Those that bear a noble mind

Where they want of riches find,

Think what with them they would do, That without them dare to woo ;

And unless that mind I see,

What care I though great she be?

Great, or good, or kind, or fair,
I will ne'er the more despair :
If she love me, this believe,
I will die e'er she shall grieve;
If she slight me when I woo,
I can scorn and let her go;
For if she be not for me,
What care I for whom she be i

AMARYLLIS I did woo,
And I courted Phillis too;
Daphne for her love I chose;
Chloris for that damask rose
In her cheek I held as dear;
Yea, a thousand lik'd, well-near;
And, in love with all together,
Feared the enjoying either;
'Cause to be of one possest,

Barr'd the hope of all the rest.

LORDLY gallants, tell me this:

Though my safe content you weigh not, In your greatness what one bliss Have you gain'd, that I enjoy not? You have honours, you have wealth; I have peace, and I have health; All the day I merry make, And at night no care I take.

Bound to none my fortunes be;

This or that man's fall I fear not ;

Him I love that loveth me;

For the rest a pin I care not.

You are sad when others chafe,

And grow merry as they laugh!
I, that hate it, and am free,
Laugh and weep as pleaseth me.

WANTONS! 'tis not your sweet eyings, Forced passions, feigned dyings, Gesture's temptings, tear's beguilings, Dancings, singings, kissings, smilings, Nor those painted sweets, with which You unwary men bewitch,

(All united, nor asunder)

That can compass such a wonder,
Or to win you love prevails,

Where her moving virtues fails.

Beauties! 'tis not all those features
Placed in the fairest creatures,
Though their best they should discover,
That can tempt from her a lover.
"Tis not those soft snowy breasts,
Where Love, rock'd in pleasure, rests,
And by their continual motions
Draweth hearts to vain devotions;
Nor the nectar that we sip
From a honey-dropping lip;

Nor those eyes, whence beauty's lances
Wound the heart with wanton glances;
Nor those sought delights, that lie
In Love's hidden treasury,—

That can liking gain, where she

Will the best-beloved be.

For, should those, who think they may my love from her away,

Draw

Bring forth all their female graces,
Wrap me in their close embraces,

Practise all the art they may,

Weep, or sing, or kiss, or pray;

One poor thought of her would arm me
So as Circe could not harm me.
Since, beside those excellences
Wherewith others please the senses,
She, whom I have prized so,
Yields delights for reason too.
Who could doat on things so common
As mere outward-handsome woman?
Those half-beauties only win

Fools to let affection in.

Vulgar wits, from reason shaken,
Are with such impostures taken;
And, with all their art in love,
Wantons can but wantons move.

Phil'arete to his Mistress.

[From 18 stanzas.]

HAIL, thou fairest of all creatures

Upon whom the sun doth shine!

Model of all rarest features,

And perfections most divine!

Thrice, all hail! and blessed be
Those that love and honour thee.

Though a stranger to the Muses,
Young, obscured, and despis'd,
Yet such art thy love infuses
That I thus have poetiz'd.
Read, and be content to see
Thy admired power in me.

On this glass of thy perfection
If that any women pry,
Let them thereby take direction
To adorn themselves thereby ;
And if ought amiss they view,
Let them dress themselves anew.

This thy picture therefore show I,

Naked, unto every eye;
Yet no fear of rival know I,

Neither touch of jealousy;

For, the more make love to thee,
I the more shall pleased be.