Here come and sit, where never serpent hisses, And being set, I'll smother thee with kisses;

"And yet not cloy thy lips with loath'd satiety, But rather famish them amid their plenty, Making them red and pale with fresh variety,Ten kisses short as one, one long as twenty:

A summer's day will seem an hour but short, Being wasted in such time-beguiling sport."

With this she seizeth on his sweating palm,
The precedent of pith and livelihood,
And, trembling in her passion, calls it balm,
Earth's sovereign salve to do a goddess good:
Being so enrag'd, desire doth lend her force
Courageously to pluck him from his horse.

Over one arm the lusty courser's rein,
Under her other was the tender boy,
Who blush'd and pouted in a dull disdain,
With leaden appetite, unapt to toy;

She red and hot as coals of glowing fire,
He red for shame, but frosty in desire.

The studded bridle on a ragged bough
Nimbly she fastens ; (0, how quick is love!)
The steed is stalled up, and even now
To tie the rider she begins to prove :

Back ward she push'd him, as she would be thrust, And govern'd him in strength, though not in lust.

See also Sonnet XXXV.

e Tires-] To tire is to peck, to tear, to prey.

d Forc'd to content,-] To acquiescence.

ea river that is rank,-] "Rank" meant brimming, full, &c. Thus in "Julius Cæsar," Act III. Sc. 1,—

She feedeth on the steam as on a prey, And calls it heavenly moisture, air of grace;

Wishing her cheeks were gardens full of t So they were dew'd with such-distilling sh Look, how a bird lies tangled in a net, So fasten'd in her arms Adonis lies; Pure shame and aw'd resistance made him Which bred more beauty in his angry eyes:

Rain added to a river that is rank, Perforce will force it overflow the bank

Still she entreats, and prettily entreats,
For to a pretty ear she tunes her tale;
Still is he sullen, still he low'rs and frets,
"Twixt crimson shame and anger ashy-pale:

Being red, she loves him best; and being
Her best is better'd with a more delight.

Look how he can, she cannot choose but be And by her fair immortal hand she swears From his soft bosom never to remove, Till he take truce with her contending tear Which long have rain'd, making her che wet;

And one sweet kiss shall pay this o debt.

Upon this promise did he raise his chin,
Like a dive-dapper peering through a wave
Who, being look'd on, ducks as quickly in:
So offers he to give what she did crave;

But when her lips were ready for his par
He winks, and turns his lips another way

Never did passenger in summer's heat
More thirst for drink than she for this good,
Her help she sees, but help she cannot get
She bathes in water, yet her fire must bur

"O, pity," 'gan she cry, "flint-hearted b 'Tis but a kiss I beg; why art thou cor! "I have been woo'd, as I entreat thee now, Even by the stern and direful god of war, Whose sinewy neck in battle ne'er did bow, Who conquers where he comes, in every ar

Yet hath he been my captive and my sa And begg'd for that which thou unasko have.

"Over my altars hath he hung his lance, His batter'd shield, his uncontrolled crest, And for my sake hath learn'd to sport and To toy, to wanton, dally, smile, and jest; Scorning his churlish drum, and ensign re Making my arms his field, his tent my be

"Who else must be let blood, who else is rank," unless in that passage "rank" expresses too luzurias topped. So, too, in Drayton's "Barons' Wars," 1643,"Fetching full tides, luxurious, high, and rask." fyet her fire must burn:] So read the editions, 15 1596; the later copies have,-"yet in fire must bura." To toy,-] The reading of the two earliest copies. ones have, "To coy," &c.

"Thus he that overrul'd I overs way'd,
Leading him prisoner in a red-rose chain :
Strong-temper'd steel his stronger strength obey'd,
Yet was he servile to my coy disdain.

O, be not proud, nor brag not of thy might,
For mastering her that foil'd the god of fight!

"Touch but my lips with those fair lips of thine,Though mine be not so fair, yet are they red,— The kiss shall be thine own as well as mine:What see'st thou in the ground? hold up thy head;

Look in mine eyeballs, there thy beauty lies; Then why not lips on lips, since eyes in eyes?

"Art thou asham'd to kiss? then wink again, And I will wink; so shall the day seem night; Love keeps his revels where there are but twain; Be bold to play, our sport is not in sight:

These blue-vein'd violets whereon we lean
Never can blab, nor know not what we mean.

"The tender spring upon thy tempting lip
Shows thee unripe; yet mayst thou well be tasted :
Make use of time, let not advantage slip;
Beauty within itself should not be wasted:

Fair flowers that are not gather'd in their prime
Rot and consume themselves in little time.

"Were I hard-favour'd, foul, or wrinkled-old, Ill-natur'd, crooked, churlish, harsh in voice, O'er-worn, despised, rheumatic, and cold, Thick-sighted, barren, lean, and lacking juice, Then mightst thou pause, for then I were not for thee;

But having no defects, why dost abhor me?

"Thou canst not see one wrinkle in my brow; Mine eyes are grey, and bright, and quick in turning;

My beauty as the spring doth yearly grow,
My flesh is soft and plump, my marrow burning;
My smooth moist hand, were it with thy hand
felt,

Would in thy palm dissolve, or seem to melt.

a

Bid me discourse, I will enchant thine ear, Or, like a fairy, trip upon the green, Or, like a nymph, with long dishevell❜d hair, Dance on the sands, and yet no footing seen: Love is a spirit all compact of fire, Not gross to sink. but light, and will aspire. "Witness this primrose bank whereon I lie; These forceless flowers like sturdy trees support me; [sky, Two strengthless doves will draw me through the From morn till night, even where I list to sport

me:

Is love so light, sweet boy, and may it be That thou shouldst think it heavy unto thee?

-compact-] Made up, compounded.

b Souring-] Misprinted To wring, in the quarto, 1593. ebut died unkind!] "Unkind" in this place is explained to mean unnatural, a sense we have seen the word frequently bore; but may it not signify here, without generation: without

"Is thine own heart to thine own face affected?
Can thy right hand seize love upon thy left?
Then woo thyself, be of thyself rejected,
Steal thine own freedom, and complain on theft.
Narcissus so himself himself forsook,

And died to kiss his shadow in the brook. "Torches are made to light, jewels to wear, Dainties to taste, fresh beauty for the use, Herbs for their smell, and sappy plants to pear; Things growing to themselves are growth's abuse: Seeds spring from seeds, and beauty breedeth beauty,

Thou wast begot,-to get it is thy duty.

"Upon the earth's increase why shouldst thou feed,
Unless the earth with thy increase be fed?
By law of nature thou art bound to breed,
That thine may live, when thou thyself art dead;
And so, in spite of death, thou dost survive,
In that thy likeness still is left alive."

By this, the love-sick queen began to sweat,
For, where they lay, the shadow had forsook them,
And Titan, 'tired in the mid-day heat,
With burning eye did hotly overlook them;

Wishing Adonis had his team to guide,
So he were like him, and by Venus' side.
And now Adonis, with a lazy sprite,
And with a heavy, dark, disliking eye,
His lowering brows o'erwhelming his fair sight,
Like misty vapours when they blot the sky,-
Souring his cheeks, cries, "Fie, no more of

love!

The sun doth burn my face; I must remove."

"Ah me," quoth Venus, "young, and so unkind?
What bare excuses mak'st thou to be gone!
I'll sigh celestial breath, whose gentle wind
Shall cool the heat of this descending sun:

I'll make a shadow for thee of my hairs;
If they burn too, I'll quench them with my tears.
"The sun that shines from heaven shines but warm,
And, lo, I lie between that sun and thee!
The heat I have from thence doth little harm,
Thine eye darts forth the fire that burneth me ;
And were I not immortal, life were done,
Between this heavenly and earthly sun.

"Art thou obdurate, flinty, hard as steel, Nay, more than flint, for stone at rain relenteth ? Art thou a woman's son, and canst not feel What 't is to love? how want of love tormenteth? O, had thy mother borne so hard a mind, She had not brought forth thee, but died unkind! "What am I, that thou shouldst contemnd me this?

Or what great danger dwells upon my suit?