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FOR Heaven's sake, what d'you mean to do? Keep me, or let me go, one of the two ; Youth and warm hours let me not idly lose, The little time that Love does choose: If always here I must not stay, Let me be gone whilst yet 'tis day; Lest I, faint and benighted, lose my way.

'T is dismal, one so long to love
In vain; till to love more as vain must prove;
To hunt so long on nimble prey, till we
Too weary to take others be:
. Alas! "t is folly to remain,
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;
'T is 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,
'T is 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 *t is shall first love me, That it my heaven may truly be, I shall be sure to give 't eternity.


BY Heaven, I'll tell her boldly that 'tis she;
Why should she asham'd or angry be,
To be belov’d by me?
The Gods may give their altars o'er;
They'll smoke but seldom any more,
If none but happy men must them adore.

The lightning, which tall oaks oppose in vain,
To strike sometimes does not disdain
The humble furzes of the plain.
She being so high, and I so low,
Her power by this does greater show,
Who at such distance gives so sure a blow.

Compar'd with her, all things so worthless prove,
That nought on earth can tow'rds her move,
Till 't be exalted by her love.
Equal to her, alas ! there’s none;
She like a Deity is grown;
That must create, or else must be alone.

If there be man who thinks himself so high
As to pretend equality,
He deserves her less than I;
For he would cheat for his relief;
And one would give, with lesser grief,
T'an undeserving beggar than a thief.


NO ; thou’rt a fool, I'll swear, if e'er thou grant:
Much of my veneration thou must want,
When once thy kindness puts my ignorance out;
For a learn’d age is always least devout.
Keep still thy distance; for at once to me
Goddess and woman too thou canst not be:
Thou’rt queen of all that sees thee, and as such
Must neither tyrannize nor yield too much;
Such freedoms give as may admit command,
But keep the forts and magazines in hand.
Thou’rt yet a whole world to me, and dost fill
My large ambition; but 'tis dangerous still,
Lest I like the Pellaean prince should be,
And weep for other worlds, having conquer'd thee:
When Love has taken all thou hast away,
His strength by too much riches will decay.
Thou in my fancy dost much higher stand,
Than women can be plac’d by Nature's hand;

And I must needs, I’m sure, a loser be,
To change thee, as thou'rt there, for very thee.
Thy sweetness is so much within me plac'd,
That, shouldst thou nectargive,’t would spoil the taste.
Beauty at first moves wonder and delight;
"T is Nature’s juggling trick to cheat the sight.
We' admire it whilst unknown; but after, more
Admire ourselves for liking it before.
Love, like a greedy hawk, if we give way,
Does over-gorge himself with his own prey;
Of very hopes a surfeit he'll sustain,
Unless by fears he cast them up again:
His spirit and sweetness dangers keep alone;
If once he lose his sting, he grows a drone.


SOME others may with safety tell
The moderate flames which in them dwell;
And either find some medicine there,
Or cure themselves ev'n by despair;
My love's so great, that it might prove
Dangerous to tell her that I love.

So tender is my wound, it must not bear

Any salute, though of the kindest air.

I would not have her know the pain,
The torments, for her I sustain; *

Lest too much goodness make her throw Her love upon a fate too low. Forbid it, Heaven! my life should be Weigh’d with her least conveniency: No, let me perish rather with my grief, Than, to her disadvantage, find relief!

Yet, when I die, my last breath shall
Grow bold, and plainly tell her all:
Like covetous men, who ne'er descry
Their dear hid-treasures till they die.
Ah, fairest maid how will it cheer
My ghost, to get from thee a tear !
But take heed; for, if me thou pitiest then,
Twenty to one but I shall live again.

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I WONDER what those lovers mean, who say
They’ave given their hearts away :
Some good kind lover, tell me how;

For mine is but a torment to me now.

If so it be one place both hearts contain,
For what do they complain
What courtesy can Love do more,

Than to join hearts that parted were before ?

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