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Though constant and consistent now it be,
Yet, when kind beams appear,
And loses itself there.
No weathers can it move: Though heat dissolve the ice again, The crystal solid does remain.
ENJOYMENT. THEN like some wealthy island thou shalt lie,
And like the sea about it, I;
Like the kind Ocean I will be,
As their fresh banks soft rivers do :
It never dry or low can prove, Whilst thy unwasted fountain feeds my
love. Such heat and vigour shall our kisses bear,
As if like doves we engender'd there: No bound nor rule my pleasures shall endure, In love there's none too much an Epicure:
Nought shall my hands or lips control; I'll kiss thee through, I'll kiss thy very soul. Yet nothing but the night our sports shall know ;
Night, that's both blind and silent too!
Creeping so far beneath the sea,
The pleasant thefts of love do hide :
For there's no danger I should tell The joys which are to me unspeakable.
Thou, who man's soul dost overshade
madeCanst have no power to shut his eyes,
Or passage of his spirits to choke, Whose flame's so pure that it sends up no smoke. Yet how do tears but from some vapours rise ? Tears, that bewinter all my year?
The fate of Egypt I sustain,
And never feel the dew of rain,
But all my too much moisture owe
Thou, who dost men (as nights to colours do)
Come, thou just God! and equal me
Awhile to my disdainful She:
Till Love does the favour show:
you. Then never more shalt thou be' invoked by me; Watchful as spirits and Gods I'll prove:
Let her but grant, and then will I
Thee and thy kinsman Death defy;
Never will an agreement be;
ape, Who dost in every country change thy shape! Here black, there brown, here tawny, and there
white; Thou flatterer! which comply’st with every sight!
Thou Babel, which confound'st the eye With unintelligible variety!
Who hast no certain What, nor Where; But vary'st still, and dost thyself declare Inconstant, as thy she-professors are.
Beauty ! Love's scene and masquerade, So gay by well-placed lights and distance made! False coin, with which the’impostor cheats us still; The stamp and colour good, but metal ill !
Which light or base we find, when we Weigh by enjoyment, and examine thee !
For, though thy being be but show, 'Tis chiefly night which men to thee allow : And choose to’enjoy thee, when thou least art Thou.
Beauty! thou active, passive ill !
Beauty! whose flames but meteors are,
Who darest not thine own home descry, [star; Pretending to dwell richly in the eye, When thou, alas! dost in the fancy lie.
Beauty! whose conquests still are made O'er hearts by cowards kept, or else betray'd ; Weak victor who thyself destroy'd must be When Sickness storms, or Time besieges thee!
Thou' unwholesome thaw to frozen age ! Thou strong wine, which youth's fever dost enrage!
Thou tyrant, which leavest no man free! Thou subtle thief, from whom nought safe can be! Thou murderer, which hast kill'd, and devil, which
wouldst damn me !
From their horizon run,
And thought upon the sad half-year
With such swoln eyes my farewell took ;
[fly! Ah, those bless'd lands to which bright Thou dost In vain the men of learning comfort me,
And say I'm in a warm degree;
Say what they please, I say and swear 'Tis beyond eighty' at least, if you're not here. It is, it is; I tremble with the frost,
And know that I the day have lost;
And those wild things which men they call,
Of all that shines thou much the best!
And, as thou now descend'st to sea, More fair and fresh rise up from thence to me! Thou, who in many a propriety,
So truly art the sun to me,
Add one more likeness (which I'm sure you can) And let me and my sun beget a man!
whilst 'tis so;
The man who did this picture draw,
If you upon this shadow smile,
And absence so much alter me,