But as, when the Pellaan conqueror dy'd, HER MY HEART DISCOVERED. ER body is so gently bright, Clear and transparent to the sight, (Clear as fair crystal to the view, Yet soft as that, ere stone it grew) That through her flesh, methinks, is seen The brighter soul 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 see 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 sighs 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! Whose-ever wretched heart it be, 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 defac'd, it lies, 1 That it could ne'er be known by th' eyes; And knew by th' voice that 'twas mine own. A shipwreck'd body tow'rds her draw, But, when the corpse on shore were cast, ANSWER TO THE PLATONICS. So angels love; so let them love for me; When I'm all soul, such shall my love too be: Who nothing here but like a spirit would do, In a short time, believe 't, will be one too. But, shall our love do what in beasts we see? Ev'n beasts eat too, but not so well as we: And you as justly might in thirst refuse The use of wine, because beasts water use: They taste those pleasures as they do their food; Undress'd they take 't, devour it raw and crude: But to us men, Love cooks it at his fire, And adds the poignant sauce of sharp desire. Beasts do the same: 'tis true; but ancient Fame Says, gods themselves turn'd beasts to do the same. The Thunderer, who, without the female bed, As lambent flames to men i' th' frigid zone. Such is Love's noblest and divinest heat, That warms like his, and does, like his, beget. Pygmalion, loving what none can enjoy, THE VAIN LOVE. LOVING ONE FIRST BECAUSE SHE COULD LOVE NO BODY, AFTERWARDS LOVING HER WITH DESIRE. W HAT new-found witchcraft was in thee, His conqueror through the streets does ride, Desires which, whilst so high they soar, THE SOUL. Ir mine eyes do e'er declare They've seen a second thing that's fair; If my taste do ever meet, After thy kiss, with aught that 's sweet; Aught to be smooth, or soft, but you; Aught perfume, but thy breath, to call; And so through thee more powerful pass, That nought material's not compris'd; If I ever anger know, Till some wrong be done to you ; If gods or kings my envy move, Without their crowns crown'd by thy love; Without thy image stamp'd on it; To find that you 're concern'd therein; That tastes of any thing but thee; To the least glimmering inclination; By any force, or any art, Be brought to move one step from thee, If my busy Imagination, Do not thee in all things fashion; If my Understanding do If she would not follow thee, Though Fate and thou should'st disagree; And if (for Ia curse will give, THE PASSIONS. FROM Hate, Fear, Hope, Anger, and Envy, free, In vain this state a freedom eall; Sometimes upon their idols fell, Call in the States of Holland to their aid. WISDOM. 'Tis mighty wise that you would now be thought, Things which, I take it, friend, you'd ne'er recite, Should she I love but say t' you, "Come at night." The wisest king refus'd all pleasures quite, THE DESPAIR. BENEATH this gloomy shade, By Nature only for my sorrows made, So Lust, of old, the Deluge punished. "Ah, wretched youth!" said I ; "Ah, wretched youth!" twice did I sadly cry; Ah, wretched youth!" the fields and floods reply. When thoughts of love I entertain, I meet no words but "Never," and "In vain." "Never," alas! that dreadful name Which fuels the eternal flame: "Never" my time to come must waste; "In vain" torments the present and the past. "In vain, in vain," said I ; "In vain, in vain !" twice did I sadly cry; No more shall fields and floods do so; No comfort to my wounded sight, Then down I laid my head, Down on cold earth; and for a while was dead, And my freed soul to a strange somewhere fled. "Ah, sottish soul!" said I, When back to its cage again I saw it fly; Where it condemn'd and destin❜d is to burn! Once dead, how can it be, Death should a thing so pleasant seem to thee, That thou should'st come to live it o'er again in me?" THE WISH. WELL then; I now do plainly see Does of all meats the soonest cloy; Ah, yet, ere I descend to th' grave, And, since love ne'er will from me flee, A mistress moderately fair, And good as guardian-angels are, Only belov'd, and loving me! Oh, fountains! when in you shall I Myself, eas'd of unpeaceful thoughts, espy? Oh fields! oh woods! when, when shall I be made The happy tenant of your shade? Here's the spring-head of Pleasure's flood; Where all the riches lie, that she Has coin'd and stamp'd for good. Pride and ambition here Only in far-fetch'd metaphors appear; Here nought but winds can hurtful murmurs scatter, And nought but Echo flatter. The gods, when they descended, hither From Heaven did always chuse their way; And therefore we may boldly say, That 'tis the way too thither. How happy here should I, And one dear she, live, and embracing die! I should have then this only fear- MY DIET. Now, by my Love, the greatest oath that is, None loves you half so well as I: I do not ask your love for this; I shall not by 't too lusty prove ; If 't can but keep together life and love. I do not feasts and banquets look to have; A little bread and water 's all I crave. On a sigh of pity I a year can live; One tear will keep me twenty, at least; An hundred years on one kind word I'll feast: If you an inclination have for me; And all beyond is vast eternity! And still thy shape does me pursue, As if, not you me, but I had murder'd you. From books I strive some remedy to take, But thy name all the letters make; Attempt in vain from thee to fly? My pains resemble Hell in this; But to torment men, not to give them bliss. ALL-OVER LOVE. 'Tis well, 'tis well with them, say I, Whose short-liv'd passions with themselves can die; For none can be unhappy, who, "Midst all his ills, a time does know (Though ne'er so long) when he shall not be so. Whatever parts of me remain. Those parts will still the love of thee retain; 'Twas all in all, and all in every part. My affection no more perish can Than the first matter that compounds a man. Mix'd with another's substance be, 'Twill leaven that whole lump with love of thee. Let Nature, if she please, disperse My atoms over all the universe; At the last they easily shall Themselves know, and together call; For thy love, like a mark, is stamp'd on all. LOVE AND LIFE. Now, sure, within this twelvemonth past, Not that love's hours or minutes are Shorter than those our being 's measur'd by: But they're more close compacted far, Yet love, alas! and life in me, At once, with double course in the same sphere, It swiftly flies, and then is love. Love's my diurnal course, divided right, 'Twixt hope and fear-my day and night, THE BARGAIN. TAKE heed, take heed, thou lovely maid, The price of beauty fall'n so low! What dangers ought'st thou not to dread, When Love, that's blind, is by blind Fortune led? The foolish Indian, that sells His precious gold for beads and bells, Does a more wise and gainful traffic hold, Than thou, who sell'st thyself for gold. What gains in such a bargain are ? He'll in thy mines dig better treasures far. Can gold, alas! with thee compare? The Sun, that makes it, 's not so fair; The Sun, which can nor make nor ever see A thing so beautiful as thee, In all the journeys he does pass, Though the sea serv'd him for a looking-glass. Bold was the wretch that cheapen'd thee; Since Magus, none so bold as he : Thou 'rt so divine a thing, that thee to buy Is to be counted simony; Too dear he 'll find his sordid price If it be lawful thee to buy, But what on Earth's most like to thee; So much thyself does in me live, THE LONG life. LOVE from Time's wings hath stol'n the feathers, Sure He has, and put them to his own; And very minutes hours are grown. Th' old Patriarchs' age, and not their happi- | The needle trembles so, and turns about, GENTLY, ah, gently, madam, touch The wound which you yourself have made; That pain must needs be very much, Which makes me of your hand afraid. Cordials of pity give me now, For I too weak for purgings grow. Do but awhile with patience stay (For counsel yet will do no good) Till time, and rest, and Heaven, allay The violent burnings of my blood; But ne'er to me can useful prove; And I'm not sick, but dead in love, Ev'n thy dissuasions me persuade, For straight the traitor took their part: Of all that little which was left. The act, I must confess, was wise, As a dishonest act could be: Till it the northern point find out; But constant then and fix'd does prove, Fix'd, that his dearest pole as soon may move. Then may my vessel torn and shipwreck'd be, If it put forth again to sea! It never more abroad shall roam, Though 't could next voyage bring the Indies home. But I must sweat in love, and labour yet, They're slothful fools who leave a trade, To live perpetually upon. The person, Love does to us fit, THE SAME. FOR Heaven's sake, what d' you mean to do? 'Tis dismal, one so long to love And waste our army thus in vain, Before a city which will ne'er be ta'en. At several hopes wisely to fly, Ought not to be esteem'd inconstancy; 'Tis more inconstant always to pursue A thing that always flies from you; For that at last may meet a bound, But no end can to this be found, 'Tis nought but a perpetual fruitless round. When it does hardness meet, and pride, My love does then rebound t' another side; But, if it aught that's soft and yielding hit, It lodges there, and stays in it. Whatever 'tis shall first love me, That it my Heaven may truly be, I shall be sure to give 't eternity. |