Then down I laid my head, Down on cold earth; and for a while was dead, "Ah, sottish Soul!" said I, "And row her galley here again! "Where it condemn'd and destin'd is to burn! "Death should a thing so pleasant seem to thee, "That thou shouldst come to live it o'er again in me?" THE WISH. WELL then; I now do plainly see This busy world and I shall ne'er agree; The very honey of all earthly joy Does of all meats the soonest cloy; And they, methinks, deserve my pity, Who for it can endure the stings, Of this great hive, the city. 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, Here nought but winds can hurtful murmurs scatter, The Gods, when they descended, hither From heaven did always choose their way; And therefore we may boldly say, That 't is the way too thither. How happy here should I, And one dear She, live, and embracing die! I should have then this only fear- And so make a city here. NOW, by my Love, the greatest oath that is, I do not ask your love for this; His master should believe that he does serve; 'T is no luxurious diet this, and sure 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; THE THIEF. THOU robb'st my days of business and delights, Ah, lovely thief! what wilt thou do? Thou ev❜n my prayers dost steal from me; Begin to God, and end them all to thee. Is it a sin to love, that it should thus, From books I strive some remedy to take, But thy name all the letters make; What do I seek, alas! or why do I Attempt in vain from thee to fly? For making thee my deity, The divine presence there too is, ALL-OVER LOVE. "T IS well, 't is 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, But, like a God, by powerful art "T was all in all, and all in every part. My affection no more perish can Mix'd with another's substance be, 'T will leaven that whole lump with love of thee. |