Whenas thine eye hath chofe the dame, And fall'd the deer that thou fhould'ft ftrike; Let reason rule things worthy blame,
As well as fancy (partly all might)
Take counfel of fome wifer head, Neither too young, nor yet unwed.
And when thou com'ft thy tale to tell, Smooth not thy tongue with filed talk; Left the fome fubtle practice fmell: A cripple foon can find a halt.
But plainly fay, thou lov'ft her well, And fet her person forth to fale.
What tho' her frowning brows be bent, Her cloudy looks will calm e'er night;. And then too late fhe will repent, That thus diffembled her delight;
And twice defire, ere it be day, That which with fcorn fhe put away.
What tho' the ftrive to try her strength, And ban, and brawl, and say thee nay; Her feeble force will yield at length, When craft hath taught her thus to say: Had women been fo ftrong as men, In faith, you had not had it then.
And to her will frame all thy ways, Spare not to spend, and chiefly there, Where thy defert may merit praise, By ringing in thy lady's ear :
The strongest caftle, tower, and town, The golden bullet beats it down.
Serve always with affured truft, And in thy fuit be humble true; Unless thy lady prove unjust,
Please never thou to chufe a-new.
When time fhall ferve, be thou not flack To proffer, tho' fhe put it back.
The wiles and guiles that women work, Diffembled with an outward fhew
The tricks and toys that in them lurk, The cock that treads them fhall not know. Have you not heard it faid full oft,
A woman's nay doth ftand for nought?
Think women ftill to ftrive with men To fin, and never for to faint: There is no heaven (by holy then) When time with age fhall them attaint. Were kiffes all the joys in bed, One woman would another wed.
But foft enough, too much I fear, Left that my mistress hear my fong; She will not stick to round me on th' ear, To teach my tongue to be fo long.
Yet will the blufh, here be it faid, To hear her fecrets so bewraid.
Sin of felf-love poffeffeth all mine eye, And all my foul, and all my every part
And for this fin there is no remedy,. It is fo grounded inward in my heart. Methinks no face fo gracious is, as mine; No shape so true, no truth of fuch account; And for myself mine own worth do define, As I all other in all worths furmount.
But when my glass shews me myself indeed, Beated and chopp'd with tann'd antiquity; Mine own felf-love quite contrary I read, Self, fo felf-loving, were iniquity:
'Tis thee (my felf) that for myself I praise, Painting my age with beauty of thy days.
Not marble, nor the gilded monument Of princes, shall out-live this powerful rhyme; But you shall shine more bright in these contents, Than unfwept ftone befmear'd with fluttish time. When wafteful war fhall ftatues overturn,
And broils roet out the work of masonry ; : Nor Mars's fword,.. nor war's quick fire fhall burn The living record, of your memory....
'Gainft death, and all oblivious enmity,
Shall you pace forth; your praise shall still find room, Even in the eyes of all pofterity,
That wear this world out to the ending doom. So till the judgment, that yourself arife, You live in this, and dwell in lovers eyes. -
Familiarity breeds Contempt.
So am I as the rich, whofe bleffed key Can bring him to his fweet up-locked treasure,
The which he will not every hour survey, For blunting the fine point of feldom pleasure. Therefore are feafts fo folemn and fo rare; Since feldom coming, in the long year fet, Like ftone of worth they thinly placed are, Or captain jewels in the carconet:
So is the time that keeps you, as my cheft, Or as the wardrobe, which the robe doth hide, To make fonte special inftant fpecial bleft; By new unfolding his imprifon'd pride.
Bleffed are you, whofe worthinefs gives fcope, Being had to triumph, being lack'd to hope.
Is it thy will, thy image frould keep open My heavy eye-lids to the weary night?
Doft thou defire my flumbers fhould be broken, While fhadows, like to thee, do mock my fight? Is it thy fpirit that thou fend'ft from thee, So far from home, into my deeds to pry ; To find out fhames, and idle hours in me, The scope and tenure of thy jealoufy? O! no, thy love, tho' much is not so great; It is my love, that keeps mine eye awake; Mine own true love, that doth my reft defeat, To play the watchman ever for thy fake.
For thee watch I, whilft thou doft wake elsewhere, From me far off, with others all too near.
No longer mourn for me when I am dead When you fhall hear the furly fullen bell
Give warning to the world, that I am fled
From this vile world, with vileft worms to dwell. Nay, if you read this line remember not
The hand that writ it; for I love you fo,
That I in your fweet thoughts wou'd be forgot, If thinking on me then should make you woe. Q! if (I say) you look upon this verse, When I (perhaps) compounded am with clay; Do not fo much as my poor name rehearse, But let your love even with my life decay: Left the wife world fhould look into your moan, And mock you, with me after Lam gone.
O left the world should task you, to recite What merit liv'd in me, that you should love; After my death (dear love!) forget me quite, For you in me can nothing worthy prove: Unless you would devife fome virtuous lye, To do more for me now, than mine own defert,. And hang more praife upon deceased I, Than niggard truth would willingly impart. O! left your true love may seem false in this, That you for love speak well of me untrue; My name be buried where my body is, And live no more to shame nor me, nor you: For I am sham'd by that which I bring forth; And fo fhould you, to love things nothing worth.
But be contented, when that fell arreft, Without all bail, fhall carry me away;
My life hath in this line fome interest, Which for memorial ftill with thee shall stay. When thou revieweft this, thou doft review. The very part was confecrate to thee:
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