LOVE'S REPRESENTATION.

LEANING her hand upon my breast,
There on Love's bed she lay to rest ;
My panting heart rock'd her asleep,
My heedful eyes the watch did keep;
Then Love by me being harbour'd there,
Chose Hope to be his harbinger;
Desire, his rival, kept the door;
For this of hiın I begg'd no more,
But that, our mistress t' entertain,
Some pretty fancy he wou'd frame,
And represent it in a dream,

Of which my self shou'd give the theam.
Then first these thoughts I bid him show,
Which only he and I did know,
Array'd in duty and respect,
And not in fancies that reflect;
Then those of value next present,
Approv'd by all the world's consent;
But to distinguish mine asunder,
Apparell'd they must be in wonder.
Such a device then I wou'd have,
As service, not reward, shou'd crave,
Attir'd in spotless innocence,
Not self-respect, nor no pretence:
Then such a faith I wou'd have shown,
As heretofore was never known,
Cloth'd with a constant clear intent,
Professing always as it meant.

And if Love no such garments have,
My mind a wardrobe is so brave,
That there sufficient he may see
To clothe impossibility.

Then beamy fetters he shall find,
By admiration subt'ly twin'd,

That will keep fast the wanton'st thought,

That e'er imagination wrought:
There he shall find of joy a chain,
Fram'd by despair of her disdain,
So curiously, that it can't tie

The smallest hopes that thoughts now spy.
There acts as glorious as the Sun,

Are by her veneration spun,

In one of which I wou'd have brought
A pure unspotted abstract thought.
Considering her as she is good,
Not in her frame of flesh and blood.
These attoms then, all in her sight,
I bad him join, that so he might
Discern between true Love's creation,

And that Love's form that's now in fashion.
Love granting unto my request,
Began to labour in my breast;
But with the motion he did make,
It heav'd so high that she did wake;
Blush'd at the favour she had done,
Then smil'd, and then away did run.

SONG.

THE crafty boy, that had full oft essay'd
To pierce my stubborn and resisting breast,
But still the bluntness of his darts betray'd,
Resolv'd at last of setting up his rest,

Either my wild unruly heart to tame,
Or quit his godhead, and his bow disclaim,

So all his lovely looks, his pleasing fires,
All his sweet motions, all his taking smiles,
All that awakes, all that inflames desires,
All that sweetly commands, all that beguiles,
He does into one pair of eyes convey,

And there begs leave that he himself may stay.
And there he brings me where his ambush lay,
Secure, and careless to a stranger land :
And never waruing me, which was foul play,
Does make me close by all this beauty stand.

Where first struck dead, I did at last recover,
To know that I might only live to love her.

So I'll be sworn I do, and do confess
The blind lad's pow'r, whilst he inhabits there;
But I'll be even with him nevertheless,

If e'er I chance to meet with him elsewhere,
If other eyes invite the boy to tarry,
I'll fly to hers as to a sanctuary.

UPON THE

BLACK SPOTS WORN BY MY LADY D. E.

I

MADAM,

KNOW your heart cannot so guilty be,

That you should wear those spots for vanity;
Or as your beauty's trophics, put on one
For every murther which your eyes have done;
No, they're your mourning-weeds for hearts forlorn,
Which tho' you must not love, you cou'd not scorn;
To whom since cruel honour do's deny
Those joys cou'd only cure their misery,
Yet you this noble way to grace 'em found,
Whilst thus your grief their martyrdom has crown'd:
Of which take heed you prove not prodigal;
For if to every common funeral,

By your eyes martyr'd, such grace were allow'd,
Your face would wear not patches, but a cloud.

You are all etherial, there's in you no dross,
Nor any part that's gross :

Your coarsest part is like a curious lawn,
The vestal relics for a covering drawn.

Your other parts, part of the purest fire

That e'er Heav'n did inspire,

Make every thought that is refin'd by it,

A quintessence of goodness and of wit. Thus have your raptures reach'd to that degree In Love's philosophy,

That you can figure to your self a fire
Void of all heat, a love without desire.

Nor in divinity do you go less,

You think, and you profess,

That souls may have a plenitude of joy,
Altho' their bodies meet not to employ.

But I must needs confess, I do not find
The motions of my mind

So purify'd as yet, but at the best
My body claims in them an interest.

I hold that perfect joy makes all our parts
As joyful as our hearts.

Our senses tell us, if we please not them,
Our love is but a dotage or a dream.

How shall we then agree? You may descend,
But will not, to my end.

I fain wou'd tune my fancy to your key,
But cannot reach to that abstracted way.

There rests but this; that whilst we sorrow here,
Our bodies may draw near:

And when no more their joys they can extend,
Then let our souls begin where they did end.

PROFFERED LOVE REJECTED.

Ir is not four years ago,

I offer'd forty crowns,

To lie with her a night or so:
She answer'd me in frowns.

Not two years since, she meeting me

Did whisper in my car,

That she wou'd at my service be,

If I contented were.

I told her I was cold as snow,

And had no great desire;

But shou'd be well content to go

To twenty, but no higher.

Some three months since, or thereabout,
She that so coy had been,

Bethought her self, and found me out,
And was content to sin.

I smil'd at that, and told her, I
Did think it something late:
And that I'd not repentance buy
At above half the rate.

This present morning early she,
Forsooth, came to my bed,
And gratis there she offer'd me
Her high-priz'd maiden-head.

I told her that I thought it then
Far dearer than I did,
When I at first the forty crowns
For one night's lodging bid.

DISDAIN.

A QUOY servent d'artifices
Et serments aux vents jettez,
Si vos amours & vos services
Me sont des importunitez?
L'amour a d'autres vœux m'appelle,
Entendez jamais rein de moy,
Ne pensez nous rendre infidele,
A me tesmoignant vostre foy.
L'amant qui mon amour possede
Est trop plein de perfection,
Et doublement il vous excede
De merit & d' affection.

Je ne puis estre refroidie,
Ni rompre un cordage si doux,
Ni le rompre sans perfidie,
En d' estre perfidi pour vous.
Vos attentes sont toutes en vain,
Le vous dire est nous obliger,
Pour vous faire epergner vos peines
Du vous & du temps mesnager.

ENGLISHED THUS BY THE AUTHOR.

To what end serve the promises
And oaths lost in the air?
Since all your proffer'd services
To me but tortures are.

Another now enjoys my love.
Set you your heart at rest:
Think not me from my faith to move,
Because you faith protest.

The man that does possess my heart,
Has twice as much perfection,
And does excel you in desert,

As much as in affection.

I cannot break so sweet a bond,
Unless I prove untrue:

Nor can I ever be so fond,
To prove untrue for you.

Your attempts are but in vain,
To tell you is a favour:

For things that may be, rack your brain;
Then lose not thus your labour.

PERJURY EXCUSED.

ALAS it is too late! I can no more
Love now, than I have lov'd before:
My Flora, 'tis my fate, not I;
And what you call contempt, is destiny,
I am no monster sure, I cannot show
Two hearts; one I already owe:

And I have bound myself with oaths, and vow'd
Oftner, I fear, than Heaven has e'er allow'd,

That faces now shou'd work no more on me,
That if they cou'd not charm, or I not see.
And shall I break 'em? shall I think you can
Love, if I cou'd, so foul a perjur'd man?
Oh no, 'tis equally impossible that I
Shou'd love again, or you love perjury.

A SONG.

UPON

UPON L. M. WEEPING.

WHOEVER was the cause your tears were shed, May these my curses light upon his head: May he be first in love, and let it be With a most known and black deformity, Nay, far surpass all witches that have been Since our first parents taught us how to sin! Then let this hag be coy, and he run mad For that which no man else wou'd e'er have had: And in this fit may he commit the thing, May him impenitent to th' gallows bring! Then might he for one tear his pardon have, But want that single grief his life to save! And being dead, may he at Heav'n venture, But for the guilt of this one fact ne'er enter.

NON EST MORTALE QUOD OPTO.
UPON MRS. A. L.

THOU think'st I flatter, when thy praise I tell.
But thou dost all hyperboles excel;
For I am sure thou art no mortal creature,
But a divine one thron'd in human feature.

Thy piety is such, that Heav'n by merit, If ever any did, thou shou'd'st inherit; Thy modesty is such, that hadst thou been Tempted as Eve, thou wou'd'st have shunn'd her sin. So lovely fair thou art, that sure dame Nature Meant thee the pattern of the female creature: Besides all this, thy flowing wit is such, That were it not in thee, 't had been too much For woman-kind: shou'd envy look thee o'er, It wou'd confess thus much, if not much more. I love thee well, yet wish some bad in thee, For, sure I am, thou art too good for me.

HIS DREAM.

Os a still silent night, scarce cou'd I number
One of the clock, but that a golden slumber
Had lock'd my senses fast, and carry'd ine
Into a world of blest felicity,

I know not how: First to a garden, where
The apricock, the cherry, and the pear,
The strawberry, and plumb, were fairer far
Than that eye-pleasing fruit that caus'd the jar
Betwixt the goddesses, and tempted more
Than fair Atlanta's ball, tho' gilded o'er:
I gaz'd a while on these, and presently
A silver stream ran softly gliding by;
Upon whose banks, lillies more white,than snow
New fall'n from Heav'n, with violets mix'd, did
grow;

Whose scent so chaf'd the neighbour-air, that you Wou'd surely swear Arabic spices grew

Not far from thence, or that the place had been With musk prepar'd to entertain love's queen. Whilst I admir'd, the river past away, And up a grove did spring, green as in May, When April had been moist; upon whose bushes The pretty robins, nightingals, and thrushes Warbled their notes so sweetly, that my ears Did judge at least the musick of the spheres. But here my gentle dream conveyed me Into the place which I most long'd to see, My mistress' bed; who, some few blushes past, And smiling frowns, contented was at last To let me touch her neck; I not content With that slipt to her breast, thence lower went, And then-I awak'd.

UPON A. M.

YIELD all, my love; but be withal as coy, As if thou knew'st not how to sport and toy: The fort resign'd with ease, men cowards prove, And lazy grow. Let me besiege my love, Let me despair at least three times a day, And take repulses upon each essay: If I but ask a kiss, straight blush as red As if I tempted for thy maidenhead: Contract thy smiles, if that they go too far; And let thy frowns be such as threaten war. That face which Nature sure never intended Shou'd e'er be marr'd, because 't could ne'er be mended,

Take no corruption from thy grandame Eve; Rather want faith to save thee, than believe Too soon: for, credit me, 'tis true,

Men most of all enjoy, when least they do.

I AM a barber, and I'd have you know,
A shaver too sometimes, no mad one tho'.
The reason why you see me now thus bare,
Is 'cause I always trade against the hair:
But yet I keep a state, who comes to me,
Who e'er he is, he must uncover'd be.
When I'm at work, I'm bound to find discourse
To no great purpose, of great Sweden's force,
Of Witel, and the burse, and what 'twill cost
To get that back which was this summer lost.
So fall to praising of his lordship's hair,
Ne'er so deform'd, I swear 'tis sans compare:
I tell him that the king's does sit no fuller,
And yet his is not half so good a colour:
Then reach a pleasing glass, that's made to lye
Like to its master, most notoriously:
And if he must his mistress see that day,
I with a powder send him straight away.

No woman under Heav'n I fear,
New oaths I can exactly swear,
And forty healths my brains will bear
most stoutly.

I cannot speak, but I can do
As much as any of our crew;
And if you doubt it, some of you
may prove me.

I dare be bold thus much to say,
If that my bullets do but play,
You wou'd be hurt so night and day,
yet love me.

I

TO MY LADY E. C.

AT HER GOING OUT OF ENGLAND.

MUST Confess, when I did part from you,
I cou'd not force an artificial dew
Upon my cheeks, nor with a gilded phrase
Express how many hundred several ways
My heart was tortur'd, nor with arms across
In discontented garbs set forth my loss:
Such loud expressions many times do come
From lightest hearts, great griefs are always dumb;
The shallow rivers roar, the deep are still;
Numbers of painted words may show much skill,
But little anguish; and a cloudy face

Is oft put on, to serve both time and place:
The blazing wood may to the eye seem great,
But 'tis the fire rak'd up that has the heat,
And keeps it long: true sorrow's like to wine,
That which is good does never need a sign.
My eyes were channels far too small to be
Conveyors of such floods of misery:
And so pray think; or if you'd entertain

A thought more charitable, suppose some strain
Of sad repentance had, not long before,
Quite empty'd, for my sins, that watry store.
So shall you him oblige that still will be
Your servant to his best ability.

AN

ANSWER TO SOME VERSES MADE IN
HIS PRAISE.

THE ancient poets and their learned rhimes,
We still admire in these our latter times,
And celebrate their fames. Thus tho' they die,
Their names can never taste mortality:
Blind Homer's Muse, and Virgil's stately verse,
While any live, shall never need a herse.
Since then to these such praise was justly due
For what they did, what shall be said to you?
These had their helps; they wrote of gods and
kings,

Of temples, battles, and such gallant things:
But you of nothing; how cou'd you have writ,
Had you but chose a subject to your wit?
To praise Achilles, or the Trojan crew,
Show'd little art, for praise was but their due.
To say she's fair that's fair, this is no pains:
He shows himself most poet, that most feigurs:
To find out virtues strangely hid in me;
Ay there's the art, and learned poetry!

To make one striding of a barbed steed,
Prancing a stately round: I use indeed
To ride Bat Jewel's jade; this is the skill,
This shows the poet wants not wit at will.

I must admire aloof, and for my part
Be well contented, since you do't with art.

LOVE'S BURNING-GLASS,

WONDERING long how I cou'd harmless see
Men gazing on those beames that fired me;
At last I found, it was the crystal love
Before my heart, that did the heat improve:
Which by centracting of those scatter'd rays
Into it self, did so produce my blaze.
Now lighted by my love, I see the same
Beams dazzle those, that me are wont t' inflame.
And now I bless my love, when I do think
By how much I had rather burn than wink.
But how much happier were it thus to burn,
If I had liberty to choose my urn?
But since those beams do promise only fire,
This flame shall purge me of the dross, desire.

THE MIRACLE.

Ir thou be'st ice, I do admire

How thou cou'dst set my heart on fire;
Or how thy fire cou'd kindle me,
Thou being ice, and not melt thee;
But even my flames, light at thy own,
Have hardned thee into a stone!
Wonder of love! that canst fulfil,
Inverting nature thus, thy will;
Making ice one another burn,
Whilst it self does harder turn.

Ει μὲν ἦν μαθεῖν
'Α δεῖ παθεῖν
Καὶ μὴ παθεῖν,
Καλὸν ἦν τὸ μαθεῖν.
Εἰ καὶ δεῖ παθεῖν

Α δεῖ μαθεῖν,
Τί δεῖ μαθεῖν;
Χρῆ γαρ παθεῖν.

SCIRE si liceret quæ debes subire,
Et non subire, pulchrum est scire:
Sed si subire debes quæ debes scire,
Quorsum vis scire? nam debes subire.

ENGLISHED THUS.

Ir man might know
The ill he must undergo,
And shun it so,

Then it were good to know: But if he undergo it,

Tho' he know it,

What boots him know it?
He must undergo it.

SONG.

WHEN, dearest, I but think of thee,
Methinks all things that lovely be

Are present, and my soul delighted;
For beauties that from worth arise,
Are like the grace of deities,

Still present with us, tho' unsighted.

Thus whilst I sit, and sigh the day
With all his borrow'd lights away,

'Till night's black wings do overtake me, Thinking on thee, thy beauties then, As sudden lights do sleepy men,

So they by their bright rays awake me. Thus absence dies, and dying proves No absence can subsist with loves

That do partake of fair perfection; Since in the darkest night they may, By love's quick motion, find a way To see each other by reflection. The waving sea can with each flood Bath some high promont, that has stood Far from the main up in the river: Oh think not then but love can do. As much, for that's an ocean too, Which flows not every day, but ever.

THE EXPOSTULATION.
TELL me, ye juster deities,
That pity lovers' miseries,

Why shou'd my own unworthiness
Light me to seek my happiness?
It is as natural, as just,

Him for to love whom needs I must:

All men confess that love's a fire,

Then who denies it to aspire?

Tell me, if thou wert fortune's thrall,
Wou'd'st thou not raise thee from the fall?
Seek only to o'erlook thy state
Whereto thou art condemn'd by fate?
Then let me love my Corydon,
And by love's leave, him love alone:
For I have read in stories oft,
That love has wings, and soars aloft.

Then let me grow in my desire,
Though I be martyr'd in that fire:
For grace it is enough for me
But only to love such as he:

For never shall my thoughts be base,
Though luckless, yet without disgrace:
Then let him that my love shall blame,
Or clip love's wings, or quench love's flame

DETRACTION EXECRATED. THOU vermin Slander, bred in abject minds Of thoughts impure, by vile tongues animate, Canker of conversation! cou'dst thou find Nought but our love, whereon to show thy hate? Thou never wert, when we two were alone; What canst thou witness then? thy base dull aid Was useless in our conversation,

Where each meant more than cou'd by both be said.