head,

MY DIE T. Down on cold earth; and for a while was dead,

Tow, by my Love, the greatest oath that isa And iny frced foul to a strange somewhere fled.

I do not ask your love for this; « Ah, fottish Soul!" said I,

But for Heaven's fake believe me, or I die. When back to its cage again I saw it fly;

No servant e'er but did deferve “ Fool, to resume her broken chain,

His master should believe that he does serve; “ And row her galley here again!

And l'ilask no inore wages, though I starve. " Fool, to that body to return Where it condemn'd and defin'd is to burn! "Tis no luxurious diet this, and sure "Once dead, how can it be,

I shall not by 't too lusty prove; " Death fhould a thing to pleasant seem to thec, Yet fhall it willingly cndure, That thou should't come to live it o'er again

If 'tcan Lut keep together life and love. * in me?"

Being your prisoner and your flave,

I do not feasts and banquets look to have;
A little bread and water's all I crave.

On a figh of pity I a year can live;

One tear will keep mc twenty, at least;

Fifty, a gentle look will give; TELL then; I now do plainly see

An hundred years on one kind word l'll feast :

A thoufand more will added be, The very honey of all earthly joy

If you an inclination have for me;
Does of all meats the soonest cloy : And all beyond is vaft cternity!

And they, methinks, deserve my pity,
Who for it can endure the stings,
The crowd, and buz, and murmurings,
of this great hive, the city.

Ah, yet, ere I descend to th’ grave,
May I a small house and large garden have ! "HOU robb'it my days of business and de-
And a few friends, and many books, both true,

lights, Buth wife, and hotla delightful too!

Of Deep thou robb's my nights ; And, since love ne'er will from me flee, Ah, lovely thief! what wilt thou do? A mitress moderately fair,

What? rub me of heaven tuo? And good as quarcian-angels are,

Thou ev'n my prayers doft Alcal from me; Only bclov’d, and lov ng me!

And I, with wild idolatry,
Oh, fountains! when in you shall I

Begin to God, and end them all to thee.
Mięself, eas'd of unpeacciul thoughts, <spy? Is it a fin to love, that it should thus,
OL fields! oh woocs! when, when shall I be made Like an ill conscience, torture us?
The happy tenant of your face?

Whate'er I do, where'er I go,
Here's the spring-head of plcasure's flood; (None guiitlels e'er was haunted so!)
Where all the riches lie, that me

Still, ftil, niethinks, thy face I view,
Has coin'd and stamp'd for good.

And still thy thafe does me pursue,
Pride and ambition here,

As if, not you me, but I had murder'd you.
Only in far-fetch'd metaphors appear;

Fron books I strive fome remedy to take, Hue nought but winds' can hurtful murmurs But thy naine all the letters make; scatter,

Whate'er 'tis wrii, I find That there,
And nought but echo fatter.

Like points and commes very where :

agrce ;


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