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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;
But for Heaven's sake believe me, or I die.
No servant e'er but did deserve
His master should believe that he does serve;
And I'll ask no more wages, though I starve.

'T is no luxurious diet this, and sure
I shall not by 't too lusty prove;
Yet shall it willingly endure,

If 't can but keep together life and love.
Being your prisoner and your slave,
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;
Fifty, a gentle look will give;
An hundred years on one kind word I'll feast:
A thousand more will added be,
If you an inclination have for me;
And all beyond is vast eternity

THE THIEF.

THOU robb'st my days of business and delights,
Of sleep thou robb'st my nights;
Ah, lovely thief! what wilt thou do?
What? rob me of heaven too
Thou ev'n my prayers dost steal from me;
And I, with wild idolatry,

Begin to God, and end them all to thee.

Is it a sin to love, that it should thus,
Like an ill conscience, torture us f
Whate'er I do, where’er I go,
(None guiltless e'er was haunted sol)
Still, still, methinks, thy face I view,
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 ;
Whate’er’t is writ, I find That there,
Like points and commas every-where:
Me blest for this let no man hold;
For I, as Midas did of old,

Perish by turning every thing to gold.

What do I seek, alas! or why do I
Attempt in vain from thee to fly?

For making thee my deity,
I gave thee then ubiquity.
My pains resemble hell in this;
The divine presence there too is,
But to torment men, not to give them bliss.

ALL-OVER LOVE.

*T IS 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;

For 't was not only in my heart,

But, like a God, by powerful art "T was all in all, and all in every part.

My affection no more perish can
Than the first matter that compounds a man.

Hereafter, if one dust of me

Mix’d with another's substance be, 'T will 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, I 'ave lov’d at least some twenty years or more : Th’ account of Love runs much more fast Than that with which our life does score: So, though my life be short, yet I may prove The great Methusalem of Love.

Not that Love's hours or minutes are
Shorter than those our being's measur’d by ;
But they’re more close compacted far,
And so in lesser room do lie:
Thin airy things extend themselves in space,
Things solid take up little place.

. Yet Love, alas! and Life, in me, Are not two several things, but purely one; At once how can there in it be A double, different motion f 0 yes, there may; for so the self-same sun At once does slow and swiftly run : WQL. II, - E

Swiftly his daily journey he goes,
But treads his annual with a statelier pace;
And does three hundred rounds enclose
Within one yearly circle's space;
At once, with double course in the same sphere,
He runs the day, and walks the year.

When Soul does to myself refer,
"Tis then my life, and does but slowly move;
But when it does relate to her,
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, Nor be by glittering ills betray'd; Thyself for money! oh, let no man know 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, Poes a more wise and gainful traffick hold

Than thou, who sell'st thyself for gold.

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