THE SOUL. Ir mine eyes do e'er declare They've seen a second thing that's fair; If my taste do ever meet, After thy kiss, with aught that 's sweet; Aught to be smooth, or soft, but you; Aught perfume, but thy breath, to call; And so through thee more powerful pass, That nought material's not compris'd; If I ever anger know, Till some wrong be done to you; If gods or kings my envy move, Without their crowns crown'd by thy love; Without thy image stamp'd on it; To find that you 're concern'd therein; That tastes of any thing but thee; To the least glimmering inclination; And to thy beauties ty'st them so, If any passion of my heart, By any force, or any art, Be brought to move one step from thee, If my busy Imagination, Do not thee in all things fashion; So that all fair species be If my Understanding do If she to the will do shew Though Fate and thou should'st disagree; THE PASSIONS. FROM Hate, Fear, Hope, Anger, and Envy, free, In vain this state a freedom call; Sometimes upon their idols fell, Love ev'n the taste of nectar changes so, Fear, Anger, Hope, all passions else that be, made, Call in the States of Holland to their aid. WISDOM. 'Tis mighty wise that you would now be thought, night." THE DESPAIR. BENEATH this gloomy shade, By Nature only for my sorrows made, In tears I'll waste these eyes, So Lust, of old, the Deluge punished. "Ah, wretched youth "" said I ; "Ah, wretched youth!" twice did I sadly cry; "Ah, wretched youth!" the fields and floods reply. When thoughts of love I entertain, I meet no words but "Never,” and “ In vain." "Never," alas! that dreadful name Which fuels the eternal flame: "Never" my time to come must waste; "In vain" torments the present and the past. "In vain, in vain," said I ; « In vain, in vain !" twice did I sadly cry; No more shall fields and floods do so; No comfort to my wounded sight, Then down I laid my head, Down on cold earth; and for a while was dead, "Ah, sottish soul!” said I, When back to its cage again I saw it fly; Where it condemn'd and destin'd is to burn! Once dead, how can it be, Death should a thing so pleasant seem to thee, And, since love ne'er will from me flee, And good as guardian-angels are, Only belov'd, and loving me! Oh, fountains! when in you shall I Here's the spring-head of Pleasure's flood; Has coin'd and stamp'd for good. Pride and ambition here Only in far-fetch'd metaphors appear; Here nought but winds can hurtful murmurs scatter, And nought but Echo flatter. The gods, when they descended, hither That 'tis the way too thither. How happy here should I, And one dear she, live, and embracing die! I should have then this only fear- MY DIET. Now, by my Love, the greatest oath that is, I do not ask your love for this; No servant e'er but did descrve I shall not by 't too lusty prove ; I do not feasts and banquets look to have; On a sigh of pity I a year can live; One tear will keep me twenty, at least; An hundred years on one kind word I'll feast: That thou should'st come to live it o'er again If you an inclination have for me; in me?" THE WISH. WELL then; I now do plainly see Does of all meats the soonest cloy; Ah, yet, ere I descend to th' grave, And all beyond is vast eternity! And still thy shape does me pursue, As if, not you me, but I had murder'd you. From books I strive some remedy to take, But thy name all the letters make; Attempt in vain from thee to fly? My pains resemble Hell in this; But to torment men, not to give them bliss. ALL-OVER LOVE. 'Tis well, 'tis well with them, say I, Whose short-liv'd passions with themselves can die; For none can be unhappy, who, 'Midst all his ills, a time does know (Though ne'er so long) when he shall not be so. Whatever parts of me remain. My affection no more perish can Mix'd with another's substance be, 'Twill leaven that whole lump with love of thee. Let Nature, if she please, disperse My atoms over all the universe; At the last they easily shall Themselves know, and together call; For thy love, like a mark, is stamp'd on all. LOVE ANDd life. Now, sure, within this twelvemonth past, I'ave lov'd at least some twenty years or more: Th' account of love runs much more fast Than that with which our life does score: So, though my life be short, yet I may prove The great Methusalem of love. Not that love's hours or minutes are Shorter than those our being 's measur'd by: But they're more close compacted far, Yet love, alas! and life in me, O yes, there may; for so the self-same Sun At once, with double course in the same sphere, He runs the day, and walks the year. When Sol does to myself refer, 'Tis then my life, and does but slowly move; But when it does relate to her, It swiftly flies, and then is love. Love's my diurnal course, divided right, 'Twixt hope and fear-my day and night. THE BARGAIN. TAKE heed, take heed, thou lovely maid, The price of beauty fall'n so low ! What dangers ought'st thou not to dread, When Love, that's blind, is by blind Fortune led? The foolish Indian, that sells His precious gold for beads and bells, Does a more wise and gainful traffic hold, Than thou, who sell'st thyself for gold. What gains in such a bargain are ? He'll in thy mines dig better treasures far. Can gold, alas! with thee compare? The Sun, that makes it, 's not so fair; The Sun, which can nor make nor ever see A thing so beautiful as thee, In all the journeys he does pass, Though the sea serv'd him for a looking-glass. Bold was the wretch that cheapen'd thee; Since Magus, none so bold as he : Thou 'rt so divine a thing, that thee to buy Is to be counted simony; Too dear he 'll find his sordid price If it be lawful thee to buy, But what on Earth's most like to thee; So much thyself does in me live, THE LONG LIFE. Love from Time's wings hath stol❜n the feathers, Sure He has, and put them to his own; And very minutes hours are grown. The various motions of the turning year How long a space since first I lov'd it is! Th' old Patriarchs' age, and not their happi- | The needle trembles so, and turns about, Do but awhile with patience stay (For counsel yet will do no good) But ne'er to me can useful prove; And I'm not sick, but dead in love, Ev'n thy dissuasions me persuade, For straight the traitor took their part; And by this new foe I'm bereft Of all that little which was left. The act, I must confess, was wise, As a dishonest act could be: Well knew the tongue, alas! your eyes Would be too strong for that and me; And part o' th' triumph chose to get, Rather than be a part of it. RESOLVED TO BE BELOVED. 'Tis true, l'ave lov'd already three or four, And shall three or four hundred more; I'll love each fair-one that I see, Till I find one at last that shall love me, That shall my Canaan be, the fatal soil That ends my wanderings and my toil: I'll settle there, and happy grow; The country does with milk and honey flow. Till it the northern point find out ; But constant then and fix'd does prove, Fix'd, that his dearest pole as soon may move. Then may my vessel torn and shipwreck'd be, If it put forth again to sea! It never more abroad shall roam, Though 't could next voyage bring the Indies home. But I must sweat in love, and labour yet, They're slothful fools who leave a trade, Till they a moderate fortune by 't have made. Variety I ask not; give me one To live perpetually upon. The person, Love does to us fit, THE SAME. FOR If always here I must not stay, 'Tis dismal, one so long to love In vain; till to love more as vain must prove Too weary to take others be; And waste our army thus in vain, At several hopes wisely to fly,, Ought not to be esteem'd inconstancy; 'Tis more inconstant always to pursue A thing that always flies from you; For that at last may meet a bound, But no end can to this be found, 'Tis nought but a perpetual fruitless round. When it does hardness meet, and pride, My love does then rebound t' another side; But, if it aught that's soft and yielding hit, It lodges there, and stays in it. Whatever 'tis shall first love me, That it my Heaven may truly be, I shall be sure to give 't eternity. Compar'd with her, all things so worthless prove, Equal to her, alas! there's none; That must create, or else must be alone. If there be man who thinks himself so high, He deserves her less than I; For he would cheat for his relief; And one would give, with lesser grief, Tan undeserving beggar than a thief. Yet when I die, my last breath shall Grow bold, and plainly tell her all: Like covetous men, who ne'er descry Their dear-hid treasures till they die. Ah, fairest maid! how will it cheer My ghost, to get from thee a tear! But take heed; for if me thou pitiest then, Twenty to one but I shall live again. AGAINST FRUITION. I THE GIVEN HEART. WONDER what those lovers mean, who say They 'ave given their hearts away: Some good kind lover, tell me how: For mine is but a torment to me now. No; thou'rt a fool, I'll swear, if e'er thou grant; If so it be one place both hearts contain, Much of my veneration thou must want, Beauty at first moves wonder and delight; 'Tis Nature's juggling trick to cheat the sight. For what do they complain? "Twill tear and blow up all within, Shall out of both one new one make, From her's th' allay, from mine the metal, take, For of her heart he from the flames will find Mine only will remain entire ; No dross was there, to perish in the fire. THE PROPHET. TEACH me to love! go teach thyself more wit; Teach craft to Scots, and thrift to Jews, In tyrants' courts teach supple flattery; He who does boast that he has been |