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 Thin airy things extend themselves in space, Yet Love, alas! and Life, in me, A double, different motion? O yes, there may; for so the self-same sun Swiftly his daily journey he goes, But treads his annual with a statelier pace; At once, with double course in the same sphere, 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. divided right "Twixt hope and fear-my day and night. THE BARGAIN. TAKE heed, take heed, thou lovely maid, 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 traffick 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 Has forfeited that and the Benefice. If it be lawful thee to buy, There's none can pay that rate but I; But what on earth's most like to thee; So much thyself does in me live, "T is but to change that piece of gold for this, Whose stamp and value equal is ; And, that full weight too may be had, My soul and body, two grains more, I'll add. THE LONG LIFE. LOVE from Time's wings hath stol'n the feathers, sure He has, and put them to his own; For hours of late as long as days endure, And very minutes hours are grown. The various motions of the turning year How long a space since first I lov'd it is! Th' old Patriarchs' age, and not their happiness too, Why does hard Fate to us restore ? Why does Love's fire thus to mankind renew What the Flood wash'd away before? Sure those are happy people that complain Contract mine, Heaven! and bring them back again If when your gift, long life, I disapprove, Punish me justly, Heaven; make her to love, COUNSEL. 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 a while with patience stay (For counsel yet will do no good) Till time, and rest, and Heaven, allay The violent burnings of my blood; Perhaps the physick 's good you give, But ne'er to me can useful prove; |